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aristrocrat · 2 years

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Upside Down Feelings II

Chapter Three: The Pollywog

summary: Y/N wakes up in the same bed as Steve and suddenly finds that he has deemed himself one of her best friends. And Y/N goes back to Eddie’s and things become realllll

word count: 3020

pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader ENDGAME, Eddie Munson x Reader

a/n: IF YOU WANT TO RANT TO COMMUNITY ABOUT THE TRAUMATIC EVENTS THE DUFFER BROTHERS HAVE BESTOWS UPON US, COME JOIN MY DISCORD SERVER!! (link at the bottom) also surpiseeee i felt like you guys deserved one last episode before my hiatus! see you july 11th!!

You felt yourself wake up gently to the sound of a beating heart with warmth radiating from around you. Without opening your eyes, you nuzzled further into the source of comfort, feeling at its arms wrapped tighter around you and it groaned sleepily.

It only occurred to you whose arms and groan they could’ve belonged to.

You snapped your eyes open to reveal Steve breathing peacefully under you with his limbs tangled up in yours. You sat up, quickly unraveling yourself from your previous intertwined position. He scrunched his nose as his arms searched for the missing pressure and warmth that you provided him.

You looked over at the time and sighed with relief, realizing you still had two hours before you had to be at school.

“Steve,” You whispered, shaking his shoulder.

“Mm, five more minutes,” He grumbled sleepily, reaching out for you and pulling you into his chest. “Mm’ comfy.”

“Steve, let go,” You hissed pushing yourself off of him. That woke him up. He sat up and looked around the room before looking down at his clothes. “You need to leave.”

“Oh, shit. We didn’t..” His eyes widened. “Did we?”

“Ew! No! I just let you sleep here until you were sober enough to drive yourself home,” You scoffed. “You need to leave. My mom’s going to wake up any minute.”

“Okay, was the ew really necessary?” He bit back, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before looking around at his surroundings. “So last night’s party wasn’t just some fucked up dream, huh?”

“I wish I could say it was,” You pursed your lips. “Look, I need to get ready early. I have to pack my tools and ride my bike up to the school to fix my car before school starts, so-“

“Oh, I can give you a ride,” He shook his head “Get ready. I’ll go home and do the same then I can come pick you up later.”

“What? No way. I’m not riding in the same car as Nancy,” You crossed your arms. “I’ll stick to my bike, thank you very much.”

“Oh, relax. I’m not taking her to school after her little bullshit speech last night,” He dismissed, crawling over you to get off of your bed. “S’cuse me.”

He lazily grabbed his costume from the night before, placing them on your bed before he peeled off the hoodie you’d let him borrow. You were grateful for his slothful motions, as it gave you a few seconds to gawk at his body. He was beautiful. His abs lightly adorned his lean torso and his arms flexed enough to show off the same type of definition. You quickly looked away before his head popped out of the top of the hoodie.

“Toss me my shirt, would ya?”

You did as told, keeping your gaze lowered, acting as if you hadn’t totally violated his privacy the moment before. He narrowed his eyes as he watched your face flush.

“Were you-“

“Y/N, you’ll never believe what I - AHH- OH MY GOD!” Dustin yelped, covering his eyes when he saw the half naked boy in your room. “WHAT THE HELL? I thought he was just sleeping here?!”

“No!” You ran up to him. “Dustin, no, no, no! It’s not what it looks like!”

“First Eddie and now Nancy’s BOYFRIEND?!”

“Hold on- Eddie?” Steve chuckled. “Like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”

“Hey, watch your damn mouth if you wanna keep those teeth, Harrington,” You snapped before looking back at your little brother. “No, not Nancy’s boyfriend. Just Eddie. Steve was just changing out of the clothes I let him sleep in. It’s not like that! I swear!”

“Okay, then spit swear on it,” Dustin said.

“Ew, I don’t wanna-“

“It’s the ultimate test of honesty, Y/N. Spit swear or I tell Mom!” He threatened.

“… You wouldn’t-“

“MO-“ Your hand slapped on his mouth, making a popping noise. “Mmm!”

“Jesus, fine!” You shushed, reluctantly spitting into your palm and watching him do the same. You gagged as soon as your hands connected. He finally relaxes a bit before looking over at Steve.

“I’m watching you, Harrington,” He warned, maintaining eye contact with the shirtless boy until he left the room. You sighed, following behind him to wash your hands in your shared bathroom before reentering your room.

“Well, that was chaotic,” Steve muttered, folding up the clothes you’d let him borrow onto your bed.

“Yeah, well, not all of us were fortunate enough to be only children,” You shrugged. “You really should go. If that was Dustin’s reaction, I’d hate to see how my mom’s. I’ll see you in an hour?”

“Hour and a half,” He corrected. You rolled your eyes. “What? Do you see my hair? This is going to need an hour in and of itself. I got a reputation to uphold.”

“Why am I even surprised at this point?” You scoffed, ignoring the fact that you actually kinda liked the way his messy hair fell into his eyes. You almost preferred him in this state. “Now get the hell out of here.”

“On it.”

———

“Harrington, right?” Billy grunted as Steve threw himself back as Billy played defense in their practice run of basketball. “I heard you’re dating the prettiest girl in school. That true? King Steve bagged Nancy Wheeler and has her hot, car-lovin’ friend whipped too, huh? Can’t have ‘em both, buddy. Which one you gonna let me have?”

“Hey, maybe you should just shut the fuck up and play the game,” Steve looked back for a moment before Billy took the opportunity to trip him and take the ball before scoring a point for his own team.

“Steve!” He heard an all too familiar voice call.

———

“Y/N!” Nancy shouted as you walked out of the school. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“Nancy, just walk away,” Jonathan said as he followed behind her.

“Yes, and I’m avoiding you,” You picked up your pace towards your car. “It’s called the silent treatment. Look it up.”

“Why are people telling me that you left with Steve last night? And that they saw his car at your house until this morning?” She jogged to catch up with you before grabbing your arm and yanking you back. It took everything inside of you not to knock her lights out. “Is there something I should know about?”

“First of all, let me go,” You hissed, pulling your arm out of her grasp. “Second of all, not that you even deserve an explanation with the way you’re acting, nothing happened. He dragged me out of the party to talk about what you accidentally let slip out. I could smell the alcohol on his breath so I let him crash at my place.”

“Oh, so now you’re accusing me of not loving him too?” She scoffed. “Typical. You two always gang up-“

“Do you?” You raised your brows, taking her aback at the question. “Love him, I mean. Hm? Because you might have him fooled, Nance, but I know you. I saw the way you looked at him and heard the way you talked about him in the beginning stages of your relationship and it’s not-“

“So what? You just went off and told him all this behind my back?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I fucking defended you,” You scoffed. “I told him that you were just drunk and didn’t mean any of it. I might still be mad at you, but I didn’t want to see your dumbass get dumped. He’s a good guy. Annoying and air-headed maybe, but good… Nance, you should’ve seen the way he was crying over you. He really does love you. He deserves a better breakup, one with an explanation. Or at least an apology-“

“Yeah, well, it’s a little late for that,” She muttered.

“No, it’s not!” You urged. “Why not just tell him that you love him so this can all be over-“

“Because I don’t know if I do!” She interrupted. “I don’t know.. Everything changed after Barb. Including my feelings for Steve.“

“Then tell him that, Nancy. Let him know it wasn’t his fault and you still love and respect him, you just can’t love him in the way he deserves to be loved or some bullshit like that!”

“Why are you so concerned about him anyway?” She crossed her arms.

“Because that annoying son of a bitch grew on me,” You grumbled. “And you both deserve better than the bullshit you’re putting each other through.”

She stayed silent for a moment, finally taking in your words before her face softened. The tone shifted in your own friendship after Barb’s death and The Big Argument of 1983. Though you still loved her, the respect you once held for this girl wavered. Outside of school, you spent most of your time these days with Robin, Eddie, or Jonathan. And every time you would be around Nancy, you and Jonathan were forced to watch her and Steve all but fuck in front of your very eyes. It just wasn’t what it once was.

“Look, Nance, I only have an hour to fix that Bronco, so I-“

“Why are you still so mad at me?” She asked genuinely.

“Because you’re being a shitty friend, Nance,” You blinked. “I don’t know. Maybe we deserve better too…”

You pursed your lips as her fell open before you shook your head and walked away, leaving her standing in shock as Jonathan comforted her.

———

“Hey,” Steve tossed his backpack on the ground before leaning against the locker beside yours. “You got time to talk?”

“Busy,” You muttered. He blinked in confusion.

“You don’t look very busy,” He frowned as you gathered your things from your locker.

“Too busy to care about whatever relationship blues you’re about to hit me with.”

“What? What happened to being friends?” He frowned.

“You broke up with the girl that made us friends by default,” You shrugged, grabbing the last of your books and placing it in your backpack.

“Oh?” He challenged. “I wasn’t aware that friends-by-default wipe tears and sleep in the same bed.”

“SHHH! Jesus, Harrington. Say it a little louder, I don’t think the deaf man in Europe quite caught what you said,” You snapped. “Don’t you have any other friends you could talk to?”

“Not really,” He pursed his lips. You gave him unconvinced look. “Not anyone who knows the whole story! Look, fifteen minutes. Just let me rant for fifteen minutes and then you can go back to fixing the Bronco.”

“I had to call a tow service,” You sighed. “That baby won’t be running for at least another three days. So I asked-“

“Oh, well, that’s perfect! I can just take you home,” He offered.

“I asked Eddie to take me home,” You finished before smirking. “Also, last time you offered to take me home, you told Tommy and Carol that we slept together-“

“Oh, give me a break! I made up for that, and you know it,” He scolded, poking your shoulder and making you laugh. “Fine, look. At least let me walk you out there. I just need five minutes of your time.”

“You have the eagerness of those door-to-door Bible salesmen,” You rolled your eyes as you shut your locker. “Tell you what; let’s meet up tomorrow and talk about it all. I’ll even help you come up with a plan to win her back, if that’s what you want. But right now, I really have to get going, okay?”

He groaned with exaggerated disappointment.

“Deal?” You giggled, sticking your hand out for him to shake. He looked down at it before sighing and shaking it halfheartedly.

“Fine,” He muttered. “Go.”

You smiled, letting go before making your way towards the exit, sending him a small wave before you broke through the doors to the parking lot. You weaved your way through the crowd of people and stampede of cars before you finally stumbled upon Eddie’s van.

“There’s my favorite girl!” He called from behind you as he approached from the school. You smiled, feeling a warm sensation arise in your chest with a tickle in your stomach. Then he reached right past you, placing a small kiss on the van before looking over at your with a smirk. “And hello to you, too.”

“Asshole,” You laughed as you turned around to walk towards the passenger’s seat. He grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him. Eddie bit his lip lightly, eyeing you with adoration before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m kidding,” He said in a sing song tone, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head and pulling away to walk you to your side of the van. He paused before opening your door, shooting you a sincere smile. “M’lady.”

“Thank you, sir,” You grinned before he shut the door and jogged over to the driver’s side. You turned to him with a smile. “So I stole Dustin’s Return of the Jedi VHS. Wanna watch it and pig out on snacks?”

“You little minx,” He smirked. “You know just the way into my heart.”

———

“That’s the most iconic line in movie history!” You argued, moving some things aside so that you could hop on the counter and watch him make his sandwich. “Only Han Solo would respond with I know after someone confessed their love. I would probably do the same.”

“You would tell someone I know after they profess their love to you?” He chuckled, glancing up for a moment before returning his gaze to spreading the mayonnaise on the bread. “That’s just cruel!”

“Wh- Not really though,” You shrugged. He gave you an unconvinced look, scrunched nose and all. This boy gave you such cuteness aggression. “Hear me out, I am unable to fall in love. But I’m not, like, a complete bitch about it! I politely let my boyfriends and lovers know that I’m incapable of falling in love. How they wish to proceed is up to them.”

“Boyfriends and lovers? Plural?” He teased. “Jesus, Y/N. How many of us are there?”

“Just you,” You laughed. “I was referring to past boyfriends and lovers.”

“Oh? Just me?” His eyebrows shot up as he set down the sandwich-making gear to give you his full attention. He bit his lip to refrain from grinning like a love-struck idiot before he stepped in front of you, placing his palms on the counter. You were now completely imprisoned by his arms. “So what does that make me? Just a lover or a boyfriend?”

“Hm,” You played innocent, reaching out to play with the hem of his shirt. “Well, we do spend a lot of time together.”

“Mhm,” He hummed, dragging it out as he deeply looked into your eyes.

“And we spend most of that time acting like a couple anyway,” Your fingers finally made contact with the warm skin on his hips.

“That we do,” He agreed, nodding slowly.

Your cold hands made their way up his back with a ghost-like touch. One that made the hair on his arms stand upright as chills erupted through every nerve in his body.

“What do you wanna be?” You asked softly as he close gravitated closer to you.

He’s been dying to have this conversation with you. Eddie has been fond of you since you were children playing with tin foil swords around the trailer park. He loved that you never judged him. He loved that you matched his energy. And he loved that you always found comfort in him. It wasn’t until high school that he officially caught feelings for you, however. He was two years your senior, so he never even considered the possibility of liking you until you showed up with that lovable brother of yours to a D&D tournament.

He was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He found every excuse to keep you around after the tournaments. Hell, he even started hosting D&D tournaments for your brother and his friends just for the opportunity to be near you. He liked the way you blushed when he complimented you or touched you. He loved talking to you; sometimes he would just sit silently and admire the way you spoke about things that you were passionate about. And he absolutely adored kissing you; it was as thrilling and electric as playing guitar to a crowd full of people. So what if you couldn’t admit to yourself that you were able to fall in love? At least he’d get the perks of everything else.

“Yours” He breathed without hesitation, as if every fiber in his being was exhausted from holding back his explosive excitement. His lips were now only mere centimeters away from your own.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” You smiled, making him chuckle before he pulled you in by your hips. He finally pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

God, you were more addictive than those smelly Marlboros he liked to smoke when you weren’t around. Every kiss was like he was getting his fix, but every other moment that your lips weren’t on his, it was all he could think about. He knew you felt it too.

And you did. You were willing to break your no dating rule for this boy. You were willing to put yourself in a position that could potentially lead to heartbreak. But you didn’t care, you needed your fix, too. And this way, you didn’t need to worry about any other girls asking for those sacred kisses. This way, they were reserved just for the two of you.

“Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?” He asked between kisses.

“Mhm,” You hummed happily. “And I can call you my boyfriend.”

“Jesus, if you keep saying that, I’ll cum before I even get to the bed,” He joked with a big smile. You both broke away to laugh. “What time do I need to get you home?”

“My mom thinks I’m staying at Nancy’s,” You smiled.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

CHAPTER 4 & 5 ->

———

PLEASE CHECK IN EVERY MONDAY, WEDNESDAY, AND FRIDAY AT 9:00 PM CTD FOR NEW CHAPTERS! (taglist is now closed)

As always, please feel free to DM me or comment on my stories! I love to hear your feedback and interact with all of you!! Don’t forget to like and reblog, it really helps me out!

a/n: i had originally planned for the reader to have a casual fling with Eddie, but we all know he is so the type to fall for a fuck buddy. don’t worry, darlings. this is still a Steve fic, but this is important for the plot of their love story. also i fucking love and miss Eddie and this is helping me cope. SPEAKING OF COPING…

come join Scoops Ahoy Coworkers Discord server -> we offer group support for the traumatic events that unfolded in this last episode of season 4 and we like to simply talk about the series and other random things. let’s simp, cry, and scream together <3

@werewolfbanshee-love @reallysparklychaos @katsukiswrld @yashirawr @grfields s @001andeddiearetodiefor @thatmarvelchick19 @fixtionlover @idkwhyimhere013 @b3rrysoda @tpwkhollandd @dawnyboy @rexorangecouny @kimmchijjajang @efvyqrs @lou-la-lou @nycbaby21 @satsuri3su @agustdeeyaa @boisteroussquirrel @fangeekkk @persephonesnebula @starstruckspring @bbyharlow @edithsvoice @harrycanyonmoonn @sharkswithsocks @xm00nl1ght @okei888 @lqveharrington n @earthtostory @boobabietch @captainmarvelindisguise @astrumark @scoopsr0bin @hannahdoesstuff @homeofthepeculiar @potatoflavoured @binxy @ultrunning @azgucci @blogginjh @burdenedbliss @chervbs @lentil-s0up @ameliabs-world @mess-is-my-aesthetic @hopefulgardenerfun @mitchloveswriting

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #robin buckley #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagines #stranger things fic #stranger things

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delicrieux · 4 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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machine-gun-casie · 4 years

Text

tavern music

synopsis: corpse hears tavern music coming from your room (gn!reader)

warnings: rpf, reader gets cheated on, kind of unrequited feelings, mostly hurt/comfort and physical affection tho (what im trying to say is that this is mostly self indulgent)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: havent written in a while but i found this in my arsenal, fixed it up a bit and viola. original plans for this was definitely something longer that would end with them being together but im not up for writing rn. been feeling really shitty lately and ive been needing something like this in my life. hope u guys like it ♡

He couldn’t hear it at first. His headset was on and everyone was being so loud on the discord call. When he started the stream, he really thought it was gonna be a long one. But he’s only two hours in and he’s ready to get the hell off because something was definitely wrong.

“Corpse?” His name being spoken finally broke him out of his trance, he only hummed in response. “You’ve been really quiet. Are you sure you’re up for another game?”

“Actually,” he starts as he closes a few tabs, “I think I’ve gotta go. Today was fun, though. Thanks for having me guys.”

After a chorus of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s, Corpse disconnected from the discord call. “Thank you guys for being here,” he addressed the chat, “sorry I’m ending so early today. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Take care of yourselves. Later.”

After hanging up his headset and getting out of the chair he’s been sitting in for far too long, Corpse made the short trek to your room.

You had only been roommates for less than four months, but Corpse could confidently say that you have become one of his closest friends. Getting a roommate was the last resort that he never wanted to actually resort to. But alas, medical bills were piling up and youtube and music don’t make half as much money as people think they do. So cutting rent in half was the best plan he could come up with. He did have an extra guest room that no one ever stayed in. Of course having someone move into his personal space was terrifying to him. He didn’t just want to post an ad on craigslist or something. So he asked a couple trusted friends to ask a couple trusted friends… And that’s when you came in.

You were the trusted friend of a trusted friend of a trusted friend. When you met, you didn’t make a comment about his voice. Your face sure as hell showed your surprise but you didn’t say anything. To Corpse, this meant one of two things. You either knew who he was but didn’t want to freak him out, or you didn’t know about his online persona and were just genuinely shocked by his voice. It only took a few minutes of knowing you to know that it was the latter. Thank god. You were like anyone your age with social media. You had a few accounts, followed a few people, but mostly used it to stay in contact with friends.

