#“she's so winy and she gets away with so much” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugar-kisser · 4 years

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Hot Coffee « Choi San (RW)

original warnings: none word count: 3359

You look up from the ground in front of you and smile as you notice the little black corner shop quickly coming into your view with every step you take. Your hand grabs the metal door handle, the palm of you hand instantly freezing due to the lowering temperatures of the fast approaching winter. You’re just waiting for the snow fall to come, so you can enjoy the pretty white scene of what the city becomes, especially overnight.

A small little bell chimes as you open the door and enter, causing a pool of black hair with a strong silver streak to pop up, stoping his spot in the book he’s so engrossed in. The barista brightly smiles at you, his dimples caving deep into his cheeks.

“Y/N! You’re here much earlier than usual,” he slightly giggles as he calls for you barely containing his excitement. Some times you wonder what goes on in his head or if he’s mentally five.

“My last class got canceled last minute today, again,” you lie. Well you’re not entirely lying. Your class did actually get canceled today last minute, but you’ve ditched this class two other times now and you’ve told San that the class has been canceled. Truth be told you’re trying to avoid a couple of girls who have been harassing you for the past two months, and you just need a break.

“Do you want your usual?” San asks, already grabbing one of the large black cups. You nod you head and mumble a please. San smiles your way before moving towards the coffee station and begins to make your favorite drink. It’s not even a drink you can order on the menu, but because you come here so often San would make you new drinks all the time till you decided a favorite. You discovered this place in the beginning of the school year. San worked most days since he’s enrolled in mostly online classes. You like to come to the small coffee shop to work mostly on your graphic design assignments. You tend to find inspiration in little places that you are most comfortable in. The shop has only a handful of tables, but your favorite seat is on the bar attached to San’s entire work space. Most of the walls are windowed from top to bottom with black framing. San had recently even been hanging up plants around the shop to give it another spark of life. The shop isn’t much but it’s comfortable to you, and you can freely work in the environment.

San gently slides the drink across the countertop towards you, a small little trail of steam coming from the hole in the lid. You go to reach for your wallet in your bag, but San stops you.

“You know you don’t have to pay for you drinks,” San tells you.

“San,” you whine, “that’s not fair to everyone else. You need to stop giving me drinks for free.”

“Not everyone is like you,” San winks before walking off to go wipe down the equipment he just used. You feel a little bit of heat rise to your cheeks, and you take your drink and move to the bar on the side of San’s work station. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on San. He’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. You both were a little quiet at first but you two quickly grew comfortable with each other due to you coming everyday to the coffee shop. Your conversations grew from just “hey how are you?” to “if you’re going to put that much cinnamon power into my drink I might as well snort it.” And to add a cherry on top, you’ve developed a small, little, tiny winy….. okay maybe it’s not small- BUT you have a crush on the cute, flirty barista who is also one of your friends. For all you know you could be friend zoned, so there is a little dilemma. You don’t really plan on telling San about your feelings, you’d rather deal with them until they go away than risk what you have now- because what you have now is really nice.

You set your drink on the counter and pull yourself into one of the high standing chairs. You then pull out your tablet and pull up your newest project you’ve been working on for a past couple days.

“What are you working on now?” San walks over to his side of the station connected to the bar where you are sitting at and rests his arms on top of the coffee machines.

“We have to create logo’s,” you tell him, “they can be for real companies or just made up.” You turn your tablet to show San the three different logo designs you’ve started. Each different logo representing a different company. One of them happens to be a design for the coffee shop you’re at- the other two are for made up companies.

“Is that one for here?” San asks, lighting up even more pointing to a small floral design, “look how detailed it is. All the flowers. They’re so pretty. Especially the big one in the middle.” You look over at your design and your eyes land on the giant water lily. “Are you about to color it all in?”

“I will when I’m finished with the other two designs. Why do you have suggestions?” You asks looking back at San with a smile and a small laugh at his deep interest in your assignment.

“No, no, no,” San laughs as he stands back up straight, “just curious. I think it’s going to be pretty no matter what you do with it.” You feel the blush quickly return to your cheeks but quickly push away the butterflies.

“I hope it turns out good. Maybe you’ll be able to use it for the shop,” You tell San as you pick up your stylus and begin working on one of the other designs.

“You know I’d love to,” San winks at you, “I’ll have to show my boss. Doubt he’ll say no, you’re talented.”

“Ah, thank you, San,” you laugh shyly, “I’m no professional. I still have a long way before I’m considered good.”

“Stop beating yourself up, Y/N,” San laughs, “you’re really talented. I hope someday you’ll see that.” You smile and look away from San, trying to cover you cheeks from another wave of pink. Why can’t you just seem to maintain your cool today? You look back at your designs and enlarge the image of one of the unfinished designs and begin working away. San begins to clean down his counter but looks over his shoulder your way. He loves the way you engross yourself into your work and the way your eyes light up when you finally get the look you’re wanting for your design. He knows you take pride in what you do and how much you love it. He just doesn’t understand why you’re so hard on yourself all the time. You never seem proud of any work you do. Yeah everyone can beat themselves up because they don’t think they did the best job they could, but you just never seem to be proud of anything you make. But little does San know the reason why you’re so hard on yourself is because of the girls that harass you. They always find a way to point out flaws to your professor when presenting or whisper about how anything you do isn’t as nice as everyone else’s, things like that. It’s created this unhealthy mental mindset in you, and you can’t seem to shake it.

You realize time has passed when San refills your cup for a third time, which means you are most definitely not sleeping tonight unless you manage to get all this energy out of you. The sun has begin to reach it’s spot on the horizon.

“Have you started coloring yet?” San asks as he fills up your cup.

“A little,” you tell him as you zoom out from the first logo, the one San really likes, “I’m just messing around with colors to see what I like.” San leans past your shoulder to get a closer look at your tablet. His face just inches away from yours looking at the design. You watch as his eyes jump around looking at the little elements and the colors you have picked out at the moment. The corner of his eyes crinkle and his little dimples pop onto his cheeks along with a smile. He begins to speak but his words don’t reach your ears. You trying to remember to breathe and to not make a fool of yourse-

“Y/N?” San asks waving his hand in front of your face. His face turned towards yours and a slight look of worry replaced his smile. You blink a couple times and focus on San who breaks out of his worry and back into a smile. “You’re so cute. I’ll be back I think I have customers. I want to see the other designs!” You nod your head and the boy hurries back to get behind the counter. You put your head down and your hands cover your mad red cheeks. Seriously what is up with you today? At this rate San will definitely figure out you like him. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths before looking back up at your tablet, and get back to work. You zoom back into your logo and begin coloring in another petal of the water lily.

“I’m going to head into the back to grab more coffee grounds. Yell if anyone walks in,” San tells you hand resting on your shoulder to grab your attention. You nod your head and watch the boy disappear into the back before turning back to your work.

“Well, well, well. Look what we found,” an all too familiar venomous voice breaks your train of thought. Your breath hitches slightly and you look up at the two girls standing in front of you.

“Is there something you need? Or no?” You ask, almost deadpan. This is the last place you want to see them, especially since it’s your one safe happy place.

“No,” she answers then looks around the shop, “figures you would come here. Must be where you get all your ridiculous ideas from. Makes sense; there is no inspiration. But…. you got a cute barista, so I’ll give you some credit.”

“Leave him alone,” you warn her with a flat tone. The last thing you need is for San to be brought into whatever beef you have with these girls.

“What’s with the attitude? We’re trying to be nice,” the other girl growls.

“Nice? You’re joking, right?” You ask, “you come in here, insult a place I like to be at, and my designs in one sentence.”

“You need to learn to keep your mouth shut,” the first girl tells you, voice low and threatening. You can feel your heart beat against your shirt. You know you can’t give up, not this time. You take in a deep slow breath to clam your nerves and the two girls stand there watching you, unsure of what you are going to do or say.

“Apologize,” the first girl demands.

“No,” you immediately answer her.

“No?” She asks almost taken aback with your sudden boldness she or her friend have never seen before. You go to open your mouth again to repeat yourself but your stopped when you feel a burning hot splash against your skin. A sudden high pitches scream escapes your lungs in reaction. You hear something heavy hit the floor and you and the two other girls look behind you at San who’s eyes widen. At his feet most of the coffee grounds have spilt out of bags and spread across the floor. The girls instantly make their way for the exit and you pull your coffee soaked shirt away from your body, but it doesn’t stop the burning sensation that’s already on your skin.

“Y/N,” San hurries up to you and quickly looks over your shirt and parts of your blistering skin that’s already exposed.

“It burns,” you tell him, your voice wavering just above a whisper. You breathing is shaky and a couple tears fall down your cheeks.

“We’re going to get you cleaned up, come on,” San helps you off your chair and guides you into the backroom and towards the break room. He clears off a section of a desk and has you sit on it while he heads to the other side of the room and he grabs the first aid kit from a cabinet. He opens the small box and looks around at what he has to work with. He takes another look at you and see’s that the skin on your color bones and neck have been to shrivel up.

“You’re going to need to take off your shirt for me to clean up the burns,” San quietly tells you. You’re slightly hesitant but you nod your head since you 1) don’t want to argue about it 2) want to get the burning shirt off of you. As you begin to take the shirt off San turns away and heads to his locker pulling out another shirt.

“Here, you can hold this up,” San holds out the shirt without looking your direction just so you’re not uncomfortable. You take the shirt and wrap it around your chest and even take off your bra after since it’s also soaks but most of the hot liquid was absorbed in the padding and so it just felt warm and you don’t think there are any burns. You whisper you’re good and San turns to face you again. He gives you a comforting smile before pulling out antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit. You make a small hissing noise when he first touches your irritated skin and you even slightly flinch away.

“I know it’s going to hurt,” San tells you, feeling slightly guilty that he’s going to hurt you just to make sure you get better, “squeeze my hand when it really hurts.” San takes your free hand. He begins cleaning your burns once again and you sit through the stinging feeling, but when he reaches your collar bone you squeeze his hand and he stops for a moment. He gives you a minute before he begins to lightly touch your collar bone again. San then tosses out the wipe and pulls out two small packets of an antibiotic lotion and dabs it onto your skin lightly but making sure it was being rubbed into your skin well enough. The lotion feels cool to your skin and you can almost relax. You watch San as he focus’s on making sure every burn is taken care of. You almost forget you’re still holding his hand.

“All done,” San lightly smiles at you as he closes the top of the first aid kit and tosses out the antibiotic packets he used, “you can put that shirt on.” As San goes to put the kit away you quickly pull the shirt over your head and push your arms through the sleeves. San’s unmistakable cologne fills your nose and you look down at the giant sweater. The lilac sweater is already giant on San, so it easily swallows you.

You slide of the desk, and when the sound of your shoes hitting the floor reaches San’s ears he knows it’s safe to turn around. He smiles sweetly seeing you in his sweater, you look like a little puppy in it.

“Had I known you looked this cute in my clothes I would of let you wear them sooner,” San teases as he walks back up to you, His head pushed further out from his body as he leans forward, and his hands are behind his back. When he reaches you, though, he stands up straight and his smile drops as he looks at you. He raises his hand and gently trucks some hair behind your ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” San asks, he feels like he’s been stabbed and it’s evident in his voice.

“San,” you start as you look down at your hands, which you pick at your fingers, “you shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“Hey,” San states as he gently grabs your face and lifts it up to face him, “I will always worry about you.” Your heart immediately flutters just at the simple idea that San wonders about you even when you’re not with him. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before San moves his hand to the side of your face and begins to lean towards you. You close your eyes and feel his lips meet yours for a moment before he pulls away.

“How lon-“

“I’ve liked you for a while. I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it,” San slightly giggles, “ever since you did that little doodle of me.” You think back a couple months ago when you had come to the coffee shop with no assignments to do so you sat and doodles San as he worked through his shift.

“I didn’t know you saw that drawing,” you whisper looking away and awkward scratching the side of your head. San laughs and wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You can feel his chest vibrating from the laugh.

“Come on,” San pulls away as he stops laughing, “I’ll walk you back to your apartment. I can close the shop for today once I clean up the coffee I dropped.”

“You don’t have you,” you quickly tell him, shaking your hands out in front of him, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“A bother? Y/N,” San lightly laughs and grabs your hands, “you could never be a bother. Why can’t you see that? You mean a lot to me, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Not anymore. So, please, let me walk you home.”

“Okay,” you whisper and nod your head. San smiles with your response and the two of you head back out into the coffee shop. Most customers had already left and San gave a heads up to those who remained. He flipped the open sign and grabs a broom and begins to sweep up all the coffee grounds on the floor. You sit patiently in one of the other bar chairs with your things all packed up.

Once San had finished, he grabs his bag, and stops you from putting yours on your shoulders. Something along the lines of him not wanting you to irritate the burns any further or getting them infected. You let San take your bag knowing he’ll whine if you don’t and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You invite San inside and he’s surprised with the style of your apartment and how you chose to decorate it. It’s not the last thing he thought it would be, but it definitely wasn’t his first. None-the-less San’s more than impressed with your style and even suggests you be an interior designer. The two of you enjoy the rest of the day watching tv and even cook a simple dinner together. Half-way through one of the movies you guys decided to turn on you fall asleep, your head resting against San’s chest as he has one arm wrapped around you. He only notices you fell asleep when he hears your light snores. He smiles and pulls you a little closer and makes sure the blanket you have is completely on you. San also takes the time to grab your tablet from the coffee table and begins an email to your design professors letting them know about what had happen today. He doesn’t specifically know which class you have with those two girls but he’s just playing safe and contacting all the professors anyway. He isn’t going to let anything or one else hurt you.

#ateez #ateez au #ateez choi san #ateez san #choi san #san #atiny #ateez x reader #ateez x atiny #ateez fluff #college au #coffee shop au #barista au #kpop imagines #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez scenarios

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spideymarvelws · 4 years

Text

Royal!Bucky barnes x reader

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Word count 2.1k

Warnings: kinda sad, kinda fluffy, kinda bucky finally receiving his long awaited plums

The castle at day was a sight to behold. After being built over centuries handed down from one architect to another, the design and structure couldn't be compared to any other castle in the continent. People from all over the kingdom would come to see its magnificence in person and after viewing it nothing could describe the beauty of the structure they had the blessing of witnessing.

However, the best time to see the castle was at dusk where the sunset directly behind the towers standing tall and proud. The rays of orange, yellow and red shone brightly, making the building stand out even more. It truly is a sight to behold.

