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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 1 year ago

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Hi Rin! I've been reading your writings and I've been having the best fun, thanks you for the hard work! Seeing that you are accepting requests I was wondering if you could do a Minho x reader? (Female if possible but ofc if not that's good too!) With reader having a sweet and caring personality and Minho at the beginning scoffing at her bc he thinks everyone is too soft on them but newt and others commenting of him being hyper aware so they tease him saying he has a crush? And then a scene where he starts developing feels and he's like nonono but there's no way out hehe. Hope you have a very lovely day!

This is so cute!!!!!! Thanks for requesting (and waiting 😭) ❤❤

Got a very teenage vibe from this as I was writing, hence the title

Teenage dream

Minho x fem!reader

Set during tmr (movieverse, before Thomas)

Notes: this is more of a Minho pov fic? Hope that's ok :))) Kinda switches back to reader at the end though

Warnings: vomit tw, language, reader's drunkness levels change drastically within minutes, ALSO TEENAGE AWKWARDNESS TO THE MAX, I swear Minho has better game in my other fics, he's just a silly sweet guy here lmao

"Light 'em up!"

Minho stands back as the other boys throw their stakes into the bonfire, watching you giggle at their raucous cheers from across the Glade, an involuntary smile rising on his face.

Before long, the party's in full swing; meaning everyone is now yet again horribly, stupidly drunk.

Minho, as usual, has only had a bit of Gally's concoction, and is idly chatting with Ben as he hears a loud crash.

"What the..."

He leaves Ben, jogging over to the scene to see... of course.

It's you, the two-months-in newbie, and you're sprawled out on the ground in a mess of barrels that have been knocked down, potatoes spilling everywhere.

Your arms are tangled with Newt's- Newt? and you're both laughing, harder than Minho's seen Newt laugh in a while.

"We- the potatoes. The potatoes," Newt manages to say, gasping between cackles.

"Eh. Problem for tomorrow," you sing, extracting yourself from the barrels and potatoes that are now all over the ground.

"Here," says Minho, containing his eyeroll and stepping forward to offer Newt an arm.

"Thanks, man."

Minho tugs Newt up, and yep, he's plastered cause Newt flies up and stumbles forward, crashing into an amused Jeff and nearly sending them both tumbling down.

You stand beside Newt, body folding in laughter as you reach out to grab his arm.

"What's going on?" Alby's voice cuts through the chaos.

You wobble over to him, grabbing one of his hands and clasping it between both of yours in a praying motion. "Sorry, Albs. We'll clean it up in the morning, promise."

"Yeah, you better," says Alby, and his voice is stern but Minho can see the smile reaching his eyes.

What the hell? What happened to their strict leader?

"Thanks, leader man," you say with a grin, patting his chest and giving him a cheesy thumbs up.

Suddenly shouts sound out nearby, and Minho turns to see someone staggering around before turning and throwing up right onto a tabletop.

"Dammit, Ben," mutters Jeff, pinching the bridge of his nose and rushing over.

"Did someone throw up?" Minho hears you ask, before you jog over, veering slightly off to the side as you run.

He sighs and follows you, to where the Gladers are standing around Ben making various ew and gross sounds as if they don't have someone chuck up at least every couple months.

"I ain't cleaning this up for you," Minho tells Ben as he helps him up.

"The whole damn table is gonna stink for months," groans Jeff, looking over the table the Medjacks lent for the bonfire.

"Sorry," mumbles Ben, his words slurring slightly.

"It's alright," you say comfortingly, grabbing a piece of wood you got from god knows where and scraping the stuff into a bin.

"Hey, strong men," you call. "Grab this table and go spray it at the hose."

"Sorry," repeats Ben.

Minho sighs, and shakes his head. "Not your fault you're a lightweight," he says light-heartedly, punching his friend in the arm gently.

He watches as you wash your hands quickly before grabbing a cup of water and bringing it over to Ben.

"Here," you say, handing it to him. "Don't worry, the table's fine. Worst case we'll use it as firewood for next time."

You trip slightly as you step back, and Minho shoots out an arm to grab your waist before he even knows what he's doing. "Alright?" he asks.

You grin, patting his arm. "Guess I'm not as steady as I thought I was."

"Oh really," Minho lifts an eyebrow. "You thought you were steady when you fell into three barrels of potatoes?"

"Ya know, the one time that happens..."

"You mean, just now?"

"Yeah, that one time,"

"Stop with this couples banter," groans Ben. "My head hurts."

"Hungover and drunk at the same time," you say, nodding so sympathetically Minho genuinely can't tell if you're acting or not. "Here, let's get you to bed."

⭒----⭒

"Every month we manage to top the last month's mess," announces Alby, sitting on a table as he addresses the Gladers, most of whom are still waking up and groaning.

He throws out orders for each group, eyes shut and massaging his temples as he speaks, before he gets to; "Y/n, Newt. Gardeners."

"Minho and I already packed up the potatoes from yesterday," begins Alby, and Minho warms as he feels your eyes on him.

"Some of them were crushed under the barrels," Alby continues. "We lost some supplies."

You bite your lip, looking up nervously. You exchange a glance with Newt, and you're wearing identical guilty expressions.

Alby rolls his eyes. "Like scolded children, both of you. Just get to your jobs, go on."

"Thanks mate," says Newt, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks Alby." You give him a little sheepish smile before leaving.

"I'll check on our leftover supplies," says Newt. "Minho, come with?"

"Wh- sure," says Minho, following behind.

⭒----⭒

"Something on your mind?" asks Newt, shifting some food barrels around.

"You're all too soft on her," mumbles Minho, crossing his arms.

"What's that?"

"You, all of you. With Y/n. You shouldn't be letting her get away with things just cause she smiles, or reward her cause she does one tiny nice thing."

Newt turns around, an amused expression on his face, which is infuriating but also extremely worrying.

"What," snaps Minho.

"Nothing," says Newt, all innocent. "What do you mean 'get away with'?"

"Like just then," says Minho. "She got drunk at the bonfire and made a whole mess, then what? Just flirted her way out of trouble? That's bullshit right there."

"I was with her, I made that mess too."

"You weren't the one who fell into the barrels," Minho fires back.

"And how would you know that? You must've been watching her pretty closely." Newt's full on grinning now, hands on his hips in mock sternness.

Minho deflects. "Whatever, she shouldn't get away with making a mess like that."

"Mate, everyone gets shucking plastered at the bonfires. Don't tell me you've been blind to Zart passing out on the ground every month or how Ben can hardly get through his morning runs."

"I mean, yeah, but people don't knock whole barrels of crop over."

"Winston damn near fell into the fire last month."

"That's different," insists Minho.

"Fine," says Newt, sighing. "Can we go back to when you said she flirts her way out of trouble?"

Minho freezes. "...what?"

"Go on then," says Newt, grin stretching on his face. "What'd you mean?"

Minho averts his gaze, uncharacteristically conflicted. "Ya know, just like... how she had her hands all over Alby last night, when he should've been yelling at her or something."

Newt raises an eyebrow, tilting his head at Minho. "What, did you want her to get in trouble?"

"No! Of course not," protests Minho. "Just- in general, it's not fair. To flirt like that and... you know," he finishes weakly.

"That's not flirting mate, she's just an affectionate drunk."

"Yeah... Whatever."

"You know," begins Newt. "One of these days you'll understand, and the rest of us'll be here, laughing our damn asses off at you."

Minho scrunches up his face, confused.

Newt laughs, tossing an arm around his friend. "Give it time, you'll get it."

⭒----⭒

It's a month later, after the next bonfire, that someone finally has the courage to tell it straight to Minho.

" -and people think she's like, the greatest soul to bless the Glade. It's stupid. The other day, she helped Gally carry something, ya know, cause his shoulder was shucked, and I swear, the whole of the Builders had stars in their eyes." Minho huffs, rolling his eyes.

"And," he continues. "She looks after Greenies like they're incapable of walking. Then suddenly everyone loves her?"

"Everyone loves Newt," Ben points out. "Why aren't you getting all pissed about him?"

"I'm not pissed," argues Minho. "I'm just observing... stating. People give her credit for just being a vaguely decent human being."

"Minho. You sound insane. You're literally listing good things, and twisting them into... whatever bullshit point you're trying to make."

Ben continues. "Y/n is a decent human being. She's kind, caring, better than the rest of us assholes at accommodating the newbies. She helps people out. Is that so bad?"

"I mean, no... but-,"

"But nothing!" interrupts Ben. "Why are you so obsessed, anyway? Haven't you given some thought into why you're hyperaware of her every move?"

"Oi! Are you telling him?" Newt's voice rings out from across the empty dining hall.

"Yes," says Ben, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Cause this is exhausting."

"Shuckin' finally," says Newt, clapping Ben on the shoulder as he slides into the bench beside him. "Someone needed to do it soon."

"What," snaps Minho.

"You have a crush," says Ben, tugging on his hair exasperatedly. "A stupid schoolyard crush- which I don't even have memory of, but you're just so, so-"

"What Ben is trying to say," interrupts Newt. "Is that you like Y/n."

"What? No, I-"

"And," Ben cuts in. "Somewhere in that thick head of yours, your lovey-dovey feelings are fighting with your denial and causing this." He gestures vaguely towards Minho.

"I don't know what you're talking about," retorts Minho.

"Of course not," says Ben flatly. "But now that we've told you, it should only be a matter of time."

"I mean..." Newt struggles for a second, before giving up, shoulders sagging. "Yeah, Ben's summed it up pretty well."

⭒----⭒

A crush? There's no way. Minho frowns to himself, lost in thought as he walks out of the shower block.

The Glade is in the best time of the day right now. It's when everyone's wrapping up the day's work and hitting the showers, before waiting around for dinner.

Minho's showered early today, so the dining area just has a few people idly sitting around chatting. He nods at Newt, who makes eye contact with him across the dining area and starts walking over.

Newt stops though, as someone else slides into the bench across from Minho. It's you.

Minho widens his eyes at Newt, who simply grins and turns to sit somewhere else.

Fine. Minho sighs internally, turning to you. "Y/n, hey."

"Hey," you greet, flicking your hair back. You've got a small towel resting on your shoulders to keep your clothes dry while your hair's still wet. Minho notes this information for no particular reason.

"Listen," you say, leaning forward intently. Pretty. The thought crosses Minho's mind without his consent. You look clean, fresh out of the shower, sunset casting your face in a warm glow. Nope, no way this is happening.

"Uh Minho, ya with me?"

" 'course," he responds quickly. "What's up?"

You grin, clearly seeing through him, but you continue anyway. "So, Ben tells me the forest around the Runners' hut is really pretty. Flowers and all. Is that true?"

"Yeah," says Minho. "The pond is nice too."

You hum, nodding in thought. "Take me sometime?"

"Yeah, sure," says Minho.

You know what, shuck it.

"Do you wanna go now?" he offers, resolve clicking inside him.

Minho's heart picks up at your smile, beaming at him. "Yeah, let's go."

⭒----⭒

"I can't believe you've never been here," says Minho, standing with his hands in his pockets as you wander around the forest.

"I can't believe no one ever brought me here," you reply. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah..." He trails off, watching you bend and smile at some purple orchids. "...beautiful." Fuck.

"Can I be honest with you, Minho?" he hears you ask.

"Of course," he responds, leaning on a tree.

"I was kinda worried," you begin, still looking down at the orchids. "That you didn't like me, or something."

Minho's eyebrows fly up. "Wh-"

"I just- I wanted to clear it up. Cause you seem like a cool person, and I'd like for us to be... friends." You sound uncertain, and Minho feels like an absolute shit.

"No!" As your head whips up, he hastily continues, "I mean, yes, of course, just-"

He groans. "It's my fault, I'm just- I was stupid. An idiot, actually. I've been-"

You've got a confused expression as Minho huffs out a frustrated sigh. "It wasn't anything like... what you're thinking. I just had some other feelings- thoughts, in the way. And I guess it came off like I didn't like you. But I do. I like you a lot," he admits.

You let out a soft laugh. "I'm glad. I didn't want it to be," you gesture vaguely. "Ya know."

Minho smiles, and seems to shake himself slightly, nodding towards a tree near the Runner's hut. "Come check out these ones."

He leads you to a tree with white flowers peeking through the leaves.

"Hey, Minho."

"Yeah?"

"What'd you mean 'other feelings'?"

Um. "What?" He asks nervously.

"You said there were 'other feelings' in the way. What did that mean?"

"Just... in general," he says weakly. "Feelings, thoughts. Etcetera."

You frown slightly at him, confused, but you're distracted as he reaches up to the tree.

"These're Ben's pride and joy," he says idly, plucking one of the flowers. "A damn pain to grow at first, but now they just bloom on their own."

You swallow as he turns to you, holding up the flower.

"Here."

Your heart beats fast as he steps into your space, and tucks the flower into your hair, behind your ear.

Neither of you move. Minho's hand is still hovering at your cheek, your face tilted up to meet his eyes, open and earnest.

Oh. Oh.

You break first, ducking your head down. "So, uh-"

"Yeah," says Minho, hand rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

He takes a deep breath. "So I, uh- I don't know what I'm doing, like... at all. Ya know, Ben and Newt had to sit me down and... whatever. I just- I like you," he confesses in a rush. "And I know I've done a shucked job of showing it, but I really, really like you."

You huff out a laugh, incredulous. "Minho, I like you too. That's mostly why I wanted to get closer to you."

"Oh," says Minho. "Well... do you think we could go on a date sometime? Maybe here, with the flowers. We could do dinner?"

You smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great," says Minho, grinning in a way he knows looks stupid (he doesn't care). "Cool.

"I guess we should be getting back, then." Minho gestures back to where the Glade is probably eating dinner now.

"Yeah," you agree, starting off behind him.

"Minho?" He turns at your voice, looking down at the hand you've extended, palm-up.

As he puts his arm out in the same way, slightly confused, you slip your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. You see his wide grin as you glance to your side.

"Hey, Y/n, think that date can be tomorrow?"

"Yes, absolutely."

Went full teenager throwback for this one - the awkwardness is tangible

Thanks for reading <3 Requests are open as always :)

#the maze runner #minho x reader #tmr minho x reader #tmr minho #my writing

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phantomphangphucker · 7 months ago

Text

Phic Phight - A Vega-Bond Space Case

@a-closet-emo @Anguished-Lurker @library-of-cronos @ghostboidanny @lexosaurus @uniasus @redactedgoose

Danny has a thing for space, always had, except now his ‘thing’ for space was more like actually physically BEING space. Danny’s also always had a thing for NASA, these two things were of course related since NASA’s entire thing was space, except now NASA also has a thing for Danny

Danny didn’t exactly have a ton of ways to go about being within his ‘domain’ as it were or satisfying that pesky little obsession of his. Yes he could go star gazing or literally fly up into space, which was great and all, but no matter how much you love and feel fulfilled by something it’s still good and needed to spice things up a bit. ClockWork subtly messed with the time stream in harmless, to time and the future, ways. Nocturne gave people nightmares even though that did disrupt their ability to sleep. Undergrowth went and ‘adopted a kid’ aka Sam to ‘raise someone worthy’ even though there was no need.

In short, everyone occasionally did something different and new.

So, Danny figured he should too. After all, he was still somewhat human and humans get bored and burnt out a lot easier and quicker. And Danny getting bored and burnt out meant an Obsessive crisis or two, which he’d rather avoid thank you very much. So he figured he‘d try something completely new, a way of being all ✨Space✨ by simply talking about it instead of staring at it or being physically surrounded by it. And by talking he means online, because he is not going to attempt to become a science teacher just to talk about space at bored teenagers or something. Sure him starting a vlog to excitedly blab about space was probably pretty silly, and sure he could also use the term vtuber since he used a 3d model to attempt to hide his identity, and sure he didn’t exactly expect many people to care; but it was nice. The 3d model was a fun little project for him and Tuck, and Sam had enjoyed picking out the things quirky clothing, and watching it move to his facial features and voice was really cool. It was almost like getting to listen to someone else blabber about space, which was super nice even if they weren’t actually even a real person or saying anything he hasn’t said before. It’s not like anyone could actually tell him something he didn’t already know anyways.

What Danny hadn’t expected was for his stupid little white-haired (because of course), shark-toothed, sparkly-skinned, virtual model vlog channel to actually do well. Like yes, some of his stuff was shorter clips, more ‘digestible’ as Jazz would say, but most of it was hours of knowledge vomit with breaths usually only taken for comedic effect. Then again, he was obsessed with space before he half died and it literally became his Obsession or before he became the literal god of space; so there was bound to be regular humans who actually did want to watch a five hour video about the composition of Jupiter’s rings and how it having slightly different compositions would change it. He’s still baffled that that video has over one million views, he’s also very thankful he went the 3d model route. He’s also thankful he still finds the channel name he picked funny: Vega-bond, after the North Star and based off of the word vagabond, since space was endless so his home as a being was effectively everywhere and nowhere and he could wander it’s and his own vastness forever. It had also caused some ‘James bond in space’ jokes though, even if he’s never actually see all those movies it was still funny.

Leaning back in his chair and editing a couple more seconds of a clip, taking a bite out of his sandwich and scowling. Ew. He really should learn to stop letting Jazz make food for him. Not only was she just as bad at cooking as he was, possibly worse actually, but she kept putting ectoplasm in his food! Intentionally or not, he doesn’t care. The sandwich goes back on the plate, he’ll get crackers later, right now he’s got a bit on asteroid turn over rates to fix. He’s also pretty sure this is the video where he goes on a bit of a tangent about the flavour of space rocks and what a star would most likely taste like to someone if they were able to eat one. Which fine, not the smartest thing to be talking about in a public form like this but hey, that hasn’t bit him in the ass yet. That Absentiona planet a few galaxies over was way too cool not to talk about okay! At least it seemed like a lot of people either thought he was theorising or that he actually worked with a space program and had been given permission to use the internet to educate people, since most people were not spending their time reading all of NASA’s public reports like he was.

…

Danny was also reading their not public reports of course, a great use of Tuck’s hacking skills if he says so himself. He left most of the internal memos alone since those were near always personell stuff and seldom related to space. (Which was something he was going to regret deeply later or maybe not). He did try to make a point to not talk about missions that hadn’t yet been made public or recent human discoveries that NASA hasn’t yet had a chance to publish their papers and internal memos on, Danny wasn’t trying to accidentally get people accused of plagiarism or rip away months to years of research away from the people who figured it out by stealing their thunder. But he’d get excited and he couldn’t bring himself to cut out stuff after the fact.

So sue him if he’s maybe stolen someone’s thunder once or twice, and maybe talked about things that humans would have never discovered, or things that humans don’t have the physical capability to comprehend. Hopefully no one tries to actually sue him though, if NASA does that he’s positive he’ll ugly cry for, like, a week.

Hearing Jazz footsteps up the stairs he tilts his head back, “Jazz! Neither of us can cook! Including with freaking ectoplasm! Stop trying!”.

She pokes her head into his room with a huff, eyes the sandwich with a single bite taken out of it, “I refuse. I will figure out a way to make it work, you need it”.

“What I need is for my food to be edible and not have definitely old and corrupted ecto in it”.

She winces, “damn. You know I can’t tell that”.

“Then stop trying!”.

“No!”.

Danny picks up the sandwich and makes throwing motions with it, he doesn’t actually throw it because he’ll probably give her a damn ecto-burn with the thing. It’s a miracle it hasn’t started moving on its own yet. she comes in anyways and grabs the plate, putting a hand on her hip and holding it out for him to put the sandwich back down on, “I’ll throw this one in the incinerator, Danny, but I’m not stopping”.

He releases the sandwich, “you suck”.

She rolls her eyes at him and eyes the computer, smiling a little, “I’m not even going to ask, since I can’t grasp your space babble any more than you can grasp my psycho babble”.

Danny snorts, shaking his head as she leaves, his sister cares but damn was it ever inconvenient and hazardous to his health. He was a freaking Ancient after all, he could get by without freaking ectoplasm, he wasn’t some weak level six ghost; stupid cravings or no. Heck, he wasn’t even a child ghost anymore so it was even less necessary! Sighing, “she’s still not going to give it a rest, is she?”.

And then his email pings. Oh cool, it’s probably another comment since it looks like it’s from his channel linked email.

It is an email.

It’s an email from NASA.

Holy shit.

By all the Ancients including himself and every single one of their domains. What the zone?!?

He’s pretty sure he actually squeaked and started floating, some little stars might have even appeared in the air.

What should he do?!? Should he open it?!? Should he ask Tuck to hack it so that the message won’t read as read?!? Should he attempt to knock himself out so he doesn’t have to deal with this?!? Should he take that sandwich back purely so he can give himself a horrific upset stomach with it?!?

It’s fucking NASA!

He can’t just… not. Like, even if that was a good idea he absolutely has to know what NASA wants!

He’s not freaking out, you’re freaking out. He should call someone right?!?

Yes.

Yeah.

He should.

Purely so he doesn’t violently click open the email in Obsession fuelled glee and horror. Tuck doesn’t even get a chance to ask what’s up, “NASA fucking emailed me, man. What do I do?!? Like it’s totally NASA, right email and everything and it’s totally to my vlog email so oh my zone that means that NASA, FREAKING NASA, has been watching my shit! Is this good is this bad should I be complimented? Do they want to talk space or tell me to shut up about space! What am I going to do if they want me to shut up about space I can’t shut up about space and why would I shut up about space! Wait what if they have a space problem and I can like totally help with that shit and they think I’m some odd expert and not some random dude in small town USA! What if they think I’m one of their men and are going to try and give me shit for spilling space secrets because oh shit I’m pretty sure no one actually released that new shit about plutos gravitational pull which is super neat and all but what if they’re mad-”

“Danny man, shut up before you start speaking in tongues or something”

Danny doesn’t even hear him honestly, “-because I could totally understand them being mad but it’s not like I’m actually stepping on their turf since their turf is actually my turf and I’m technically only letting them in it because I can and because people knowing and learning about space is like super cool and I totally would still love to be an astronaut even if that is totally not possible for so many damn reasons! But wait what if that’s what they want that would be so cool! Even if I know that’s not how they hire people and even if I totally disagree with their choice of head engineer because he seems kind of like an ass but hey I’m kinda an ass and I’d be great at the job and oh fuck what if I ignore this for too long and they send another email what do I do then-”

“DANNY!”.

