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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth.

Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

¨No way.¨

¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand.

¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

Damon barely acknowledges you.

He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally.

Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

Everyone except Damon Albarn.

The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

Until he spoke.

¨Is this your first time playing?¨

You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures.

¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

But nonetheless, you don't back down.

¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

¨I didn´t-¨

¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

It's quiet for a moment.

¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

The obsidian glass rolls down.

¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

Oh.

¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky.

He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨

He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

What a save.

*******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

¨You´re late.¨

¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance.

The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship.

Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you.

Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

Take right now, for instance.

As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

Weather-2

You-0

You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier.

¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

There it was again, pretty woman.

You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

You feel your smile drop a smidge.

¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

¨Damon!¨

You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

¨Get out.¨

¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him.

¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

************

It's nighttime.

The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall.

The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

¨Looking for something?¨

You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

¨D-Damon?¨

¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

You can´t help the scoff that escapes you.

¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

¨You smell so good.¨

¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

¨We can´t.¨

¨Sure we can.¨

You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

¨You´re not worth this.¨

¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

You want to run your hands through his hair.

¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops.

You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

Halfway?

Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary.

You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

#blur #damon x reader #damon albarn #damon albarn smut #britpop #90s damon #90s #smut #fluff #britpop smut #damon fluff #Damon Albarn #damon albarn x reader #Damon albarn smut #Damon albarn fanfic #Damon albarn fanfiction #blur fanfic #blur fanfiction

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hamphobicbasil · 3 years

Note

Could u elaborate about the dsmp story being bad? Not a rabid/brain dead fan, just genuinely curious and I enjoy reading people's rants lolol

oh you dont know the floodgates you just opened

a few things:

1. despite not liking the creators of the dsmp anymore, I don't actually hate most of them. [the ones that are particularly unsavory fall outside of this of course] so all that I'm saying i truly mean in a critical sense towards the story, its also just all purely my opinion as someone who enjoys fictional and fantasy stories and who like criticizing works to see what it does well and what it doesn't do well

2. for clarification I'm going to use the c![name] to indicate when I'm talking about the characters. Don't get me wrong, I think its annoying too but its the only way I'm gonna be able to write this thing without getting something across the wrong way yknow?

3. I stopped watching the streams after November 16th, [save for one Techno one but I closed out after a particularly bad story beat lol] and so all information coming afterward is all second hand from either me seeing people on twt talk abt it or people dming me. All i really know is up to dream's imprisonment and some stuff past that.

4. This is mostly aimed towards the "main" story, so stuff abt the badlands, eggpire, and whatnot are briefly mentioned.

anyways uh, i'll try to be brief but also include enough information to get why i feel the way i do on some stuff across

A. Performances Alright obviously these people are all streamers, so obviously they might not be the best actors, and hell no one is even asking that of them. However, when you're telling a story that's based on the audio with the visuals kinda coming to a second, it's gotta be pretty strong. I will say, some of the best actors in my opinion are Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo. I would include Ranboo but I never watched any of his story bits or story streams so I can't say much. Wilbur and Tommy are excellent in selling their character's emotions and feelings, when I watch the stream I don't feel like I'm watching an rp but an actual thought-out story yknow? And one of my favorite Tubbo examples was in the Hog Hunt video whenever Techno attacked him, he sounded genuinely afraid and I believed everything his character was feeling.

However, unfortunately, not everyone is gonna be that good. And I'm gonna say it; Dream and Techno have to be the worst out of the entire cast. I understand Techno's whole character is this monotoned badass, however, when really emotional moments hit I feel like he never lets that fall, and a lot of intense moments just ring hollow. And I'm sorry but Dream's attempts at being intimidating leave me laughing whenever I watch them. It feels like he watched that one scene from The Marriage with Adam Driver and Scarlett Johannson and said "Oh this is what good acting looks like! Just yelling." His whole "I don't give a FUCK about Spirit!" speech isn't as great as people keep making it out to be. And whenever he tries to act coy when being a villain it feels like a guy reading the script for the first time, a bit like he's trying too hard. I have more problems with his character but his portrayal certainly doesn't help.

Everyone else is fine, and I don't feel strongly either way about a lot of them.

B. The "Lore" Okay first off, I can't be the only one who thinks it's silly that people are calling the dsmp's story "lore" when it's not, it's the fucking story. Lore indicates backstory to either the world or the characters, which a lot of the streams don't really pertain to. This is a really petty section but god it's a weird pet peeve of mine.

Other than the misusage of "lore" vs "story", the actual lore and world-building of the world are so lackluster that new elements can be introduced whenever and it often feels cluttered or not well thought out at all. And here's the thing, I feel like if the writers sat down just for a few minutes to establish world rules and general history, a lot of this could be solved! but so much is made up on the spot that it starts to feel like they're grabbing at straws to keep people invested, trying to reach that next high and intense story beat without actually earning it.

C. The Egg / Eggpire This is a pretty minor note since I was only invested in the Egg storyline for a little bit, but god it's so underused that it's almost embarrassing. Bad has provided this super interesting antagonistic force that's infecting the SMP, can control people, and who one of our main character is immune to, and it's just never used or even talked about again? Now I understand if he wanted to keep it to a side storyline only, however, to introduce this borderline eldritch creature and force within the world and then never have it dealt with is so weird.

D. The Writing Oh boy this is. kinda a big one. Now I'm not gonna lie, it's pretty obvious I have a bias for the Wilbur writing over the current team [that consisting of Dream, Quackity, and Tommy mostly]. I don't this his writing is perfect by any means, the characters constantly bringing up traitors got obnoxious after a while, and writing Hamilton but in Minecraft really isn't the modern Shakespeare or anything. However, I think his exploration of characters and plot progression was a lot more thought out and well planned, like he actually had two brain cells behind the story yknow? The current team I think fails to be as emotional or even impactful, things happened too fast and my god was everything drowned in angst for so long.

Don't get me wrong, you gotta have your characters face hardships to make them reach their goal believable, but some of the shit they put the characters through just felt like too much. From c!Tubbo's constant comparison to c!Schlatt [who btw, fucking ordered his death and kept him from his friends in a nation he felt trapped in] and on a side note, i kinda really fucking dislike the "c!Schlatt dad!!" au's or the au's where c!Tubbo inherits some of Schlatt's features, it would be like c!Tommy getting a c!Dream mask after his exile, it's feels so weird yet people eat that shit up for some reason.

But god, did c!Tommy get the brunt of it all and in retrospect after his final death, it kinda feels really fucking gross. Now obviously, I'm not trusting any of these people to write decent mental health representation, but c!Tommy's PTSD and how it was explored was just degrading. [Specifically the scene in that one Techno stream where he saw the final control room from the first war, and had a flashback / panic attack where he started calling out for c!Dream. I understand this is an actual thing people with PTSD will experience, but it felt so fucking stereotypical it got on my nerves. I actually had to close out of the stream because it made me feel sick, fiction shouldn't leave you feeling that way.] And don't get me started on how they basically reused the formula from the previous arc. [Problem introduced -> Tensions rise as things start to fall apart -> Big confrontation -> Exile -> Return from Exile -> Blowing up L'Manberg, again.]

And speaking of characters-

E. Character Arcs, or the lack of them In my genuine opinion, some of these characters' arcs are so disappointing. Especially c!Tommy's. I'm not one to believe that he was a "selfish" character or anything, however, his goals were simply set on his discs and maybe c!Tubbo, he didn't have much outside that. However, L'Manberg gave him something to care about, he gave up his discs for it and he fought for it tooth and nail, I think it taught him to open up to others and trust more. It was a great character arc for him to have, seeing him still fight even after his first exile alongside c!Wilbur, to return safely to the nation that he and his found family had built.

But then his second exile happened, and I feel like all of that was undone.

c!Tommy's exile genuinely pisses me off for so many reasons. It's not that characters can't have their low points after reaching a major change or feeling like they've "completed" their arcs or anything, but it's more of the fact that it seems like he's never going to heal that feels like a spit in the face, especially to people who might have had setbacks like that before. Progress isn't linear, sometimes things happen and you get knocked back down, it can take a while to get back up, but I don't think c!Tommy's character is ever going to be allowed to get back up. From c!Dream, who pretty much was a constant abuser in his life, killing him then reviving him, and his still fractured relationship with c!Tubbo, which by the way I have a had time believing they would still be friends after all that happened, it feels like he can never get a win and it's generally kinda a shit way to treat your characters who have been abused. Of course, not all abused characters are going to get happy endings, I'm not trying to dictate that they all should, but c!Tommy deserves one and the fact that it's so obscure feels shitty.

Side note: we still don't have a canon reason to give a shit abt the discs. Like I'm sorry but without some sorta connection to the MacGuffin why should we give a shit about him getting them other than "he wants them lol". Like hell, I would even accept the classic "they were the last gifts from his parents" or something, but we still don't have a reason.

c!Tubbo also lacks a fulfilling arc as well, from someone who started out as a yes man, he has progressed a bit into having his own interests first, but besides that sometimes his character makes me so. depressed. He's easily one of the most pushed around and hated characters within the story, all for being a kid who didn't know what to do and he's in the same vein as c!Tommy; these kids can't get a break. Also, his anti-violence beliefs morphing into the "lets kill c!Techno lol!" bit was so out of place and without proper build-up it was like. what. And now he's building nukes?? god c!Tubbo makes me so sad because he's kicked around constantly and never given a chance to grow.

Another small note, I also don't really enjoy c!Techno at all. Besides the previously stated reasons of lack of emotions when they're really needed, I find his character to be weirdly pretentious. He talks as if he's constantly been betrayed and hurt but I personally, don't see it? Like, I think one of the main examples was the Pogtopia vs. Manberg war, yknow he wanted to end the government but they just reinstated it after they won = c!Techno upset. But this doesn't make sense to me because why did he think otherwise? The entire time c!Tommy had talked about taking back their nation and starting again, so the fact that c!Techno suddenly thought there would be a sudden change is, to put it bluntly, kinda fucking stupid. I don't want to say that he "plays the victim" or anything because that feels a bit harsh, but his character feels so far up his own ass that I can't enjoy him.

I have a major grip with c!Dream as well, but that's getting it's own fucking section.

F. L'Manberg This is a quick note before we get into the, forgive me for this, endgame, of this entire rant, since the next two sections are tied together. But god, L'Manberg makes me upset because it feels like they gave up on it.

Don't get me wrong, I understand that it is supposed to be c!Wilbur's "unfinished symphony", the thing that destroyed a once charismatic and widely loved man, his attempt at power that utterly ruined him. But the fact that it just got blown up in the end after everything and left to rot felt like such a waste of time. From the first war, to Pogtopia, to even c!Tommy's exile, it all felt fucking worthless in the end, and the story is actively closer to how it was when it started now more than ever. I wished it was actually allowed to exist and continue to be a peaceful place in what is a chaotic world, but no it was just snuffed out because why dedicate to this concept of finding others you can band together with and feel safe. fuck that noise apparently?

G. The Villains Now villain-wise, I'm only talking about c!Dream [during the first war], c!Schlatt, and c!Wilbur. And believe it or not, this is actually mostly positive.

Now I'm not gonna lie, c!Dream as a staring antagonist wasn't bad actually, he posed a genuine and threatening opposition to L'Manberg, even if we didn't know his real intentions or motivations as to why he was against it. He's lucky in this sense because he didn't have to be good, he had to be passable. If anything, he felt more like an anti-hero than a tyrant or traditional villain, and my god do I wish he kept this theme going forward.

Now quick disclaimer, I don't like JSchlatt as much as the next guy, he's an adult man who should know better than to joke about some sensitive topics and act the way that he does. But the one thing I'll ever give him is that damn, was he a good actor for his character.

Now here's the thing, c!Schlatt wasn't particularly deep at all. He had no real motivations behind his exile of c!Wilbur and c!Tommy other than getting competition out of the way, had no reason to act the way that he did and yknow? that's fine. The reason why he worked was from his performance alone, he was actually intimidating. When he came onto the stream and was doing his typical bad guy stuff, it was actually intense to see what he would do. Whenever he would almost catch c!Tommy back in Manberg, whenever he would begin to pressure c!Tubbo, it put you on the edge of your seat and it felt like everything would change at the drop of a pen. He's a villain to be a villain, and this works out because he's just charismatic and well put together enough to make it interesting, even without the backstory or motives.

c!Wilbur however, is much more tragic, and the best villain of the story. He essentially was the "mentor turned evil" trope and it felt terrible watching him descend into madness, unable to trust barely anyone except for c!Techno and c!Tommy. Hell, in the end I think he still cared about them both, despite losing everything. Sure, he blew up L'Manberg, but there was still a smidge of the old c!Wilbur in there made everything he did feel melancholic. His death at the hands of his father after achieving his final wish was chilling, and something I still think about.

Until yknow, Ghostbur came back way too soon to let people feel his loss as a character within that world. And then he got revived, pretty much-undoing everything that moment meant for his character lol.

And then there's the worst one:

H. Dream. I'm going to be completely honest, c!Dream is one of the main reasons why I dislike the current dsmp stuff so much. Outside of his actions as a person, the way Dream decided to write his character as this overpowered madman of the dsmp really just. destroyed any intrigue that he could've had. Perhaps this is from my growing dislike towards him, manifesting into a bias towards his character, but god I cannot fathom why people try to insist he's interesting when he has as much depth as a fucking puddle.

And here's the thing, I'm not even entirely against c!Dream being a villain, hell I think he would've been great as an anti-hero if anything. Make him sympathetic but not through c!George to get your precious "DNF" points or anything, but show him actually caring about the people within the dsmp, including c!Tommy and c!Tubbo. This would make his rival status with them just a bit more complicated, sure they're enemies, however, he doesn't want to hurt or kill them, and there's still a level of friendship there that keeps them bonded when things get super bad. This could've been super interesting to see, the first villain of the story receiving a sorta redemption arc then descending into madness as he started to fixate on being a god. This is all how I feel personally, but god do I feel like it would've been better than his current character, and hell would've worked with how he was during the Pogtopia arc, before the war that is. I'm not trying to tell Dream how to write his own character, but there are so many other ways he could've done the madman seeking to become god rather then. whatever the hell we got.

Because instead, we got this power-mad asshole who does things... because he can? And that's one of my major issues: he tries to surround his character in mystery to make him "intriguing" but it's kinda like c!Techno, it comes off as pretentious. Not only that, but you cannot keep waving around this mystery of a backstory without ever actually revealing it. I know the story isn't over, but c!Dream is effectively at his lowest point, now would be the time to reveal his backstory. But no just keep it in the dark and keep everyone guessing, that's totally fun and not at all tiring and annoying. (sarcasm, if anyone needs it)

And back to his performance, he doesn't sell this aloof, cynical and strategic warrior that has perfected the blade or some shit, he comes off as some angry guy yelling on reddit. which i don't need to tell you, isn't intimidating. It feels like he's trying to have c!Schlatt's intimidation combined with c!Wilbur's depth, but instead he's like a little brother who's trying to hard to mimic his older brother and is kinda embarrassing himself.

but other then that i dont feel too strongly abt the dsmp lol

but seriously, these are the main complaints I have abt the story tbh, I could probably talk about more but I wont because man. this is probably gonna get me in trouble if any of the hyper-dsmp fans actually read it.

#wow this is long #txt #anti dsmp #anti dream #dsmp crit #dsmp critical #yeah im tagging it i dont give a shit #dream crit #dream critical #the story is shit yo!

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Pink lady

Note - For the lovely @lielullabyes 500 followers challenge! Congrats babe🥰🥰

And for @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18s challenge and birthday! I'm sorry I'm a bit late! Hope y'all like it❤❤

Summary - You try to convince your professor to give you a better grade.

Warnings - smut, age gap, professor/student relationship, deep throating, cock warming.

Prompts - professor!character x student!reader for snow

Gif prompt + your professor has a different kind of extra credit in mind for navy and siri

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - almost 4k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You closed your eyes rubbing them to sooth the dryness. You had a long day and getting anything through your thick skull was turning out to be a challenge.

Of course it would. You were never an amazing student. You just studied the night before the exam and cramped whatever you could, writing what you remember on the test the next day. And yeah it wasn’t the most ideal way to study but it had worked so far for you. You got by alright.

It was more of all the shitty professors you’ve ever had than your fault. None of them could ever get you really interested in their subjects. They either didn’t care enough or only knew how to abuse their power.

But then he walked into your class. He was pretty enough to be a model or an actor. You just assumed he was someone famous. You felt as if you’ve met him before, as if you’ve known him your whole life. You were shocked to hear he was your new criminology professor, along with being a DA. Which has to be a demanding job.

It was impossible to not listen to him when he spoke, his voice so smooth like honey, carrying hints of a Boston accent he let slip whenever he got too passionate, which was quiet often.

He had broad shoulders and thick biceps he hit under those expensive suits and dress shirts. But it was more than that. He acted as if he cared. About his students, about the things he was teaching you. He always encouraged questions and helped everyone with their doubts. He had you on the edge of your seat with every word he said.

He even knew all the students by their names. Well... everyone except you.

You never interacted much in your classes, too afraid to make a fool of yourself in front of your dream man. So you had decided to buckle down and study as much as you can so you can finally raise your hand when he asked a question. How amazing it would be to hear him say ‘Good job' to you.

Maybe it isn’t classy to harbor such sinful thoughts about your professor. But the way his pants stretched over his round butt, hugging his long legs and creasing as he leaned against the edge of his table, his thick dark beard framing his face so perfectly, was just so mesmerizing. He was sex on legs. Were you really to blame here?

You had made sure to get to class ten minutes early so you could sit on the first bench. To get a close up look at the show. He was talking about something, you couldn’t really focus on. Your eyes stuck to his crotch, and how you could clearly see the imprint of his...

“Shit” You whispered as you heard him call out your surname, suddenly realising that he had his eyes on you.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“Wh – I – don’t really think a lot.” You stammered “I’m sorry what was the question?” You cringed at yourself.

“Try to pay attention next time.” He scolded you as you cowered under his intense gaze, his lips set in a hard line as he went back to addressing the whole class and resuming his lecture.

He didn’t even spare a look at you the rest of the class. You had to keep your tears at bay. It would’ve been better if you were invisible to him. Anything would be better than being publicly humiliated like that.

You decided then and there that you don’t like him. Sure you weren’t paying attention but how dare he point that out? He would never do that to anyone else. What the fuck did he have against you.

Nope. You were going to hate him now and bear him till the end of the semester. But then, all your resolve went out the window as soon as he turned around to write something on the board, giving everyone a nice view of his 'cute bubble butt'. At least that’s what you heard someone else call it. Although the kind of feelings it gave you were anything but cute.

After two long torturous hours the class was dismissed. You scrambled to pack up your bag. You were about to leave your, but body stopped of its own accord when you heard him call out your surname again. Sending shivers down your spine. You took a deep breathe turning around to look at him, your mouth suddenly dry and your hands clammy and sweaty.

“Yes professor Barber?” You asked as you stood a few feet away from him, staring at his shoes as if they were the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. You could not look at his face. You would melt on spot and make an idiot of yourself, again.

You cursed as he walked towards you standing just in front. You had never been so close to him before, you could smell his musky cologne, feel his hot breath on your forehead.

“Don’t you think it’s rude to not look at your professor when speaking to him?” He asked cocking his head.

He couldn’t but feel proud and satisfied as you complied so easily, looking up at him. The tip of your tongue peaked out to lick your lip before your lower lip was caught in your teeth as you chewed harshly on it. A very distracting habit of yours. He really had to resist the urge to groan.

He wondered if you knew you were so cruelly teasing him or if you were as oblivious as you seemed to be.

He was excited when he was offered a position to be a teacher, a chance to shape young minds. To make a larger difference in the world. He stayed up all night preparing for his first lecture. He was always thorough with his work. He had made up his mind to do his best and be a good teacher.

But he knew he was ruined as soon as his eyes landed on you.

He wasn’t one for making friends. Always having trouble trusting people. Especially in his profession. It wasn’t that he was shy. He hated small talk and just didn’t have a lot to say, unless he was in a courtroom, even if he did he wasn’t always sure how he should say it.

But when he and his colleagues had a win on a particularly hard case, bringing down a huge mob after working tirelessly for over 3 months, he agreed to go out for drinks to celebrate. He did need to wind down a bit. When he wasn’t at the office he was at home either working or sleeping.

He was sitting on the bar stool with Henry the paralegal he had come to like the guy. He had been a huge help with the case. Henry was going on about his daughters biology project when Andy felt a tap on his shoulder he looked over his shoulder before turning around to get a proper you.

There you stood, leaning against the bar with a dopey grin on your face. He couldn’t help but do you a once over, looking you up and down, you were wearing a hot pink dress that hugged your waist before flaring over your hips. He smiled at your cute kitten heels with small white bows on them. You looked so beautiful, your hair tied up in a high ponytail as curls framed your sweet face.

“Hello mister businessman mister!” You giggled before covering your mouth as you let out a hiccup. “Oops excuse me.”

“I’m not a businessman.” He smiled shaking his head.

“Well you sure do look like one!” you laughed weakly punching his bicep “Oh my gosh” You gulped pressing his bicep in your palm “You must work out.”

“I dabble here and there.” He said waving it off as if it wasn’t a big deal “Can I buy you a drink? Are you old enough to be here?” He wondered.

“I’ll have you know I’m more than old enough” You said proudly. Normally, he would never even consider flirting with someone who looked so young, but for some reason he just couldn’t stop. “Yes I will have a drink. Wait no! No I won’t!” You gasped.

“That’s probably a good idea. You seemed to have had plenty. How about a coffee?” He offered.

“Nope I’m fine. I’m here for my friend Stacey. She likes you.” You drawled out moving your hips side to side dancing to a tune stuck in your head.

“And you don’t like me?” He pouted.

“Noooo” You whined cupping his beard in your hands. He kept pouting to milk some more sympathy from you but was completely taken aback when you pressed your soft cushiony lips over his. You pulled back staring into his eyes and said “I like you a lot! But sisters before misters you know. I couldn’t do that to my friend.” And now you were the one pouting.

He heard Henry clear his throat behind him “I’ll just go on home then. See you tomorrow man.” Andy couldn’t be bothered to turn around to say goodbye, his eyes completely focused on you.

“Oh no your friend left. Whatever you’re going home with Stacey anyway.” You looked around for your friend “Where is she? Oh no! She’s not here.”

Andy frowned looking around the bar with you “Don’t worry she must be in the bathroom or something. Why don’t you try calling her?”

You whipped out your phone from your bag. Your lips starting quivering and eyes turned glossy as you looked at it. “Hey what happened?” His instincts screaming at him to sooth your panic state. He just ran his hand up and down your forearm, there wasn’t much else he could do without seeming like a creep.

“My friend left! She said she went home with a wall street guy. Left me all alone.”

He frowned at that. “Your friend doesn’t deserve you.” He stated as if he knew you. He didn’t but he knew how loyal you were to your friend when you turned him down. Who would abandon such a sweet thing like you?

“And we were gonna go to dinner and everything.” You sniffled “I’ll have to walk home now.”

“No you won’t.” He blurted clenching his jaw. He knew just how bad men could be. He would never let a clearly inebriated woman go home alone.

Sure in any other case he would’ve called or even paid for an taxi. But he couldn’t say goodbye to you just yet. So he offered to take you home. And with some convincing you agreed.

He secured you into the passenger seat before putting your address in the GPS. He found himself laughing more than he ever had at your incoherent drunken ramblings.

“Do you believe in aliens?” Before he could even answer you continued “What if this is all just a simulation. By aliens. Like what if we’re in a tv show. That’d be awesome.” You leaned against the window, closing your eyes.

“Are you this funny when you’re sober?” He wanted to know. Although he had an inkling that you definitely would be.

“Yes I am! But my friends tell me I talk too much.” You said scrunching up your nose.

“I could listen to you talk all night. But I think we’re here.” He said parking across a building. “is this it?”

“Yeah” You nodded. “You’re right dude. They don’t deserve me.”

“Don’t call me dude.” He grumbled. You call your friends ‘dude’. And he had no intentions of being just a friend to you.

“Fine dude” You chuckled. “Do you have a pen?” You asked.

“Uh I think” He felt his pockets and then pulled out a fountain pen he always carried around with him.

You took it from him and shook your head. “You business men and your pens” You snatched his arm and started writing something on his palm.

“I keep telling you I’m not a business man.” He argued.

His heart swelled with giddiness as he saw you write down numbers on his open palm.

“Call me if you wanna hear me talk some more, ‘night.” You struggled to open the door before stumbling out. He made sure you got inside your building safely before he entered your number in his phone. He didn’t ask your name, too caught up in your rant about women’s jeans not having pockets. So he just saved it as ‘pink lady’.

He was so excited to hear from you again that he called you the next morning. Only you had given him the wrong number. He didn’t know if it was a mistake or if you had just lead him on. He considered maybe ‘accidentally’ bumping into you near your apartment. But then he saw you. In his class, as his student.

You didn’t seem to remember him but obviously had a crush on him. You weren’t such a confident talker without the influence of alcohol, the one time he asked you what your name was you just replied with ‘I’ve never had one.’ Which was adorable but also infuriating.

Was he so damn forgettable? How did you manage to do such a number on him, so much so that you haunted his wet dreams, but you had completely forgotten about him and the whole encounter. Going about your merry life, your mind not plagued with such unprofessional and unethical thoughts.

He wanted to know you. To hear you ramble some more or be awkward. Literally anything but the cold shoulder you were giving him. So he did a bad thing. He called you out when you were clearly too busy ogling him. He revelled in the sick pleasure he got from embarrassing you.

“Why don’t we go talk in my office?” He suggested and collected his books without waiting for your answer. You both made your way over to his office, you following a few steps behind him. “After you.” He said as he held the door open for you.

He locked the little latch as he closed the door, instructing you to take a seat. He wasn’t sure why he had called you over. It wasn’t like he could actually act on his feelings. Or ask you if you remembered him at all. It would be out of the question. He would get fired from the university, his reputation would be tarnished.

He took a seat at his desk shuffling through the papers in his drawer and brought one out on the desk.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he took in your demure state. How you had made yourself so small across him. He decided then. He couldn’t possibly not do anything about his feelings. Once his mind was set on something he HAS to have it.

Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to simply bend you over the desk and take you in the most primal way possible. But he could wait. In just a few months you would graduate and he would ask you out. There was a possibility that you would turn him down. Again. But he’d take his chances and get what he wanted. He always did.

“Your grades aren’t doing so well Miss L/N” He said passing the paper over to you. “It’s a C. You barely passed. If you don’t get a B or up in your next exam you won’t pass my class.” As much as he loved seeing you everyday he needed you to graduate so he could have his way with you.

“Oh” You let out as you looked at the test.

“That’s all you have to say? What’s wrong? Do you not understand my teaching?” To which you shook your head no “Maybe you should focus on your studies before going to clubs and getting drunk.” He spit leaning back in his chair. He knew he was being harsh, but he also knew that you needed some tough love.

“I – clubs?” You looked up at him and frowned “I don’t go to clubs! How would you know anyway?”

“Oh so you don’t remember.” He sneered not taking too kindly to being forgotten so easily. “January’s last Thursday. You were wearing a pink dress.”

You looked as if you were in deep thought before your eyes widened almost popping out of their sockets. “Oh my god! You’re that business man!” You gasped.

“Listen closely. Because I won’t say it again. I’m not a business man. I’m a district attorney and your professor.” He said sternly as he threw his head back loosening his tie so frustrated with you. He’d have to be patient. Something he very obviously wasn’t. It’s alright. You were worth waiting for.

“Sorry” You mumbled half heartedly. You knew you remembered him from somewhere. You thought you had dreamt of meeting a handsome and charming business man. Apparently you were wrong. “Why am I here professor Barber?” You asked.

“I told you. You need to get your grades up.”

“Yeah but I’m sure many other students must’ve gotten a C or lower as well. Why are you so concerned with me? What’s so special about me?” You spit with an accusatory tone.

“I care about all my students.” It wasn’t a lie. He did. He just cared about you a little bit more.

“Uh – huh. Then why did you lock the door?”

“I didn’t want anyone to disturb us.” He cleared his throat as he sat up straight in his seat.

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Why? What are you gonna do about it?” You asked before exaggeratedly rolling them again.

He scoffed “You’re such a brat.” He shook his head. “I’ll have you straightened up in less than a week when you’re mine.”