But during the night, the town of NorthTrade was pitch black, even with the help of candles located outside on the walls, ceiling, and floor of not only the castle but the huts and houses, it seemed more for decoration than of physical use.The guards walked around the stone walls with lamps in their hands that barely illuminated five feet in front of them.

While this night progressed in particular, a figure dressed like the night made its way through the halls of the humongous castle, avoiding anybody that may find it and take it away to the dungeon. Like a clumsy assassin, slowly but steady, it reached the stable where it bumped into something or someone.

The man grabbed the figure firmly by the shoulders pushing it against the wood walls of the stable.

The figure let out a small yelp before the man pulled the hood of the black cloak it wore off its head.

“I’m sorry for startling you my love, a guard was passing,” The man whispered gently, ”Was the journey alright Wini?”

“It was going great until you scared me, my prince, ”Wini responded, looking up at the handsome, young man in front of her.

“Okay, okay one I told you to stop calling me by my title, it's george and george only,” George said moving his hands from Wini’s shoulder to her waist, ”and two, is it so wrong to make sure the love of my life is safe?”

Wini’s smile quickly faltered, tears filled her eyes as the reality of the situation she was in struck her harder than ever before.

“Don't say that George, please don't say that,” Wini whimpered looking down at her feet, ”Its what got us into this mess in the first place.”

“Hey, hey, hey look at me sweetheart,” george said, taking her chin between his fingers and kissing the tears falling down on her cheeks,” I promise, we will find each other again, be it next month, next year, next decade, hell in another life, we will be together again.”

His face was so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her own. Without a moment to lose, he pressed his lips against hers making sure to take care in every movement that he made. He wanted to remember what holding her felt like, what kissing her felt like. What knowing what it felt like to know that he was hers and she was his.

The kiss lasted longer than it should have to get hotter and more desperate until the clearing of a throat interrupted the passionate lovers.

“Sorry to barge in but we don't have any more time my lord, we must leave and settle in before daylight,” Joseph Rogers said from his position near a saddled and prepared horse, munching on an apple then feeding the rest to the animal beside him

“Were you standing there the whole time joe?” Geoge said, turning around to greet his long time friend.

“For about a minute or two, didn't want to interrupt the almighty highness and his lover. God knows what might happen if I ever deface the future king.” Joseph joked walking up to the couple.

Slapping a hand on his friends back, George let out a soft chuckle, ”You’re lucky you’re my friend joey, or else I could have your head with you speaking to me that way.”

George pulled joseph into a tight hug then pulled away, holding him at arm's length by his shoulders.

“Thank you for doing this, I owe you everything,” George said somberly

“You owe me nothing,” Joseph responded, walking back to the horse and grabbing the lead by its head, ”its time to go, Winifred, your chariot awaits.”

Wini turned to George, holding her stomach with one hand and grabbing his hand with the other, “I love you, George, I love you so much.” she said giving him one last kiss before walking over to Joseph who helped her mount the horse.

“Stay safe my love, and remember I will see you again,”

Wini nodded before bringing the hood of her cloak up around her head. Joseph mounted the horse in front of her. Nodding at George he turned the horse around then rode off into the night, disappearing into the darkness of the forest.

Wiping away a tear, George walked back into the castle with the taste of his love still lingering on his lips.

21 YEARS LATER

“And these plums are from the town over?” Bucky questioned, stroking his chin were his beard use to lay. He still hasn't gotten used to his smooth jaw after having a thick beard for so long.

“Yes sir, hand picked from the fields, it’s there season this time of year,” the salesman said, picking up a plum from the display in front of him and holding it up to his face as if to admire it like a piece of jewelry.

“I’ll just take these, how much will it be?” Bucky mumbled, fiddling with the pouch containing the money he was gifted by his mother to buy food for tonight, he nearly dropped it before centering himself and moving with more care.

“5 coins sir. In a hurry I see?” the salesman chuckled noticing the man's frantic movements.

Bucky handed the salesman the money before responding, “Just a big day ahead of me”

“you got a girl at home sir?” he snickered, giving bucky a smug look.

“uh no not exactly,” bucky muttered looking away from the stall and shifting his stance, clearly uncomfortable and eager to get out of the conversation. He couldn’t just walk away, his mother taught him better.

“ah! You know a man with a face and build like you can get a wife easily,” the salesman rambled turning away to grab a clean clothe from the counter behind him then turning back to continue, “you know there’s a lady who lives in the house besides me, you’d love her. Slim, fair and gorgeous eyes quite like yours and a monster in bed from what I hear every night. I can get you too together in a heartbeat. She works at the bar down the road if you are interested. I would take her up but unfortunately, I must stay loyal to my wife”

Bucky gave an uneasy smile and the man chuckled loudly shaking his head, “uh, yes, of course, I’ll um check her out?”

“I expect an invitation to the wedding,” the salesman winked before turning to accommodate another customer.

Bucky let out a harsh blow of breath he didn't even know he was holding before turning away and walking back home. While taking step after step on the dusty, rough streets of Glendale he felt stressed and nervous to get back home.

Bucky wasn’t exactly a well known person throughout the town. People knew his face when they see him walk around town and work in the back at the local bakery, but he never spoke to anyone unless necessary, he usually kept to himself most of the time. The only people he would talk to on a regular were his parents, his best friend steve and you.

You were one of the town’s healer at the nearby med hut, learning everything you knew from your mother about caring and tending for people at a young age and decided to continue in her legacy after her unfortunate passing. Despite the miseries of your own life, you still treated everyone with kindness and hospitality no matter who they were.

Even outside your job, you still cared for the children of the town whether it be a simple walk in the park or telling stories about silly stories gossiped by the women outside in the garden, you never failed to make them smile.

Sometimes bucky would stare from the window right next to the oven he was given to work with, just to get a glimpse of you passing by, bending down to tuck a fresh flower behind a little girl’s ear before kissing her nose and walking off hand in hand followed by the rest of rowdy kids fighting for your attention.

If he wasn't quick enough, he would end up burning the bread he set in the oven while getting lost in your beauty.

Yes, it may have seemed creepy, but he promised himself that wasn't his intention. You were different from all the other girls he’s meet and It was no surprise as to why steve befriended you in the first place and boy was he glad that he had a special place in your heart outside of all the thirsty, greedy men in the town. Maybe not as special as he wanted it to be but he would always take what he got.

Before he could get more lost in thought about you, large, muscular arms made it way around his head. He knew exactly whose they were when he was tugged into a massive hug, almost dropping his bag of plums.

“well what do we have here, a wild buckaroo!” the voice happily boomed, letting bucky out the hug keeping an arm around his neck.

bucky huffed in annoyance at his older bother’s antics, “this is why mom was so eager to get you out of the house steve, and yet you still attack me like a baby cub hunting for the first time,” bucky responding sarcastically pushing his brother away playfully.

“sorry little brother, I tend to get excited on special days like this,” steve said happily crossing his hand over his biceps, stopping in his tracks, “you’re going to tell her today right?”

Ah yes, bucky thought, today was the day that he was going to confess his undying love for you. Despite your intelligence in your field of healing, you were quite oblivious to any man's intentions when it came to love.

When the topic always came up between conversation you two had, you always responded with the same line, “maybe later, not now but later.”

You never took care in getting a husband anytime soon. It was never a top priority of yours. But bucky couldn't help but think about the prolonged stares that you would give him or the light touches on his hands and cheek that stayed a moment too long for it to be a friendly gesture, not that he minded. He obviously talked to steve about it and with much convincing, he decided to invite you to dinner tonight.

He could've only hoped that actions spoke louder than words when it came to your love language.

“of course, everything is already prepared, it would be stupid to not go through with it,” bucky mumbled, his insecurities getting the best of him as he looked down to the ground, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Steve sighed heavily before placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“bucky, there’s no way hell that she’ll pass you up. You’re the only man that she actually tolerates in this bloody town, well besides me and I already have peggy which leaves room for you and really only you,”

Bucky huffed, “but what if-”

“no no no, no buts, no ifs. She’s going to enjoy it. She does love you more than you think buck but I ca’t be the one to tell you that, you got to figure it out yourself. And if not she’s an even bigger idiot than you, and that says quite a lot,” steve responded, shaking bucky’s shoulder lightly, “ and no matter what happens, just remember ill be with you till the end of the line pal, or if this works out, just until you and y/n walk into the bedroom.”

Bucky shoved steve’s hand off his shoulder with a chuckle. Looking at his brother with hopeful eyes, he took a deep breath and looked up at the sky before back at him, nodding and silently telling him okay.

With that, the two brothers walked back home side by side, one giddy with excitement while the other quietly worried about the night to come.

Taglist (comment if ya wanna be added or message me:)

@affabletimelady @jadegill

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bapydemonprincess · 4 years

Note

Grellrin and Sebamey for the ship asks!

Yoooou got it honey! 🖤❤️💖

Grellrin:

Who always wins when they play Trivia Crack: Ah yes, everyone doing this ask meme will get this reference, totally... >___>; I had to look it up, myself and it’s a basic trivia with friends thing on a mobile app. Uh, so, I think Mey and Grelle would both be neck in neck with this in a modern au... Although I think history stuff is more Grelle’s than Mey’s and Mey would be a bit more better at Entertainment than anything else. But when it comes to stuff like that overall they both are very good and both very competitive! However in the long run, both don’t like seeing their girlfriend lose TwT Its never fun and they don’t like rubbing it in for each other!

Who laughs when their partner trips on something: Uhhh, neither, probably, they are both big worry warts about each other when one has the slightest accident! They’d never laugh at each other!

Who would drop ice down the back of the other’s shirt as a joke: Er I can’t see either of them doing this really, maybe Mey once? But only if she and Grelle were very very close at that point and she knew it wouldn’t be taken badly! XD;;

Who spoils the ending of books/movies: Well they both TRY their hardest not to, but we all know both ladies are big blabber mouths if even a tiny winy hint of an exciting thing comes their way. XD It’s very much torture if they are watching something, but one of them has seen it already! But they DO love seeing the other’s reaction to said thing in certain points they know about and have been anticipating their lover reaching!

Who always posts a picture of the other as their MCM or WCW: YRHEYDTFUYG 🙈 another thing I had to look up boy howdy 😂😂😂😂 Since it stands for “Man Crush Mondays” or “Women Crush Wednesdays”, the latter would be used in this case, and I mean... well... duh, probably both! Though I think Grelle is likely more vocal about how much she loves her Mey Mey on social media than Mey. uwu (Mey likely uses insta acc. for it’s original purpose, to take pretty pics! But doesn’t do twitter really..)

Who eats the last piece of cake in the fridge before the other can have it: htjftuygiu I can see Grelle being the sweets hog more than Mey, she likes sweets on occasion, especially holidays and stuff, but Grelle loves them more! A guilty pleasure I think of the red head! And really, Mey doesn’t mind TOO much, she just sasses her a little! >:3 (Which sometimes leads to some interesting scenarios involving convos like “Oh, I’ve been so naughty haven’t I~? W-will you... be punishing me for this?” “G-GRELLE STOOOP!” “WHAT?! I must PAY for my crimes! Oh, please be gentle~” “UTDyktfuygiuh 🙈🙈🙈 ” 😂😂😂)

Who obnoxiously celebrates Monday Punday every week: (Wow... that’s a thing. An actual thing. Unbelievable. 😒 ) This is.. definitely neither girl’s thing. XD

Who makes loving hack posts on the other’s Facebook/Instagram/Tumblr/Twitter etc: Uhhh neither??? They are very loyal and sweet and loving and are NEVER that way to each other TwT (these questions really really don’t fit these two, do they 🙈)

Who has to beat their partner in every game: Again, neither girl is like that TwT

Who keeps their partner up half the night talking about random stuff: Well, I think this only applies on rare occasions when one- usually Grelle I think - has dealt with a bad day, and can’t get to sleep, and thus Mey Mey doesn’t MIND staying up and listening to her, until she likely wears herself out. ;w; BUT also maybe, more in canon verse, Mey might stay up all night and need to talk and just cuddle too, because of her past as “Owl”, and thus the nightmares she sometimes still has on occasion, so she can’t get sleep. 😭

Who eats too much garlic and tries to kiss their partner anyway: jyfygiuhoij I can only see this weird idea happening if one of them is like drunk a bit and they’d had maybe a meal with garlic bread and they are all lovey dovey and maybe also wanna thank the other for the meal and date!! XD But I can’t choose, because they both are silly, cute drunks, probably. >w< (Mey just gets there FASTER ;3 )

Sebamey:

Who always wins when they play Trivia Crack: Sebastian probably is better overall at such games, but he never EVER rubs it in with Mey Rin, and finds himself going a bit overboard with praise when she does win XD He’s such a sweet dork.

Who laughs when their partner trips on something: Definitely neither in this either! If Sebastian actually ever trips (which is RARE), Mey Rin is way too full of WORRY to laugh!! And if Mey Rin trips, Sebastian is VERY quick to scoop her up and make sure she’s alright!! ;w;

Who would drop ice down the back of the other’s shirt as a joke: Again MAYBE Mey Rin would try, she’s a bit more childishly whimsical and prone to enjoying tiny little pokes at her love, but only ONCE or TWICE >w>;;

Who spoils the ending of books/movies: Definitely neither with these two, they LOVE seeing each other’s reactions to things!!

Who always posts a picture of the other as their MCM or WCW: ykutgiyuhoi I definitely don’t think either are into this, unless pressured online to do it by friends XD Since Sebastian is definitely a very private guy unless its things like opinions on media and politics, he probably WOULD only do it once, and obviously it would be Mey >w< He loves his girl! (Again like with the Grellerin answer, Mey’s not into this stuff either!)

Who eats the last piece of cake in the fridge before the other can have it: As I cannot see a human Sebastian even being into sweets that much at all, it’s likely obviously gonna be Mey! >w< (”Oh my, wherever could that last piece of cake gone that Agni specifically gave to us, hmm?” “Uh- Um... I-I dunno..” “Oh? Are you suuure dearest? You have been going through some cravings lately, and you did eat most of the cake in the FIRST place..” “I- I... Ohhhh, Sebastian!!” “Oooo, dear oh dear, my little Mey has been a naughty girl, whatever shall I do~?” “S-Seb... Seb-! N-No! No not the sides! NOOOO!!! HEEEHEHEHEEEE~!!!” )

Who obnoxiously celebrates Monday Punday every week: Well, I’m sure we know by now who would REALLY, TRULY be into such a ridiculous thing...Pffft, but let’s see if the stupid dork GETS AWAY WITH IT WITHOUT MEY SHUTTING HIM UP EVENTUALLY. >:3

Who makes loving hack posts on the other’s Facebook/Instagram/Tumblr/Twitter etc: Neither would be into that!!