Danny jerks a little bit and falls from the ceiling nearly face planting into his floor, “oh I ah, whoops. Sorry Tuck, it’s just space and NASA and what if they emailed me about space and of course they emailed me about space they’re freaking NASA and my channel is about space we can totally talk space-”.

“I’m going to have Sam show up and throw her shoe at you if you don’t chill, man. I can’t give you advice or offer to try and help, if you won’t let me speak”.

Danny curling into himself and breathing a little, putting a hand over his shirt to feel the way his core is pulsing like crazy, “right, shit, just, give me one second to just vibrate my shit out”.

“Of course, I’m going to hack your email to at least give you a heads up if you should be actually worried”.

Danny wheezing, stars just sort of popping into existence around him, “yeah, yeah, that’s good”; he fiddles with one of the little stars like is a fidget toy. He always loved the way they felt, and tasted, and they just looked stupidly wonderful. Even if he had to be careful about it since him ‘getting starry’ could be hard on people’s eyes. Forming a little planetary ring and swirling it around with his fingers, “how do I even respond to NASA without coming off as crazy?”.

“Do not word vomit? Don’t tell them you’re a space god? Don’t get mad at them for getting something wrong?”.

Danny blinks, twirling the planetary ring around his finger, “so everything I’m inclined to do? Gotcha”.

“Dude”.

“Well what if they ask for my credentials? What else do I have besides acing flight simulators and being a literal god?!?”.

“You do have a point there, but you’re actually good. They aren’t trying to sue or silence you, they aren’t attacking your credibility, they aren’t accusing you of running an illegal space operation, they aren’t questioning if you’re an alien, and they aren’t commenting on you basically having a backdoor into their systems”, he chuckles, “you absolutely should open it, man. Stay on the line because I want to hear you cry”.

Oh? Oh no why would Danny cry??? But Tuck giving him a verbal thumbs up means he can’t not open it right?

He’s stares at the computer and it’s unread email for a while. He’s nearly vibrating out of his skin, he’s pretty sure one of his arms has unfurled as he likes to call it. Spread out into goo strings and pulsating constellations of eyes and teeth, gaps in between filled with galaxy’s and miniature planets that could barely be called an arm with fingers with hundreds of joints that could be long as trees if he let them; as it was they were wrapping around his desk he thinks.

He opens the damn email.

It’s…

It’s a freaking job offer and Danny basically explodes into galaxy’s and constellations and eyes and teeth and bits of different animals, and what comes out of his mouth is utter ghost speak gibberish and random space noises even to his ears. He has to fold his legs and feet under him because they’re just too long when he’s like this, all of him is but his legs are the most needlessly long, but he doesn’t drop the phone at least.

Then Jazz bangs open the door, “Danny what the hell! Oh why!”, and promptly passes out. He manages to catch her with his tail before she hits the ground at least, he forgets that he can be incomprehensible like this if whoever isn’t prepared. He’ll just leave her lying on the fluffy cloud space dust that made up the ‘fluff fur’ at the end of his tail till she wakes up.

Him whining immediately, “T̶͈͎͚͗͗ù̴̢̜͝c̴͖̯͐̔͜k̸̲͇̹̅͑͠ ̶̛̲̀̎I̵͕̔̆ ̴̞̘̌̌̃k̸̦͚̲̎n̸̳͛o̴̟̎c̷̩̕k̶̗͍̽͛̈́ͅe̶̢̛͍̐d̷͎̞͒ ̶̞̞̆̓̕J̵̦̭̤̽ȁ̶̰̖̈́͘z̸̧͇̼͝ẓ̴̹̳̇̑̇ ̵̟͌̈̀o̵̡̝̅ṵ̷̚t̴̺̣͒̓̈́͜!”, and attempting to keep his voice not filled with the sound of dying stars.

Tuck laughs at least, “at this point she should know what she might be in for! You all space lovercraftian jerboa looking?”.

“D̶͙̪̃͠ủ̸̦̕d̵̜̑̔̒ę̴̛̥̻̒ ̶̜̊ͅǸ̵̞̐A̴̤͛͒̃S̸̢̓͗A̸͚̩̿,̴͉̊̔ ̸͂̋̅͜N̶̡̥͇̏A̵͍̐̌͘Ṡ̸͕͛̽Ã̷̯̫!̸̯̩͎̓̇̕,̷̳̈́ ̶̭̥̗̏i̷̥̘̻̐s̵͉͉̹̈͂͐ ̴͖̃͛t̶̘̚r̷͚̀̈́y̸͈͚̕ǐ̵̡ǹ̴͓g̵̣͇̱̚ ̶͖̕ṱ̶̝̫̈̂ö̶̻̲́̌͜ ̵̠̠̑ḩ̴̣̅̆͊i̷͎̠̤͌r̷͈̻͐̀͠e̶̡̮̽̀̈ ̶̡͕͒m̶̧̧̬͒é̷̺͙̈!̸̜̀ ̷̳͒͆Ỏ̸̳͖̰f̴̟̩̈́ ̵̼̔c̵̨͚̅̄͊ǒ̸̺̥̊ͅủ̴͇̬͎ŕ̵̳ṡ̸̟̼̪͋̿ȩ̸̢́͆̈́ ̵̢͔͗͒İ̵̪̦͒ ̷̟͎͉̈́̎â̶̺̭̥m̴̮̄!̵̘̰͛͜ ̴̠̀͠D̶̙͆o̶̠̬͂ͅ ̴̟͕̻̃̅͂t̷͖̦̳̃̂̈́h̷̜̣͊̏ē̴̡y̶̦̙̜͐͗̇ ̴͍̞̉́ͅk̴̗͗n̶̹̒ǒ̵̼̲̬̄̈́w̴̥̄̆ ̶̣̞̂̈w̶̢̧̝͗̕h̶͕͇̓̉͘e̶̳͎̎̅ͅr̵͕̊͆ĕ̷͚̮̾͝ ̶̡̭͊͒Í̴͇͝͝ ̶̦̤̔͂̚l̶͚̦͕̔͝i̴̺̍̄̑v̸̫̎̚͝ė̶̼͔̓͛ ̷̫̥̆o̶̩̍͘͠r̸̮̹͛ ̴̩͔̣͗̍̈́m̵̨̯̲̍y̷̮̤̖̌̾̾ ̵̯̜̈́a̵̪͇̐͝g̸̭͖̋ẽ̶͇ ̶͖͆w̶̔͜h̶͕̖̘͆̒̎y̶͕͇̾ ̸̬̠̈́d̴̰̈́o̷͇̽͒͘ë̴͈̭́s̶̺̭̈́ͅ ̸̜̇͆̌ḯ̷ͅt̷̪̗̩̔̿̇ ̴͖͈̼̄̊͋l̸̛̲͈͐̆ͅǒ̷̡̗ͅö̸̥́̍͆ḱ̷̭̟̪̈́̑ ̵̬̻̈́͘ͅl̴͕̙̞̐i̵̲̥̔̇̕k̶̛̫̎ê̶̼͙ ̴̫͌̑̆t̷̤̀̾ͅh̶̠̻̳͂̏e̸̛̺̣̬͂̾y̶̫̾̊ ̸͖̗̖̓͒̇d̸̮͈͆̿̏o̶̧͇̽͒͝n̶̖̈́’̷̡͔̮́̏t̴̛̙͑͝ ̶̡̰͋ȇ̷͓̘v̷̙̈́͠ͅe̸̡̙͍͠ṅ̴̰̚ ̴̠̦̾̈͛c̴̤̘͖͗̉̽a̵͔͑̚r̵̢͔̫̽́̒e̶̼̕ ̸̥̘͒̈́͐ͅá̶͎͝b̴̧͚̞̂ő̴̟̕͠ü̴̱̐͌t̶͔̻̙͒ ̵̹̳͉͂̉̉á̶̠̯̚͜ṅ̶̦̜̈́ẏ̶̛̪͙͘ ̴̢̥͖̈́c̷͙̓̈́́r̷̜̳͖͑ḕ̴͉̣̂͜d̸̲̬̒̊͝ę̸͕̋̾̏n̷̺̤̂t̴̤̐̽͋i̸͍͕̻͌̒ả̴̘̝͑ͅl̸̺͎̅̾̈š̶̻͚́̒”

“Danny chill, I can’t actually understand you and you’re going to wreck my phones speaker, I’m taking that mess as a yes and do you really think they’ll hire you if you can’t keep yourself together? I’m pretty sure they can’t let a horror monster onto a spaceship”.

Damn Tuck always knew how to cool him down quickly, he doesn’t compact himself back to ‘normal’ though just squishes down enough that he’s not knocking anything over or making the ceiling creak. Moving that tail that Jazz is still on so it and her are laying on his bed, “r̵i̷g̸h̶t̴,̷ ̴r̵i̸g̶h̴t̶,̷ ̸y̶e̷a̵h̶ ̶t̴h̷a̷t̵,̶ ̴t̷h̸a̴t̸ ̵w̴o̸u̷l̷d̶n̵’̸t̴ ̷g̵o̴ ̵o̴v̵e̶r̸ ̸w̴e̴l̷l̴”̵”.

“No kidding. Now did you put a hole through anything with your horns?”:

Danny glances around, it didn’t look like it at least. Plus Tuck didn’t call them goddamn bunny ears for a change, regardless of how similar they looked. “N̶o̶,̸ ̸d̴o̵n̷’̸t̵ ̷t̴h̷i̵n̴k̸ ̸s̶o̶”.

“You’re getting better! Congrats! Now are you going to try and take this job? Can you even type with your fingers right now?”.

Danny looking back to the computer and the email on screen, he has to really curl and bend his joints up and one of his shoulders is going past the entire computer but he can manage, “t̵h̴e̸r̸e̷'̵s̵ ̷n̵o̵ ̴w̵a̵y̴ ̸I̷ ̷c̴a̵n̴’̶t̷ ̵a̷t̷ ̷l̸e̸a̶s̵ ̵t̵r̷y̸,̴ ̷T̷u̷c̴k̴,̷ ̵a̵n̸d̴ ̴b̴a̴r̵e̷l̷y̶ ̶b̴u̵t̸ ̴y̷e̸s̷”.

“Alright then shoot your shot, man. Just try not to give away that you’re an eldritch horror”.

Danny can t help but grin, his teeth and lips swirling and curling on the sides of his face like galaxies, “t̷h̶a̸n̷k̴ ̷T̵u̸c̵k̸,̴ ̸s̸o̴r̶r̴y̵ ̴i̷f̶ ̷I̴ ̵f̴u̷c̶k̶e̴d̵ ̸u̶p̴ ̴y̸o̴u̸r̷ ̵p̸h̵o̵n̸e̵ ̴a̸g̵a̵i̷n̷”.

“Think nothing of it, Danny, not only do I expect it but I legit do not mind at all. I’ll take my best friend getting a hella awesome job offer that makes him go eldritch nightmare fuel on my ear drums over impromptu rescue mission any day”, Tuck laughing as he hangs up.

Man is Danny ever glad he called his goddamn best friend. The message he sends back to FREAKING NASA is excited but not overly crazy. He doesn’t go on a tangent, he only hits the wrong keys a few times and has to fix it, he doesn’t accidentally break anything, and he doesn’t mention anything that he knows NASA doesn’t know about. Yes he wants the job, yes that would be very awesome, yes he promises he has the capability, yes yes yes. Oh he’s vibrating again and a couple of his stars that comprise up part of his knee explode and reform.

Jazz groaning makes him still, moving a hand to have two finger tips over her eyes, “s̶o̷r̸r̴y̷,̴ ̴t̸o̵o̷ ̴e̶x̴c̷i̷t̸e̴d̷ ̴t̵o̸ ̵c̸o̶m̴p̴a̴c̷t̶ ̸m̸y̴s̸e̷l̵f̶ ̸r̶i̷g̴h̶t̸ ̶n̷o̶w̵.̷ ̶N̷A̸S̵A̵ ̶y̷e̵s̵ ̸N̴A̴S̶A̸ ̶o̶f̵f̵e̶r̶e̵d̷ ̷m̶e̴ ̵a̶ ̴j̵o̷b̸ a̴n̵d̸ I̵ ̷a̴m̵ ̵l̴o̵s̵i̵n̴g̷ ̵m̴y̵ ̷m̸i̶n̵d̷ ̶a̶n̷d̷ ̷c̴o̷r̸e̵ a̵ l̵i̷t̵t̶l̸e̶ ̵b̶i̸t̴ ̶h̷e̵r̴e̷”.

She beams, sitting up slowly and not moving Danny’s fingers off of her eyes, “that’s awesome Danny!”, she points in the direction his voice came from, “you better have said yes”.

“I̸t̸’̸s̶ ̷N̸A̵S̷A̴ ̵o̶f̶ ̸c̶o̵u̵r̷s̸e̵ ̴I̸ ̷d̸i̶d̶!̸”, pouting to himself, “I̴’̷m̶ ̸j̵u̴s̸t̵ ̷t̴r̸y̷i̴n̷g̷ t̵o̴ ̷f̶i̷g̸u̶r̸e̷ ̸o̷u̷t̷ ̴h̷o̶w̶ ̸t̷o̸ ̴e̷v̸e̸n̵ g̸o̸ t̴h̸e̴r̷e̸ ̵w̵i̷t̶h̷o̵u̷t̴ ̷b̶e̶i̶n̶g̵ ̵a̵l̴l̷ ̷n̶i̷g̵h̶t̴m̴a̸r̶e̷ f̴u̵e̴l̵”.

She hums and taps her chin, “yeah your potential employer or coworkers wouldn’t appreciate having to wear blind folds or ear protection in case you get too excited or hyper-fixate into your Obsession too much”, humming some more, “obviously depowering yourself would be stupid, so don’t even think about it. They found you through your vlog I'm to guess, which I know you’re a little too liberal on with information, so they probably know something about you is off, so you can get away with being a little strange; your more human level of strange at least”. He’s fully fucking aware of that, hence why this was kind of a problem, even in his human form he wasn’t going to be able to contain himself super well. Just getting the job offer made him unfurl entirely, actually getting the job? He’s going to accidentally rip the building apart or something. She nods to herself, “well you will not get the job like this, meaning you will not be able to do space stuff with NASA if you can’t keep a lid on this”.

He knows tha- oh OH! Okay yeah. Okay. Right sometimes he needed others to tell him that shit for his core to get the damn message. Jazz nearly stumbling forward off his bed when he folds in on himself, leaving his white-haired ‘normal’ ghost self floating vaguely in the middle of the room and blinking at her, “point received apparently”, and shakes his head. He wasn’t exactly a super huge fan of his eldritch form, it was freaky and so disconnected from how a human body worked and moved.

She cracks an eye open cautiously before opening them fully at Danny being normal, “okay good”, standing up and moving on slightly shaky legs to his closet, “now what do you have to wear that is professional and doesn’t make you seem obessesed with space”.

He floats after her, “it’s a space job shouldn’t I dress space-themed?”, his laptop email pinning results in him nearly teleporting to it.

“No. They can already tell you’re crazy about space from the vlog, you don’t want to seem like that’s all you care about and love by also dressing in space themed clothing”.

Danny vibrates, it’s from NASA, NASA!, oh he almost wants to spread out again just to have more of him to vibrate! They set a date! A time! Three days.

It’s in three days!

They were moving so fast! Oh they definitely knew something weird was up with him! Was that good? Bad? Probably good-ish. Otherwise they’d care about his schooling and expirence and wouldn’t possibly ignore his inhumanness. He knows he’s got stars zipping through his hair and too many eyes when he looks at Jazz, “three days. They want to talk to me in three days! Me!”, and screams a little.

She hurls a button up patterned like a arcade floor at his face, “if you scream at them they won’t hire you, and what you’re saying is they’re not giving you any time to actually calm down. They are absolutely trying to figure out how you know what you know by blindsiding you like this”.

Danny gestures ridiculously, “and I don’t even care because it’s NASA, NASA can mess with me all they want!”. He pops that stupid tail of his out and bits the fluffy space dust, spinning head over heels in the air excitedly. This was awesome! So cool! Even if they didn’t hire him or thought he was utterly insane he would still get to met them! This was the best day ever!

She laughs at his antics, “you are so lucky mom and dad aren’t here right now. Even if they would be very proud”, she grabs him, stilling his spinning but almost dragging her along with, “as I am, but you definitely got to keep yourself contained. Even if they do want to hire ‘nightmare fuel’ they won’t if they think meeting you was a hallucination”.

He pouts a little, dropping his tail from his mouth, “I know that”, pouting a little more, “it’s times like this I’d rather look more like Clocky than Nocturne”.

“I know, but it suits you, and at least if you do wind up going to space legally any stars might get brushed off as just being part of space”.

“Aka part of me”.

She rolls her eyes at him before going wide-eyed and jumped up, “oh! Now I need to figure out how to make space food for you!”.

“What?!? No! Bad! What if you poison one of the astronauts!”.

“Then you can nurse them back to health”.

“Do not mess with my protectiveness like that!”.

She only laughs at him, but at least he gets himself human again, tail sticking around so he can fiddle with the ‘fluff’ while attempting to keep editing and not vibrate himself out of his mortal flesh again. He fails at that repeatedly.

----

Pretty much the only thing that’s keeping him compact and human while he’s getting ready for the goddam interview with NASA is the fact he absolutely will not get the job without being at least human passing. Sam actually showed up and stole all his space themed clothing -even the underwear!- to make sure he couldn’t wear it. He does go with the dress shirt Jazz threw at him that day, wound up picking pants that he’s pretty sure are actually Sam’s that she just left here, and a stupid pair of dress shoes Vlad gave him once. Heck he even threw on a yellow bandanna around his neck to make double sure his scars were hidden! Who knows if his medical history was going to get questioned because he’d fail that shit instantaneously.

… Unfortunately none of that matter at all.

Why?

Because the second he got to the freaking NASA field centre he loses his human form from pure excitement… and the secretary walks out before he can change back! At least he didn’t unfurl or explode! She… isn’t even surprised and that’s enough to keep him from vibrating himself into the floor. She just leads him, currently a ghost -she knows this isn’t what any human being looks like right? She can see that he’s glowing right? Right!?!-, into the little interview room.

He.

Is in.

A NASA interview room. He wants to smell the walls and eat them. Shit his teeth are too big. He slaps his cheeks mere seconds before his apparent interviewer comes in.

At least as a ghost his cheeks won’t be tinted red. Fuck him entirely.

The man actually chuckles, setting papers down on the desk and holding his hand out for a hand shake. How the Zone is this going okay? He shakes the man’s hand, his name tag says ‘A. Bowman’. Holy shit he’s one of the actual higher up’s!

… Oh they one hundred percent knew something was funky with ‘Vega-bond’ if they sent a higher up to talk to him.

Bowman eyes his own hand as they both sit down, Danny aggressively forcing himself not to float, “ghost skin tingles, interesting”, looking at Danny properly, “well I suppose this answers one of many questions, or rather most of many”.

Danny being a ghost was a… good thing? Well alright then. Tilting his head, “it does?”. He didn’t even mean to show up looking like this!

Bowman knits his fingers together and leans forwards at him, actually grinning, “it does. Your channel, you’ve talked about subjects, in depth, that even we have no knowledge of. It was much too in-depth to not be reality, and while encouraging plenty of debates is a good outcome actually meeting the person behind it is far more valuable”.

Sweet Ancients the job offer was serious. It is so hard to bounce around or something, fuck his eyes are probably glowing a bit too much to be pleasant to look at, “I technically am not actually supposed to be talking about that stuff but I get carried away easily”, and rubs his neck awkwardly.

Bowman hums at him and Danny doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. “Well I can certainly say I’m glad space excites you”, he shuffles the papers a bit, “I take it your interest in space, regardless of your state of living, is why you agreed to this interview?”.

Danny nodding immediately, “yeah! I’ve actually wanted to be an astronaut since I could walk, you know, before the obvious happened”. Oh Zone is he going to have to explain dying to NASA? “I’m pretty sure no doctor in their right mind would clear me to go to space, legally at least”.

Bowman nods acceptingly, “and based on your wealth of knowledge it’s clear you would have been willing to work towards that childhood dream, yes?”.

Danny begins gesturing a little excitedly, “I used to build model rockets and memorised every space flight simulator I could get my hands on. I spent years saving up for the best telescope money could buy and never missed any celestial event. My family even paid for a zero gravity flight once as my birthday and truce- I mean christmas present”, laughing awkwardly to try and stop himself from rambling, “I probably had a concerning amount of drive for it”.

“That’s the only kind worth having”, the man nods strongly, “anything less and this isn’t a good fit. Would you say you still have that drive?”.

“If I didn’t I wouldn’t be me”, Danny says that in the firm voice he usually used when fighting someone genuinely dangerous or lecturing the Observants about trying to inhibit him.

Bowman grins at that, “good. Then-”, eyeing the papers, “-obviously your, younger appearance means you don’t have any work experience to speak of. So what experience do you have?”.