You hummed at that. “In your dreams old man.”

“You’ll see sweetheart. I just have to wait till June.”

“Well how about you can have a little taste now? I can give you something if you can change my grade.” You offered biting your lips again.

He groaned at the tempting offer and sight “There’s nothing you can give me that will change my mind.”

“Isn’t there?” You got up and walked around the desk to him, exaggeratedly swaying your hips.

He moved in his chair to look at you kneeling between his legs. Rubbing your hands on his thighs.

“I’m sure I can change your mind.” You said confidently as you undid his buckle and pulled down his zipper.

“I doubt it.” A thought of maybe stopping you as you took his hard cock out of his briefs came to him. But then you looked at his length with such awe, as if you were admiring it.

“You like it?” He smirked.

You could only nod your head and try your best to not drool. “It’s the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” You admitted. It was also the biggest, his rosy mushroom head slippery with precum, couple of blue veins adorning his thick shaft. You could wait to suck the life out of him.

“How many dicks have you seen?” He frowned. He didn’t really liking you thinking about anyone else’s dick, not when his was right in front of you. “Never mind. Finish what you started.” His impatience took over him as he pushed your head down, forcing you to open your mouth and swallow him whole. He moaned at the feeling of your warm wet mouth wrapped around him. “Relax your throat.” He ordered as he pushed deeper into you.

Sighing deeply as his tip hit the back of your throat, groaning as you choked around him before swallowing. “That’s it good girl.” He praised caressing your jaw. Rubbing away the tears cascading down your cheeks.

He pulled some papers out of his bag as your raised your brows at him. “I need to get some work done sweetheart.” He shifted his hips to sit back on his chair. “How about you keep me warm till then?” He said as you whined “What? Do you have other plans?”

You shook your head as he muttered a “Good” And started going through his paperwork. “You can swallow honey. But that’s all you can do. Don’t you dare move.” He warned.

It was proving to be quiet a task. He couldn’t really focus on anything but your mouth and how he wanted to just fuck it and you stupid. But he was teaching you a lesson. He had to wait a while before he came down your throat. Besides this would give him an opportunity to really savor the feel of you.

You laid your head on his thigh as he flipped through his papers for the next half an hour. Suckling here and there to not mess up his pants. When you realised that he might be interested in you, even just a little. You hoped he would just take you, make your dreams come true. You had no idea what the fuck this shit about waiting was. But you were too afraid to say no to him.

He haphazardly put down his pen. Releasing a shaky breath he finally took hold of your head. Rolling his hips a little, he pulled his length out and pushed it back in. Setting a slow and steady pace, knowing that he’d come all too soon.

You moaned as his hand went down to cup your breast fondling it so gently. He lost it as he felt the little vibrations “Do it again” He demanded as you moaned around his length. He held onto the back of your throat driving his hips up a couple of times before spilling in your throat. “Swallow it all.” He ordered as he pulled out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’.

He groaned as he as your throat swallow a gulp “Clean me up. I have to go to work.” He pushed his tip against your lips as your tongue peaked out and licked what you couldn’t swallow and your spit off of him. You gave his tip a last kiss before tucking him back in his pants.

You stood up on wobbly feet, straightening the wrinkles in your dress. You went over to your chair cleaning your mouth up with a hanky Professor offered. “So you’ll change my grade now?” You pushed your test towards him.

He laughed “We never agreed to that sweetheart.”

“But I – but we – but I just!”

He shushed you putting his papers back in his bag “That would be unethical. You’ll be coming to my house for lessons. We have to make sure you graduate. Are you free tonight?” He looked up as you nodded “Good. Then we’ll decide if you’re worthy of a reward.” He pulled his laptop bag over his shoulder as he walked towards the door, unlatching it and holding it open for you. “I’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and feedback are appreciated! ❤❤

Beautiful dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#shamelesshoesforchris #snowswritingchallenge #andy barber #andy barber x oc #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy x reader #chris x reader

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

Interdimensional Moms part 2

Part 1 <-

Yang:Okay Weiss, your turn.

Weiss:What!? Why me?

Blake:Because you’ve been bouncing in your seat all through Yang’s story. You clearly want to gush about your kids.

Weiss:Pffft, What!? Nooooo, a little. Hehehe I can’t believe I’m that obvious. *smiles*

Ruby:Aww look at you, I never believe Weiss Schnee could look as warm as campfire.

Yang:And wearing mom jeans!? Little jealous that you still look completely gorgeous. Why does mom energy make you prettier?

Weiss:What can I say? I’m great. As far as my universe goes, I argue that I’m the strongest mom!

Blake:Such a bold claim.

Weiss:I carried twins! *points to self* this body handled two buns in the oven!

Ruby:Couldn’t be me. *shutters* I’d sooner loose an eye. Speaking of eyes, your scar has a friend. Got this whole upside down cross basically.

Weiss:Oh that? That’s uhhhh- how would I even explain this?

Yang:And your hair! It’s short!

Ruby:Yeah you’re just a surprise all over.

Blake:Guys, let her start from the beginning!

Ruby and Yang:Oh right. *covers mouths*

Weiss:(Yep, they’re the same sisters anywhere.) Thank you Blake. Now then...a good starting place? Well I suppose I could lay the ground work of Jaune and I getting better acquainted. It was about two weeks into reaching Atlas. Winter learned I got impaled and berated me not giving any kind of thanks. Since I had waited so long to do so, words wouldn’t do for her standards and she made me take him to a proper dinner. I think it was that night we actually talked openly to each other. A piece of me was annoyed at first because I thought he’d get the wrong idea again. But...he didn’t. He was just happy to spend time with me. That’s when I realized he had changed a bit *red* and apparently I changed too. Sigh, because that annoyed feeling was actually me forming a crush.

Blake:Looks like you changed more than he did. I think we can all agree that we’re pretty rough to deal with at Beacon in the beginning?

Yang:Hell yeah!

Ruby:Preach! Hehe, but it meant you grew the most too.

Weiss:Hey! You’re all assuming that I was terrible! Who knows, I could a Saint compared to your Weiss. Maybe I was a sweetheart at Beacon.

RBY:.....

Yang:Were you?

Weiss:*red* I’ll never tell.

Blake:(That’s just a no...) Two weeks into Atlas huh? I bet feelings raged whenever the whole place was under attack huh?

Weiss:W...What attack? Barely anything happened in Atlas.

Blake:Excuse me?

Ruby:Pfft what? You’re joking right? There wasn’t any threat of things falling out the sky or war threats?

Weiss:No? We showed up, put the relic in vault, and took time fortifying things while planning with Ironwood. The most exciting thing was a grimm wave and two of Salem’s goons showing up at a ball, but we handled that.

Ruby:....I...that’s...oh my head.

Blake:So what you’re saying is time in Atlas was a piece of cake?

Weiss:Well I had to deal with my father and and a lot of other family drama so I wouldn’t say it was cake. It was actually very stressful.

Yang:Well I think we found the massive shift between worlds. Atlas was different. I would say I dealt with anything like falling kingdoms. Atlas for me was one long Mission Impossible sequence. Espionage, jail break, fake deaths, but please continue with your love story.

Weiss:You sound a little envious. Anyways there isn’t too much of anything to tell in that part. Dates, fighting together, sibling healing, I was disowned publicly, Penny was being amazing-

Blake:You were disowned?

Ruby:(Penny is...alive? Huh, well, imagine that?) .....

Yang:*whispers* You okay Rubes?

Ruby:Yeah, processing. Hey Weiss? Not to control the narrative or anything, but how is your Ruby exactly? I get the feeling she’s quite different from me somehow if things like the adventure in Atlas are different.

Weiss rubbed her chin. She could tell the Ruby in front of her was pretty perplexed by the differences so far. In fact, Weiss could tell mentioning Penny made them all flinch a little. It was safe to assume they all hadn’t heard that name in a very long time. It made her feel a little bad. Did she somehow get a more ideal world?

Weiss:I think I might be able to answer that if you could humor me by getting a little further into my world’s reality? I don’t know how but I do get a since the two of you might have a key difference.

Ruby:I’m all ears.

Weiss: Blake, I’ll circle back to being disowned a little later. It’s one of the biggest reasons I am who I am now. Let’s see now, ah, the plan. After Atlas was infiltrated it was hard to save face to the rest of Remnant. That was until the world learned about Salem. It was a secret that was doing more harm than good at this point. On that day, our journey really began for us. Team RWBY wasn’t just four girls and their friends. It was one of four four girls commanding troops, organizing meetings, rallying others. We were the face of a revolution: along with JNPR of course.

Ruby:The world just...believed in Salem?

Weiss:There were plenty skeptics, but it’s harder not to believe it. Pen- our winter maiden, showed off magic. Then the others on our side followed the example. We had two relics to show off from the start, and a variety of ways to explain questions throughout history that nobody could answer before. We gave humanity’s suffering a face. People were more than eager to cling to it. From that point it was hard for Salem to make a move that wouldn’t give further validity to our story.

Ruby:An army huh, lead by us?

Weiss:Yep, mainly you when it came to the battlefield. You were anxious at first and definitely made moves that you regretted. But...after some time and experience, you stood tall in front of dozens to give a speech the night of the final battle. I still get chills. There wasn’t an eye that wasn’t on you. A person who didn’t want to march into battle with you. I don’t think I ever seen you more sure of where you were meant to be.

Ruby:Is that so? Hmm, I think...I think I get it now. Your Ruby must’ve stumbled quite a bit, but had people by her consistently. It was other’s strength that enabled her to get stronger. How old was she when the war was over?

Weiss:It ended on her twenty first birthday.

Ruby:Makes sense. An army isn’t made in a day. Plans and caution for everyone involved. A united force like that sounds like a thing Oz dreamed of.

Weiss:Actually, it was. My world beat Salem by gaining the relics. The gods witnessed the effort the world put in and stripped her of immortality. It was actually thanks to you that Salem went peacefully. Instead of damning her to a cruel fate, the gods let her pass on to her kids per your request. After that, gods and magic came back. Both are still mysterious. The gods are hard to find and there’s only one person born with magic so far.

Yang:Magic is a thing there!? That’s so unfair! Just imagine me with more fire!?

Weiss:Like you need it!? You’re already like a generator. Life after Salem wasn’t any calmer really. Terrifying grimm lurked where their could, an entire new way of life had been dropped on society, and even the world itself seemed to react. Weather has been more intense as of late. There was a lot things to keep people busy. Ruby being her usual self, started hunting. Blake used the momentum of faunus and humans working together to further her equality agenda, and Yang helped both of you out.

Yang:Look at me! I’m a great girlfriend and sister!

Blake:*mumbles* There at least.

Weiss:Yeah. Oscar and Penny decided to embarrass more of normal lifestyle, mostly. Penny went back to being protector of Mantle, but had way more free time to be a normal girl. Both of them had gotten really close over the years and eventually married.

Ruby:*wide eyed* Awwww, good for them! I always had a feeling those two would hit it off.

Weiss:They weren’t the only ones. You may have been busy, but you always made time for Whitley. The two of you were dating since our original trip to Atlas. There wasn’t a problem that either of you didn’t come to me for. You know hard it is to navigate other people’s relationships when you’re lost in your own? The blind was leading the blind. Worked out though. You were probably the prettiest bride out of all of us. Then again, you went ours and literally took notes.

Ruby:Hehe, that sounds exactly like something I’d do. You haven’t talked much about the charmed life after the war for you.

Weiss felt her face heat up. She placed her head on the table as if she gave up on something.

Yang:Yeah! Give us the scoop!

Weiss:Charmed isn’t what I’d call my life exactly. I was disowned, completely cut off. Even though I made my own mark in history, it’s not like people were gonna roll out red carpets. The world had to rebuild, and I needed a roof over my head. Thus began the modest life of Weiss Schnee, owner of a two bedroom Argus apartment. Fancy clothes a food were no more. Just clearance sales and two for one. Honestly, I didn’t hate. But that’s mainly because I wasn’t living alone.

Blake:Jaune?

Weiss:Living back home was just as unappealing for him as it was for me. That and the fact that I couldn’t cook for shit was concerning, to say the least. Moving in and splitting rent just made sense. We weren’t dating yet technically, but.....it didn’t take long for the relationship between us to...expand.

Yang:I cannot believe a Weiss Schnee finally caved to tall blonde and scraggly. I should be jealous, but I’m strangely proud of Jaune’s achievement. It’s like the first time I lost to him. I was upset, but man did he work for that win.

Weiss:Took about a month before all of you had learned just what the living situation was like and man did you three let the teasing begin? *smiles* it was fun though. If I had to wrong about something then I’m glad it was about me not thinking a person is reliable. Especially since they’ve bailed me out of trouble many times. Normal life had its pitfalls. We were constantly working to pay rent. Sometimes one of us had to work harder. Getting sick was disastrous, of long term assignments. What’s the relationship I have with Whitley in the other worlds?

Ruby:Casual. The two of are always throwing ideas back and forth to help the company.

Blake:The two of you are fine. I’m not too sure how much you actually hang out, but you both are pretty snarky whenever you’re together.

Yang:Thick as thieves. That man was always shifting money and finding sneaky ways to let us know when important things popped up.

Weiss:Good, that’s really good. *exhales* I can’t count the times he sent money without father knowing. I’m glad we reconnected. Without his and everyone’s help, I don’t think I would’ve managed. Especially when mom died...

Ruby:Oh. I...I’m sorry to hear that.

Weiss:It’s bound to happen when you drink the way she did. But yeah, didn’t handle it any easier. Between that and stressing over money, I really got overwhelmed often. I was very glad I didn’t live alone. Even if I didn’t want to talk about things, Jaune was always there to listen. I think it was around that time I realized just how in love I actually was with him. He makes me happy. That idiot must’ve known how much of a weakness I had for him. It was only a few months later that he proposed.

The simple memory of Jaune asking her under a street light on a cold yet peaceful night, made Weiss’s face a healthy shade of red. A gentle smile was all she could make thinking about it. A smile that left everyone stunned. They had never seen Weiss look so warm. So genuinely filled with love, happiness. To think she was once called Ice Queen? This one really did look like an Angel. Weiss quit daydreaming and got a little embarrassed.

Weiss:Uh, sorry! I guess I little mushy there. I’ve been told I’ve gotten pretty sappy through the years.

Blake:I think that’s beautiful.

Yang:Seriously. I’m...speechless really.

Ruby:A hardworking Weiss that struggled making ends meet. I gotta say that you look good doing it.

Weiss:Yeah well, that time has passed. My father got sick and in an attempt to “clear his conscious” or whatever he was feeling, he put me back in the family. I only saw him once when he was on his deathbed. Truthfully, I don’t visit my parent’s grave. I wanna say old emotions don’t get stirred up, but there’s certain feelings towards people that just can’t die I guess.

Yang:That’s fair. Who knows, maybe you just need a decade or two?

Weiss:Hehe, perhaps. However, before I got my fortune back, I was granted an either better one. Two in fact. That sly knight of mine managed to overachieve like he always does and give us a boy and girl.

Blake:I got a sneaking suspicion that you weren’t upset?

Weiss:Not for one second! I love my babies. My darling little Nick and Summer Schnee. One named after our grandfather, and Jaune and I are both really thankful for all that Ruby has done for us, so our daughter got named Summer. It meant a lot. My Ruby...she can’t have kids, or I should say getting and staying pregnant is extremely difficult.

Ruby:...*sniffling* These aren’t tears by the way. Just dust.

Weiss:My Ruby cried.

Ruby:Oh I bet! That’s some powerful stuff. Probably ugly cried too. Someone please say something? *misty eyed* Fuck, man that was a lot. *puts hood up* give me a sec, please keep going. *holding Yang’s hand*

Yang:Weiss, weren’t you a little scared about your living situation?

Weiss:It was a weird thing. We talked about having a family before hand. Money was always a concern, as well space; but I also knew that I did want to have a family of my own one day. So when the day came that the nurse told me I was pregnant, I should’ve been more worried. I wasn’t. All I felt was joy. Maybe it was because I had faith we could handle anything. We did have you all to help. Yang, you might as well be a superwoman honestly. You have been so amazing throughout my life.

Yang:Aye! I really love this other me.

Blake:What about me?

Weiss:You remain the most sensible person in my life and I thank you for it. Everyone else is crazy.

Blake:Yeah that’s pretty on brand. *smiles*

Ruby:Picture please?

Weiss gladly pulled out her scroll and showed off her children. It was quick to see both of them had gotten their father’s dorkiness. They stood in front of the camera playfully winking and were pretending to take a bite out the gold medals they had around their necks. It was crazy how much Summer looked like her mother, but clearly had Jaune’s eyes. Her brother on the other hand had the Schnee eyes and messy Arc hair. The two looked like barrels of fun. Then there was the man himself, Jaune Arc. He looked from the one in Yang’s photo. His hair resembled his days traveling to Haven and he was clean shaven, but he was noticeably healthier. It wasn’t even a physical thing much, though he did look good. He just seemed more vibrant.

Yang:Mine is cuter.

Weiss:Yours looks like your dad with the scruff.

Yang:Can you not?

Blake:How old?

Weiss:Sixteen. Little devils want sports car. I’m not dealing with that. Nick is really good at figure skating and is the oldest, so he’s the heir. Summer decided to be a little like her mother and pursue singing. Doesn’t have my voice though, but her range is better than me. I’m jealous. Both of them are always pretty decent in a fight if I do say so myself. Sigh, they grow up so fast. They still have a lot of growing to do though. Teenagers...

RBY:Preach...

Ruby:Everything okay though? Nothing too tough going on?

Weiss:Can I lie and say yes?

Yang:Hey I unpacked my baggage. Unload yours.

Weiss let out a large sigh. She looked at her kids lovingly, but had a smile that seemed...somber. All of her energy was brought down a bit and it showed.

Yang:Umm if it’s too much-

Weiss:It’s fine. It might be a little therapeutic to talk about it. Personally, I don’t I’m doing all I really can do. When they were very young, we all took a trip to go skating at a frozen lake. While I was there I found this strange ice dust that I’ve never seen before. Nick and Summer had gotten into a fight and by accident, Nick set off the dust. The shrapnel from it hit everyone, but Summer had it the worse. I’m talking it was lodged in her in multiple places. Not to mention the blast sent her flying into the water. I was hit so hard that I nearly blacked out. Thankfully, Jaune was the furthest and dove into the water while I managed to get Nick. He avoided a lot of it due to distance and was winded more than anything.

Ruby:Christ...

Blake:How young?

Weiss:Five. We rushed so fast to the hospital as soon as we could. The dust in Summer was freezing her until Nick activated her semblance and most of the shards got used up. Still, Summer ended up hospitalized for almost a year. Surgeries, comas, seizures; it was difficult to put it lightly. That picture doesn’t show it but she has puncture scars across her body, and a slight scar under her jawline she covers with makeup. That dust, though highly dangerous, it also healed her eventually. Summer had virtually no chance of survival. Not even counting the organ damage, that water should’ve put her into shock. But...she made a full recovery, on paper.

Yang:On paper?

Weiss:Several years later, Summer came in contact with the dust again and she...changed. Her eyes looked like mine, her light blonde hair went white, and she went mad. Her scars glowed with the dust that was still in her system and Summer started attacking everyone. I saw my twelve year old just use ice that was cold enough to burn. My extra scar is from me trying to restrain her. In the end it took my gigas pinning her down before she came to her senses. Summer had no memory of it. She said all remembered was feeling cold and hearing her own laughter. It wasn’t long after that it kept happening. Any time she got cold, this other...thing would come out. It eventually called itself Shiva.

Blake:Shiva? So...it’s a multiple personality?

Weiss:We don’t know. There’s so many inconsistencies. We got her checked up by the best and every test was normal. Her brain looks normal. But any time Shiva comes out, her blood turns blue and all she wants to do is hurt us. Shiva and Summer are even aware of each other now. There’s almost no day where Summer doesn’t hear Shiva in her head, wrestling for control. Between that, people at school who hate her, the scars, everything; Summer has become pretty reserved. She barely wants to go to school and she’s depressed most days. Nowadays she doesn’t open up about it outside of therapy. I...I can connect with her. Not in the way that matters.

Yang:I...shit, I don’t know what to say to that.

Weiss:That’s okay, few do. We’ve gotten good at preventing situations that get Summer cold but it’s through trial and error on something we know nothing about. Even with how far we’ve gotten, there’s a looming fear in everyone’s heart. Make no mistake though, that doesn’t stop any family from loving her with everything, but the mental strain of it all is more than anyone should deal with. Nick is kind soul. He blames himself for this and is constantly doing all he can to be there for everyone and put on this brave face, but he suffers inside. For a time, he went to therapy. Your sister almost killing you is a visceral experience. Getting him to sleep and take a break is like telling a fish not to swim. He is pretty open about this though, which helps a lot. It’s just...how do convince somehow they’re good enough when they think they’re not?

Ruby and Blake:You can’t....

Weiss:Exactly. It’s so...*tearing up* How am I failing at helping my kids worse than my own mother?

Yang:And that’s where I draw the line. *stands up* Now I can’t begin to fathom dealing with a a situation like this, and what I’m about to say is gonna be a little hypocritical but I really don’t care. Weiss, the last thing you are is a bad mother. I could tell immediately from the way you are that there hasn’t been a single as a parent that you haven’t made a choice without your kids in mind. I get feeling like there’s a gap that disconnects you from there; but the fact you keep your arms stretched out to bridge it makes you mother of the year in my eyes! Don’t believe for a second you’re a bad mother. Your the gold standard!

The room filled with silence for a moment. Weiss felt a lump form in her throat as she fought back tears that she eventually had to wipe away. She tried letting out a small laugh, but with it came more tears that ran down her face. Weiss couldn’t tell if it was from Yang’s words, or the stress. All she knew was that right now, she felt very thankful for being here.

Weiss:Damn it Yang, making me cry is something you’ve always been good at. Maybe that’s why I look up to you so much?

Yang:*red* Y-You what?

Weiss:My Yang, I downplayed just how much I adore her. Her daughter, Veronica, she’s got her fair share problems that stresses Yang out, but I never see her stop trying to connect with her. Even when she’s sad it’s like it’s only for a second, then you’re trying twice as hard. It’s amazing. If I’m being honest, and this is embarrassing, but I kinda picked up a mother from you. You’ve always been a bit motherly.

Ruby:She’s right.

Blake:Mom energy since day one.

Yang:Really? *rubs head* I was just being myself. Never really thought about it. Now then, wipe those tears! It’s upsetting that you look pretty why you cry. Meanwhile I look like a hot mess, and not in the fun way.

Weiss:*wiping face* Oh please, I don’t wanna hear that from someone who’s never needed make up. Those genes of your went to Veronica. Kids a genuine beauty. She’s just angry all the time.

Yang:Yeah that sounds appropriate... Weird to think I have a daughter that’s not Yujin. Wish I could see her.

Blake:Me too. Though I think I’d be overwhelmed seeing all my different kids. I’d probably want them all.

Ruby:My hands are full with ones I have and I wouldn’t say I’m juggling them well, so I don’t need other kids from universes. I’d be so stressed.

Weiss:Especially if they’re violent.

Ruby:Yeah, that would bad....

Weiss:Phew, I do feel a bit better. Even though I said all those things, my family still had good times. It’s not tense and we joke around like everyone else. As a family, we’re happy. We just have shit we gotta sort through.

Blake:Rich or poor, life has certain things that hit everyone. Is Jaune doing well.

Weiss:Yeah, he gets through to Summer pretty well, and he’s typically calm when it comes to giving guidance. He had his fears, but that’s why I’m here. We confide in each other.

Blake:May you and everyone else find a light at the end of the tunnel.

Ruby:Hey Weiss. Does....actually, never mind. Forget it.

Yang:We both know that’s not happening. Spit it out.

Ruby:I was just about Shiva. I’ve encountered weird things in my world, but this is unique. I was wondering if you have any positive experience with her.

Weiss:Not a single one. Here since of enjoyment in the displeasure of my children is a thing we disagree on. Though....her eyes, they do throw me off. For some reason, they don’t match her joy.

Blake:Maybe that part is still Summer. Eyes are the window to the soul and all that jazz.

Weiss:Maybe? I hope the kids are okay right now. I wonder what they’re up to?

xxxxx

Summer:WHAT’S UP VALE!!!!!!!!

A massive crowd screams “what’s up Summer”in excitement. Flashing lights and chanting fans’s voices make the sold out venue shake with their passion. Summer can only bask in it. There’s no better feeling than when she’s on stage. She looks to herself excitedly. This one was extra special. Nick comes out on stage with a base around him and a second microphone.

Nick:WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!!

The crowd chants louder. Summer responds by starting a rift on her guitar. She faces Nick with a smug look. Yes, having him on stage is always a joy, but that didn’t mean Summer wanted him hindering or stealing the show.

Summer:Well look who’s here!? Atlas’s favorite son! Think you’re ready to play with the kids up here. This isn’t your normal stage.

Nick smiled. He responded by playing the bass and letting the audience speak for him. Summer was chessing fool. Slowly she bopped up and down, urging him to do the same. It wasn’t long before they in sync. Drums, piano, and other background musicians began building up the tune as planned. The twins whipped around to face the crowd.

🎶Get down! We won't let you go!

This time, can you bring us down?

Back up! fly far through the sky

BLACK ROVER!

Let's go! All together now

And at last this world can't slow us down

For now, let's dye it all in black

BLACK ROVER!🎶

The two stood back to back...

🎶As more join and stand beside me,

The void doesn't feel so empty!!!!!

I know there is much more in store

Let's open that door -!🎶

Nick looked over his shoulder and saw Summer doing the same thing. This was gonna be one for the books. Jaune watched from backstage with one of the stagehands.

Stagehand:Should we tell them to save their energy? This charity event is six hours.

Jaune:Nah, let them have fun.

#rwby #rwby au #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #rwby whiteknight #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #rwby twin snowflakes #jaune arc #the void

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unmaskedagain · 5 years

Text

Marinette Vs Santa: The Final Round

Okay, so it’s 11:38 on Christmas. I promised I would post this today. So I am. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. Enjoy your present.

The jolly fat man would get his, Marinette swore. She wore a lovely gold, snowflake-embroidered cocktail dress. Her hair was done in a French side braid with voluminous Curls; more than she ever had in her entire life. Honestly, she looked like a princess.

And it would’ve been a win for her if it wasn’t for the circumstances that made it yet another Tie against Santa.

Roy has his hand on the small of her back since they step out of the limo. The forced sweet smile on her face was for the paparazzi that had waited outside the restaurant. When they got inside, and as they were shone to their table, Roy's hand slipped south.

Marinette stiffened and leaned close to Roy and whispered in his ear, “If you don’t get your hand off my butt, I’m going to take off one of my five-inch heels and slit your throat with it.”

Roy’s hand was gone in a flash, “Aww babe,” He said, a little loudly, nodding to the table where his parents’ Oliver and Dinah waited; their eyes watching the young couple’s every move. “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

Marinette giggled, as she fought the urge to slam his against a nearby table, “Not in front of your parents. It’s called manners.”

Your lucky homicide is still technically illegal, Marinette thought viciously, and a sure-fire way to get on fat bastard’s naughty list.

He wouldn’t win. No, Marinette had gone too far; been through too much to lose now.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Dinah stood once the two approached. She pulled Marinette into a hug. “I’ve tried to instill etiquette into Roy for years. His last girlfriends and he nearly in trouble for public indecency. Maybe you’ll do a better job than I did.”

Marinette laughed, “I will even if I have to cut off his hand.”

Oliver chuckled, “You’re definitely Bruce’s girl.” The resemblance was uncanny.

After that the fell into an easy conversation.

“That dress is beautiful,” Dinah said. “Who’s the designer?”

Marinette beamed, “I am. I love fashion. It’s my dream,” She explained. “I plan on launching my own company. While there’s always room to learn and enhance my designing skills, I feel as if I have that side at least somewhat covered. However, the business angle is something I need to learn. Which is why I plan on getting my MBA at an Ivy League. I was considering Yale or Princeton.”

“Princeton,” Oliver grinned. “Did you hear that Roy?” Roy rolled his eyes, and once again, regretted being born. “Marinette’s considering Princeton. That’s the top school on his list. Queens have gone there for generations.” He pulled his wife into a hug. “It’s where I knew Dinah was the one.”