It only took you guys a week to realize you had way too much in common. After many a late night when he wasn’t streaming, and many an early morning when he was just done streaming, you two became inseparable. Nothing could keep you apart.

Except for one thing.

You had a boyfriend.

There was nothing wrong with your boyfriend, per se. Just the fact that he was your boyfriend and Corpse was not.

Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you.

But right now, feelings didn’t matter when he could hear tavern music coming from your room.

He knocked lightly and pushed the door open slowly. “y/n? Can I come in?”

No response came, just sniffles and sobs. The lack of refusal on your part gave him the courage he needed to open the door wider and step into your room. He had only been in your room a couple of times since you had moved in. But he had never been in a room that gave off the feeling of a person so well.

You were curled up on your bed, facing your open laptop screen and the tavern music coming from its speakers. With every sob shaking your chest, Corpse felt his heart break. “y/n,” he murmured softly, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not working.” Came your reply, heavy with tears. “You said it would make you feel like you're going on an adventure but I still feel like crap.”

“What happened?” Corpse asked as he sat down on your bed, facing you. You slowly sat up and crossed your legs at your ankles in front of you.

“He-” You sighed heavily. “He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“He cheated on me -has been cheating on me- with my best friend. My little brother found out.” You groaned and dramatically dropped your head onto Corpse’s thigh. His hand immediately came in contact with your cheek as he brushed a few stray tears away.

There was rarely any physical contact between you and Corpse. Sometimes you’d give him a high five, sometimes he’d give you fist bump. And there was that one time you came up behind him at the grocery store and hugged his arm to your chest. You immediately whispered something along the lines of ‘creep won’t leave me alone’ followed by a loud ‘hey babe!’

Corpse could barely admit to himself how much he liked that.

But this? This felt good. Corpse’s large warm hand on your face somehow made you want to cry more but in a good way. The tenderness with which he held your face made your heart squeeze as it remembered moments like this with your boyf- ex boyfriend. But then it remembered your brother’s words.

“Hey, what’s up?” You spoke as you answered his call. Your brother wasn’t much of a caller, so it made you worry.

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“I’m home, why?”

“y/n… There’s something I gotta tell you.” He sighed and you could clearly hear the guilt.

“Did you break my DS!” It was your first thought as you had given it to him the last time you had seen him. “Dude! I’ve had that since I was seven!”

“No no, I called about something else.” He cut you off mid-whine. “But also I did lose the pen.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration but stayed silent so he could tell you what he wanted to tell you. “I saw your boyfriend at the park today.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?” How did this warrant a phone call?

“He was with Bob.”

When you had met your best friend, your brother was only a toddler. He had decided that her name was Bob, so it stuck. You always called her Bob, she was saved as Bob in your phone, your whole family called her Bob. But you still didn't understand. Why was he calling you to tell you that your boyfriend and your best friend were at the park?

“Why are you calling me about this? You know that they’re friends, right?” You let out a chuckle, albeit still pretty confused. “They’re allowed to hang out without me.”

“They weren’t hanging out.” You could hear your brother push out a strained sigh. What wasn’t he telling you? “They were making out on the swing set. As in, both of them on one swing. And I double checked, it was definitely them. I-I told mom and she said not to tell you, but I couldn’t not tell you when I’m the one who saw it!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

There was no lying to yourself, you had doubts about your best friend and your boyfriend. But you constantly brushed it off. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Hell, she couldn’t hurt like that. Not after everything you had been through together.

But you had seen his call log by accident one time, he called her more than he did you. She face-timed him one time to ask his opinion about a dress she was going to buy while you were in the changing room. She had done a handful of things since your relationship with your boyfriend started that made you uneasy. If this was their first kiss, which was something you doubted, then they’ve both been emotionally attached to the other for far too long.

All those tender intimate moments, all those dates, throughout everything, he wasn’t faithful. Not emotionally, at least. None of those moments that you cherished meant anything to you anymore. He had played you. With none other than your best friend since middle school. You didn’t know who to be more mad at.

The thoughts of betrayal from someone who you considered a sister and the hurt of being cheated on made you nauseated.

So when the large warm hand on your face stroked your cheek again, you didn’t mind it. This was Corpse. Not your cheating boyfriend. Not your lying best friend. Corpse. And you knew that he would never hurt you.

“He’s been cheating on me for a while I think.” You mumbled against his sweatpants. “Maybe a couple months. I don’t know.”

Corpse furrowed his brows in thought. You had told him you were going to visit your boyfriend for your one year anniversary next week. “Weren’t you go-”

“Yeah.”

“And Bob’s been your friend since-”

“Yeah.” Your chin wobbled as you answered. You brought your arms up around Corpse’s thigh and hugged it. It was a strange position, but you didn’t care. He was so warm and nice and hugging him properly required more movement on your end than you were willing to do.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Corpse sighed and reached out to untangle your arms from his leg. He gently pulled you across the few inches of bed between you and sat you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, immediately sobbing into his shoulder. “Do you want me to turn off the music?” You shook your head no against him and he chuckled before he solemnly sighed. “When did you find out?”

“When I came home.”

“But you came home hours ago. Have you been in here this whole time?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were streaming, didn’t wanna interrupt.” You shrugged.

“y/n,” he sighed disappointedly, “you’re my best friend. I can end a stream if you need me.”

“Okay.” Your voice, broken and weak and tired, made him feel so guilty. You had been crying your heart out for over two hours just down the hall from where he was.

He gently grabbed you by your hips and tried to push you away, but you only held on tighter and whimpered. “I just wanna get you some water.”

“I don’t want water.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.”

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

So he stayed.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpsehusband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fluff #corpse fanfiction #corpse fanfic #corpse fluff #gender neutral reader

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mssjynx · 3 years

Text

Mic: ON

dreamnap oneshot 3687 words warnings: steamy!! ao3 link

“Sapnap. Don’t send it.”

Dream’s warning voice held a lot more threat than usual coming through Nick’s headset, and he suspected it was because the two now shared a house. He was all too aware of his friend’s presence only two doors down, and had it just been the two of them, Nick probably would have already given in and saved himself an ass kicking. Dream was a noticeable few inches taller than him, and definitely stronger though Nick would never admit it outloud.

Nick was good at picking his fights.

Or he was, usually.

But with Dream in one ear, and Quackity, George and Karl in the other, he was tiptoeing the line of a very pissed off Dream. The three idiots had been egging him on for the past half hour, begging him to send the video since the moment he’d mentioned having it. And he wasn’t actually going to send it, he just really enjoyed stirring Dream up and he knew the other three found it just as funny.

“Sapnap! Sapnap! Sapnap!” Karl’s chanting overlapped the other two voices, Alex making odd monkey sounds as George laughed himself into hysterics.

“Send it, Sap! You have to show us, you have to.” George’s words were gasped out between wheezes in his comically high-pitched voice that appeared whenever he was losing his mind laughing at something.

Nick knew that if any of them laid their eyes on the video, they would never ever get over it.

He’d captured the valuable video the night prior when Dream had overslept an alarm that he’d set for a recording session with the Among Us crowd. When Nick had crept in there to wake him up, a task he dreaded after the first time he’d done it and successfully pissed Dream off for two full days, he had been met with a sight he never thought he’d see. It was too good to resist flicking out his phone and capturing the moment.

Dream had been splayed out across the bed, three pillows tucked under his back and his head tipped back off the mattress entirely. A trail of dried drool stained his cheek and his slack mouth was releasing a mix of whistling snores and little snuffling sounds as he slept. His fourth pillow was clutched to his chest in a grip that made Nick feel bad for it, white knuckles making Nick gulp as he crept back out of the room and returned to his Discord call to pass on the disappointing news.

He had intended to keep the video to himself, locked away in his phone for a later day of humiliation. He hadn’t intended that later day to be the day following but he made the mistake of mentioning the beautiful video and it had all gone downhill from there.

Karl, George and Alex were relentless when they wanted something, and to say they wanted to see this video was a huge understatement.

“We need to see it, Sapnap, it’s worth the risk! It’s worth it!” Alex pleaded.

“The risk!?” Nick snorted, offended by the lack of care. “I’m gonna get my teeth kicked in, Quackity! The risk is my impending death.”

“It’s worth it, it’s worth it!”

“Vouch!”

Karl and Alex were a terrible influence on each other.

“Guys, Dream’s scawy,” Sapnap said, hoping his baby “uwu” voice would soften Dream’s heart. He knew that whether he sent it or not, Dream was going to kill him for taking it in the first place.

“You haven’t seen ‘scary’,” Dream muttered and Nick shot a weary glance to the door of his office. There wasn’t even a lock.

George whined, adding his own baby voice to the mix, and Sapnap could practically see the stupid pout he was wearing when he begged, “Please, Sap. He won’t actually kill you!”

Dream’s scoff was dry and humourless, “Oh, I will,” and Nick could hear the exhaustion that layered his irritation. He’d been up for over twenty hours editing his upcoming video and keeping the guys company in their streams. He knew that Dream was ready to collapse into bed the second he could, but the risk of his pride held enough weight to keep him upright for the time being.

Nick almost felt bad for him, except he remembered the horrific photo that Dream had shared with their chat less than a month earlier.

This was only payback; well, it would be if Nick was actually going to send it. But he was better than that, he was the bigger man and he also valued having all of his teeth and an unbroken nose.

With a sigh, he reached to click delete on the keyboard to remove the video from the textbox. The ominous ‘Sapnap is typing…’ that sat at the bottom of all of their screens had only added to the excitement (and anger), but he knew that they’d had their fun and it was over. When he tried to snatch up his water bottle at the same time, his device unbalanced in his fingers and the thunk of it hitting the carpet was accompanied by the little “shwoop” sound of a message sending.

Every voice except Dream’s exploded in the call and Nick froze in his chair.

“Oh god,” he whispered, dropping his bottle and scrambling for his phone. “Oh, no, no, no- I didn’t- It was an accident, I dropped my-” His voice was drowned out by Karl and Alex’s cheering, hysterical laughter pouring from George’s end. Dream’s icon vanished from the call and the slam of a door opening reached Nick’s ears.

Dream’s footsteps were loud and angry.

“Guys, guys, GUYS!” His bedroom door burst open and Nick threw off his headphones, ripping the cord from his PC as he stumbled out of his chair. The look on Dream’s face made Nick genuinely fear for his life as he backed up away from Dream.

“Oh my God, he’s so cuuuute!” Karl cooed. George howled with laughter.

Nick had messed up. He had royally screwed himself, and today was the day he was going to die. “Dream, Clay. It was an accident, I was going to delete it and I dropped my phone and- I wasn’t actually going to send it, I swear. I promise. Pinky promise? What if we hug and make up?” Words tumbled off his tongue with panicked desperation but Nick knew a losing fight when he saw it. “Dream?” he tried weakly when Dream stepped forward, but the stoic glare didn’t shift.

He could hear Alex calling Dream’s name, futile attempts at rescuing Nick from certain death. But the laughter that drowned him out only sealed his fate.

He was completely and totally done.

Dream lunged for him and an embarrassingly high-pitched scream ripped from Nick’s throat. He bolted to the bed, clambering over the mattress with his eyes on the open door. But his chances were shot when a rough hand grabbed his ankle, yanking him backwards and off balance. His face slammed into the mattress, cutting off his yelp, and he barely managed to squirm over onto his back before Dream pounced.

“You’re done, Nick,” Dream snarled, and Nick knew that it was his turn to be mortified. He caught Dream by the upper arms, straining as he kept Dream’s hands just inches away from his own shoulders and face. “You’re such an asshole, I told you not to send it!”

“I told you,” Nick gasped, his arms aching as he turned his face away from Dream’s clawing fingers, “I didn’t mean to!”

Dream growled, glaring down at Nick for a second before spitting: “Liar.” and throwing his weight to the side. Nick lost his grip and within seconds Dream had hooked an arm around his back, pinning Nick’s head between his arm and his ribs. The wrestling training Sapnap did back in middle school leapt to the front of his mind as he got his arms around Dream’s middle and tried to push him back. They both grunted and yelped, jabbing fingers into sensitive spots and cursing as they wrestled and fought.

From the computer, the other three were cheering them on, placing bets back and forth. Except they were all betting on Dream and Nick couldn’t even blame them as he scrambled on top of Dream’s back for half a second before he was thrown off.

A jab to his stomach knocked all the air out of him and in seconds he was flat on his back with his arms pinned either side of his head. He gasped for air, face hot and red from exertion as he blinked his dizzy eyes up at Dream.

He made a weak attempt at getting one leg between him and Dream, hoping to plant a foot to his chest and shove him back, but Dream shoved his knee down into the muscle of Nick’s thigh and a shot of pain at the pressure cut his escape attempt off.

The grin on his face made Nick’s head spin faster, though he didn’t know whether it was fear or adrenaline that flipped his stomach like a pancake.

“Dead,” Clay declared, proud and smug as if it was at all a fair fight. He was six foot two for Heaven’s sake.

“Shut up, you’re such a dick,” Nick spat, craning his head off the mattress. The grip on his wrists tightened and Dream pressed them harder into the mattress, leaning his weight into his knee. Nick yelped in pain, wriggling in a weak attempt of dislodging his roommate.

Dream scoffed. “Shouldn’t have sent the video, should you?” His sneer was twisted with a satisfied grin and Nick would have been relieved to see that he was more smug than angry if that smile didn’t trigger every fear sensor in Nick’s body.

“Well, look- Ow- You got me now, so… you don’t have to, uh, kill me or anything! Wouldn’t want you to go to prison now,” he says, awkward chuckle leaving his lips. He hears Karl and George lose it from the computer speakers, quiet but distinct enough to heighten Nick’s irritation. They weren’t helping him at all.

“No chance.” Dream narrowed his eyes. “I want some sort of compensation. You have to let me post whatever I want from your twitter,” and the crooked grin he wore told Nick that his revenge would be far worse than the five second video of Dream snoring.

“No way,” he said, shaking his head and yanking on his arms. The taller man leaned his weight onto his wrists and Nick gave up on fighting. “Get off me, Dream.”

They both ignored the three amigos cheering in the background, this time for Nick’s demise.

Two-faced assholes...

“What’s your password, Nick,” Dream asked, cocking his head to the side with his sly grin. He was, humiliatingly, completely at Dream’s mercy and his stomach twisted at the thought.

It was definitely the first time that they’d been so close to each other; Nick had never been able to see this much detail in Dream’s face. For a moment, he got distracted by the little scar that marred the right side of Clay’s top lip, wondering when and how he’d gotten it. When his lips twitched down into a confused frown, Nick snapped back into the moment with the realisation that he’d been staring at Dream’s mouth.

He snapped his focus back up to Dream’s eyes, unable to miss the way his brows were creased with thought, and pushed a defensive snarl onto his own mouth as he glared up at Dream. “It’s not happening,” he said bluntly, hoping the embarrassed red of his cheeks could be passed off from their wrestling.

Dream’s frown deepened with annoyance. “What’s your password, Nick?” he repeated, pressing his thumb hard into the inside of Nick’s wrist. He watched Nick’s face with an intensity that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago, murky green eyes flickering over Nick’s features as searching for something specific.

“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”

“George, you dick!”

“He’s from Florida, man! He’ll do it!”

The pressure on Nick’s inner wrist made him grimace and when Nick forced out a rough: “No, Clay,” he squeezed the other wrist harder, pinching the skin. The jolt of pain mixed with the tingle in his fingertips; Nick sucked in a deep breath and bit down hard on his bottom lip as he desperately tried to think of a way out of this situation.

His train of thought was slammed to a stop when Dream’s eyes snapped down to Nick’s mouth like a magnet, time screeching to a neck-breaking halt. For a moment, neither of them moved. Dream’s grip loosened on Nick’s wrist but he didn’t even consider moving away, unable to focus on anything other than Dream’s gaze locked on his mouth and his own heartbeat slamming in his chest, in his throat, in his head.

His lip slipped out from between his teeth, and out of reflex, he flicked his tongue to soothe the sting, and he could not ignore the way Dream sucked in a breath sharply through his teeth. Nick watched his pupils swell and he couldn’t say anything about Dream’s pink cheeks because he knew his own were just as warm.

And then it was like a flip was switched. Dream clenched his jaw, eyes flicking back up to Nick’s with a clarity that caught him off guard. “Fine,” Dream said, voice low and even. He stuck his tongue in his cheek for a moment of thought, and Nick tried desperately to keep up with the hidden thoughts behind Dream’s eyes. “Have it your way.”

Those words ran through Nick’s mind just once, before one wrist was released. Before he could even think to make his escape, rough fingers caught him by the jaw, tipping Nick’s head back as a grin flashed over Dream’s lips.

Then those lips were on Nick’s.

Dream kissed him and he kissed him hard, sinking his teeth into Nick’s bottom lip without waiting for a response. The jolt of pain dragged a grunt from Nick’s mouth, and he pressed it up against Dream’s, allowing the thumb on his chin to drag his lips apart. Clay kissed him hard and deep and hot and Nick gave it back just as rough and unforgiving.

His free hand jumped to the back of Dream’s head, threading fingers through loose blonde hair as he tilted his head up into the kiss. He craned his head up off the mattress, nipping at Dream’s tongue when it flicked his top lip. With a fistful of hair in his hand, he smirked into the kiss and yanked hard, dragging Clay’s mouth off him so he could gasp in a breath of air.

It was only a moment before Dream caught Nick by the wrist, shoving his hand back down into the mattress. Except this time, he slipped his fingers up, interlocking them with Nick’s as he kissed him. He pressed his tongue past Nick’s lips, growling at the sharp bites Nick delivered in return.

He’d forgotten about Clay’s knee on his thigh until the pressure vanished, Dream instead using his knee to push Nick’s leg to the side. It only felt natural to drag his knee up, dragging his ankle along the backside of Dream’s legs and pulling on the back of his thigh.

Even when they were kissing, they were fighting. Nick tried to press up against Dream, squirming and yanking on his wrists all the while trying to chase Dream’s tongue back into his own mouth. “Dream,” he growled when the Clay once again blocked Nick’s tongue, shoving his head back down against the mattress.

“Shut up,” Dream snarled, shifting his knee up the mattress between Nick’s legs. It wasn’t close enough and Nick’s underwear was too tight and too hot for him to handle. He bit back an irritated whine, and blushed at the smirk on Dream’s face.

“You’re such a dick,” Nick bit, squirming when Dream put both of his wrists together and with one hand, held them both down. His other hand caught Nick by the jaw as he scanned the Texan boy’s flushed face and kiss-worried lips, holding him still despite how Nick shifted and fought, wanting to get his hands on Dream’s shoulders, in his shirt, in his hair.