“Does being a town hero since my freshman year of high school count as previous working experience? I feel like it should”. Like really, the sheer amount of ‘experiences’ he’s had could fill novels and pad out entire tv shows. “I’ve fist fought a god? Multiple gods actually?”.

“Typically, we strictly prefer if our employees don’t get into fist fights”.

Ah yeah, that tracked and was fair. “Think of a weird situation and I’ve probably done it, I had to land one of your spacecrafts once actually since it became sentient and tried to eat me; everyone got mind wiped because it was a little too weird for most people to handle remembering. I’ve got lots of lab experience and my hazmat isn’t just for show, especially with handling hazardous materials; granted I am made of hazardous materials. I’ve time travelled, had to wrangle sentient turkey, been inside books, been shrunk”.

Bowman shaking his head and pulling a tablet out of the drawer, holding up a finger while he types on it.

Danny really hopes he’s not in trouble, he could probably go on forever about the things he’s done. Oh and now his tails out, damn it, at least it’s just wrapped around his one ankle and he’s squishing its space dust fluff with his foot for something to do other than mentally freak out.

Bowman puts the tablet down, oh hey he was looking Phantom up! for stories about the stuff he’s done? Him eyeing Danny, “you’ve ridden a dragon and yet want to be an astronaut?”.

Danny beams, “yes!”, rubbing his neck, “dragons aren’t that special to me, since my younger sister is one. I’m literally from a dimension that doesn’t have gravity and I’ve been to space a lot”.

He blinks, “you’ve already been to space?”.

Oh are they going to be bothered he violated space sanctions? Laughing awkwardly, “I’m always in a state of zero gravity and don’t need to breathe, so yeah as soon as I knew I could I did. I’ve been outside of the Milky Way multiple times”. How the actual Zone would this interview have even gone if he had managed to stay human the whole time???

Bowman looks baffled, “you’ve actually been outside of the Milky Way? No human could ever hope to do that”, he looks more confused, “if you can do such a thing then why would you want to work with us?”.

He’s honestly a little lost on why Bowman is even confused why Danny’d want to still work at NASA, it’s NASA! Traveling to space with other people who are crazy about space would be a-mazing! Regardless of how much they know or don’t he could excitedly babble with people who could excitedly babble back and actually understand each other! He could see all their faces when they see all his space and their fascination and love for all of it! And ain’t that great all on its own? Sure he could observe them as he is now from space but it would be so different to actually be in there with them and have them actually know he’s there! Should he tell Bowman that Danny’s the one that rescued Oppy? Technically he shouldn’t have and yes the Observants gave him shit but that ‘I’ll be seeing you’ song broke his still somewhat human heart and he had to save the little fella. Danny quirks an eyebrow, “because travelling to space with others who love and research space and seeing all the wonder and research over it sounds like a dream?”.

Bowman blinks and nods, “then it’s more the people, the science, than the mere act of going to space for you?”, tilting his head, “how far have you gone?”.

“I… can’t answer that second one since that would confirm whether or not the universe has an edge”. It didn’t but he can’t be confirming that. “And that might mess with established reality and multiple gods would get very mad at me”. Bowman looks impressed actually. “But yeah, it’s the people and just getting to work with and for NASA. I couldn’t think of a better thing to do with my afterlife”, rubbing his neck, “obviously I still have my protector job to do but it wouldn’t interfere”.

“You can still protect your town while also being on a spaceship?”.

“Time and space are more malleable than people think”, shrugging, “and I can duplicate my body so being two places at once isn’t really an issue”. Not to mention the fact that he literally was space so he could move through it however he pleased. Huh, it’s starting to feel more like he’s just talking to a person than NASA which is making this freak his shit out a little less.

Bowman nods more to himself, “and if you can leave the Milky Way and return in an infinitely small amount of time then you could certainly do the same within its system”, lifting his hands up and resting his chin on them, “well my mind’s certain made up, consider yourself hired. If I may, how do you move though space and time so fast? Are there improvements we could make to our suits or crafts, you think?”.

Danny’s pretty sure his smile breaks his face a little and there’s stars in his teeth, a nebula in his mouth when he speaks, “a̷w̷e̸s̵o̵m̸e̵!”, clearing his throat and ignoring Bowman’s wince, “o̶h̸ t̶h̵i̶s̵ ̵i̶s̵ ̵s̴o̴ ̷a̴m̶a̵z̶i̷n̴g̸!”, there’s a little pop and crackle, a high pitched whine sizzle; oh shit he might have broken a minor galaxy, whoops. Being a young god was a such a pain. He swats at some of the stars that had cropped up around his head and through his hair, “heh. Got a little excited there”.

“I’m pretty sure you just created tiny stars”, Bowman looks stuck between awe and bafflement, “the sheer amount of research that would be available with stars so small. How?”.

“Uh”. Well shit, there goes the ‘be normal Danny’ crap. But! But but but but but! NASA WANTS HIM! Like ACTUALLY wants HIM! HIM! Sure he’s going to get asked so many questions about him and how he is what he is but it’ll be by astronomists! And astrochemists! And astrophysicists! And just general stargazers! He wants to scream but if he does that he’s going to terrify this guy! Ugh! Shaking his head out and possibly sending away eyes that shouldn’t be there, tail squeezing around his ankle a little, “okay so it might not be super public right now but I have space-related powers? Space is my thing as a ghost”.

Bowman makes a couple of faces, “do these powers often act up when you’re excited? Are any coworkers going to need to be briefed on you?”, eyeing the tablet, “so it’s similar to the… Box Ghosts interest in boxes?”.

Should… should Danny just say fuck it and tell this man that he’s not simply space related but the literal personification of space??? It would probably explain some stuff and holy shit no way could Danny actually really keep himself all contained if he gets to GO TO SPACE WITH NASA! Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh. His stupid horns are gonna pop out at this point, ugh. “Probably a good idea, heh. I’m young so I guess, you could say, I don’t keep the best lid on myself. I totally definitely want to see and get involved in everything immediately but if I do that I will definitely terrify you guys and possibly destroy something even if I will definitely be able to fix it too”, oh he’s vibrating now, great, “I can definitely be a lot in a lot of categories but you can’t really use me or mine for research, or well none of mine that’s actually like directly connected to me since studying all of mine is kinda what y’all do but the more direct me me is very ghostly and made of ecto and totally useless for human based research”. Danny manages to make himself shut up, it’s a feat really, his horns are absolutely poking out his hair a little.

A shooting stars goes across his chest and Bowman absolutely stares at it. The man eyeing Danny’s hair/horns and his face, while Danny’s trying to keep his grin from doing that damn spiral galaxy thing at the edges. “It… sounds like you view space as being yours and… your appearance can clearly change to something less human-looking”.

Oh no Danny’s made this awkward. He can’t rescind the job right? Right! “Lots of ghosts can be on the incomprehensible side, I’m generally good at not pulling that out on people. And um, it kinda is? I’m not exactly a normal ghost, more of a person who ascended into becoming a personification?”, gesturing wth a hand that’s fingers are a little too long and sharp and have a few too many joints, “I’m not gonna like spoil things or steal people’s glory or anything though I’m pretty good at making sure I don’t spill the beans on something I know NASA’s researching even if there’s nothing to be found that I don’t know but people researching and finding out and being baffled and loving space is my jam and I love it very much and would very much like to be along for the ride and aid?”.

Bowman squints at Danny, making him squeak a sound similar to Benstoma’s fire rain. Please let him still get hired. Please let him still get hired. Please let him still get hired. Please let him still get hired. PLEASE! “Are you claiming you’re a… personification of part or all of space? And that’s why you know things we could never hope to know and why you spent hours talking about such things online?”.

“Yes? Am I still hired?”.

… “Can you refrain from creating stars and what sounded like what we’ve hypothesised a minor cool dwarf star exploding would sound like?”.

“I won’t do it on the ship? Or near research stuff? Or I’ll keep it contained inside myself very solidly?”.

Bowman actually sighs tiredly at him, oh no now Danny’s getting the reaction he always did from people who had put up with his bullshit for a little too long. Shit. Blurting out, “I’m also the person who rescued Oppy?”; yanking out his phone and showing the selfie he took with the little rover, giving a very awkward smile. Oh the Observants were gonna be pissed about this entire conversation holy shit.

Bowman stares at him, almost looking like he’s tearing up a little, before shaking his head, “oh what the hell, who am I to tell literal space itself ‘no’”, and stands up to shake Danny’s hand again.

Danny absolutely wants to unfurl and maybe if Jazz and Tuck and Sam hadn’t been very aggressive about pointing how bad of an idea that would be then he would have. As it is he just vibrates, tail unwinding and swishing around, “y̸o̵u̸ ̸a̵r̸e̸ ̴t̸h̴e̴ ̶b̶e̸s̴t̶!”, standing up and giving the man his hand shake, quickly realising he’s at least a foot taller that he should be; crap his legs got all long and weirdly animisticly jointed.

Bowman’s blinking down at the tail, “is that made out of IDP’s and micro-meteors?”; meanwhile Danny’s shaking out his legs to get them back to a more human length.

Danny blinking, oops. Moving the tail end fluff up into his own hands and cupping it, still having to lean down a little, “yup! Most of my, uh, I guess ‘fur’? is cosmic dust. Wanna touch it? It won’t hurt you”, shrugging, “my stars do burn though so don’t touch those”.

Bowman looks absolutely fascinated and Danny is absolutely living for it! He’s vibrating again and just seeing the man poking it and thinking a mile a minute is making Danny oh so giddy. Some parts of him are absolutely getting all goopy constellations but it’s not too extreme… yet. Is this why ClockWork never really put up much of a fight when Danny wanted to do dumb shit with the time stream? Because it was just so great and satisfying to watch someone be focused in on your thing as an Ancient? And he thought talking to people in the comments section about everything space was a rush, this was so much better! He’s gonna have to make sure he doesn’t aggressively over indulge.

Bowman hums, “actually seeing cosmic dust moving as it does this close is certainly interesting”, looking at Danny’s face, “you won’t contaminate our samples though”.

“Oh absolutely not! Messing up space research would go against my nature so that’s not gonna happen”. Danny would never! Plus if he even could he would have already considering he’s already been inside basically every NASA building by now; including some that don’t exist anymore or never did and never will.

Bowman grinning, “good. Even if you can’t also be an impromptu sample source”.

Danny holding up a finger, “I also can’t or shouldn’t really, answer your questions for you. What’s on my channel isn’t stuff humans would have ever figured out so I decided it was no harm”, muttering to himself, tail flicking near the ground, “the universe overseers still weren’t happy but I hate them so whatever”.

Bowman shakes his head and walks to the door, “come along, I’ll show you around, try to contain all your space self please?”.

“If I hadn’t already been inside this building multiple times that would be impossible for me”.

“You broke in? Repeatedly?”.

“I can be invisible and intangible. And space is technically everywhere all the time. But actually getting shown around is, a-mazing. Tell me everything”.

Bowman smiles at him like he’s an excitable child and actually indulges Danny, explaining even the really simply tiny things and Danny is absolutely adoring and absorbing every second of it; he’s vibrating and stars dance across his skin, sometimes he has to smack bits of stars or galaxy back into himself but he mostly manages.

…

He also has to throw out the lunch Jazz packed him -having rightfully assumed that he absolutely would not be back home in time for said lunch- as it had growled at him and Danny refused to eat anything that could make sounds. Bowman eyeing the bag Danny crushed closed hastily, “you eat? And your food shrieks?”.

Danny sighing, damn it Jazz, “a certain someone keeps trying to get me to eat ectoplasm since I technically spend too much time in the living realm to get enough from the environment here, unfortunately she is not a good cook and I think eating ectoplasm is extremely disgusting and morally questionable”.

“That does sound unfortunately close to cannibalism, but I’m sure we could work something out with this caretaker of yours to get you approved for special lunches”.

Danny groans exaggeratedly at the man, who smirks a little at him.

And Bowman absolutely did get in touch with one Jasmine Fenton who was all too eager to try and set up program approved experimental ectoplasm space rations for NASA’s newest and strangest member. NASA’s scientists were dramatically better at figuring out how to get ectoplasm to work in physical food, so she was very happy.

When Danny got home the very first thing he did was call Tuck with, “so you know that whole don’t tell them you’re a space eldritch god? Yeah I fucked that up”.

“Ha! I’m almost impressed! And they still hired you?”.

“Yup! I might have appealed to his love for space with my stupid space dust tail, and I mentioned saving Oppy”.

“Oh how manipulative”.

“Oh shut up! Anyway he showed me around-”, Danny spends over an hour just gushing about everything Bowman had showed off to him, Tuck humours him but clearly isn’t really following the conversation. Man it was going to be awesome to talk space with people who could and would!

End.

Prompts: "Shouldn't being the town hero since my freshman year of high school count as previous working experience?" "What did you want to be, when you grew up?" Every strange thing Danny has ever done, accidentally or not, comes back not to haunt him, but to help him. Danny starts a vlog to talk about space, but as the Ancient of Space he knows more about it than all top scientists together. NASA discovers his vlog. Danny accidentally shows up to a NASA job interview as Phantom. He’s hired on the spot. Ghosts need ectoplasm to stay healthy and by golly is Jazz going to figure out a way to introduce it to Danny's diet. Sometimes you just gotta be an eldritch horror.

#danny phantom #phandom #phic phight #phicphight24 #danny fenton #tucker foley #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker #my writing #jazz #nasa #eldritch #space ancient danny #gothmoth

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mxr1na · 2 months ago

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✧˖°ʚ🍵ɞ♡Sicktember Day 1[I’m not hungover, I’m just sick]Jeckole Angst- Class of ‘09✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡

A/N: Day 1 of @sicktember’s 2024 Event! I really had fun doing this even though it was a time crunch cause I was just aware of the event like yesterday, but it’s fine. 🌊🫧Info!🫧🌊 730~ words

Inadequate writing lol

See here! to participate in the Sicktember event!

See here! to find all my Sicketmber works!

Tw!- Heavy swearing, drug abuse + mention of vomit. Viewer discretion is advised.

Enjoy ^^

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ “Bitch why the fuck you haven’t been answering my calls? I know you don’t want to do the project, but I need this to graduate high school-”

Jecka slams open Nicole’s bedroom door, an obscene amount of annoyance washed away as she spots the brunette rotting in her bed in the humid room, which feels like being in a gym locker room.

Somehow, Nicole still looks appealing to the male demographic even if she is sickly pale with eyebags so deep you could’ve mistaken them for potholes.

She coughs, and smiles wanly at her. “Hey Jecka,”

“Oh shit are you okay?” Immediately at Nicole’s side, Jecka looks at her, feeling the creases and wrinkles under Nicole’s eyes. Her ebbing annoyance spikes up again.

“Ugh, did you try that MySpace challenge, the one where they’d snort a foot long line of whatever drug they could find? You know people actually died from that shit right?”

“When did you keep up with the news? No, I’m just down with the flu. I’m not that crazy,”

“The Spanish Flu?! Yeah right, don’t fucking lie to me. No one looks this bad when having the flu. Where’s the stash?”

“Well I am!” Nicole snaps. “I get sick easily.I’ve been convulsing and throwing up for hours, couldn’t you tell?” She points to the evident putrid vomit bucket, almost filled to the brim with puke beside the bed.

“Ew, shouldn’t your mom, like, empty that?” Jecka scrunches up her face.

“No, she’s too busy stocking up her medicine cabinet with beta blocker to care… Speaking of, can you get me some Paracetamol from there? Everywhere hurts like hell,”

Jecka sighs “Knowing you, you’d probably mix it with bedside stash of Xanax, crush it up and snort it, so no, stay hurting like hell,”

“Fuck you, whore,”

Jecka rolls her eyes and sits down on the side of the bed.

“That being said, I’m really concerned about you Nicole. This life isn't good for you…”

“Who are you? My friend or a guidance counsellor that isn’t trying to fuck me?”

“Okay you know what? Fuck you, I’ll just tell you straight. You’re fucked up and need help, and not even the cool sexy way that people fantasise about. The way people are being put in the mental asylum fucked up. And I’m sorry I can’t be like you, or even want to be like you, bu-”

“Oh don’t make me laugh. We’ve popped percs and have done drugs together, don’t act all high and mighty now, when you yourself is as bad as I am,”

Jecka hesitates, scrambling her brain to say something as equally smart as her statement only 10 seconds ago.

“Well- atleast I don’t take the illegal shit, just fucking around with kid stuff to blow off some steam! You know, the ones that literally every high schooler would take in high school?”

“Oh, just because what I use is illegal makes me worse than you huh? The outcome is the same, isn’t it? The reason we take it is the same, is it not? Using it to get off some steam. So when I use an alternative you don’t like, then, I’m in the wrong?” Nicole’s face is manic, insane, testing Jecka’s will to not just bend her back over to agree with Nicole, like she usually does.

“Stop trying to act all philosophical and shit to guilt me into agreeing with you. I’m just trying to help,” A tentative step backwards. Look at you Jecka! Making progress!

“I don’t need your fucking help Jessica.” Nicole chucks the bucket at Jecka, who swiftly dodges it, all but some vomit finding its new home on her shirt.

After that, she just…

Snaps.

Jecka shoves Nicole, making her hit the headboard, earning a bunch of her hair being roughly pulled, almost ensuring her to be left with a bald patch on her scalp.

“What, the FUCK NICOLE? I WANT TO HELP BECAUSE WE ARE FRIENDS! WHAT, JUST BECAUSE I’LL BEND MY BACK OVER FOR MOST THINGS YOU ASK ME TO DO MAKES ME YOUR LITTLE PLAYTHING? YOU’RE FUCKED UP AND NEED TO BE LOCKED UP!”

“I DONT NEED YOUR HELP, AND I NEVER DID. JUST FUCK OFF!”

Ouch. That must’ve stung. But if it hurt Jecka, no evidence of it showed on her face.

“OKAY I WILL” Jecka slams the door shut, a gross trail of footprints tailing behind her.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mxr1na 2024. Do NOT copy, rewrite or claim work as your own. If you see my work elsewhere, please send an ask :3

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sneakykpopblog · 1 year ago

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Purple Everywhere

(Inspired by what Hobi said, I’m sorry, I’m on a road trip and feeling very creative)

Sickie: Hoseok

Caretaker: Yoongi

1k words

Warnings: Vomiting, alcohol, drunkenness

Yoongi should have known better than to let Hoseok have “one more sip” (not a sip, and not just one) of wine. Not when his eyes were already that droopy and he had only spoken three words in the past twenty minutes (“yeah”, “uh-huh”, and “yep”, respectively).

Now he looked even more out of it, and Yoongi feared he might not be feeling well because he’d stopped idly snacking and was just sitting there like he was in a trance: a distinctly unpleasant one.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi hardly dared to ask at this point.

“Yeah…”

Not a minute later, Hoseok bolted up from the table and ran. He disappeared around the corner, but that didn’t stop Yoongi from hearing the sickening splatter that meant he hadn’t quite made it. Yoongi got up as well to find Hoseok braced with one arm against the wall, almost falling into the brightly-colored mess on the floor.

“Oh.”

Hoseok heaved again, and Yoongi wrinkled up his nose. Purple, all over his nice rug, and the floor, too. Ha. Purple. And a little on the baseboard, too, how nice.

“Sorry,” Hoseok rasped.

“Are you done?”

“Hmm…”

“Bathroom.” Hoseok didn’t move. “Bathroom, Hoseok.” Yoongi took him firmly by the arm and half-supported, half-dragged him into the bathroom and lowered him to the floor in front of the toilet. “Stay here. If you need to throw up again, right there.”

Hoseok looked mournful.

“I’m coming back,” said Yoongi, just in case his drunk friend got any ideas of trying to stand up and follow him. “Stay right here.”

It wouldn’t be the fist time Yoongi had cleaned vomit off a floor because someone had overestimated their ability to run to a bathroom in time. (Sometimes that someone had been himself. And poor Jimin after the American Fried Fish Incident)

“I can- I can clean,” Hoseok called from the bathroom in a voice as wobbly as a candle flame on a windy day.

“You’re drunk.”

“Okay.”

The floor and the baseboard were easy. The rug… Yoongi didn’t like its chances to not be purple forever, but maybe a thorough deep-cleaning could salvage it. At least it wasn’t white.

Hoseok sounded pretty miserable in the bathroom, and Yoongi stuck his head in to make sure he wasn’t dying. He wasn’t. He was, however, hunched over throwing up again, thankfully over the toilet this time. Yoongi moved the rug to be better dealt with later, threw away his cleaning gloves, and scrubbed his hands like Lady Macbeth. Then he got a cup of water from the kitchen and went back to Hoseok.

“I threw up again,” said Hoseok sadly.

“Yeah.” Yoongi offered him the water. “Rinse your mouth.”

Hoseok shied away from the water and gagged over the toilet again, this time only bringing up a little purplish liquid. It sounded painful anyway. Yoongi rubbed gently between his shoulder blades.

“Ew,” said Hoseok eloquently when he was done.

Yoongi offered him the water again, which he made a face at.

“Just rinse your mouth.”

Hoseok looked bewildered. “Like mouthwash?”

“Exactly.”

Hoseok struggled to get up, but he didn’t get very far.

“Where are you going?”

“To rinse?”

“Right here.” Yoongi succeeded in getting him to take the cup.

“The sink…”

“You can spit in the toilet. It’s okay.”

Hoseok made a disgusted face at it. “That’s gross.”

“You already threw up in it.”

“You’re right.”

He rinsed his mouth without any further complaint, but Yoongi knew the hardest part was still to come.

“I bet you want to sleep,” he said sweetly.

“Yeahhhh…. I’m so floppy.” Hoseok demonstrated this by flopping over and forcing Yoongi to catch him. Water sloshed out of the cup in his hand. “Oops.”