Dinah gave Marinette a blank stare, “I couldn’t get rid of him. It was like having bedbugs.” (“Hey!” Oliver cried in protest.) “No matter what I did, he just coming back. The only solution was to burn the entire place down and vanish without a trace. But apparently, that’s illegal or whatever. Stupid.”

“I know, right,” Marinette nodded earnestly. “What’s up with that?”

They had a wonderful dinner. They watched a paparazzi pretending to be a waiter be escorted out of the restaurant. It was great, amazing even. Oliver and Dinah had been perfectly lovely. Roy had acted like a perfect gentleman. Marinette could’ve almost pretended she was actually meeting her boyfriend’s family. She was about to count the entire night as a win until…

“So how many grandkids should I expect in the future,” Oliver asked, a sincere look on his face, though he was snickering inside.

Marinette chocked on her chocolate mousse and ended up in a coughing fit that Dinah helped her with. Roy had met his father’s gaze and gave him his most charming smile, “Seven,” He answered.

“Seven!” Marinette barked out and she looked around frantically as if Ashton Kutcher had revived his hit show and was about to pop out.

Oh, gods; please let me be getting punked, Marinette prayed.

Oliver’s eyebrows went up, “Seven, huh, big family.”

Roy hummed, “the Wayne-Queens certainly will be.”

“You mean the Queen-Waynes,” Oliver corrected, his hackles rising.

“Well, I figured since we’d be living in Gotham,” Roy didn’t even bother to hide his smirk. “We’d go by the Wayne-Queen family. I actually found this great place not too far from Wayne Manor. Plenty of room for the kids, maybe a dog or two; a rose garden. You know how Waynes are about their roses. You can visit whenever.”

Marinette might have momentarily blacked out during this. It was how Marinette knew she had officially lost that round to Santa.

Oliver and Dinah just looked at Roy; their entire bodies stiff.

Dinah took a long drink from her wine glass, “Gotham has such a high crime rate. Have you considered Star City, Marinette?”

“I’ve never been,” Marinette said sweetly. “But I could live anywhere really. I’m pretty open.”

Roy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Yes, but I figured you’d want to spend as much time with your family as possible. Jason’s my best friend. I love Gotham. It just works. Besides Bruce Wayne would make an amazing grandpa.”

The grip Oliver had on his dessert fork made Marinette fear for Roy’s life. It was time to step in. “I suppose Robb or Thea would love a big backyard to play in.”

That got the other three’s attention.

“Robb? Thea?” Oliver whispered. His throat was dry. His brain tried to process what was said.

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But Roy and I started talking one day and well,” Marinette trailed off. A soft pink blush appeared on Marinette’s face, enhancing her overall innocent aura. She had done background on the Queen family. “Our firstborn; if it’s a boy Robb as in Robert Thomas; for your father and my grandfather. If it’s a girl, Thea Sabine; for your sister and my mother. It was Roy’s idea. He knows how much you loved them.”

It was then that Marinette got to check off one more wish off her list. It had been made as a joke in passing to Chloe and Kagami months ago. They had been having a girls’ night. When Chloe, ever prepared, asked what they wanted for Christmas. They had been watching a Justice League fight on the news. Marinette had laughed and said she wanted to show them up one day; make a superhero cry.

However, watching The Green Arrow tear up while the Black Canary comforted himself, made her think that Santa took her to wish out of context.

Roy was pulled into a big hug by his parents, and he sent her a vicious glare, and mouthed, “What did you do?”

Oliver pulled back, wiped his eyes, and said, “You know; there’s nothing like a spring wedding in Star City.”

Marinette threw down her napkin.

Fuck Santa.

The news had a field day. The picture of Marinette in her dress and Roy in his designer suit was what everyone was talking about. The women of the view talked about her outfit. Wendy Williams talked about her outfit. It was as if Marinette was living in another universe.

Nothing could bring her down.

“What the hell?” Jason asked as he picked her up for school. “Why the fuck is Roy spamming me with hate texts. Why the fuck is Oliver arguing with B over visitation rights to his grandchildren? Who the Fuck are Robb and Thea? And why the fuck is Dad asking Aquaman if Atlantis really sunk on its own, or if it had a little help?”

Marinette tiled her head, “Is Papa planning on sinking Star City? And that’s forty dollars for the swear jar.” Her parents had implements after one too many curse words were thrown around.

“Worth it!” Jason said. “And yes, I’ve positive that’s what’s going to happen. It’s gonna be amazing. Also, he’s gonna kill Roy!”

“He deserves it,” Marinette crossed her arms.

“Hey!”

“He put his hand on my butt!”

Jason paused and narrowed his eyes. “Correction. I’m gonna kill Roy.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but then she realized something. “Aren’t they’re usually two of you? Where’s the other one?” It was the routine. She was always escorted into school by two members of the Wayne family.

Jason smirked, “You’ll see.”

The paparazzi mostly screamed the usual things at her. At that point, she was used to it. It was the few changes at school that she was used to.

Damocles had been fired for bribes and severe negligence. He was replaced by Mendeleev. Bustier had been fired for her role in Marinette’s expulsion without proper procedure and basically catering to bullies while blaming the victim. She replaced by a sterner teacher name Miss Reed. She was by the book and not afraid to call in the higher-ups if something smelled fishy.

The first was any and all forms of bullying in class was no longer tolerated. The school had issued a zero-tolerance policy that the kids in Bustier’s class had felt immediately.

The second was Lila’s supposed medical history. No doctor’s note, no special treatment. It was also required that Lila present a note from her mother regarding any future absences.

The third was Adrien’s being pulled randomly out of class. CPS got involved real fast regarding child labor laws.

The days of her classmates getting away with bloody murder were over. Reed saw everything. Everything.

Alya, who had returned to class always avoided Marinette at all times. Her parents had given her the biggest talking to about respecting others’ right to privacy. Marinette had agreed to drop any legal charges against her former friend provided she adhere to the cease and desist order. The girl knew too much about Marinette. And Marinette needed to make it clear that she would bury the girl in lawsuits before she’d allowed even one-fourth of it to be made public.

Jason had walked her to class. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he went directly to the back of the class and took a seat next to Chloe. He pulled out his phone and proceeded to ignore the curious looks from the students.

The blond eyed the ripped jeans, the overly sized red flannel shirt, and the beat-up leather jacket, “Grunge died in the 90s. Like it deserved.”

Jason, not bothering to look up from his phone, “Paris Hilton said it’s cool that you plagiarized her look.”

Chloe gasped.

Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, knowing exactly how this was going to go. Chloe would not forgive this. Jason was an asshole. It would be war.

Miss Reed walked in and didn’t look twice at Jason.

Marinette narrowed her eyes; something was up.

The class went on without a hitch though until just about the end of the first period…

When Tim and a pretty, brown-haired, tanned skin, an older woman walked in the door. They looked to be having a pleasant conversation.

“Mama,” Lila gasped, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” She looked around frantically.

“Ooohhhh,” Marinette nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.” That was what was happening. Operation: Get That Bitch.

“Oh!” Tim feigned surprised. “I didn’t know your daughter was in my sister’s class, Naomi.”

Naomi had been pleasantly surprised when Tim Drake, the CEO of Wayne Industries reached out to speak to her about potential business ventures in Italy. He was in Paris visiting his sister and wanted an insider perspective on Italy’s economy and tourist information. Her bosses were thrilled. Wayne opening up a site in Italy would do wonders for the overall economic and industrial growth. Then they got to talking about a potential student exchange program that Wayne Industries were willing to fund.

What Tim hadn’t told the Ambassador was that Wayne Industries had been scouting locations in Italy for their new plant for the last ten months. All the research was done. Everything was primed to go. Still, Tim was kind enough to ensure that Naomi Rossi received the credit for getting Wayne Industries on board.

Mrs. Rossi blinked in surprise, “I had no idea either. Lila, we’re here to discuss a potential international exchange program for kids all over the world. Tim wanted to say hello to his sister. Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with Marinette Wayne?”

Marinette leaned forward in her seat. A slow smile spread across her face.

“I, well, I,” Lila struggled to say.

“We’re not the closest, Mrs. Rossi,” Marinette offered. “She’s always so busy, we haven’t had the time.”

“Ahh,” Tim snapped his fingers. “That Lila Rossi. Marinette told me all about her.” He crossed his arms. “Naomi, how was Achu? I haven’t gone yet. But from what Marinette’s told of Lila’s stories, you two go all the time. You become close to the royal family, yes?”

Coldness went down to Naomi Rossi’s spine. She stiffened. Her eyes went to her daughter who had a look of dread on her face. Not this again, she nearly groaned. “There’s been some… confusion,” Mrs. Rossi said, gearing up every ounce of diplomacy she learned in her twenty-year career. Lila was so grounded after this. “A miscommunication, I suppose. My ambassadorship has taken my family to England, Spain, and Japan for a little while, and here in France, of course. However, nowhere else. We have never been to Achu. That is a bit above my paygrade, I’m afraid,” She laughed nervously.

The class was as silent as a library. If Bustier was still there, a few students would’ve started yelling their complaints and cries for explanations. One or two would’ve started screaming at Lila for lying. But Bustier was gone. And the look Reed was giving her class, dared them to try.

Tim chuckled, “Kids. When I was seven I swore I spent the summer in Greece with my parents. I didn’t find out until I was eleven that I was actually in Rome. What can you do?” He gave her his most charming smile. “England, was that where Lila met Jagged Stone? I think he’s from there.”

“Jagged who now?” Naomi asked. “The Rock Star? No, Lila’s never met him. She’s a huge fan though.”

“But he wrote a song about her!” Alya cried out. “She saved his cat from getting hit by a plane!”

Miss Reed, “Alya, please raise your hand and keep to a reasonable level while inside. It will be detention if I have to tell you again.”

Miss Reed and Mendeleiev had agreed to The Wayne's suggestion of revealing Lila’s lies to the class. It was the only way they would believe it and that she could lie her way out of. It was unnatural the way the students trailed after the girl, simpering over grand stories and promises of famous connections. They needed to learn to rely on hard work and their own talent, not on how many famous people they might get to the chance to meet.

“A plane?” Mrs. Rossi asked, an affronted look on her face. “You think I would ever allow my child to be in such danger?” She looked at her daughter. “Your grandmother always said you would be a grand writer with all the stories you tell. You could’ve at least come with a sensible lie.”

“I can explain,” Lila said but whether she was talking to her mother or class was anyone’s guess.

Rose raised her hand, “Lie? Lila can’t be lying. What about all the trips she takes with you? The charity organizations she runs? The famous people she knows like Clara Nightingale who always ask her for help. She’s close friends with Prince Ali. That’s why she’s always away from school. One time she was gone for weeks.”

Naomi Rossi looked at her daughter, who did everything she could to avoid eye contact with her mother. “You told me that the school was closed due to the Akumas. It was a lie.” She looked at the teacher. “If the school wasn’t closed, Lila should have only missed three days of school this semester due to her being ill with the flu. She should have only missed seven to ten days in total last year. I do apologize, my daughter…” She gave Lila a dark look. “Seems to have a talent for tall tales.”

Miss Reed stood up, “It’s a matter for the Principle. Her last teacher overlooked many things and wrote off what she couldn’t. Her schoolwork was done the year before; her grades were good enough to pass. She has not missed too many days so far; a few more than the average student but it happens. Any homework missed can still be made up. She is welcome in my class. However, when you get the chance, I would like make an appointment to discuss with you any medical accommodations she has that need to be addressed.”

Mrs. Rossi crossed her arms, “She never wears her glasses. She has sensitive eyes that prevent her from wearing contacts. Without them, she can’t see more than a few feet ahead of her.” She looked straight at her daughter. “And she knows this.”

Marinette wanted to bang her head against the desk. Why couldn’t Lila just say that? She’d have understood.

Mrs. Rossi looked at the class, “I am so sorry for any trouble my daughter may have caused.” She looked at Tim. “I hope this doesn’t cast a negative light on any prospective business relations.”

Tim shook his head, “Kids will be kids. Let’s continue to speak over lunch.”

“I’ll see you at home, Lila,” Mrs. Rossi said.

Tim grinned, “Marinette, I’ll see you after school. Jason.”

Jason got to leave only to stumble nearly down the stairs. He cast a quick glare at Chloe.

The blond gave him a vicious smirk, “Walk much?”

“Oh it’s on,” Jason hissed.

Marinette rolled her eyes. Last year, she had wished with all her might that her friends would see Lila for who she really was. Now the truth was out. Lila had been exposed.

Regrettably, Marinette had already lost all her friends. And those who were still her friends, already knew the truth. So it wouldn’t change much. She’d had already forgiven her ex-friends a long time ago. Marinette just had to intention of being friends with them again. Still, it was a victory.

Fuck Santa; this round went Marinette.

The Justice League had been stunned when they learned that the masked hero Ladybug who was protecting Paris in an adorable bright red suit, who seemed to be made of sunshine, rainbows, and happiness was Batman’s daughter. Like so stunned that as soon as they saw her secret Identity of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and her takedown of monsters twelve times her size; one or two (or twelve) asked Superman to take a DNA test too. Because Bruce Wayne wasn’t the only black-haired Superhero around, and you know things happen.

…Batman hadn’t been happy when Oracle alerted him that someone in the Watch Tower was running his daughter’s DNA against Superman’s.

“How sure are we?” Hal Jordan asked. “The DNA results never came back. How do we know she’s not Big S’s?”

The main members of the Justice League were waiting for Batman and his family to arrive. Then they were would officially be introduced to the hero Ladybug.

Superman glared, “Stop it. Batman already brought out the kryptonite the last time you mentioned it.”

Wonder man nodded, “Her civilian self is the spitting image of Bruce.”

“All of his kids have dark hair and light eyes,” The Flash reminded them. “One of like seven or twelve, or however many he has now, we know for sure is his.”

“They are all his,” Black Canary stated with a growl. She and Oliver had adopted Roy when he was young but that didn’t make the boy any less hers.

Just then the light of the zeta beam sounded and Batman and Ladybug appeared in the room. The clear contrast between the two was startling.

The Dark, brooding, Knight of Gotham dressed in all black with a look on his face that could’ve made Superman wince in fear. Ladybug, dressed in bright red, with a big, cheerful, smile on her face and large blue eyes that looked positively mesmerized by the heroes.

“I brought cookies,” The small girl chirped as she motioned to the goodies in her hands. “And apple pie! It’s a family recipe. I made them myself. I really hope you like them.”

Batman glared worsen to the point where a few Justice League members feared for their lives. The message was clear; they’d like them. Or else.

“I’m sure they’re wonderful,” Diana smiled. “Come on, let me show you where we’ll be meeting.

Marinette tried not to stare in awe at her favorite superhero. “I also brought Vegan. And gluten-free cookies. I wanted to make sure everyone could get some.” She said as she was led away.

The world-renowned heroes visibly cooed at the young hero. She was the most adorable thing they’d ever laid eyes on.

The Flash laughed, “What did you bring, Bats?”

“Death,” Batman growled as stalked after his daughter.

Cyborg swallowed hard. “I’m not saying you’re right,” He told Hal and Barry. “I’m saying for this type of situation; Maury is classier than Jerry Springer.”

Superman groaned. They were going to get him killed.

“Apple pie!” The flash said. “She brought Apple, Clark; it’s a sign from the gods.”

Ladybug briefing them on her hero journey had been riveting. The Justice League had always been aware of Ladybug's existence. Once aware of her, Diana had told them all the history of the Miraculous and how her own mother used to be one of the users. Ladybug, with Chat Noir for a time, handled herself and protected the city well. They saw no reason to interfere. The Justice League had strict rules of interfering with another’s heroes’ turf. They figured if Ladybug needs help, the hero would call on them. They never knew she was a child.

Her age bothered them.

“She can’t protect the city,” Aquaman said. “We’ll need to step in.”

“Excuse me,” Marinette said.

The Flash nodded, “We’ll need to run Intel. I’ll have Vibe take a look at things.”

“Wait! I don’t think you-” Marinette started but was cut off.

“The magic is ancient and powerful,” Hawkman interrupted. “We should call Constantine. Or Doctor Fate perhaps.”

Ladybug shook her head, “That wouldn’t be a good idea!”

Green Lantern waved her off, “It’s fine, kid. We’ll handle it. While we’re at it; consider joining Young Justice or Teen Titans. Get you some training before you call yourself a real hero. Until then stick with the little league team.”

Marinette froze. What did he just say? White-hot anger coursed through her veins.

And to think she always dreamed of meeting the Justice League; of standing face to face with the heroes after having proven herself; proven that she was just as much of a superhero as they. However, Marinette knew she was already a hero. And no one would tell her otherwise.

The round went to Santa. But Marinette would have her due.

Fuck Santa!

Superman said, “We’ll start having unplaced league members scouting the area. They’ll notify us at the first sign of Hawkmoth.”

“ENOUGH!” Marinette yelled. She growled at the heroes. “Who the hell do you think you are?” The silence that followed that question was deafening. “You know nothing of Hawkmoth; saw nothing of what I’ve been through. There is a reason I never called in the league. Superpowered individuals still have emotions; still anger. He can turn any of you into akumas. Get inside your heads; learn who you really are. You’ll be a toy for him. Batman brought me here to meet you; not for you to pretend you know how to do my job.”

She glared at the room and then zeroed in on the Green Lantern. Within seconds, Ladybug had yanked him out of his seat, pulled the ring off his finger, and held by his collar as the man detransformed. “Real Hero? You think I’m not a real hero? I’ve fought monsters nightmares couldn’t even begin to fathom. You want to see what I’m capable of, Glow Stick? How about I take you to the nearest training room and see if you bleed green?”

Batman stood up, “My team will be running point on the Paris situation; following Ladybug lead. You’ll refrain from entering the city of Paris until further notice. That is all.” He looked at his daughter and had to fight to keep the smile off his face. “Ladybug let Green Lantern go, and give him back his ring.”

Ladybug huffed, “I’ll give him back his ring. And then I want ten minutes alone with him.”

Hal gulped.

“No,” Batman said. “We must leave. You have to get ready for Winter break. Next time.”

Ladybug glared and then dropped the hero on the ground. “Next time,” She promised.

Then swiftly the father and daughter duo departed.

Once the two were gone, Wonder Woman chuckled, “Anyone else want to question Ladybug’s Paternity. Anyone?”

Barry had to fight the shivers that went through him. Ladybug had Batman’s glare and knew how to use it. “Nope. Never again.”

Marinette’s first night in Gotham was memorable. The entire bat family had been waiting for Marinette when she arrived; Bruce, Alfred, Kate, Dick, Barbara, Jason, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie, Luke, and Damian. Alfred, the man her brothers had deemed their grandfather, had welcomed her with open arms and a dinner that was more like a feast than a simple meal.

On the outside, Wayne manor looked like any home in the neighborhood; quiet, idealistic, and seemingly perfect.

On the inside, as soon as Bruce and Alfred stepped away for a moment, her siblings took her to the Batcave. It was as grand as she always imagined. Then someone (Tim) brought out lightsabers.

Marinette thought it was a fancy version of the toy she used to love so much as a kid; her only complaint was that the plastic swords only came in green, red and the occasional blue. She really wanted a pink one and had put it on her Christmas list for two years straight.

She pressed the button, only for the sword handle to heat up, and a pink laser rises out of it. “Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“…This is a real lightsaber,” The heat from the sword threated to burn or hand a little. Or worse. She’d seen all the movies. She knew how this usually ended up.

“Yep.”

Marinette nodded slowly. Because what the heck.

“Just go with it,” Luke shrugged. “Just-just go with it.” He sounded like a defeated man. A tired one at that.

“Don’t be like that!” Dick smiled, “Family bond time is the best time.”

“Jedi versus Sith?” Marinette just asked.

Tim pointed a bright gold lightsaber at her, “Jedi versus Sith.”

Marinette looked around at the different colored and very, very dangerous lightsabers. There was no way this could possibly go well. And with the way her Kate, aka Batwoman, was smirking there was no way Alfred would consider her proper adult supervision. Someone was going to lose a hand. Or die. Most likely both.

But she wouldn’t back down. This was more or less her eight-year-old self’s dream. It was also likely to get her killed.

…Marinette would take those odds.

“What team am I on?” She asked.

Cassandra shook her head, “Up to you. Good versus is a chose; just a game though,” She cast Stern looks at Jason, Tim, and Damian, who now sported black robes, clearly, by the Darth Maul make up that had somehow appeared on Damian’s face, were clearly Sith Lords.

Santa thought this would scare her. That she would be cowed into submission. Finally admit defeat. Well, Marinette only had one thing to say to that. Two things actually.

“Give in to the dark side, sister,” Damian ordered her. His lightsaber was red and had two sides to it much like the character he matched.

Marinette got into a fighting stance, “Not today.”

And Fuck Santa.

…

Alfred and Bruce were not happy when they finally located the children.

Or the fact that someone had to get their hand reattached.

It was two to two. Christmas day had arrived. Marinette had expected the worst; had geared up for the worst.

Nothing happened.

Marinette spent the day with her family.

Her parents had even arrived from Paris on the day before Christmas eve.

They shared presents. They sang songs. The entire family was together. It snowed outside. She and all of her siblings had a snowball fight while her parents and Alfred watched from the porch.

It was a perfect Christmas day.

Except for one thing…

Marinette knew the truth.

The perfect day was the result of one thing…

Santa was preparing too. He didn’t back down. The fight wasn’t over yet. He was too busy to mess with her on Christmas Eve or Christmas. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean anything.

Everyone knew the Holiday season didn’t officially end until January 1st.

After New Year’s eve.

That was the final round.

The match to end all matches.

On New Years’ Eve, it would be war.

Roy wore a tailored tux as he walked her down the carpet, passed the flashing lights of the paparazzi.

Marinette never thought she’d fight the most battle of her life in a ballgown. It was a jaw-dropping, off the shoulder, floor length silver dress with lacy unique floral accents. Her hair was in a side-braid with small forget-me-nots on top of her hair like a crown.

It was her battle armor, and she was ready for anything.

It was a promise, she made to herself.

…

Okay so it turns out, Marinette lied to herself.

She wasn’t ready for anything. She did not stand a chance against Santa. He was a jerk. And she was six-second from throwing in the towel and running off crying.

Marinette had known exactly who was attending the ball. She had memorized every guest on the list. Trying to figure out exactly what the fat guy who throws out her. As soon as she saw exactly which celebrities were coming. She knew.

The first punch had been the man ten-year-old Marinette swore she was going marry. Harry freaking Styles.

But Marinette had prepared herself. It would be a quick conversation and then she wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the night.

When she met the superstar, Marinette had smiled and laughed; had a good conversation, wasn’t even awkward at all. She wasn’t the overly One Direction obsessed 10-year-old anymore.

It was a hard hit, and the best conversation of her life, but Marinette didn’t go down.

Santa’s next move was a cheap shot, and she stumbled.

Marinette had been trying to find a quiet place to think for herself so could get strengthen up a bit but, to avoid one of her brothers (Dick), she collided straight into Nick Jonas and fell on her butt.

She hadn’t even realized it at first as he helped her up.

“Thank you,” Marinette said kindly, as she brushed off her dress. When she looked up and saw exactly who had collided with, her face turned a bright red. “You’re Nick Jonas,” She squeaked; literally squeaked. She wanted to die.

Nick Jonas. She loved Nick Jonas. She listen to all his songs; even his old Jonas Brothers ones. She had always wanted to meet the singer; she had dreamed about it.

“Yeah,” Nick smiled. “You alright.”

No. Marinette was not alright.

Still, she chirped a quick, “I’m fine.” And introduced herself.

Then he said, “Love your dress.”

“I made it! I can make you one!” Slipped out before she could stop it.

He just laughed though, “How about a suit instead?”

Yeah, so that happened.

And the night just got worse from there.

…

Santa gave her a combo hit; worthy of a champion.

Not many knew but Marinette was a huge Harry Potter fangirl. Hermione Granger was her all-time favorite. She was a hardcore Harmony shipper; Harry/Hermione forever.

Tim knew it though. He was a big-time fan as well. And he thought it would be a great idea to introduce Marinette to the actress who played her favorite character; Emma Watson.

It was not a good idea. At all.

The first words out of Marinette’s mouth upon seeing Emma Watson were literally, “It's leviOsa, not levioSA!”

And it was at the point that Marinette just wanted to call it a night.

Emma had laughed it off, promising she got it all the time.

…

Marinette met Chris Hemsworth and just wouldn’t stop giggling.

Stephanie had to pull her away.

It was then that she knew Santa had her on the ropes.

…

She met Big Time Rush.

The boy band had become internally famous over the last few years. Not as big as One Direction but they still had their dedicated fans. Marinette was one of them

Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, and Logan Mitchell. They were all eighteen

It should’ve have been easy. She liked their band but not nearly as much as she liked Harry Styles, or Emma Watson, Or Chris Hemsworth.

Still, she hadn’t seen James asking her to dance coming.

However, Marinette had remained calm and cool.

It’s a pity, she was still such a klutz.

Suffice to say, Marinette wouldn’t be listening to Big Time Rush for a while. And James Diamond wouldn’t be asking strange girls to dance any time soon.

Santa gave her a punch right in the face.

…

She ran into Tom Holland the exact moment she got the hiccups. He did his best to help her get rid of them

…

Marinette had just stuffed an entire cupcake in her mouth when she realized Jennifer Lawrence was standing next to her. It wasn’t too bad. As the blond did the same thing a second later.

…

She pointed at Johnny Depp and said, “Jack Sparrow. You’re Jack Sparrow. Oh my god!!!”

To which he replied, “Captain Jack Sparrow.”

…

Suffice to say, Santa didn’t have Marinette on the robes anymore.

No, Marinette was on the floor; waiting for the referee to call it.

…

It was an hour until the official New Year. Fifteen minutes until Marinette was supposed to perform. She was backstage. Everyone was waiting for her. She promised Tim.

And she found that she just couldn’t do it.

The entire night was too much.

It was all too much.

It was over.

She had lost.

“Rough night?” Roy, her date and pretend boyfriend asked.

Marinette was sitting on a chair, her face in her hands, “You have no idea.”

Roy sat next to her, “Pretty exciting though right?” He didn’t get an answer. “Tim said you met Emma Watson, that had to be awesome.”

“It was embarrassing.”

Roy frowned, “Sabine told me you used to dress up as Hermione Granger all time. You’re saying meeting the Queen herself wasn’t even a little cool?”

Yeah, it had been amazing to meet her in person. “A little cool.”

Roy chuckled, “You met Harry Styles,” He reminded. “And from your blond bestie told me; my only real competition.”

Marinette giggled. “That had been… awesome.” And everything.

“You met Chris Hemsworth,” He added. “Tom Holland, Big Time Rush, and a bunch of other celebs that I’ve been told you were huge fans of. Yeah, you were a little embarrassed.” He shook his head. “But I don’t get it; I’d be so psyched right now if I were you. So why aren’t you.”

Marinette paused.

Why wasn’t she?

Marinette had met people she never even dared to really hope she’d ever meet one day. She wore the most beautiful dress in her entire life; danced with Roy Queen and James Diamond. Joked with Harry Styles. Talked Emma Watson the actress who played the character she loved most out of all the books, tv shows, and movies she’d ever loved.

It was all a matter of perspective really. Marinette was so focused on the bad, she never even realized just how great it was. Santa had thrown the worst at her but was still there. She hadn’t run back to Wayne Manor no matter how much she had wanted to. She stayed strong.

At one point, she knew for certain that she wouldn’t just surrender; after the Chris Hemsworth incident. If Santa wanted to win, he was going to have to knock her out.

“Thanks, Roy,” She said. “I couldn’t wish for a better date.”

It was the most amazing night of her life.

And no one was going to make her feel otherwise.

Marinette stood up, determination on her face.

She had a song to sing.

…

Marinette stood on stage. The crowd looked up at her. Her hands were shaking. Her mouth felt dry. The lights were near blinding. She had changed the song at the last minute. The music was coming from her phone anyway.

Marinette knew the lyrics to the song by heart; had sung it a thousand times in her room to herself.

She could do this.

I will do this, Marinette swore.

The music started. It was her favorite song. And Marinette was going to sing it so loudly, so proudly; they could hear her in the North Pole.

“What if I told you

It was all meant to be

Would you believe me

Would you agree

It's almost that feelin'

That we've met before

So tell me that you don't think I'm crazy

When I tell you love has come and now.”

She was doing it. Marinette was really doing it. She always had a good voice. She had taken singing lessons for a long time. And her teachers always praised her talent. But after one terrible incident, she never thought she’d ever get on stage and sing in front of anyone again.