He was frustratingly intoxicating and Nick could not get enough. Dream who smelt like heat, like sweat and aftershave. Dream who dug his fingertips into Nick’s jaw and chin, grinning while he tilted Nick’s head back so he could kiss him deeper.

The tongue that pressed into Nick’s mouth was hot and greedy as it teased his own, and Nick could feel the smug glee that oozed from the man above him. “Takes one to know one,” he whispered against Nick’s cheek, before pushing Nick’s head all the way back and dropping his mouth to the curve of his throat.

Somewhere in the back of Sapnap’s head, he registered that he could still hear the other boys. Their conversation, the video, the fight; it felt so much further away with Dream’s tongue abseiling down his neck, and numbly he wondered if the boys had forgotten they were there.

The sweet trail of kisses that crept up the side of his neck were followed by a sharp bite to the skin just below Nick’s ear, and he couldn’t stop the cry from spilling from his mouth. Grinning lips and a cruel tongue smothered the stinging pain as Nick groaned; words of: “Fuck you, that hurt,” being followed by a moan he couldn’t bite back when Clay’s hand disappeared from his jaw and reappeared between his legs, pressing flat to Nick’s straining arousal. The flush of pleasure that wasn’t quite enough dragged a helpless whimper from his tongue as Nick tried to grind up into the touch only to have it vanish altogether. “Clay-” he moaned at the greedy sucking on his neck, loud and desperate and without a touch of shame. “Fuck, touch me- Please,” he gasped.

And that right there was his second screw up of the night.

“Woah, WHAT!?”

“FUCK, no, my ears!”

“Oh God, oh no, that’s- they’re not fighting anymore, that’s not fighting!”

The clamour of voices exploded from Nick’s computer, their previous quiet conversation completely forgotten as all three men’s heads were undoubtedly flooded with scenes they didn’t want to imagine, ever.

Dream vanished from on top of Nick within seconds, bolting to the computer as Nick scrambled to sit upright. His face was burning hot and he could barely catch his breath as he watched Dream smack a few buttons on the computer before rounding on him.

His own cheeks were flushed bright red and the look of alarm would have made Nick laugh had their situation not been as embarrassing as it was for the both of them. “You didn’t mute your mic!?” Dream demanded and Nick stared back at him in disbelief.

“What, was I supposed to anticipate that!?” he snapped back, squirming under Dream’s dirty look. He was still embarrassingly turned on from their… activities, and he had no idea what was even going to happen now.

They were best friends who lived together, not horny teenagers who jumped each other when they got a little bit worked up!

Dream rubbed his face with his hands, taking a deep breath and holding it. After a second of silence, he let it out with an exhausted laugh, shaking his head as he lifted it to look back over at Nick. “Well, that’s going to be an uncomfortable conversation,” he said simply, and Nick couldn’t help but laugh as well. What else was there to do?

“At least they weren’t streaming,” he offered and Dream snickered at the thought, tapping a few more buttons until the screen went black. Nick dropped back onto the mattress, hands on his face as he took a few breaths. His heart was still racing like crazy, and the pressure between his legs was starting to ache.

When he pushed back up onto his forearms, dropping a hand to readjust himself as he lifted his gaze to Dream. Sharp, green eyes were locked on him, more specifically his hand, which paused in its movements under the intense stare.

Nick watched with bated breath as a small smile twisted Dream’s lips, eyes dragging up over Nick as if considering all the things he could do to him. Wondering what was going through Clay’s head made Nick’s stomach drop and head spin. Dream slowly returned to the edge of the bed and Nick sat up further, unsure if he felt more scared of excited by the look in Clay’s eyes. He moved to drag his legs back towards him, but before he could get very far, Dream’s hands were locking onto his ankles, one hard pull dragging Nick to the edge of the mattress.

He tipped his head back to look up at Dream, biting his tongue when Dream cupped his cheek, running his thumb along his bottom lip.

“That’s an issue for another day,” Dream said, wetting his lip with his tongue as he tipped Nick’s head back further. He shifted back, arms barely holding him up as he tilted his head away from Dream’s hand.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a nervous laugh dropping from his mouth as he scooted back further.

Dream nodded, grin unfazed as he crawled onto the mattress. A hand to Nick’s chest pushed him back onto the mattress, another hand sliding up the inside of Nick’s leg. “Yeah,” Dream said, ghosting his fingers over the front of his sweats and watching Nick bite back a whimper. “Kinda busy right now.” He dipped down, capturing Nick’s mouth in another kiss; this one sweeter and softer than any of their others. He coaxed a soft sound from Nick’s throat, sucking his bottom lip and drawing his tongue out to flick against his own.

“Busy?” Nick gasped when Dream pulled back for a breath, both hands falling to the waistband on Nick’s sweatpants.

“Yeah,” he said with a sly grin, “Really busy.”

#dreamnap #dream #sapnap #fic #fanfic #steamy fic #this is the first and closest thing ive written to smut #in literally 9 months #so #go easy on me but let me know what u think- i know its messy #but i tried my best and i like it :)

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blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years

Text

Wide Awake-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Here’s Pt. 2 bitches. I hope you all enjoy ! Also, please go support and follow @notphilosopherstudentblog because she helped me out with this because she’s so intelligent. <3

Btw Title is based off Katy Perry’s song Wide Awake

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5k+

_________

It was early. Too early for Y/n to be crying. But her she was, sitting in bed, clinging to one of Clay's old shirts. In the past, it was normal for her to steal a couple of his belongings. It was typical of Y/n to invite herself into his closet, taking whatever she wanted to wear, whenever she wanted. But now it just felt wrong.

There were only a few items left Y/n had that were his. She never washed this shirt, she had only worn it once. She could still remember the day she stole it.

"Y/n, you've got to be kidding," Clay turned in his desk chair. She had just walked out of his closet wearing an oversized grey t-shirt. "You're seriously going to leave me with five pieces of clothing."

She shot him a playful look, taking a moment to admire herself in the nearest mirror. "I'm sorry Mr. 15 million subscribers. You can always buy more clothes with all that money."

"Fine... it looks better on you anyway."

She had spent the rest of the day in his shirt. And by the end of the day, the scent of his laundry detergent was strong. For an odd reason, the t-shirt had spent weeks in the back of Y/n's closet, untouched. At least, until this morning.

All night she was toss and turning. It seemed impossible for her to get a moment of sleep, her mind had been racing. The only reason she wasn't able to sleep was because of one person; Clay. Their fight had played over and over again in her mind.

'But Y/n, I really do love you.'

There were so many different ways the night could've ended. But it was her fault it ended how it did. If only she hadn't asked for him to step out of the stupid restaurant with her. She didn't need to make a scene, but she still did. This was all her fault.

The sound of her phone buzzing had pulled Y/n away from the piece of fabric in her hands. Looking down at her nightstand, she glanced at the electronic. Wilbur was calling. With a sigh, hesitantly she reached for the phone.

"Hey, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

The brunette bit his lip at the sound of her voice. He could tell she had a rough night. "Are you doing alright?"

"I'm..." she paused, looking down at the shirt in her lap. "Yeah, I'm doing better."

"That's good to hear," For some odd reason, he was pacing. It wasn't normal for him to pace back and forth. He was already dressed for the day, wearing a set of brown pants with a creme button-up shirt. A pair of glasses rested on his face as he spoke. "George and I were hoping to go get some breakfast. Do you think you could show us somewhere good?"

"Yeah, I'm up for breakfast. What about Nick and Clay?" If Clay was coming, she didn't know what she'd do. There would be tension, but maybe she could find a way to patch everything up between them.

"Nick's going over to Clay's. They wanna have a bit of time together."

"Oh, okay... when do you guys wanna meet up?"

"Maybe 30 minutes to an hour?"

"An hour it is."

Before preparing to go out, Y/n had texted Wilbur a location point to meet up. It was a nice restaurant located in town, it had always been one of her favorite places to eat. George and Wilbur had gotten a table outside, it was nice out for a day in Flordia.

"Do you think she's gonna do it?"

Wilbur glanced across the table to George, "Honestly, probably not." He let out a sigh, " hope she agrees. I really do. But it's gonna be hard for her to let go. I just think it'd be better if they got some time away from each other."

"You're right. As good of friends they are, they need a break from each other." They both knew it wasn't a good idea for Y/n to stay in Flordia at the moment, she needed a moment away from Clay. So Wilbur had come up with an idea to get Y/n to take a break.

"What do you think of Elise?" Changing the subject, George leaned back in his chair. It was rare for Clay's girlfriend to come up in conversation. She seemed like such a touchy subject in the group. She was definitely a sweetheart, but it seemed like she appeared out of nowhere. The group had been planning future Dream SMP roleplay on a Discord call. It had been so brief when Clay mentioned her. 'Hey guys, I just wanted to mention I started dating somebody.' It was smart of George to hold his tongue because of what else Clay had to say. 'Her name is Elise and she's 19.'

Most of the group had expected Clay and Y/n to end up together. They were best friends who lived in the same town. There was constant flirting going on between them. And not to mention Y/n had always been there to support Clay through the bad and good.

"Hey, guys!"

Both of the British men were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of her voice. Y/n was quick to take a seat by Wilbur. "Have we ordered yet?"

"No actually, we've been waiting for you." George fixed his posture, his classic grin appeared on his face. "Got any recommendations for drinks?"

"My go-to has to be a mimosa and the eggs benedict."

The knock came as a surprise, but there were a lot of surprises happening this morning. Clay had woken up earlier than usual. Naturally, he'd get up around 9 or 10, but today he woke at 7. He couldn't go to bed for a few more hours, his mind wouldn't quit racing with thoughts. He had ended up skipping breakfast, he wasn't hungry today. It was normal for him to eat something, he always woke up starved. The early knock was the cherry on top of the cake of the surprises happening today.

"Hey Nick, what are you doing here?" Clay glanced behind his friend, looking for any sign of the rest of his friends. Originally, they had planned to meet up later that afternoon at his place. "I thought you were coming by at noon?"

Nick stood on the porch, burying his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was early in the morning, yet it was already warm outside. "Yeah, sorry I didn't ask if I could come by earlier. I just wanted some time alone with you."

"Cool, make yourself at home," Stepping aside, the blonde opened the door a bit wider for his friend. "Sorry it's a bit messy, I was planning to clean up before you guys showed up."

The pair had made their way to Clay's living room. It was nice, but still a bit messy just as he said. As the blonde began to pick up after himself, the pair had a bit of small banter.

"Is Elise gonna come by this afternoon?" Nick watched as Clay picked up a couple of items sitting on the coffee table.

"Uh, no. I think she had work today."

"Oh, what about Y/n?"

Clay tensed, pausing for a second. She had been on his mind a lot since the last time he saw her. The way she looked at him... it hurt. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. This morning she was all he could think of. He missed her good morning texts, the way she'd update him about little situations happening in her schedule, when she would randomly face time him just to say: 'I wanted to see your stupid face because I missed it.'

"I... she's not coming."

"Why's that?"

"You know why, Nick." Clay let out a sigh, taking a seat on the couch. He didn't know what he could do, he was the one who messed everything up. If he tried to apologize, he might even piss Y/n off even more. She had always been a hardass about being hurt or betrayed, it was hard for her to give people a second chance. "I don't even think she knows we're all planning to meet up later today."

"Dude... it's weird seeing you two like this. It feels wrong." The two friends looked at one another, it seemed like Nick could tell exactly what Clay was thinking. 'It is wrong.'

"I miss her. But I was also the one who fucked everything up by ignoring her for weeks."

"Why'd you even do that?"

"Because I fell in love with her. I was scared she didn't feel the same. So I distanced myself and looked for someone to start a relationship with. That's why I met Elise."

"Clay... you're an idiot."

"I know."

Turning, Wilbur looked at Y/n. She was halfway finished with her meal. Everything was going great, she seemed so happy just to be able to talk with two friends. It seemed like the best time to spring the idea on her.

"Hey, Y/n?"

"Yes, Wilbur?"

He bit his lip, glancing at the man sitting on the other side of the table. George gave a brief nod, knowing what was going to happen next. "George and I had an idea we'd like to share with you."

"What is it?"

"You know how you've been talking about how you've always wanted to visit us in London?"

"Yeah..."

Wilbur paused, looking back at George for a second. "Well, we were thinking... I have a free room in my place. Why don't you spend one of two months with me just to see how you like London?"

Y/n's face lit up. "That sounds great, Wilbur. I... wow. That sounds so fun!" She paused, her smile disappeared. "But what about my house? I can't just abandon it for a month."

Wilbur bit his lip, 'Shit.'

"Clay can stop by once a week, just to make sure everything's fine. I'm positive he'll do it for you," George was quick to jump into the conversation. As soon as he mentioned Clay, Wilbur shot him a look. Y/n tensed at the sound of his name.

"Listen Y/n, you don't have to do it. Just keep the idea in mind, you can give me an answer before George and I leave."

"Okay..." Y/n bit her lip, looking at her food. She knew the only right answer was yes, but it was going to be hard to talk to Clay about this. "I think... I think I wanna do this. I wanna go with you guys."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, but... just give me some time to think it over."

"We're always here for you, Y/n. No pressure." Wilbur placed a hand on Y/n's. He wanted her to come to London, everything would be better. He cared a lot about Y/n, he really did. He just wanted to see her happy.

"I just want her to be happy," Clay let out a sigh, opening the refrigerator door. His eyes skimmed over what there was, he had gone grocery shopping the other day to plan for today. He still wasn't hungry.

"Everything's gonna get-" Nick paused, he was interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone ringing. There was a moment of silence as the blonde closed the refrigerator, approaching his phone on the kitchen counter.

"It's Y/n."

"What?"

"Do I pick it up?" Clay glanced at his friend.

"yes, yes, yes! Do it!"

Clay was quick to pick up the phone, putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Clay."

"Hey, Y/n."

"Do you..." she paused, "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Yeah, I can talk." Clay leaned against the counter, listening to her intently. It had only been a few days, but he missed her voice. He could tell she was down.

"I know this seems like the wrong time to be asking for favors and everything, considering everything that has happened this last week. But... I need your help with something." She paused again. He could tell she was hesitating, as though something was keeping her back. "I think I'm gonna be gone for a while. And I just need someone to check up with my house every couple of days. Could you do that? It's fine if you don't want to, it was a stupid idea of me to ask you anyways-"

"No, yeah. Of course, I'll check up on your house for you, Y/n." He was quick to cut her off. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she couldn't turn to him for help anymore. "And it's not stupid of you to ask me. I'll always be here if you need something or need help."

She scoffed, "You weren't there for me these past few weeks." She stopped herself again for the third time. "I'm sorry, that was really bitchy of me."

"I deserved it," he could only chuckle. Y/n was still herself. "But yeah, is there anything else you need... or want to talk about?"

"I... no. No, that's it. I guess I'll talk to you... eventually."

"Alright," Clay fought back the urge to let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll see you." Without saying goodbye, she hung up the phone. He didn't know what to expect next, he wasn't even sure whether this was a step in the right direction or not.

Staring at the box, Y/n felt herself tear up for the hundredth time this week. This was going to be a hard task to complete, but it was going to help her let go.

Walking around the house, Y/n picked up item by item. Anything that belonged to Clay was going in the box. A few t-shirts, a couple of CDs she stole, one of his coffee cups. Y/n wasn't even sure how the cup had gotten to her house, but she knew it belonged to Clay. All of her coffee cups matched, all the same color and shape. But... this one cup had shown up in her pantry one day. Every time Clay had spent the night, he'd start the morning off with a cup of coffee, only using that cup.

At this point, Y/n was picking up items that held too strong memories of him. The box had quickly filled, it felt strange. It seemed like she had just lost a chunk of her house. Of her life. This needed to happen. This was the only way they'd be able to keep their friendship.

Y/n had agreed to come to London with Wilbur, she was finally fully on board. Two suitcases sat by her front door as she waited for Wilbur and George to arrive. She would only be in Florida for a few more hours, she needed to give this box back to him. Maybe she could just say screw it, leave it here under her bed, hidden away. So when she'd return she'd be comforted by his shirts and hoodies, she'd listen to his songs and cry.

No. She couldn't do that. If she did that she wouldn't be letting go of everything. Y/n needed closure, it'd be the best for them both and she knew it. Pulling her out of her thoughts, Y/n heard a knock on her door. It was time.

"Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur." Y/n smiled, embracing her friend in a hug as soon as she opened the door.

"George is in the car. We got coffee too." Wilbur looked down at her, his arms still wrapped around her waist, holding her close. "You're positive you want to do this?"

"Yes, I need to."

"Alright, then. I'll support you with whatever decision you make." He finally stepped aside, moving to grab her suitcases. Y/n grabbed the box, she had moved it into the hallway before greeting Wilbur. With one more glance, she looked down her hallway before closing the door. As soon as her home was locked up, Y/n had dropped her keys into the box. This was going to be the final step before London. Giving it all back.

George and Y/n greeted each other, Y/n giving him a quick hug before entering the car. The rest of the time, the car ride was quiet. There was obviously going to be tension. On their way, Y/n kept thinking to herself about what she was going to say. What if she fucked it all up? What if they broke out into another fight?

"Here we are."

Y/n sucked in a breath, looking over at the familiar house. This was the final step.

"Y/n, do you need either of us to walk up with you?" Wilbur spoke, he noticed the way she looked at the house.

She shook her head. "No, I got this..." Stepping out of the car, there were only a few words she'd repeat to herself. 'This is the final step. This is the final step. This is the final step.' It felt like it took forever for her to reach his porch.

As soon as she was face to face with the wooden door, she was quick to hit the doorbell. She just wanted to get this over with, fast. A few moments passed, and just as she reached to hit the doorbell again, she stepped back. The door was opening.

"Y/n?" Clay yawned, his hair was a mess. It was obvious she had just woken him up. "What are you-"

"It's time for me to go now. I'm sorry for waking you up. Here are my keys and a few of your items in case you wanted them while I was-"

"Woah, woah, woah." He interrupted her, rubbing his eyes. "Slow down, you're talking fast. You're leaving? Right now?"

"I..." she sighed. "Yeah, I am."

"And this..." he looked down at the box in her hands. "They're all mine?"

"Yeah, that's kinda the whole point." She gave him a look, "Considering the box says your name."

"Alright... thank you," he nodded, carefully picking the box up from her. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

"I'm not sure. I just know I have to go."

"Why?"

"Because of us, Clay. It'd be better for both of us. We need time apart. We have so much going on in each other's lives. I just need a break."

He watched her, she looked close to tears. Without thinking, Clay pulled his friend into his embrace, holding her close. "I understand. Take as much time as you need. I'll be here."