Who has to beat their partner in every game: Again, neither! They’re too soft for each other to be even a little mean like that!

Who keeps their partner up half the night talking about random stuff: Again, likely Mey in this too, in modern au and canonverse. Especially since I can totally see human Seb as a bit of a light sleeper, bordering on insomniac. TwT He’s just like that!

Who eats too much garlic and tries to kiss their partner anyway: Uh, probably a drunk Mey Mey, and Seb doesn’t really mind since his girl is too cute when drunk OR sober! >w<

#Ship questions #ugh I'll try to find a better thing for these ships next time #but hope you like these anyway dear!!#thanks for sending this!!#💖💖💖💖#Grellerin #Grellrin #Sebamey #grelleswife

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ml-reverse-crush-au · 5 years

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Some Headcanons

· Adrien has a Marinette shrine, filled with several pictures of her in the most unlikely places, courtesy of Nino smuggling from Alya—who often questions why, but Nino assures it's because Adrien wants some modeling ideas.

· He is a nervous mess around Mari, and occasionally stutters, but mostly is able to talk to her—sometimes.

· Marinette is more subtle of her crush on Chat becuz she's shy and doesn't want to embarrass herself if he ever did drop by her house.

· MariChat is the Canon's Ladrien. These two are blushing and nervous pair of dorks, though Chat still retains his smooth lines and flirty quips, but most of the times, it ends up incoherent sentences, however the pair understand what they mean.

· Chat is one smitten kitten as he leaves a rose on Marinette's balcony every night without fail to let her know she is loved.

· Plagg often teases Adrien's behavior around Marinette, which often ends up in Adrien banning him camembert for 15 minutes.

· Ladrien is canon's MariChat. They really keep each other at arm's length and have few interactions, but they get along well.

· Marinette finds Adrien a little bit strange, but she usually brushes it off as she assumes he's just socially awkward.

· Adrien is also a smitten sunshine child, as whenever Marinette stands up for anyone against Chloe, the boy just swoons and often ignores Chloe when she complains to him

· Lila this time around, isn't interested in Adrien, as she focuses on the popularity that Marinette holds, so she often finds ways to attach herself to the bluenette (this is usually achieved by her lies of knowing Chat Noir)

· Adrien was one jelly bean when he finds out Nathanaël's little crush on Marinette. Which turns into a crying session w/Nino because "Of course he'd like her! She's just the most kind and selfless, brave, not to mention beautiful soul on earth"

· This time 'round, Adrien is the one who comes up with the names for their future children.

· Chat is more playful than a flirt with Ladybug, because being the sweetheart gentleman he is, saves his flirty quips for his princess.

· More often than not, Chat talks constantly about Marinette, complimenting ever last part of her, much to Ladybug's sadness. She's uses teasing tone to hide the obvious hurt in her voice.

· Ladybug often finds herself swooning over Chat especially when he does something reckless and brave, and Chat usually snaps her out of it.

· Ladybug drops subtle hints about her love for him, but most of the time, it flies by Chat.

· During the events of dark cupid, it's Ladybug who gets hit with the arrow and Chat has to kiss her to snap her out of it

· Ladybug is often giving the lingering touches and adoring stares. (I.E. holding his hand longer than necessary whenever the situation gives her an opportunity for his touch, holding onto him a little longer when she saves him from falling, flying away, etc.)

· Ladybug is the blatant flirt but Chat is STILL clueless.

· Ladybug is often bringing him sweets from her parent's bakery that she helped bake and is always eager to hear his opinion

· In the events of Copy Cat, Ladybug is the one who is copied by the women who created the Ladybug and Chat Noir statue, who is infatuated with Chat. (the events happen the same way just instead of the sculptor dude, he's a she)

· Ladybug tired of being unintentionally rejected, comes clean with her feelings mid season 1 (This AU Mari, is far more open with her feelings that Canon Mari, plus Ladybug gives her confidence.) Only to get gently rejected by Chat, whose lingering gaze is on the Dupai Bakery when he explains he's already in love with another girl.

· Neither of them eager to share identities, as they both know the dangers—however Ladybug is a tiny winy bit eager to know whose behind the mask of the boy she loves.

· Like Mari's own little group of girlfriends in canon, Adrien has something similar with all the boys in his class. (I.e. Ivan, Kim, Max and Nino. Excluding: Nath because he's interested in Mari)

· In Animan, Alya is the one crushing on Adrien and Marinette is obliviously helping out her friend. And Adrien, excited that Marinette wants to hangout, fails to give her a firm answer and it's Nino who steps up and agrees to it.

· Also just like when Nino found out Marinette had feelings for Adrien through Alya in canon, Alya finds out Adrien has feelings for Marinette through Nino in this AU.

(This is it for now, might do part 2, later. Also what do you guys think, would you like to see some art regarding the reverse crush au in traditional drawing style? )

#reverse love square #reverse!crush au #ml reverse crush au #reverse crush au #reversed crush au #miraculous ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #marichat #adrienette #ladrien #ladynoir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrien x marinette #marinette x adrien

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purpli-writes · 4 years

Text

Danganronpa: Locked and Reloaded (Chapter 1: A Songbirds' Lullaby)

Summary:

Stuck in Hope's Peak Academy in a cruel killing game, class 78 is forced to either kill or stay trapped forever.

Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Lucky Student becomes friends with an unusual pair... of people?

Who would've thought discovering who murdered someone would get him two boyfriends.

Spoilers for Danganronpa Trigger Happy Havoc (somewhat)

You can read it on AO3 here

Makoto hated this school already. Confined to only one floor, he felt like a lab rat, always watched by an unknown yet threatening presence.

He found comfort hanging with Sayaka, for they had met when they were younger. She was truly the only familiar face.

Sure he had researched the other students before coming to this hell, but he didn’t know them.

And now?

He didn’t really care to.

Meeting the other students every day in the cafeteria was their idea of safety, something to grasp onto.

Seeing his peers already in the cafeteria made Makoto feel sheepish. He already felt out of place.

“Ah, Makoto, glad to have you join us!” Kiyotaka yelled, or maybe that was just his regular volume.

“Sorry for being late…” Makoto mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I must’ve overslept.”

“Tch,” Byakuya practically spat, “that much is obvious.”

Makoto chose to ignore the venom in Byakuya’s words and sat down at the cafeteria table.

“Anyways! As the Ultimate Moral Compass, I will lead today’s morning discussion!” Kiyotaka said, and his leadership went surprisingly unquestioned by the class.

Other than Makoto being late, the morning was uneventful. They had no information since their first day stuck in Hope’s Peak Academy. Monokuma was of course still very unhelpful.

“Well, well, well!” Monokuma began, “it looks like the ungrateful students finally have come crying to me!”

“N-no one c-called you here, M-Monokuma,” Toko said, hiding behind Byakuya.

“Semantics, semantics!” Monokuma yelled, “I think you students need a reason to escape this school.”

“A reason to leave this school?” Leon asked, staring blankly at Monokuma.

“Hm, all it seems to be is a reason to commit murder, yes?” Celeste added.

“Well, yes…” Monokuma said, pretending to be downtrodden, “but I think you’ll find this, well… motive, quite inspiring!”

“Motive?” Sayaka asked.

“Every murder has a motive! Don’t think I’ve forgotten that…” Monokuma scolded.

“Well, are ya gonna tell us the motive?!” Mondo asked, suddenly impatient.

“Hm… since you asked so nicely…” Monokuma said, putting his white paw on his face, as if thinking, “check your rooms!”

“Our rooms?” Makoto asked out loud, but it was mostly to himself.

“Yep! Yep! Yep! In your rooms a tape containing all you’ll need to know is waiting, oooh it really makes me anxious!” Monokuma replied happily before disappearing.

“So, what’re we supposed to do?” Leon asked.

“Obviously go to our rooms, idiot,” Byakuya told Leon before leaving. Everyone stared at where Byakuya just was for a moment before deciding to follow his advice.

Makoto headed back to his room, unlocking the door with his key.

When he first scanned the dorm, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He looked around for a moment before Monokuma appeared behind him.

“Well! It looks like you’re having trouble finding your tape, Makoto!” Monokuma yelled, scaring Makoto.

“W-when did you get in here?!” Makoto cried out

“Puhuhu, wouldn’t you like to know?” Monokuma responded

“Yeah… it would be helpful,” Makoto said, crossing his arms.

“Well! It’s somewhere in here…!” Monokuma said cheerfully.

What a big help, Makoto thought to himself.

“But if you’re so curious…” Monokuma said sweetly, “I can give you an eensy peensy tiny winy big fat freakin’ hinty winty.”

“...what?” Makoto asked.

“It’s hidden somewhere in this room, specifically somewhere behind your bed!” Monokuma said before disappearing.

“Behind my bed…? What could that mean?” Makoto asked himself. He decided to check the floor, but no tape was found.

“Huh, maybe he meant my desk…?” Makoto spoke to himself again. Inside his desk was a DVD in a jewel case, the DVD itself was labeled “Makoto” in rushed looking sharpie.

“What am I supposed to do with this…?” Makoto asked, out loud once again.

“Well, you can eat it!” Monokuma exclaimed as he once again appeared.

“E-eat it?!” Makoto asked.

“Yes! Put it in your mouth and chew really hard and you’ll get your motive.” Monokuma said, “Or… you can go into the AV room like everyone else and watch the clip with the DVRs. It’s really up to you!” Monokuma said as he once again disappeared.

Makoto took up on Monokuma’s advice and went to the AV room. Like Monokuma said his peers were already in the AV room.

“Makoto,” Sayaka said, “I didn’t want to watch my video without you… so, I’m glad you arrived!”

“Ah, Sayaka.” Makoto blushed, “how nice of you…?”

The two of them loaded the DVD into the DVR, after lagging for a second the TV showed a picture of Sayaka’s band.

After a moment of the picture showing up, narration began.

“Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Pop Sensation--lead singer for a world-famous all-girl pop band.”

Another flicker as the narration continued.

“For these girls, the glowing spotlight only made them that much more beautiful. But then…”

Suddenly the image changed, Sayaka was no longer part of the band and her bandmates were lying on the stage, facedown.

“This ultra-successful team suddenly fell apart!” The voice continued, mercilessly.

“None of them will ever perform on stage again. None of them will ever feel the warmth of the spotlight…”

“For Sayaka, there's simply nowhere for her to return to.”

“So here's the billion-dollar question--what oh what could have caused the group to go to pieces!?”

The monitor suddenly showed a picture of the text saying “Look for the answer after graduation!”

After the monitor shut off Sayaka stared blankly at the screen. Her eyes, filled with emotion only minutes before stared dead at the sight in front of them. For a moment she was as still as a statue, her lips in a thin line on her usually smiling face.

She turned to Makoto, voice filled with nothing and asked.

“Don’t you have your own motive to watch?”

Makoto was unnerved at Sayaka’s reaction, but he didn’t feel any need to argue. He was curious about his own tape.

Makoto moved away from Sayaka slowly, as he made his way to an unattended monitor.

He put in his DVD cautiously, he had no clue what it could contain. Sayaka’s video was so disturbing, he could only hope his would be a little better.

The screen flickered to life as Makoto’s family shined into view.

Makoto’s mom began the video’s audio, “You getting picked to attend Hope's Peak Academy is like a dream come true. Make sure you do your best!"

Makoto’s dad speaks next, “I'm so proud of you, son. But remember--don't push yourself too hard!"

Makoto’s sister, Komaru, speaks excitedly, “Are you really watching this, Makoto? Good luck, okay?"

Makoto stared at the screen, he was happy seeing his family but also worried about what was going to happen. Something told Makoto that his video wasn’t going to end happily for his family.

All of a sudden his family disappears and the couch they were sitting on is ruined, Monokuma’s voice snaps Makoto out of his stupor.

“Makoto Naegi, accepted into Hope's Peak Academy. And his family, who supported such a lucky boy..."

"But it seems like...something's happened to this family's well-being!"

"Oh boy, this is bad! What could have possibly happened to this family's well-being!?"

Like Sayaka’s video, the video of what happened to his family faded out and was replaced with text that said: “Look for the answer after graduation!”. Makoto’s heart was beating faster than he knew possible. Staring blankly at his screen, he felt his mouth go dry.

What had happened to his family?

Sayaka who realized Makoto’s video was done, came up to him. She still seemed off, cold and distant.

“Can we talk privately?” she asked Makoto in a small voice. Makoto nodded, still trying to understand what he saw on his video.

Sayaka led Makoto to an empty classroom. After a minute her composure totally broke.

She fell to the floor and started sobbing. Makoto, still in shock, took a moment to realize what was happening.

“Sayaka!” Makoto cried out, falling to the floor with her, “are you alright?!”

Sayaka sobbed endlessly, grabbing onto Makoto like he was a life preserver.

“Promise me,” Sayaka gasped out between sobs, “that we’ll get out together, no matter what.”

Makoto paused for a moment before responding, “Of course!” he yells a bit too loud. “We’ll make it out together, alright?”

Seemingly calmed by his promise, Sayaka’s sobs began to weaken, turning into short gasps.

Monokuma decided it’s the perfect time to intervene.

“Ah, young love! How I wish I was young again!” Monokuma cried.

“W-what are you doing here?!” Makoto asked, once again unnerved by his headmaster’s appearance.

“Ahaha! I love seeing the tears of my disciples, it fills me with such joy!” Monokuma replied, laughing maniacally.

“Well, you’re not going to get us to kill,” Makoto responded, filled with righteous anger.

“Oh? Is that true? You can control all of your peers?”

“Well.. no,” Makoto admitted, “but, I can believe in them! Surely that must be enough!”

“Ahaha! Such naivety from a highschooler, do you also believe in fairy tales?” Monokuma said as Makoto stared at him, unable to respond.

“I digress! Have fun making out, kids!” Monokuma yelled before disappearing.

“Well, I guess we should move, now,” Sayaka mutters.

“Are you alright, Sayaka?” Makoto asks, concerned for his friend.

“I’ll be fine, you promised me we’ll get out of here together, and I believe you,” Sayaka said smiling, she was completely back to normal.

Makoto nodded, at Sayaka’s statement.

“Well, we should head to bed. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Of course!” Makoto said eagerly, truth be told this was all mentally exhausting.