But there she was.

“A moment like this

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this

Some people search forever…

Honestly, Marinette could fall right on her face and it would stop the euphoric feeling coursing through. This was her victory song.

Jolly Saint Nick had thrown at her more than she ever thought she could take. But she was still standing.

And as long as she was, the big red guy would never win.

For that one special kiss

Oh, I can't believe it's happening to me

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this…”

The music faded. The applause from the audience roared.

…

Marinette and Roy slow danced to something my Celine Dion neither could recognize. The New Year was less than two minutes away.

“You’re looking a lot better,” Roy smirked. He knew he was good at Pep talks to matter what Artemis said.

“I feel better,” Marinette admitted. “It’s been an awesome few weeks.”

“Yeah?” Roy asked as he twirled her around.

Marinette nodded, “Nearly Every. One. Of. My. Christmas wishes came true.” She tried not to growl. Positive outlook after.

“Santa must be out to get you.”

Marinette looked up at Roy with appreciation, “You have no idea.”

“Anything he didn’t get to?” The redhead asked. “Something you can do for yourself first?”

“Countdown to New Years in 10!”

Marinette thought about it for a second but she realized there was. There was one more thing on her list, that she added at the very beginning of Christmas.

“Yeah, there is.” She said. “Do you want to kiss me.”

Roy nodded earnestly.

The crowd counted down. “7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” And then Marinette kissed Roy.

Balloons came from above. Everyone cheered. But Marinette kept kissing Roy.

She always wanted a New Year’s kiss.

Take that and stick it up your chimney, Santa.

Marinette was officially the winner.

Nevertheless, there was always next year.

But for now, fuck Santa!

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #batfamily

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heyheydidjaknow · 4 years

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What is this witchcraft? Me? Not posting after midnight? I’m shocked to my very core. Anyways, this is one of my longer chapters. If you have any feedback, do not hesitate. As always, previous chapter (and next when applicable) is at the bottom.

Chapter 5

“Dude, hear me out here.” You are vibrating like a kid on pixie sticks. You slide your hands apart as if to display written words. “Lightsaber.”

“What’s a—”

“Donnie.” You put your hand up before he can continue. “Imma stop you right there. I am going to take your hand and kindly ask you to tell me that you know of, or at least have heard of, Star Wars.”

“I do not.”

“That is a fucking crime.”

You have been sitting with him for approximately an hour, watching him dismantle a “Kraang bot” as you register for school and start ordering supplies. You are quickly starting to realize his knowledge of anything outside the bounds of science is limited to whatever he read by virtue of his father, which consisted of one book on Greek mythology, one on the Italian renaissance, one on ancient Japanese history, and one on Japanese folklore, or anything he learned via the interests of his brothers. Because of this, he seems to know exactly jack-shit about things you consider common knowledge, such as the concept of foreshadowing or Poptarts or Hitler outside of a general association with the name and emotion of some sort, leading to interactions like the one you’re having right now.

“It’s not a crime,” he defended. “It's just I was never really interested in that kinda stuff.”

“But it’s Star Wars!” You throw your hands up. “How do you not know of Star Wars, at least?”

“Look, you’re saying it’s really good, right?”

“Well, yeah.” Your voice lowered.

“Why would somebody throw out a good movie?”

You sigh. “Yeah, that’s fair. But!” You point at him. “But I need to watch it with you, if only out of principle. Besides,” you settle down, “it’s a very… traditionally plotted story. I still have to give you that lesson.”

“Yeah, but after I finish this.” He pushes his laptop to the side, picking up the soldering iron and moving back over to the pile of metal you know will become Metalhead.

You nod in agreement, leaning forward in your chair to watch him fuse wires. “You know what?” You smile. “I may give you shit, but it is really cool watching your whole process.”

“Hm?” He looks up at you from his lean forward.

“Well,” you shrug, folding your legs on the chair, “I just mean that it’s cool seeing how you go about building all this junk that is just… what’s the word?”

“Untraditional?”

“Revolutionary.”

He has a funny look on his face. “You think so?”

“Oh, totally.” You nod eagerly. “I told you that I thought you were one of fiction’s greatest minds, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t.” His face is turning red.

“Really? I swear I did the day I met you…” Your eyebrows furrow as you try to remember.

“You said something about inspiration.” He smiled softly, voice airy.

“Oh, then I—well, it kinda is the same thing.” You rub the back of your neck, feeling your own face heat up. “Must’ve—uh—misspoke. I do that,” you trail off, “kinda a lot.”

“I think it’s cute.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. ‘Oh come the fuck on. Really?’ “See,” you hear your voice rise a register, “that is so not fair.”

“Huh?” The color drains from his face as he tries to remember what sounds just came out of his mouth. “What did I say?”

“You’re not allowed to just say shit like that.” You cover your face with your hands, feeling your heart swell. “You’re not my boyfriend or anything.”

“Wait, what did I say?”

“Nope. Shut up.” You try to calm yourself down. “You didn’t mean it, whatever it was. It’s fine.”

He blinks, very confused. “You sure?”

“Totally.” Your voice is tight. “One hundred and ten percent sure.”

“You can’t be one hundred ten percent sure.” He looks back down at his project, writing your behavior off. “It’s mathematically impossible

“You wanna bet?” You start looking around the room, prior embarrassment now replaced with a desire to win this artificial conflict. “Got graph paper?”

He scoffs. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding right now?” You lean across the table, tilting his head up to face you properly, determination burning in your eyes. Your voice lowers. “I am going to show you one hundred and ten present sure right here and now as a matter of principle.”

He swallowed, face going red again. “One moment, please.” He fumbles around for a piece of paper and hands it to you, along with a marker.

“Thank you.” You smile sweetly, acting as if nothing happened as you start to sketch. “Give me a bit of time and I will show you one hundred and ten percent sure.”

He rolls his eyes, a smile coming back to his face as he calms down. “Sure you will.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Go back to your transformer while I blow your freakin mind, kay?”

“What’s—”

“Don’t even.”

“Gotcha.”

You chew on your tongue absentmindedly, remembering how much you love spacing out pixels when you hear a notification on your phone. You pull it out, read it, sigh, slide out of your chair. “I’ll be right back,” you promise, heading for the door. “I gotta make sure plot shit happens.”

“You know where to find me.”

“Always do.” You shoot him finger guns as you drag the door closed. You walk over to the brothers, currently engaged in their digital hockey match. You watch, waiting for Raphael’s inevitable victory— ‘Wow, my life is getting pretty damn predictable.’—before clearing your throat to catch their attention.

“So,” you smile, “what’s the game plan for tonight?”

They seem to not understand the question. “Yeah, Leo,” Raphael prompts, shooting a look at him, “what’s the game plan for tonight?”

He paused. “Is there some sort of sport thing happening?”

Your heart drops. “Leonardo,” you ask again, voice lowering, “you have a plan for the thing happening tonight, right?”

“What thing?”

You grab his shoulders. “The spill,” you clarify, voice quiet and sharp. “The mutagen spill. The spill I told you about three days ago?”

His eyes widen. “You said that was happening Friday!”

“Today is Friday!” You let go, throwing your hands in the air out of pure frustration. “That’s why I told you today is Friday! What, did you think I just liked talking about days of the week? That it’s my hobby to keep track of how many days I haven’t died?” ‘I mean, it is, but that’s not the point.’

“Well, it can’t be that important if you forgot about it.” Raphael leaned against the machine. “We’ll just go in and bust some heads. No problem.”

You groan. “Do you guys just have something against planning? I swear everything with you guys has to happen at the very last minute.”

“We don’t need the time to plan. I dunno if you noticed, Y/N, but our ‘plans’ aren’t exactly plan worthy.” He shrugged. “You just have to beat the Kraang out of them and that’s the end of it. It’d be like planning to raid a trailer home.”

You sigh. ‘They’re teenage boys. This is only episode six. Deep breaths.’ “Just… please try to heed my warnings in the future, alright? The last thing we need is for something to sneak up on us.”

“Alright, alright.” Leo focuses his eyes on you. “When is the mutagen getting spilled?”

“Tomorrow. The show wasn’t very specific on times, but some time tomorrow.”

“Then let’s air on the side of caution and assume they mean midnight. What’s the time?”

You pull out your phone. “Seven forty-five.”

“That should be enough time to get there, scope out the place, and be home before dinner.”

You feel the ground shake under you as a metallic clang pierces the air.

That is your cue to leave for fear of getting hit with a laser. “You can’t beat Metalhead. Also, Mikey calls him Metalhead.” You start heading out. “I’d stay and watch you guys waste time trying, but I haven’t eaten today, so I’m gonna grab food and meet you there.” You run out before they can ask any more questions.

If nothing else, all the running has been helping you get in shape. You are not typically the type to take runs, but you also are not typically the type to be pressed to see people. Loneliness is one hell of a motivator, as it turns out, and you were starving in more ways than one. You stop by the first place you see, grabbing some food item with a name you already forget—some sort of burrito, you think—and climb a fire escape belonging to a building overlooking the warehouse in question. You sit on the edge of the building, dangling your legs over the side as you wait for them to get here.

‘Do I like him?’ You pause at your question, mid-bite. ‘I mean, I had a crush on him when I watched the show, but this attachment isn’t romantic affection, is it? I’ve had crushes before, and I’m acting too suave for this to be that.’ You swallow, taking a drink out from your nameless cup. ‘Considering my emotional state? It’s highly likely I’m just latching onto him for lack of anyone or anything truly familiar in my life right now.’ You sigh. ‘But, then again, if that were the case, this feeling what be more familial, wouldn’t it?’ You conclude, whether you are attracted to him romantically or not, it is entirely unfair to both of you to pursue a romantic relationship with him unless he makes the first move. You have more faith in his critical thinking skills than in your own, anyhow. Besides, he acted irrationally enough around April as is; introducing a proper romantic relationship into the mix sounds a bit too risky, especially at such a vulnerable time in his development.

You hear the distant sounds of mechanical joints approaching. ‘Already liking this better than ninja silence.’ You spin around, hopping off the ledge and onto the roof proper as you go to properly admire the metal wonder.

It looks infinitely cooler than the show would have you believe, if possible. Each piece of its hull has a past and you can see it in every scratch, every dent. It wasn’t anywhere near perfect; you can easily see where Donatello had hammered out the shell of the artificial terrapin, where he had had to settle for using concrete, even the faintest ghosts of the pennies making up its chest piece. It was a glorious collage.

You run over, going down on your knees to look it over. “This thing is so fucking cool,” you gush, shuffling around it. “Like, totally fucking awesome!”

You can hear the pride in his voice, the excitement. “I know, right?”

You hop back to your feet, keeping yourself from jumping up and down for the sake of pride. “That is the coolest shit ever!” You grin, sitting back down and taking a drink from your soda. “You never cease to amaze, Hamato.”

“You think?” He sounds almost like a puppy, excited as he is.

“Dude, totally.” You sigh, feeling yourself mellow out a little. “But, more importantly,” you continue, clapping your hands together once, “we should be properly watching the warehouse in case they need backup.”

“Oh, right!” The robot stomped over to you, standing slightly behind you as you dangle your feet over the edge.

You take another drink of soda, feeling the excitement in the air dying down as you look out over the buildings. ‘It’s oddly peaceful up here. Must not have started the attack yet.’ You swing your legs back and forth as silence settled between you two.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I meant to ask you before,” he said stiffly, “but how did you know this was happening today? You never explained it.”

You silently thank him for cutting the tension, turning around to face him properly. “Well,” you start, lacing your fingers together around your cup, “remember when I said that the show Leo watches shows up a lot in episodes?”

“Yeah.” You are not exactly sure why he sounds so interested in a detail like this.

“And you know how you watch on cable?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, as it turns out,” you dig into your jacket pocket, “they release television guides, telling people when certain shows are playing, what times they’re playing, shit like that. So,” you conclude, admittedly smug that you had reasoned this part out, “as long as I know what episode is playing during that episode, I can accurately predict any actions that happen during the periods in which you guys have cable access.”

“So, you map out what episodes are scheduled to play on what days and create a timeline around that?”

“Exactly. Not a bad plan.” You pull up a document, showing him the timeline you’ve created with this information. “As long as you guys are on the grid, and as long as Leo sticks to watching that specific channel, I’ll be able to predict the movements of every major player in the series, which means I’ll be able to determine who we can and can’t fuck with based off how they act later down the line, and I’ll be able to give you proper foresight when the situation—”

Your plan is interrupted by a section of the ledge directly next to you to gain a new hole. You leap to your feet, quickly backing up and almost tripping on Metalhead as you regain your senses and hear Mikey’s panicked yelling.

“That doesn’t look good.” You watch the machine starts backing up. “I’m gonna go in and help.”

Something strikes you. “Donnie, real quick, be careful not to run into anything. The technology you’re using is susceptible to Kraang influence.”

“Relax. I got this.” Metalhead gives you a thumbs up before running and leaping off the building, crashing through the glass roof feet first.

You sigh, getting to your feet. ‘Theme of today’s episode is not to rely on technology. Granted,’ you muse, starting to climb down the fire escape, ‘this probably could’ve been solved by adopting a more intuitive controller and having a bit more experience, but I digress.’ You hop the last few feet down. ‘In any case, I’ve done all I can. If that isn’t enough, so be it.’

You hear the explosion as you start walking back to your apartment. ‘He should be coming here in about three or so minutes.’

If you did not know how this would end, you would be much more concerned. As it stands? You know the score before the game is even played.

You wave hello to the doorman as you walk to the elevator. You tap your foot absentmindedly to the elevator music, walk to your apartment, unlock the door, and step inside, picking a large box off the ground in front of it before locking the door.

You walk over and set the box down on your bed, walking back to the kitchen. You pull a Tupperware box from on top of it, pulling a red velvet cupcake from the container and setting it on the counter.

You had died the first time you had made cupcakes. When you had tried making them again from your mother’s recipe, you had found yourself surprisingly unintimidated as you slid them into the oven. Of course, you had sat directly in front of the oven and stared at it during the entirety of the baking process, but you were hardly going to let the worst experience of your life separate you and the most nostalgic, joy-inducing feeling there was. Who else was going to make cupcakes?

You dry your hands, not realizing you had washed them as you pick the confection off the counter. You peel off a portion of the wrapper, biting into the savory and sweet bundle of joy in your mouth. You moan softly in satisfaction, licking the icing off your lips as you walk back over to your bed, sitting down and reaching for the knife under your pillow. You slice the tape, sliding your baby out of its packaging with a soft smile. You reach back in, taking another bite as you pull out a smaller bag. You set the box on the ground, tossing the now-empty wrapper into it and wiping the excess frosting on your jeans, pulling the instrument from its packaging.

Your father had taught you how to play a couple of years back. You never thought you would get weepy over a musical instrument, and yet, here you are, cradling a hunk of wood costing a little more than one day’s allowance. You purse your lips, running your fingers along the neck as you check for any defects in its construction. You crack open the bag and, after about half an hour of fiddling and research, manage to get the strings onto the violin bass without snapping it. It wasn’t an exact replica, but it was close enough that you feel comfortable holding it, feel joy hearing it come in tune.

You play a scale. It sounds like heaven to you.

You put the rest of the trash in the box, laying down next to the first item you have bought. A stand for it would be arriving tomorrow. That makes you smile.

This is the start of something healthy for you. Ironically, it has started with you eating a cupcake, but, still, you have begun to come to terms with your situation. Granted, you have a long way to go; you still have not deleted your social media, wanting to look out for photographs and clips from the funeral, but this is a step in the right direction. You have to believe that.

One small accomplishment: you have kept your apartment sparklingly clean. It is not as if you have much to do, but none the less.

You find your fingers playing an almost lullaby. You stop yourself, not wanting to fall asleep before getting yourself situated. You set your instrument to the side, getting up to close and shelve your cupcake box for future use. You wash your hands again.

You slide your jacket off and throw it onto a seat, knowing you will likely need it tomorrow. You make it a habit to at least get outside once per day, now. You understand that, even if it is not vital, you need to establish a routine. You must keep moving, if only for your sake of mind.

You check to see the curtains are closed, strip, put your clothes in a hamper. You take a shower, comb out your hair, brush your teeth. You do these things consciously, now. You change into a shirt for sleeping, crawling into bed and turning off the light. Tomorrow, you will have to go down to the laundromat to wash your few changes of clothes. You will eat three meals. You will drink eight glasses of water.

You set your phone on the nightstand, plugging it in. You reach over, fingers curling around the handle of the kitchen knife as you slide it under your pillow.

You close your eyes, feeling your heart pang again tonight.

“Goodnight,” you call to no one. “Love you.”

Silence.

It is better than it was. You do not cry tonight, wrapping your arms around your pillow.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” you mumble, feeling yourself drift into unconsciousness. “Love you too.”

Table of Contents

Chapter 4 Chapter 6 part 1

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geekkatsblog · 4 years

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Reviewing Grey's Anatomy Episodes but this time its Season 17

(To those people on my page who don't watch Grey's Anatomy but are being subjected to this I'm so sorry but I really just like to vent about this show.)

Its season 17 now Yay.

They're dealing with the covid 19 pandemic and I'm sure the writers probably did lots of research to make sure that they had the most accurate representation of the situation in the hospitals and otherwise.

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First we're going to start with the love triangle that is Teddy, Tom and Owen.

Owen

Now this is in no way excusing what he's done in the past for the longest while I've loathed Owen Hunt but..... now I feel sorry for him. He saw he had a problem he went to therapy to get himself right, he was actually a good partner for once and communicated in his relationship, he took his time and didn't jump into marriage spontaneously and then Teddy cheated on him over but dial to be heard by everyone in the operating theater with Owen on their wedding day. (I don't want to sound bad but this might also be karma coming to but him in the ass.) I felt so much 2nd hand embarrassment for him and the pain he had in his face the whole time he pretended not to know about her cheating was just oof. I loved though the end where he drove away for the mean time I really do agree with him taking some time and space before he makes a decision. Most of the times he made a lot of sudden decisions that later came back to bite him.

Teddy

Oh Teddy, she used to be one of my favorite characters from a little after she came to the time she left but now they just carried her character so far down hill that it's hard to keep the same energy I had before, now. Everyone at Grey Sloan is on Owen's side and giving her the cold shoulder and she really wants everyone to mind their own business (I honestly agree though, you're in the middle of a pandemic mind your business and do your job now isn't the time to be shunning coworkers because they cheated.) However when she did explain her side I kinda understood it a bit better. It's still an awful thing to do but I know plenty of people who sabotage their own happiness because they aren't used to it. Hell I do it myself sometimes. But then I was also pissed when she just pretended she did nothing wrong at first. First thing first she acted kinda offended when Owen explained why he hadn't called to cancel the wedding to her. Was it kinda sus? The answer is yes but you literally cheated on him that same day, you needed the extra time sis. Not to mention the several time he hinted to her that he knew and gave her the chance to confess yet she lied through her teeth whenever he hinted at it and flat out lied again when he asked if she had anything to confess. I get the whole sabotage route but God was I happy when Owen got in his truck, drove off and left her.

Tom

I was honestly rooting for Tom in the beginning, despite him being a douche I knew deep down he had a heart somewhere, but I actually started to feel less sorry for him last season when he continued to sleep with Teddy despite knowing her situation which he pointed out to her several times and she still ignored it. I know he loves her but let's be honest, she's going to pick Owen as long as he decides to actually take her back and Tom will be left alone and heart broken with his $100000 worth of boxes in booties and a golf club to measure 6 ft distance between him and everyone else. Honestly I kinda saw a panic attack coming, if they're treating Teddy bad then they're probably treating him even more like crap based on the fact that no one besides Teddy, Catherine and maybe Amelia liked him to begin with. This may also be an unpopular opinion but I actually agree with Catherine for making him resign of chief of all chiefs his head hasn't and probably won't be in the game for a while. At least he still gets to be head of neuro. He bought a whole $100000 dollars in booties alone by mistake during an already tough pandemic between that and everything else going on around him I'm not surprised he broke. What did surprise me was that no one even went near him to help even after the attack was finished. Dislike him or not at least ask him how he's doing geeze.

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Jo and Jackson (Never thought I'd have to put the two of them together in a title.)

Truly the biggest shock of the night besides the trailer for next week which I will freak out about later.

So Jo has decided that in order for her to feel herself again she has to do the devils tango with someone and because they're in a pandemic and she trusts him she chose Jackson. The night of the appointment to do the deed Jo ends up crying in his mouth. The way she treated him afterwards at first was a little uncalled for in my opinion, I mean she was the one who asked for the favor. But later they talked and it was all cool again. Jo didn't really have that big of a plot this episode so not too much to talk about.

Jackson

Agreed way to quickly to doing the devils tango with Jo if you ask me. Seems a little sus. I really hope they aren't rushing him and Jo into anything give the girl some room to breath and also give Jackson a proper plot he seems to be a plot filler for everyone right now like they have no real purpose for him on the show at the moment. I'm beginning to really think that he was the one who was supposed to die last season. I really do love his and Richard's relationship. Jackson never really had a good father and Webber seems to be filling that spot quite nicely. Him pushing Webber to fight to get better and convince him that his career can be saved was heartwarming. And can we take a moment to talk about Harriet finally appearing from the world of Narnia to bless us with her presence? And boy was she a blessing. That baby that plays Harriet was awesome from her repeating Vic saying she can't be a step mom all to her facial expressions. I hope to see baby Harriet again very soon. But speaking of Vic, did she not know that Jackson was a father? How the hell did she expect to never run into her at some point? Then there's the whole question of what did she even expect of the relationship with Jackson if she never intended to even try to accept being around his daughter? also if she really want to be Robbie Rotten from Lazy town and avoid being around kids, maybe she should call or text first instead of showing up in just a fluffy jacket and nothing else.

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Deluca

Glad to see he finally got the help he needed and is back put tho work. I felt so upset last season when everyone just treated him like crap without trying to help him, but they made up for it a little by trying to help him with the intervention. He was also right about the sex trafficking case and I was so glad to see that he was able to be there as her doctor. Plus he's now also finally in dark blue scrubs it has felt like forever before he got those but I digress. He is now on his way once again to be a kick ass surgeon with the awesome skills hes already showcasing. I just hope he continues to look after himself. Deluca shine like the star you are babe.

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Maggie

Has finally found a man who understands her, he is so nice and kind and caring the whole episode I was mentally yelling go get it hun to the screen. She deserves someone who can take her seriously and understand her awkwardness as well as her tendencies finally she has stepped out of the role of cheerleader and support character and is branching out to something else and I'm here for it. And her yelling at Catherine, to share her piece of mind. I was so proud. Go get it sis.

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Richard

Richard Webber is back in the building, finally the king has returned to himself and already solving problems in day one. At the beginning when he publicly called Catherine a pain in the ass I was so stoked I finally thought that he was done being pushed around by her but then he took her back in the end it also kinda felt like she bought him in order to get him back with the hiring him as the new chief of chiefs but I wish them the best of luck, Webber deserves to be happy. I was also happy to see him and Bailey interacting like friends again. For a while it was awkward between them but now it's like the balance has been restored. Side note, him laughing at Teddy and Owen made me laugh so loudly especially when he asked Teddy if her name was still Altman despite the fact he clearly knew about the phonecall drama, not gonna lie I'd do the same.

___________________________________________

Catherine

Not much there, just her being angry at the pandemic and loss of money, lack of power to save lives as well as trying to win Webber back which she successfully did after firing Koracick and giving Richard his job and finally giving him a heartfelt apology without being petty.

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Bailey

It might just be me but so far despite the fact that it's only been 2 episodes. Bailey seems somewhat better this season. Her guilt over Deluca was definitely warranted but at least she tried to make up for it (and just like Harriet her OCD has decided to rejoin us for a visit from Narnia.) For the past few seasons she's been a slight pain but now she seems more like herself.

Her and Ben are adorable as usual, coming every 12 hours to clap for the doctors just to see her then the cute hand signals they made for each other, between Ben, Link and recently added to the group of awesome partners Winston, I'm beginning to wonder where I can find me one of these super thoughtful understanding handsome men. The two guys that knocked her over as well spraining her ankle really should have to pay or something or at least apologize, they literally just knocked a doctor off her feet and made her wheel chair bound, the chief ro be exact. Her and Webber are on talking terms and well again but she really needs to know how to express concern better. She once told Ben that when she's scared she yells but a lot of things would have gone a lot more smoothly if she'd just reminded him he was a high risk for covid and state her concern for him to begin with instead of barking out orders.

I'm also wondering if shes going to be able to handle the whole Covid situation so well for the whole time, with all the chaos and disorganization with the whole ordeal not to mention the whole fit she had with the germs in the episode. I think it'll be a good storyline now that Grey's seems to be bringing mental awareness back up.

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Link and Amelia

They have now officially reached my list along with Ben and Bailey and a few others that are no longer on the show that have reached the stage of killing the couple goals on this show.

Despite the fact that they're not only raising their own baby but also Bailey, Ellis and Zola yet their relationship is still solid. I'm so proud of my baby Amelia she has come a long way from the woman who didn't even want kids to begin with.

I loved the fact that he wasn't upset over her forgetting his birthday and acted like nothing was wrong, just so she wouldn't feel bad about forgetting. I would have been livid set a reminder on your phone babes. Either way she definitely made up for it later with the whole redoing his birthday thing. Also welcome to the world Scout. Looking forward to seeing them more often.

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Levi

How did it all turn so bad, Nico has turned into such a jerk at this point I'm not even sure I'd be to upset if he left if it wasn't for the fact that I ship the person he was before and Levi so much I'm still hoping that they'll go back to how they were before Nico became a lying hypocrite. At the end I was practically begging Levi to push him away, Nico doesn't deserve it not after the way he treated him and he hasn't even shown a hint of remorse to this day.

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Meredith

The biggest shock of the whole episode. I honestly knew something was going to happen to her from the time she fell asleep and started the dream on the beach. Dreaming of beaches have never been a good sign on Grey's I just thought she was going to collapse from stress because she really had been pushing herself all episode. The thing with Meredith is that she cares so much for her patients and does anything she can to save them, but based on the preview of the next episode and the tests they showed it doesn't seem to be test. And let's just talk about that huge bombshell they dropped by bringing back Derek I never thought I'd see Patrick Dempsey on the show again. By the end of the episode I was already literally shaking in anticipation for the next episode. I know they can't kill Meredith, without her there literally is no Grey's Anatomy. That being said I really hope they don't give her cancer, (I know Patrick is involved with helping a charity for cancer.) And I also really hope she isn't getting alzheimers I just hope it's nothing serious in general. She's been through enough man. I just want this to be a really touching moment where I get to see Merder have some touching moments and it doesn't end up to be Izzie and Denny all over again. I don't think anyone is ready to handle that. I read in a spoiler that there's supposed to be some more visitors arriving on the beach and I'm stoked for it so I really hope it's a real spoiler I'm tired of rewatching the newer seasons to experience some of the old joy.

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Imma need them to give that intern Perez an official recurring contract for the show because he is currently one of the best things to come on that show in years. He's a breath of fresh air.

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lombredanslaeu · 4 years

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someone that loves you | lee taeyong

▸ taeyong x antagonist! reader

▸ summary: everyone always gushes about the protagonist - the goody two shoes, i-deserve-all-the-happiness girl. you never had a problem with people getting their happy endings, anyway. but lee taeyong won’t be the rescuing you in a shiny, white horse; you are also not his damsel-in-distress. you are the protagonist in their love story.; word count 4,352

▸ angst, fluff.

this isn’t proofread so i apologize for any mistakes! enjoy <3

You’ve known Lee Taeyong all your life; from being lunchbox friends in elementary school to being party buddies in college. You weren’t the best of friends but you did share the same closest circle of friends in college. You both watched each other grow up, but you weren’t the type of friends to gush about their love life with. In fact, the two of you could only hold a proper conversation if it’s in one of Jaehyun’s parties. Nevertheless, you always found him attractive. He was the hot, cool junior who is currently majoring in music. He has girls trailing behind him; one of those heartthrob male protagonist in a movie or a book. You had the advantage of being in his inner circle - which means you are one step further than the girls chasing after him. You aren’t so bad yourself - you’re quite popular, your hair was always in check, you liked girly clothing. Everyone in your department kisses your ass, if you’re being honest, and you could have anyone wrapped around your finger. Everyone except Taeyong.