"Thank you."

The hug was short, Y/n was the first to pull away. As soon as it was over, she muttered a quick goodbye, hurrying back to the car. When the car door shut, Wilbur was quick to jump to asking questions.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? You're completely sure you want to do this?"

"I'm fine, Wilbur."

"Alright, I just wanted to check." Wilbur paused, looking out the window. "Y/n, would you mind if George and I said our goodbyes to Clay?"

"Go ahead, I'm not the boss of you."

Sitting in the car alone, Y/n got a moment to catch her breath and stop the tears from forming. She did it. She completed the final step. She could do whatever she wanted now. The moment alone in the car felt short, George and Wilbur were back in the car in what felt like seconds. Only, Wilbur sat in the back with Y/n, George driving by himself.

"You ready, Y/n?"

"More than anything." Y/n looked at Wilbur, the way he smiled at her just felt... good. Looking down, she noticed Wilbur gently grabbing her hand in his. She smiled, things were going to start getting good for her, she knew it.

"Wow okay, now I just feel like a driver for you two." George shot a dirty look in the mirror.

"A bad driver," Y/n grinned at her friend. "Start moving, Mr. colorblind." "If I get a ticket for running a red light, I'm blaming you."

With a yawn, Y/n opened her eyes. She had another good night of sleep, it had been weeks since she had a bad night of sleep. For eight months, she had lived in London. At this point, her house in Flordia was sold to a family of three, and she was no longer flatmates with Wilbur. Instead, she was his girlfriend.

Turning over, she faced the beautiful brunette. He was still asleep. She owed him everything. She was now an influencer because of him, he had helped her set up her YouTube channel and introduced her to the fans. He thought it'd be a good job for her, considering how she was a social butterfly and carry conversations.

Clay and Y/n didn't interact as much as they use to. They'd interact on the Dream SMP and over social media. But it was rare for them to speak in private. The only way their relationship got better was by them distancing themselves. What was a beautiful friendship had turned into an acquaintanceship. Clay was still dating Elise, but it seemed like things weren't going the best and there were signs of him planning to break up with her soon.

Wilbur peeked an eye open, looking at his girlfriend. "Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

Y/n smiled, she knew she was right. Everything got better for her. After all, When the rain ends, there will always be a rainbow.

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Wreck The Malls: Flip Zimmerman and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

6.2k ; cw: mentions of gun violence, blood and injury ; NSFW (shower sex, injured sex, PIV, oral sex)

Available on AO3

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

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. But it is also universally acknowledged, that a lucky man in possession of a good wife, should want to get her something special for the holidays.

This is the story of how one Detective Flip Zimmerman of the CSPD, goes on a journey through hell and back to obtain such a gift, and might just learn the true meaning of Christmas along the way.

Now, though this story takes place on Christmas Eve, it should be noted that our Mr. Zimmerman does not actually like Christmas. He doesn’t celebrate it, and he thinks the entire holiday is one big headache. Does it bother him that his own holidays always seem to be overlooked in favor for the goyishe celebrations of December? Yes – but that’s not the reason he dislikes it so much. If you were to ask him, he would say something akin to;

“I just don’t know why the fuck everyone makes such a big goddamn deal.” He huffs and puffs on his cigarette in the parking lot. Flip rolls his eyes, “All month long, stores have been playing this shit music since the day after Thanksgiving.”

Sitting in his car with Ron – the only one of his friends patient enough to listen to him complain for an hour straight – Flip turns the radio down just low enough for Jingle Bell Rock to sound. They’re outside the big mall, something shiny and brand new, just in the nick of time for the holidays. Ron shrugs, going over his last-minute shopping list.

“We can go home, no one will know.” Ron points out for what must seem like the eighteenth time.

Flip had asked Ron to accompany him both for emotional support, but also to get a second opinion on the gift he was picking up for you. Flip loves you more than anything else in the entire world – yes, even more than his buc-wheat cereal and Greek yogurt – and even though you had already exchanged presents during Hanukkah only a few days prior, that wasn’t going to stop him.

“Of course we can’t go home, I want to get her something nice.” He says as much, flicking the ash of his cigarette out of the car window, the oppressive commercialism of the mall looming ahead.

“(Y/N) doesn’t like Christmas either though.” Ever the practical voice of reason, Ron tries giving Flip one more out, one more chance to turn back now, “You don’t have to put yourself through this, you know.”

“It’s not a Christmas present,” Flip shakes his head, finally turning the car engine off entirely, and silencing the radio once and for all. He steels himself, staring at his reflection in the rearview mirror, “It’s a just-because present. I already have it all picked out and everything, I just need to go in and pay for it.”

“You’ve got some real brains underneath those flowing locks of yours man.” Ron smiles, gets out of the car and stretches out his muscles for what he’s sure will be a ton of walking through angry mobs, “Minimizing the amount of time in there is probably for the best, considering.”

It’s the way that Flip hesitates that clues Ron in that maybe, Flip didn’t have as many brains as he had thought.

“Considering what?” Flip asks, the second clue.

“Flip, it’s Christmas Eve.” Ron spells it out plainly, and wishes he had a camera to capture the exact moment that the next thought enters Flip’s mind, and subsequently spills out of his mouth:

“…Oh fuck.”

Shaking his head fondly, Ron claps a hand on Flip’s shoulder as he rounds the front of the car, and the two of them brave the great unknown together.

Flip was not nearly as familiar with the mall as he likes to think, but he knows where the jewelry store is, and really that’s all that matters.

They make their way down to that section of the enormous space, and it’s almost impossible to ignore the sheer abundance of Christmas Cheer that surrounds them. Nearly every store had something in its window display: lights, statues, mannequins modeling holiday attire, some even had moving animatronic animals that gave Flip the shivers. Every pole and railing and kiosk in the place was covered in garland and lights, and in the grand atrium, enormous ornaments were suspended from the ceiling.

Pausing for a moment and looking up at them, Flip wonders what the likelihood would be for them to all come crashing down.

He’s so caught up in fact, that he nearly misses Ron branching off in another direction.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Flip jogs a couple paces to catch up, a frown already forming between his brows.

“I need to pick somethin’ up for Patrice.” Ron explains, holding up his little shopping list. Flip gives him a mildly panicked look, but Ron only reassures him with, “We’ll meet up at the food court?”

I can do this, Flip thinks to himself, it’s one store. How bad could one store be?

“Sure, don’t take too long.” Flip eventually agrees, swallowing down the feeling of impending doom – otherwise known as “acid reflux” according to you – and squaring his shoulders.

He didn’t need Ron, he was a grown man after all. He fought in Vietnam twice! Surely he could go to the jewelry store…right?

Making his way over to the escalator, Flip has his eye on the prize; Goldsmith’s Jewelry is just off to the left, he can see it coming. Playfully taking the five golden rings theme and running with it, large decorations spin gently in the window, glittering in the light. Flip’s relieved to see the place relatively empty.

Not completely dead, but definitely not a line out the door the way that the toy store had. As a matter of fact, when Flip walks through the glass doors, he’s greeted by less than ten people, including the owner himself, who lights up when he spots his friend.

“Philip! Good to see you son. Here for those earrings you were looking at?” Carl, a fabulously eccentric man with no less than fifteen pieces of jewelry on at any given time practically jingles when he comes around the counter to give Flip a hug.

“You bet Carl, how much am I layin’ out for you?” Flip has to bend himself nearly in half to reach the kind gentleman’s embrace, already reaching for his wallet.

Carl was one of those men who could reminisce and catch up for hours on end, and as much as Flip would love to listen to the story about how Carl lost his dentures in his shoe for the hundredth time, he would rather listen to you instead. Thankfully, Carl doesn’t seem too pressed about it, and he only beckons the detective over to the register counter.

“Tell you what, since you’re practically family and helped out Darlene with her car troubles, I’m taking half off.” Carl announces with a twinkle in his eye, making Flip feel a little guilty about wanting to scram as fast as possible.

“Oh you don’t have to go doing all that Carl really – ” Flip tries, but Carl is having none of it.

“I want to!” He smacks at Flip’s hands when he tries to offer him the full amount of cash, fully turning his back on Flip to go into the little employees only room. “You stay right here, I’ll just go into the back and get it wrapped up real nice for you.”

Left alone once again, Flip has no choice but to let his eye wander. The entire place was sensory overload, really, and Flip wishes he could have a fucking cigarette. Was the music at the mall always this loud and discordant? Chewing on his lip instead of the butt of a cigarette, Flip looks around the store.

He makes uncomfortable eye contact with a man who is clearly picking up something for the wife and something else for the girlfriend, and he looks away when he realizes. Training his eye on the great big mirror up on the wall instead, Flip frowns.

Is that…no, it couldn’t be.

Santa Claus wouldn’t be taking a break from the Workshop near the foodcourt to stop into a jewelry store, would he? Flip shakes his head, he’s probably just being paranoid. The guy is probably on break and looking for something for Mrs. Claus. Flip cracks himself up with that thought, and is about to turn around and joke with the guy about it – when he notices through the mirror that the Santa is ever so cautiously reaching around the counter, looking for the lock mechanism.

“Shit.” Flip licks across his teeth, when he manages it open and begins pulling out necklaces with seemingly no one noticing.

Carl still hasn’t come back, so Flip casually reaches for the phone on the counter near the register, dials the direct line number to his buddy back at the station.

“CSPD this is Jimmy – ”

“It’s me, I’m at the jewelry store on the second level of the mall downtown. I think there’s a robbery about to go down, I’m going to need backup.” Flip mutters as quietly as he can into the receiver, keeping and eye on the Santa.

Sure enough, he’s pulling out a sack, and it looks as if this guy has already hit up quite a few stores, if the brand new boxed electronics filling it are anything to go by.

“Is he armed?” Jimmy asks immediately, and Flip tries to get a good look.

“I can’t tell, he’s in a Santa suit.” He explains, and then scowls when the line goes silent for a moment.

“…Flip are you serious?” Jimmy tries to start some bullshit but Flip doesn’t have the time for this.

“Yes I’m fucking serious would you just tell Trapp I need backup? Ron is here somewhere but I don’t know where the fuck he went.” He hisses, teeth clenching tight enough that he can feel the muscle fluttering in his jaw.

“Okay okay! I’m on it, keep him in your sight.” Jimmy replies, before hanging up.

Trying to steal a glance through the mirror again, Flip realizes he must have been a little too loud, because the Santa has bolted through the doors, sack filled with diamond and ruby and sapphires galore.

“Fuck.” Flip grunts to himself, before slamming down the phone near the register and rushing out of the store with a futile, “CSPD! Hands where I can see them!”

This would be much easier, Flip reasons, if it weren’t Christmas fucking Eve. The mall is swamped with people, loud and slow like big dumb buffalo – no, he wouldn’t do buffalo the disservice of comparing them to these last minute mall shoppers who cannot decide if they want to walk on the left or the right side of the aisle. Santa, he needs Santa – but there are so many! Nearly a dozen guys in red coats and white beards ring bells or wave or laugh jolly hearty laughs, and Flip feels like he’s in hell.

No, he supposes, Hell must be the five-story Hibbard & Co., where he finally manages to catch sight of the Santa he’s after. Bolting across the large expanse of the mall and into the first level of the store, Flip trips and stumbles through displays of empty cardboard box presents and wooden nutcrackers, causing shouts and screams of distress to erupt around him from the patrons of the store.

The employees however, are entirely unphased, they continue to spritz the air with their perfume samples, directly into the face of Flip, who is scrambling and already breathing heavy as it is, his boots carrying him around the sharp corners of the mirrored kiosks in the perfume department.

“Oh – shit – fuck!” Flip’s blinded by the perfume, his eyes stinging. He’s choking on it, unable to breathe as rose water stings his vision. “I love my job, I love my wife, I love my job…”

He chants to himself as he blinks and coughs, to no avail; he’s so blinded that he crashes into a display of coats, which in a domino-like effect crash down all the other displays of winter clothing on their way down, but Flip can’t stick around to apologize, the Santa is getting away.

“Out of my way – Ron!” Flip shouts as he pushes and shoves himself through the large swathes of people, Christmas music blaring bright and cheerfully as he runs and runs and runs, shouting out, “Ron if you can hear me a little help would be appreciated!”

The Santa isn’t making this easy for him, Flip curses, as he runs down the up escalator.

Following suit, there’s real screams now when the Santa pulls out a gun and starts blindly shooting behind himself at Flip, making everyone on the escalator, and everyone in that area of the mall for that matter, scatter. If Flip thought the crowds were bad, a mob was even worse, and soon everyone is running in every which way direction, as this Santa gets off the escalator and sprints down towards the food court.

Flip wonders why the place isn’t on a lockdown yet, wonders what the hell is taking backup so long to get there already. Didn’t this place have cops? Weren’t the mall cops good for literally anything? What a waste of his time, Flip thinks, as he runs runs runs with his gun in his hands, trying to hold steady as he aims to shoot, the robber in his sight, he can see him, he can practically smell him --

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this – oh fuck me -- !” Flip collides hard with an unsuspecting dad who just happened to be grabbing lunch from the food court for his entire family.

“Watch where you’re fucking going pal!” The dad shouts.

All at once, a whole tray of pizza slices doused in red sauce and melted cheese, and four large cups of pepsi are flying through the air and landing all over Flip’s brand new shirt, the one that you had just given to him for Hanukkah. He wants to be livid, wants to choke this guy out but the robber is getting away, Flip’s losing visual on him, and after all the trouble, there’s no chance he’s letting him get away.

“You fucking watch it!” Flip scrambles up, which isn’t easy to do on freshly mopped linoleum floors covered in soda pop, his gun spiraling a couple feet in front of him that he lunges to pick up, muttering to himself, “Ruined my goddamn – ugh – fuck!”

He has to change, and he has to change quickly – scanning the nearest stores, the closest one in the mall that sells clothing. He runs over to it, already unbuttoning his ruined shirt, and grabs the first thing on the rack he sees, which happens to be the most hideous, tacky, terrible looking Christmas sweater.

Flip raises his eyes up to the ceiling, and can practically feel the universe laughing at him when he groans, “Oh you have got to be kidding me.”

There’s no time, he doesn’t have any other choice, so he yanks the ruined shirt over his head and throws the sweater on. It’s two sizes too small, and it’s itchy as all fucking hell, and of course, as if the situation couldn’t get any worse…the faux lights turn out to not be so faux after all, and they blink as he accidentally rips a tag off so not to trip any alarms.

Throwing money onto the counter as the employees stare at him like he’s a maniac and not just trying to do his fucking job, Flip’s chest heaves as he stands there, gun drawn, scanning the panicked swarms of people in front of him.

“Where did you go you motherfucker?” Flip growls, growing more and more pissed off by the minute.

A moment or two goes by, but then he spots him – the pet grooming salon.

Without any hesitation, Flip is chasing this man down with all his vigor, lungs pumping full of recycled mall air conditioning, blood pounding in his veins. The sooner he catches this guy and gets him cuffed, the sooner all this pandemonium will end.

“Hey!” He hears an authoritative shout from the other end of the mall, and lets out a sigh of relief.

The mall security has finally shown up, and he’s about ready to tell them that Santa is in the pet salon, when he notices they are not slowing down in their full force sprint towards him.

“Shit, shit shit shit,” Flip realizes they think he’s the maniac! “I’m a cop! It’s not me – I’m – oh for fuck’s sake.”

Flip realizes he doesn’t have the time to explain, so he does the exact opposite thing you’re supposed to do: run.

Into the pet salon Flip goes, hoping that if he can just grab the Santa it’ll all be explained, but there is no Santa to be found. Instead, Flip is met by a dozen dogs that have been let loose. Big dogs, like Dobermans and Rottweilers, and small dogs like Poodles and Pomeranians have all been released from their cages, and for whatever reason, are baring their teeth at him, and lunging after him as he runs the other way.

“Heel! Sit! Stay – ow!” Flip feels teeth sink into his ankles, and doesn’t bother looking back as he kicks away one of the smaller dogs in the pack that is chasing him.

He can see the Santa, and now, chased by dogs and mall cops, Flip chases him down for hopefully the last leg of this race. He can feel steam shooting out of his ears, he’s never going to leave home again he decides, never is going to step foot in this fucking mall again, as he’s chased.

Meanwhile, blissfully unaware over in the lingerie department of Macy’s, Ron Stallworth’s greatest dilemma is trying to choose between the red velvet bra and panty set, or the navy satin set. He’s been staring at the two sets for quite some time now, and is conscious of the fact that Flip must be waiting for him, so he calls over one of the employees for her opinion.

He explains that it’s for his girlfriend, and while red and blue are both colors she likes, he isn’t sure which would get the most use – when he sees a Santa Claus stumbling and tripping over himself, shoving people out of his way as he runs past the great big glass windows.

“Huh.” Ron frowns, putting the sets down and moving over to the windows to get a better look.

Ron hears the commotion before he sees it, but when he does see it – ‘it’ being his best friend bleeding, in a blinking fuzzy Christmas sweater, gun brandished, chased by dogs and security who are blowing their whistles and brandishing guns of their own – he grabs all his shit and makes leave.

“If you ladies will please excuse me – ” Ron gives a parting excuse to the employees, who only frown at him as he runs and runs and runs to catch up to, “Flip! Flip what the fuck is going on!”

“It’s about goddamn time!” Flip shouts, nearly red in the face from exertion and sheer unbridled rage as he points with his gun to the man in red a few yards ahead, “That Santa! Is! A! Maniac! I don’t know how many stores he’s stolen from, but at least from the jewelry store and is shooting at people – watch out!”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, half a dozen men throw large plastic ornaments the size of cars out onto the floor as a means to blockade the hall. They’re dressed in green, with red and white stockings and pointed hats that have jingle bells on the end, but these were no innocent visitors from the North Pole.

“Of fucking course he’s got elves.” Flip grunts as he tries to run around them, tries his best to avoid getting hit square in the chest with them as they bounce and create a rampaging path of destruction.

“I’ll handle the dogs and the elves, and the mall cops, you catch Santa.” Ron slows down enough, until he’s far enough away that Flip can’t hear him, his own feet still on auto-pilot as he hunts down the Santa.

And then – then!

As if by some miracle, the Santa trips, and he and his sack full of stolen goods all come crashing down to the linoleum floor. In slow motion, Flip jumps using all the strength he has left, hands extended to grab the Santa, and as he flies across the distance between their bodies, Flip swears he sees his life flash before his eyes.

Thudding to the floor, he manages to get the Santa in a chokehold, letting out a triumphant shout of victory.

“Got you!” He pins the man down, rolls him over onto his back so that he can pin his hands behind his back, Flip fishing for his handcuffs that he managed to keep in his back-pocket this whole time, “I got you you son of a bitch!”