As Makoto made his way back to his room, he couldn’t help but feel worried. Sayaka’s reaction to her tape was so… un-Sayaka like…? He had no better term.

How important were her bandmates? Were they like family?

Makoto’s thoughts were plagued with worry as he slowly fell asleep.

Makoto was awoken to the usual sound of the morning announcement. Groaning as he got up, he slowly made his way to the shower.

Taking a brief shower so he wouldn’t be late to the morning meeting, Makoto got out of his room 30 minutes later.

Making his way to the cafeteria Makoto was surprised to only see Kiyotaka there.

“Ah! Makoto!” Kiyotaka yelled at Makoto as he made way into the cafeteria.

“...Oh, Kiyotaka… it’s nice to see you.” Makoto mumbled, still tired.

“Aha! You don’t have to call me Kiyotaka, we’re friends, you can call me Taka.” Kiyotaka told Makoto.

“Ah, sorry, I must’ve forgotten, Taka,” Makoto mumbled.

“Makoto! You aren’t a morning person!” Kiyotaka yelled, causing Makoto to wince slightly.

“No… I guess not.” Makoto said dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

“Well, you should learn to love mornings, Makoto!” Kiyotaka began, “after all, it’s best to start early and get ahead!”

“Huh? Yeah…” Makoto muttered, pretending to agree.

The other students started filling the cafeteria, even Byakuya showed up.

The morning meeting like yesterday’s was uneventful, they had no new information. No routes of escape.

After the morning meeting, Sayaka approached Makoto.

“Makoto, would you like to hang out?” Sayaka asked Makoto.

Makoto nodded, happy to see his fears were unfounded about Sayaka’s behavior.

“Sure,” Makoto said, “where do you wanna go?”

“I was thinking we just explore the school,” Sayaka admitted, “I want to get to know this place.”

“Good idea!” Makoto said, “lead the way!”

And so, Sayaka did in fact, lead the way.

Eventually, the pair of them made their way to the trophy room.

“Huh,” Sayaka muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Makoto asked.

“Don’t you think our rooms are a little bare…?” Sayaka asked, scanning the room.

“When you say that, yeah…” Makoto muttered, not understanding where this conversation was leading.

“That sword!” Sayaka said suddenly, “you should put it in your room!”

“Are you sure we’re allowed to take it?” Makoto asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Sayaka said, “I mean it’s not Monokuma branded and it says nothing about taking things from the school…”

“Well, then let’s get it into my room.”

Makoto brought the sword into his room and placed it on his counter. Looking down at his hands, he could see a gold coloring staining them.

“Huh, it looks like some of the gold paint has stained my hands…” Makoto mumbled to himself.

“Weird,” Sayaka agreed. “You think for Hope’s Peak it would have much higher quality paint…”

“Well, you wouldn’t think we’d be trapped in Hope’s Peak either,” Makoto replied.

“Well, I guess you’re right about that.” Sayaka agreed.

“Anyways, Makoto,” Sayaka began, “I must be going, but seek me out any time you want to hang out!”

“Already…? Well, alright. See you later?” Makoto asked.

Sayaka looked at him and smiled, “see you later!” she echoed.

Makoto now had time to himself.

Who could he hang out with?

Checking his Monokuma tablet, he saw the icon of Chihiro Fujisaki in the hallway of the dorms.

Makoto left his dorm and found Chihiro idling.

“Oh, Makoto…!” Chihiro said when Makoto went up to her.

“Hey Chihiro, would you like to hang out…?” Makoto asked.

“Huh…? Sure..!” Chihiro replied after a moment.

After hanging out with Chihiro for a little bit, walking around the school it was quite clear to Makoto that something was bothering the girl.

“No… No…!” Chihiro muttered.

“What’s wrong, Chihiro?” Makoto asked.

“Ahh, it hurts…” Chihiro said, tears already beginning to form in her eyes.

“Huh? Did you get hurt, Chihiro?” Makoto asked worriedly.

“Oh, well…not really. I got bit by a mosquito last night.”

“A mosquito…? Oh, I figured something serious happened, since you were saying how it hurt.”

“Oh, did I give you the wrong impression…?” Chihiro asked, but before Makoto could respond Chihiro apologized.

“You don’t have to apologize. It was my own fault.” Makoto said, still frowning, “but you said it hurts? Did it really bite you that hard?”

“Yeah, see? Look.” After saying this Chihiro showed Makoto her arm. The huge red bite stood out clearly against her skin.

“Holy cow!” Makoto exclaimed.

“It’s way past itchy now. It really hurts…!” Chihiro complained.

“But why’s it so big? Did it bite you while you were sleeping or something?”

“Oh, no. I was awake.”

“But you didn’t notice?”

“No, I noticed. But…”

“But what?” Makoto asked, curious.

“Well I felt it bite me, and I looked down at it. But I didn’t do anything. I just sat there and watched it suck my blood…”

“You just watched? Why didn’t you smack it?”

“Cuz… that would’ve killed it, right?”

“Well yeah, but…”

“It must have been really hungry to suck that much blood.” Chihiro explained, “If it was that hungry, it would’ve been really sad not to let it have anything.”

“But...it’s just a mosquito.” Makoto interjected.

“Mosquitos are living things too, though. It might have its own mosquito family…” Chihiro muttered, “S-Sorry, I know that's dumb…”

“No, really, you don't have to apologize. But don't go scratching it, okay? That'll just make things worse.”

“But what if it gets so itchy I can't take it?” Chihiro asked.

“Well...in that case, just take the tip of your fingernail and push it into the bump. That’ll help.”

“Wow, I had no idea…!” Chihiro said, eyes lighting up with joy. “You’re so smart, Makoto!” After pausing for a moment, Chihiro continued to speak.

“But anyway, don’t you think it’s kinda strange?”

“Huh? What is?” Makoto asked.

“Well this school is completely sealed off, right? So how'd a mosquito get in? Maybe there's somewhere here in the school where bugs can live and grow. Some kind of...nature-y spot.” Chihiro paused again, “Or or or! Maybe there's a secret passage somewhere that leads out of the school!”

“Well, even if there's not, I'm sure we'll get out of here somehow. As long as we all work together, I'm sure we'll be out of here in no time!” Makoto said, matching Chihiro’s enthusiasm.

“You're right! Working together is super important…” after Chihiro said this, she looked down, “Of course, I dunno how I can be useful. I'll probably just weigh you all down…”

“That's not true! It makes me feel way better knowing you're here to help!” Makoto said, trying to lift Chihiro’s spirits.

“It does? Really...?”

“Yup! So let's all do our best, okay?”

“O-Okay! Eheh... Thank you, Makoto.” After saying this, Chihiro told Makoto she had to go. Makoto nodded before checking his Monokuma tablet again. He was interested in Kyoko Kirigiri, the only person here who’s talent wasn’t revealed yet.

The Monokuma tablet told him that Kyoko was in her dorm, Makoto made his way back to the dorms and knocked on her door.

After a few moments, Kyoko opened the door and stared at him.

“Why’re you here?” Kyoko asked, not rude, but uninterested.

“I was wondering if we could… hang out…?” Makoto asked. Kyoko thought for a moment before sighing.

“Sure, might as well.”

After hanging out, Kyoko stared expectantly at Makoto.

“Is something wrong, Kyoko?”

“Are you scared, Makoto?” Kyoko asked him suddenly.

“Huh…?” Makoto asked, confused.

“Being trapped in a place like this…” Kyoko clarified, slightly.

“Wh-Who wouldn’t be…? Of course, I’m scared, being trapped in this insane school…” Makoto admitted.

“Ah. That’s good.”

“That’s… good?”

“Fear is proof that your imagination is still functioning. Frankly, I feel bad for anyone who can’t feel fear.” Kyoko explained. “Without imagination, you can never deduce what action to take next.”

“But what about you? You seem totally calm. You don’t act afraid at all.” Makoto muttered.

“I’m scared too, of course… I simply hide my emotions. There’s no advantage to be gained from letting others see how you feel.”

“You hide…? Huh?”

“What I mean is, I’m not as foolishly open as you are.” Kyoko paused briefly, “Also, the ‘fear’ I experience is a little different from yours, I imagine.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You’re afraid of what you might lose, right? But I’m afraid of what I’ve already lost.”

“I’m sorry...I don’t understand.”

“I know.” After saying that Kyoko turned around and left, leaving Makoto dumbfounded. One thing was for sure, Makoto didn’t have a clearer understanding of Kyoko at all.

After hanging out with Kyoko, Makoto headed back to his room. Tired, he wasn’t expecting to hear a knock on his door.

When he opened the door he saw Sayaka standing there.

“Ah, Makoto… may I come in?” Sayaka asked politely.

“Sure, Sayaka…” Makoto muttered, moving out of the way.

“I’m sorry for imposing,” Sayaka said, “but I’m simply too scared to sleep in my room tonight.”

“You’re scared?” Makoto asked, “what for?”

“I think I heard someone trying to force their way into my room,” Sayaka admitted.

“That’s horrible!” Makoto yelled, “do you know who, by any chance?”

“I’m afraid not, if it isn’t too much of a bother…” Sayaka began, “could we switch rooms for the night?”

“Uh… sure… but first I’ve got to teach you a bit about my room.” Makoto said.

“Huh?” Sayaka asked.

“My bathroom door doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. You have to move the door up because it doesn’t fit into the frame properly.”

“Oh. How interesting.” Sayaka said. “Well, I won’t have to worry about that tonight, will I?”

Makoto flushed, the water had already turned off, so Sayaka was right about that.

“I’ll be needing your key, right?” Makoto asked, and Sayaka smiled.

“Here you go, Makoto!” She said happily, handing him the key. “And thank you for this.” Makoto smiled as he left his room and made his way to Sayaka’s.

Her room was much the same, except it seemed pinker… odd.

Makoto didn’t have any time to worry about this though, as he soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Makoto awoke to nothing. Sayaka wasn’t in the room, which he thought was odd. Deciding it was time to head to his own room, he slowly left Sayaka’s dorm.

Heading into his own dorm, something felt off. Maybe he needed a shower?

Suddenly he sees the most disturbing site, Leon Kuwata, lying motionless in a pool of his own blood.

His body was covered in stab wounds, whoever did this to him was not kind.

Forgetting the fact that his dorm room’s door was still open, Makoto screamed. His vision started fading as he passed out.

When Makoto woke up, he realized he was on a bleacher. His stomach was doing flips as he was slowly remembering what he just saw.

“Ah! Sleeping beauty is finally up!” Monokuma said, sarcastically.

“Huh…? What happened…?” Makoto asked, fearful of the answer.

“Well, you don’t remember, huh… That might be a problem.” Monokuma said, “well luckily for you! I’m in the mood of explaining!”

“Well y’see, Leon Kuwata’s corpse has just been found in your bathroom!” Monokuma said, whilst laughing.

“L-leon’s corpse?!” Makoto cried out, disturbed.

“Mhm, brutally murdered in the same place you shower, how disgusting!” Monokuma said as if he was scolding Makoto.

“Why were we all called here?” Kyoko questioned, staring straight at Monokuma.

“Right to the point, aren’t we, Kirigiri ?” Monokuma asked. “Well, I suppose it can’t be helped. I have to be honest with you students, I’ve been keeping a few secrets to myself.”

“S-secrets?” Toko asked, staring at Monokuma fearfully.

“I haven’t really explained graduation to its fullest extent, have I?” Monokuma asked to himself, “Nope! I haven’t at all.”

“What else could be missing?” Sakura asked.

“Well, … there’s something called a ‘Class Trial’... where the surviving members of your class all engage in a trial to decide who the blackened is…!”

“So, the killer doesn’t get to ‘graduate’ after committing a murder?” Sayaka asked, suddenly seeming concerned.

“That wouldn’t be very good for business, y’know…” Monokuma muttered, “If the blackened is found guilty, they get executed!”

“E-executed?!” Sayaka cried out.

“Mhm! But if they’re not found guilty… the whole class except for them dies!” Monokuma said, whilst laughing.

“S-so no m-matter w-what happens, s-somebody dies…” Toko muttered.

“Mhm! What a cruel world we live in indeed!” Monokuma replied quite cheerfully.

“And you think we’re going to play by your rules?” Junko asked, staring at Monokuma with her arms crossed.

“You’re gonna have to!” Monokuma said, “Afterall if you attempt to ignore the class trial that’d be considered as you breaking the rules!”

“And if you break the rules, you’ll get punished nonetheless!”

“So,” Celeste began “no matter what, if we want to survive, we have to play by your rules?”

“Yep! That is if you value your life!”

“Well, how’re we supposed to find the blackened…?” Aoi asked.

“Investigation, of course! You can’t have a trial without evidence, can ya?” Monokuma asked.

“Anyways! You kids are gonna need an autopsy report!” Monokuma said, “after all, you need to know all about Leon’s final moments!”

“This seems very morbid,” Kyoko muttered.

“It also seems like a waste of time,” Byakuya said, “after all we already know Makoto did it.”

“What? No, I didn’t!” Makoto yelled.

“Leon’s body was found in your bathroom, Makoto,” Byakuya replied, crossing his arms.

“T-that doesn’t mean anything…” Makoto mumbled, but Makoto knew how bad the situation looked for him.

“Well! You can all vote Makoto in the class trial, but for now, you need evidence!”

“W-where are w-we s-supposed to g-get e-evidence?” Toko asked.

“Anywhere! It’s your investigation, not mine!” Monokuma said before disappearing.

“I think our best idea is to head to the crime scene,” Aoi said suddenly. The class looked at each other for a moment before nodding.

Everyone started leaving the gym and Makoto followed after them. Making their way back to Makoto’s dorm, Kyoko, Mondo, Sakura, Byakuya, and Makoto all went into the dorm.

“It seems your dorm has been left in quite a mess, Makoto,” Kyoko noted.

“Huh…?” Makoto asked.

“Unless you normally knock down tables and chairs, your room is certainly not in the way you left it,” Kyoko noted.

“Huh, you’re right…” Makoto mumbled.

“It seems there was at least a struggle in here, but why…?” Kyoko mumbled to herself.

Makoto thought it might be smart to check his bathroom, even if he didn’t want to see Leon, he knew he had to.

He didn’t really get a clear view before he passed out, so he had to look now.

The sight of Leon was still just as disturbing as he remembered. Leon’s shirt was filled with holes and colored pink with his blood. A knife, presumably the one that murdered him, lay next to him. Leon’s mouth was stained with blood, implying internal bleeding.

That wasn’t the oddest part of Leon’s body, sure the murder was gruesome, but the weirdest part of Leon’s body was his hands.