“What lipstick should I wear for today?” Your friend, Yeri, asked you while holding two lipstick tubes near her lips.

“This one looks great with the university atmosphere,” you replied, poiting to the one on her left. “The other one would look great on parties and dates.”

“Ugh, you are so great at choosing lip colors.” She complimented. “Speaking of parties, you’re still up for Friday night at Jaehyun’s?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed. “He always hosts the greatest parties.”

“Right?” Joy spoke in agreement. “Besides, that might be the night you finally get it with Taeyong.”

“Oh please,” Yeri interjected. “You know Y/N doesn’t hook up on the first night.”

“I’m the complete opposite of what those bitches at the online forum say about me!” You added.

“You don’t have to listen to those forums, Y/N,” Joy said. You sighed and got back to eating your lunch. Joy and Yeri are two of your closest friends. You met during the first day of your freshman year. You only knew Taeyong as you both came from the same high school, but he looked like he already had friends; that led you to no choice but to talk with the girl beside you during chemistry. It wasn’t long until you started to hang out with Taeyong’s circle of friends. The night of Jaehyun’s party came. It was the same, old thing with Lucas being extra loud than his normal self, and it was either Johnny or Xiaojun in charge of the music. Except today, two unfamiliar faces came through the door.

“Who are they?” You asked Mark beside you.

“That’s Daeun and Euna.” Mark responded. “Apparently, Taeyong and Kun invited them since they’re new in campus.”

You felt a surge of jealousy rage over you. You know you don’t have any reason to feel that at all. It’s not like Taeyong would suddenly want to date you after all the gifts and letters you gave him on his birthday for the past years.

“Do I sense some kind of tension here?” Mark commented. He must have felt the shift in your body at the mention of Taeyong’s name.

“No?” You defended. “Why would I feel some tension?”

You got back to sipping your drink and watch as one of the girls converse with Taeyong and Yuta. She looks nice. She looks innocent and cute. You weren’t one to judge other girls at all. Even if you hated all your competitors, you never resorted to sending bashful comments to them. You walked away from the scene to find Doyoung and get him to get you drunk.

Your professor called in sick for the day, leaving you with no more lectures for the rest of the week. You silently thanked your department for having its finals week earlier than the other departments. You were scrolling through your social media apps to kill time and decided to watch a view stories on instagram. The first story was from Taeyong; it showed a picture of Daeun seated across from him in the library. You were used to seeing Taeyong hang out with other girls before. You would have let it slide like the other girls, except that you notice Taeyong has been hanging out with Daeun more ever since Jaehyun’s party. You skipped over to the next story to distract yourself. As you got invested on your phone, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see distressed Taeyong.

“Hey Y/N, are you busy?” He asked.

“Not at all.” You responded, setting down your phone on the table.

“Listen, I am terribly failing Professor Kang’s class,” He started. “He told me you’re his greatest student. So, can you coach me? We have a class debate and I need to win.”

“Okay, remember,” You said to Taeyong. You were explaining to him strategies on how to win a debate. “Analyze every argument your opponent has to say. Don’t miss out on anything.”

Taeyong wrote down on his notebook all the tips you’re giving him. Today was the fourth day you’re coaching him. You got to spend time with Taeyong even if all you did was stay in the library for two hours. During your breaks, you talked about your favorites - movies, songs, food, etc.

“If you win this debate,” You said to him. “I’ll treat you to a HONNE show on the 16th.”

“Woah, Y/N, that’s a deal,” He replied with amusement evident on his face. “I’m gonna destroy that Mingyu.”

You rushed through the hall to catch Taeyong’s debate on time. It was open for anyone to watch. You ditched the remaining hour of your psychology lecture to greet him with a huge bouquet of flowers and your promised ticket to HONNE if he wins. You saw the swarm of people exit the function hall, which means the debate was done. You wiggled yourself through the crowd in search for the boy. You spotted him near the exit with Jungwoo, Yuta, and Daeun.

“Taeyong!” You exclaimed, catching his attention. He walked towards you, smiling at the things on your hands. You noticed that your bouquet of flowers outshine the ones that Daeun gave to him. You mentally smiled at yourself for that.

“I won, Y/N! I won!” He exclaimed before slinging an arm over your shoulders for a brief hug. It may seem like a short, friendly hug to anyone but for you, it was like your skin suddenly felt what it was like to be appreciated.

“You have me as your coach, of course you would win,” You replied. “I’m sure you did amazing. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to catch it. As promised, see you at HONNE.”

He received the bouquet and ticket from your hands and gave you a smile that could light up the darkest parts of you.

“Oh Y/N, I forgot that Daeun and I had plans to catch this movie on the 16th.” Taeyong said. You felt your blood boil slightly. “It’s shows for the last time on the 16th. You can give the ticket to Johnny. He also likes HONNE.”

Taeyong’s rain check bothered you for the entire week. You really wanted to see HONNE with him; you even rejected Joy so that Taeyong could have the extra ticket.

“I thought it was Taeyong you’re supposed to go with?” Johnny said. You asked him to go with you for the concert.

“Yeah but, he has plans with that Daeun girl.” You said, rolling your eyes. Johnny chuckled at your response.

“Wow! The campus’ crush got rejected by Lee Taeyong?” He said with great amusement. “This is breaking news!”

You couldn’t believe it either. Any other guy would be begging to be the one you have a concert date with; the fact that Taeyong rain checked on you bothered you to the core.

“Hey, cheer up, Y/N.” Johnny said, his tone becoming concerned.

You sighed and force a small smile. “It’s fine, John.”

“Hey,” He spoke, facing you. “Do you really want Taeyong to be free on the 16th?”

His menacing eyes made you skeptical about whatever plan he has in mind. Johnny was always the deceitful one. He gets away with everything and anyone. For the past year of being friends with him, you’re guaranteed that Johnny’s plans never fail. The next thing you know, you’re sneaking into the university’s clinic. Your university clinic arranges a mandatory annual check up that each student must attend to. You only get one appointment every year and if you fail to do so, you’re not allowed to enter any contests/competitions for the rest of the year. Daeun was part of the archery team and they have a competition coming next month. As part of the debate varsity, you know that every team member takes the check up seriously; so does Daeun.

“Y/N, hurry up, the nurses’ lunch ends in 15.” Haechan whispered. He volunteered to be your look out. He was Johnny’s partner in crime so, you know that he’ll help you execute this perfectly. You found the schedules for the check ups for this and wrote Daeun’s name on the 16th.

You were walking back from a long meeting with your college organization. It was nearing midnight since you and your team needed to stay back and fix some stuff. The walk from your school to your dorm wasn’t very far and although it was really late, the street was illuminated with street lights. As you approached a bus stop near the exit of your school, you noticed a familiar figure.

“Taeyong?” You asked the person, who seems to be clutching his side because of pain. He lifted his face to you, causing you to see the few scratches and cuts lined with blood. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“It’s nothing, just came across some bad blood.” He replied, wincing as the cut on the corner of lips hindered him from speaking comfortably.

“This isn’t nothing, Taeyong.” You said with utmost concern. “Come with me to my dorm. I’ll help you clean that up before you catch a bus.”

You walked with him to your dorm. You couldn’t let Taeyong go inside a filthy bus with his exposed wounds. He sat down on your couch as you get the first-aid kit that the landlord placed in every unit.

“Care to tell me what really happened?” You inquired. You dabbed a piece of cotton on the cuts near his lips. Taeyong was always beautiful but he was too ethereal to be scarred with such wounds.

“I got into a fight with Daeun’s ex.” He sighed. “I overheard them arguing during lunch earlier. He threatened to hurt her if she doesn’t get back together with him so, I wait for him to finish his community service and went for it.”

Your heart winced at the fact that Taeyong got hurt for Daeun. It wasn’t the right time to compare but whenever people would comment hurtful prejudice to you, it was always the others guys who would come to your defense. Taeyong only knew Daeun for a short amount of time but he’s starting to act like her knight in shining armor. You couldn’t deny that Daeun was a sweet girl; she helped you with a physics problem once and told you that you could always ask for help. Your pride got the most of you and ignore her. Taeyong probably likes the sweet ones and you were too bitter for your own good.

“Thank you for your help, Y/N.” Taeyong said as you announced that you were done cleaning up his wounds.

“No problem.” You replied. “Just promise me you’ll get your ribs checked tomorrow.”

He smiled at you; and for the first time in quite some time, you felt like the good girl in this story.

Today was the day of the HONNE concert. You didn’t expect Taeyong to approach you since he knew Johnny will be the one you’re going with, but here he is - standing in front of you.

“Listen, I just found out that Johnny had a stomach flu and wouldn’t be able to go to the concert.” He said. You didn’t know Johnny had the stomach flu so this surprised you. “I didn’t want you to come alone so, I was hoping that his spot hasn’t been taking yet.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Don’t you have a movie to catch with Daeun?”

“Yeah but she was scheduled to have the annual check up today.” He replied.

“Great, see you at the concert.” You said, smiling at him before walking away.

“That was so fun!” Taeyong exclaimed as you both exit the concert venue. You decided to grab a drink in a bar nearby.

“Right?” You agreed, reciprocating the wide smile he has on his face. “’Location Unknown’ definitely moved me to the core.”

You settled in a booth in the bar. This bar was a great spot for concert-goers so you weren’t expecting to stay for a long time.

“Can I tell you something?” He said, playing with the bottle in his hands. You lifted your eyebrow to signal that you were willing to listen. “Daeun just said she loves me.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “And what did you say?”

“Well, she didn’t say it to my face. Taeil overheard her and Euna talking.” He replied.

“Do you love her back?” You asked. You hoped to the stars that he’ll say no.

“I don’t know.” You relaxed at his response. “But, I do like her.”

You felt like you lost your chance. Is Daeun prettier? Is she really kinder than you? Are you unlovable?

“Wait,” You held your palms up. “Why are you telling me this? We’re not that close.”

He shrugged at you. “I don’t know. After our debate tutoring, I realized that you’re actually cool to hang with. Besides, you’re not friends with Daeun or Euna, so I bet you won’t tell them what I have to say.”

“Are all of your friends close with them?” You asked.

“Yeah, almost everyone.” He replied.

Oh, so everyone likes them? You couldn’t deny that you may seem bitchy to other people. Yuta and Jaemin seems like they never liked you since the beginning, despite not doing anything to them. The fact that they like Daeun and Euna doesn’t sit right with you.

As the weeks go by, you witness first-hand how Taeyong and Daeun got closer. She was always present on Jaehyun’s parties and it seems like Daeun’s instagram stories are just becoming endless candid photos of Taeyong. You scrolled past her instgaram stories. Christmas time is coming up. You usually never give presents to everyone but this time, you were determined to be selfless. You carefully wrapped everyone’s presents. Butterflies flew in your stomach as you wrapped Yuta’s present. You knew he was never fond of your presence. He once called you “Regina George” because according to him, you fit that category. You never understood why he would label you as such. All you did was beat him during debate and spoke nothing but the truth about his shortcomings as a speaker. Jaemin, on the other hand, used to be your vice president in the debate varsity. You two got along together before; that was until someone showed you a screenshot of a tweet on his private twitter account saying that you were a bad president.

“I can’t believe you are this low.” You said to Jaemin.

“Well, you should believe that you are a bad president because you never listen to anyone but yourself!” His tone was more hostile. You were trying your best to stay calm but the comment he just gave blew whatever cool you had in you.

“Okay, you can keep talking but just now,” Your voice lowered as you say the last phrase. “I’m never gonna listen to whatever bullshit you have to stay.”

You remembered having half of the debate varsity turn their backs against you. But, it was the same old thing. You were always the villain in everything. You wanted to make amends with Yuta and Jaemin and gave them their presents.

Yuta scoffed at the gesture. “Oh please, trying to play nice since the comments about you on the online forum are starting to get into your head?”

“I’m just trying to be nice.” You said. “I know things aren’t cool between us, so I’m here to make amends.”

“Stop trying to be nice.” Jaemin spoke. “Stop proving that you’re not the bad guy when you know to yourself that you are.”

He got up and threw the present in the nearest garbage bin. You held back the tears that were threatening to form in your eyes. You’re Y/N. You never cry in front of people. You sighed in defeat and left the lecture hall.

“That wasn’t very nice, you guys.” Taeyong scolded the younger boys. He was the only one inside the hall aside from you, Yuta, and Jaemin. He excused himself from the two as he followed you into the hallway. He saw your sniffling figure near a storage room. He placed a hand on your shoulder which caused you to frantically wipe your tears.

“It’s okay, Yong.” You said.

“I’m sorry for what they said.” He started.

“You don’t have to apologize for their actions.” You replied, sighing. “Besides, apologizing for them won’t fix anything between us.”

“You’re a good person, Y/N.” He said, staring into your eyes. “I’m sorry it took me a while to realize that.”

Your heart was booming against your chest. He leaned forward and you felt his lips brush against yours. The next thing you know, your lips are moving in sync with his. You felt the universe sparkle with magic at the feeling. The boy of your dreams is kissing you. For the first time in your life, something felt ethereal. Your internal rejoice was cut short as you see the figure of Daeun from Taeyong’s shoulders. You were about to pull away but she already ran.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Taeyong.” You said, breathing heavily at the guilt.

“Why? Johnny told me you liked me?” He said. Your eyes widened at the statement.

“Yeah, Taeyong.” You replied. “I’m in love with you. For all the years we’ve spent together, I thought one day, you would like me too. But Daeun loves you, and I know you like her. You shouldn’t have kissed me just because you knew I’m in love with you. That’s not fair.”

Taeyong furrowed his eyebrows. “Did she see us?” His voice was low but you could hear it.

“Yes.” You replied. “I’m sorry. I want you for myself that’s why I didn’t pull away immediately.”

“What if I said I want you too?”

“I am the bad guy.” You spoke as you stared in the nothing. Yeri and Joy decided to take you out after what happened. “I knew Daeun loves Taeyong and yet, I let him kiss me.” ”It’s not your fault Taeyong found you kissable that time, Y/N.” Yeri replied.

You rolled your eyes at her response and before you could say anything, Joy interjected. “It’s true, Y/N. You know in yourself that you wouldn’t kiss Taeyong since he said he likes Daeun.”

You groaned as you put your head in your hands. Your phone lights up and you saw that you got a new text.

Lee Taeyong [10:57 pm]: can we talk tomorrow? pls…

You [10:59 pm]: ok.

You waited for Taeyong on the bleachers near the soccer field. There weren’t a lot of people since students started going home to their hometowns but Taeyong’s friends were there.

“Oh, you’re here to steal Taeyong again, Y/N?” Jaemin asked mockingly.

You rolled your eyes as Mark said, “He’ll be here any moment, Y/N.” and gave you a smile.

You stared at the sunset and wondered what the rest of the day has in store for you. You spotted Taeyong chasing after Daeun during third period earlier. The guilt consumed you. You were typically the type to be selfish about things. You thought you were doing something great by giving out presents but based on Yuta and Jaemin’s reactions, you felt like you can never be kind to anyone. You spotted Taeyong walking towards you. You swallowed the butterflies that tried to escape your throat.

“Hey.” He said quitely. He sat down beside you. “About what I said the other day-”

His sentence was cut short by Euna running towards you.

“Taeyong!” She exclaimed as she was approaching. “Taeyong-”

“Euna, calm down,” He tried to help her catch your breathe.

“Daeun-” Euna began. There was a small pinch of worry inside you. You were worried that something might have happened to her because of what she saw. “I don’t know what you two are talking but- Daeun is on her way to transfer to another college. If you really like her, Taeyong, please stop her.”

Taeyong looked down, conflict evident in his demeanor. He stayed silent for a while as Euna went away. Your hands turned cold. He hasn’t said anything but you knew what his decision was.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered before bolting off towards Euna’s direction.

You didn’t realize that you were crying until you felt a tear drop on your legs. You thought you had him. The moment he said that he wants you too, made you feel like you’re up on cloud nine. But clouds disappear and the moment they do, you’ll be falling from the sky and down to the ground. You stood up and saw the look on everyone’s eyes. For the first time in forever, you saw pity on Yuta’s eyes.

News spread fast as they often do. The announcement of Daeun and Taeyong’s relationship went through your ear for the nth time today. With the guidance of chocolates and countless bottles of alcohol, you tried yourself to forget about Taeyong. As you were drunkenly singing “Truth Hurts” by Lizzo, you remembered who you are. You are Y/N. And you don’t cry for anyone.

“You’re prettier, Y/N.” Joy attempts at cheering you up. Yeri smiled at you and held your hand as a sign of comfort. You three chatted for a while until it was time for them to catch their flights home. It was the end of the semester but you were too bummed to go back to your hometown. The quietness of your town wouldn’t be a good combination with your thoughts. You figured that the city would be the best place for now. You mentally thanked Taeyong for making you believe that you could be a good person. You thanked him for the butterflies and the greatest kiss that you’ve had so far.

As you stood up, you saw Yuta standing in your direction.

“You’re a good person, Y/N.” He said all of a sudden. You tilted your head in confusion. He just smiled and walked away.

Before his figure became blurry, you noticed that he was swearing the shirt you got him for Christmas.

a/n: ya know in retrospect, this seems like ur typical cheesy teenage movie. might delete this soon hehehe anyway, feedback are always welcome!!

#lee taeyong #lee taeyong imagines #lee taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong x you #taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #taeyong angst #taeyong smut #nct 127 #nct angst #nct imagines #nct drabbles

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lightsovermonaco · 4 years

Text

Bonfires (NSFW Max Verstappen + Reader)

My first Formula 1 fic! Listen, I know not everyone likes Max. If ya don’t, just don’t read it, thanks!

“There’s our champion!”

The Red Bull Racing team roared with cheers as Max approached the beach, his team gathered around a raging fire. You walked alongside him, beaming with pride. His win today had nearly secured him the championship; he only needed one more first place finish to clinch it. You had nearly jumped into his arms when he came back to the paddock, instead opting to a less intimate hug.

“Cheers to you, friend!” Daniel called, holding out a shot. Max grinned and swiped it from his teammate’s hand, downing it in the blink of an eye. He looked back at you, unfiltered joy in his eyes. Max grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the circle of bodies surrounding the fire.

Mechanics and engineers slapped him on the back, high fived him, and offered him shots. He took most of them, a buzz already starting to form. Unable to hold your thoughts in any longer, you went up on your tiptoes and kissed Max’s cheek. He froze, eyes going wide.

Max never showed any sort of public affection, not once in the two years you had been dating. He didn’t want anyone’s nose in his business. You couldn’t blame him for that. You weren’t a secret; the press knew about your relationship, but some things were better left private.

“I’m sorry,” You stammered, “I was just so proud of you and I couldn’t-”

He cut you off with a proper kiss, his friends whooping as he dipped you back. His tongue swiped over your lower lip once before he pulled away, face lit up with a smile. The world narrowed to just the two of you. You breathed him in, the alcohol on his breath mingling with the musk of his cologne.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” Max murmured, swallowing thickly.

“Well then I guess I need to say it more then,” You replied, smiling softly.

Max laughed, leading you to a bench before the fire. “Glad you two finally decided to stop sucking face and join us,” Daniel teased, shooting you a wink. You winked back, absolutely giddy. Over the years, you and Daniel had become fast friends. He was the one that encouraged you to tell Max about your crush, knowing that Max had felt the same way.

When Max was distracted, Daniel raised a brow and clasped his hands together. His eyes flicked between you and Max, and you shook your head. You didn’t want to push him outside of his comfort zone too quickly. Daniel shrugged, then mouthed I’ll help.

Max slung an arm around your shoulder as he threw his head back and laughed at whatever Christian had said. It was a cackling, unusual sound that caught you off guard. Max was rarely so at ease; even less so in public. When you were alone, he had learned it was safe to let down his walls and let you see the raw, vulnerable parts of him, but anywhere else it was hard to get him to show any sliver of his true self.

But you saw Max in that laugh. Not Max the Formula 1 future world champion, but the Max you had fallen in love with. Your stomach fluttered, your focus entirely on the lines of his face crinkled with laughter. He took a swig from his red cup and finally noticed you staring.

“Can I help you?” He asked, blue eyes shining like the ocean a few meters away. You were vaguely aware of Daniel turning his attention to someone else, letting the two of you have a moment.

You glanced at the arm still around you. “You feeling alright?” You joked, trying to break the tension. You knew he was drunk, but you had barely had a sip yourself. One of you had to keep a clear head, or who knew what sort of trouble you two would wind up in.

“Of course I am,” He murmured, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. A flush crept into your cheeks, hidden from the others by the warm glow of the fire.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Daniel called. The two of you immediately glanced up at him, Daniel amused that his name calling worked. “The rest of us are heading out to the bar. Make sure you douse the fire before you head in for the night, yeah?”

“I’ll make sure of it,” You told him, adding a silent thank you. Daniel gave you a knowing grin before heading back to the house. Leave it to Daniel to be the perfect wingman.

You settled against Max’s shoulder, the crashing waves and crackling flames the only sound. The full moon hung low in the sky, casting a white glow over the water. You slid a hand to rest on Max’s thigh, heart pounding. Even years later, it never got quieter when you were around him.

His hand slipped from your shoulder to your hip, thumb slipping under your shirt to rub circles on your skin. Sparks zinged where skin met skin, sending a thrill up your spine.

Slipping into Dutch, he murmured, “Ik hou van je.” I love you.

Neither of you ever said ‘I love you’ in english. It became a game between the two of you to see who could find the most ridiculous words to express your love. You changed it up before nearly every race, and Max thought of it as a good luck ritual. The press loved it too, as it added yet another layer of mystery to your relationship.

Now wasn’t the time to play that game though. Max’s free hand cradled your chin, pulling your face up to his. Your lips parted slightly in anticipation, his gaze falling to your mouth as you whispered, “Ik hou van je.”

He crashed into you like waves on the shore, teeth and tongues clashing. Your hand danced along his thigh, his along your back. You didn’t care that anyone could look out and see the two of you. Your head was spinning, content to be wrapped up in Max forever.

“Closer,” Max murmured against your lips, strong hands gripping your thighs and pulling you into his lap to straddle him. Your fingers went to tangle in his hair, chest heaving. HIs lips left yours, tracing a path down your jaw.

“Should we move this party inside?” You asked, gasping when his teeth grazed your neck.

Max looked up at you with a wild grin. “I could take you right here.”

“Max!” You chided, heat rising to your cheeks. You knew he wouldn’t hesitate to make good on the promise, his hardness already pressing into you.

“What?” He asked, utterly innocent. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want me to.” A hand found its way into your shorts, his touch teasingly light.

“I-” The breath was snatched from your lungs as he brushed your center. His head fell forward at the wetness soaking your panties. The fire had eddied to embers, leaving nothing but the moon lighting the planes of his face as he again looked at you. He may have been drunk, but the intent was clear in his eyes.

Max withdrew his hand, not heeding your protests. “What’ll it be? Out here,” He asked, hand cupping your ass, “Or at the house?”

The thought of sand in unsavory places was almost enough to kill the mood. You leaned in to nip at his lower lip. “Take me to bed, loverboy.”

That same wild grin flashed as he stood, taking you with him. Your ankles crossed behind his back, unwilling to yield an inch of contact between the two of you as he carried you inside. Thanks to Daniel, the rented beach house was empty; the temporary occupants off to get further drunk to celebrate Max’s win. If anyone asked where he was, Daniel would cover for him.

Holding your weight with one arm, he opened the door to his room. He set you down, taking your suitcases off the bed. Before he could grab it, you picked up his backup helmet and turned it over in your hands. The helmet usually stayed with the car, but for whatever reason Max hadn’t wanted to let it go after his win. It carried a faint aroma of sweat and race fuel, bringing back the image of Max on the podium earlier that day.

“Should I wear it?”

You laughed at the absurdity of the idea, setting it on the nightstand. “As much as I would probably enjoy it, I would rather see your face.” You ran a finger over his cheekbone, Max’s eyes sliding shut at the touch. His hands settled on your hips, breathing heavy.

Your finger made it as far as his jaw before his hand snapped up to grab your wrist. His eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide as he walked you back until he had you caged against the wall. Your heart beat against your ribs so hard it threatened to burst.

“Say it again,” He asked. There was a demand in his eyes, even though his voice was rough. You knew exactly which words he craved; which ones he wanted to fall from your lips.

“I,” You started, relishing the way his grip on your wrist tightened as he pinned it over your head, “Am proud of you, Max Verstappen.” Your other wrist joined the first, his head tipped so your lips just brushed. “My future world champion.”

The possessiveness in your voice was his undoing. He surged forward, tongue sweeping into your mouth as his body pressed against yours. Any previous softness had evaporated and had been replaced by his usual dominance.

“Mine,” You murmured again and were rewarded with a guttural sound dragging from his throat. He pulled your shirt over your head, then tore off his own. He paused to drink in the sight of you half bare before him, eyes glazed with more than alcohol.

“You just gonna stand there all night long or are you gonna fuck me?”

“I’m getting there,” He promised, stepping back and out of his shorts and boxers. It was your turn to stare as he took his cock in his hand, stroking it gently.

“Max,” You whimpered, knees trembling.

“Shorts off,” He commanded, tone leaving no room for debate. You obeyed, taking your time. Max licked his lips, watching every move. He moved quickly, once more pinning you against the wall. The tip of his cock brushed your stomach. The thought of him moving inside you had your eyelids fluttering shut and arching your back, desperate for any sort of contact.

“I am yours,” Max promised, shifting so his cock nudged at your entrance. “And you…” He paused, rolling his hips and causing you to gasp. “You’re the reason I have anything to give in the first place.”

He slammed into you, letting out a breathless moan as he gave you a moment to adjust. God, his cock filled you so fucking perfectly. Max gripped your hips to keep you steady as he pounded into you. Your head emptied of anything outside this room, a hand clamping over your mouth to keep the curses back.

“Let me hear you,” He demanded, ripping your hand away.

“Fuck! Fuck, Max, don’t stop,” You breathed, utterly unable to form a coherent thought. All that mattered was him having his way with you, the way his eyes lit up when you said his name.

“There’s my good girl,” He purred, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Long gone were the days that he was hesitant with you. He knew what you wanted, knew how to make you squirm. He had memorized every line of your body, worshipping your body like your release was the only victory he had ever desired.

He flicked the mound between your legs with a practiced move, causing you to cry out. Max’s thrusts intensified, knowing you were close. Your breathing grew ragged, nails dragging across his back as that knot in your stomach tightened.

“Max, please-”

“Yes,” He rumbled, his permission finally sending you tumbling over the edge to orgasm. Legs shaking, Max held you steady as he gave a few more quick thrusts, finally pulling out to spill himself on your stomach.

“Bet you’re proud of that too,” He said between breaths.

You laugh, still lost in your bliss. “Actually, yeah. Yeah I am. I’m proud of everything about you Max Verstappen, but especially the sex.”

Max retrieved a warm wash cloth to clean you up with and grinned. “Fancy another go then?”

You threw your arms around his neck, enthralled by the notion that you landed him. “Only if you promise to win next weekend for me.”

“Deal.”

#max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfiction

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

something out of a disney movie

sigma chi jj x reader

leading up to winter formal and a glimpse at the weekend ahead

finished school today :) kinda drunk at the moment so there’s that

(warnings: cursing, same editing as usual)

You worked on the cooler for so long after JJ asked you to his frat’s Winter Formal. From YouTube videos to Google searches to social media groups, you’d looked through it all trying to come up with ideas.

Sarah, who was working on John B’s at the same time, offered to do it with you. The two of you holed up in her apartment working together when you finally decided a proper theme. “What about the Outer Banks?” you asked Sarah.

She hummed, “Like what do you mean?”

“Stuff he likes to do that we’ve done together, surfing and fishing, some of his favorite restaurants. That kind of vibe.”

“That’s pretty personal, but I like it since you guys are actually dating.”

You smiled, excited, “Me too. Okay, let’s do this.”

After the cooler was solved, you realized you needed a dress. Sarah stepped in yet again to take you to a boutique she really liked. The two of you were browsing happily, a glass of champagne handed to you at the door.

Maybe that should’ve been a sign of how expensive everything in the store was going to be, but you didn’t process that until you’d pulled a few to try on and accidentally flipped a price tag over.

Choking on your sip, you exclaimed, “$250 holy fuck!”

Sarah wandered over, “What’s up?”

“This is so expensive. Dude, I’m not sure I can justify this.”

She waved your concerns away, “Don’t worry, I’ll sugar daddy you.”