“Don’t worry,” said Yoongi. “Two sips of that and you can lay down.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Well, you need to.”

“Can I blow my nose?”

Yoongi gave him a tissue for the purpose and tried to ignore him, which was hard with Hoseok still leaning awkwardly into him.

“Ugh, did I puke through my nose?”

“Probably a little. That’s pretty normal,” he added quickly. “Drinking water helps.”

“Don’t wanna throw up again.”

“You won’t,” Yoongi (probably) lied.

Hoseok looked incredulous, but he was drunk and trusting, and he drank a few sips of water without further argument. After a moment’s thought, Yoongi helped him to his feet and led him by the hand to his guest room, where he made him sit down on the bed and tucked him in in his clothes.

“I can sleep on the couch,” said Hoseok.

“It’s easier to change sheets than to clean a couch. I’m much happier this way.”

“Mmm.” Hoseok snuggled a pillow.

“I’ll be right back. Stay awake.” He brought a trash can to put by the side of the bed and water for the bedside table. “If you need to throw up any more, try to use the trash can.” As a precaution, Yoongi dragged the other rug out of harm’s way.

“Okay. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad. I’d just rather not have to clean my floor again.”

“Okay, thanks. Sorry.”

He was too cute to be mad at anyway. Yoongi smoothed his unruly hair. “It’s okay.”

Hoseok leaned a little into his touch. “Staying?”

He should probably keep an eye on him. “Okay. I need to change real quick.”

He felt a little guilty for making Hoseok sleep in his clothes, but helping someone that drunk change was outside Yoongi’s skill set. He expected Hoseok to already be asleep when he returned, but he was still awake to make grabby hands at him when he climbed into bed. Yoongi indulged him and gave his hand a warm little squeeze.

“You’re so niiiice.”

Yoongi felt a little flash of warmth. “You’re easy to be nice to. Go to sleep.”

“M’really drunk.”

“Yeah. Face that way, I’ll rub your back.”

Hoseok gave him a dopey smile.

“You have to turn around, though.”

It took a minute for Hoseok to register what he’d said, but eventually he did flop ungracefully onto his other side. Now hopefully safer from the possibility of being thrown up on in the night, Yoongi lightly scratched Hoseok’s back until he fell asleep, which was only about a minute.

In the morning, a mostly lucid and very apologetic Hoseok offered to get his rug cleaned, and Yoongi took him up on it.

#bts sickfic #sick!hoseok #caretaker!yoongi

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astarlightmonbebe · 6 years ago

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I just hit 500 followers and I am literally astounded!!!! The more I think about it, the more amazed I am. 5 0 0 p e o p l e like my blog this much? Enough to hit that follow button??? WOW. I’ve had this blog since mid-November, so about 8 months now, and now I’m finally going to write those paragraphs I’ve been promising to the people who I appreciate and love <333 even though I suck at putting it into words

@huskyfelix Ulfah!!! I know we don’t talk that much anymore, but I am forever grateful that you actually reached out to me and decided that you wanted to talk to me :)))). You were my first friend on Tumblr and I appreciate that a lot. You’re really funny and stuff as well.

@blizzardfluffykpop Hi, Kate!!! I’m very glad secret valentine threw us together <33 You’re an awesome person and I love scrolling through your blog-it’s so interesting. You’re witty, and you have so much talent! Also, you’re very relatable, and I love your rambles (you can ramble more than me! that is an accomplishment unto itself). It’s really interesting to talk to you :)

@tolwenjun Hey Izzy~Again, I’m super glad you bothered to read my post and then come and talk to me. I’m really glad to have an Idol Producer friend and someone I could rant to throughout the show and now after, and now with all the other groups-you’re really a valuable friend. Also you have really good editing skills, I hope to someday compare :,).

@str4y-k1ds Austin!!!! HI. ajdkhalj I actually forgot why we started talking in the first place (it’s totallllly slipped my mind, I’m very sorry q.q) BUT you are a really great person. You have really good character traits (people better tell you that all the time) and you are an absolutely lovely person to talk to. It’s nice how we talk about the little things in life and just everything, really.

@chainbin (was @likem8stopprocrastinating until recently) ALLY. Hi my friend *waves*. You’re also a really funny person (t m) and really enjoyable to talk to. (Also you’re super duper pretty as well) You are a lot of fun and you have a great personality and I’m very glad to be the person responsible for getting you to stan (some) groups.

@straykidsthetype E! my freshman buddy I’m really glad to know you. You’re funny and a fellow fangirl, and perfect. I love screaming and keyboard slamming with you. (that sounds weird but idk what else to call it) It’s really relaxing and fun to talk to you, and it makes me smile :).

@emmaishere92 Emma~~~I can’t believe I wasn’t following you for so long, I swear we were mutuals at some point. Well, we are now, so it’s cool :). We haven’t been talking for long, but I really like talking to you. You’ve also made me become in love with the whale emoji <333 (my friends hate it) I really hope we can talk more and become closer and stuff!

@fantasymirror Ayesh! Hi, haha. We also haven’t talked that much, but I hope we can continue to talk and communicate. You seem down to earth and everything, and I like that. It’s nice to have a grounding friend, if that makes sense. Good luck working towards your goals!

I also have a lot of mutuals and blogs I really love (and some of you might be on the list of people I want to talk to eventually :P). Mutuals-you know who you are, other blogs-you probably don’t know who I am.

@min-ber ☁ @strayboys ☁ @seobangchan ☁ @lindzaylove ☁ @felegs ☁ @vai-should-be-quiet ☁ @fef65b-felix ☁ @kyeomhui ☁ @dowoonhtml ☁ @stk0t9 ☁ @straykids01 ☁ @busanjeongin ☁ @jisungssmile ☁ @seungminshoneyvocals ☁ @we-wanna-support-you ☁ @flxmes ☁ @theserendipityofjimin (snake) ☁ @becauseitsmystory ☁ @lxx-fxlix ☁ @hanniehats ☁ @skzlove ☁

Thank you so much to all my followers and everyone, I love you guys so much!!!!!! <33333

#milestone #500 followers #follow forever #my first one #eeeeeek #i love you guys so much this is literally amazing #i can't really believe it but i can #sorry for the weird tags #like i want to talk to people #but then i don't #idk it's weird #also gotta go scream #star rambles #word vomit everywhere ew #sorry for being weird #legit all the time #idk how to communicate #here goes nothing

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highdramas · 4 years ago

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it’s rotten work | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers, general talk about illness/stomach flu

word count: 1.7k!

summary: you have the stomach flu. bucky takes care of you. somewhere in there, love is confessed.

note: here’s another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don’t have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn’t like! just a heads up i wrote this SUPER quick and it is not proofread but the thought of bucky taking care of me when i’m sick....... ya i just had to write it

enjoy! <3

“doll?”

you’re not sure when you padded out to the living room. you’re not even sure how you managed to get the bowl to set next to you, in case your stomach turned again. and you’re really not sure how you even thought to put a few cubes of ice in the mug full of water that sits on the coffee table.

all you had known was your stomach was a pit of fire and your head was pounding and you are an absolute baby when it comes to feeling ill. and bucky is finally beginning to sleep through the night in the bed that you two share. he doesn’t need to be woken by your moaning and groaning.

apparently, you had drifted off into sleep at some point. and apparently, bucky had noticed. you shouldn’t say apparently as if it’s so shocking. bucky pays attention to just about everything when it comes to you. you’re sure that the second he reached his arm out and felt nothing but the sheets, he sprung from the mattress.

you’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness for you don’t know how long. it was nearly two in the morning when you wandered out of the bedroom, and as you scramble to grab your phone, it reads 3:07am back at you.

“doll, what’s goin’ on?” bucky sits on the edge of the couch and his hand goes to your bare thigh, rubbing your skin, and you note that he is shirtless.

“don’t feel good,” you mumble and cover your eyes with your forearm. “didn’t want to wake you up.” you pause and look at him. “you look so good. ‘s not fair.”

bucky scoffs and he pushes your arm away, placing his hand on your forehead. “jesus, you’re fucking burning.” you faintly feel his hand moving down the side of your face. “you should’ve gotten me.”

“didn’t want to wake you up,” you repeat and you finally open your eyes. he’s looking down at you with an incredulous smile, that somehow manages to mix irritation and adoration. “or get you sick.”

“i don’t care about that.” you’re sure with the serum he couldn’t even catch a cold. “one second.”

you begin to push yourself up, protests on your lips, but bucky shakes his head and gently pushes you back into the couch. “stop. let me take care of you.”

oh.

there’s something simple inim the words that stirs your stomach.

and you promptly grab the bowl and throw up into it.

bucky’s not gone long once he hears you. he has a hair tie on his wrist and various other items which he sets on the coffee table before he scrambles to pull your hair back. you’re hunched over with the bowl in your lap and a pout on your lips. you look at him and say, “i’m sorry, this is so not sexy.”

you throw up into the bowl once more.

despite tying your hair back, bucky keeps one hand tangled in it, the other rubbing circles on your back. “i always think you’re sexy.” cue a gag. “even now.”

you pull back and look at him with furrowed brows. “shut up.”

bucky grins and he wipes your mouth with a damp towel. you slacken slightly as he holds you, as he takes care of you. your mind is nothing but a fog, but at the center of it is bucky. bucky’s touch, bucky’s hold, bucky’s soft voice in your ear. “i think i fell in love with you the first time i saw you,” you begin to babble, your head falling to the side. whether it’s the fever or the exhaustion or a mix of both, you’ll never know. “when you asked to help build kitty’s tower.” you point to where it now lives in the corner of his apartment. “look at your handiwork. you did such a great job. how could i not fall in love with you?”

bucky stills. the two of you have passed many firsts. hell, you two live together for christ’s sake. however, there is one thing that has never passed either of your lips.

i love you.

you continue. “it’s so easy, too,” you say, your head lolling to the side. “to love you. you’re so hard on yourself, buck. but it’s easy as-- it’s easy as breathing.” you smile and it quickly dissipates as you feel your stomach twist again. “god, i’m so sorry you’re doing this.”

“don’t be,” he says, and his voice is husky.

you love him.

he should’ve guessed, right? because he is in perfect agreement with you. he has loved you since he has known you.

slowly, you lean your head on his shoulder and he holds you, setting the bowl down onto the ground beside you. “i feel like you’re not going to believe me,” you mumble. “how much i love you. you never believe me.”

“doll…”

“it’s true!” you pull back, and your eyes are glassy. you fall back onto the couch and you once again place your arm on your forehead. “i wish you could understand.”

“understand what?”

blue eyes lock onto yours. “how deserving you are of good things in the world.” you stretch your legs out across his lap.

you don’t give him much chance to respond before you’re pressing your hand to your forehead and groaning. bucky opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the words, before he shakes his head. not the time. “here,” he grabs the bottle of ibuprofen he’d found in the cabinet and the mug full of water you’d fetched for yourself when you initially stumbled out into the living room. “let me help you. can you sit up?”

nodding, you push yourself up again. he taps your chin lightly, and you open your mouth. he places two pills onto your tongue and he holds the back of your head, handing you the water. a shaky hand takes it and you tip your head back, downing nearly the entire glass. “thank you,” you look at him. “you don’t have to do this. i would’ve been fine.”

“didn’t you just say something about being deserving of good things?” bucky studies you. “that applies to you, too.”

“i didn’t realize puking all over my boyfriend was a good thing.”

he rolls his eyes and you laugh. even when you feel like shit, you’re laughing, bucky notes. it’ll never be lost on him how lucky he is to get a front row seat to that laugh every single day. the two of you sit in quiet for a long time. he gets another damp rag and puts it on your forehead. he sits on the opposite side of the couch and he runs his fingers up and down your legs, making smoothing circles.

when you open your eyes again, sunlight is beginning to stream in through the windows.

bucky is still sitting in the same position, but now, he’s watching the tv, and he seems to have found a t shirt. no sound omits from the tv, but you watch as his eyes take in the subtitles at the bottom of the screen. as you begin to stir, his head snaps to look at you. “hey.”

you rub your eyes, and you’re already feeling a hell of a lot better than you did last night. “what time is it?”

“almost noon.”

bucky has clearly done some cleaning. the bowl from last night is gone and replaced with a new one, clean and empty beside you. there’s a new glass of water on a coaster next to you, as well as more medicine and some saltine crackers. you rub at your neck, trying to recall the events of last night. the things you said.

how could i not fall in love with you?

your heart plummets. you fix your eyes on him and he sits up a little bit straighter. “are you feeling alright?”

“oh my god,” you breathe, and you cover your face with your hands. “i’m so sorry.”

bucky pulls your hands away, scooting closer to you. “doll, no. don’t be sorry--”

“no, i am!” you press your hand to your cheek. “i throw up all over you, probably sweated all over you-- like, ew! and then, i incoherently mumble about how much i love you?! buck, that’s not the way that i wanted to tell you. not at all.” frustrated tears begin to rear their ugly head. “i’m sorry,” your apology is not more than a whisper.

bucky doesn’t seem to mind any of that, though. “you remember?”

“of course i remember!” you fall back and bucky takes your hand.

“doll…” bucky looks at you. “doll, c’mere.”

stubborn as ever, you stay where you’re at, embarrassment written all over your face. his hands pull you up and finally, you look at his eyes. “i’ve loved you since that night, too.” his words are soft, almost nervous, though you could never understand why. “i thought that maybe you were just… you know, when you’re feverish, you can say crazy things. i didn’t want to--”

you can’t help it, a laugh breaks free from your lips. “that is so like you,” your words are laced with fondness. “i confess my love to you, and you think it’s the fever talking.”

his cheeks go pink. you lick your lips and you hold his face in your hands. “i meant it.” you nod your head, biting down on your lip. “i meant all of it.”

it’s as if you can see the physical weight that lifts from bucky’s shoulders. he breathes a bit lighter, his smile is a bit easier. “i love you,” you insist. “forever, buck.”

bucky’s hand goes back to that spot on the back of your neck, pushing past the tangled knot that your hair has turned into. “i love you,” he says, and he leans in.

his lips barely brush yours before you scoot back, shaking your head. “no, no.” you laugh and move to stand up. “you had to see me throw up everywhere, i’m not going to make you kiss me with vomit breath.”

bucky grabs your hand, holds your face in those tender hands of his, and he presses his lips against yours. the kiss is slow, and it is sweet. when he pulls back, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “i’ve seen a lot of bad shit, sweetheart,” he pecks your lips again. “i’m not scared of a little puke.”

you fall in love with him over and over and over again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #the world's a little blurry #my writing

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drarrypotterrenaissance · 2 years ago

Text

If Your Heart Causes You to Sin, Tear It Out

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 3,214

Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Red String of Fate, Inspired by Art, Draco Malfoy Redemption

Draco’s red string of fate hasn’t always been red. But sometimes, your bad choices don’t have to trap you forever.

This fic was inspired by art from the ever-amazing @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm - please go check out his work, and make sure you take time to look at this piece and this piece especially - they're the inspiration for this fic!

A huge thank you also goes out to @wecanthavenicethingx for being the most wonderful beta and such a great cheerleader! 💜

Read on ao3

July, 1996

The red string around Draco’s wrist burned, although that could have just been his imagination. A figment of relief when he needed it most, kneeling before the Dark Lord and bracing himself for the pain of a brand, the idea that his soulmate was somewhere out there to comfort him. His father had said it would hurt, but Draco must not cry out, he must be strong and composed when the Dark Lord marked him.

That was the worst part of all, Draco thought. The expectation of pain was always far worse than the reality of it, or at least it had been that way in his somewhat limited experience. He had worried the red string raw around his wrist over that expectation, and all the other ones placed upon him.

The Dark Mark burned as it was etched into his arm, the Dark Lord laughed, Draco tasted blood as he bit his tongue to keep from screaming, and the string around his wrist went cold.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at his arm when he was stood up and presented to the other Death Eaters, he could only breathe and try not to vomit and look like he was pleased and proud. Later that night, though, alone in his room, he rolled back his sleeve to see angry red surrounding a stark black skull and snake, and then burst into tears. His string had turned black.

May, 1998

Draco couldn’t breathe. There was too much ash and smoke and guilt and grief in his lungs that he didn’t think he’d ever be able to breathe again. He had crawled away from the tapestry in front of the Room of Hidden Things, sick to his stomach with that room, and those flames, and Vince, and now he was huddled in an alcove, gasping for breath that wouldn’t come, wracked with screaming sobs for everything he could imagine. His friend was dead, his parents could be next, he constantly lived in fear. He had utterly destroyed his soul by taking the mark of a madman two years ago, and yet he still twisted the black string around his wrist, slipping his fingers underneath in a poor facsimile of being held by a soulmate who didn’t exist. He didn’t know how long he sat there, hyperventilating into the cold stone wall, until suddenly, his string burned hot as fire for the first time since he had taken the Mark. He looked down just in time for it to shock him with a flash of cold before he watched it crumble away into nothing.

Draco had cried when his string turned black, he had even been crying moments before, but at the sight of his bare wrist, Draco’s tears stopped. He was consumed with a terror so complete that he could only freeze as it washed every other feeling from him, and then left as quickly as the fear had come, turning his body over to apathy.

He was beyond redemption, cut off and made entirely separate from the rest of the world; he was no longer a part of anything. He had no choices left to make, so he went to find his parents.

The battle was horrible. Curses flew through the air, screams echoed around the courtyard, and the smell of blood and death permeated everywhere. Despite that, Draco walked through it, numb to everything and disconnected from everyone who wasn’t his family. He found his mother, emerging from the Forest, together they found his father, and he stayed with them, between them, in a horrible, battle-smeared parody of all the family paintings they had ever sat for.

No one said anything, and Draco, now numb to pain, didn’t cry out when his wrist throbbed red-hot. He just watched as Harry Potter came back to life and killed the Dark Lord.

Afterwards, Draco still felt numb, but another feeling was beating against his ribcage like a bird fluttering against a window. After a week in a holding cell, a month and a half of house arrest, and halfway through his trial, Draco realized it was hope. He twisted the new red string around his wrist the entire time.

July 31st, 1998

Draco’s trial technically took place on July 30th. But being sentenced to house arrest for the summer took time, and receiving a term of probation took even more time after that. Then, waiting for his mother to receive the same sentence and for his father to be sent to Azkaban for life took a small eternity, and by the time the paperwork was processed and their wands were returned, it was early in the morning on July 31st. Draco had just been handed his wand when he felt a tug on his wrist and turned around to see, for the first time ever, his string extending all the way to the floor, snaking across the atrium. Somewhat frantically, he followed its path with his eyes, right to Harry Potter’s wrist.

The numb feeling he had known for the summer abandoned him immediately at the sight of his soulmate, and the fear it had replaced rushed right back in. He couldn’t be seen, not by Potter, not now that they were both 18 and could see who they were bound to for life. Not Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Saviour, the war hero, not when Draco was the acquitted Death Eater, the Slytherin, the boy who betrayed his classmates and let killers into their school. Draco turned to his mother, fully aware of the cracks showing through his carefully-kept composure of the last three months, and pleaded with her silently to go, to leave, now.

Thankfully, his mother understood, if not the reason behind it at least her son’s desperation, and she swept them from the hall, towards the line of Floos and away to the Manor.

August 27th, 1998

The first month of Draco’s parole crawled by in grueling days spent scrubbing every trace of blood and dark magic from the Manor and exhausted nights attempting to heal his fingers, now raw from scrubbing, before collapsing into fitful sleep. It wasn’t pleasant, not at all, but Draco pushed through anyway, determined to restore, or at least improve, his family’s ruined reputation. The aurors that rotated through the daily, then weekly, checks of Malfoy Manor couldn’t find anything to fault, and although he was still treated with scorn at least he wasn’t being further punished for blindly following his parents’ poor choices.

By the last Thursday in August, Draco had completely emptied out the Front Hall, the sitting room and parlor closest to the doors, and the second dining room. They were bereft of furniture and anything that might make them feel even remotely lived in, but they were also completely clear of dark artifacts, grime, and scars from stray Crucios and hexes. Draco was almost proud to open the door to admit the aurors coming for their weekly inspection, despite the lingering resentment he was trying to quash for the contempt they showed him. Draco was proud when Chet (and honestly, what sort of a name was Chet, anyway?) looked around and gave a small, approving nod.

Draco was not proud at all when the door opened again a few minutes later and Potter burst into the empty sitting room.

He looked just as scruffy and disheveled as always, as if he hadn’t spent the past month being praised by every tongue in Britain as the ‘hero of the wizarding world’. His hair was its typical bird’s nest, just barely wrangled into a knot at the base of his neck, he had a small scruff of stubble around his jaw, and his baggy, ill-fitting jeans had a tear over one of the knees. In short, he looked more like a damsel in distress than any sort of hero, and a small voice in the back of Draco’s brain laughed at the irony of that, considering the amount of distress that Potter’s sudden appearance was now causing him.

“Mr. Potter, sir, is everything alright?” Chet asked, somehow unaware of the world splintering around him. Draco’s universe had already shattered, but he watched it happen again, to Harry this time, as Potter’s eyes went to Chet’s wrist, clearly expecting to find the other end of his string, only to grow wide and follow the looping trail on the floor connecting his wrist with Draco’s. Potter went pale and then red in such quick succession it was a miracle he remained conscious, and then fled the room without saying a word.

The rest of Draco’s parole visit was unpleasant, to say the least. Not only had he been left to deal with the sticky, choking remains of Potter’s rejection, but he was forced to endure Chet’s suspicious interrogation, as he was sure there must be some dark remnant in Draco’s home, or in Draco himself, that had drawn the attention of the Saviour.