As Kyoko lifted up Leon’s hands, Makoto and Kyoko could see that they were absolutely covered in gold dust.

“Hm, what is this on his hands…?” Kyoko asked, mostly to herself.

“I think… it’s gold powder from the sword in my room…” Makoto answered, slightly unsure.

“Gold powder from the sword in your room…?” Kyoko asked.

“Yeah, Sayaka suggested I bring it into my room. We found it in the trophy room, but it’s seemed to be cheaply made, as the gold coloring stained my hands.”

“Hm…” Kyoko muttered. “I don’t think we’ll find anything more here,” after saying that Kyoko left the bathroom and Makoto followed her.

Kyoko looked around the room and stared at Makoto’s desk.

“Makoto,” Kyoko began, “I think there’s something interesting about your desk.”

“Huh…? My desk?” Makoto asked.

“Once you find it, bring it back to me.” Kyoko said, “We’ll examine it.”

Makoto made his way to his desk, once he was there, the only thing out of the ordinary was the placement of his notepad. Was this what Kyoko was talking about? Grabbing the notepad, Makoto brought the notepad to Kyoko.

“Is this what you’re talking about?” Makoto asked.

“Hm, yes,” Kyoko replied, taking the notepad out of his hand.

After scribbling on the paper, indentations were revealed that spelled out a message. According to the writing, Sayaka had invited Leon to visit her during the night.

“Is there anything else you need from me, Kyoko?” Makoto asked.

“Yes, actually.” Kyoko responded, “Have you noticed anything weird about Sayaka?”

“Weird about Sayaka…?” Makoto echoed, confused.

“Hm,” Kyoko muttered before continuing, “in my opinion, after we got our motive tapes, Sayaka seemed the most affected out of all of us. I just think you should keep that in mind,” after saying that, Kyoko left the room.

Makoto didn’t think he’d get any more information out of his dorm room and left.

When Makoto made it to the dorm hallway, he saw Sayaka standing holding her wrist. Concerned he went to talk to her.

“Sayaka, is there something wrong with your wrist?” Makoto asked.

“Huh?!” Sayaka asked startled.

“You’re gripping your wrist, that’s all…” Makoto muttered.

“Oh, my wrist is aching… that’s all. Anyways Makoto, I must be going!” Sayaka said before going back into her dorm. Makoto thought that was odd but there was nothing he could do about it.

Before Makoto could turn, Kiyotaka walked up to him.

“Makoto! Have you noticed anything strange about Sayaka?” Kiyotaka asked.

“Huh… what do you mean…?” Makoto asked.

“I mean, why she would be wearing your clothes so early in the morning?!” Kiyotaka asked as if this was the biggest scandal of his life.

“Wearing my clothes…? Taka, what are you talking about?”

“This morning, right after the morning announcement, Sayaka went into the laundry room wearing your clothing,” Kiyotaka explained.

“M-my clothing?! Taka, what are you implying?” Makoto asked.

“Remember, sexual intercourse is not permitted in a school environment!” Kiyotaka yelled before walking away.

Slightly confused, Makoto tried to talk to all of his classmates, most of them didn’t have anything to say, except Aoi.

“Well, I know you should be the biggest suspect, Makoto…” Aoi began, “but, Sayaka was a little bit weird last night…”

“How so?” Makoto asked.

“Well, she went into the kitchen and didn’t say hi to anyone,” Aoi said, “she left with a knife…”

“A knife?!”

“I know, right?!” Aoi sighed, “Anyways Makoto, just be careful…” After Aoi left, Makoto decided to see if he could verify if the knife was still missing.

Heading to the kitchen he made his way to the knives, in the knife set a knife was in fact missing.

Before Makoto could make heads or tails of the situation, Monokuma’s voice sounded throughout the school.

“The investigation time is over! If everyone could head to the Monokuma room labeled on your Monokuma tablet so we could begin the class trial, that would be great!”

Makoto made his way to the Monokuma room, the doors that were usually closed were opened and he could see his classmates already in the room.

Once Makoto got in, he realized that this was an elevator.

Monokuma appeared and was muttering something to himself.

“Alright, kids! I hope you’re not afraid of elevators because we’re going down!” As Monokuma said that the elevator started its slow descent down.

Makoto stood awkwardly, was he really prepared for the class trial? He’d have to prove his innocence here, if he didn’t, they’d all die.

But who was the killer? Could it really be one of his friends?

Makoto didn’t get any time to mentally prepare as the elevator made a swift halt. The doors opened, revealing a blue room with red curtains.

The class trial room was sparse for its size, inside the room was a circle of podiums and a throne.

Behind one of the podiums was a picture of Leon, his picture had an “X” on it.

“W-where are w-we s-supposed to go?” Toko asked.

Monokuma slowly made his way to the throne, “Each podium has a name on it, just find yours!”

Slowly everyone found their podiums and stood at them.

“Let's begin with a basic explanation of the class trial! So, your votes will determine the results. If you can figure out ‘whodunnit’ then only they will receive punishment. But if you pick the wrong one... then I'll punish everyone besides the blackened, and the one that deceived everyone else will graduate!”

“Didn’t you already tell us this?” Celeste asked.

“It’s just a basic refresher, kids these days don’t have a very good memory!”

“Before we begin,” Kyoko said, “I have a question.”

“Well, ask away!” Monokuma said.

“What’s going on with...that picture?” Kyoko asked.

“I'd feel awful if they got left out just because they died. Friendship penetrates even death's barrier!” Monokuma said, cheerfully.

“Friendship...penetrates?” Hifumi asked while sweating.

“Hm, but that doesn’t explain the other empty podium,” Celeste added. “There were only fifteen us, to begin with, yes? Why are there sixteen podiums?”

“Oh, our courtroom here can just fit sixteen people. There’s no specific reason.” Monokuma explained. ‘But enough about that! Let the class trial begin!”

“I assert that the one who was murdered was Mr. Leon Kuwata!” Kiyotaka yelled.

“Yeah, I think we all know that part already…” Yasuhiro added.

“And the murder took place in Makoto’s room,” Byakuya said.

“In the bathroom…” Aoi added.

“So it seems most likely that… the killer must have taken Leon by surprise while he was in the bathroom…” Chihiro began, “he didn’t even have a chance to resist.”

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto yelled. “Just a second, Chihiro. Try to remember how my room looked… With the way things were damaged, I think we can assume there was a struggle.”

“A struggle?” Chihiro asked, “Between who… and who?”

“Between Leon and the killer, probably,” Makoto said.

“So you’re saying that Leon wasn’t caught by surprise?”

“He must have been attacked in the main room, then fled to the bathroom to try and hide. The killer followed him, and the rest is how they say, history?” Celeste said.

“That much should have been obvious after taking one look at the scene, did this even need explaining?” Byakuya asked, impatient.

“S-sorry…” Chihiro said.

“Okay, so what’s next?” Yasuhiro asked.

“Next, is the subject of the murder weapon,” Sakura said.

“Wow! This is like the Ace Attorney games…” Hifumi mumbled to himself.

“So what was used to kill him...?” Sakura asked.

“There were several holes in his body in the chest region…” Kiyotaka said, “Without a doubt, a sharp object must’ve been thrust several times into his chest!”

“So the killer used some random knife they had on ‘em… How could anyone do something like that?” Mondo said.

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto yelled. “No, I don’t think it was just a random knife, I’m almost positive that the knife that killed Leon was a kitchen knife.”

“A kitchen knife?” Mondo asked.

“After the murder, I found out that one of the knives from the kitchen was missing,” Makoto explained.

“Which means that knife must be the murder weapon,” Sakura concluded.

“Oh…yeah, I guess that makes sense. The knife next to Leon’s body was covered in blood but if you looked real close, you can totally see that being a kitchen knife.” Mondo said.

“Okay, sure, the murder weapon was a kitchen knife. But where does that get us?” Sayaka asked. “We already know that Makoto killed him, right?”

“That’s r-right… Makoto’s room was the s-scene of the crime. What more proof c-could we n-need?” Toko added.

“H-hold on a second-” Makoto began to interject but was interrupted.

“Let’s draw our conclusion after we’ve presented all our arguments. Otherwise, what’s the point of the trial?” Kyoko asked.

“Well we can discuss it all we want,” Sayaka said, “but that will not change the series of events.”

“I don’t think that’s true, I’m sure if we keep at it, something new will reveal itself.”

“Do you really believe that?” Yasuhiro asked Kyoko, but she didn’t answer.

“So, I guess there’s no question that the kitchen knife was the murder weapon…” Sayaka began, “but where exactly does that get us?”

“M-Makoto must’ve taken it f-from the kitchen, right?” Toko added, “he did it in secret, when nobody was in the d-dining hall… and then he w-went and stabbed L-Leon with it!”

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto yelled, “Okay, wait, hold on. I didn’t take the knife from the kitchen.”

“Next you’re g-gonna say you’re not the k-killer, right? Go ahead and say it all y-you want…!” Toko said.

“Well, what if I have a witness? What do you think, Hina?” Makoto asked.

“...What?” Aoi asked.

“Remember what you told me earlier…?” Makoto asked.

“Oh yeah! I was in the dining hall during the time when the knife disappeared. Makoto didn’t enter at all during that time!” Aoi said.

“Do you remember who entered?” Makoto asked.

“Yeah, Sayaka entered and ignored me… and went straight for the kitchen.” Aoi said, “she was acting all weird and left a couple of minutes later…”

“A-acting all w-weird…?” Toko asked.

“I dunno how to explain it, she just seemed off, y’know?” Aoi said.

“W-well, h-how do we know you t-two aren’t just working t-together?!” Toko suddenly accused.

“Why would I get involved in something like that?!” Aoi asked, insulted.

“Speaking of which, I’d like to ask the bear...if there is an accomplice, does the accomplice also become the ‘blackened’?” Byakuya asked.

“Ask and you shall receive!” Monokuma said, “Each murder is allowed to have an accomplice, but only the one who commits the murder will be allowed to graduate.”

“So, in other words… two people can work together but the accomplice has no chance of profiting from it…” Kyoko said.

“Then there’s no reason for anyone to work together, right…?” Mondo asked.

“But what if they did work together? They wouldn’t know about the rule until now, right?” Chihiro asked.

“Ugh! Everyone shut up! There are no accomplices in this case… I mean! Did I just say that out loud?” Monokuma said.

“Anyways, I didn’t go to the dining hall, and I didn’t take the knife!” Makoto said, “So I’m not the killer!”

“Well, we know that Sayaka was in the kitchen… is there any chance she took the knife?” Chihiro asked.

“Why are we not suspecting Hina, she was also alone in the dining hall, no?” Celeste asked.

“N-no way! I can swear it wasn’t me!” Aoi said.

“Sure, but can anyone else prove that…?” Hifumi said.

“I can,” Sakura said.

“That’s right, Sakura was with me the whole time I was drinking my tea!” Aoi explained.

“But then… couldn’t either one of them just grabbed the knife?” Yasuhiro asked.

“Well…no, because um…” Aoi began.

“Just say it already!” Junko said.

“I stayed in Hina’s room last night,” Sakura explained.

“I got so scared from those creepy videos. I wasn’t really thinking so I just asked her to stay over.” Aoi said.

“You stayed over? Doesn’t that violate a school rule?” Junko asked.

“We’re not allowed to sleep anywhere but the dorms, but it doesn’t say anything about sleeping in someone else’s dorm,” Chihiro added.

“But it IS a problem! A boy and girl spending the night together!? That’s so-” Kiyotaka began.

“But... I’m a girl…” Sakura said.

“Wh--!? You are!? I’m so sorry!” Kiyotaka said.

“So, it seems the only other possibility is Sayaka, yes?” Celeste asked.

“Then… Sayaka is the one who took the knife?!” Makoto asked.

“Me? What’re you talking about?” Sayaka asked.

“You’re the only possibility. Hina and I noticed you were acting weird and since we have airtight alibis you’re the only other option.” Sakura explained.

“But, it was in Makoto’s room!” Sayaka yelled. “And I had no way of getting into Makoto’s room, remember!?”

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto yelled. “Sayaka, remember that we switched rooms last night…”

“W-what…? What are YOU talking about, Makoto?!” Sayaka yelled, once again. “I don’t remember switching rooms at all…!”

“You don’t, huh…” Kyoko said. “That’s funny because there is proof you were in Makoto’s room last night.”

“Huh…?” Sayaka asked. “What- what are you two talking about!? I wasn’t in Makoto’s room! You can’t prove it because I wasn’t THERE!”

“You’re all blind if you think I did it!” Sayaka began, “I’m completely innocent! There’s no way I would ever be in Makoto’s room!”

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto yelled, “My notepad can prove you were in my room!”

“Your… notepad…?” Sayaka mumbled.

“Kyoko and I discovered a message indented into the paper below, scribbling on it reveals a note to Leon asking him to meet in your room.”

“What…?” Sayaka asked.

“If you weren’t in my room, you’d have no access to my notepad, this proves you were at least in my room at one point.”

“Well! Jokes on you Makoto, I can’t write!” Sayaka said, “My wrist is broken, there’s no way I could’ve written that!”

“I think it would be very hard for Miss Maizono to write with a broken wrist!” Hifumi said.

“Since we know her wrist is broken, we can assume the note was forged, yes?” Celeste asked.

“The only reasonable explanation is that Makoto wrote the note!” Yasuhiro said.

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto yelled, “If you remember what the note said, it clearly stated that Leon was to visit ‘Sayaka’s’ room, not mine. If I was the murderer why would I lead Leon to Sayaka’s room and not mine?”

“Well… uh… you were in Sayaka’s room…?” Yasuhiro said.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Aoi responded, “Leon’s body was found in Makoto’s room!”

“Well, if the note wasn’t forged and Sayaka’s wrist was broken… how was the note created?”

“Are we so sure that Sayaka’s wrist was broken before the murder?” Kyoko asked.

“Huh?” Makoto asked, confused once again.

“Writing a note with a broken wrist is easy,” Kyoko said, “If your wrist isn’t broken at the time.”

“Huh?” Yasuhiro and Aoi said.

“I’m saying, we don’t know when Sayaka broke her wrist. So unless anyone witnessed her breaking her wrist, it’s safe to assume that it was broken at least during the murder.” Kyoko explained.

“So, you’re saying… that Sayaka broke her wrist sometime during the murder…?” Chihiro asked.

“That’s the only reasonable explanation,” Kyoko replied, “unless Sayaka can explain why her wrist is broken…”

“Well… uh…” Sayaka muttered.