Off to the side, a group of small children watch a grown man leap and tackle Santa Claus to the ground.

Little Stacey gasps in shock and horror, before her older brother Jacob can quickly cover her eyes with his own mittened hand. They, along with their friends – an assortment of ten to twelve year olds left unsupervised on Christmas Eve while their parents and gaurdians get gifts for in-laws they don’t like – immediately turn to one another, while Santa’s body jerks and writhes underneath the heavy knee of some strange man.

“What should we do?” Nicolas asks the leader of their group.

“Well there’s really only one thing we can do.” Dewey says with all the determination of a man about to walk into battle. The children exchange glances with resolution and with all the authority that an eighth-grader can muster, Dewey regards his friends, “All in favor of rescuing Santa and saving Christmas, say ‘aye’.”

“Aye!”

It is this emboldened shout of unity that draws Flip’s attention – before he is promptly charged by six small children who proceed to punch, and bite, and smack at him.

In the chaos, Santa manages to slip out of Flip’s grasp. Thankfully he’s still handcuffed and he’s dropped his gun, but the children don’t notice that. No, they’re too busy beating the shit out of Flip, who can’t bring himself to fight back against the angry fists of fury that are descending onto him.

“Get off of me! Get – I am a police fucking officer get off -- !” Flip manages to shake them away, and they stare up at him with wide eyes when he wipes the blood away from his nose at being slammed to the ground.

“Don’t you assholes have parents – oh forget it.” Flip doesn’t bother, caring so little about anything anymore.

He’s is almost defeated, almost, but Santa is handcuffed and limping, he can’t get too much farther, he’s so close – he’s right there –

“Oh shit!” Flip jumps back, as suddenly, out of nowhere, Ron in one of the security mall-carts comes darting from around the corner and t-bones the Santa from the side.

Santa’s body slides across the floor, and seconds later, Bridges, Trapp, Jimmy, and a dozen or so other familiar faces flood the large floor, in their blues and with their walkie talkies loud.

“Flip!” Bridges darts over to where Flip has practically collapsed onto the floor.

He’s directly underneath those ornaments, and he practically wills one of them to unlatch from their suspension and crush him to death.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Bridges has the audacity to ask, looking Flip straight in the face.

His bleeding, swollen face.

There’s a moment or two where Flip can’t think of anything other than how badly he wants a fucking cigarette, but eventually he licks across his teeth, scratches the back of his neck.

“Honestly?” Flip muses, before replying in the most dry deadpan way he can muster, “I’ve never been better.”

Blood drips onto the blinking Christmas sweater, and with that, Bridges claps him on the back and nods.

“Go home. We’ll get your statement after the holiday weekend.” He says, and sweeter words have never been spoken. “Don’t worry about Ron, we’ll give him a lift home.”

Flip’s snowy home in the mountains has never, ever looked more beautiful, Flip can’t help but think. It was quiet, so quiet up here. Snow dusted itself along the length of the front porch, draped the roof and surrounding trees in a blanket of crisp clean fresh white. No dirt, no blood, no sweat – just white. It was purifying, to say the least.

But not so purifying as the front door opening and your stunning face lighting up to see him.

That is, until you notice him limping, notice him covered in blood, notice his hair destroyed and his face bruised. Then your smile melts into something closer to shock and terror.

“Phil! What the fuck happened to you?” You rush to him, trudging through snow that’s up to your calves. You’re not wearing shoes, and Flip can’t bear the thought of you getting too cold, so he hoists you up and holds you against his side, walking you back to the house.

“I…really…don’t want to talk about it.” Flip sighs, wanting nothing more than to crawl under the covers with you and never emerge.

“Holy shit, are you bleeding?” You push your hand up to his face and feel at his tender nose, making him wince.

“That sounds about right.” He mutters, slamming the door behind him with his foot when he finally crosses the threshold into the foyer of the house.

Flip puts you down and immediately shoves his entire face into your neck, trying hard not to cry. What a fucking day it had been, he can’t help but think as he lets the stress and frustration finally mount behind his eyes. His face hurts, everything about him hurts, his legs are exhausted, his back is fucking killing him, and worse of all, his ego is beyond bruised.

“I hate Christmas.” Flip hiccups, knowing that he’s smearing blood against your pretty robe. Now that he’s got you in his arms, he doesn’t want you to go away, doesn’t want you more than a foot away from him.

“I know sweetheart, I know. Come on let’s go take a shower.” You card your fingers through his hair, and lead him up to the bathroom.

In the light of the bathroom, you do your absolute damndest not to laugh. It’s not that you’re laughing at him, because you would never laugh at him of course, but you’ve never seen your husband look more angry in his entire life, and you’ve been there for a significant portion of it. You have a million questions that you know better than to bombard him with right now, knowing he’ll explain all in due time.

So instead, you peel away his layers until the both of you are naked. A Christmas sweater that blinks bright red and green is buried under blood-stained and ripped jeans, your robe, underwear and socks. Flip turns on the heat and waits for the water to not be so frigid, and in the meantime, you examine him.

“Were…did you get bit by a dog?” You frown as you see crescent bruises blooming underneath his skin. Thankfully, it looks like no actual puncture wounds – what a Christmas gift that would be, rabies.

“More like a pack.” Flip grumbles, making your eyebrows shoot up nearly to your hairline. You want to ask, but Flip dismisses it for now with a sigh and an, “It’s a long story.”

Finally the water seems to be good enough for him, and Flip leads you into the shower. At once, the water runs pink as it washes him clean of the day from hell. Your hands in his hair are heavenly, washing the muck and sweat and grime out of the locks, and Flip could practically cry.

“I know what you need.” You whisper, kissing at the side of his face that’s not tender.

Keeping heated eye contact, you slowly slowly slowly slink down to your knees. Water cascades down your shoulders as your hand reaches for Flip’s cock, as you pump it ever so carefully in even strokes until he’s fully hard.

Your tongue licks up a thick stripe of his shaft, and Flip has to lean fully against the wall so his legs don’t give out and he winds up in the ER with a concussion again. Your mouth swallows him down, feels the weight of his cock on your tongue, against the roof of your mouth, the back of your throat.

“Bed, now.” Flip stops you before you can get any further, and you pull off with a smile, glad to see that though he’s in a bad mood, he’s willing to let you help him feel better.

Barely drying off with a towel, Flip kisses and kisses and kisses you as you both stumble to your bed, falling down on top of the covers. You’re giggling against his lips just because you love him so much, but he’s not smiling. No, he’s still in a proper pissed off mood, and you’re glad to let him do what he will with you.

Flip’s cock throbs as it slides in real easy into your cunt, the wet heat of your body welcoming him on the first thrust. Your eyes fall shut as your back arches off the mattress from the feeling of being so filled so fast, the breath punching out of your lungs.

“God you’re wet.” He has to groan, swipes a few fingers over your clit just to massage it and get your legs shaking, your shoulders squirming for him, “What – were you jerkin’ off missing me? Thinkin’ about me? I was thinkin’ about you.”

The thought makes him break out into a sweat as he starts to thrust, his limbs aching and sore from all the running and bodily contact, but too desperate for you to give a fuck.

“Yeah, yes Flip – I missed you, missed your cock.” You whine, giving him permission to, “Give it to me, take it all out on me honey.”

The flood gates open, and Flip’s ramming into you hard and fast. He’s bouncing the mattress, slamming the headboard from it, from the grip on your hips as he fucks and fucks and fucks you. Spit strings down from his teeth as his jaw is clenched, savoring the feeling and chasing that feeling, of your beautiful body opening and squeezing around him.

“Fuck ketsl, fuck I – oh damn that feels good.” He grinds himself all the way up inside you, pushes you up the bed with the force of it. He grabs at your hair, yanks your head back so he can suck and kiss at your throat, can feel your fluttering pulse as you moan and sigh and gasp.

“Yeah? How good? Tell me.” Your hands don’t know where to go, you don’t want to accidentally touch a bruised spot, so instead they fist in the sheets as you push your hips up to let him rail into you from this new angle.

“I’m gonna knock you the fuck up, that’s how good it is, that’s how hard you make me ketsl, do that thing I like? You know the one.” Flip’s delirious, doesn’t know what he’s even saying, but you breathe out a harsh moan from the words, hands pushing your tits together.

“Like this?” Your voice wobbles from the fucking he gives you, breasts bouncing, nipples peeking through your spread fingers as you cup and hold them for him.

“Just like that – fuck, goddamn baby you’re so pretty, I could fuck this pussy all night long – ow!” Flip is about to lavish kisses onto your cleavage, when something twinges in his back, and his arms collapse underneath him and he falls square on top of your chest.

“Shit, Flip are you okay?” Your body tenses immediately, worried for him, the mood ruined.

“Yeah – yes, dammit,” Flip groans, never feeling more like an old middle aged man than he does right now.

“Okay maybe don’t fuck me all night long,” You chuckle, calming and soothing him with your hands in his hair, abandoning the hold on your breasts. Still, you’d hate for him to not even get to come after all of that, so you kiss the side of his tender nose and whisper, “Are you close?”

“Yeah, sorry I’m sorry – ” Flip rolls you onto your side, eases back into you that way, where he doesn’t have to hold himself up.

“Don’t apologize, just come in me honey, come in me.” You encourage, knowing that he’ll get a good few orgasms out of you once he’s feeling a little better.

Flip nods and kisses you, wet and hot and sloppy as he thrusts a few more times, your legs corralled over his, until he grunts out long and low, spills into your pussy.

He rides that high, rides the feeling of your sweet lips on his, until all he can do is groan from being sore.

“I think I need to see a doctor.” Flip grumbles, sounding so dejected.

“Yeah I think so too handsome.” You give him an apologetic smile on behalf of the universe, and he sighs.

You’re an angel though, striking up a cigarette for him. Passing it to him, Flip pulls out of you with a wince and the two of you starfish out onto your backs, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You let him have a few minutes of silence, but eventually the curiosity kills you and you have to ask,

“Hey, how come you were even in the mall to begin with?” Peering up at him through your lashes, wondering what the hell he had even gotten himself into, “I thought you were just popping into work for something.”

At that moment, the cold dread of realization crashes through Flip, and despite his injuries and general exhaustion, sits straight up in bed and gasps out, “Oh fuck!! I’m sorry ketsl I was going to surprise you with – ”

Just then, the doorbell rings, and the both of you frown at one another.

You weren’t expecting anyone to come over, even though it was Christmas Eve, you didn’t have any plans to celebrate anyway other than with some Chinese food takeout and a good movie. Considering the state that Flip is in, you go to reach for your robe, but Flip shakes his head and grabs for his instead.

“No, let me. You’re not dressed.” Flip says.

You love him enough not to point out that he isn’t dressed either, but Flip deserves to do what he wants after the day he’s had, you think.

Creeping down the stairs, Flip tries to look through the front window to see who it could be, but whether it’s the angle or something else, he can’t get a good visual. He pulls the robe sash tighter around his waist, looks through the peephole.

Strangely, there’s nothing there, no one to be seen. No car in his driveway, either.

How strange, Flip thinks, as he cracks the door open, wondering what the fuck else the day has in store for him.

Sitting right there on the front porch, is a small box. It’s wrapped in a golden ribbon, bearing the logo of Goldsmith’s Jewlery in a wax seal on the side. Frowning, Flip approaches it, picks it up. It feels like the right weight, but to be sure, he pulls open the ribbon and peeks inside.

Sure enough, resting atop the black velvet interior of the box are the diamond earrings that had started this whole mess.

Something about that, something about those earrings being there, makes Flip’s heart warm through. Even though it’s cold, he doesn’t feel the bite of the wind. All he can think about, is you, waiting for him upstairs in your bedroom. You, who care for him, who takes care of him, even on days when he doesn’t even want to take care of himself.

The earrings twinkle in the grey sunlight of the snowy day, and despite it all, Flip smiles to himself. What was another year of bullshit, really? He could go through anything, could do anything, as long as he had you by his side. Yes, Flip thinks, it’s all worth it, or at least it will be, when he sees your smile once again, when he gives you this little token of his appreciation, of his love.

And as he casts his gaze up to the sky, half expecting to see the real Santa Claus flying away in his sleigh, half expecting to see some friendly man smiling down at him behind a team of reindeer, Flip feels something that maybe…just maybe…might be akin to Christmas Spirit.

Until the moment passes, and he’s reminded of the day’s events by a twinge in his side from where he was donkey kicked by a twelve year old.

“Who the fuck am I kidding,” Flip scoffs to himself after a shake of his head, locking the door behind him, “Ba fuckin’ humbug, and a merry new year.”

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/you #flip zimmerman x you #blackkklansman #adam driver fanfiction #adcu #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman humor #flip zimmerman angst #my writing

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hopelessly-me · 3 years

Text

This fic is for Nox who sent me a DM on discord and said she wants more witchy Clint. And since @noxnthea deserves all the good things in life- I had to write her some witchy Clint with a dash of future winterhawk.

I hope you enjoy it! (1765 words.)

Clint sat perched on a barstool, leaning over the desk and reading from his book. One elbow was propped up on the desk, his head on his hand as he read the lines. His other hand was near his mug of tea, the spoon spinning automatically for him, a thin purple line running from his finger to the mug. It was a quiet afternoon so far, and Clint really hoped it stayed that way.

The front door opened and he could tell from the giggle that his day just got a little less fun. Clint marked the page he was one and closed his book before he sat up straight. “Welcome to Herbs and Roses. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks!” a girl called out cheerfully. “Com’on Buck,” she said, pulling at the hand of a man following behind her. He looked around the store a bit suspiciously, hesitant before he followed through.

Clint smiled and shook his head before he got up and made himself a mug of fresh tea. What he really wanted was coffee from across the street- the cutie behind the bar was always so nice, and it helped they knew his exact order so even in his sleepy states he could get his caffeine fix. But tonight he was supposed to work on some spell work, maybe even some shadow work, and coffee somehow made that worse. His friends had warned him that sometimes you needed to be off certain things when practicing spells you didn’t know because it could exaggerate the process. Apparently that was coffee for Clint, which was a damn shame.

“Hi.”

Clint nearly startled and looked at the girl that was standing much too close. She was a sweet little thing, big blue eyes and dark, curly hair. She gave off that energy of kindness, with a bit of spunk and a whole lot of fun- she was definitely someone Clint should hang out with after he took on too much negative energy from others. Being an empath was the worst.

“Hey. Something I can help you find?” he asked.

“I’m looking for a love potion,” she said, following Clint as he walked back to his spot behind the counter.

“A love potion? You?” Clint asked, setting his mug down and leaning in. “Seems unlikely. Who doesn’t fall for your charm?” he asked. Maybe a little flirting would soften the blow once she became demanding, if she became demanding.

“Apparently the guy I want to date,” she answered. “It’s a witches shop, right? Don’t you make love potions?”

“It’s not something we keep in stock, no,” Clint answered. “I am of the firm belief that everyone has body autonomy so I don’t stock items that take away any layer of that. No love potions, no truth serums. Usually the people using them don’t understand the consequences that come with their use.”

Soon enough the man she walked in with joined her and looked as surprised as Clint felt. It was the cutie from across the way who worked at the coffee shop. He smiled after a moment and looked at his sister before he gave a ‘what can you do’ type of shrug.

“Is that something all witches have to say?” the girl asked. “Some spiel about how bad things can happen, yada yada. Like it’s a liability clause so you don’t get sued.”

Clint laughed and picked up his mug and took a sip before he set it down. “I wish anyone luck suing me for using spells- those aren’t covered under anything the government takes seriously. But no, that’s not why I say that people don’t understand the consequences.” He propped both elbows onto the table and rested his head on his hands. “Let me ask you a question- what’s your name?”

“I’m not supposed to tell that to people, right?” she asked, all proud of herself.

“Hmm- yes and no. But seeing as I’m no fae and I am not collecting your hair, I think you are safe,” Clint teased. “My name’s Clint.” He offered her his hand.

“Rebecca,” she answered, shaking his hand for a moment.

“Rebecca. That’s a nice name. And who is this?” Clint asked.

“My brother, Bucky,” Rebecca answered.

“Rebecca and Bucky. Okay Miss Rebecca. How about I cut you a deal?” Clint said. “I will make you this love potion- I certainly know how to make it, I’ve made it before. But there is a price.”

“Five bucks?” Rebecca asked.

“Close,” Clint replied. “I will give you enough of this potion to make this person fall hopelessly in love with you for a year. But- in exchange I want Bucky here to drink it too for a year.” Rebecca’s eyes widened at the request. “That’s not asking too much. No cost of supplies. You wouldn’t owe me anything really. Just a moment to convince your brother that this is a good idea.”

“You would- you would make him drink it?” Rebecca asked, horrified.

“At least you would be asking him to do it, right?” Clint asked. “You are giving him that choice. Or would you have me add it to his drink without him knowing?” Clint asked. “Anyway, what is a year of someone’s time? Or even just a weekend? What did you want this potion for? A dance?” Clint guessed.

“I… I couldn’t. Not to Bucky,” Rebecca replied, stepping closer to her brother. Clint looked up at Bucky who didn’t look too concerned- he must have caught on to what Clint was trying to do.

“So if you wouldn’t allow it to happen to your brother… what makes you think I would allow it to happen to someone who also might not want that?” Clint asked. Rebecca stared at him before the lesson started to kick in. “Love potions strip away who you are and your choices, and replace them with the desire to appease, and love, the person who casts the spell. All your body autonomy? It's gone. And you have to hope that the person who made you drink the potion will grow bored and stop. And even when it stops- it doesn’t get much easier without time to heal and a good therapist.”

Clint stepped around the counter and walked down an aisle, looking at a row of books before grabbing one and bringing it back, setting it on the counter. “This book is filled with stories from people who were used by others, and by the spiritual world. Love potions, truth serums, spells to make you do the bidding of others, and people who used a spirit board thinking it would be fun. I think… you may benefit from reading this book.”

“How much is it?” Rebecca asked.

“It's from my private collection. As long as you bring it back in the condition I lent it, it’s free of charge,” Clint said. Rebecca nodded and picked the book back. “I know it’s October and that means it's spooky season and all the kids your age are looking at witchcraft and thinking about dabbling. And there is nothing wrong with dabbling as long as you know there is a give and a take. So. My suggestion?” Clint said. “If you want to dabble, come back and see me, and I will connect you with a person who can help you learn the safe way to do some things.”

“You don’t teach anyone?” Rebecca asked.

“I don’t- I’m not suited to be a teacher,” Clint answered. “I’m more suited towards… helping people find their paths and connecting them to others who can take that path too. So. Read this book and come back to me. Let me know if you are serious. No harm either way.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said, hugging the book. “Bucky?”