For the next week, Draco tried everything he could think of to push Harry’s rejection from his mind. It shouldn’t hurt, he tried to tell himself, because he couldn’t have ever expected any other outcome. There was no world in which Potter could want him, not in any way and certainly not like this, so he shouldn’t be so affected by what was always the only possible conclusion. It did hurt, though, to be rejected by his soulmate, and so he spent an entire day in bed, crying until his eyes stung and his body felt wrung out. When crying didn’t help, he spent the next day attacking the cellars, and then the formal dining room, and then the guest suite in the west wing where Voldemort stayed, and by Tuesday evening he had purged so much evil from the house he thought it could be mistaken for a muggle dwelling at this point. He even summoned people from the Ministry three times to remove the piles of cursed artifacts that he couldn’t Vanish or cleanse on his own. It still didn’t help.

On Wednesday night, after a day spent cleaning the kitchens, he could no longer push Potter from his mind with hard work, and broke down in tears during his fifth failed attempt to write him a letter.

Dear Potter,

I am sorry that I am your soulmate. I

Dear Potter,

It’s not my fault that fate assigned me to you

Potter,

Do you think I want to be your soulmate? This certainly wasn’t

Dear Harry,

Please accept my apologies for

Harry,

You’re my soulmate and I just wanted

I’m sorry. For all of it.

~D.M.

When he finally sends the sixth note, he doesn’t get a response.

June 8th, 1999

Flourish and Blotts was packed, despite the fact that it was ten-thirty in the morning on a Tuesday. Draco had specifically waited until mid-morning on the Tuesday after his birthday to buy himself a birthday present without all of the wizarding world surrounding him. Yet there were wixen crammed between all the bookshelves, making Draco consider just leaving and trying again some other day. Things had certainly gotten better over the last year, and Draco hardly received any Howlers or cursed packages anymore. He could go out in public and endure nothing worse than the occasional glare and some parents whisking their children away to the other side of the street as he passed by. It wasn’t a comfortable thing, to still carry the weight of mistakes he had made, but he was learning to live with it, and thought, all things considered, that it probably could have been a lot worse. He still didn’t like being out in crowds though. It was too easy for someone to hex him covertly, or to shove into him, or-

“Ouch!”

“I’m so sorry, truly, I’m sorry! Are you...” ‘alright’ trailed off of Draco’s sentence when he realized that he had just trod on the foot of none other than Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived (Twice), The Saviour of the Wizarding World; his soulmate.

Potter just blinked at him. He looked a lot more put-together than the last time Draco had seen him in person, although he wasn’t surprised. At least once a week The Prophet or some other gossip rag would publish a picture of Potter saving a kneazel, or kissing a baby, or hugging the girl Weasley (who Draco had heard he was not dating anymore, thank you very much, but who Witch Weekly still insisted would be getting a ring any day now). In all of those pictures, Potter had been clean shaven and dressed in clothing without any holes, just as he was now. However, in all those pictures, at least for the ones published over the last few months, Potter had also looked happy, which he most assuredly did not right now.

“Potter,” Draco said, trying valiantly to keep his voice steady, “I truly am sorry.” Draco mostly meant that he was sorry for bumping into him, but also, at least a little bit, he was sorry that Harry was stuck with an ex-Death Eater as a soulmate. Sorry that he had inadvertently been responsible for the death of so many people Harry loved, sorry that he had been such a terror at school; he was even sorry that Harry hadn’t responded to his letter and had to endure reading a note from him in the first place.

“Do you mean that?” Harry asked, and Draco would have staked everything he owned on the notion that Harry wasn’t talking about Draco running into him, but rather for everything Draco was ashamed of and hurt over every single day.

“I do.” Draco had never been more earnest in his life.

“Okay. Good,” Potter said, and walked away without another word. Draco thoughtlessly tugged at the string around his wrist, but Potter didn’t turn back.

June 11th, 1999

Malfoy,

I looked into your record, and I spoke to your parole officer. I also looked into the charitable donations that you have made over the past year, the community service, and the artifacts that you have surrendered. The DMLE officers shouldn’t have given you a hard time about those, I hope St. Mungo’s fixed you up as well as their records said they did.

If you’re actually less of a git now, and you’d like to meet for coffee sometime, I’m free most days.

~HP

Potter,

Thank you for your letter. I have been trying very hard to atone for my mistakes and apologize to the people I have hurt. While the donations and the community service have been part of that (and how did you know about that, those donations were anonymous and the community service was in the muggle world under a false name, you shouldn’t have been able to find any of those records!), I also want to help those who I previously hurt. I know I can never erase the things I was a part of, but I truly want to make amends and repair what damage I can.

I am also sorry for all the hurt I have personally caused you. I am trying to be, as you say, “less of a git now,” and I would be pleased to get coffee with you any time. How does this Tuesday at 2 sound?

~Draco

~D.M.

April 14th, 2000

“…after it made me climb up a bloody tree!” Draco laughed. He had been flying a lot over those first few weeks. He had spent so long scouring the Manor every day at the start of his house arrest that he had started to feel the effects of being surrounded by dark magic, like he had during that awful summer before seventh year. The only cure for it was to go flying each evening until the rush of air had pushed the evil from his lungs, and he could collapse into bed at night exhausted, but ready to tackle the next things the house threw his way.

“You know, Harry,” Hermione started, barely holding back her own laughter, “when I suggested following your string to try finding your soulmate, I didn’t mean that quite so literally! You could have simply waited until the string was back on the ground!”

“Well, how was I to know that he had just gone flying?” Harry protested.

Draco laughed again. “Did you think your soulmate was a dragon? Or a cloud, perhaps? What on earth could I have been doing that would have precluded me ever returning to the ground?”

Harry sunk lower into the sofa, his face redder than the upholstery. Around him, assorted Weasleys laughed, and George actually had tears in his eyes.

“I don’t know!” Harry said, “I just wanted to find you!”

“Oh yes, of course,” Draco returned, “You wanted to find me so badly that you walked out without speaking to me the moment that you did.” He rolled his eyes fondly.

“You’ve got to admit, mate, even for you that’s handling things poorly,” Ron said, grinning at Harry.

“I wasn’t the one who thought that the best way to deal with the trauma I had been through was to go and find a boyfriend!” Harry protested.

“What I actually suggested was focusing on something nice, like finding your soulmate, so that you could have someone to heal with. In addition to the Mind Healer I also suggested that you find, by the way.” Hermione looked slightly peevish, and Draco suspected that they had had this discussion at least a few times before.

“I did eventually,” said Harry, squeezing Draco’s hand. “He just had to become less of a git first.”

“Are we sure he actually is? I mean, he hasn’t cursed any of us yet, but it could only be a matter of time. I’m still more than willing to hex him, if need be,” Ginny offered, in what Draco personally thought was an altogether too cheery tone.

“While tearing out one’s heart and growing a new one does take time, I should hope that mine is mostly intact by this point,” Draco said faux-archly.

“Yes, yes, you’re a reformed sinner, a model citizen, an ornament to society, etcetera etcetera and we’re all very glad to have you here. Now come help me figure out why the Scorching Slingshots I’ve been testing out have such a delayed fireball reaction.”

Draco looked skyward for a moment, but then got up to follow George out to the lawn. He had only taken a few steps however, when the string around his wrist gave such a sharp tug that he stumbled backwards onto the couch again, right into a grinning Harry’s lap.

“And what might you want?” he asked, trying to appear at least somewhat composed.

Harry said nothing, just drew Draco in and kissed him until the catcalls and jeers from the assembled Weasleys grew too loud to ignore. And despite his flushing cheeks and the embarrassment coursing through him as Charlie called out, “Get a room!” Draco had never been happier for how things had turned out. After all, souls, it seemed, were like hearts. You could lose yours entirely, only for a better one to grow in its place, as long as you were willing to put the work in.

#drarry #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fanfic #my fic #my writing #inspired by art #if your heart causes you to sin tear it out

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kikikittykis · 4 years ago

Text

Request are opening

x readers are open for

Kirishima Eijirou

Tenya Iida

Izuku Midoriya

Shoto Todoroki

Denki Kaminari

Hitoshi Shinsou

Jack Kline

Jackson Jekyll/ Holt Hyde

Scott Mccall

Stiles Stilinski

Masterlist

Askbox

just drop an ask in my askbox with the category and the number

I only take female or gender neutral readers

Sentence Starters:

“I can’t do anything right.”

“Please don’t cry.”

“Why are you awake right now?”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“Wake up! Please wake up.”

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.”

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

Done M.B/M.W“Is that blood?” “…..No?”

“Please don’t lie to me again, I can’t take it.”

“Do you even still love me?”

“Nobody’s seen you in days.”

“Why are you awake?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Can you shut up for once in your life?”

Done D.W “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.”

Done D.W “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

“Leave! Me! Alone!”

FLUFF

“Go with me?” “As long as you hold my hand.”

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”

“Have you seen my hoodie?” “Nooo.” “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

“Have you always been this beautiful?”

Done T.I “OH you’re jealous!”

“Can we stay like this forever?”

“Please just kiss me already.”

Done T.I “I think you might be my soulmate.”

“Sleep over? Please?”

“Are we on a date right now?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“He’s so pretty I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Done S.T “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I missed you so much.”

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”

“I’m here for you.”

“I wish we could live together already.”

MISC

Done S.S “All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.”

“Quit touching me, your feet are cold!”

“I think I just ripped my pants.”

“Sharing is caring, now give me the hoodie!”

“Can I pet your dog?” “Do I know you?”

“Did you seriously just get your foot stuck in a toilet?” “Maybe.”

“If I die, I’m haunting you first.”

“But I’ve never told you that before.”

“Stop being grumpy, it’s lame.”

“So, uh, I locked the keys in the car.”

“Is the cat in a onesie?” “Uh, no?

“Can we please stop running? I think I’m dying.”

“You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be working?”

“Give me attention.”

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!”

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t see that coming.”

“I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Prompts:

“how much did you drink?”

“aw, you’re so cute.”

“what did you do?”

“i asked if you were having a party. i didn’t tell you to have a party.”

“this is the opposite of what i told you to do.”

“well, it’s the thought that counts.”

“wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.”

“okay, where are all my jumpers?”

“oh, you’ve started stealing my socks now?”

“yeah, okay, but i’m cooler.”

“you owe me a kiss.”

“how did you get in here?”

“for starters, that’s impossible.”

“how did you fail a survey?”

“yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe i would.”

“that’s not even fair.”

“you promised me a cookie!”

“did i ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

“ew, that is so sappy, i might vomit.”

“i’m not playing truth or dare.”

“you’re not very intimidating.”

“i love you.”

“well the probability of that is 0, but you go ahead.”

“that was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

“why don’t you take a picture? it’ll last longer.”

“maybe not.”

“why the hell is there glitter everywhere?”

“well, i’m pretty irresistible.”

“how much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?”

“detention? again?” R.T Done

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years ago

Text

Logan's Birthday (1/7)

-------------------------

Logan was a smart man, he always had been, top of his class since he was little. But being smart only got you so far, there always came a time when you just werent smart enough.

For Logan, that time was adulthood. So many years worth of studying, gone at the slightest notion that someone else was- better. And of course, Logan knew exactly what made his competitors better, but saying it out loud, that was paramount to insulting the company.

So here he was, twenty-two years of age and stuck in an apartment, sifting through job applications and bills, as if he'd ever have enough to pay them off.

"Oh yes Logan go on take only honors and AP classes for the rest of your life, I'm sure it'll all turn out fine," Logan muttered bitterly.

He let out a groan of annoyance as the tv flickered through one of his least favorite commercials.

He'd always despised fashion and makeup companies, but the Kingsley company was another story on it's own. He couldnt explain it, for all he knew it was some odd combination of self hatred and toxic societal expectations, he just couldn't stand those twins, with their overly wide smiles and stupid overzealous compliments. But of course, most other people bought it. So Logan always assumed there was something wrong with him.

Eventually Logan finished with the papers, setting them aside and walking to the kitchen.

"Like anyone would pay thirty bucks for a makeup set that's going to fall apart two days afterward," Logan muttered, glaring at the tv. He walked over to the coffee machine and got started on his fourth cup for that day. It wasnt healthy, Logan knew that, he'd done an entire report on it in sixth grade, but it was the only way he could seem to stay up without having a breakdown.

Logan looked over at his to-do list for that day, he never seemed to finish them, so he had no idea why he bothered. He checked off the section labelled "bills and applications" before walking back to the coffee machine and picking up the mug. He watched the sunrise outside the window, he always liked sunrises more in the colder months, they were much brighter.

Logan finished his coffee and set the cup in the sink, checking his watch. His mother had set up a job interview for him, but all she'd given him was an address and a time, he certainly didnt want to be late. He walked to his closet and pulled out a blue sweater, black vest, black pants, and dress shoes.

"5629, Ridgeport Avenue, should be interesting," Logan muttered as he fixed his tie. He'd never exactly liked Ridgeport, it was a rich people and idiots thinking they could make it big on stupid ideas.

But what awaited Logan when he reached the location was far worse than what he was expecting.

"Mother I told you I dont want anything to do with this company!" Logan hissed over the phone, currently hiding out in the bathroom, he may have hated the Kingsley company, but he wasmt stupid enough to insult them where someone might hear.

"Its good pay! You can suck up your pride for once in your life cant you?" His mother replied.

"Me, a secretary for those- those-" Logan couldnt seem to find the right words for it, all he cod think was 'Ew' and 'Not in a million years'.

"I'll call you back after the interview," Logan said, hanging up and stuffing the phone back in his pocket. He fixed his hair in the mirror before rushing back out, after all, he did have a meeting in thirty minutes.

"Logan Sanders," The intercom sounded, the voice of Remus Kingsley flooded the room. Logan felt his stomach lurch as he stood up. He trudged down the hall, fiddling with his tie. He finally reached the door to Remus' office, and knocked twice.

"I'm not naked if that's what you're thinking," Logan held back the urge to vomit as he processed the sentence, and then he opened the door.

Remus Kingsley was a tall man, with a white striped birthmark in his hair, and a mustache that gave him the impression of a man who'd gorged himself on mud. His clothes didnt help much, a ripped jacket paired with a green shirt and twice as torn black jeans, his feet were even propped up on the desk for gods sakes.

"I'm here for the secretary position," Logan said as he closed the door.

"Well secretaries arent supposed to stand are they?" Remus said, moving his feet and gesturing toward the chair in front of the desk. Logan took a seat and finally let go of his tie.

"So what sparked your interest in the position?" Remus said, very obviously reading off notecards.

Logan bit back the urge to say 'brute force and a ransom note'.

"I've seen a lot of your commercials, the name was recognizable," Logan said.

"Oh so you've heard of us?" Remus said, now checking his nails. Logan was getting more annoyed by the minute.

"Yes, I have," Logan replied, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from growling.

"Great! You're hired! You can start tomorrow," Remus said with a grin, Logan noticed he was missing one of his front teeth. He slid a sheet of paper across the desk, Logan looked it over and pocketed it before getting up.

"Very well, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow," Logan said as he walked out.

"I could get used to seeing that face every day," Remus said, Logan felt his face heat up slightly, though he could scarcely tell if it was from rage, or from something else. He merely nodded and closed the door behind him on his way out, rushing through the lobby and out into the streets of Ridgeport.

"This is it- my life is over, this is how I die," Logan had decided to meet up for coffee with his friend Remy, and the conversation had turned very quickly to Remus' comment at the end of the meeting.

"I mean it could be worse, at least you're both in the same age-range," Remy replied, taking a sip from his iced coffee.

"I dont know how you're drinking that when its 27 degrees out," Logan said with a laugh.

"Nothing will ever be as cold as my heart," Remy said, grinning.

"Oh? Cold-hearted are we? Then please, do tell me where all those photos of Emile huddled up under your arm with his head buried in your chest came from,"Logan said sarcastically.

"Oh Em, the only person warm enough to melt my poor icy cold heart," Remy said, bringing a hand to his forehead and falling back slightly.

"Gods you're so cheesy," Logan said, rolling his eyes.

"You're just mad because you dont have a queerplatonic partner to give you forehead kisses every night before you go to sleep," Remy said.

"I dont need a partner of any kind, I'm fine on my own," Logan replied.

"Sure you are bud, sure you are," Remy said.

And that stuck with Logan the rest of the week. He had a lot more interactions with Remus than he'd expected to, sometimes they felt- planned. But Logan could swear up and down he was imagining things, there was no way someone as influential, nor as self-absorbed, as a Kingsley would've spared him a second glance.

And he carried this thought process with him, that is, until he found a letter on his desk. A letter, inviting him to the company Christmas party, from Remus.

"Did you get my letter?" Remus leaned on Logan's desk, that same grin he always wore plastered on his face.

"Yes, though I dont think you specified the office you want it delivered to?" Logan replied.

"Oh! My bad, I think it was right abooouuuuttt- here," Remus pressed a finger to Logan's nose, Logan tensed slightly, his cheeks flushed red.

"You turn a very pretty red when you're nervous," Remus purred, resting his head on his arms, which were now crossed over Logan's desk wall.

"I-" Logan wasnt sure what to say, here was all the evidence, right in front of his face, and yet he still didnt dare believe it.

And he didnt believe it, not until the day of the Christmas party, where he arrived in a limousine, hand in hand with the man, to a cruise ship of all places, wearing, for the first time in his life, a stunning midnight blue dress, that made him feel like he was worth a glance.

Though of course, no amount of party dresses could top that which he wore on his wedding night, a floor length gown of Remus' own design, studded with pearls and sequins, reflecting blue lights everywhere he walked.

"Remember how I said I wouldnt mind seeing a face like yours every day?" Remus said, smiling as he moved Logan's veil.

"Well, you wont have to worry about that now, will you?" Logan said, smiling, and he relished in the kiss that Remus placed on his lips, Remus' arm pulling Logan closer and closer by the waist, until the space between them was so thin that they were almost attached.

----------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@thefivecalls

@willowaudreykeyes

@pricklyfish777

@the-sad-strawberry

@private-snippers

@extercs-experiences

@theonetruebeepboop

@mycatshuman

@teamplutoforlife

@melodiread

@meowthefluffy

@frawkeye

@cemmy

@nerosdayinhell

@thecolorfulolive

@frog-candy-bee

#cori writes #long post #birthday fics #intrulogical #romantic intrulogical #remile #queerplatonic remile #ts logan #ts remus #ts roman #ts remy #ts emile

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 4 years ago

Text

Whumptober 13: Breathe in Breathe Out

Choking

Did someone say hurt the monkey boy? What? No? Oh, too late :)

Summary: MK is captured by the Spider Queen.

Trigger Warnings: spiders, dehumanization, pet whump, choking and strangulation, panic attacks, physical and psychological torture, near death experiences, mild self harm

3596 words

MK curled in on himself, trying to block out the cold.

Fuck, it was so cold.

And… damp?

What was going on? He didn’t remember what had happened, or how he’d gotten here. He’d only woken up just now, tied up in the dark. His eyes had yet to adjust.

He shivered, jerking at the ropes that bound his hands behind his back. They didn’t budge.

It was definitely very bad that he couldn’t remember what had happened. He was pretty sure he remembered saving Pigsy and Tang from — ick — spiders (or like, a spider demon lady or whatever). Same difference. He shuddered. He absolutely hated spiders.

But on the bright side, they’d all gotten out of there, no problem!

Er… actually, considering that was the last thing he could remember, he wasn’t so sure if that was true. Where was he?

“Hello?” he called, cringing when his voice echoed loudly through the… wherever he was. Well, if anyone was here, they could definitely hear him.

Hopefully it was just Red Son or something. That guy was a loser, he’d be easy to defeat. Plus, MK had no doubt that his team was working on getting him out of here right this very moment.

Oh fuck, he hoped Pigsy wasn’t pissed at him for missing work again.

In his defense, this wasn’t his fault! Pigsy would probably understand. And if he didn’t, well, he had everyone else to vouch for him. Probably.

“Is anyone here?” he asked, the only response being his own voice echoing back at him.

Ugh, apparently he was alone down here — wait. He could hear something. Footsteps? No, it sounded different than that. Kind of like…

“Hush up now, little monkey.”

He looked around wildly, frustrated that he still couldn’t see anything. The sight of truth that the staff gave him would really come in handy right about now. Come to think of it, where was his staff?

The voice, which was previously kind of far away probably, was suddenly very, very close. “Can’t have you screaming, now can we?”

Oh fuck, he was just now remembering where he recognized this voice from. Oh no, was he back in the nightmare hole? Oh no, were there still all the creepy crawly spiders everywhere? Nope nope nope, he was absolutely not thinking about that right now. Ew… The absolute last thing he wanted in life was to be in a place that was absolutely crawling with… those.

“Untie me!” he said, struggling fiercely. Wait, if this was the Spider Queen and her nightmare hole, then…

Nope nope nope nope, he was suddenly very thankful that he couldn’t see much of anything. If he couldn’t see, then he couldn’t confirm whether or not he was actually tied with — ick — spiderwebs. He wanted to cry just thinking about it.

Why couldn’t she just use some good old fashioned rope? There was nothing wrong with rope! He would even be fine with chains, even if they pinched his skin! Just… anything but spiderwebs.

The Spider Queen laughed, the sound reverberating through the cave. MK really could do without this stupid echo. “Untie you? Oh, honey, where would be the fun in that?”

Well, that wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. He wasn’t surprised, but still, it would have been nice if maybe for once—

“See, I was planning on eating you,” she said.

Eating him? Oh shit, oh shit, he’d forgotten about that in the midst of his earlier battle. Oh god, he didn’t want to be eaten! He was too young to die!