“Sayaka, would you like to explain why your wrist is broken?” Celeste asked.

“Uh… well, I fell last night…” Sayaka began, “Most of my body weight was on my wrist! I’m sorry for keeping this a secret, I was just so ashamed!”

“Whether you were ashamed or not, are you forgetting our lives are on the line? Specifically my life?” Byakuya asked.

“I’m very sorry…!” Sayaka apologized.

“Well, I don’t see why she would be lying! The only outcome of this case is that Makoto did it!” Kiyotaka yelled.

“W-wait…!” Makoto yelled.

“Are you so sure, Kiyotaka?” Kyoko asked.

“Wh- Of course I am sure!” Kiyotaka replied

“Hm, well, there’s just a slight problem with Sayaka’s explanation…” Kyoko said, “Makoto, do you know what the problem is?”

“Huh…?” Makoto asked.

“Don’t you find it a little odd how she broke her wrist...?” Kyoko asked.

“Wait, there’s no possible way of her breaking just her wrist, right?” Makoto said.

“Of course there is!” Kiyotaka yelled, “She wouldn’t lie to us about her injury, we can all see it!”

“That might be true, but it’d be very hard for her to just fall on her wrist…” Makoto said.

“And, even if she did fall on her wrist,” Kyoko added, “where exactly did she fall from? There isn’t anything high enough that we can reach that would pose a danger for breaking any bones.”

“Well, if I didn’t break my wrist from falling, how do you suppose I broke it?” Sayaka asked.

“Like I said, I broke my wrist when I fell…” Sayaka said.

“T-there doesn’t seem to be any other a-alternative to that…” Toko muttered.

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto yelled, “Kyoko and I discovered something strange about Leon’s body. His hands were covered in gold powder.”

“W-what does that h-have to do w-with a-anything!?” Toko asked.

“Well, there’s only one thing in my room that could leave such a residue…” Makoto said, “The golden sword from the trophy room. It seems to be cheaply made as the gold paint comes off and sticks to your hands like a powder.”

“S-so!? W-what is that s-supposed to p-prove…?” Toko asked.

“Let’s assume that Leon fought against his attacker, if someone was wielding a knife, they’d probably do it with their dominant arm, correct?” Makoto asked.

“W-well, y-yeah…” Toko said.

“Leon’s talent was the Ultimate Baseball Star, right? So I’m assuming he’d have a powerful swing. And if he used the fake sword to knock the knife out of Sayaka’s hand, there’s a good chance he would’ve broken Sayaka’s wrist.” Makoto said.

“Huh…!?” Sayaka cried.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what happened now…” Makoto mumbled.

“Well then,” Byakuya said, “share it with the class, won’t you Makoto?”

“Before Sayaka came to my room after Monokuma’s nighttime announcement she grabbed a knife from the kitchen, when she came to my room she told me that someone was at her door and was frightening her. After convincing me to switch rooms with her she wrote the note to Leon. She left the note under his door and returned my notepad. She must’ve switched our nameplates since she was in my room at the time. After Leon came in to meet with her, she attacked him, but he must’ve fought back. Breaking her wrist, he fled into my bathroom, which would’ve been good if Sayaka didn’t know how to open it. After picking up the knife again, Sayaka went into the bathroom. Leon had no chance as she was fueled with adrenaline and rage. After stabbing him multiple times, her clothes would’ve been a mess, but she would have no way to change them since she was in my room. She decided to wear my clothes and wait until morning, once the morning announcement sounded she went for the laundry room to clean her clothing. After that, all she had to do was wait until Leon’s body was discovered.” Makoto explained.

“Hm! How interesting!” Monokuma said. “Well, I guess it’s voting time!”

“V-voting t-time…?” Toko asked.

“Mhm, pull the lever and vote for whoever you think committed the murder!”

After a few seconds, all votes were cast.

“Well, well, well…” Monokuma began, “It seems like the vote was right! The blackened this time around was none other than Sayaka Maizono!”

“No…” Sayaka cried, “No!”

“No…? But I have video evidence of you doing it, Sayaka!” Monokuma said.

“Makoto… you promised me that we would leave together!” Sayaka screamed.

“W-wha…” Makoto mumbled.

“You LIED to me, Makoto!” Sayaka said, “Liar, liar, liar…!” after saying this Sayaka fell onto the floor crying.

“Well, it doesn’t matter if he lied or not!” Monokuma said, “The result is still the same!”

“The… result…?” Makoto asked.

“You remember the rules, don’t you, Makoto?” Monokuma asked, “The blackened is to be executed if they are caught!”

Suddenly Sayaka was grabbed by chains grabbing her arms and legs, the chains started pulling back into an unknown room.

All of a sudden Sayaka was shown on a stage, there was a score meter near her apparently counting how well she sang. Sayaka was singing well, despite her tears only moments before. Makoto could hope that somehow she could survive this.

Then Monokuma appeared.

Monokuma grabs a big hammer from seemingly out of nowhere and hits the score meter. Instantly the stage underneath Sayaka snaps up, and she is no more.

Makoto couldn’t believe what he just witnessed, he had just sentenced Sayaka to her death.

He stared at where she just was, unable to say anything.

It seemed his peers were in the same position, up until now, it didn’t seem real. Like at any moment Leon would come waltzing in and everything would be okay.

But, now there were two students who were dead.

What were they going to do?

#naeishi #fanganronpa #makoto naegi #kiyotaka ishimaru #(only tag the popular ones i guess)#writeblr #fanfiction

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hunter-the-sad-skeleton · 4 years

Photo

“Award Ceremony: AKA; Old Director’s Revenge.”

Hunter smiled, sitting in the darkness by a table, under a lone spotlight-the only one she had ever been in in her life-and folded her hands in her lap patiently. “Come on, buddy! I’ve done a lot for ya, ya can spare one eensy weensy, tiny winy, miniscule timepiece, right?” Hunter asked, voice slowly slipping into insanity. Hatkid shook her head no.

“I need them to get home, Miss Burkes. If ya don’t mind, I need that timepiece now and I’ll be outta your-” Hatkid started.

“Oh? Truly? After everything I’ve done-Everything I’ve given you despite what LITTLE my section of this studio has to offer-you can’t part with one timepiece depsite already having-what, 15?! Sorry, buddy, But if ya want it back, I’ll have to be COLD AND LIFELESS ON THE FLOOR, CAUSE I SURE AS PECK AM NOT HANDING OVER THE ONE THING THAT COULD SALVAGE MY CAREER. JOEY, TIME FOR PLAN B!!!!!” Hunter snapped, eyes almost looking like kaleidoscopes.

“B-But you said that was in case of emer-” Joey started.

“PLAN B, NOW!!!!!!!” Hunter yelled.

“But-” Joey started.

“FINE!!!! I’LL DO IT MYSELF!!!! WHY ARE ALL CROWS SO PECKING USELESS?!?!?” Hunter snapped, shutting the lights off once again, eventually being replaced by a singular bright light alternating between blue and red.

“A-A-A-A b-b-b-bomb?!?” Hatkid yelped.

“RECOGNISE THIS LIL’ BOMB~? I, *HEHE* ‘BORROWED’ IT FROM THE CONDUCTOR’S SET~!! THIS TIME THOUGH, IT’S ATTACHED TO YOU INSTEAD OF HIS WORTHLESS TRAIN~!! IT’S GONNA BLOW IN A FEW MINUTES, SO YA BETTER HURRY AND EITHER USE ONE OF YOUR BELOVED TIMEPIECES TO REWIND BEFORE THE BOMB WAS WIRED AND AGREE TO LET ME KEEP THE TIMEPIECE OR FIND A WAY TO DEFUSE THE BOMB~!! YOUR CHOICE, ‘LASS’~!!!!” Hunter cackled.

The Conductor peeked out of one of the sides at the arena. “Hunter?!? What’s The Meaning Of This?!?” he snapped.

“CROWS, KEEP ‘EM AT BAY WHILE I HANDLE THE KID!!!!!” Hunter ordered, eyes still rippling with anger and emotion.

Grooves peeked out the other side of the arena, shocked at the events occuring before him. “Hunter, darlin’, I’m sure we can talk this out if ya would just calm dow-” Grooves started.

“SHOVE IT, TUNA BREATH!!!!!!!” Hunter snapped.

“LASS!!!! THAT IS NAE HOW WE-” The Conductor started.

“SHOVE IT, DI!!!!!!” Hunter yelled.

The Conductor’s heart stopped for a moment. “Conductor darlin’, get your head in the game! We need to help the little darlin’ out!!!” Grooves called.

“Aye, but how...?!?” The Conductor called back halfheartedly. Grooves tilted his head in concern.

“Darlin’, are you okay...?” Grooves called.

The Conductor shook his head. “Aye, ‘M fine. Yer on figuring out how to apprehend Hunter and I’ll find a defuser for the bomb.” The Conductor said.

(Timeskip a bit!)

Hunter hopped back onstage as Hatkid fell to one knee, catching her breath. “Awww, what’s wrong, ‘Darling’~? Ya can outrun a train set to explode, but ya can’t outrun a crow whose growth was stunted~? How sad can ya get~?” Hunter taunted.

“NOW, CONDUCTOR, DARLIN’!!!” Grooves ordered. Hunter yelped in surprise as The Conductor hopped over the side, rolling into the arena and over to Hatkid, defusing the bomb with ease.

“YOU LITTLE PECKNECK!!!” Hunter growled. As Hunter was about to run at The Conductor, two flippers grabbed under her arms, holding her back. “HEY!!! WHAT’S THE BIG IDEA?!?” Hunter snapped.

“Not this time, darlin’!!!” Grooves said, holding her back. Hunter flailed her legs around in an attempt to get lose, but it wasn’t working.

“Lass-” The Conductor started, but Hunter didn’t make any motion or anything to show she was listening. “Lass-” He started over, still the same result. “HUNTER PLATINUM BURKES, STOP YER SQUIRMING THIS INSTANT BEFORE I BREAK YER LEGS SO THAT YE DO!!!!!!” The Conductor yelled, voice echoing slightly. Hunter stopped at the voice raise, having heard him raise his voice before, but never to THAT level.

“Yes sir.” Hunter squeaked.

“Good. Cause I wouldae, had yer not stopped.” The Conductor snapped. He squatted down to her height, scowl clear as day on his face, despite the lack of eyes. “Now then; START. TALKING. NOW.” The Conductor growled.

“How much do I need to dumb it down?” Hunter scoffed, rolling her eyes. Hunter yelped as The Conductor grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to make eye contact despite not having eyes.

“LASS, DONNAE PUSH ME BUTTONS. THIS IS SERIOUS. YE ALMOST MURDERED A CHILD. THAT COULD GET YER IN LEGAL TROUBLE.” The Conductor growled.

“Like YOU TWO are any better.” Hunter scoffed.

“LASS-” The Conductor started.

“What does she mean?” Hatkid asked, confused.

“Oh, that’s right!! They never told ANYONE HOW I split UP FROM THEM!!” Hunter said, faking cheerfulness.

“Lass, that was years ago, we’ve apologized for it multiple ti-” The Conductor started.

“YOU GAVE NO WARNING, CONNIE!!!!!! AT LEAST GROOVES WAS GONNA PUT IT NICELY!!!!!! BUT NO, YA HAD TO BE A HUGE PECKNECK ABOUT IT AND NOT SOFTEN THE BLOW WHATSOEVER!!!!!” Hunter barked.

“What does she mean?” Hatkid asked, worried.

“Lass, it doesnae mat-” The Conductor started.

“They cast ya in REBOOTS, kid~!!” Hunter butted in.

Hatkid’s thoughts went spiraling. “What...?” Hatkid gasped. Hunter giggled, sounding more unhinged than joyful.

“Yes sir-ee~!!! I helped them out with the originals, but then I got my own studio, so I got kicked from them in fear of-what were your words again, Conductor~?” Hunter taunted. The Conductor’s gaze fell to the floor. “Oh yeah~!!!! ‘we donnae want yer to be stealin any of our story ideas lass, so yer getting removed from our projects’~!!!!!!!!” Hunter grinned maliciously.

“Darlin’, me and The Conductor here have grown past that-besides, the darlin’ there did as fine a job you did, maybe even better!” Grooves grinned.

“Ooooooh, so I wasn’t good enough?!” Hunter barked. Grooves frowned.

“Ya know that’s NOT what I meant, darlin’.” Grooves scolded.

“Oh really?” Hunter growled.

“Lass, that’s-” The Conductor started.

“I’m sure the only reason that your movies got such a high rating was because penguin representation is so low nowadays that penguins were happy to see themselves in the entertainment that they enjoy~!!” Hunter mocked.

“Lass-” The Conductor repeated.

“Peck, I bet that if ya didn’t take the ‘little darlin’ ‘s debt away, she wouldn’t have helped ya to begin with~!!” Hunter teased. Grooves frowned slightly.

“Lass-” The Conductor growled.

“I’m sure she only helped ya outta pity~!!!” Hunter sneered.

“LASS, THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH FROM YOU!!!!!!” The Conductor snapped. Hunter frowned.

“It’s the truth and ya know it, Con.” Hunter grumbled.

“What HAPPENED to ye, lass?! Ye used to be so kind, caring, upbeat-even yer colours were brighter...! What happened...?” The Conductor asked.

“What happened...? What HAPPENED? What HAPPENED?!?!? MAYBE WHAT HAPPENED WAS THAT AFTER TAKING CARE OF MY FAMILY SINCE I WAS SIX, I WAS LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO BE PROUD OF ME!!!!!! GROOVES WAS EASY TO PLEASE, BUT YOU-THE ONE PERSON I HAD THAT WAS CLOSE TO A FATHER FIGURE-I COULD NEVER MAKE YOU PROUD OF ME, NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRIED!!!!” Hunter barked. “I JUST wanted to amount to something, and I did, for a few months, but then ya went and ripped it away from me....! It DEMOLISHED my mental state, but therapy never helped. I always thought it was my fault-that I did something out of line-but soon enough, I realized that I wasn’t to blame, but it was you two. So I held a grudge...And that all was kept bottled up until...well, now...” Hunter explained.

“Ye...wanted me to be proud of ye...?” The Conductor gasped.

“Stupid, I know...” Hunter scowled.

“Wait, you never had parents?” Hatkid asked sadly.