Part of you, a big part of you, wanted to say no, you didn’t need charity. But you figured eventually, through coffee and food, you could pay her back.

“I-” you paused, “are you absolutely sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I get discounts here, no worries! Pick out the dress that you love, no looking at price.”

So you did. It was really cute, and both Sarah and the lady working really hyped you up about it, of course you had to get it after that. Sarah sent JJ a picture of the color so he could match, but told him he couldn’t see it until the day of.

When he begged, she sent back its so pretty maybank. be patient

“Okay,” you told JJ stepping into his room, “I have the cooler outside the door with the alcohol if you want to look now.”

JJ stood up from where he was laying on the bed excitedly, “I wanna see it.”

You held your hand out and he took it, walking outside the door with him. He looked down at it and smiled. Crossing your arms in front of you after he dropped your hand to turn it around, you asked, “What do you think?”

“It’s fantastic.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Of course! I mean I’d like anything because it was from you and I’m a fan of everything you do.”

Your cheeks heated up, “Sap.”

“Only for you.”

“I wasn’t sure what alcohol you wanted so I grabbed some vodka and tequila. Plus some White Claw for either mixing or pre-game. Figured we could pick up some mixers on the way out.”

“Sounds great to me,” he bent down to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’m so excited for this.”

“I am too,” you told him honestly, “when do we leave?”

“Few hours. Figure it won’t be too long a drive, and we won’t have to leave super early. You got your bag in the car?”

“I do.”

“Sweet. Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Absolutely.”

JJ laid back down on the bed, giving you room to crawl in next to him and started the Grinch movie. About 30 minutes after it started, his head snapped over to face you, “How’d you get the alcohol Miss Underaged?”

“Sarah helped with that. Not sure how she did it, but I got her a list and Venmoed her my share.”

“The two of you did a lot together for this, huh?”

“Well it is a first for both of us, so of course we did.”

JJ shook his head, “Should’ve known y’all would end up decent friends.”

The drive to Charleston was short, and JJ led the two of you to check into your hotel room. It was a fairly basic room, and he immediately disappeared to the bathroom to start getting ready. All you had left to do was put on your dress.

“Let’s try to not be late, yeah J?”

“Too late at least. You’re never on time, hon.”

You scoffed, “Maybe this is me turning over a new leaf.”

He stuck his head out the room to give you an incredulous look, “No.”

“I’ll prove you wrong for sure.”

“Bet I’ll finish getting ready before you do even though you’re already mostly ready.”

Your jaw tightened, but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, “Bet.”

You weren’t entirely sure how ready JJ was, only that if you wanted to be first, you needed to start getting your dress on. The one thing you had going for you was that he struggled tying a tie and he’d have to figure that out before he could be finished.

JJ stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, tightening his belt, and you stood up, already in your dress with a smirk on your face, “I win.”

He rolled his eyes, “Win what?”

“We bet but since we don’t normally bet money, you have to bring me drinks all night.”

“It’s my formal.”

“Yeah, it’s still your formal, but you have the added responsibility of keeping my cup full. I’d do the same for you if you were better at getting dressed.”

“Dude,” JJ shook his head, “I’ll give you this one, but I’ll get you next year.”

“Sure,” you smirked.

And then it was like JJ processed that you were in the dress because his jaw dropped and he let out a low whistle, “Damn.”

“What do you think?”

“You look,” he paused, “incredible, beautiful, stunning, all the good adjectives.”

Shaking your head, you smiled, “Thanks, J.”

“I’m gonna have the prettiest date there tonight.”

“Now that’s an exaggeration,” you told him, ears warming under the attention.

“I never exaggerate.”

You were both late. The party was in full swing when the two of you finally got downstairs, and JJ kept his arm around your waist tightly the whole time the two of you walked around. There was a small buffet set up that the two of you ate a little bit from, but JJ took you straight to the alcohol for your first cups.

It was loud and dark in the hotel ballroom, barely lit by candles scattered all over the room like out of some sort of Disney movie, and you couldn’t see much, but JJ found Pope and John B fairly quickly. Sarah and Pope’s date were both there, and you felt relieved, finally being with someone you knew.

“Wow,” Sarah called out when she saw you, “worth every penny.”

You did a little twirl, “Looks pretty good,” you admitted.

“Pretty,” JJ scoffed, “try very or incredibly.”

Sarah snorted, “Hype man JJ. I’m glad your tie is the right color to match.”

“Hype man?” John B interrupted, “more like simp.”

“I paid attention,” he defended, “and you fuck off.”

“This time,” you muttered. JJ playfully poked your nose, “Slandering my name there sweetheart.”

“I’d never,” you told him, placing a hand over your heart.

In lieu of an answer, JJ pulled you out on the dance floor. You smiled, recognizing his deflection tactic, but let it happen.

He twirled you around twice, and you laughed when he almost stepped on your toes.

“Careful bud,” you told him, “Trying to knock me out?”

“By stepping on your toes? No.”

“Trying to get out of dancing then?”

He smiled softly, “With you? Never.”

You couldn’t help but kiss him at his sappy words, excited for the long weekend ahead.

for day 15 of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: winter formal

#sigma chi!jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #frat!jj #outer banks #outer banks fic #obxmermaidholiday

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

Ashido Mina

a/n: so, here’s to the start of my event! sfw is above the cut, nsfw is below it! I’m having a lot of fun with these and I hope you all enjoy :D

SFW

A = Affection (How affectionate are they with a s/o?)

Super affectionate with you. You need a hug, a kiss??? Mina will provide everything needed

B = Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?)

Come out of nowhere and hug her from behind, or plan something super romantic and spontaneous, she’s such a romantic that the more cliche the better

C = Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

Mina loves being the big spoon because she loves to bury her nose into your hair. She will cuddle with you whenever you please honesty

D = Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

She wants nothing more than to win a dancing competition with you, or at the very least join one with you

E = Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

A lot of effort, she’s the type to date intending on marrying who she’s marrying so, you better treat her right

F = Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?)

She will get a big blanket and roll you up and just hold you, you’re a burrito baby now

G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?)

she is the type to give you over the top things. think of jim’s present to pam during christmas before they got together… yeah, pretty intimate and intense but something you’ll love.

mina loves a gift in return and she especially loves gifts where she gets to do thinking’s with you!

H = Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

hugging all the time!!! she loves touching you!!!

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

a total romantic, everything she does for you is done with hearts in her eyes, and she has no issues with prodcasting such love

J = Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

while not one too typical to get jealous because she trusts in you, when she gets jealous know she gets touchy. like stand behind you with her mouth to your neck touchy.

K = Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?)

minas kisses are super gentle and sweet, she’s not the best kisser but she’s so passionate about it that you forget. if you go a day without getting at least ten kisses from mina, something’s wrong

L = Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

mina doesn’t know what to do when she figures out she loves you. it’s something she’s always imagined feeling but now that it’s real she can only gape like a fish. she’ll accidentally blurt it out before her 10 step plan to confess happens. she prefers to show it then say it.

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?)

she wants a full out reception party. she wants the biggest dance floor and the two of you to perform 194930 dances together.

N = Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

mina actually treasures dates where the two of you stay in! the both of you lead busy outside lives that intimate ones indoors resonate deeper within her heart

O = Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?)

there’s not much she wouldn’t do for you, but on the rarest of occasions she’ll let you touch her horns.

P =Playful (Are they playful in a relationship? If so, how do they play around/mess with their s/o?)

super playful relationship! playing nerd gun fights in pjs at two in the morning! laughter is always echoing in the hallways with you two

Q = Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?)

she’ll always ask for opinions on things she’s unsure of and will ALWAYS give her own thoughts about it

R = Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

she is a very big on the spot person! not that she doesn’t plan things out, just successwise she has better on the spot events

S = Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?)

the two of you nap together more, especially during high school because you both are too nervous at getting caught in the others room overnight!

T = Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?)

trusts you completely. if she didn’t trust you, she wouldn’t have ever asked you out

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a s/o?)

how deeply she loves. your hobbies will become her hobbies. it doesn’t matter because mina loves dancing and you do it with her, so you best believe she will do whatever hobby you love the most!

V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

being vulnerable with you is super hard for mina because she’s always just so hyper and cheery, that the first time she’s vulnerable it makes you worry because it’s super super scary to see her sad and horns wilting as if in response. it takes about three months for her to show you this side.

W = Wild Card (Get a random domestic headcanon of the character of your choice)

mina loves comparing her hand size with you. whether they’re bigger or smaller than hers, she’s just fascinated by your hands she can’t help but stare and compare.

X = X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?)

suddenly number 18 in the class is outperforming number 1 in the class. she becomes instant health genius as she does anything to make you feel better

“mina is just a paper cut!”

“if we make it a slightly deeper cut you won’t feel the stinging pain anymore!”

Y = Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

constant negativity. like the yucky kind that drains the fun from everything. she hates that in a s/o so much. like there’s a difference between that and being a pessimist and she sees and understands that.

Z = Zeal (Are they passionate as a s/o? Do they want or like passion?)

she wants and LIKES THE PASSION OKAY?! give mina her ideal love 2k19

NSFW:

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Mina lays there breathing for a full 5 minutes

She is always overwhelmed post sex, just give her a minute

While not the best at cleaning up, she lowkey loves just laying in your guys mess, she will always cuddle and hold you.

Lots of pillow talk

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On herself, mina prides herself on her arms and legs, she’s extremely proud of her natural strength

Mina is a useless boobs gal.

dangle them in her fucking face p U H L E A S E

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Mina fucking loves it when she can get herself to squirt

Like one you guys figure out how to make her squirt it’s going to happen every time y’all fuck cuz it sorta reminds her of her quirk

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has definitely masturbated to an innocuous picture of you when the two of you went months without seeing each other

never masturbated until the two of you got together tbh

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Is not experienced at all prior to you! Mina is a romantic with a terrible streak prior to you, but she is a fluid person so she nails everything in the bed fast

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Favorite position is kneeling. She gets to hold you tight and full access to your boobs.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Definitely, the lover who goes from super romantic and intimate sex to can barely take this seriously love making

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Always groomed. The second she knew she was gonna fuck you she got that shit waxed. She has a heart strip though, and yes, her pubes are curly and pink

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Sex with mina is very very intimate, even if its in a joking matter. She truly cherishes everything about you and will always try making your sex life as amazing as possible

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Loves masturbating together. Like loves it so much. She loves watching you please yourself while she… ahem… assists you with some toys

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Hair-pulling: she loves having her hair pulled and the feeling of fingers knotting into her curls, degradation: she loves calling you impolite names because of the way you react, roleplaying: LOVES DRESSING UP AND CREATING A NEW PERSONALITY OKAY

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

By far her most favorite place to have sex is in the backseat of a car. It’s risky and hot. She’s addicted.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Physical reactions. Moan for her, move your body and praise what shes doing for you. Also when you wear that one big t-shirt with your hottest lingerie underneath and give her a lap dance

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

DO NOT TOUCH HER HORNS. THE MOMENT THEY ARE TOUCHED SHE’S DONE

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Loves giving more. Only on special occasions does she like having the attention on her, but for the most part, she will spoil you

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

All depends on her mood! She genuinely loves going fast and rough, but on anniversary nights, she enjoys slow and sensual paces

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Is definitely down to have a quickie, she thinks it’s hot, but only once every 2 years. She just enjoys being able to hear you scream as loudly as she can make you scream.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Very experimental! The two of you have designated days for trying out new things just because you’re never too sure

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Mina actually comes really fast, it’s a big reason as to why she prefers focusing on you! But she has good stamina and can last to three full and kinky rounds.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Toys are a must.

Vibrators, dildos, strap on, anal beads.

You think of one, you two own it.

They are very used and will go interchangeably, but are more often used on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not that big of a tease actually. Like she may abuse vibrator rights, but it’s not in a teasing way! More like a “i’m trying to make you squirt” way

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

She’s very loud in bed!

Moaning, whining, mewling, and sometimes even begging

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The first time the two of you had sex, mina came twice in under two minutes. Once because of how your breasts felt rubbing against hers and when you pressed your soaked cunt against her own

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those shirts and pants, picture or words)

Mina is a blessed girl with round perky breasts, probably a dd-cup. her right one is actually bigger surprisingly! And she has inverted nipples. She has larger than average labia

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Went from sorta there to we fuck at minimum five times a week.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Takes her forever to fall asleep, will be awake long after you pass out

#ashido mina #ashido mina x reader #ashido x reader #mina x reader #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha mina #mha #mha x reader #mha headcanons #mha mina #bnha headcanons #mina headcanons #mina smut #burnedbyshoto 2000 follower event

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thefanficmonster · 4 years

Text

Forever With You

Sam Giddings (Until Dawn) x Emo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Death, Mourning, Swearing, Slight Gore

Genre: Angst

Summary: Living with knowing that your life was basically given back to you from near-death thanks to the demise of a loved one is the closest feeling to death with your heart still beating. Sam now knows that. The whole group knows that. Good thing friends stick together even after death.

Requested by my lovely Until Dawn Anon. Hi babyy! I hope you enjoy the read and I sure as hell hope this isn’t the last request of yours I’ll be writing. We’re business partners at this point LOL. Love you ❤❤❤

QUICK NOTE - Some elements of this fic, by request of Until Dawn Anon, have been inspired by a certain drama series. I’m not gonna name it to avoid spoilers for both the show and this fic, but whoever’s watched the show will recognize which show is being referenced.

Sam’s POV

“You’d make a mean hunter!“ Chris comments as Y/N lowers the shotgun after shooting her mark for the fifth time.

“Nah, I’d never hurt animals.“ She gives him a sincere smile, “But I appreciate you thinking I have the proper skillset.“

We’re waiting for the world’s slowest cable car to make its way to our station, aka the lower station so we can meet up with the rest of our group, assuming that any of them are already there.

When I arrived at the station Chris, Ashley and Y/N were already there. They were sitting on the benches outside the station, waiting for me. I was actually supposed to take the same bus as them but something came up right as I was about to head to the bus station, forcing me to take the bus an hour after theirs.

“Sam, I will never forgive you for this, I swear!“ Y/N says, standing up from the bench and heading in my direction, “You let me thirdwheel alone! I mean, I could only survive watching these two beat around the bush for so long!“ She lowered her voice when she said that, giving the couple us two and Josh call Chrashley a quick glance over the shoulder.

I took her hands in mine almost instinctively, “Aw, I’m sorry. But look on the bright side: the love radiating off them is so strong it kept you warm as well!” It was true, her usually freezing hands were not so frozen. Still colder than a person’s should be, but not yet to the point of provoking concern.

She smirked, rolling her eyes, “You know I’d rather freeze to death than have love keep me warm.” She spat the word ‘love’ as though it was poisonously bitter in her mouth. Luckily, before I could say anything more, Chris dragged us to the makeshift shooting range he had found at the side of the snow covered clearing.

It didn’t take long for him and Y/N to start getting competitive with one another, like the not-blood-related siblings they are, so now Ash and I are observing their little competition of who can hit the most marks with the smallest amount of prep time. It’s obvious Y/N the one winning, but Chris isn’t the quitter type so while she is shooting even the smallest of pebbles in the snow we point out to her, he’s still aiming for the hanging sacks of sand and the glass bottles.

With the two of them being so immersed in their ‘competition’, Ashley and I are chatting while remaining a safe distance away from the shooting pair - Chris especially. Y/N has at least slight experience in the field. Being at the distance that we are, we are also out of earshot for them. So, both Ash and I bring up the obvious topic that never remains unspoken - RELATIONSHIPS.

“You and Y/N have been really close as of late. Finally making things official?“ Ash nudges the conversation first as she adjusts the beanie she’s wearing.

I sigh, a white cloud created from that breath of something between disappointment and dread, “We’re not even unofficial. We’re just friends.“ I take the opportunity to take a teasing stab at her, “I’m not luck enough to have my...“ I make quotation marks with my fingers, “’crush’ feel the same way about me. Unlike you.“ I smirk at her, noticing the color of red appearing on her cheeks despite the cold breeze that’s caressing every inch of exposed skin, making it worryingly pale.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Sam. For both of those statements.“ She says diplomatically, scanning the shooting duo with a quick once-over. “She isn’t as reserved when she’s with you. I know you don’t notice, but everyone else does. She’s different, warmer even, with you.“ I expect her to go on, explaining her situation with Chris, but she doesn’t.

As much as I’d like to get her to go on and spill a little of what she feels about Chris, even though everyone and their grandmothers already know, I can’t help but let my mind go down the rabbit hole of ‘what if’s. I’m not oblivious nor blind, I can see the way her demeanor changes around me in comparison to, let’s say, when she’s around Mike. However, she’s ‘warmer’ with Josh, Chris, Matt and Ash as well. It’s called friendliness. It’s no secret that she’s never been too fond of Emily or Jess or Mike. The friendliness of a person can so easily be taken out of context when someone’s crushing on them.

And Y/N’s friendliness especially. This girl hates romance. Absolutely hates it. The word ‘love’ itself gets her annoyed and bothered to the point of discomfort sometimes. I have never tried to probe and try to figure out why. I say I haven’t cause I respect her privacy, but truth be told I am scared. I want to believe there is a small part of her that still wants to experience a romantic relationship, a love connection, and I’m afraid that prodding the subject would shatter all the hopes I have.

How did I end up falling for this dark, broody, Catwoman like emo girl? - I have no idea. It was only natural if you ask me. I think I’m not the only one who’s so whipped by her, but I could never be sure. I mean, how could someone NOT fall for this raven badass: black hair, eyes just a shade lighter than black, tattoos - perfect combination of beauty and brains. And balls, she’s probably the boldest person I’ve ever known or will ever meet. What really caught my attention when I first laid eyes on her was the way she shined. Literally. I don’t mean that as a cheesy metaphor - the girl is always covered in jewelry that reflects the sunlight perfectly. She mesmerized me from day one. She made me a big hypocrite - I was always the one to tell Chris and Ash to make a move, to confess their feelings, and now here I am, in their shoes as though they have cursed me.

“Hey, eagle eyes! Our ride’s here.“ Ash announces, handing Chris his backpack as they fall in step, walking side by side around the station.

Y/N falls in step with me, elbowing my ribs gently, “Slow down, let’s give them some privacy.” She slows her pace to a frustratingly slow walk and I oblige, “I don’t usually say things like this, but they are really cute.”

We’d be really cute

Wait, where did that thought come from?!

“Yeah, I know.“ I say through the fog of confusion that has taken over my brain. “They sure are.“ I clear my throat, trying to hide the fact that my own mind just shocked me. Damn, what is happening to me? What is this crush doing to me? It’s exhausting and terrifying but....I don’t want it to stop.

* * *

“It’s ok, baby. You’re ok.“ Y/N’s voice echoes in the eeriness of the mines.

How did this night make a swerve for the worst so suddenly. All of it, all the horrors just piled up so suddenly. We’re fearful of our own shadows at this point. We are terrified of each other as well. We’re all in a fragile and vulnerable state, with out sanity hanging by a thread. We are all slowly losing ourselves more and more, the events of the past few hours and the hours to come dragging us in the depth of this seemingly endless void of terror.

And then there’s Y/N. Mike, her and I have just found Josh who was having some sort of hallucination-riddled breakdown in the mines. While Mike and I stood aside, contemplating our next move, Y/N didn’t waste any time hesitating. She ran right to his aid and literally pulled him out of his horrific delusions, wrapping her arms around him tightly, murmuring words of comfort as he cried on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry. For everything. I should’ve done something...I should’ve saved them.. I shouldn’t have done this to you guys.“ Josh’s sobs tear my heart to pieces. Seeing him like this is like watching a disaster happen right in front of me, but I’m incapable of doing anything to prevent it or aid help the people affected by it. I’m helpless, I can just stand aside and watch. Watch as he falls apart and Y/N desperately trying to keep him together as if she’s strong enough to carry such duty on her shoulders.

“It’ll all be over soon, it’ll all be ok. Hannah and Beth know it wasn’t your fault, Josh. We forgive you too. Please, don’t do this, at least not now.“ Just as she says those word, an inhuman screech comes from somewhere in the distance behind us, accompanied by another shortly after which came from right up-front.

Good thing we don’t have to head in either of those directions, not that we’re safe no matter which path we take. We’re walking through thigh deep water which could be hiding anything below the surface yet we wouldn’t know because it looks more like ink than water. We’re not the most discreet nor quiet as we move forward, taken that we are doing our best to push through with letting out as little curse words and sneers due to the inability to feel our lower body.

My foot hits something solid and rather sharp, most likely a large stone, causing me to let out a loud hiss before I could stop it. I freeze, listening on the noises surrounding us, expecting those screeches to emerge from behind the nearest wall and put an end to this torture we’re enduring.

I nearly jump out of my skin when a hand wraps around my wrist gently. My first instinct is to pull away, all my muscles tensing as I try to take a step back.

“Hey, hey relax. It’s ok.“ Y/N’s voice is unusually soft and sweet, just like when she was comforting Josh. It’s the voice she uses when aiding a hurt animal, or calming a weeping baby. “You’re ok, nothing bad will happen to us, ok Sam? We’re making it out of here.“ She’s carrying the mom role, the older sister role, the nurse role and the pillar we’re all leaning on for support. She’s keeping it together so we can too.

Her hand moves down to mine, unfolding my fingers that I’ve curled into a tight fist due to the uncomfortable sensation of being half frozen and half numb. He holds my hand open while quickly slipping off a ring from her pointer finger and putting it on mine. It has a small brightly blue rock on it. I recognize it right away - it’s the only ring she wears permanently. She changes all her other accessories, but never this ring. I can swear I’ve heard her joke that she’d like to be buried with it when the time comes.

“The lady that gave me this ring said it symbolizes the courage to carry on while carrying the world on your shoulders, and that really stuck with me.“ Her tone takes me to a different place, somewhere nice, safe and warm. Her words wrap around me like a safety blanket, for a moment letting me forget everything: the past few hours, the present and the yet to be determined future. “I have a feeling you need that courage more than I do.“

I nod but I’m physically unable to look up and meet her eyes. My gaze is fixated on her hands, which I’ve never felt so warm, holding mine as though it’s made of porcelain.

“If you keep going at this rate, all your jewelry will end up on me.“ I fish the necklace from underneath my hoodie, holding the charm so she can see it.

It’s a necklace she gave me right before she went on her first forest ranger training program. We weren’t sure if we’d see her again when we were at the train station saying goodbye. She said there was a chance of her staying at the camp to fully devote herself to what she wanted for her future. Thankfully though, she returned about four months later. I remember how hard I had to fight my tears that day. I should’ve know it would be useless - Y/N notices everything. That necklace, a beautiful blood red circular pendant hanging on a silver chain, was her saying ‘see you soon, hopefully’. I haven’t taken it off me since.

“I’ve already written it all to you in my will.“ She gives my hand a squeeze before letting go and continuing forward. After a brief return to the present reality I follow, making sure to always be an arm reach away at most from Y/N. Being within close proximity to her makes me feel like it will be alright. I mean, she said it would be, and she’s never wrong.

We enter an area where the water isn’t as still anymore. It rushes towards this small cliff where it creates a waterfall, pooling in the lower level in the form of a deep lake. The water is way higher there and the ground at the bottom is not reachable.

“Let’s try not to get pulled.“ Mike declares, his walk now more of a struggle just like everyone else’s “If we can reach that wall without dying we should be ok.“

We all nod, more as a way of reassuring ourselves than a response to his statement. We are less than fifteen feet away, I have a strong belief we can make it.

Ten feet away. We’re almost there.

And then we hear it - a deafening screech. It’s right next to me.

We turn to see that monster grab Y/N by her throat, throwing her into the water. Before we even have time to react, it’s too late. The thing has once again picked her up, holding her high above the surface of the water. She looks at me, her eyes screaming the way her vocal chords can’t. The fear has silenced her.

The wendigo’s other hand pierces through her chest, pulling her heart out.

She’s gone. She’s gone. She can’t be gone! WHY HER?! Why couldn’t it be me?! Why am I still drawing breath when she just let out her last one?! WHY DID IT GO FOR HER?! Is it because it knew that’s the quickest way to kill me?! TO KILL ALL OF US?!

The wendigo throws Y/N’s body over the cliff and into the deep lake below right before it climbs one of the stone walls and leaves our sight. It didn’t see any of us. We were too frozen to move even if we tried, of course it didn’t see us.

“We..- we gotta keep moving. Sam, come on. It’s over. She’s gone. We can’t help her.“ Each word shakier than the last, but still like sharp stabs right through my chest. Mike has taken hold of my arm and is leading me towards the wall we are supposed to climb to get out of here and back to the lodge.

* * *

I don’t remember climbing the damn thing. I don’t remember the way back to the lodge. I can faintly recall the pained cries of everyone in the basement when Mike told them what happened. All that time I couldn’t utter a single word. I couldn’t comprehend what had happened. It all happened so out of the blue and it was over so quickly, like it wasn’t the end of a human life. Like it didn’t matter and it wouldn’t have any lasting effects on anything that followed. As though her death wasn’t worth to be remembered.

It all sunk in only after I was out of that hell-hole lodge, the flames dancing in front of my eyes, surrounding the structure that within its walls held several of those monsters, one of which was the one that killed Y/N.

Y/N

Thinking of her got me to look down at the pendant of the necklace around my neck, the fire being reflected off its smooth red surface. Like a pool of blood in the middle of a forest caught by a wildfire.

See you soon, hopefully

I take one look at those woods, my heart sinking at the thought that behind those trees there’s an entrance to the mines. The mines that are now the resting place of the girl I loved. The girl that deserved better.

“Sam, they’re here. We’re safe. They’re saving us. It’s finally over.“ Mike’s words are nothing but a faint echo at the back of my conscience.

What’s on the front lines of my mind is that phrase - See you soon, hopefully. I’ll be seeing her soon. But not through death, she would never wish that upon me or anyone.

She’ll come back. She won’t let this be the end. She’s too stubborn.

“SAM!“ The screams fail to reach me completely as I run as though my life depends on it. My feet barely touch the ground, my instinct leading me to the nightmarish depths of this mountain.

I will not allow it to be your resting place, Y/N!

I jump from the top of the wall into the shallow water, letting the water drag my shaky form towards the cliff. With zero hesitation or doubt, no regard for the filthiness of the water or the horrors that may await me below its surface.

It’s pitch black. I can’t see or feel a thing. My body feels like it’s being stabbed by thousands of needles, causing it to go numb. I push my lungs to their limits, testing every cell of my body, begging them to not fail me.

The discourage starts settling in, accompanied by the pain that’s spreading throughout my chest due to the lack of oxygen. I’m just about to swim to the surface to breathe when I see it.

A glow. More of a reflection, actually. The reflection I was talking about earlier. The minimal light that’s pushing its way into the mines has made it to this depth and is being reflected by a metal ring connected to a pale hand.

Dizziness and pain all but forgotten, I push myself to swim lower, grasping the hand and giving it my all to pull it up. I only realize I’m above water when air enters my lungs in large gulps. It takes me a second to take in the fact that I’m holding the bloody, pale, unmoving body of Y/N with a hole through her chest.

“Please...“ I beg through gasps for breath, “Please open your eyes, live. Oh God, a wendigo or not just...just please come back to me, Y/N! Come back to take me with you!“

Despite my words of desperation, my screams of agony, I know they are in vain. I know she wouldn’t come back even if she could. She would rather stay dead than return as a threat to her friends with the risk of actually hurting them. She would never bring harm to her loved ones.

Images flash before my eyes: The hurt in her eyes when Josh’s scheme was revealed; Her comforting Ashley while Chris was out with the Flamethrower Guy; Talking Mike into putting the gun away and not shooting Em; Her standing up to Emily, grabbing her arm before she could hit Ash; Her comforting the disoriented and scared Josh we found in the mines; Her looking at me a second before her death.

There are two scenes that have been permanently engraved in my memory: Seeing her shining form for the first time and seeing her ink-like eyes, filled with terror for the last time.

* * *

We’re sitting in a room with bright neon lights and security cameras in each corner. I don’t remember how I got here. I don’t even remember leaving the mines. We were all given a change of clothes and a blanket. They offered us food and something to drink to refuel our bodies but after those horrors we saw, non of us are able to hold anything down. Josh was taken to a separate room the moment the helicopter landed and we haven’t seen him since.