“You don’t need to eat me!” MK said hastily. “I mean, I bet I’d taste terrible! I would be totally disgusting! You don’t need a teenage boy who eats nothing but noodles! If you’re gonna eat somebody, at least eat someone who’s healthy!”

“I said was,” the Spider Queen said, cutting off his rambling. “But I’ve changed my mind.”

“You… have?” Oh, thank god. Being eaten sounded like one of the worst possible ways to go. He’d rather die. …Okay, that wasn’t a good comparison. Still, the point remained. He had officially found one thing worse than spiders. Being fucking eaten.

But spiders were still a very close second.

“Course I have,” she said. MK’s eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness, and he could now just make out her wicked smile. “I have a feeling you’re going to be so much more useful than just a light snack.”

MK shuddered at the idea. Thank god she’d changed her mind. Wait… why had she changed her mind? And worse, what exactly was she planning to use him for? He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“I think the obvious solution here is to just let me go,” MK said, laughing nervously. “I mean, why keep me around if you’re not gonna eat me, right? And as we’ve already established, you’re definitely not doing that. Please don’t change your mind again.” He really needed to stop talking before he changed her mind for her.

She laughed again, but said nothing. MK, as best he could, squirmed uncomfortably in the following silence. He hated not being able to move his hands.

The Spider Queen hummed, observing MK carefully. She took his face in her cold hands, turning it side to side.

MK jerked his head free of her grip, glaring at her. “Unhand me!” he said, hoping he sounded confident and not, you know, completely terrified.

“I think we need a rundown on how this is going to work,” the Spider Queen said, standing up to her full height again. MK gulped, looking up at her in terror. Don’t focus on the spider thing don’t focus on the spider thing don’t focus on the spider thing.

He was fine. This was fine. It was all totally and completely fine. Everything was good!

“It would just be so much easier for the both of us if you would cooperate,” she continued, “You think you can be obedient, little monkey?”

MK wrinkled his nose at the wording she’d chosen. Obedient? Hell no! “I told you before,” he said, “I am a monkey man!” with that, he attempted to break free of his bindings heroically so he could then pummel her.

Which, theoretically, would have been great. If it had worked. Instead, he was stuck struggling in the ropes, wriggling around on the ground like a worm.

Well. This was going great.

“You are adorable,” the Spider Queen said, amused. “Yes, I think I can make this work quite nicely.”

MK was too busy looking and feeling like a fool to really pay attention to that. He could worry about it later, it was fine. For now, he needed to break out of this.

She looked down at him, and MK only struggled harder, if only to shake away the discomfort of being watched like that.

“You really are a little monkey,” she chuckled after a moment.

“Stop calling me that,” MK grumbled. He could feel it, he was almost free! Maybe, if he just kept stalling, he could take her by surprise.

She reached down, hoisting him back up so he was sitting upright again.

“Hey!” he cried, more offended than anything. “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to get a good look at my new pet.”

Oh, okay — come again now? What had she just called him? Oh god, and the way she’d said it — he wanted to vomit. He was pretty sure he could actually feel a bit of bile rising in his throat.

MK laughed uncomfortably. “Your new what now?” he squeaked. Dammit, that was supposed to come out sounding… well, definitely not sounding like he was a scared little baby. Which, he definitely wasn’t.

“Powerful little monkeys like yourself don’t need to be out leveling cities,” Spider Queen said, casual. MK waited for her to continue explaining, but she didn’t. Okay, that didn’t clear up his concern at all. In fact, it probably only elevated it.

“Okay, first off, I know the whole “Monkie Kid” title thing can be confusing, but I’m definitely a human. Like, completely a human. Not an actual monkey.” Plus, he hadn’t been out leveling cities, he’d been out stopping people like DBK from leveling cities.

All he got in response was a smug, “We’ll see about that.”

With that, she undid his headband, his hair awkwardly flopping into his face in its absence.

“Hey! Do you know how long it takes to get my hair to look good—?” he was forced to cut off as the headband was retied, rather tightly, around his neck. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice becoming slightly raspy as his airway was getting cut off. “What are you — no — st-stop!” He gasped, and though his hands were tied behind him, he still tried to lift them so he could clutch at his neck desperately. He made no progress, and the band only tightened. He couldn’t take in enough breath to do more than make the tiniest of sounds.

The Spider Queen didn’t relent, pulling it so tight and cutting off MK’s air so quick that suddenly his vision was swimming with black specks and his head was going fuzzy like TV static.

He struggled to the best of his ability, using the last of his energy to get her to stop. Still, it wasn’t enough, and his eyes slipped shut. The world was darkness, a galaxy of nonexistent stars.

Finally, mercifully, just as he was sure he was going to die, it came to a halt.

He fell forward, unable to catch himself with his hands tied as they were, but grateful for the ability to breathe all the same.

He took in gulp after gulp of air, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. For a minute there he’d been so sure that it would be his last.

And then the Spider Queen said something that MK couldn’t even attempt to comprehend, and suddenly the feeling was back.

His neck was being absolutely crushed — but she wasn’t touching him anymore. How… why… stop…

Just like the first time, it went away right as all hope seemed lost. This time, the feeling didn’t come back, and MK was able to frantically take in as much air as his lungs allowed.

“What…” MK panted when he could finally breathe again, “What did you do?”

“Well, every pet needs a collar,” was all she responded with.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, “I already said, I’m… I’m…” oh man, he was way too lightheaded to be arguing right now. For a moment, he could only focus on taking breath after breath.

“Now,” she said, plucking at his hair and standing upright again. “I’ll take that, and…” she dropped it into a cauldron which definitely hadn’t been there before. Had it been? He couldn’t remember. Was he losing his mind? “You, my adorable little monkey, are going to help me reclaim my empire.”

And then, as if the lack of oxygen in his brain wasn’t bad enough, he was suddenly just… really… so fucking exhausted. The kind of exhausted that he could barely even find it in himself to move. The kind of exhausted that seeped into his bones and wouldn’t let go.

He slumped over on the floor, unable to hold himself up any longer.

He couldn’t just fall asleep… not here, not now. He didn’t even know how she was doing it, or what she was going to do to him if he did lose consciousness. He forced his eyes wide open, but they were fluttering shut anyway, against his will.

“Well, isn’t that just perfect?” the Spider Queen asked, likely rhetorically. If MK had the energy to think of a good response, he would definitely be doing that right now. He’d be all… uh… god, he was so tired. He could probably sleep for like, a thousand years.

He zoned out on whatever monologue she was giving. He couldn’t fight this exhaustion any longer. He just wanted to sleep…

He yawned faintly, drifting off and allowing himself to give in to the cold clutches of sleep. He couldn’t resist it, anyway.

The world faded away around him.

———

MK woke up what he presumed was a short time later, still completely out of it, but at least with enough energy to think.

He was alone. Thank goodness.

Alright, he had to get out of here. First he had to somehow get untied, and then he had to find his staff, and then he had to find a way out of here. That seemed simple enough. That was totally simple enough! He could handle this.

Carefully, he sat up, doing his best not to make any noise.

He had to get this perfect. Just the memories from earlier had him feeling nauseous, and he had a feeling that if he didn’t get out of here before the Spider Queen came back, there would be more where that had come from. He wasn’t exactly eager to experience that.

Hmm, maybe if he could find something sharp to cut the ropes — yes, he knew they were webs, but the very horror of that idea was too much to comprehend. It was easier to just think of them as regular old ropes. He really didn’t need to be sending himself into a panic attack right now.

He looked around for… he didn’t know, a pointy rock or something? Anything remotely sharp would do. Probably.

It took a minute, but he finally managed to get to his feet. He stumbled, biting back a shriek as he immediately tripped forward. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t make an effort to catch himself.

His face collided with the floor. Hard.

The sound echoed throughout the cave. Oh shit, now not only was he in immense pain, but he definitely had a limited time frame to get away.

He scrambled to his feet again, leaning against the wall to steady himself before he took off in a staggering run. Forget the getting untied part, first he just had to get away.

He was actually making progress! He had been right, it was all completely working out. He’d be back home and cozy in bed before he could say noodles.

Don’t look back, don’t look back, just keep running.

Oh man, he could actually see light! Light meant freedom! He moved towards it, panting with effort and exhaustion. Almost there. He was almost there. He could take a nice long nap as soon as he got out.

He was so close.

And then he was choking again.

He fell to his knees, gasping for breath as the band — he absolutely was not calling it a collar, because it was just his headband — tightened around his neck.

Stop stop stop stop!

His lungs were already burning, and his neck was going to bruise, he was sure of it.

It hurt so bad, he just wanted it to stop, oh god.

“There you are,” the Spider Queen said, her voice barely registering in MK’s fuzzy brain. He just wanted it to stop. Nothing else mattered.

He was vaguely aware of his body being plucked off the ground.

“Can’t have you running off like that, little monkey. Lucky you, I have a delightful punishment picked out.”

MK, for all his fighting, could do nothing to stop her.

The band stopped squeezing the life out of him, thank goodness, but he had a sick feeling that whatever was going to come next would be just as bad (or worse).

He was all but thrown into a dark, disgusting cell. Full of… full of… nope nope nope too many spiderwebs, way too many spiderwebs.

“You’re going to stay in this dark, nice little cell — full of spiders, by the way — until you learn how to respect your queen. I’ll be back in the morning, little monkey. Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson by then.”

With that, the cell door shut and locked, and MK was left alone. On the bright side, he finally managed to free his hands from their bindings. On the downside, he was alone. In a scary nightmare cell full of horrors.

Full of spiders.

His entire body jerked in a shiver.

He could hear scuttling — no doubt one of the horrifying little beasts themselves. Oh god, how many were there? He could barely see, he certainly couldn’t make out any insects.

What if they were everywhere? Was every inch of the place crawling with them? There were so many webs, too many webs, too many spiders, oh god.

He was struggling to breathe once again, practically hyperventilating as tears filled his eyes. The crushing panic of the situation was slamming into him.

He wanted to go home. He would take anything over this. He would take being thrown across a goddamn volcano over this.

Something scurried across his leg.

A quiet sob left his throat. He was sitting there, completely frozen, unable to do so much as flick the spider away. God, he was so pathetic.

He could swear more spiders were crawling on him, now. His skin was burning. They were everywhere. He couldn’t breathe.

His fingers twitched, but he couldn’t make himself move.

Tears were streaming from his eyes and his skin was so itchy and he couldn’t handle this, he really couldn’t handle this.

His face was growing numb from how hard he was crying.

He didn’t even realize that he was finally moving, barely registering the pain from how hard he was scratching at his skin. Even when he realized how bad it did hurt, he couldn’t stop, scratching his arms, his hands, his legs, everything he could.

It was starting to burn.

The scratching got more frantic. He couldn’t stop until the spiders were gone. With the lack of light in the cell, he had no way of knowing when that would be, so he just continued to scratch and continued to cry.

The panic turned the world into a haze. He stared blankly ahead, unseeing, doing nothing but scratching at his skin. Tears continued to pour from his eyes.

He was so pathetic. He was so pathetic. He was so pathetic.

He couldn’t even handle some stupid little baby spiders. He was supposed to be the brave protector of the city, the successor to the great Monkey King, and he couldn’t even handle spiders.

He sniffled. If Monkey King had known how pathetic he was, he’d never have chosen him.

And now look at him. Stuck in an eternal nightmare hole — which really did seem to be eternal, as wherever he was being kept wasn’t somewhere he’d seen while they’d been rescuing Tang and Pigsy — having lost the staff.

Oh god. He’d lost the staff. He really was worthless.

He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless, so stupid. The scratching increased, and he hissed at the feeling. He wasn’t cut out to be Monkie Kid. Monkey King had made a mistake, choosing him. It had all just been one big mistake.

He sobbed. Maybe he deserved to rot down here with the spiders. At least here he couldn’t fuck anything up for anyone.

His sobs turned to high pitched cries. He couldn’t handle this.

He cried for a long time, until there were no tears left to cry. Still, the panic didn’t go away. They were all over the cell, even if he couldn’t see them. His skin was still burning from how hard he’d been scratching.

His earlier exhaustion was hitting him again, full force. But he couldn’t sleep, not now. Not when he was surrounded by them.

He sniffled, pressing his arms close to his body and covering his face. As long as they didn’t get on his face or under his clothes or on his skin or anywhere near him it would all be okay. It would all be fine.

But it wasn’t fine. He was so far from fine.

He wondered briefly if Mei would laugh at him for panicking so badly. They were just spiders. Most of them couldn’t even hurt him. Unless they were big, or poisonous, or…

He hugged his knees to his chest. Mei would think he was being so stupid.

Blearily, he opened his eyes, surveying the cell nervously. He couldn’t see any spiders. That didn’t mean there weren’t any there. It only made it all the more nerve-wracking.

His eyes landed on the faint shadow of a spider. It was huge. Absolutely massive, actually. He scrambled back towards the edge of his cell.

No no no no no no!

Breathe, just take deep breaths, it wasn’t going to come any closer, it probably didn’t have any interest in him, just stop please get away he wanted to go home.

It didn’t move for a moment. Maybe it would leave. Maybe it would leave! That sounded pretty likely, right? It could totally leave!

Instead, out of nowhere, it scurried way too close for comfort.

MK shoved himself back against the wall of his cell, clawing at the door behind him.

“Let me out!” he shrieked, his voice strained. He received no response other than the spider getting ever closer. He had nowhere left to run. It was too close.

Whatever he’d thought he would go through as the Monkie Kid, all the horrible torture and the kidnappings and the near death experiences he’d dreamed up…

This was worse. This was so much worse.

27 notes · View notes

baseballbitch116 · 5 years ago

Text

Behave

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Setting: Takes place during Christmas break in the Goblet of Fire, the reader is staying with the Weasley’s for break

Request: Oh my gosh, please do a Fred or (preferably) George request for 70/71. "Shut up / make me" and behave.

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Suggestiveness, mostly just flirting - SFW

A/N: If you guys are interested in me making a second part that is smutty let me know in the comments!!

Masterlist | Fandoms | Submit A Request

It was Christmas Eve - you and some others were staying at the Weasley house for the short break. You were in your sixth year alongside your boyfriend, George. Despite being a few years older, you were good friends with Hermione, as well as Ginny. You had been looking forward to this Christmas, especially after how much fun you’d had with George at the Yule Ball.

It took some convincing from his best friends, but Harry eventually caved and joined the rest of you to stay at the Weasley house during the break. You felt bad for him, knowing that the tournament had to be taking a toll on him - he wasn’t even supposed to be in it. So you were glad that Ron and Hermione convinced him not to stay at Hogwarts alone during the holidays.

Having so many people in one small house was certainly a challenge, but Mrs. Weasley always made it work. Last Christmas, they had not allowed you to sleep in George’s room with him - but this year you managed to get lucky, mostly due to George’s nagging. Seeing as there were so many people and you had been dating for over a year now, Mrs. Weasley finally caved - but you guys still had to share the room with Fred.

Most of the others were outside at the moment as Arthur was insisting that they cut down and set up a Christmas tree “like muggles.” George had started following his siblings outside before you grabbed his arm, tugging him back into the house. “Whoa, wha-” He starts, but you interrupt him with your lips, leaning into him on your tippy-toes to reach him. It only takes a moment for him to react, leaning down slightly to your height, returning the kiss. He pulls away after a few moments, resting his forehead against yours, a cheeky grin spreading across his lips.

“What was that for?” He questions smugly, his hands trailing down your torso toying with your shirt.

“We’re alone...” You mumble, brushing your nose against his as you take a step closer to be nearly pressed against his larger frame. He moves back enough so that he can look around sarcastically, making you playfully shove his shoulder. “We are?!” He exclaims, frantically looking around the empty living room. His grin making your heart swell, his chuckle sending shivers down your spinel. “C’mere,” He mutters, dramatically motioning you forward with a finger.

You waste no time in closing the space between you, smiling up at him - his hands finding your hips, tugging you closer to him. He brushes his nose against yours once more before tilting his head to the side and placing a painfully slow kiss on your lips. You melt against his touch, his arms being the only thing keeping you from dissolving into a puddle at his feet. His large hands on your hips pull you against himself as he starts backing you up slowly, the kiss gradually becoming more needy. Moments like these were rare and far apart, given the strictness of Hogwarts rules with gender interaction.

Your back hits the wall with a thump, George’s body pinning you there as his warm hands slip under your shirt, holding you close by your waist. Your skin feeling on fire everywhere he touched, turning you on more and more with every action. Your fingers trailed through his long ginger locks, getting lost in the moment - almost not hearing the front door opening.

The sudden slam of the door hitting the wall a handful of yards away from you startled both of you away from each other. You quickly tug at your shirt, trying to straighten it out as you stand beside George, a guilty look plastered on your face as you lock eyes with Hermione. Even without your flushed faces and swollen lips, your matching deer-in-headlights expressions was enough for her to be able to tell what she had just interrupted. She starts chuckling as she moves out of the way of Arthur and Fred as they drag in the tree with the others.

“Guess it’s good I came in first,” She whispers as she moves to stand beside you, shooting the two of you a knowing smirk as you all avoid getting in the way. You can feel your face heating up as you avoid making eye contact with anyone, an embarrassed smile hidden behind your hand.

Throughout the rest of the night, George and you had been taunting one another, trying to get the other riled up at the worst times. It started when he came up behind you as you helped decorate the tree, slipping his hands around your waist and pressing his larger body against your small frame. It was innocent enough, but the way he cuddled you close, enveloping you in his long arms - he knew was a weakness of yours. “Ew,” Ron mumbled as George gave you a kiss on your cheek, making you blush at his PDA.

“You’re just jealous.” George taunts his younger brother, leaning his head down to whisper in your ear. “Just a sneak peek at your present tonight.” He mumbles right into your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your entire body - which did not go unnoticed by him. He moves back and chuckles, walking away with a smug grin on his face as you stand there frozen in shock.

Following his stunt, you took it upon yourself to change into one of his shirts after dinner. You also threw on a pair of his pajama sweat pants, looking very snuggly and cute in his clothes. It seemed normal enough to everyone around you guys, but you could see the effect it had on George when he spotted you walking down the stairs. His eyes widened and you saw him gulp as he watched you walk through the kitchen, reaching up into the cabinet to grab a glass. You purposely chose one that was too high for you, the shirt rising slightly to expose your stomach.

“Hi Georgie,” You greet him sweetly as you fill the glass with some eggnog, approaching him where he was leaning against the counter, his own mug in hand.

“What’re you doing, love?” He asks, a small smile toying at his lips as you approach him. You take a sip of the drink, glancing up at him over the glass, false innocence masking your intentions. He knew exactly what you were doing - and while it was torture, he loved it. You shrug your shoulders at him, placing your glass down on the counter and messing with your loose bracelet on your wrist.

“I’m not doing anything, George.” You respond, a certain emphasis on his name. You knew how much he liked it when you said his name in bed. You have a hard time containing the smug grin that spreads across your face as you watch him bite his lower lip, shifting his weight. You “accidentally” drop your bracelet on the floor, quickly bending over in front of him to pick it up, making sure you came close to brushing your ass against him, but not quite close enough. A quiet groan escapes his lips as you stand back up, shooting a wink his way before finishing off your eggnog. “Oops,” You say, smirking at him.

“You better behave,” George mutters as he stands up from the counter, taking hold of your wrist and pulling you closer to him, looking down at you with a mischievous look in his eye. You smile up at him, placing a quick kiss on his lips before turning on your heel, smirking over your shoulder at him as you place your cup in the sink and walk away, swaying your hips as you feel his eyes burn into you. Toward the end of the night, after a few of the others had gone to bed, some of you decided to play a muggle card game called Cards Against Humanity. It was hilarious and you were quite enjoying it. Harry, Ron, Hermione, George, Fred and yourself were gathered at the coffee table as you played. The game hadn’t gotten too vulgar yet, and George had almost forgotten about the little game the two of you had been playing on each other all day - until Ron read the latest card.

“Instead of coal, Santa now gives bad children blank.” He reads aloud, setting the card down in front of him and covering his eyes. Everyone giggles to themselves as they place their answers in front of him, George shooting you a cocky smirk as he does so. Ron shuffles the cards before reading the answers aloud, most of them making you chuckle. “A nice spank on the bum,” Was the last answer that Ron read, making everyone laugh and blush at the vulgar response.

“Ooh, Y/N would like that.” George suddenly says, startling you. He doubles over in laughter as your face turns red, everyone else laughing at your reaction other than Ron who pretended to vomit. “You didn’t deny it!” He jokes between gasps of air in his laughter.

“Shut up!” You exclaim through embarrassed giggles, giving George a shove.

“Make me.” He taunts, raising a brow at you.

“You lot are so gross.” Fred teases, rolling his eyes at you as he picks up his card. You give George a look, a small heat radiating in your stomach as your mind wanders, concocting a bunch of ways to make him shut up.

For now though, you just let out a huff and lean back against the sofa, resting your head in his chest as the game carries on. His arm drapes over your shoulder, holding you close as you grow tired against him, losing interest in the game.

You started drifting off to sleep on George’s shoulder right around the time that Fred won the game. George tapped you on the shoulder to wake you up, telling the others he was going to take you to bed. You heard them say that they were going to play another round, but you paid it no mind as you let George guide you up the stairs toward his bedroom.

To be continued...?

@shycupcakealissa @cat-of-ninetails @justducky0423@satanslittlesiister @supxheroxs @angelmarie823@blankitdblankityboom @at-least-i-have-harry-potter@viioletdelights @thewife122@limelight20@thatoneloonyravenclaw @wizardreyyy@afangirlfrommay @never-trusthugs @navas-things @just-my-fandom-replies @ignore-me-i-dont-exist-right-now@yourslytherinprincess @randomchick29@mikoshiota @i-am-never-getting-my-life-back @lcvcdbyhim@cloudyskylines @series-obsessed @bvckybarnesnsfw @ficbucket

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multi-fandom-imagine · 5 years ago

Text

Pregnancy Prompts

Taken from a lot of awesome lists! This is just a lot easier for me though I’ll be editing in where I got them

I don’t take credit for any of these.