“No, all I had were lumps of feathers that were poor excuses for parents. Like, yeah, they’d do stuff to keep me alive ‘n’ stuff, but only the bare minimum.” Hunter scoffed. Hunter chuckled darkly. “At least I kept the Hookshot I got from Train rush...!” Hunter chuckled sadly. The Conductor’s heart stopped.

“Lass, ye didn’t-” The Conductor started.

“I did....! It didn’t work though...Darn low ceilings...” Hunter chuffed. The Conductor nodded at Grooves and he put Hunter down gently.

“I trust ye not to do anything dumb.” The Conductor said, kneeling down to her height. “Donnae break that trust.” He warned. He pulled her into a hug, patting her on the back.

as The Conductor got up, Hunter got up, pulling out a knife. “CONDUCTOR, LOOK-” Grooves started before getting interrupted by an electric zap sound. Hunter dropped onto the floor, out cold.

“Sorry I had to do that, Lass. Sometimes, ye cannae reason yer way outta things.” The Conductor lamented.

“A zap disc...?” Hatkid asked.

“Leftover from one of me older movies; Eggtrocities up on spy tower. I kept ‘em in case I’d need ‘em in future. Wish I didnae have to use it on her, but some people just donnae wanna see reason.” The Conductor sighed.

“What’re we gonna do when she wakes up, Conductor, darlin’?” Grooves asked.

The Conductor took a deep breath. “Apologize.” He stated. “Apologize, and make it up to her.” The Conductor said.

“It’s....a little late for that, darlin’.” Grooves winced. The Conductor giggled and Hatkid smiled, recognizing it.

The Conductor pulled out a timepiece. “Is it now~? Lass, do ye mind if we~?” He asked.

“Nah! You’re all fun to be around! Besides, it’s for Hunter! She deserves better!” Hatkid beamed.

“Aye, that she does, Lass.” The Conductor smiled.

Hunter curled up into a ball, snoozing softly.

“That she does....” The Conductor smiled softly.

#Ahit The Conductor #Ahit DJ Grooves #Ahit Hatkid #AHIT OC #My Oc #Hunter Burkes #THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE #REBLOG OR DIE #I AM BEGGING Y'ALL TO REBLOG #I WROTE THIS IN ABOUT AN HOUR OR SO #I AM DEAD

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hellimagines · 5 years

Text

Fake Characters -- Patrick Hockstetter

*My masterlist link can be found in my blog description*

Request: "Patrick headcanons for him having a girlfriend who's really preppy and innocent until he finds out one night how demented she actually is and she's actually crazier than him and his heart Z O O M S" - @saea

Summary: Patrick gets assigned to a project with you, and slowly finds himself trying to pick you apart.

Warnings: explicit drug use (cocaine), light sexual themes, blood, violence, and lowkey murder

Pairing: Patrick Hockstetter x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,700+

A/N: I'm sorry this is so late, but honestly, are we surprised? Anyways, this isn't how I usually write things, it's a really long imagine rather than HC's, and it doesn't follow the request entirely (sorry lmao). Also, we don't do Consistent Tenses in This House and we're not gonna talk about the ending. Enjoy lmfao

Patrick Hockstetter didn't care much for you or your 'type'. He, as well as the rest of the Bowers Gang, had a tendency to steer clear of the preps and the populars: too much attention and too much hassle in the long run. He liked the girls (and the occasional boy) who were quiet, kept to themselves, and wouldn't be noticed if something were to... go wrong. So, when Patrick decided to randomly show up for his AP Lit class one day (a class he didn't belong in but was in anyway), he instantly regretted it. — Only a few seconds into class and the teacher had already set his demeaning eyes upon Patrick, an eyebrow arched in distaste. "So glad you decided to show, Mr. Hockstetter," he says, walking to stand in front of Patrick's desk. "Today's the beginning of our new read, and we'll be doing the project in pairs."

Patrick doesn't care at first, he figures he'll be stuck with one of the nerds in the front, trembling in their seats with sweat dripping from their forehead. He typically manages to scare them into doing the work for him if the project that's being assigned doesn't interest him.

"Mr. Hockstetter, you'll be working alongside Ms. (Y/L/N) for this project."

Patrick wants to slit the teacher's throat then and there. He knows he can't get away with threatening you to do all the work; you have too many friends and too many allies willing to make his life difficult if he fucks you over. It's only when you saunter up to him, slamming a copy of The Odyssey onto his desk (Patrick swears he chokes on the dust), does he really know he's fucked.

Despite your harsh actions, you're staring down at him with a gentle, yet anxious, gaze. "My parents are gonna be at a banquet tonight. So, we'll start on the project at my house, five o'clock. Don't be late, Hockstetter- I'm not doing this on my own," you sigh, nervously tugging at the bottom of your sweater (nervous of him or the thought of doing the project on your own, Patrick isn't sure).

"Yeah, whatever." Is all he offers you before he's snatching the book off his desk and leaving the classroom, the teacher shouting loudly behind him as he goes. — When Henry finds out Patrick is going to be spending the majority of the month in class and alongside you, he isn't happy about it. Before Patrick can even begin to justify his reasoning or explain that he'd still be around, the ash-blond git is tackling him to the ground. Patrick's unlit cigarette flies out of his hand as he's slammed to the asphalt, but he doesn't have time to grieve its loss. Henry instantly begins to pummel away at his back, trying to smash Patrick's face into the street beneath him, effectively tearing up the taller boy's face, arms, and upper body. Patrick lays there, complacent, for a few seconds, before violently jerking his body and throwing Henry off of him. Vic and Belch stand beside Amy, watching with worried eyes as the dominant teens fight out their frustrations. It takes a while, but soon enough their fists are bruised and their mouths are bloody, both of them kneeling over as they gasp for breath.

"I'll still be around you winy piece of shit. I've just gotta handle this crap."

"Fuck you." — Patrick shows up at your house at exactly 5 o'clock, blood staining his shirt, and a cigarette hanging from his busted lip. His face is destroyed, to say the least: covered in scratches, bruises, and dry blood. The rest of him doesn't look any better.

You squint at him, "Please don't get blood on my carpet." Before leading him to your room, refusing to ask any questions or offer any medical attention. He's not your problem.

Patrick is only slightly suspicious that you don't question his injuries or tell him to put out the cigarette, but he shrugs it off and obediently follows you to your room. Your house is large and sparkling clean- the kind of clean that makes it seem unlived in, and Patrick feels wrong calling it a 'home'. But once he gets to your room, he can only shake his head with a quiet chuckle at the sudden contrast- your room is clearly not like the rest of the house. Patrick shuts the door behind him and lets his backpack thud to the ground, before turning to find you unexpectedly holding out a dish to him. It's stained grey due to all the ash inside and is littered with used cigarette buds. Patrick raises an eyebrow but accepts it without question, slumping himself into your desk chair while you sit on your bed.

You instantly begin digging around in your backpack for the materials needed for the project, and Patrick takes the chance to look around and further judge your room. Crystal-white Christmas lights are hanging up, bordering your ceiling and illuminating the room in bright, unnatural light. You have pictures of your friends, family vacations, cheer meets, and other mindless things scattered along your walls. Posters of people Patrick doesn't recognize are pinned in random areas as if you didn't care where they were placed. Your bed is made and void of any debris (probably the only thing that resembles the rest of the house) but your floor is scattered with clothes, school books, pencils, and a water bottle here and there. Patrick isn't surprised to find your room has character, but he doesn't entirely believe it's your character being shown.

"How long are you planning on staying?" you ask, causing Patrick's eyes to zip back to you and away from his surroundings. You're staring at him with attentive (e/c) eyes, waiting for an answer as you tap your fingers against the books in your lap.

"Dunno. 'Til you kick me out 'suppose," he shrugs, leaning back into the chair with a bored expression. He'd forgotten all about his cigarette during his wonder-filled daze, so he takes a long drag after speaking- not missing the way your eyes linger on the filter caught between his lips.

Your voice is soft, "Won't your parents want you home?"

Patrick's smirking now, "Nah. Didn't come home for a few weeks once and they didn't blink an eye when I finally walked in the door lookin' like the personification of Hell."

"Where'd you go?"

"Sewers."

You seem to take the hint and drop the conversation, rolling your eyes at his bluntness while tossing your backpack to the side. "My parents won't be home until tomorrow. You can stay if you want."

"You askin' me to sleep with you, babe?" Patrick takes immense satisfaction in the way your cheeks flush and your eyebrows furrow, your mouth gaping for a retort.

The books in your lap nearly slide to the floor due to your sputtering. "No! I'm trying to be friendly!" you shout, incredulously.

Patrick shakes his head and flicks his cigarette against the ashtray. "Don't need a friend. I need to get this fucking project done so Henry gets off my damn ass." He takes another long drag after that, eyeing you over the orange glow of his cigarette as his fingers subconsciously run along a cut on his jaw.

Your eyes scan over his injuries once more, as something seems to click inside your head. "Just because Bowers doesn't care 'bout school doesn't mean you have to follow."

Patricks scoffs on his exhale, narrowing his eyes when you don't move away from the smoke. "Don't need a therapist either, babe." He's met with an eye roll, but you leave the conversation alone. Patricks likes the way you don't prod at things that he clearly doesn't want being picked at. You begin to explain the details of the project that Patrick had missed after he had left class, your voice free of scorn or annoyance. He doesn't know what your angle is yet, but he feels like you should be yelling at him by now. Instead, your voice is almost... understanding.

"Mr. Higgins said it's due March 14th. So... about six weeks. Plenty of time," you finish, handing him the paper with all the rules, materials, and extra crap for the project. Reading the book, analyzing it, putting together a poster (and stealing the materials), working out a presentation, plus all the in-class work wasn't gonna be as quick as he hoped. He had to work at the same pace as the class, which was something that made his jaw tense and his fingers squeeze the cigarette to the point it almost broke. Henry was gonna kick his ass. Again.

"I don't wanna waste six weeks on this crap. I can get it done in four- on my own," he growls, taking a quick puff of the cigarette before angrily putting it out (he didn't need it accidentally dropping on your carpet from his anger).

"That's not how projects work, Hockstetter," you sigh, voice annoyingly patient. "I can get it done that quick, too. But then we'd be bored the remaining three weeks. A handful of coked-out all-nighters isn't worth that. Besides, we have the work to do in class, and if we read ahead or any of that, it'll mess shit up."

Patrick practically perks up like a dog. "You use?"

Your breath hitches and your eyes widen. "What? No, what makes you say that?" You speak too quickly and once again, your hands are fumbling with your sweater. A nervous habit, Patrick notices.

"Firstly, babe, you're a terrible liar. I never said what you use. Secondly, people wouldn't say a 'coked-out all-nighter'. A simple 'all-nighter', or some caffeine related shit would've done the trick," he smirks, leaning forward to stare you down. He had known there was something about you the second you had opened the front door, and now he had you trapped, ready to find out everything. "It's just a saying, I didn't mean anything by it," you stumble, (e/c) eyes searching his murky ones in a panic.

Patrick shakes his head in false pitty. "Relax. I'm not gonna tell anyone," he scoffs, leaning back in your chair and kicking his boot-clad feet up onto your desk.

Your body slouches in relief and Patrick's smirk widens, watching as you busy yourself with handing him sheets of paper and a pen, trying to seem nonchalant. You weren't who you claimed to be, and Patrick was gonna figure out your real character. The universe was challenging him, and boy did he love a good challenge- especially a cute one. — As the week wore on, Patrick found himself spending more and more time at your house and beside you in class. You two were sometimes seen outside of class, but not often, silently agreeing to keep your two worlds separate. Patrick didn't want Henry baring down on you and being an ass, and you didn't want your clique scrutinizing and sticking their noses up at Patrick. Henry and the boys were getting bitchy about his absence, sure, but he had a job to do and he wasn't gonna let Bowers' profound jealousy fuck it up.

It was roughly a week and a half into the project when Patrick became tired of trying to manipulate and coax secrets out of you. You seemed immune to his words and his tricks, and after your last slip up you had become tight-lipped, refusing to see that satisfied smirk on Patrick's face again. So, becoming fed up with your soft words and nervous fiddling, he nabbed a hundred from his mom's wallet and had Belch drive him out to Augusta. He was going to get you to admit your imperfections no matter what it cost him (or his mom).

Your filthy rich parents are always gone because of work and socialite activities, leaving you home alone constantly, and to your own devices. Meaning, Patrick isn't suspicious anymore when you allow him to smoke inside your house or when you don't question his bloodied body being dragged through your doors. Today's no different.

After Patrick knocks on your front door, you lead him through your house, speaking nonsense to him about your day, despite Patrick's obvious disinterest (he's got other things on his mind). Once you've brought him to your room and he's shut the door, he can't hold back the wicked smirk from his face any longer. Patrick's quick to pull a cigarette from his pack and extend his arm, catching your attention, succeeding in shutting you up. He isn't stupid, he knows you smoke but have refrained from doing so around him (and others no doubt). But the way your eyes widen and a slight gasp leaves your mouth is priceless. It takes you a good 30 seconds of flicking your eyes back and forth, from him to the cig, before you're snatching it out of his hand with a shaky breath. You have it in your mouth without realizing what you've admitted to, but Patrick can tell you don't care as you furiously pat yourself down in search of a lighter.

"Here." Patrick snaps open a silver zippo, the flame flickering against the cigarette, as you instantly inhale, making sure it catches. Satisfied with himself, he kicks off his shoes and tosses his backpack on the bed before throwing himself beside it, getting comfortable. You stand in front of him, anxiously smoking, while looking anywhere but him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask after a few minutes, the cigarette beginning to dwindle down between your fingers.

"Why'd you try and hide it?" Patrick shoots back, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"If anybody found out I smoked, I'd be kicked off the team. Everyone else does it, yeah, and the fucking captain does it, but I got on the team because the other chick... got in an accident. I can't risk anything." Your voice is shaking again, and now Patrick has another fucking secret to discover.

"An accident?" he asks, fingers twitching at your words while his eyes roam over your tense body. "Yes." Your answer is short and your eyes are narrowed, lip curled in an unconscious snarl. Patrick grins wickedly but says nothing more as you hastily put out the cigarette and collapse beside him on the bed.

He can't help himself, "What other secrets you hidin' from me, babe?" he hums, tugging on a strand of your hair, making you whimper in shock.

"Nothing, Hockstetter. Let's just get this project done," you growl, shoving his hand away from your silky hair.

'Nothing my ass', Patrick thinks, although proud of your sudden hostility.