“Go ahead, I’m going to stay behind for a minute,” Bucky said. Rebecca nodded and waved before she took off. “How many times a week do you get to give that talk?” he asked.

“You don’t even want to know,” Clint replied with a laugh. “Although having you there made it easier. No one ever thinks about the consequences unless someone they love is there.” Clint sat down on his stool and picked up his mug. “If it helps and she wanted to go through with it, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“That is comforting,” Bucky admitted. “So… witchcraft?” he asked, looking around the shop.

“Pays the bills. Been burned before in the past and want to make sure it never happens again,” Clint answered.

“Sounds like an interesting life story,” Bucky replied. “You know... when you get off work, since you were such a big help to my sister and all, I could make you one of those fancier drinks you like but rarely buy. All it would cost is some stories.”

Clint smiled and picked up his mug. “Sounds awfully close to a date,” Clint commented.

“No, a date would be taking you to dinner. I was thinking about asking that after the coffee repayment,” Bucky said. He leaned forward, his arms crossing on the desk space between them. “You can say no if you aren’t interested.”

“I am very, very interested,” Clint answered. “But tonight I have to… do-” Clint waved his hand at his book. “And I can’t have coffee before I do spell work or else I will end up with another disaster.”

“Sounds like another good story,” Bucky said, starting to smile. “When are you off next?”

“Wednesday. I get off at six,” Clint answered.

“Well, would you look at that? I’m off Wednesday at six as well,” Bucky said. “Meet me over at the shop when you are done here?”

Clint tried not to look or sound too eager. “See you then,” he said as casually as he could.

The door opened and Clint saw Rebecca’s head pop back in. “Stop flirting and let’s go.”

“You are… a huge problem. Do you make potions to make little sisters less annoying?” Bucky asked, walking backwards to the door.

“Sadly, no, or else I would have used it on my older brother,” Clint replied.

“Shame,” Bucky said, wrapping an arm around his sister’s neck and pulling her in, using his free hand to ruffle her hair. “Wednesday at six!” he said before he dragged them both outside, laughing and smiling.

Clint watched them as they went and picked up his mug. He slowly took a drink, trying to keep the giddy feeling down. “Okay Clint- that was… one way to get a date,” he said. “Now where were we-” he said as he opened his spell book.

#spooky season prompts #a wild prompt appeared

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willowfield15 · 4 years

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Here's something I thought that I would share for my (once planned to be a oneshot but is now a twoshot) 5undy fic and I thought you might like the thought process that went into it <3

Also, here's the link for those that would like to read this: Is This What They Call A Soulmate?

So, the reason why I even made it in the first place was because of a friend in Discord who really likes 5undy and she got me into the ship and I am now obsessed with them :D

But at this time I was also obsessed with soulmate aus so I was like, why not try my hand at soulmate au 5undy? Long story short, I enjoyed it so much, I spedran 2k words within an hour lol but within this discord we were talking about soulmate aus and hanahaki at the same time, then the topic had changed to not following the general rules of soulmate fics. So, I was thinking at this point, I could do something with this, because the general theme of soulmate fics is that you are born with a soulmate and whatever soulmate au you're making, the born soulmates have to work for their soul bond to fully form but then I was also thinking, hmm.. What happens to those though that don't like their original soulmate or, they are born soulmates but they aren't reciprocated? Like, one thinks of the other as platonic while the other wants romantic?

Then, with this thought process in mind, I set out the fic with the general theme being of not following the rules of soulmate aus. Fundy being the one that is trying so hard to get Dream's affections but his lay elsewhere and with the disaster at their wedding having happened, it was clear that the soulbond was breaking and so with a cry of anguish, Fundy sobbed in his room, the pain of the soulbond breaking lay within the aches of chest. Being unable to handle this pain, he leaves to make Dry Waters where he meets 5up.

Now this is where the fun stuff comes up, I knew that I wanted to add in something with chocolates and a movie night, so I sat there thinking for a while, hmm, what could I do with this? Then! The idea hit! Indirect confession :D

It was so perfect to have this because I also wanted Fundy to have fears from his past relationship with Dream and everyone having left him so he fears that 5up would do the same.

Now, at this point, my music was on shuffle and quite suitably, the song: I won't give up by Jason Mraz came on and I looped it for a while after as ideas struck :D

For those that know the song then you'll know why this one gave me the most inspiration for 5up :')

(Also from here on, I'm gonna be talking about the song and why they gave me inspiration :D)

-------

When I look into your eyes

It's like watching the night sky

Or a beautiful sunrise

Well there's so much they hold

And just like them old stars

I see that you've come so far

To be right where you are

How old is your soul?

This is literally only the first verse and all I could think of while listening to this was that 5up would definitely be one of those type of people to just be so observant when it comes to people's feelings but would also look at someone's eyes to be so endearing. 'I would give up the entire world if it meant that I could see the twinkle in your eyes whenever we do something that you loved.' 5up would care so much about Fundy that he would notice even these small things for him.

For the part about How old is your soul? Was something interesting that I had in mind. For this line, it was more of a case of just noticing the sadness held within Fundy's eyes about the times when he had lost everyone in his life: Wilbur, his friends, his soulmate. With each lost, the sadness within his eyes just grew and with each sadness, grew the intensity of an age not having reached yet, the sadness forced him to grow up in a way that a soulmate could never and with that, he's trying to learn from experience. Don't get attached to others or you lose them.

Well, I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space

To do some navigating

I'll be here patiently waiting

To see what you find

These were the lyrics that gave me the ideas of the rest of the fic. 5up seems like a nice guy, no one needs to tell me that, he's nice with everything but with those he loves? Oh, it's even more. While I was listening to the song, I had the idea of 5up loving Fundy so much but would still be willing to wait for Fundy, through the days that are dark and stormy or the days that are too hard for words. He will wait for him, he doesn't pressure the male into a relationship when he knows full well how the fox is still hung up over his disaster of a relationship with Dream. Of course, 5up doesn't know any of this, he just interprets but with interpretation comes the knowledge of guessing that they aren't soulmates. He can see it within the small grey patch of fur that was carefully tucked away in his hat, peaking through the gap.

Now here's the thing, 5up hasn't met his born-to-be-soulmate yet and he knows this but despite that, he still wants Fundy. He wants Fundy even if they live forever or die together, he still wants him and whether that means having to wait a thousand years for the male to feel better, then he's willing to wait, because that's what love had done to him and he loves it.

Now here's the sweet thing that I was planning throughout all of this, they didn't have to be there for each other, they didn't have to fall for each other but they did and because of that, the stars were rewriting themselves as they spoke, a small patch of Fundy's fur had turned grey and Five had grown a small wrinkle. Because of this talk, their souls had started to form a bond, they were becoming each others chosen soulmate at the end of the fic. <3

#my writing #5undy #This was so much fun to write #I might do something similar with the chapters on Revive Me :)

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theonlygamergost · 4 years

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Natural skills-Fd!au-Part 2

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay, if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

(Also English is not my main language! So sorry for any grammatical error UwU)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This idea comes from content shared by momtra in a private discord group, we are hungry for Fd! au content so she rambles a lot about it, plus it kinda became canon sooooo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2/4

<--Previous--Next-->

Enjoy~

"I'm home ya dickheads" Will swung the front door open, getting greeted by Tommy and Techno playing Smash Bros on the couch.

"Welcome back" "Took you long enough" were the comments of the younger brothers as he slowly passed in front of the tv on purpose. "By the way, I'm not putting this shit in the cupboards, you two are doing it" he placed the bags on the kitchen counter and took out the small plant.

"Sure ill do it after I destroy this nerd" Techno was casually laying back, his controller was emitting small vibrations every now and then.

"Oh no no no Techno! If you win, which won't happen, I want a rematch- HOW?!" Tommy got up and yelled as his character got comboed into oblivion.

"Get dunked on, casual" Techno got up and pushed Tommy back onto the couch as he made his way to the kitchen.

He was towering over the plastic bags as he noticed Wilbur 's new friend. "You bought a plant? I didn't know you liked them"

Wilbur jumped a bit after the comment but regained his cool instantly, "Well, since I am more than capable of caring for myself, I thought practising caring for this plant would help me understand how to care for the two of you better since you are both no-good kids than require constant supervision"

"But plants don't need supervision... and you need to water them once every forever" Tommy got up from the couch, "W-well... yes..." He looked around in panic "Maybe you can learn something from them then!" Wilbur kept digging his grave deeper, the other two rolled their eyes.

Wilbur actually couldn't care for himself at all, yes, he helped bring some money home sometimes with his part-time, but he was chaotic, VERY chaotic.

"Oh my, what an offence" Techno stated while bringing the back of his hand on his forehead to add up to the dramatic tone, Tommy started grabbing a couple of boxes from the bags

"S-shut up Techno! I'm sure you both wouldn't be able to keep it alive not even for one week!"

"Is that a challenge?" Techno looked over his shoulders "Everything for you is a challenge Techno!" Wilbur closed his door, leaving his brothers to put the groceries away.

"Now... where should I put you.." Will looked around his room looking for a good spot for the newcomer.

The only unoccupied surface was by the window... well.. it was technically occupied, but he could have easily moved those things somewhere else.

He would have placed it on his desk, but it wasn't very spacious and it was completely filled with textbooks and papers, too messy to clean it now.

He had always complained about how small his desk was compared to Tommy's and Techno's, but he did give up the bigger rooms for his younger brothers, Phil completely gave up on a room for himself so... the complaints were never "real" complains.

Diving onto the bed, he took his phone out of his pocket and checked at the many notifications: Ten from Instagram... too many on... tik... tok? Yea.. it was...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air was warm and the sunset was breathtaking, he and his brothers were sitting down, feet dangling off of the pier, drinking some soda in comfortable silence.

At one point, Tommy started knocking on the old wood the structure was made of, but no one said anything. Which was weird in the first place since Techno got annoyed pretty quickly.

"Tommy? What are you doing?" Wilbur leaned back to look at his brother "Stop it kid" Yet Tommy was staring at... nothing... he just kept knocking and knocking and-

"Wake up lazyass, dinner's ready" Wilbur opened his eyes to find Techno, the bags under his eyes were deep and dark as always. "I was knocking on the door like an idiot for at least five minutes"

Oh...

"So... this is your new best friend?"Techno moved by the window and pointed at the plant "Oh wait, you never had a best friend in the first place" Wilbur rolled his eyes as he got up and stretched his arm, "Look who's talking".

They both left the room, closing the door behind them " Well, at least I have Skeppy, BadBoyHalo, Tapl..." Techno counted his friends on his fingers "Watch out everyone! Mister popular over here with his three friends" Wilbur spoke with a funny tone, Techno sighed.

"Who do you have then? Josh?"

"Fundy! Fundy is my friend! Also Jshlatt!" Techno looked over his shoulder, unimpressed "When was the last time you talked to Shlatt?" Wilbur opened his mouth to talk but realized that it was better if the conversation ended there, on Techno's face the grin of victory appeared.

As they entered the kitchen, Phil greeted them with his "Kiss the Cook" apron wrapped around his waist "Oh there you boys are! C'mon, dinner's ready".

They sat down and started eating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you even know what type of plant it is Wilbur?" Tommy had told Phil about Will's plant while he was napping, part because he wanted to see how Phil would roast him, part because Phil definitely knew more about plants than Wilbur.

"It's a geranium... I think?" Techno almost choked on water "You think?" making Tommy laugh even more than he was already, Phil shook his head in disapproval. "You bought a plant and you don't even know what species it is?" Wilbur shook his head "No, I know it's a Geranium, I'm not dumb" Tommy got up to get more of the delicious soup Phil had cooked, Techno fetched him his plate to fill up as well.

"I bet twenty dollars that for next Sunday it will already be dead" Tommy chuckled in the background as Will gave Techno the deadly stare. "Too scared to lose, Losebur?" and now Phil was chuckling too.

A couple of months ago, Techno and Wilbur had bet on who would win a Monopoly game since both of them were really good at it, Phil and Tommy were only there to watch.

It was a very close game but Techno ended up winning, Will thinks it was luck, Techno sustains it was skill.

Either way, from that day on Wilbur was very sceptical about betting against Techno, so he started to call him "Losebur", which of course, he deeply hated.

In a few words, it was Techno's way of calling Wilbur a bitch.

"Ok then Mister "I-tryhard-everything" Blade. I'll prove you wrong" Techno rolled his eyes at the nickname and kept eating his soup.

The rest of the dinner was uneventful... for how much uneventful a dinner with the Pandel brothers could be, that is.

#technoblade #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #ph1lza #fd!au #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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tracynotabi · 3 years

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Riptide Day 0-1

So I wasn’t going to record my time in Ohio, just because I forgot to take pictures and we weren’t really mobile, but looking back, there were just too many memories to forget and I just really wanted to share with everyone how much fun this community is, despite the fact that we were canceled.

Most people will be referred to by their names, but I’ll introduce them with their tags first. If you see this and would like your name removed/changed, please let me know.

Also, some of this is not a perfect play-by-play because I am writing purely from memory.

Also, please note, there is degeneracy.

Thursday; September 9, 2021

Starting off the day, Kevin (The Doctor) and I had basically no sleep. We woke up at 7am PDT (read: 6:30am but too lazy to get out of bed) after getting to be around 4-5am mainly because Kevin wanted to hang out with his friends in Discord before he leaves them for the whole weekend. Me? I was just procrastinating on packing.

Joey (Big Large) texts in our group chat that we never got rid of from Emerald City that they’ll be at my place in 10 minutes with Ivan (Ivayne), because they were driving up north from Elk Grove, which is about 20 minutes south of where we live.

The plan was to drive to Robert (PotatoesAreYum)’s place and then make the two hour drive to San Jose, where we would catch our 1:45pm flight.

Why did we do this? Because our tickets were canceled for Blacklisted 6 and we couldn’t get refunds so we only had credits to work from, but apparently, Sacramento Airport did not have available flights to Ohio that were by Alaskan Airlines.

We took off, leaving Sacramento and heading to Davis. Part way through, we get a text from Robert asking how far out we were, because he had to poop, but we were 11 minutes out.

Robert, the descriptive man he is, describes that his poop was ready to crown, so he was good. I thanked him for the visual, because goddamn, I needed another one after getting a Snapchat from Joey the night before of his ass hanging out in jorts.

Robert: At least I didn’t sent a picture like Joey. But if you want a picture, I could send you one. Me: I would cancel your flight.

We end up driving south to Kevin’s brother’s house, where we tried to find a Jack in the Box that was on Google Maps. We spent about five minutes looking for it before ultimately giving up and going to a Hawaiian BBQ/Donut shop. We were just as confounded as you are probably right now. Food was OK.

Kevin’s brother insisted the Jack in the Box was there but for the life of us, we could not find it. He took us to the airport and off we went to Chicago. Yes, they played Smash at the airport, because this is what Smash players do.

They also played on the flight. Sidenote: there was this very loud cat in the aisle across from me that was meowing like crazy.

Flight from Chicago to Cleveland sucked. It was hot and cramped and they took our baggage away.

We land in Cleveland at about 11pm? Parker (Boringman [Sip Mastah]) was waiting for us at our gate because he had landed an hour before us.

We go down to Ground Transportation to reach our shuttle when I read the little red tag one of the flight attendants gave me. It said that our baggage would be given to us at the end of the flight.

... Well, we had just passed through security and going down the escalator at that point.

Well, fuck.

We run into Washington at baggage claim and I’m panicking because I have no idea if our luggage is going to pop out at baggage claim. Joey, Kevin, and I go up the escalator - the WRONG escalator and we go up a flight too much. We go back down and the airport’s just empty.

Makes sense, it’s 11pm EDT and there’s not a single worker in sight.

Robert texts us saying our luggage popped out and I hate life because the wording on the ticket, I swear, implied it wasn’t going to come out of baggage claim.

We go back down, grab our luggage, say bye to Washington, and head on our to the shuttle wait area.

There, we run into Luke (Yung Quaff) and Will (Twisty) from Massachusetts. Apparently, they had been waiting for the shuttle for over an hour and it was about 11:30pm at this point in time and we’re so tired because we’ve been travelling the whole day and there were people waiting for us to goon with.

We get to the shuttle and it’s an hour to the resort. Crying inside.

We check in and our room is on the other side of the resort from Guttey and Spencer (Mr. Watch and Learn)’s room even though they provided our confirmation number when they got their hotel room. What the hell.

Seeing everyone in that room was so amazing. I can’t remember everyone there exactly, because let me tell you, that room at one point probably had more people than it should have and we most definitely violated some kind of fire hazard.

Friday; September 10, 2021

Twisty ended up staying the night in our room because we had a two bedroom, two bathroom suite with six people. Our suite had a king bed, two queen beds, and a queen pull-out from the couch. Joey and Robert - the two largest people - stayed in the king bed. Kevin and I shared a queen. Ivan had a queen. Parker had a queen. Though I believe the first night, Parker and Ivan shared the queen (?) and Twisty stayed on the pull out.

Twisty barrel-rolled the whole night.

The bed squeaked so much it was insane. I think it only really bothered me, but that was fine because the guys needed their rest more than I did.

Spencer, the god that he is, ended up driving from Long Island to Ohio, and he offered to take us to go get some groceries for his room and us at Meijer.

It seated five, but I don’t really count as a full human size-wise, so I sat at Kevin’s feet, who was sitting in the passenger seat, underneath the dashboard, while Guttey, John (Gluteus), and Luke sat in the back.

Shoutouts to Meijer. Had a ton of awesome stuff.

A bunch of wings and thighs that probably weighed as much as a chicken itself plus 2 Liter Coke for $8.

It was all a blur, but we ended up in the Chad Room at some point - the Presidential Suite, just as crews were starting.

We end up meeting Yuko, who had a very large speaker about the size of me curled up. He ended up making an entrance and there’s a video on Twitter where you can just hear Joe (Qtip) go, “I’m scared.”

Also ran into Zoey (Frost) again. :) Haven’t seen her since she left NorCal. We ended up just talking a bit, catching up, before I think Kevin needed me to go back to our room for a Wii.

I ended up walking entirely back to our room on the other side of the hotel - next to the convention center, getting out Wii, only to find out two things:

1. We didn’t have composite cables. 2. There was no other outlet.

We ended up getting kicked out after Qtip’s team won anyway.

Can’t remember anything else, other than the goon was too hard and too real but if you would like for me to include anything that happened while I was there, let me know! :)

#Riptide #Undertow #Project M #Super Smash Bros #Fuck Nintendo

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

* * *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully.