I’ll be happy to take some Devil May Cry requests { really in the mood to write some things for those characters }

Pregnancy/Family Prompts/Starters

Discovery

1:“This is your fault!Take responsibility.”

2:One party finds out they’re pregnant while the other party is away/captured/missing.

3:Hiding pregnancy from the other partner.

4:“I didn’t think we’d ever do it.”

5:“My parents are gonna be so happy.”

6:“My parents are gonna kill me.”

7:“Do you think it’ll be a boy, or a girl?”

During Pregnancy

8:Baby kicks for the first time.

9:Discussing baby names.

10:Cuddling.

11“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant, and even if you were fat, I don’t care. I love you.”

12:“I dunno if I’ll be a good Mom/Dad.”

13:“I’m emotional and pregnant, leave me alone.”

14:“Get them to settle down in there, will you?”

Labor/After Birth

15:“Baby’s coming, now.”

16“Don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

17:“I can’t do this.”

18:A long and difficult labor, with a good or bad end.

19:“I’m going to kill you if you do this to me again.”

20:Parents relaxing with their newborn(s)/looking at them in awe.

21:“I will always protect you.You can do this.”

1. “Shh, it’s okay, you don’t need to cry.”

2. “Do you want a bed time story?”

3. “[mama/papa]’s got you.”

4. “…How on earth did you manage to get up there?”

5. “Put the cookie down, eat your dinner first.”

6. “I think I can feel them kicking!”

7. “Quick, I think the baby is coming!”

8. “Where did you put your blankie this time.”

9. “One little shoe. Two little shoes. Already to go out.”

10. “They have grown so much, it’s hard to believe how little they used to be.”

11. “I want another baby.”

12. “Say goodbye to mama and papa, they’ll be back soon.”

13. “Stomach bug?”

“No, morning sickness.”

14. “It could be worse?”

“They got jam everywhere!”

15. “You really are your [mother/father]’s child.”

16. “So… the baby is fine, I want you to know that first, they are absolutely fine.”

“What did you do?”

17. “They won’t stop crying and, in a minute, I think I am going to start crying first.”

18. “Stop wiggling! I need to get you changed!”

19. “You are perfect, my little [pet name].”

20. “Did you have a bad dream?” //

“Uh huh.”

“Come on, get into bed with us, you can sleep in bed with us tonight.”

21. “Take a break. I’ll stay up with them, you need some sleep.”

22. “How did you get pen that high up the wall?”

23. “Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t… You vomited on me.”

24. “How many coffees is that?” / “You try having a toddler who refuses to go to bed.”

25:“I hope they have your eyes.”

26:“We’re gonna need more diapers than that.”

27;“How do you like the nickname grandpa/grandma/grandparent?”

28:“Would you prefer something else over uncle/aunt [name]?”

29:“The petting zoo is closed, now stop touching me.”

30:“Whenever you stop talking, they start kicking.”

31:“Look! A foot! Hah, it’s like an alien is inside me/you.”

32:“I’m 41 weeks and 2 days, how do you think I’m doing?”

33:“If you don’t stop laughing, I’ll kick you. Now help me up!”

34:“Uh, its called the “pregnant privilege”.”

35:“Don’t spoil their kid’s taste in music with your trashy playlist.”

36:“Everyone is staring at me…”

37:“Originally, I wanted to pick this up off the floor, that was mistake number 1. Now, I’ve just accepted my fate that I’ll never get back up again.”

38“It’s just one cup of coffee, relax.”

39;“Lets take it slow, we gotta get through having this one before we think of having more.”

40:“Can’t wait for you to meet them.”

41:“I know it’s 3 AM, but do you know what I could really go for right about now?”

42:“Don’t panic, they’re just Braxton Hicks.”

43:“What’s so funny?”

44: “Lets have a baby.”

Pregnancey

1. “Did you feel him/her/them kick?”

2. “Do you think I’ll be a good mom/dad?”

3. “Babe, wake up. The baby is having a party in here! Give me your hand!”

4. “Hospital! Now!”

5. “Boy or Girl?”

6. “Can we name the baby after me?”

7. “Can you put the crib together!”

8. “Cuddle me now!”

9.“I’m pregnant…”

10. “I hope he/she has your eyes.”

11. “You want to paint the nursery what?!”

12.  "so… i have some news.“

13.  "okay i just want to say that, yes, i have gained some weight… but it’s because i’m pregnant.”

14.  "better get your dad jokes ready.“

15.  "right here! right here’s a foot!”

16.  "the little one is quite active today.“

17.  "is that a hand?!”

18.  "maybe you should try reading a book to them?“

19.  "come watch my belly, it’s frickin crazy!”

20.  "the top of the baby’s head is about… here. and a foot is right this way.“

21.  "do you think the baby would be down if i ate some chipotle?”

22.  "coffee isn’t good for you while you’re pregnant or breast feeding, but damn i need some caffeine.“

23.  "watermelon with peanut butter sounds so great right now.”

24.  "my feet are so swollen…!“

25.  "ew, my stretch marks are so gross…”

26.  "the baby will not stop kicking my bladder, so that is why i refuse to leave the toilet.“

27. “Honey you’re pregnant that’s all baby. You look beautiful.”

Newborn and Baby

1. “He/She is up again.”

2. “I’ll get the baby, you go back to sleep.”

3. “So sweet!”

4. “I have found your mini-me.”

5. “Babe!! We are out of formula…again!”

6. “Stop being a baby hog!”

7. “They’re gorgeous!!”

8. “This parent thing is hard!”

9. “You both are precious!”

10. “I love you both so so much!”

11. “Oh…it’s everywhere…I didn’t realize babies…went so much…”

12. “I’ve got it, go back to sleep.”

13. “Wake up, the baby needs you.”

14. “I can’t change their diaper without you getting sick It’s a little frustrating.”

15. “Momma’s little baby, yes you are.”

16. “Daddy’s little baby, yes you are.”

 Toddler

1. “That’s your son/daughter!”

2. “They are walking!!!”

3. “I love it when fall asleep on me.”

4. “she/he keeps crying for you.”

5. “Can I hold them!”

6. “Can I pick they’re outfit out today?”

7. “Daddy’s little girl/boy.”

8. “Mummy’s little girl/boy.”

9. “she /he is never going to be aloud to date!”

10. “Was that a word?!?”

11. “This kid is gonna have a better childhood than I did.”

12. “Honey our little angel just flushed his/her toy down the toilet!”

1: ❝ watermelon like that- oh. ❞

2:❝ Can I touch your stomach? ❞

3:❝ Who’s the daddy? ❞

4:❝ HI LITTLE GUYYYYYY. ❞

5:❝ How many weeks? ❞

6❝ Does it hurt? ❞

7:❝ That’s a living thing in there. A real living thing. ❞

8:❝ I think I deserve extra food since I’m eating for two. ❞

9:❝ Does this make me look fat? ❞

10:❝ No, I get to sleep twice as long because I’m sleeping for the both of us. ❞

11:❝ It’s a boy/girl. I am calling him/her ___. ❞

12:❝ Did someone say shopping spree? The baby room isn’t going to furnish itself. Also you have to carry everything. ❞

13:❝ I used to sneak food into theatres like this, but now I’m sneaking a baby in. ❞

14:❝ NOTHING FITS ME ANYMORE. ❞

15:❝ I’d be fine if I had three bowls of ice cream with diced bananas and sprinkles and a scoop of nutella and three potato chips and- ❞

16:❝ My stomach is like a table now. Look, I can balance all these chocolates on there and- oh.. the baby kicked it off.. ❞

- announcing

❛ so… i have some news. ❜

❛ you look at it, i’m too nervous. ❜

❛ it came back positive. ❜

❛ so… hypothetically, if we were to have a baby, how would you react?❜

❛ okay i just want to say that, yes, i have gained some weight… but it’s because i’m pregnant.❜

❛ better get your dad jokes ready. ❜

❛ you’re going to be a parent! ❜

- questions / hopes / concerns

❛ what names do you like? ❜

❛ i wonder if they’ll like _____. ❜

❛ do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl? ❜

❛ what if i’m a bad mom/dad? ❜

❛ i hope they like me. ❜

❛ so… do you know… what breast milk tastes like? ❜

❛ if my kid turns out like __insert person__ i’ll be pretty pleased. ❜

❛ do you think they’ll have your eyes? ❜

❛ who should we make the god parents? ❜

❛ i haven’t told __insert person__ yet… how should i tell them?❜

- belly feeling / watching / interactions

❛ right here! right here’s a foot!❜

❛ the little one is quite active today.❜

❛ is that a hand?! ❜

❛ maybe you should try reading a book to them? ❜

❛ come watch my belly, it’s frickin crazy! ❜

❛ the top of the baby’s head is about… here. and a foot is right this way. ❜

- cravings

❛ do you think the baby would be down if i ate some chipotle? ❜

❛ coffee isn’t good for you while you’re pregnant or breast feeding, but damn i need some caffeine. ❜

❛ watermelon with peanut butter sounds so great right now. ❜

- other ( reactions, complaints, etc. )

❛ my feet are so swollen…! ❜

❛ ew, my stretch marks are so gross… ❜

❛ the baby will not stop kicking my bladder, so that is why i refuse to leave the toilet. ❜

❛ i’m… going to be a dad/mom?! ❜

❛ well how far along are you?!❜

❛ you’re kidding! ❜

“I’ve always wanted to be a mother/father!”

“We’ve waited a long time for this.”

“Do you want to feel the baby kick?”

“Give me your hand so you can feel it, too”

“We have to finish the nursery. There’s only two weeks left.”

“Have we bought everything on the baby list?”

“I can’t wait to finally hold it”

“You’re glowing!”

“There is something I have to tell you…”

“Hello little one, this is your daddy speaking..”

“I think it likes me touching your belly.”

“I can feel it kick!”

“My back aches and I want ice cream.”

“I can’t hide my bump any longer. I think we need to tell people.”

“I heard the heart beat for the first time.”

“Do you want to see an ultrasound picture?”

“You’re going to be an amazing mom/dad!”

“What would you say about adding one more? The house is big enough.”

“I think my water just broke…”

“Do you think it’s contractions?”

“Call the midwife, this is not a false alarm.”

“I think it’s too late to drive to the hospital, the baby is coming NOW.”

#pregnant #pregnancy #pregnancy promptrs #writing prompts

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calamariimpossible · 4 years ago

Text

Magicians on the internet, crypto, and the email that broke me.

This is a continuation of a twitter thread that Muz (@mzkrx) started to write out in his car but then when he plotted out his thoughts, it made more sense to him to put it down in a blog format rather than a thread. You'll find out why as you read through.

Stuck in the car for half an hour so I'm gonna do a thread (Editor's note: Now a whole-ass blog post) about a strange email I got recently.

So I was casually watching magic tricks on YouTube. the funnest part of which to me is reading the comments. YouTube commenters love explaining how they think the trick is done and it's fun to read through their theories and connect dots between similar tricks, etc.

And then one time as I was scrolling I noticed a comment that didn't make sense. It was a string of an almost sentence. Intelligible enough to not be random words but odd enough to read like a trigger phrase for something.

The closest I can describe it as is like the string Zemo used to wake up the Winter Soldier, but with some syntax to it. Like "many thermos wiggle throughout exotic harbinger of circle ascending fuchsia entrapment".

Initially I thought nothing of it, but then I kept seeing them in these magic trick video comment sections. They're never the same string, and it's always under magic trick videos. from different channels even.

Hmmm.

The profiles that posted these comments are also always blank accounts with zero videos and no profile pic. Just their name. I felt like it was too much of a coincidence for these comments to only be under magic trick videos.

I also knew that the world of performance magic is thick with secrets. That is to say, there is deliberate obfuscation of information whenever you try to go online to find out how a trick works.

Magicians get together online and share information with each other just like performers of every other sort as well but the amount of code and doublespeak they use is an order of magnitude more annoying to decipher compared to say, an engineering message board or a gamedev forum.

Knowing that, I thought maybe this almost parsable gibberish I keep seeing everywhere was also some kind of code these people were using to talk to each other.

So I started investigating.

First things first, let's just Google one of the phrases. Maybe that's enough?

And it sorta was.

Pasting them onto the search bar lent me to only 1 result (wild!) and it was a website that looked really dank. Like geocities dank. Annoying neon colours and badly margined jpegs of tarot card images everywhere and a big bold header text that said something to the effect of:

"Congratulations, you've found our hidden message. This portal is only for those seeking knowledge beyond what is on the surface. Continue below."

* * *

I haven't been doing well. I feel like I say that too much. I say it on Patreon, on my personal podcast, whenever any of my friends ask me how I'm doing, pretty much everywhere. I feel very heavy. I understand I'm not the only one feeling like this during a pandemic.

Duh.

But I have this other version of worry that I can't quite articulate until right now: I'm scared I won't be funny anymore. Anwar and Farid can attest that even during our recordings I don't feel up to being funny. I question my jokes a lot. I barely enjoy telling them. I'm worried I'm letting everyone down.

To me, silliness and absurdism as virtues only make sense when the world has trace amounts of injustice and wrongness that training ourselves to see it in our everyday helps us remind ourselves of what is just and fair. The more we consume silliness, the more we are able to recognize silly and point it out. So we don't ignore it when things go wrong, so we talk about it, manage it. So we can take care of each other.

Maybe I can't be sure if we're all up for taking care of each other right now.

* * *

"Continue below" seems instructive, but it wasn't. Like I mentioned, the margins were haphazard and the CSS was all over the place. Some jpegs were straight up cropped off.

Meaning I can't be sure what "below" meant. But there were clickable images and text so I was readily intrigued.

It was tantalizing. Did I stumble into some secret order of Extremely Online Magicians? Maybe I'll finally find out why there aren't many female magicians out there. Maybe it's some sort of secret initiation to a secret message board full of secrety secrets. Secretly.

Y'all.

I didn't click on any of the linked images or anything. I closed the tab. That was the end of that.

An earlier version of myself would gladly run headlong into this rabbit hole to find out more and sink hours into some goddessforsaken labyrinth of links. But the current version of me recognizes this for what it almost certainly is: an abandoned roleplaying game.

Back in the early 00s when the internet was the realm of nerds and nerds only, it was full of people who loved sharing things for sharing's sake. It used to be punk rock to maintain a blog that only talked about snails or have a lo-fi YouTube channel that uploads biweekly 3-minute news about your house, or manage a little message board where people roleplay as wizards who rummage around the net looking for clues.

That last part was a thing I remember being actively involved in. In '03, a group of online friends and I wrote up a scavenger hunt of sorts where we sent people through various blog pages that we have where the goal is to just dick around and have fun. We wasted each other's time for sure. Hundreds of hours of it for literally no gain at all but for some laughs and fun memories.

The internet isn't like that anymore. People don't share something online for sharing anymore. Not really. There's this idea that if you put stuff out there, you want people's attention because numbers are good. You get a lotta reblogs and RTs and Likes which means people Like you.

If you don't have a lotta numbers, you don't matter. If you do, everyone has to talk about what you said or did because it's 'News' now.

Isn't that kinda gross, you think? That we need people to interact through an app to be sure that we're Liked? I say "we" but I mean me. I've successfully poisoned my brain to believe this to a certain extent too and it's not good.

I felt myself physically react when I closed that geocities magician website tab. I shuddered because my brain went from "this is cool" to "I gotta let people know I found this" to "this'll get me hella RTs" to "ew Muz why did you think that" within 3 seconds and I was disgusted with myself.

As a dude who started my online presence on YouTube and parlayed it into my real life comedy/writing career, I've believed for a long time that doing good work and putting it out there is what it takes for a working creative to make it because that's what I did. So there's this idea that making stuff and having it be seen is some kind of virtuous.

But it's not anymore. People pick fights with children for clout. Newspapers post about people's tweets as if its important. People are investing in crypto, a thing that literally only exists as electrical waste on a grand scale. We're boiling the oceans to yell at each other over nothing and exchange bits of code everyone agrees has ever-rising value but doesn't. Everyone is making and eating junk, it feels like.

So am I making junk? Have I just been making useless junk for literally over a decade now? Is that what I've been good for this entire time?

* * *

So the email.

It was a response from a company I applied to for a job. I applied as a creative writer and they're an advertising agency.

Receiving emails from a prospective employer when you're in need of a job is exciting! So soon after I applied, too. Wonderful. Here's what it said:

We just received your application today but would love to extend the opportunity for you to participate in the Case Competition as a prerequisite of your job application for Creative Writer position with [REDACTED] and stand a chance to be a winner for cash awards up to a total worth of RM1,800.

Yea.

They want me to enter a competition where I compete with other candidates to get a chance of being hired.

This company saw how many people applied for a job with them, and decided to dangle some cash and throw it over the fence to see which candidate will fight for it the most.

I didn't expect to feel vomitous after reading an email but that did it. I almost dry heaved. That's where we are now.

Recruiters see a glut of applicants and decided to play Fall Guys. These people watch Istana Takeshi and think Takeshi is the good guy. It hurts. It hurt me. That email caused me pain.

I can't at all empathise with recruiters who think this was okay to do. They really believed that creative writers will do a little dance for them just for money.

Look, I know we all need to eat. But I can also hate that people undervalue the work of creatives to this painful extent.

I don't give a shit about earning a lot of dough. I just wanna make things that tickle people. I want you to smile more.

That's the whole point of that weird little YouTube comment that led to the quirky website. That's the whole idea of making silly videos and dumb tweets and memes. We just want you to laugh.

But it seems people think so little of joy that they'll do whatever they can to avoid legitimately supporting and paying for stuff that gets them through the day. So much so that they want free work from us for the potential of maybe being able to get paid for more work. It breaks me, man.

I hate that I cannot make a living just trying my best to make people happy.

That's the best way I know to take care of you.

I know I don't just 'make junk' for a living. People have messaged me personally that my work has helped them get through tough times in school, in their relationships, at the office and I am eternally grateful that they took the time to tell me that.

I just also wish my feelings about my work aren't easily brought down by the majority of people who insist its worthless. Even if sometimes those people is me.

So forgive me if I won't be funny for a while. I'm gonna need some time to process this. Thank you for reading. I love you.

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bechloeislegit · 5 years ago

Text

THE TREBLE VS THE BELLA Chapter 1

A/N: This idea came from Tumblr User rejection-isnt-failure. In swapping ideas, Jealous Chloe, Enemies to Lovers, and Beca as a Treble/Chloe as a Bella, were listed as some of our fave AUs (for both of us). So, I've decided to try and combine them into one fic (I really am going to try; hopefully, I succeed).

Set during the first Pitch Perfect movie with a different spin.

I hope you enjoy it.

Chloe Beale was getting frustrated as her best friend, Aubrey Posen, was becoming more and more anxious. They had been manning the Bellas booth for several hours and only had one girl sign up to audition.

"This is a travesty," Chloe said.

"Cool your jets, Chloe," Aubrey said. "I am confident that we will find eight totally hot girls with bikini-ready bodies to audition. Now keep flyering."

Aubrey shoved the flyers into Chloe's hands and went behind the table. Chloe managed to sign up two new girls and was standing next to Aubrey when she saw a thin brunette walking toward them.

"What about her?" Chloe said pointing the girl out to Aubrey.

"I don't think so, Chloe," Aubrey said. "She's a little too 'alternative' for us."

The girl was close and Chloe thrust a flyer out. "Would you like to join our a capella group?"

The girl looked down at the flyer and back up at Chloe. "You're Chloe and she's Aubrey, right?"

At Chloe's nod, Beca said, "I recognize you from your videos."

"Oh," Chloe said. "So, would you like to audition for the Bellas?"

"Sorry, but I'm auditioning for the Treblemakers."

"Doubtful," Aubrey scoffed. "They only recruit guys. What are you going to do for them? Be their bitch?"

The brunette ignored the bitch comment and spoke directly to Chloe.

"They're trying something different this year," the girl said. "And, I, Beca Mitchell, will be the first female Treblemaker."

"Pretty cocky," Chloe said with a smirk.

"Not cocky," Beca said. "Confident in my abilities."

The two stared at each other as if sizing the other up. "I guess we'll see," Chloe said.

"Becaw!" A voice called out causing Beca to cringe.

Chloe bit her lip to keep from laughing at Beca as she punched the boy in the arm.

"Jesse!" Beca hissed. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"Ow! Sorry," Jesse said as he rubbed his arm. "I'm just excited. I can't believe we're both going to be Treblemakers." He threw his arm around Beca's shoulders

"You have to audition first," Aubrey said smugly. "They only accept the best guys-" she stopped and looked Beca up and up. "The best singers."

"That's us," Jesse said with some pride.

"Are you sure you want to audition for the Treblemakers?" Chloe asked, looking at Beca. "We're one of the best all-female a capella groups in the country."

"You were one of the best," Beca said and looked at Aubrey. "After last year, I think you have a lot to make up for to even be considered mediocre."

"You bitch," Aubrey said.

"Doesn't change what happened," Beca said with a smirk.

Aubrey moved as if to go after Beca. Chloe stepped in front of Aubrey to keep her from attacking the younger girl.

"You should probably go," Chloe said, hoping the girl would leave.

"She doesn't scare me, but I'll go," Beca said with a smirk and looked Chloe up and down. "And, maybe I'll see you later."