The two of you work without incident for the next few hours, Patrick waiting patiently for his time to strike. He's sure he resembles a viper or a panther or a wolf or some other threatening animal ready to pounce, but you don't look the least bit threatened. You simply refocus his attention every few minutes, scold him when he's being an ass, and make sure things are getting done. He's getting tired and beginning to think his moment is never going to come; but when you yawn around 9:30, Patrick practically shouts in victory.

"Tired, babe?" he says, voice surprisingly smooth for the way his eyes light up and his fingers twitch.

"Not your babe," you hum, refusing to answer his question.

"You always could be." You answer with another yawn, turning your head so he can't see you proving his point. "Let's pull an all-nighter, hm? Just this once," Patrick knows it won't be just this once, "and then you can get your well-deserved break from me. We can get a few days, possibly a week, worth of shit done tonight, and you'll be free to be with your friends again."

The way you look at him, your lip tucked between your teeth and your eyes so soft, Patrick knows he has you before you do.

"What makes you think I wanna get rid of you, Hockstetter?" Or maybe you have him.

Patrick doesn't let his shock show though, and only shakes his head with a chuckle. "C'mon, babe. I'm constantly trailing blood in here, messin' up your sheets and your homework, and keepin' ya from your friends and your pretty little cheer uniform. I know that short skirt misses you almost as much as I miss it," he purrs, running the back of his knuckle over your cheekbone.

Patrick doesn't care about any of that stuff (save the skirt), and he knows you don't either. He sees the way you roll your eyes when you get phone call after phone call from your friends, begging you to hang out. The way you clench your fists when you hang up the phone, before turning and smiling at him brightly. He sees the way your eyes linger on his fresh cuts and bruises, and how you purposefully run your fingers over his damaged knuckles when handing him something. Your eyes and touches filled with longing. He knows you haven't washed your sheets in the week and a half he's been over, messing them up to piss you off. He knows they smell (reak) of him: cigarette smoke, blood, stolen cologne, and chaos. He knows how your cheer uniform is tossed carelessly in your room, not minding if it gets dirty or ruined, whereas you have a hidden leather jacket hanging up in your closet, void of any injury and no doubt in pristine condition.

You haven't told Patrick any of these things, but he knows.

You don't flinch away from his knuckle as it's run along your cheekbone, instead, you sigh softly, causing Patrick to smirk in victory. There's a war going on inside your head, he can tell, but as long as he wins, he doesn't care what you're thinking.

Finally, you nod, "Yeah, alright. I'll go grab some snacks and coffee-"

"Won't need that, babe."

It takes you a minute to process his interruption and it's meaning, but he grins once it hits you. "Patrick, you didn't!" you cry, and he doesn't admit how the sound of his name being spat out of your mouth turns him on (even if he has to shift on the bed to hide his hard-on).

"Sure did."

He reaches into his backpack (the one he brings to school and now he's laughing at the horror on your face) and pulls out a tiny bag of cocaine stored inside a CD case. He fishes out a dollar bill and a credit card (that is definitely not his) from his pocket before plopping the items in front of you. You don't say anything for a few minutes, and Patrick doesn't push. But, he does begin emptying out the coke onto the case and using the card to cut it up. You watch him quietly, the horror fading slowly as the powder becomes thinner and a few lines are formed.

"Bills have germs," you finally speak, and Patrick almost scoffs, but stops himself in the name of money.

"That so, babe? You got a straw then?" he asks, knowing damn well you more-than-likely do. You wouldn't have said something if you didn't. He watches you get up and walk to your underwear drawer, where you dig around for a second before pulling out a ziplock bag. Inside he can see tiny bags of blow, straws, cards, and other crap he can't make out.

"You have a fucking cocaine kit?" His voice is full of judgment, but he's shifting his hips against the bed, his cock aching, knowing you're too busy pulling out two straws to notice. You don't answer him, but you do hold up a middle finger before you return to the bed. Patrick's already cut up four thick lines and is grinning wildly at you, impatiently flicking the card between his fingers.

He nods to the straws, "Better?" He's smirking now and all you do is roll your eyes while tying your hair up into a ponytail.

Before Patrick can blink or offer any more witty remarks, you're bending over the case and snorting all four fucking lines in one fucking go and Patrick nearly chokes on his own goddamn tongue and practically cums on the spot. Two of those rails were meant for him, and he's pretty sure he poured out a little less than a half onto that case, but fuck, he's not gonna scold you. You seem to know what the fuck you're doing, and he's not the babysitter type anyways. When you pull back, fingers covering your nostrils and inhaling deeply, Patrick can't keep the smile off his face and the hearts out of his eyes (but if anyone asks they weren't hearts bc that's just not how he rolls).

"You're fucking staring, Patrick," you grumble, voice weak and airy from holding your breath.

"Yeah, because that was fucking hot and not what I expected. Granted, you took my lines, but whatever," he mumbles, still staring up at you in awe.

You look down at him when he says that, eyes wide in shock. "Oh fuck, my bad."

"So many secrets," Patrick's snickers, before busying himself with pouring out and cutting up his own lines (exact same as yours because he'll be damned if he lets you one-up him in his own fucking game). You hand him his own straw, but Patrick simply grins before snatching the one you had just used out of your hand. You shout in protest, but it's too late, he's already bent over and snorting the case clean. Patrick lifts his head with a dopey grin, sniffing noisily as you glare at him. Both of you split the residue on the case, silently rubbing it against your gums before Patrick shifts himself to lean against your pillows. You follow suit, instinctively laying beside him with a satisfied hum. Patrick had managed to not only unlock two of your secrets, but he also got you to perform them, and the thought caused his fingers to jump at his side, his grin spreading. Plus, he had also found another secret in need of unlocking, just waiting to be heard and discovered.

"What're you so happy about?" you sigh, your words rushed and airy as you turn on your side to stare at him. Patrick copies your position, allowing his fingers to run over the side of your face once more.

"Finally cracking you open, (Y/N)."

"Sure, Patrick," you laugh, and Patrick's eyes flutter shut at the sound.

The next few hours are spent contently working on the project, with the frequent bump and line to push you guys forward. As Friday night begins to turn into Saturday morning, Patrick finds himself melting into your bed and no longer wanting to pick up The Odyssey or anything else for that matter. He can feel you curled up against his back, the book tucked into your arms as your eyes scan the words lazily; he's sure none of the information is registering with you and you'll have to re-read most of it in the morning, but you don't seem to care. The coke had been put away roughly two hours ago, nearly three, and Patrick was trying his best to disregard the comedown washing over him in waves.

"We should try and sleep," you finally declare, noticing the soft, warm light beginning to peak into your room from your curtains. It wasn't going to be easy to fall asleep, but it was a decent option with your current states.

Patrick only grunts, not wanting to have to walk home with his heart racing the way it is and his throat aching. His limbs feel like Jell-O and his eyes burn, but once you remove yourself from his side, he forces himself to sit up. As he begins to sluggishly slip on his shoes, your hand on his shoulder stops him, and he looks up to see you pouting.

"The fuck you poutin' for, babe?" he sighs, turning back to his shoes.

"Stay, Patrick. You've been up all night and you're dealing with a come-down. Besides, I don't wanna be alone."

Patrick is positive you don't care about being alone, but your pouty lips and tug on his shirt magically coax him back into your bed before he can realize it. He slithers under the covers with you beside him, tensing up when you bury yourself into his side. He wants to push you off, tell you to go fuck yourself and hug your pillow, but he doesn't. Instead, he drapes an arm over your body, loose and hanging, and lets his eyes slip shut, willing his heart to calm down and his body to sleep. — Patrick and you had managed to achieve a few days worth of work during that night, and Patrick kept up his end of the deal- he didn't bother you at school and never offered a glance your way. But, he could tell his absence was bothering you, and it made his smirk widen each time he caught you looking at him. Patrick didn't show up for class during those few days, purposefully leaving you hanging with the class work, and it only took two days for you to seek him out.

"Patrick!" you shout as he's about to clamber into the Trans Am and speed off to god knows where. Patrick and the boys turn, Henry beginning to stalk forward at the interruption. However, Patrick grabs ahold of his shoulder and yanks him back, waiting for you to continue. "We have more work to do for the project."

'No we don't,' he laughs to himself. Patrick smirks and flicks a dismissive hand at the boys, ignoring their shouts and insults as he walks to your side and throws an arm over your shoulder. "Miss me already?"

"Shut up." -- It's been three weeks and Patrick isn't any closer to figuring out the dubbed Cheer Secret. He gets you to smoke around him constantly, and the two of you go through a few grams when you can afford it, but you don't utter a peep about the chick who had the 'accident'. Sometimes you'll rant about your friends and your family to him, things Patrick doesn't necessarily care about, but he listens to you anyway in hopes of a slip-up. But, no matter how high or drunk you get, that secret stays hidden within you and Patrick is over it. You rile him up in ways nobody else has before, and he wants nothing more than to make you his, but he can't without figuring you out. So, he works out yet another plan, one he isn't sure is even going to work.

Patrick makes sure he gets into another major fight with Henry before going to your house that day. It's a pretty bad fight, one that leaves his lip split, a cut on his eyebrow, gashes on his forehead, cheekbone, and his jaw, and many more hidden injuries beneath his bloody clothes. He knocks on your door, leaning heavily against the doorframe and waits for you to answer. When you do, you're actually shocked at his state- he hasn't looked this bad in weeks, and you can't contain the gasp that falls from your lips.

"Won't get blood on the carpet," Patrick murmurs while stumbling into the house, mindlessly walking into the direction of your room. The fight was more severe than he had predicted, and fuck, was he hoping more than ever his plan would work. Even as blood seeps from his body and his head swims with lost thoughts, Patrick still needed to know your secret.

You follow him into your room and help lower him to your bed. "What happened this time?" you ask, gingerly lifting his shirt up to inspect further damage. Patrick doesn't stop you.

"Henry was bitchin'. Gave 'im a piece o' my mind, and he gave me his. Pretty sure I left 'im bleeding out by the fuckin' river," Patrick slurs, wincing when you press against a cut on his side. Blood drips out at the contact, and you're instantly swiping it away, frowning.

You look up at him, "You just... left him there?"

Patrick nods silently, laying back on the bed with a huff. "Not my problem if he fuckin' dies. He shouldn't have opened his damn mouth." Your grip on his arm tightens, and Patrick sighs quietly. At least you weren't running away. "You gonna rat me out, babe?" he sneers, but even he can tell his voice is void of any true malice.

You scoff, "No, Patrick. I'd be a hypocrite. I have no right to do that- besides, I'd miss you too much."

Patrick laughs before he's coughing and groaning in pain. "Hypocrite, huh? Whatcha hidin' now? Don't wanna die on a cliffhanger," he coughs, lifting himself onto his elbow to try and subdue the pain and look at you better.

"Don't worry about that right now." Is all you say and Patrick is groaning again because 'fuck, I was so fucking close'.

You begin to tug at his shirt, and Patrick complies with letting you take it off. It sticks uncomfortably to his skin, but you eventually manage to peel it away with only a few grunts and hisses of pain. Patrick allows you to spend the next hour tending to his wounds, trying to rethink his plan over and over again. You're gentle and careful with him when all Patrick wants is to uncover your dark and rough side- the side he knows is screaming to be let out. By the time you've finished, Patrick's torso is scattered with bandages, and his face has been thoroughly cleaned and disinfected.

"Don't let this happen again," you say to him while putting away all the supplies you had needed.

Patrick watches you quietly for a minute. "It will. That's how me and Bowers work, if he's still alive. If you've ever been in a fight, or even dealt with the life we do, you'd understand." You still at that, and Patrick smirks.

'There it is.'

"Don't... don't say I haven't lived that life," you whisper slowly, standing up and turning to stare him down.

"How can I not? I don't know a thing about you, babe," Patrick says, resting a hand against his side as he looks up at you.

"I'm on the cheer team, straight-A student, AP classes-"

"Shut the fuck up," Patrick interrupts, scoffing loudly. "I'm not talking about the fake shit, (Y/N). I'm talking about you. The real fucking you. The leather jacket in the closet, the longing for my bruised knuckles, refusing to rid your sheets of my smell, accepting my smokes and my blow- that's the real you. And she's amazing. She's the person I wanna sit in here with, not whoever is looking at me now. So drop the god damn act already." He wasn't supposed to rant and go on a tangent, but once he started he just couldn't stop.

You stare down at him, your (e/c) eyes slowly losing their softness. Something almost akin to relief replaces it, and you collapse next to him with a quiet laugh. "I don't know if I want to cry, scream, or hit you."

Patrick grins, "Why not all of it?"

"Nobody was supposed to find out... ever. All of it was supposed to stay a secret until I got out of this shitty town. I... god, I don't know how you've figured me out in three weeks but I applaud you," you hum, resting your head in your palms. Patrick lets the comfortable silence that follows wash over you for a short while, before growing impatient. "Tell me about the girl." It's not a question or a plea, but a demand. You look over at him, eyebrows furrowed before you sigh in defeat.

"I fucked up."

"We all do. Talk to me." Patrick doesn't like the gentleness of his tone, but he can't do anything about that now.

You take a minute before sitting up straight. "She was the weakest link. I needed on the fucking team for college, and she was my way in. It was the few days of tryouts, and it had come down to me and her, but I could tell they were favoring her. She just... fit right. And I couldn't have that. So... I did what I had to. Lured her to the quarry with the promise of a drug deal, before pushing her over. She died and everyone thought it was suicide. I was let on the team and the rest is history." Your voice didn't waver throughout the story, and at the end, you look up at Patrick with a simple shrug, showing no remorse.

Patrick looks into your eyes for a minute, taking in their apathy, before he strikes. He places his hand against your cheek and pushes you back against the bed, kissing you roughly. You cry out in shock, hands immediately shoving at his chest to push him away.

"I killed someone!" you shout in disbelief, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Patrick smirks, "I know."

Patrick dives back down and kisses you once more, maneuvering his injured body above yours. You whimper quietly in defeat and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to you. Patrick growls in satisfaction- you're everything he expected you to be, and he couldn't be prouder at having figured you out. Now that you were wrapped around him, literally and figuratively, Patrick wasn't letting you go any time soon.

All Writing Taglist: @teageowen @mads--world @alex--awesome--22 @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss

Bowers Gang Taglist: @kaitlinlexiexx @darth-stetter @admiralsixx @ssstutteringbbbill @scckzy

#patrick hockstetter #patrick hockstetter imagine #patrick hockstetter imagines #patrick hockstetter x reader #bowers gang #bowers gang imagine #bowers gang imagines #bowers gang x reader #drug tw

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