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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championrevali · 4 years

Note

You said you were looking for writing prompts so how about a reverse AU type of thing where Prince Link enters a Rito archery competition disguised as a Rito (in a rito mask because the King doesn't want him fighting or competing so he does it in secret) and beats Revali (by one point) before disappearing. Now Revali is obsessed with finding out the identity of the Rito who beat him because he may or may not want to settle the score (ie court him.)

Oml I love this so much. I kinda deviated from the og idea a little bit just to work with what was going on in my head. I hope it’s okay. Also thank you to my Revalink discord friends for helping me some ideas for how to link (hehe, link) scenes, i was mega stuck for a hot minute.

I decided to split this into two parts.

(low key should I put this on Ao3?)

Italics is sign language

Word count: 1595

Ship: Revalink, Revali/Link

"Are you sure this will work?" Link asked, surveying the merchants many elixirs.

"Positive! I've tested them me'self. That elixir there will turn you into a Rito. Twenty four hours guaranteed."

Nodding, Link dropped a bag of rupees onto the counter. "I'll take five."

The merchant grinned, inspecting his new riches. "Pleasure doing business with you young man."

Link pocketed the elixirs, and hopped up onto his rented horse. The steed pulled against the reigns willfully, and Link wished Epona wasn't as recognizable as she was.

It wasnt hard to miss his royal steed, and if he had brought her he would be caught for sure.

No, he couldn't be caught. He needed to know whether his nightly training was worth it. He needed to know if he could beat the greatest archers in Hyrule.

Seeing the tall rocky formation from the stable was a great relief to the prince, as the long ride had tired him out. He dropped his horse off, and walked to a nearby pond. He squeezed his eyes shut and drank the elixir.

He probably shouldnt have been as shocked as he was when he looked at his reflection. Golden feathers speckled with light blue covered his whole body. Lifting his hand- or his wing to his light blue beak, he opened and closed his mouth in amazement.

Backing away from the pond, he stumbled a bit on his taloned feet. "How do Ritos walk like this?" Link thought, as he started his way to the village.

The older inspected the small boy up and down. "You're quite small to he in an archery competition... are you sure you can even pull back the string?"

Links feathers puffed up, embarrassed. "Yes I can..."

The Rito laughed. "Whatever you sat kid... What's your name?"

"Link." He said without thinking.

"Ah... same name as the pretty boy prince of Hyrule huh? Not exactly a common name is it?"

Link hesitated. "Right.".

The Rito waved him past the check in, towards the range. "Good luck."

Sighing, releaved, Link went over to pick out a bow. The range supplied bows so that no ones would have an opportunity to cheat.

"These are worthless pieces of crap" a voice announced near Link.

Turning to see who had spoken, Link saw a dark blue Rito, inspecting the bows.

"My bow is far superior to any of these... used bows..." the words dripped from the dark blue Rito's mouth as if he was talking about some muck on the bottom of his shoe.

"Isn't that the point though? That we all have the same quality bows?" Link inquired, curious as to why this Rito found used bows so repulsive.

"Tsk, and I suppose you also believe that it's not about winning it's about having fun." Sarcasm leaked from every word.

Link flushed, choosing to just pick up a bow and walk away. As he walked away he could feel the blue feathered Ritos eyes burning a hole in his back.

Link lined up with the other Rito, feeling utterly dwarfed by their height. He somehow kept his julian height, and was at least a head shorter than most others around him.

The blue Rito he'd ran into before was a few spaces away from him, also looking quite short next to his competitors.

The older Rito he'd talked to earlier stepped in front of the lineup. "The rules are simple. Furthest away from the target is eliminated. Missing the target is automatic disqualification, as is cheating. Good luck."

Taking a deep breath, Link adjusted his stance. This would be where he found out whether all of his training in secret was worth it.

Adjusting his stance, Link lifted the bow. It was heavier than he was used to, but his feathers seemed better adjusted to hold the weight. He pulled back the string, and let the arrow fly.

His arrow slammed in the second outer circle. Link smiled, proud that he was still in the competition.

"Tsk." Link heard to the left of him. That Rito he'd talked to earlier was looking at his target with distaste.

He had hit in the center circle, closer to a bullseye than any of the other targets. Yet he looks disappointed.

"Oh c'mon Revali, you'll get it next time." Teased the Rito next to him.

Link looked away, this Rito was too cocky for Link's taste. He nocked an arrow, preparing for the next round.

Round after round passed, Link becoming more and more comfortable with each arrow.

At last, he and one final Rito, Revali, were the only two left standing. The Rito shot him an overexaggerated, unimpressed look.

"Well I suppose we should just pack it up now... I can't imagine this will be too difficult."

Link clenched his jaw in annoyance.

"Nothing to say oh short one? Very well then." Revali turned back towards the target, tugging on the bow string lightly.

Link shook his head, turning back to the targets as well. He wouldn't let this overconfident Rito ruin this. He took a deep breath, pulling back the string.

Thunk

The echo of an arrow slamming into a tree. But it wasn't Link's arrow.

Revali was staring in shock at his arrow, stuck firmly in a tree a few feet away from his target. Link's own arrow was planted less than an inch from the center.

He had won.

"No! That was a mistake, I demand a redo!" Revali insisted, feathers fluffed up in annoyance. It might have looked cute if Link didn't know it was him the Rito was angry at.

"Revali you missed... meaning you lose... just accept it." A Ritos voice popped up from the side.

Shooting a glare that could kill, Revali slammed the bow back into the stand, and took off in the direction of the village.

After a moment of awkward silence, Link was crowded in a large mass of Rito congratulating him. He tensed, not used to having to being so crowded. Life in the castle was mostly him doing his duty of preparing to be king someday. His assigned knight and best friend Zelda and his father were the only company he was used to having.

Revali POV

Landing in the flight range, Revali cursed under his breath. "Those ridiculous bows... they're not the right adjustments... it's their fault."

He supposed the small Rito was a good opponent. Certainly was interesting compared to the usual supposed competition he crushed.

The way he held the bow was interesting as well, it resembled the bow hold of a Hylian. Perhaps he grew up near a Hylian settlement. Though that was highly unlikely. Not many Rito strayed from the village that they grew up in. Many would leave the roost and travel for a few years, but they most always returned to the village to let their family grow.

Revali smiled as an idea came over him. “Perhaps I could convince him to a rematch. Certainly he wouldn’t want anyone questioning the legitimacy of his win.”

Climbing into his hammock, Revali was satisfied that this would solidify his win, and prove that he was still the greatest archer the Rito had ever seen.

The village the next morning was buzzing with news that the great Revali had finally met his match. It took everything in him not to stop and tell the gossipers the truth, that the yellow Rito’s win was nothing but a fluke on the fault of his bow.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Find the Rito first, then prove that it was a mistake.

“Would you happen to know where that Rito would be? I would like to apologize for my outburst yesterday.” Revali lied through his beak.

“You just missed him.” The gossiper said, looking at him with- Oh dear Hylia that better not be pity he saw in her face. “The lad checked out of the inn not an hour ago, walked in the direction of the stable.”

Nodding, the blue Rito climbed up to one of the landing decks, and flew in the direction of the stable. Surely he would be able to catch his competitor before he got too far away. After all, not all birds had his gale.

Revali was frustrated. Not only was his competitor not at the stable. But no one had actually seen him leave the stable. The only thing to go by was that apparently his name was Link.

The last sighting of him was when he arrived at the Rito stable, yet no one had seen him leave.

Eventually Revali gave up. Moved on, he claimed. If anyone asked, he would deny that thoughts of the mysterious archer graced his thoughts every day.

And it was definitely because revali was angry about his mess up, not because he wanted to know how soft the others feathers were. It definitely wasn't because he was attractive. No, definitely not.

Shakes head head, Revali turned over in his hammock. It did no good to lose sleep over someone hed never see again.

But here he was, the day before he was to depart for Hyrule castle, thinking about that elusive Rito.

As the winner of first place seemed to be long gone, Revali was supposed to show off his skills to the royalty in Hyrule castle for winning second place. Perhaps king would be impressed and offer him a place in the castle.

Who was he kidding, of course the king would be impressed, he was the great Revali after all.

Cont. In part 2!

If yall enjoyed this and wanna be tagged for part 2, lemme know in the comments.

Thank you for this prompt kasaru_chan! I had so much fun writing it, sorry again that it took so long

@kasaru-chan @silvershadowdragon39 @imofficialbabyuwu

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sineala · 4 years

Text

Captain America Corps

[This is a repost from my Patreon.] An extra review for everyone this month! I wasn't actually planning to write a review of Captain America Corps, but, then, I wasn't planning to love it as much as I did, either. Surprise! This has been the Book Club selection on the 616 Steve/Tony Discord server for the entirety of September, and it took me all month to get around to reading it, and when I finished reading it on Marvel Unlimited I immediately ran to the internet and ordered myself a copy of the trade paperback, because I needed one of my very own to cuddle. This review contains spoilers for the entirety of the series, so leave now if you don't want to know them. (It also contains a few pictures of elements that you may wish to avoid if you are sensitive to body horror in fiction.)

Captain America Corps is a five-issue miniseries written by Roger Stern, whom you may remember from such classics as his Avengers run featuring the Under Siege arc and his short but extremely memorable Cap run with John Byrne. The art here is by Phillipe Briones, who I don't think I've seen in any other book, but it's nice enough, I suppose. Anyway, it was published in 2011 and is also set then (well, sort of) -- so Bucky is still Captain America (though not for much longer) and Steve is Commander Rogers. (It is still available in trade paperback but it is technically out of print, so you should act now if you want a paper copy.) The best way I can describe my feelings about this book is thus: you know how David Michelinie's 1979 Avengers novel I read and reviewed a few months ago, The Man Who Stole Tomorrow, had an amazing premise -- Kang the Conqueror freezes Steve again and takes him to the future and the Avengers have to go time-traveling to get him back -- but it completely flubbed the actual execution of said premise? Well, Captain America Corps is a lot like that, but it absolutely, perfectly nails it. The premise isn't exactly the same, but it is definitely Peak Comics in the best zany madcap way, and the more you know about canon, the more your familiarity will be rewarded. Captain America is being kidnapped. But not just one Captain America -- Captains America across the multiverse are being stolen, and history is changing around their disappearances. A cosmic entity by the name of Tath Ki has made it his business to right these wrongs, and so to do this he kidnaps some more Captains America of his own. He ends up with a team of five: the Captain America of 1941 (Steve Rogers), USAgent (John Walker, from a small but unspecified number of years prior to 2011), the Captain America of 2011 (Bucky Barnes), American Dream (Shannon Carter, from the MC2 universe), and Commander A (Kiyoshi Morales, from several centuries in the future). So you can see already that this is going to be fun. All the Caps, in my opinion, are very well-characterized -- Steve is painfully earnest and a little inexperienced; Bucky is cynical, jaded, and he kind of can't believe that 40s Steve is looking up to him, which is really sweet; and John Walker is, of course, a complete asshole. I wanted to punch him in his stupid face multiple times, so clearly his characterization is perfect. I can't speak to Shannon's characterization because I've never read MC2, and Kiyoshi is new as of this book, but he is also excellent. So, obviously, because this is a Captain America book, there is a terrible dystopian future for them to fight -- and to show them what's at stake, Tath Ki drops them right in the middle of Dystopian Times Square, and they all get rounded up and imprisoned, whereupon they promptly stage a prison break for the various superheroes (Sam Wilson, Luke Cage, Peter Parker...) that they meet, before Tath Ki brings them back to his home base talk about it, now that he's convinced them that this is a future they have to stop.

(The law enforcement of the dystopian future includes several Americops and the Ameridroid. Remember those guys from the Cap comics? I sure do! Whee!) Tath Ki explains the situation here on this Earth, because obviously there has been some divergence. And the divergence point is this: the Avengers never found Captain America in the ice in Avengers #4. Two new women -- Broad-Stripe and Bright Star (why, yes, those are deeply unsubtle code names) -- ended up on the team instead, but, well... the Avengers just didn't work without Steve, and right when they ought to have founded the Kooky Quartet in Avengers #16, they disbanded instead. All because they'd never met Captain America. Thor went back to Asgard. Hank ended up in a psych ward. Tony died during heart surgery. (Don't worry, I'm coming back to this point later. So is the comic.) So the Caps split up to go see what they can find out about the remaining Avengers. Jan is hanging out with Sue Storm but has been warned about Kiyoshi and Shannon by the villain, and she kicks them out. Steve and Bucky break Hank out of the psych ward. And Tath Ki takes John Walker to Tony's tomb... to find that Tony's brain is missing from his body. Uh-oh. That's never a good sign.

And, oh, yes, Broad-Stripe and Bright Star are the villains of this series. And, what's more, Broad-Stripe is actually Superia, whom you will remember from the infamously terrible Cap arc The Superia Stratagem. It was really bad. It was really, really bad. But reading this has now retroactively made reading that worth it. Anyway, they're the ones who have been kidnapping all the Caps, and the Cap Corps here teams up with the local resistance force (yes, of course there's a resistance) to fight their way to the villains' headquarters. And do you know who else is at the villains' headquarters? It's Tony! I mean, it's Tony's brain. In a jar. Alive. And conscious. (And his eyeballs. I don't know why or how he still has his eyes. I'm trying not to think about that.)

The fact that Tony is now a brain in a jar is what the #book-club channel has been shrieking about with horrified glee for an entire month. If you like sad Tonys, there is no sadder Tony than this. You cannot make a sadder Tony than this. He is a brain in a jar. It's like everything about his favorite transhumanism, gone wrong. He's been there for years. He has never known Steve Rogers, and doesn't that just break your heart? He's suicidal. He begs the villain to finally kill him. He begs Hank to kill him, whether or not the good guys win. His life -- or undeath, or whatever it is -- is so awful that death is, for him, the happy ending. (We already know, canonically, that Tonys who never meet Steve are the saddest Tonys. Fantastic Four: Dark Reign #2, the issue that famously gave us Earth-3490, also gave us a look at Earth-1735, in which Steve is found very late in the superheroing game and Tony has clearly spent all the time in which they should have been Avengers together instead drinking his life away.) Sad Brain Jar Tony fills the good guys who find him -- Hank, Bucky, and Kiyoshi -- in on the villains' backstory and plans, which is basically that Superia has been stealing all the Captains America and has joined up with AIM and gotten herself a Cosmic Cube to shove them all into, and I'm sure we all guessed that that was happening because what even is a good Cap plot without a Cosmic Cube? Anyway, 1940s Steve doesn't meet Tony personally, as far as I can tell, but he does get to hear about him being alive over the comms, at least -- although it wouldn't mean much to him then, because at this point he doesn't know Tony. So all the Caps and Tath Ki and the villains end up falling into the Cosmic Cube along with the rest of the Caps that Superia stole, who are already in there. Steve merges with one of his other self, which breaks the Cube, and the alternate dystopian reality basically... vanishes from existence as everyone goes home. And Sad Brain Jar Tony is finally at peace. *sniff* Due to the mysteries of time-travel, Bucky and the two Caps after him -- Shannon and Kiyoshi -- remember what happened, but the two from before -- 1941 Steve and John Walker -- don't seem to. Except when Bucky meets up with his Steve, the Commander Rogers of 2011, it's clear that Bucky's return triggered something and Steve is starting to remember everything. Then Bucky decides to go turn himself in and face justice for the Winter Soldier's crimes. We get a brief look at Kiyoshi's time, where he's helping christen a new aircraft carrier named after Steve. And that's it. So obviously this is a completely wild plot in the way that comics are the best at, and what I really want most in life now is fic where 2011 Commander Rogers -- who we know is not the best at having feelings where Tony is concerned, because his current reaction to Tony is to scream at him about his feelings, in the snow, surrounded by all of their friends -- has to deal with the fact that he remembers being in a world where Tony is a sad brain in a jar and it all happened because he wasn't there to save him. Heroic Age-era (early Avengers v4) is one of my favorite flavors of Steve/Tony angst, as they work out how to have a friendship again (and are so bad at it that it involves a lot of very public screaming fights), and this just piles the angst right on top. (Yeah, guess what's on my WIP list now.) Objectively, it's not a perfect comic -- it's kind of a mess, but it's a mess in that glorious comics way that comics are so good at. I suspect if you're not here for the Steve/Tony you won't like it as much, but if you are... well, please enjoy pondering Sad Brain Jar Tony in his dystopian, Steve-less future.

#posts i actually wrote

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catboymingi · 4 years

Text

your majesty, the simp - veninder chap. 5

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: a little crack, fluff; eventual best friends to lovers

word count: 6.4k

warnings: no specific ones! some moments of anxiety but that is simply how it be with this fic

a/n: there is one (1) single link in this in the same manner as in bittersweet, taking to the song the lyric was taken from with the translation on hover! also shoutout to that one very specific german friend in the language discord that is always right there to answer to my (INSERT WORD) IN ENGLISH BUT I NEED THESE VERY SPECIFIC VIBES, you’re the real mvp and without you none of my chapters would ever be finished

de ved hvad vi lavede / gid at de var ligeglade / for de vil blande sig i alting - they know what we did / let’s hope they don’t care / because they want to meddle in everything

of course your alarm rang at five again, because even though you probably should have you hadn’t turned it off last night, too tired to even remember you had it set in the first place. or rather, that mingi didn’t have an alarm set for five. and now that it was ringing you couldn’t turn it off, seeing how the giant was still entirely wrapped around you, effectively caging you between him and the wall. it seemed like he hadn’t yet realised that the unpleasant sound was your alarm, because he made no effort to move, just groaning a little and holding you even tighter rather than letting you slip free.

“mingi”, you whined out, poking his side in an attempt to get him to let go so you could turn off that annoying beeping alarm that was most definitely going to give you a headache if it kept ringing. but no reaction other than him shuffling slightly.

you tried again, dragging the last i of his name in hopes that he’d maybe react if his name lasted upwards of ten seconds, though you found yourself disappointed once again.

“why is it so impossible to wake you up”, you complained, and because you really wanted the alarm to stop because you could feel the headache approaching already you shifted slightly, and then you pushed against the wall with your legs as hard as you could, hoping to be able to move the giant next to you this way.

you hadn’t expected it to work as well as it did, maybe having pushed a little too hard, because next thing you knew you were on the floor, on top of mingi, whom you had just successfully caused to fall out of bed. it wasn’t a high fall, he most definitely wasn’t actually hurt, but you still felt bad, apologising profusely, though you couldn’t keep yourself from laughing.

“don’t laugh at me”, you heard a huff from underneath you.

“just let me turn off the alarm.” he could clearly hear the pout in your voice, and first then did he realise that he was still somewhat wrapped around you and that there was an incredibly annoying background noise making this situation even less pleasant.