I’m sitting on a bench next to Chris and Ashley, opposite Mike, Jess and Emily. Poor Jess has had it the roughest out of all of us. She has been drained of all emotion, her face isn’t even pale - more see-through. Mike’s arm is protectively wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her close. Matt and Emily are holding hands, unable to say anything to each other. Chris has Ashley tightly wrapped in his arms as though he’s prepared to protect her from anything.

And I’m alone.

I saw a black body bag being unloaded from the helicopter. I knew whose body it contained. No one dared say a word about it. We had run out of tears and words at that point.

I keep my head hanging low, my eyes fixated on the white tiled floor beneath my feet. The lights are too bright compared to my pitch black world. It’s all just empty and meaningless now. Looking back, I should’ve taken my own advice and spoken up about how I felt. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, maybe everything would’ve been different. And that’s the real torment - I will never know.

I straighten up, squinting at the artificial blinding lights, resting my back against the wall behind me. As I’m doing so, I catch a glimpse of something shiny in front of me.

My heart leaps.

It’s such an irrational reaction to something so simple. So ordinary to anyone else.

The shine is coming from the light reflecting off the chain Mike’s wearing around his neck. A familiar chain I’ve seen on someone else.

“That’s Y/N’s.“ I bark at him angrily, gaining his attention, “Why do you have it?!“

“Sam...“ Chris’ hand rests on my arm, “We all have something hers. She was sentimental, remember?“

‘Was‘. That change from ‘is‘ to ‘was‘ is killing me. And the ease with which everyone has accepted that Y/N is now a thing of the past.

“She gave me a bracelet.“ Ashley shows me her wrist

“She gave me this cool watch...“ Chris rolls up his sleeve, “I’m glad it survived all the crap it was put through with me. Not a scratch.“

“She’d haunt you if you scratched it.“ Matt smiles but his eyes are dull with sadness

“She’ll haunt us regardless.“ Emily says, “I hope she does.“

The rest of the crew shows the pieces Y/N left them of herself and it’s the most heartwarming while also heartbreaking feeling. The room has a different atmosphere all of a sudden. We are seven people, each with a soul of our own and a piece of Y/N’s.

As long as all the pieces are near each other, she’ll be alive and present. She’ll live on to watch over us and guide us. She’s probably looking down at us right now, relieved that we made it out. Overjoyed that Chris and Ashely are finally where they’re supposed to be - in each other’s arms. Glad Matt and Emily have found a stable middle ground. Proud of Jess for what she survived back there and happy she has found safety in Mike’s embrace. And what does she feel about me? As I said, I’ll never know, I can only hope she heard what I said to her back in the mines.

Assumptions aside, her message is crystal clear and leaves no room for speculations:

As long as we’re together, she’ll be with us. Forever.

17 notes · View notes

general-rusty · 5 years

Text

Hazbin AU Swap

Alastor the host to hell's 6th most popular radio station, out got of him apartment to see the ruins from his balcony. He clears his throat and started to sing.

Chasing Happiness ♪ At the end of the journey there's happiness ♪ ♪ And to find it, how often I’ve tried ♪ ♪ But my life is a race ♪ ♪ Just a wild goose chase ♪ ♪ And my hopes, they were just a lie♪ ♪ Why have I always been a failure ♪ ♪ What could the reason be ♪ ♪ I wonder if the world's to blame ♪ ♪ I wonder if it could be me ♪ ♪ I'm always looking for hope♪ ♪ searching them with my tears♪ ♪ My schemes are just like all my dreams ♪ ♪ Ending every year♪ ♪ Some fellows look and find the sunshine ♪ ♪ I always look and find the rain ♪ ♪ Some fellows make a winning sometime ♪ ♪ I never even make the game ♪ ♪ Believe me ♪ ♪ I'm always looking for hope♪ ♪ Waiting to find the happiness♪ ♪ In vain ♪

In the streets of Hell

A Demon falls from the sky and lands on the ground. "Oh, I’m alive. I’m alive!" He said

A motorcycle runs him over and stop to drop off a leatherjacket wearing Niffty. "Heh. Thanks for the fun time, hot stuff." A male raccoon demon said.

"Yeah, yeah, listen. Keep this discreet, hear me? I can’t let it get out I’m offering my services to creeps on the street. It was a quick cash grab, ya got it?" Niffty said

The Raccoon scoffs, "Whatever you say, slut!" He laughs

"Ouch, ooh, such an insult! Let me know when you come up with something creative to call me you sack of poorly packaged horse shit. Tell the mrs' I said hi. Schnookums." Niffty quipped

The motorcycle rides off

Niffty brush the dust off of herself. A hooded demon grab the cash out of Niffty's hand "Yoink!"

"Hey!" Niffty shouted

"Up yours, midget!" The hooded demon shouted. A rock falls onto the hooded demon.

Niffty gasps, "Oh my god! My money! Dang it!" She shouted

Up on Ms Cherri's ship.

"HAHAHA! THOSE WEAK SINNERS WONT DARE TOUCH MY TERRITORY OF DESTRUCTION! A WISE DECISION, THE POWER OF MY EXPLOSIVES ARE UNMATCHED! NOW ONE, ONE COULD COMPARE TO THE LIKENESS OF I!" Ms Cherri laughed. Cherri now wears a ugly red pantsuit.

"Gee, that is pretty good, boss!" One of Cherri's cherryboi yuppie minions said

"Yeah! You really showed them what for!" another Cherryboi said

"I loved it when you blow them up them with your grenade launcher." said a Cherryboi

"I wish she’d shoot me with her grenade launcher." cried a Cherryboi

Another Cherryboy pat his Cherrybrother's back.

"IN A FEW DAYS ILL DESTROY THE ENTIRE EAST SIDE OF THE PENTAGRAM! HELL WILL BE RUINED! AND EVERY ONE WILL FEAR THE NAME OF MS. CH-" Ms Cherri yelled.

"SSSLUT!" A wise guy shouted.

"DAFUQ!? WHO SAID THAT! WHAT DID YOU SAID SHITTY EXCUSE FOR A FRUIT!? SPEAK THE FUCK UP!" Cherri threatened.

A explosive egg bot was YEETED through the windshield and explodes in front of everyone.

Pentious now in patches and his top hat is a now flat cap, jumps through the hole in the windshield, "You looking for a fight, filthy whore? why won't you take your little whore house nonsense of my territory before I sssmasssh it." a support beam falls on to a cherryboi. "more..." Pentious threatened.

"OH YOU WANNA GO GRANDPA!? I HOPE YOU LIKE GUNPOWDER BECAUSE THAT'S ALL YOU WILL GET!" Cherri shouted while her Cherrybois surround Pentious.

The morning report. Two demons were at the desk. A oppressive suited man with white combed to the side hair and a gasmask for a face. And a frail white blonde woman with red eyes. "Good afternoon! I’m Tommy Trench." Tommy announced.

"And I’m Kate Killjoy. Chaos at a pentagram city today as a turf war is raging on the east side. Between notable Queen pin Ms Cherri Bomb and self-proclaimed wise guy Pentious." Kate reported.

"That’s right Kate! After the recent extermination, many areas are now up for grabs! Demons all over Hell are already duking it out to gain new territory!" Tommy reported.

"Those two seem to really be going at it, huh?" Kate repiled.

"Looks like they’re fighting tooth and nail for that hot spot!" Tommy pulls a tooth and nail out of the mug, place them on the desk, and smash them with his fist.

"And I’d sure love to get my hot spot nailed by him." Kate giggles.

Tommy chuckles, "You sure are a big pussy whore, Kate. Or should I say-" Tommy pours coffee onto Kate's crotch -Burnt Pussy."

"Not again!" Kate cried. Kate curled up in pain.

"Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the host of Hell’s 6th most popular radio, who’s here to discuss his brand-new passion project! All that and more, after the break!" Tommy crushes the mug. "Suck it up you little bi-"

Backstage.

Alastor now a lot more tender and tweak like, and Husk which is wearing a withered red and black leisure suit. "Okay. You remember what to say?" Husk ask.

Alastor took a deep breath. "Okay! Let’s do this!"

"Look at me, and I’ll mouth it to you." Husk said.

"Come on, Husker! I know all of the currant slang terms! I just feel like we need to- I don’t know, make things sound more glamour and darb-" Alastor gasp, "Oh! What if I-"

"-sing a song about it?" Husk said.

Alastor chuckles, "You knew I was gonna say that."

"Because you're like a book. But please don’t fucking sing. This is serious." Husk stated

"Well you know, I’m better at expressing myself and my goals through song! It's my job after all." Alastor said.

"But this isn’t like the radio, Al." Husk

"Okay I’ll just have to resort to my impeccable improve skills." Alastor said with a southern bell accent.

Now with Tommy Trench.

Alastor walks up to Tommy. "Hi! I’m Alastor." holds out his hand.

"Tommy Trench." Tommy drops the cigarette and stomps on it. "I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but that's a horseshit lie. You can put that away." Alastor pulls his hand back. "I don’t touch the mixes. I have standards."

"Yeah? How’s uh- how’s that working out for ya?" Alastor asked while a support beam falls down onto a crewman. "Can someone help me!" the crewman screamed in pain.

"Look, my time is money, so I’ll keep this short. We’re not here because we wanted you here, you’re here because Rodney couldn’t make it for his dating show."

Alastor looked past Tommy's shoulder to see Kate rolling her eyes.

"You might be some radio bigshot, but that doesn’t mean shit to me. I’m too rich and too influential to give a flying fuck about what some tux-wearing F list radio host wants to advertise." Tommy got into Alastor's face.

"But I-" Alastor stuttered.

"-So don’t get funny with me buddy, or I will fucking end you." Tommy threatened.

"And we’re live!" A crewman shouted.

Tommy ran back to his seat and Alastor walks to his seat. "Welcome back! So, Alex-" Alastor interrupts, "It’s Alastor."

"Whatever. Tell us about this new passion project you’ve been insistently pestering our news station about!" Tommy grips the handgun in his jacket.

Alastor clears his throat, "As most of you know, I have been here in Hell since 1933, and if you remember life wasn't easy back then, but as you can see life is a lot worse here than it was there. I always tried to see the good in everything around me. Hell is my home, and you are my people. We-" Tommy shoots a bug with that handgun. Blood splashes onto Alastor's face. "We just went through another extermination. We lost so many souls, and it breaks my heart to see my people being slaughtered every year. No one is even given a chance! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such violence! So, I’ve been thinking. Isn’t there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through… redemption? Well I think yes. So that’s what this project aims to achieve! Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!" Alastor announce.

...

"Y’know? ‘Cause hotels are for people passing through… temporarily."

In a dive bar in the hick part of hell. A bear demon laughes, "Is this guy for real? He thinks, you hear what this city boy thinks? he-' short laugh "-Oh, he’s nuts."

The camera man spoke up. "Stupid nig-"

Husk uppercuts the camera man.

"Look, every single one of you has something good deep down inside. I know you do. Maybe I’m not getting through to you." Alastor said

Husk sighs "Oh no."

Alastor snaps his fingers to bring his jazz band in.

♪ We have a dream ♪ ♪ We wish to tell ♪ ♪ And it’s just ball ♪ ♪ ‘Cause you’re one of a kind ♪ ♪ A charming demon belle! ♪ ♪ Now let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell ♪ ♪ (Take it, boys!) ♪ ♪ (Boo!) ♪ ♪ Inside of every demon is a cause ♪ ♪ We’ll dress ‘em up and give them a smile! ♪ ♪ (With a smile!) ♪ ♪ And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool ♪ ♪ With some old redemption flair ♪ ♪ And show these guys some proper class and style! ♪ ♪ (What’s in style?) ♪ ♪ (Oh!) ♪ ♪ Here below the ground ♪ ♪ I’m sure your plan is sound! ♪ ♪ They’ll spend a little time ♪ ♪ Down at this Happy Ho-- ♪

Random demon: "Shut the fuck up! That is shit!"

Everyone laughs uncontrollably.

"What in the nine circles makes you think a single denizen of Hell would give two shits about becoming a better person? You have no proof that this little experiment even works! You want people to be good just… because?" Tommy and Kate laughs.

"Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause, and she’s shown incredible progress!" Alastor shouted

"Oh? And who might that be?" Tommy asked.

"Oh, just someone named… Niffty." Alastor replied.

"The porn star?" Kate asked.

Tommy slowly turns around pointing that handgun at Kate. "You fucking would, Kate." Tommy turns back around. "In any case, that’s not even an accomplishment. I’m sure you can get that hooker to do anything with enough booger sugar and lube."

"Oh, I beg to differ. She’s been behaved, clean, and out of trouble for 2 weeks now." Alastor replied.

"Breaking news!" Shouted a crewman

Tommy pushed Alastor away. "We are receiving word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war! Let’s go to the live feed!"

Shows Niffty kicking Cherryboi ass.

"Di Mi!." Alastor whispered.

"Dee Me indeed! It looks like the one who just joined the battle is none other than-" gasp "-porn actress Niffty! What a juicy coincidence! You must feel really stupid right now." Tommy said

Tommy and Kate laugh. "Ratings!"

Alastor gasped, "Don’t look at this!" He tried to hid the window on the greenscreen.

"Well, it sure looks like your little project is dead on arrival. Tell us, how does it feel to be such a total failure?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah? Well- how does it feel that I got your pen, huh? Dick?!" Alastor shouted.

Tommy went silent.

Alastor nervously laughs, "Sorry." Put the pen back.

Kate runs away while Tommy got the flamethrower

Back in the streets

"Hey thanks for the backup, Niffts!" Pentious shouted.

"You kiddin'? This is the best action I've seen in ages!" Niffty replied.

Pentious throws a egg bomb. "Where have you been anyways? I thought you died or something."

"Oh I wish! I've been staying at this dirty hotel on the other side of town. Some guys let me stay rent free if I play nice His words, not mine. These assholes are no fun! I’ve been clean for two weeks!" Niffty answered.

"Holy crap." Pentious replied.

"Well, sorta clean. As clean as you can get with a shitload of Bolivian marching powder." Niffty replied.

Cherri whips and ties Niffty up in a vine.

"Oh, harder mommy!" Niffty moaned.

Cherri gasp, "Daughter?!"

Niffty raise the brow in a "Da fuck?" way.

"You douches have no style! In war, the side remembered is the side with the most style." Cherri pop her collar up.

"Or the side that ain’t 6 feet under." Pentious replied.

"Speaking of style, what's up with the colors, it's red this and red that. Is it that time of the month?" Pentious quipped.

"Oh, well, that’s none of your goddamn business, now is it?" Cherri shouted.

"Oh yeah we're not suppose to talk about that." Niffty quipped.

"I’m going to blow you to bits!" Cherri threatened.

"Hm! Kinky!" Niffty quipped.

"Oh, not like that! creep!" Cherri replied.

Cherriyboi shoots at Niffty with a vine net gun.

"Not so cocky now, are we?" Cherri threatened.

"Y’know, you really gotta watch what comes out of your mouth. I’ve been making these sex jokes the whole-" Cherri pulls out a smg "-TIME! And it’s obvious ya ain’t catchin’ on-" Niffty kicks Cherri, takes her gun and shoots at the Cherryboi. "-I mean, it’s just SAD!

"So think you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble for this?" Pentious asked.

"Eh, what’s one little brawl gonna cause?" Niffty asked.

Back in the newsroom.

Alastor and Tommy are going at it fisticuffs, while the flamethrower is blowing fire to the right of the desk.

Kate runs into view of the camera while on fire. "Why won’t anyone help me?!" She screams.

Back in the streets. "Glad ya haven’t changed. You know you’re my favorite gal to party with!" Pentious shouted.

"You know it, you slimy snake. You ready to finish this?" Niffty asked.

"Hell yeah, baby." Pentious answered.

Niffty, Pentious, Ms Cherri, CherryBois, Alastor, Tommy, and Kate yelling in a 4 screen split.

In the Limo driving to the hotel Niffty was playing with the window

Husk carving a wooden steak and giving Niffty the death stare.

Niffty looks up to Husk, "What?"

"What? What?! What were you fucking doing?!" Husk shouted.

Niffty sighs, "Look I owed my snake buddy a solid! Isn’t that a “redeeming quality"? Helping pals with stuff?" Niffty shouted.

"Not with turf wars that result in genocide!" Husk shouted.

"Eh, you win some, you lose a few hundred, plus didn't you caused a Genocide." Niffty snickers.

Husk throws the wooden steak at Niffty which pierced throw the window.

"Aw come on, I had to! My credibility was on the line-" Niffty sighs "-I mean, what kind of reputation would I have if people found out I was trying to go clean? It just throws out my entire persona."

"Your credibility? What about the hotel? Your little stunt made us look like fucking clowns!" Husk shouted.

"No no no, hon. Clowns are funny! I made you look… uh, sad! And pathetic! Like an orphan, with no arms, or legs… Uh… oh, with progeria! Great! Now I’m bummed thinking about it! This thing have any liquor?" Niffty asked.

"Can you please just try to take this seriously?" Husk asked.

"Fine, I’ll try, just don’t bitch to your mother while you're fucking her." Niffty quipped.

"What was that you trying to be?" Husk got up and pulled out his knife.

"Whatever pisses you off the most. Is there seriously no liquor in here?!" Niffty shouted.

"I’m gonna kill her." Husk sat back down.

"Too late, hon. Wait, would that make me double dead? And where exactly do I go, to double Hell? Sorry, you’re stuck with me, bitch. Get used to it." Niffty laughs.

"Fucking bitch!" Husk mumbled.

"Listen, who cares if some jagoffs got hurt? Most of them are ugly freaks. Look around! Got a bunch of fuckin’ harlequin babies down here." Niffty said.

"You’re one to talk." Husk quipped.

"Hey! This body is flawless! Everyone wants some of me, and I’ve got the creepy fan letters to prove it!" Niffty pulls out a letter with stains.

"That was really not swell y’know, Niffty" Alastor said.

"Not Sweel?! After that trainwreck, there is no way anyone is gonna wanna stay at the hotel. All thanks to you and your selfish bullshit!" Husk shouted.

"Does that mean I don’t have a free room anymore?" Niffty asked.

Husk pulls the knife out again.

"Ah, well, shucks." Niffty snaps.

"Hey, come on, we don’t know if things are over yet. Try to relax, Husker. It’ll be okay!" Alastor reassured.

At the Happy Hotel

The three open the door. Husk sat down on to the couch to look at his hands, his mind goes back to the war.

Niffty went to the fridge to get a beer. "It’s probably a good idea to get some actual food in this place. Y’know, to feed all the wayward souls ya got in here." Niffty laughed, but then it became nervous laughter, and then she just stops.

Alastor went out to talk to his boss. "Hey Boss. Um, I know I keep calling, and you must want that kale paid back. But um, the interview isn't sitting pretty and... I don’t know if I’m going to make a difference. I don’t know what I’m doing. I could really use some advice, Boss. I think you're right about me. A-anyway, I’ll stop talking before this gets long." Alastor went back in.

A knock to the tune of Come On Eileen was on the door.

Alastor opens the door to see Charlie in her demon form.

"Hell-"

Alastor slams the door, and then open it again to see if he just saw that.

-o."

Alastor slams the door again. "Hey Husker?

"What?!" Husk asked.

"The Musical Demon is at the door!" Alastor nervously answered.

"Holy shit what?!" Husk drops the knife.

"Uh, who?" Niffty asked

"What should I do?" Alastor asked.

"Well, don’t let that bitch in!" Husk shouted

Alastor slowly opens the door.

"May I speak now?" Charlie asked.

"You may-" Alastor said.

"Charlie, pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart, quite a pleasure. Excuse my visit, but I saw your riot on news and I just couldn’t resist. What a performance! Why, I haven’t been that entertained since the Great White show of 2003. Ah so many bodies." Charlie introduced

"Stop right there!" Husk pointed a M16 at Charlie. "I know your game. And I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone here, you spunky, quirky, musical harlot!" Husk threatened.

Charlie laughs slightly, "Hon, if I wanted to hurt anyone here... I would have done so already...." spooky demonic stuff pops up and then goes away. "No, I’m here because I want to help!"

"Say what now?" Alastor asked.

"Help!" Charlie exclaimed.

"Um, you want to help?" Alastor asked.

"With this ridiculous thing you’re trying to do! This hotel! I want to help you run it." Charlie exclaimed.

"Uh… why?" Alastor asked.

Charlie laughs, "Why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom! I’ve lacked inspiration for decades! My work became mundane, lacking focus, aimless! I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment!"

"Does getting into a fist fight with a upstage reporter count as entertainment?" Alastor asked.

Charlie laughs, "Absolutely, it's reality. After all, the world is a stage! And the stage is a world of entertainment!"

"So, does this mean that you think it’s possible to rehabilitate a demon?" Alastor asked.

Charlie laughs, "Ha no. That’s wacky nonsense! Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! Nononono, I don’t think there’s anything left that could save such loathsome sinners! The chance given was the life they lived before; the punishment is this! There is no undoing what is done!"

"So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t believe in my cause?" Alastor asked.

"Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself! I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment! Only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure." Charlie stated.

"Right?" Alastor nervously asked.

"Yes indeedy! I see big things coming your way, and who better to help than I…" Charlie exclaimed.

With Husk and Niffty.

"Ah, so uh, what’s the deal with Smiles over there?" Niffty asked.

"Wait, you’ve never heard of her before? You’ve been here longer than me!" Husk shouted.

"Only for a decade." Niffty replied.

"The Musical Demon, one of the most powerful fuckers Hell has ever seen?" Husk stated.

"Eh, not big on politics." Niffty answered.

"Some fuckin' time ago, Charlie was let out of Lucifer's castle she rampaged the fuck out of everything and then she started podcasting her carnage through fucking songs people started calling her, the music demon.. That kind of raw power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Strange song and dense numbers would play on the radio paired with terrifying screams and cries for help. She'd force victims to join in and those who wouldn't or couldn't got the worst of it. Sinners started calling her the Musical Demon. (How fucking original!) Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled her to rival our world’s most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing’s for sure: She’s an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos the likes of which we can’t risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased." Husk annoyingly exclaims.

"Bash ears much?" Niffty silently laughs, "She looks like a cinnamon roll princess!"

"Well, I don’t trust her!" Husk spat.

"To be fair, do you trust anyone?" Niffty asked. "Anyone."

Husk went to Alastor.

"Al, man, listen to me. You can’t believe this girl! She isn’t just a happy face! She’s a dealmaker, pure evil! She's Lucifer's daughter! She can’t be redeemed! And is most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we’re trying to do. And we don't want that." Husk stated.

"I know she’s bad, and I know she probably doesn’t wanna change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better! How can I turn someone away? I can’t. It goes against everything I’m trying to do. Everything I believe in. I would be like them back then. Just trust me. I can take care of myself." Alastor stated.

"Alastor, whatever you do, do not make a deal with him!" Shouted.

"Don’t worry, I picked up one thing from them. “Ya don’t take shit from rich folk!” Okay, so… Charlotte. You’re sketchy, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a joke. But I don’t. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no tricks or voodoo strings attached." Alastor nervously said.

"So it’s a deal then?" Charlie asked.

Alastor takes a gulp before he shakes her burning hot hands. Her hand burns Alastor's hand like a hot stove. Alastor cries in pain.

Charlie let go of Alastor hand and went to Husk.

Alastor went to the fridge to get something to cool his hand.

"Smile, my boy! You know you’re never fully dressed without one!" Charlie stated. "So where is your hotel staff?" She asked.

"Uh, well…" Alastor points to Husk and Niffty with his good hand.

Husk growls.

"Oh ho ho ho, you’re going to need more than that." Charlie stated.

"And what can you do you quirky cutie?" Charlie asked Niffty.

"I can finger you to heaven." Niffty replied.

"Maybe not..." Charlie said.

"Your loss." Niffty stated.

"Well this just won’t do! I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up!" Charlie snaps, which cleans the fireplace and light up a fire in it. Charlie then pulled out a tall and dark demon from the fireplace. Charlie then shake it a little to get rid of the soot which reveals our white and pink Spider Boi Angel Dust.

"This tall friend is Angel!" Charlie said.

"Hello, my name is angel, it been along time since I saw any guy... IS ANYONE HERE GAY!? sorry, that was rude... OH MY! this place is disgusting, it really need the fabulous touch, which is weird cause I'm sure at least one of you is gay..." Angel went all around the room with his 6 arms cleaning and remodeling everything.

Charlie snaps again.

A gray female demon was at a bar talking to a male demon, "Okay that will be $50 for a hand- wohhhhhh" All kinds of demonic shit goes around Vaggie "¿Que demonios?" Vaggie notices Charlie, "YOU!"

"Veggie sweat heart glad you could make it!" Charlie exclaims and then hugs

"Don't you veggie me! I was working!" Vaggie pushed Charlie away.

"Good to see you to!" Charlie laughed

"What do you want?" Vaggie asked.

"Well sweaty I'm doing some charity work and I took it upon my self to volunteer your Service!" Charlie answered.

"Are you joking!?" Vaggie asked.

"No, I don't think so! I thought you could be the new face of this fine establishment!" Charlie points to a pole. "With your fine smile and "past experience" this job was made for you!" Charlie stated.

"IM AINT DOING NO CHAIRTY WORK DO I LOOK LIKE SOME KIND OF A FUCKING JOKE!?" Vaggie shouted.

"Maybe, but don't worry,I can make it more rewarding, if you wish." Charlie projects all of the cute good times they had back then.

"What!? you can think you can buy me with a wink and some good memories!? Well you can!" Vaggie got up to the stage

"Hey hey, heyheyhey! NO! No pole dancing we're meant to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of… casino, brothel, man-cave-" Husk ranted.

Niffty jumps on Husk. "Shut up! Shut! Up! We are keeping this." Niffty pointed to Vaggie. "Hey." Niffty flirted to Vaggie

"¡Vete a la mierda!" Vaggie said.

"Sounds sexy." Niffty flirted.

Alastor went up the the stage, "Hello there my scantily dressed friend! Welcome to this fine or at least with your help soon to be fine hotel!" Alastor introduced himself.

"I lost the ability to love years ago, so unless you got cash you're not worth my time." Vaggie stated.

"So, what do you think?" Charlie asked.

"This is the Bees Knees!" Alastor bellowed.

"It’s… fine." Husk stated.

Charlie went in for a hug with Alastor and Husk, "This is going to be very fun!" Charlie clears her throat and push Husk away. ♪ You have a dream ♪ ♪ You wish to tell ♪ ♪ And it’s just laughable ♪ ♪ But hey sir, what the hell! ♪ ♪ ‘Cause you’re one of a kind ♪ ♪ A charming pal! ♪ ♪ Now let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell ♪ ♪ Inside of every demon is a waste ♪ ♪ But we’ll dress ‘em up for now with just a smile! ♪ ♪ And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool ♪ ♪ With some old redemption flair ♪ ♪ And show these simpletons some proper class and style! ♪ ♪ Here below the ground ♪ ♪ I’m sure your plan is sound! ♪ ♪ They’ll spend a little time ♪ ♪ Down at this Hazbin Ho-- ♪

A explosion outside blast the door off and hit Angel.

Everyone walked out to see what was happening

"Ha! Well well well, look who it is harboring the musical freak! We meet yet again, Charlie!" Cherri shouted.

"Do I know you?" Charlie asked.

"Oh, yes you do! And this time, I have the element of- surprise!" Cherri maniacal laughs "I’m so evil!"

Charlie snaps to bring up her goat goons to destroy the ship.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa!" Cherri started to scream as the goats started to destroy her ship and murder her Cherrybois.

Two of the goats grab Cherri and threw her at the wall. "Oh, that hurt!" Cherri screams.

The Goats took control of the ship and pilot it into the cracks where they came from.

The ship explodes when it got into the crack.

"Well I’m starved! Who wants some cake? My father once showed me a wonderful recipe for cake! In fact, they named it after him! You could say the kick was right out of Hell! Yes sir, this is the start of some real changes down here!" Charlie laughes

"The show starts! Now... Stay tuned." Charlie snaps changing the sign from, "Happy." to "Hazbin."

#hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin niffty #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin alastor #hazbin husk #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin characters #hazbin katie killjoy #hazbin tom trench

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 2 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: thank u for being so lovely to me about this rewrite! this chapter was tricky to rework but i solved it in the end wOO! as always love will always be appreciated so if it’s ur first time reading (or even if it’s not!) feel free to shoot some my way!! here we go with chapter 2 of strictly au 2: electric boogaloo (yes i will be making that joke every time i resubmit a new chapter xo)

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

26th September 2020

Vanessa checks herself out in one of the full-length mirrors, her outfit a blur of red sequins and fringing and the flecks of glitter she’s spread across her collarbones and shoulders popping under the lights of the dressing room. She blinks slowly and carefully once, twice, then gives a little flutter of her immaculately-applied fake eyelashes.