Beca threw a wink at Chloe as she grabbed Jesse and pulled him with her as she headed toward the Treblemakers table. Chloe moved from in front of Aubrey when she heard a distinctive sound coming from Aubrey's throat. She stood aside and watched as Aubrey took a few deep breaths and seemed to settle down.

"Did you almost vomit?" Chloe asked.

"Never mind that. We have another reason to beat those dick-licks," Aubrey said as she glared at Beca. "God, I hate her."

"You don't even know her," Chloe said.

"She wants to be a Treble," Aubrey said. "That's all I need to know about her."

Beca stole a glance back at Chloe and saw Aubrey glaring at her. She smirked and gave her a half nod before turning back to talk to Jesse and Bumper.

"I'm glad you're auditioning," Bumper said looking at Beca. "We think a good female voice will help us change our sound for the better. And, you're hot so you'll be noticed even more."

Beca grimaced and looked away from Bumper.

"Don't worry," Jesse said. "Beca's a great singer. She's going to blow your mind when you hear her."

"I hope you're right," Bumper said as he leered at Beca. "We'll see you both on Thursday."

"This is so exciting," Jesse said as he and Beca walked away.

"It's something alright," Beca said. "You didn't tell me these guys were a bunch of douchebags."

"They're not," Jesse said. "Bumper seemed pretty cool."

"He's gross," Beca said scrunching up her nose. "Did you see the way he leered at me? Ew!"

"Just tell him you're gay," Jesse said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "That will keep him away."

"When does it ever keep guys away?" Beca asked with a sneer. "It usually just spurs them on to try and show me how I just haven't been with the right guy yet."

"Hey," Jesse said and grabbed her arm to stop her. "Not all guys are like that. You have to stop lumping us all together. There are good guys out there."

"I know," Beca said contritely. "I'm sorry. I'm tired of having to deal with these douchebags everywhere I go."

"You're in college now, Beca," Jesse said. "Give it a chance. Besides, I think you might be a bit busy before you know it."

"What do you mean?" Beca asked as they started walking again.

"Well, aside from being a Treble, Chloe seemed to take quite an interest in you," Jesse said with a smile. "And, she's your type. Plus, Aubrey was kind of hot and totally my type. They're friends. How cool would it be if we dated best friends?"

"One, I think Chloe is straight," Beca said. "And, two, Aubrey was bitchy to both of us and didn't like me so, even if I had a chance with Chloe, I'm sure Aubrey's already told her to stay away from me."

"Maybe," Jesse said. "But you won't know if you don't try."

Beca didn't say anything as they continued walking around the Activities Fair.

~oOo~ The Treble vs The Bella ~oOo~

Two weeks later, Jesse showed up at Beca's dorm room. Beca let him in and they sat on Beca's bed talking.

"Hey," Jesse said. "Before I forget, dad wanted me to invite you to the house for dinner."

"No," Beca said.

"Come on, Beca," Jesse whined. "He's extending an olive branch. Take it. Make peace with him."

"You're lucky I let you back into my life," Beca said. "You still don't seem to get it no matter how many times I tell you. When dad left and took you with him, I got the brunt of all of mom's anger. While you two were safely tucked away in dad's man cave not giving two fucks about what I was going through, mom was getting drunk and I was left to take care of her and suffer the beatings she doled out whenever she felt like it."

"I'm really sorry about that, Beca," Jesse said. "I wish I had known."

"If you had ever bothered to take my calls, or respond to my texts and voicemail messages like you promised you would, you would have known," Beca said her voice laced with anger. "Did you even listen to any of my messages? Or read any of my texts?"

Jesse stared down at the floor not saying a word, giving Beca an answer to her question.

"You should go," Beca said and got up and held the door open for Jesse to leave.

"Beca," Jesse said pleadingly.

Beca glared at Jesse. Jesse ran a hand through his hair and got up. He walked to the door and looked at Beca. Beca looked away from him. Jesse sighed and walked out of the room flinching as he heard the door slam behind him.

~oOo~ The Treble vs The Bella ~oOo~

It took Beca almost thirty minutes to calm herself after Jesse left. She finally let out a heavy sigh and decided to go to the showers. She undressed and put her robe on. She grabbed her shower caddy and towels before slipping on her shower shoes.

Beca made her way to the showers and had started singing just before she entered the changing room and went straight back to the shower stalls. She went to an end stall, singing as she went. She hung her towel on the towel bar outside the stall and hooked her shower caddy inside. She turned the water on and stepped back to remove her robe. She put the robe on the hook and stepped into the stall, pulling the shower curtain closed behind her.

Beca fixed the water temperature and continued singing as she let the warm water cascade down her body.

"You actually have a good voice," a voice called from behind Beca. "Too bad you want to waste it singing with the Trebles."

"Dude!" Beca yelled startled. She grabbed for the shower curtain to cover herself.

It took her a second to recognize her shower intruder as Chloe; a very naked Chloe. Chloe stepped further in and Beca pulled herself back. Chloe looked as if she was trying to avoid getting wet as she grabbed the handle and shut off the water.

"Please try out for the Bellas," Chloe said. "The Trebles won't use your talent to the best of your abilities. Bumper's an egotistical asshole and always takes the lead on every song. He won't give it to you because you're a girl. You'll be a novelty and he'll just use you for show."

"Could we talk about this when we're not both nude?" Beca asked, trying to keep her eyes on Chloe's face.

"You were singing Titanium, right?"

Before Beca could say anything, she dropped her shampoo bottle and tried to grab it, causing her to let go of the shower curtain. She mumbled an "Oh, God" and bent down to retrieve the bottle. As she went to stand she caught sight of Chloe's nakedness and jumped up and faced the back of the shower.

"So?" Chloe prodded. "Am I right? You were singing Titanium?"

"Um, yeah," Beca said, looking back over her shoulder. "You know David Guetta?"

"Have I been living under a rock?" Chloe said sarcastically. "That song is my jam." She leaned in and conspiratorially added, "My lady jam."

Beca's eyebrows raised as she continued to look at Chloe over her shoulder.

"Song really builds," Chloe said and winked at Beca.

"Gross," she mumbled.

"Can you sing it for me?" Chloe asked.

"No," Beca said. "I am not auditioning for you in the shower. Please leave."

"I'm not leaving until you sing," Chloe said and crossed her arms over her chest. She let out a heavy sigh and looked at Beca.

"Suit yourself," Beca said and turned the shower back on.

Chloe squealed and put her hands up to block the cold water that was suddenly raining down on her. Beca just smiled as Chloe jumped out of the stall and glared at her.

"I was trying not to get my hair wet," Chloe yelled as she shook out her arms. "That wasn't funny!"

Beca let out a laugh as she adjusted the shower spray and stepped under it.

"I hope you do make it into the Trebles," Chloe said fuming. "They are nothing but a bunch of assholes. You'll fit right in."

Chloe then stomped off in a huff, Beca's laughter echoing off the walls behind her.

~oOo~ The Treble vs The Bella ~oOo~

Chloe was still angry when she stormed into the apartment she shared with Aubrey. She slammed the door as she came in, causing Aubrey to jump.

"Why is your hair wet?" Aubrey asked.

"That, that, argh," Chloe sputtered. "I hate her."

"What happened?" Aubrey asked.

"I was taking a shower in the Baker Hall dorms when someone walked in singing," Chloe said pacing back and forth.

"Why were you using the showers in the dorm?" Aubrey asked.

"Because you used up all the hot water here and I needed the hot water to relax my muscles," Chloe said and then stopped to look at Aubrey. "Who cares why I was there? I heard an amazing singer and when I followed her voice and saw who it was, I nearly fell over."

"Who was it?"

"That wanna-be Treble, Beca Mitchell."

"Oh," Aubrey said. "I'm guessing by your upset state that you talked to her?"

"Yeah. I told her she should audition for the Bellas and not the Trebles because they wouldn't use her to her full potential. Then she turned the cold water on me."

"Ah, so that's why you're hair is wet," Aubrey said, catching on.

"That's not the worst part," Chloe said. She sat down on the sofa and let out a breath. "She's good, Brey. Really good. If the Trebles take her, we are going to be in even more trouble than we thought."

"Let's not worry about what might happen," Aubrey said. "Let's just focus on getting the best singers we can. We'll whip our girls into shape and beat those dick-licks with our kickass set and choreography."

"It's not that simple," Chloe mumbled.

"It is if we make it that simple," Aubrey said, having heard her. "Now, go dry your hair and I'll make us some lunch."

~oOo~ The Treble vs The Bella ~oOo~

Later that afternoon, Beca was in her dorm room listening to some music and reading her Philosophy textbook. She may hate the idea of being made to go to college, but she was going to do the best she could while she was there.

Beca noticed her roommate get up and go to the door. She pulled her headphones off when she saw Jesse standing in the doorway. Her roommate went back to her desk and Jesse came in and closed the door.

"Hey," he said.

"What do you want, Jesse?" Beca said. "I'm busy."

"Look, I wanted to apologize," Jesse said. "I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls or respond to your texts." Beca didn't say anything so Jesse took that as a sign to keep going. He sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her. "I did listen to your messages and read your texts. I told dad about them and he said-" Jesse paused and bit his lip. "He said you were just making things up and being overly dramatic to make him and me feel bad about leaving you with mom."

"Made things up?" Beca practically screamed as she jumped up from the bed. "Why the fuck would I have lied about all that? God, you two are, ugh!" Beca stopped and took a breath. "You know what? Get out. I don't want to see or talk to you or your father while I'm here."

"Beca, stop!" Jesse said, standing to grab Beca by the shoulders. "I realize now that you weren't lying and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

Beca shrugged out of Jesse's hold and glared at him. "Do you know how many nights I cried because you weren't there? You promised me that you would always be there for me. I had no one, Jesse. No one!" Beca sniffled to try and keep the tears at bay. "I hated dad for leaving and I didn't expect to ever hear from him again. But, you? I expected that you would call me or text me like you promised. That you would check up on me every once in a while. God, Jesse, we have the same birthday and you never once called or texted a 'Happy Birthday' to me. I texted you for our birthday for the first two years, but you never once called or texted it back. You not bothering to acknowledge my, our, birthday hurt worse than anything mom did to me."

Beca wiped at her eyes and sniffled as she sat on the edge of her bed.

Jesse had tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Beca. I felt like I was being disloyal to dad every time I thought about calling or texting you." He ran his hands down his face and sat next to Beca. "I'm here now, and I swear I'm not going to let you down again. Just let me make it up to you. We were doing well until I mentioned dad wanting you to come to dinner. I promise I won't push you to see him or be around him. But, you also have to understand, Beca. I was lucky. Dad treated me well; I know you don't want to hear that, but he did. He was, he is a great dad."

"To you," Beca said, wiping her tears. "Even before he left, he favored you. I was just the other child. He'd take you on father-son outings, but he never took me anywhere where it was just the two of us. But, you and me? We were the Swanson twins. We were inseparable and joined together at the hip. Now, we're just Jesse Swanson and Beca Mitchell."

The two siblings sat there in silence for a few minutes.

"I have to admit that I was surprised when I heard you changed your name from Swanson to Mitchell," Jesse said, breaking the silence.

"I did that because I never felt like I belonged to dad," Beca said. "When mom said she was changing her name back to Mitchell, I asked if I could change mine, too. She was happy to let me do it. For six years after you left, it was just me and mom. Then it was Grandma Mitchell who took care of me when mom died. Good or bad, it was the Mitchell women who took care of me after you and dad left. The way he so easily discarded me made me realize I was never really a Swanson anyway."

Beca let out a shaky breath, and said, "God, Jesse! You didn't even come to mom's funeral. She was your mom, too. I never expected much from dad, but I expected better of you."

Beca sat on her bed, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I should have been there for you," Jesse whispered. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," Beca responded.

Jesse closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to hold back the flood of emotions he was feeling. He opened his eyes and looked at Beca.

"I know I can't erase the past, but could we please be brother and sister again?" Jesse asked as a tear ran down his cheek. "I've missed you and I'll do anything to make things right between us."

Beca looked at Jesse and felt tears stinging her eyes again. She took in a shaky breath and said, "We can try."

A smile came to Jesse's face as he grabbed Beca in a hug. "Come on. I'm buying you dinner."

~oOo~ The Treble vs The Bella ~oOo~

Beca and Jesse were sitting in a nearby diner when Aubrey and Chloe walked in. "Oh, great," Beca muttered.

"What?" Jesse said looking around. "Oh." He looked at Beca and smiled. "I'm going to go say hi to Aubrey."

Jesse was up and moving before Beca could stop him.

"This is not going to end well," Beca mumbled to herself.

Jesse had a big grin on his face as he approached the two Senior Bellas. "Good evening, Aubrey, Chloe. It's nice to see you-"

"Let me stop you right there, Treble-wannabe," Aubrey said, glaring at Jesse. "It is a well-known fact that Treblemakers and Bellas do not fraternize or have relationships with each other. So, take your Treble-wannabe self back over to your Treble-wannabe girlfriend and leave us, and all the Bellas, alone."

"Girlfriend?" Jesse said with a laugh. "Beca's not-"

"I don't care what she is or isn't to you," Aubrey said. "We will not be associating with either of you. Got it?"

"Got it," Jesse said and made his way back over to Beca.

Beca had watched the entire exchange and tried not to stare at Chloe. She did notice that Chloe was glaring at her.

Jesse sat down and then laughed. "They think you're my girlfriend," he told Beca.

"They what?" Beca asked, furrowing her brow. "Why would they think that?"

Jesse shrugged his shoulders and picked up a menu. Beca looked back at Chloe and Aubrey and they looked to be arguing. She looked around the diner and smiled.

"I'll be right back," Beca told Jesse.

Beca grabbed a napkin from one of the dispensers and walked toward Chloe and Aubrey. As she got closer she started waving the napkin like a flag.

"I come in peace," she said as she approached them. They didn't look impressed, but she carried on anyway. "Look, there are no available tables and Jesse and I are sitting at a booth for four. I would like to offer one side of the booth to you two. We can draw a line down the middle and you can sit on your side and we'll stay on ours. We don't even have to talk to each other. What do you say?"

"I don't want to sit with those Trebles," Aubrey said, looking at Chloe.

"You two really are something else," Beca said with a derisive laugh, causing the two Bellas Co-Captains to look at her. "You won't sit with us because we might become Trebles. You don't know anything about me, but you automatically assume I'm Jesse's girlfriend. Which, by the way, EW! And, FYI, he's my brother. Twin, actually."

Beca knew she was losing her cool so she took a deep breath and let it out. She looked directly at Chloe. "I was hoping that you would consider this my apology to you. I should not have turned the shower on you and I'm sorry I did."

Chloe blushed slightly and looked down at the floor. "Apology accepted," Chloe mumbled. She looked at Aubrey. "Let's just get our food to go."

"That would probably be best," Aubrey said and turned her back on Beca.

Beca just furrowed her brow and shook her head. "Wow, you are truly dedicated to this feud, or whatever it is, between the Trebles and the Bellas, aren't you? Suit yourself," she said and turned to walk back to her table.

She sat down and Jesse looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "We're not even Trebles yet and they already hate our guts. What the fuck did the Trebles do to the Bellas to make them hate them so much?"

"I don't know," Jesse said, looking back at Chloe and Aubrey. "Maybe Bumper will tell us once we become Trebles."

Beca bit her lip and looked back over her shoulder at Chloe. She had a feeling that this was going to be a long year.

~oOo~ The Treble vs The Bella ~oOo~

It was finally the day for auditions. Beca and Jesse walked into the Auditorium and sat in the seats designated for those auditioning. Beca looked over to see Chloe and Aubrey going over some papers.

While they were waiting, Bumper made some rude comments about what the Bellas were going to perform this year and what happened the previous year at the ICCAs. Aubrey snapped back at him and sat down with her back straight and her head held high. Beca had to give her props for not letting that douchebag get to her.

The auditions started and everyone did their parts. Jesse could tell he made an impression on Bumper so he was already a shoo-in it seemed.

When it was Beca's turn she did the song Since You Been Gone like everyone else. When she finished, Aubrey looked a little worried and Chloe just sighed and looked at her best friend.

Beca started to walk off the stage when Bumper called her back.

"That was pretty good," Bumper said. "Now let's see how you do on your own. Sing us something else, anything. I want to hear what else you can do."

"Um, okay," Beca said and looked down at the table in front of Chloe. "May I?" Beca asked pointing to a yellow cup with pens and pencils in it.

Chloe didn't say anything; she just waved her hand as if to say go ahead. Beca took the cup and dumped out its contents. She sat cross-legged on the floor and put the cup down in front of her.

Beca started clapping and using the cup for a beat. She sang and everyone in the Auditorium was silent. When she finished she shrugged and looked at Chloe before her gaze went back to Bumper and the Trebles. Several of the Trebles were nodding their heads and Bumper just looked back at her.

"Thank you," Bumper finally said, and Beca walked off the stage.

"I told you she was really good," Chloe whispered to Aubrey.

"It doesn't matter," Aubrey whispered back. "We can't let her distract us."

Chloe leaned back in her chair and glanced over at Beca. She was surprised to see Beca looking at her. Beca winked at her and Chloe blushed and quickly looked away.

~oOo~ The Treble vs The Bella ~oOo~

A few nights later, Beca and Jesse were 'kidnapped' and taken to the Trebles house where they officially became members of the Barden Treblemakers. Beca groaned when Bumper and Donald made some stupid pun about someone being in 'treble.'

After they received their maroon blazers, all the Trebles went to the Hood Night party that was being held at an outdoor amphitheater on campus. After a while, Beca was standing near the back wearing her new blazer when the Bellas walked in. She tried not to stare at Chloe, but she couldn't help it. There was something about the redhead and Beca couldn't get her off her mind.

Jesse came up to Beca, already half-drunk, and Beca pushed him to see if he would fall down. Jesse just laughed and said he was going to get her a drink. She laughed as he stumbled away.

Beca was surprised to see Chloe come up to her.

"So, you are officially the first female Treble ever," Chloe said, sounding unimpressed.

"I guess I am," Beca said cheekily.

"Don't be too impressed with yourself," Chloe said with an edge to her tone. "The Trebles are nothing but a bunch of douchebags and you'll be one by association."

"Why do you care so much about me being a Treble?"

"I don't," Chloe said. She leaned in closer to Beca and said, "I just know what they're capable of. You're a girl so I just want you to be prepared for anything. Call it a girl code of sorts."

Beca smirked and said, "Girl code? Really? Or is it that you're upset that I'm a Treble because that means we won't be able to be together?"

"Please," Chloe scoffed. "I don't want anything to do with you."

"Really?" Beca asked. "Because you keep looking at my lips like you want to kiss them? Do you? Want to kiss them?"

Chloe blushed and looked away from Beca only to hear her chuckling beside her.

"You're so easy, Beale," Beca said still chuckling.

"And you're so infuriating, Mitchell," Chloe said, facing Beca. "You think you're so hot and badass. Well, you're not."

"I'm not?" Beca asked with fake shock. Beca takes a step closer so she and Chloe are practically nose-to-nose. "Then what am I?"

"You're, I, it's-" Chloe gets flustered with Beca standing so close to her.

Beca grinned and reached out to grab Chloe's arm, which in turn caused Chloe to stumble forward and the next thing Beca knew, they were kissing. Choe's shocked gasp was lost in the kiss; so were Beca and Chloe. Chloe let out a soft moan and put her hand on Beca's waist to hold herself steady. Beca leaned in more and was really getting into the kiss.

"Chloe! What the hell are you doing?" Aubrey asked, her voice coming from behind Chloe.

Chloe jerked away from Beca and gasped in surprise. Her hand went to her mouth and she looked up to see a smug grin on Beca's face.

"I knew you wanted to kiss-"

SLAP!

Beca's head jerked to the side from the slap. Chloe gasped and put her hand up to her mouth.

"I, I, I," Chloe stuttered.

Beca's face was unreadable when she turned to look at Chloe. Chloe took several steps back from Beca, afraid of what Beca might do.

Jesse came running over. "Beca, are you okay?"

Beca just glared at Chloe while Chloe was frozen in fear with tears in her eyes. She had never slapped anyone before, and she wasn't really sure why she slapped Beca.

"I'm fine," Beca snapped at Jesse. "It appears we had a misunderstanding."

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Aubrey yelled at Beca.

"I guess I had a few drinks and got a little carried away," Beca said, cowering slightly.

Jesse looked at Beca; he knew she hadn't been drinking.

Aubrey looked at Chloe who was still standing frozen in shock. She turned her glare back to Beca.

"I told you Trebles are not allowed to hook up with Bellas," Aubrey said and turned to Chloe. "And I told you to stay away from her."

Chloe stood in the same spot, unable to move as she watched her handprint darken on Beca's face. Beca swallowed hard and looked at Chloe. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't like hearing Aubrey yell at Chloe. She decided to take the blame so Aubrey would stop yelling at her, or do something worse than yell.

"I'm sorry, Chloe," Beca said. "I don't know what came over me. I can only blame it on having too much to drink."

Aubrey looked at Beca and then looked at Jesse. "Maybe you should have someone keep an eye on her when she's drinking. She can't just go around kissing people because she's drunk."

Jesse went to say something, but Beca grabbed his arm as she shook her head. Jesse frowned and said, "I'll keep an eye on her from now on."

"Make sure you do," Aubrey said. She turned and put an arm around Chloe. "Come on, Chloe, let's take you home."

Chloe let Aubrey lead her away from Beca and Jesse. A thousand thoughts were running through Chloe's mind as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

Beca kissed me and I liked it. That thought kept coming to the forefront of her brain, and she couldn't shake it out.

Beca took the blame for the kiss even though Chloe returned it. Chloe could tell she hadn't had anything to drink and wondered why she would say she had.

#bechloe fanfiction #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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