“Makeup did a great job tonight,” she smiles appreciatively at herself. Akeria appears from behind her, squeezes her in a hug.

“Mm. Although I guess it helps when they get a canvas like mine to paint on,” she flutters her own falsies whilst framing her face with her hands, and Vanessa bats her away playfully. Suddenly they are nudged out of the way by Aja.

“Do you clowns mind? Some of us have to actually use these mirrors.”

“Yeah, let Aja in. She needs all the help she can get,” Shea calls from across the room, the girls giving a laugh and Aja giving a faux-wounded cry and dashing back across the room to whack Shea. Vanessa has missed this- the dressing room camaraderie, the gossiping and the occasional catfight. She’d marked out her territory in the long, white-and-metal room a few years ago when she’d befriended Akeria and Monique, and the three girls sit at the same three white vanity tables in the same three only-slightly-uncomfortable tan-stained white chairs, with their crushed water bottles and makeup bits and bobs and packets of dried fruit snacks scattered over the area like a bomb has gone off. The blast of hairdryers, hisses of hairspray cans, excited chatter and the playlist the dancers have all cultivated together combine to create one chaotic, noisy sound that Vanessa thinks is a little bit magical. It’s even more magical, more exciting and thrilling, now that she’s actually going to be partnered up with someone and have a proper Strictly journey.

“What’re y’all gonna teach as your first dance?” Monique asks, already touching up her eyeliner despite the fact she doesn’t need to.

“Hmph. Depends who I get,” Vanessa shrugs, a little thrum in her heart. “I wanna get some ballroom out of the way first though. Then it’s one less to choreograph.”

Monique hums in agreement. She knows Vanessa has limited ballroom experience, having competed almost exclusively in Latin competitions. Vanessa looks over at Jan and Jaida who are chatting excitedly with Plastique. They all knew each other from the ballroom circuit before they started on the show and Vanessa knows she’ll never be one of those dancers that exudes grace and poise, little paper dolls that float across the floor practically on tiptoe. Then again, those girls will never be a dancer like she is, all hips and curves, sass and fiery passion and playfulness. Well. Jaida probably could if she wanted to, but Vanessa remembers when the pros all did the Cell Block Tango number last year and Jaida kept getting the giggles at the sexiest parts and setting all the other girls off laughing. For one of the most attractive girls on the circuit, she balances it out with being a bit of a dork.

“You sure you don’t wanna lead with your strong suit? Arrive with a bang, that sorta thing,” Akeria muses, and Vanessa shakes her head.

“It’s a long game, girl, you can’t peak too early.”

“Well my plan is to peak on the first night and then plateau. Tens across the board right through to the final,” Monique pipes up, touching her lashes and pulling a face at the mirror. Vanessa and Akeria share a long-suffering look and roll their eyes.

“Of course,” Akeria indulges her. “I’ll maybe do a Cha Cha Cha or somethin’.”

“Hey! I was gonna do a Cha Cha Cha!” Monique cries, appalled. Vanessa bursts out laughing.

“Bitch! There’s only about four dances you can pick from at the start anyway, if you wanted to be the only one doin’ it then lower your expectations,” she laughs at her friend. Monique narrows her eyes, turns around in her chair and calls on Crystal, hairspraying her long, dark wavy ponytail in place at her own vanity table. “Crys! What’re you doing for the first dance?”

Crystal turns around excitedly, looks to the ceiling in thought. “Oooh…some sort of samba, maybe? Start out difficult.”

Monique pouts, halfway to satisfied. “You heard what any of the other girls are doing?”

“Jaida’s undecided. Aja keeps talking about this vision she’s got for this rhumba to Chan Chan…oh! Jan’s doing a Cha Cha Cha.”

Vanessa stifles a laugh as Monique gives a wounded groan. “Damn it, Jan!”

Crystal laughs, shakes her ponytail out and shrugs. “To be fair, I think Jan’s planned out all her dances until she gets to the final. Nobody’s thought to tell her she might not get that far.”

“Hey! Heard that, asshole,” shouts Jan, a few tables down.

“Love you!” Crystal calls back, her voice typically high and sweet and ensuring nobody can ever get mad at her.

Talk turns to partners. It turns out Crystal’s got her eye on Jackie or Gigi, and Vanessa swears she can see a bit more blush appear on her cheeks when she tells her that Gigi was gunning for her as well. As some of the other girls who’re finished getting ready around them join in, Vanessa sneaks a look at her phone and idly scrolls to Instagram to find a certain comment that’s been running through her mind for the past month. A photo of her in the studio, it’s not even that cute; she’s got her old dance school hoodie on and a pair of black Primark leggings paired with her obnoxiously bright blue trainers, and she’s sitting on the floor fresh from her warmup holding her phone up to the mirror. Vanessa scrolls down, feels her heart give a little excited jump when she reaches the comment she was looking for.

bhytes: 😍😍😍

It’s dumb and embarrassing how much she’s scrolled Brooke Lynn’s profile since the girl followed her all those weeks ago. Vanessa had felt something inside her burst when she’d first seen the notification, and she still tries to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed when she saw that Brooke had followed most of the other pros too. Vanessa is only hung up on the girl because she’d be such a good partner. It’s not like they really flirted when they met, anyway- Brooke had just been joking around, and Vanessa had followed suit. Some jokes between two girls that had just met and had hit it off with each other stupidly well. It wasn’t anything more than that. Vanessa can’t take her eye off the ball this season; she’s in it to win, just like all the other girls. Being benched for two years has struck a determination in her that she’s not ready to let die. She remembers how confident Brooke was, how easily the moves came to her, how she dipped Vanessa safely and carefully but with such skill and how close they were pressed together when Vanessa came back up-

Alright, bitch. That’s enough of that.

Akeria yelling her name makes Vanessa jerk her head up from her screen, the other girls laughing at the surprise on her face.

“What are you even doing, Jesus,” Akeria mutters, grabbing her phone out of her hand. Vanessa gives a little squeak of outrage, trying not to blush as a shit-eating grin spreads across her friend’s face as she looks at Vanessa’s phone and the other dancers ask what she’s seen.

“Well, let’s just say we know who Vanjie wants to be partnered with,” Akeria smirks, the other girls descending into excited squawks as Vanessa clamours for her phone back and Akeria relents.

“Don’t make it weird, bitch, God,” Vanessa murmurs, trying not to be stung with embarrassment. Crystal pulls a sympathetic face, reaches out to place a comforting hand on Vanessa’s arm.

“Aw, Vanjie! It’s normal to get a lil’ crush on one of the celebrities, they’re all so beautiful and airbrushed.”

“Is it, though? Or are you just hung up on a certain model that you’ve not been able to stop mentioning every five minutes since you danced with her?” Jan quirks an eyebrow, the girls all laughing and screaming again. Vanessa thinks about bringing up Jan’s obvious infatuation with Jackie but then decides against it, remembering that her Mom always tells her people in glass homes shouldn’t throw rocks. Or whatever the saying was. Even though they moved here when Vanessa was two and she probably should be used to them by now she still hates figures of speech with a passion.

“Okay I don’t mind admitting it- whoever gets Asia O’Hara, you’re a lucky son of a bitch,” Akeria throws her hands up, and Monique rolls her eyes so hard that Vanessa momentarily worries for her vision.

“My God, Keeks! Mention it one more time, maybe there’s somebody livin’ in a fuckin’…croft in the Scottish Highlands that ain’t still aware you wanna climb Miss Asia like a tree.”

Vanessa bursts out laughing, joining the other girls. Shea whips her head around from her own mirror, her high, sleek ponytail tossing itself over her shoulder as she fixes them all with an unimpressed glare. “Oh my God, will you all stop being so horny on main for like, two goddamn minutes? Jeez. When was the last time y’all got laid, two thousand and fuckin’ ten?”

Aja laughs in outrage as she points an accusatory finger Shea’s way. “Hey, not all of us could marry a contestant, okay? Let these girls get laid already!”

As the girls all hoot and Shea looks ready to fire a playful comeback at her, one of the runners comes into the dressing room and shouts up a five minute warning. The dancers all explode with excited squeals and they all rush back to their dressing tables to do a last touch up of their makeup and strap themselves into their dance shoes. Vanessa feels her heart thrumming so loud and heavy in her chest that she regrets the Red Bull she’d sank earlier, her nerves suddenly consuming her. She walks into the corridor where some of the other girls are waiting, digs her feet into the soles of her shoes and takes two big deep, calming breaths like her first ever dance teacher taught her to do when the butterflies got all too much. They’re not getting their partners straight away- they’ve got the group dance to complete first, but after that they’ll be changing into uniform little white sparkly dresses and standing on the raised steps beside the dancefloor, ready for the celebrities to come out one by one. The very thought of seeing Brooke Lynn again, in person and all fake-tanned with a full face of makeup, is making Vanessa’s hands shake a little.

“Hey,” Courtney smiles at her, coming out to stand behind her in the corridor. “Good luck. You’ll be amazing.”

“Thanks, girl,” Vanessa smiles. Courtney is the Mom of the dancers, always looking out for the other girls and keeping the peace. Vanessa is appreciative of her calm presence just now.

“How’re you feeling?” Courtney asks, a little frown of concern on her face. She rolls her eyes at herself quickly as soon as the words are out of her mouth. “God. Sorry. Silly question.”

“I’m nervous as shit right now, I ain’t gon’ lie.”

Courtney smiles, takes her hand and squeezes it. “You’ll be fine. I’d be worried if you weren’t nervous to be honest. I still remember my first show. Just remember the dancing is the easy bit. It’s what you know. You’ve done it for two seasons already anyway, all that’s changed is that you get a partner! And that’s the best bit!”

Vanessa swallows, takes another deep breath. She looks at Courtney again. “You know before you get partnered? You ever get your hopes up for one particular celebrity?”

“God, obviously. It’s like when teachers say they don’t have favourites, but you know they do. Why?” Courtney gives her a wink which makes her blush out of embarrassment. “You got your eye on anyone specific?”

“Nah. It’s my first season competing, I’ll be happy with anyone! Can’t get too choosy.”

Courtney cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her. “Hmm. You’re a bad liar, Vanjie, but I’ll leave you alone. Have fun out there! Break a leg.”

Vanessa’s stomach gives a dip as she throws Courtney a supportive smile and turns around in the line. Monique reaches back, squeezes her hand and whispers a good luck to her, and before she can get a chance to compose herself they’re all off snaking their way in single file through yellow strobe-lit corridors, then through a dark maze of black curtains and cables and electrical tape, and finally out into the muffled excitement of the audience and the hot glow of the stage lights from the rigging overhead. As the producers and runners dash about like panicked mice, Vanessa takes another shuddery deep breath and takes her place beside Vixen, thanking God the show isn’t live but also knowing they’re about to do the dance in one whole take. She’s done this before, it’s not new. She can do this. It’s what she loves.

“Right, ladies and gentlemen! Are we ready to make history? First same-sex series of Strictly Come Dancing?” a producer yells out, the audience whooping and cheering and stamping their feet. “And five…four…three…two…one…”

The lights go up, the smile is plastered onto Vanessa’s face, and when she starts to dance everything she has been worrying about melts away. It sounds cheesy, Vanessa knows it, but when she dances her mind literally cannot think about a single thing other than the music and the rhythm and the moves unfolding as if she’s telling a story. Vanessa remembers days spent on the couch with her Mom and a bowl of popcorn watching Billy Elliot, Dance With Me, Dirty Dancing (even though that one was a 12 and Vanessa’s Mom always told her not to tell her Abuela she was allowing her to watch it) and falling in love with dancing. As the pros finish off their dance to rapturous applause, Vanessa wonders what eight-year-old her would make of it all. She’s on the biggest dancing show on UK TV and she’s about to actually compete in it. Jesus.

Backstage, Vanessa’s hands are shaking so much that they fumble with the zip at the back of her costume change. She is a bundle of nerves now that the dance is done- that’s the only part about tonight she can control, and it’s over. Shea sees her struggling, bats Vanessa’s hands out of the way firmly and hoists the zip up her spine. Vanessa feels like a six year old who’s just had to ask their teacher to help them get dressed after a P.E. lesson.

“Thanks,” she mutters, Shea giving her a tight smile in return.

“Stop worrying. You’ll just get yourself in a flap. What’re you scared of?” Shea asks her, her stern voice turning soft at the end of her sentence. Shea doesn’t have a lot of time for nonsense, but the time she does have is precious, so Vanessa sighs.

“I’m just…God, I don’t even know. Worried I get a dud on my first year, I guess. I want to showcase myself just as much as I want to showcase my teaching abilities, if that makes sense,” she shrugs, looking in the mirror and making sure none of her dark brown baby hairs are breaking free from their hairspray prison.

“If I can give you any advice for your first year, I’ll say this,” Shea continues, checking her own reflection out until a runner shoos them back into line with the other girls. “Don’t take it too serious. Establish yourself, yeah, but it’s more about having fun with whoever you’re partnered with. When I let go and did that I ended up winning. Now, shit, don’t tell anyone I’m giving you advice.”

Vanessa tries not to focus on the fact Shea has just mentioned winning. The thought makes her heart give a thud she’s convinced could land her in hospital. She thanks Shea, gives her a squeeze on her shoulder before the girls are led out onto the stage again. Vanessa is positioned on one of the upper levels in between Akeria and Jan. They give each other a smile of encouragement, and Vanessa reaches over to take Akeria’s hand.

“I hope you get who you want, Keeks,” she whispers, as the producers look ready to begin. Akeria squeezes her hand as a thank you and drops it just as the lights go up. Vanessa feels her stomach churn as she looks down. There’s Michelle, contestant-turned-presenter ready to look into the camera and start reading from the autocue, and she’s beside the table of four judges. Vanessa hasn’t had many dealings with the judges before- she hasn’t had to, but the four friendly-ish faces she’s only so much as smiled at backstage now seem so scary to her.

“Ready to go in three,” a producer calls out, and a hush falls over the audience. Vanessa feels herself wobble in her shoes, wonders if she’d get fired if she fainted on the first take. Before she can think too much about it, the lights flood the stage and Michelle is announcing the first celebrity to be partnered- Heidi Cheek, or, to her listeners, Heidi Nina Closet. She’s dressed in a black sparkly dress which contrasts those of the dancers, and Vanessa realises the costume designers’ vision straight away. Vanessa remembers Heidi- she’d been one of the girls she’d danced with after Brooke, and she was sweet and funny and approached learning with a cheerful sense of enthusiasm, even if it had taken her a couple of tries to get the moves right. Michelle asks her how she’s feeling.

“Excited! It’s so different to doin’ my radio show, you know? I’m not used to bein’ on camera. They didn’t tell me I’d be goin’ through makeup at all. Everyone wore their joggers and gym clothes in rehearsals so I just thought we’d all be wearin’ the same things,” Heidi begins, the audience laughing already. “Also these heels! I barely even wear shoes at work, Lord. I can’t walk in these so how I’ll dance in them I’ll never know. Least I don’t need to fake tan like some of these other girls. That whole dressin’ room smells like a pack of biscuits.”

As the audience give another laugh, Vanessa can feel her heart hammer frantically as Michelle turns to Heidi. “Okay, Heidi. This…is…it.”

The lights go down, and Vanessa wants nothing more than to squeeze her eyes shut but she knows the cameras will be giving close-ups and so she stands, poised and ready, practising her not-looking-disappointed face in case she gets partnered with her.

“Your Strictly Come Dancing 2020 pro is…”

Breathe, don’t forget to breathe. Don’t close your eyes. Stop clenching your fists.

“Antonia ‘Vixen’ Taylor!”

Vanessa lets out a massive sigh of relief, her smile huge and genuine as she claps for the newly paired couple. Vixen races across the stage and lets out an excited squeal, Heidi crushing her in a tight hug. Both girls are clearly happy about who they’ve been partnered up with. They give a short post-pairing interview where they both squeal about how enthused and excited they are and Michelle sends them up to the auditorium. Vanessa claps them again then lets out another sigh. One couple down, eleven to go.

Michelle, a seasoned professional, copes well with the stop-start way that pre-recorded TV is usually filmed. Vanessa, however, stands and frets and wobbles in her heels through the next five pairings. Blair St Clair is paired up with Courtney next, and both girls are content with their partner. Blair just seems happy she’s got somebody who won’t eat her for breakfast if she makes a mistake.

“I’m so happy I got paired up with a winner!” she beams in her interview, her arm linked with Courtney’s. “And we had so much fun on the induction day, she put up with me so well. Even though she had to re-teach me the steps about twelve times.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! It wasn’t twelve!” Courtney soothes, then gives Michelle a cheeky smile. “More like ten.”

A clearly satisfied Peppermint is given to an equally happy Shea and, to her obvious delight, Akeria is paired with Asia. Jan gives an over-the-top display of sheer unadulterated celebration when she’s paired with Jackie and almost gives Vanessa tinnitus with the amount she screeches, and Vanessa finds herself beaming with joy when Gigi is paired with Crystal, both girls behaving like Care Bears when they reach each other, all soft cuddles and squeezing hands.

Michelle takes a quick drink of water, announces some special guest singer that nobody cares about to perform at the halfway point. The girls who’re waiting to be partnered are called off the stage and the fiftysomething country singer last relevant in 2006 begins setting up. Vanessa scans her eyes over the pros that are left. There’s her, Monique, Plastique, Aja, Phi Phi and Jaida.

“Who’s still not been partnered up?” Phi Phi hisses urgently, her face determined as she addresses the other girls.

“Yvie Oddly hasn’t got anyone yet,” Plastique mentions calmly. “Or the Love Island girl.”

“Farrah,” Aja corrects her, then pulls a face. “Scarlet Envy’s not got anyone yet either.”

“Has Brooke Lynn been given anyone?” Vanessa asks rhetorically, as if she hasn’t been waiting with every embryo she possesses for the girl to come out onto the stage.

“No,” Jaida shakes her head, oblivious to the fact Vanessa already knows the answer. “And there’s Monet and Willam. So there’s three…maybe four girls still left that we can win with.”

“Hey, Scarlet has potential,” Monique shrugs kindly. Plastique snorts.

“Potential to what? Earn the lowest scores ever recorded?”

Phi Phi covers her hand with her mouth as she giggles, and Vanessa frowns at them both.

“Nobody’s winning with Willam either. The woman’s treating the whole thing as a huge joke,” Phi Phi continues.

Vanessa can’t help but send a barb her way. “I don’t know, girl, she seemed pretty clued-up when she was with me. But I guess a bad teacher always blames her students.”

Plastique and Jaida let out a squeal which they muffle behind their hands. Monique grabs Vanessa for support as she splutters a laugh, and Phi Phi scowls at her. “Well I’m not the one that was-”

“Would y’all just shut the fuck up for, like, two minutes?” Aja hisses, lowering the rapidly escalating volume of the conversation. “Unless we wanna be picked up by the mic and get round two of the half-decaying Darius Rucker impersonator that’s out there.”

Aja is friendly and funny but she’s scary when she wants to be, so the girls take a telling and fall silent as the song is finished. It’s not long until they’re led back out onto stage and are assembled onto the same podium as last time, and the cameras are rolling again. Next out is Willam. It says a lot that the stage makeup manages to tone her down, the gentle grey smoke across her eyelids a far cry from the riot of glitter that had been scattered over them on induction day. Michelle begins the interview.

“Now, Willam, you starred in Brittania High a few years ago, that was a bit dance-y - do you think that’ll come in handy during your Strictly journey?” Michelle is asking her. Willam brushes a stray hair out of her face and shrugs.

“I mean, I didn’t do too much of the dancing? I was a leading lady so I got most of the ballads. And most of the lines. More a main character than a backing dancer, really. No shade to any of my ex castmates, of course. Except Detox. Rotted bitch.”

“CUT!”

Vanessa bites her lip hard to try to stop a laugh coming out. Willam looks amused, if a little perturbed. “Is that not allowed? It was just a joke, she knows I love her really. Family show? Oh, okay.”

Vanessa can’t help it and lets out a laugh along with some of the audience. Phi Phi’s face doesn’t move.

“Okay Willam, time to see who your partner will be.”

The lights go down again. Even though it’s now the seventh time this has happened, Vanessa still feels as if she’s surviving a near-death experience every time someone new is paired up. It would be good to be paired with Willam. She’d be fun. She’s got potential. She’d work hard. She wouldn’t be disappointed at all.

“…It’s Phi Phi O’Hara!”

Oh, fuck. Vanessa sucks her lips into her mouth, tries not to laugh as the fake smile takes hold on Phi Phi’s face like a mask as she runs over to Willam, gives her a polite hug. She is raging. Serves her right for being mean.

“Willam Belli! What an enormous…” Phi Phi tails off, gesturing at the woman beside her as she searches for the right word. “…pleasure…it is to be paired up with her!”

Vanessa catches eyes with Monique, almost splutters a laugh. Phi Phi’s delivering everything through gritted teeth. Willam is smiling beside her, although her gaze keeps darting up to someone in the auditorium. Vanessa wonders if there’s someone she would rather have been partnered with.

Phi Phi is led off smiling demonically, and then Yvie appears by Michelle’s side to be paired up next. She is given to Jaida, and both girls seem happy with their pairing. Next out is Farrah. Vanessa’s heart lifts. She didn’t get paired up with Farrah at all on induction day- they’re both too small to be each others’ partners and so far there’s been at least a little bit of a height difference to each pairing. Still, though…Vanessa can’t get too complacent. She puts her hands behind her back and crosses her fingers and hopes she won’t get chosen, feeling like she’s on her first day at Hogwarts and Michelle is holding the sorting hat.

“…Aja Rivera!”

Vanessa is almost sick with relief, but as Michelle interviews the new partners she can’t help but feel almost a little dizzy with nerves. There are only three celebrities left: Scarlet, Monet and, of course, Brooke Lynn. The producers stop filming and arrange Vanessa, Plastique and Monique on the same level so as they’re not too scattered across the stage.

“You look like you’re about to throw up. Or faint. Or maybe die,” Monique whispers to her, concerned. Plastique rolls her eyes.

“Leave her alone, Mo, it’s her first partner,” she chastises her. Vanessa is grateful for the sympathy and doesn’t acknowledge how right Monique is. She does feel as if she’s about to do all three of those things, possibly all at the same time. Just as she thinks things can’t get any more nervewracking, the lights go up, Michelle announces the next celebrity, and Brooke Lynn appears.

Vanessa feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. Brooke’s hair is tousled and swept over one shoulder, the black smoke of eyeshadow the makeup department blended onto her eyelids makes the green of her eyes pop, and the character heels and the fringing on her black sparkly dress means that Vanessa’s eyes can’t help but be drawn to her legs. This is the girl she’s been waiting for. If she gets Brooke, she knows she can go far, she knows she can do a lot. She hardly hears a word Brooke says in her interview, all Vanessa is doing is repeating prayer after prayer- she’s not even that religious but her Mom, Tia and Abuela combined have probably said enough Hail Marys on her behalf to garner her a decent amount of favour with whoever’s up there, so she gives it a go.

“Okay, Brooke, let’s see who is going to be partnered with you for your Strictly journey.”

The lights go down. Vanessa swears her heart stops beating. She casts her eyes to the ceiling, not daring to meet Brooke’s. Her palms are way too sweaty to be normal. She clasps them together but they’re still shaking like crazy. The room is silent save from the single drum beat that’s serving to build tension. It’s doing its job too well, Vanessa thinks. She swears this pause is longer than all the others put together. She can hear the catch in Michelle’s throat as she’s about to speak, her heart soaring high with anticipation.

“It’s-”

“Cut!”

There’s a groan from the audience. Vanessa is going to faint right here, right now, filming be damned.

“Sorry, we’ve got a problem with the lights, it’s hitting Plastique’s face all weird. Can we sort that?…Okay. Thanks.”

Vanessa is no longer nervous. She’s now just impatient. As she taps her foot frustratedly and sweeps a glance over the room, she’s determined not to look at Brooke. She wonders if she’s looking at her already. Unable to help herself, she sneaks a look and instantly meets Brooke’s eyes with her own. Her heart leaps as if someone’s just turned the key in its ignition. Brooke unsuccessfully stifles a smile, sends her a wink as if they’re the only two people in the room. Vanessa waggles her fingers in a wave, then snaps her gaze away as the producer silences the audience again. Michelle repeats her line, the lights go down again, and Vanessa’s not scared this time. She’s thinking it into existence. She knows it’s going to be her. Michelle just has to say it.

“…it’s Vanessa Mateo!”

Vanessa screams. She knows her face must be an absolute picture as she sinks to the ground in shock, gripping her face with both her hands. She can hear Monique and Plastique laughing and clapping above her, and she can barely walk in a straight line as she rises back up and dashes across to hug Brooke. Brooke’s smile is almost splitting her face, and she breaks away from Michelle and runs towards her, picking her up and twirling her round in a tight hug that Vanessa never wants to break free from. She’s done it. She and Brooke are partners. She gets to work with her for as long as they’re in the competition together. Maybe Vanessa will start going to mass after all.

“Oh my God,” Vanessa eventually says, as Brooke carries her in the hug for as long as she can manage then deposits her down beside Michelle who is laughing so hard Vanessa wonders if they’ll have to do another take. They do not. Instead, Brooke drapes an arm around Vanessa’s shoulder and pulls her close. Without knowing what possesses her, Vanessa takes her hand. She looks up at Brooke who’s looking down at her and they laugh together, sharing a ridiculously huge smile.

“Sorry. That was too much,” Brooke says apologetically. The audience laughs along with Vanessa.

“Uh, Vanessa,” Michelle starts, laughing a little through her question. “It’s your first year with a partner, I probably- well I don’t- need an answer, but I have to ask…how do you feel about being partnered with Brooke?”

“Listen,” Vanessa composes herself. She’s out of breath and her voice is hoarse from screeching, but she’s getting this out. “If you knew what this girl can do, you’d be screamin’ like a banshee too, Michelle. She’s so talented, I know she’s gonna be incredible…God, I can’t wait to win this whole thing with her.”

Everyone laughs again, but Vanessa’s only looking at Brooke. The girl’s eyes crinkle up when she smiles, and it only makes her look ten times more beautiful than she already is. Not that that’s weird. Just an observation.

“Brooke, how do you feel?”

Brooke looks back down at Vanessa, still smiling. “No, I’m the exact same. I know we kind of look like a bar chart together, but we just work. I knew I wanted to be her partner since induction day.”

Vanessa gives a happy sigh. She wants to wrap both her arms around Brooke and to not let go. Part of her feels like she’s lifting the glitterball already. Brooke is a trophy and Vanessa feels like a winner.

“Well, congratulations to the pair of you. One last time, give it up for Vanessa and Brooke Lynn!”

Vanessa drops her hand down and Brooke catches it in hers, the pair of them running past the audience and upstairs to the auditorium where the other girls are ready with excited squeals and hugs for them both. Vanessa accepts them all gladly, and when she is finally released she is positioned at the bannister beside her new dance partner. She turns to her and smiles, Brooke easily returning it, and Vanessa is suddenly bashful.

“Hey,” Brooke smiles at her cheekily.

“Hey,” Vanessa grins, looking to the floor awkwardly. “Sorry. If I freaked you out. Guess my reaction was kinda too much.”

“Girl, did you see me? I was spinning you round like a fucking windmill. If anyone should be apologising it should be me.”

They both laugh softly. Vanessa shrugs a little. “Least we know we’ll be good at lifts.”

Brooke raises her eyebrows and concedes, and Vanessa tries not to get too excited about the fact she can say the word we. They fall quiet as the producers call for hush and Scarlet is led out. As Vanessa listens to Scarlet’s interview, she can feel Brooke’s eyes on her and she turns to face her, unable to stop the smile creeping back onto her face. Brooke looks caught out for a second before she leans in close to Vanessa to whisper to her.

“I meant it, you know. I’m so happy I got you. I wasn’t just saying it for the cameras.”

Vanessa gives a happy sigh, places her hand over Brooke’s that’s clinging to the bannister. “Me too, girl. This is where it all begins. Let’s win this damn thing.”

They don’t let go of each others’ hands until the final pairing is announced.

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