“you’re lucky you’re so cute”, you continued as you made your way to where your phone was and turned off the sound that had you inclined to just throw the phone against the wall to let out your frustration.

“how is getting kicked out of bed at five in the night lucky?” he’d sat up and was now looking at you with an incredulous expression on his face.

“you’re lucky because i let you go back to bed now”, and even though he didn’t exactly consider himself lucky for being allowed to sleep until the same time any normal person would he wasn’t about to complain and risk having to stay up. instead he just launched himself back into bed, looking at you expectantly.

you joined him with a sigh and laughed when his arm was wrapped around you just a few seconds after you’d laid down.

“you’re so cuddly when you’re sleepy.” you weren’t one to talk, because that was most definitely a characteristic you had as well, but right now he was the only one still incredibly tired since unlike him you were used to getting up at this time, so you could tease him without the risk of being teased back.

“like a baby.” but you weren’t complaining; it was cute, to be honest, so you gladly let him pull you into his chest. he just hummed at your teasing, seemingly too tired to even care, and you checked on your phone to make 100% sure the alarms at least until eight were turned off and you wouldn’t wake him up in less than half an hour again.

it was then that you saw the messages in ‘hyung hate club’ - apparently mingi had neglected to inform the boys that he wasn’t coming home, and they were worried, naturally, considering what kind of weather it had been the day before. so you decided to shoot them a message letting them know that he was fine, and that was a good decision in itself, but what was much less good was the fact that when you exited that chat you were faced with the reality of the girls’ group chat again. you immediately left the app and locked your phone, once more inclined to throw it against the wall.

despite how sleepy he was, the tall redhead noticed that you were tensing up, and he held you even closer ever so slightly, stroking up and down your arm with calm, rhythmic movements. it helped, but you knew you’d have to leave the chat sooner or later, and you wanted it to be sooner rather than later. wanted it to be now.

“mingi?”

“hm?” he sounded somewhat awake now and you started feeling guilty about that, because it was illegally early and you knew he wanted to sleep, but here you were, keeping him up.

“can you leave for me?”

if you hadn’t been holding on to your phone like that he might have been confused by what exactly you meant in his half-awake state, but he quickly understood what you meant. “of course. now?”

you unlocked the device in reply, opening the app before you handed it to him. he’d turned around now, laying on his stomach to be able to more comfortably hold the phone, and it was your turn to move as close to him as possible.

a few silent seconds later mingi faced you, still holding your phone.

“should i delete the chat from your list or do you want to keep it?”

you might just have to marry him. you hadn’t even thought of deleting the chat, but now that he suggested it you wanted nothing more than for it to be gone right away, and you were so glad that he was willing to get rid of it for you.

“delete.” so he did, tapping on the screen a few more times before turning back to his side and giving your phone back to you. you looked at the list of chats for a moment, relieved to see the group chat gone, but handed your phone back to the boy next to you, having selected several private chats (all the chats with your now ex-friends), and it didn’t take long for him to realise what you wanted him to do.

“block or just delete?”

“both.”

he nodded, doing as asked, and once the chats were gone he pulled you back against his chest. you didn’t even need to ask him to - he could tell this was hard on you, and while he couldn’t do much he could be there. you appreciated it a lot, because you’d always been one to feel more comforted by physical contact rather than just words, especially since you often didn’t even want to talk about what was wrong in the moment it affected you most. and even though mingi barely even knew you he instinctively managed to comfort you the way you needed to be comforted.

“try to sleep some more”, mingi told you with his deep, calm voice, and because you didn’t want to have to deal with your anxiety yet you did, the tall boy wrapped around you and making you feel safe.

you were surprised that you’d actually managed to sleep some more when your 8am alarm rang; you’d expected yourself to just lay there anxiously and trying to reduce your nervous heartbeat until it beat at the same rate as the redhead’s, but it seemed like your body had been desperate for any small break it could get.

you were greeted with a low “good morning” once your alarm was turned off, and “morning” you said back. his arms were still around you and you were weirdly happy about that, enjoying the warmth he provided. but you knew you’d have to get up, and soon at that, since it wasn’t weekend yet and you’d have to go to university at some point.

“do you want fruit loops again?” you could feel him nod against your head, so you let yourself slide off the bed and onto the ground before getting up and fetching your breakfast.

“with milk or do you have taste now?”

“i’ve always had taste”, you heard mingi huff from the bed behind you, resulting in a grin spreading across your face, “it just got better since yesterday.”

“so no milk.” and even though you weren’t facing him yet he could hear the smile in your voice, and he felt a weird mix of pride and happiness because he was the one that’d made you smile.

his expression showed these emotions as well, though you weren’t able to interpret the grin on his face when you sat back down next to him.

“please don’t tell me there’s drool on my face”, you groaned as you handed him the bowl, and first then did his expression change from whatever it had been before to a surprised one.

“why would you?” his wide, curious eyes and messy bed hair were way more adorable than they should be considering he was also sporting abs and no shirt.

“because you’re staring at me all weird!”

it seemed like he hadn’t even realised that he was doing that, though, because as soon as you called him out he averted his gaze, staring at the fruit loops instead as if he’d never seen anything more fascinating in his entire life. you didn’t fully understand his reaction, but you were still somewhat dazed from having woken up not too long ago, so you didn’t ask about it. instead you followed his example and gave the fruit loops in your own bowl your undivided attention as you started eating.

the first few minutes were spent in silence, just crunching at each other as if it was a valid method of communication - you were morse-crunching, except neither of you knew morse code, so you were probably just keysmashing in morse -, until your fake conversation was interrupted by a real question.

“what language was the movie in yesterday? like, the voices.”

“finnish. i watched it like that as a child, too, so that might be why i fell asleep so fast.” you let out a short, embarrassed laugh because you’d just straight up fallen asleep on him while he was watching the movie that you had chosen. but he didn’t think it was embarrassing at all; quite the opposite, he thought it was cute.

“it sounded nice. though i felt like they said twice the amount of words than the subtitles showed.” the last statement was a little bit of a whine, because mingi was scared he’d missed something just because he’d been dependent on the subtitles rather than being able to understand what was being said.

“i checked the subtitles a little in the beginning to make sure they were good, don’t worry”, you reassured him, your voice laughter-adjacent, “finnish words are just extraordinarily long.”

and again he seemed actually curious about the language you’d grown up with, asking you to tell him the longest word you could think of.

“it’s probably by far not the longest”, you warned him, “but i think käyttämättömällämmeköhän is long? don’t quote me on that though.”

“what does it mean?” his eyes trained to your face as he waited for the translation.

“unused even by us? it’s hard to translate, there’s a lot of grammar in there.”

“that’s one word?” he couldn’t believe it, refused to believe it because that was so many different things going on at once and you just claimed half a sentence was a single word in finnish.

“yeah. we stan linguistics”, you joked, trying to hold in your laugh as his completely dumbfounded expression.

“but… how?” it seemed like he was unable to wrap his head around the fact that so much could be said with a single word, so you tried to break it up into its components, and a delighted ‘aah!’ left his mouth when he finally understood it after the third attempt.

“you’re learning so much already”, your voice half teasing, half impressed.

“because you know so many things to teach me, i need to keep up with you somehow!”

“don’t act like you don’t know a bunch of things that i don’t know! aren’t you like, a maths major?”

and though it hadn’t been your intention to get this result, you just couldn’t decline when mingi offered you to teach you some maths in return because he seemed equally as excited about his subject as you knew you were about yours.

“only if you keep geometry away from me. that’s a hard no”, you let him know, and he nodded right away.

“no geometry! got it.” then he continued crunching, incredibly satisfied with himself, and you were convinced that this was the first time that you’d ever heard someone chew on their fruit loops in an audibly self-satisfied way.

the rest of the morning was spent comfortable like that, as well - you finished up breakfast, then got changed and went to the boys’ place (though you took a little detour because the weather was much nicer than it had been the night before and the air smelled fresh), where you hung out until you had to go to university. the giant insisted on giving you a hug before you each left for your own class, and a hug as soon as he saw you at lunch, and then he all but kicked wooyoung off the bench so there’d be space for you next to him, and then he kept sitting shoulder to shoulder while you ate. you were painfully oblivious to the knowing glances the two of you got from your friends while mingi was once more about to use the cutlery to commit a crime. instead he focused on aggressively eating, claiming he was just hungry when you shot him a slightly worried look.

“oh!”, you exclaimed in response, and then, “take some of mine! i’m not that hungry!” and before he could protest you were holding a spoonful of rice to his face and telling him to say ‘aah’. he shook his head because he knew if he’d let you feed him the boys would never let him live this down, but when you looked at him with big pleading eyes and a small pout on your face before slowly lowering the spoon, thinking he didn’t want your food, he grabbed your hand and guided it to his now wide open mouth.

while the boys were trying their best not to laugh at mingi’s completely whipped expression, you were focused on feeding him the rest of your food, because you really weren’t hungry anymore and your brain had apparently decided that he needed to be babied.

feeding people was a weird situation for you, as was the majority of affection that koreans seemed to not think twice about displaying towards their friends. there was a weird level of dissociation between what you were willing to display towards others and what you were willing to accept from others, and the standard varied from act to act, as well - with holding hands, you’d accept if someone else grabbed yours, but you wouldn’t grab someone else’s, while with feeding it was the other way round, which confused the redhead as he tried to feed you a piece of his dessert and you refused to accept it.

when he’d finally given up on his attempts to give you some food you looked at him apologetically and said: “that’s a boyfriend thing.”

“but you fed me?” he sounded so confused, and you could really understand it, because these double standards didn’t exactly make a lot of sense.

“that’s not a boyfriend thing”, and at the complete lack of understanding apparent not only on his but also the other boys’ faces, “i know it’s fine to feed friends, like, technically. but it feels like when others feed me, that’s way too intimate to just do it? because my parents would never just randomly feed even each other, the standard is so different. it’s weird.” and you laughed to mask your embarrassment, because this really didn’t make any sense at all if you didn’t grow up with this experience.

“it is”, hongjoong confirmed, but he was grinning, obviously somewhat amused. “but it’s also kind of funny.”

“why’s it funny?” now it was you who didn’t understand, but the boy was quick to elaborate.

“you’ve been feeding mingi half your meal but as soon as he tried feeding you you got all flustered, it’s cute.”

him calling you out like this didn’t exactly help to make you less flustered though, hiding your face in the boy in question’s shoulder and whining out. the chorus of ‘cute’s you got as a reaction only made it worse, and now you were trying to hide your entire upper body behind mingi.

“it’s not my fault! finns just don’t show affection like that. i don’t think my parents have ever actually hugged in public, so of course i think it’s weird that you just run around acting all cutesy all the time!”

now your shelter from the others’ teasing glares got worried, though, because he had very much been acting all cutesy with you and there was no guarantee that you hadn’t secretly been weirded out about that, and he moved so he could look at your face.

“you think i’m weird?” and maybe he shouldn’t be admitting to having acted cutesy with you when the boys were all sitting there (they’d barely witnessed anything, so he just outed himself, basically), but his worry about having made you uncomfortable was stronger than his embarrassment.

“no!”, you were quick to disagree. “you’re not weird. you’re cute.”

it was near impossible to not tease the two of you, but somehow the boys managed to hold it in, maybe partly because they were scared that it would become weird for you if they commented on it too much. while teasing was always fun, none of them ever wanted to genuinely make someone feel bad - so they formed a silent agreement that this would be off limits. that didn’t mean they wouldn’t tease mingi about it, though, and yeosang was the first to do so.

while his victim was busy giving you heart eyes he got out his phone, tapping around a little before sending a screenshot to their group chat. the others quickly did the same, knowing they might regret this the moment the only boy that hadn’t joined in saw that all seven of them had changed his contact name to ‘simp’. but he was very much whipped for you, obvious to everyone but the two of you.

“how was class?”, the redhead now asked you, body turned towards you completely to show you that you had his undivided attention.

“it was okay. though i’m still anxious whenever i see them, but that’s just how it is.” and then, because you didn’t want to talk about it further: “how was yours?”, a question directed at all eight of the boys.

the rest of lunch was spent happily chatting away about whatever came to mind, until mingi reminded you of the pyjama party you, in all honesty, had already forgotten about.

“friday to saturday for the pyjama party or saturday to sunday? which one’s better?”

your attempt at protesting was shut down immediately with a “but you promised!”, and because he seemed so excited and because you might have been whipped for him too, just a little bit, you sighed but agreed.

"saturday would be better for me", you informed him then, "how about you all?"

since no one had any objections you decided that you'd come over saturday around noon and that then the fun would start, as wooyoung claimed, which left everyone but him worried that fun was the last thing you'd call whatever would happen. but you were somewhat excited, admittedly, because you’d not been to a pyjama party that wasn’t held with the intention of getting into someone’s pants since you were like twelve, and though it maybe was childish you just wanted to have a pillow fight or something.

lunch was over soon after, and to your surprise your afternoon class that day was cancelled, so that you were able to go home already. though you weren’t sure if mingi had intended to study with you again that day you texted him, saying that class got cancelled and that he could come over as soon as his was over to study if he wanted to.

you made use of your extra freetime and finally got the groceries you’d neglected to get this entire week, and then just relaxed a little, reading one of your moomin books (that you had to search for because your bookshelf was both incredibly full and incredibly messy because it was so stuffed) with a long neglected playlist of finnish music running.

by the point mingi came over the book was long neglected, your room instead having become a single person-disco as you sang along. you felt more relaxed than you had all week, and though you tried to not embarrass yourself when you opened the door for him your attempt at that quickly failed when you registered that the chorus of your current song was playing in the background, joining in as you dragged the surprised redhead into your flat before resuming your silly dancing while still holding on to him, your energy forcing him to at least somewhat move along to the beat.

“tanssi mun kanssa!”, you laughed at him while attempting to get him to actually dance, and though he had no idea what on earth was going on he did - but unlike you it seemed like he actually knew how to dance, taking the lead as he swirled you around in the little space you had.

“so what exactly were we studying just now?”, mingi asked once you’d dropped to the floor out of breath, laughing.

“cultural differences in dance culture? no idea”, you replied, laughing just as much.

“what’s the difference?”

“if you’re representative for koreans and i’m representative for finns we can conclude that koreans are much better at it”, you informed him, “but finns are more likely to start an embarrassing dance party.”

“a sec.” and without explaining anything more he got out his phone, typing for a moment before locking it again and smiling at you.

“hm?” you cocked your head in curiosity, but all he told you was that it was a surprise and that it was time to start studying now. you weren’t pleased, but you nodded, soon forgetting about it as you became fully immersed in the topic.

he stayed rather late (for a study session, at least), leaving around ten after several hours of trying to understand the topic which you only interrupted in order to eat.

“you’re doing great!”, you praised him as you said goodbye, “it seems like you’re getting a hang of it really quickly.”

“that’s just because you got like a dozen different examples for everything, so at one point it clicks even for me.” the giant was getting shy at your praise, though he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it. it made him feel accomplished, in a way - he wanted to impress you, and it seemed like he might if he continued like this.

“i think you’re just smart”, you waved him off before hugging him. “get home safe?”

and because he was an embarrassing idiot taken aback by your hug, he replied: “you too”, even though you were literally standing in front of your building.

“i’ll try not to break my neck on the way back in.” but the smile you gave him was genuine, not teasing, and he nodded. then he took off, walking backwards and waving at you, almost running into a street lamp when he turned around to actually see where he was going. that made you laugh, waving at him one last time before you went back inside.

the next two days were spent similarly, studying with mingi after university, though you opted for a café near university on friday since both of you only had a morning class and thus wouldn’t be getting lunch there together.

“what do you want?”, with his head tilted to the side in curiosity, and even though you’d spent quite some time with him this past week you still couldn’t understand how someone his height could be so cute sometimes.

“you’re not going to pay for me.” he still insisted on paying for your train tickets whenever you took the train together, and you plain refused to let him pay for this, too.

“but maybe i’ll accidentally order two drinks even though i only wanted one and beg you to please drink the other one so i didn’t waste my money on it” was how he let you know that he would pay for your drink, whether you liked it or not.

“why are you like this”, you whined out in reply, but told him your order nonetheless.

“find us a seat? i’ll come once the drinks are done.”

you did as asked, though you wouldn’t have if you’d known that he planned on getting more than just your drinks. when he returned with a small tray you smiled at him, moving the notes you’d looked through while waiting out of the way, but that smile became a fake-annoyed expression when you saw the piece of cake he’d gotten. you knew he wouldn’t sit there and just eat by himself, so at least part of the money spent on the cake was spent for you.

“you’re the worst”, you informed him while rolling your eyes, even though you knew he wouldn’t care about that.

and he didn’t, just grinning at you as he said: “i hope you like chocolate.”

“you’re impossible.”

“i’m impeccable.”

“let’s see if you still think so when i get out the big guns”, you teased, the big guns being contextual prestige related to different lects.

as expected, he did no longer think so when he had to understand not only the different lects (which you’d tried to teach him these past few days) but also that the prestige varied from situation to situation and that some people, depending on context, would choose to speak a usually less prestigious lect because of other factors.

“i’m going to die”, he groaned out, getting some cake because he really needed emotional support sweets right now.

“you’re doing fine”, you tried to reassure, patting his arm and smiling comfortingly. you were impressed he even managed to learn this much in such a short amount of time at all, so struggling with one topic that combined a lot of different ones wasn’t something that undermined the fact that you were dealing with a genius.

“do you want to take a break?”

you knew he wouldn’t ask for one (you had noticed that during your past study sessions, that he wouldn’t even tell you that he needed to use the bathroom but would dart off as soon as you told him to rest a little), but he was obviously grateful for this one. he enjoyed the silence that settled as both of you sipped on your drinks, eating a little cake every now and then, but something had been on his mind ever since he first saw the messages you’d been sent from the people that claimed to be your friends. and though he didn’t want to upset you he knew he’d end up asking sooner or later anyway, so he might as well do it now.

“why do your friends hate you so much?”, mingi asked, voice silent and calm to avoid upsetting you any more than this question probably already would. but you surprised him when you seemed rather unbothered.

“they kinda called dibs on you at that party where we met”, you explained, shrugging.

“dibs?”

“yeah. yeah. they’ve been arguing over who gets to have you the entire night, that’s why i was outside in the rain. and now they’re annoyed you’re spending time with me because i didn’t even call dibs in the first place.”

“so they hate you because you’re talking to someone they decided they had some kind of claim on?”

“mhm.”

“so if i stopped talking to you, in theory, they’d leave you alone?” the tall boy hated this thought, but he hated the thought of him being the reason for all these issues you had even more. you were quick to shut him down, though, not wanting him to even consider what he was obviously hinting at.

“don’t even think about it. that’s not going to help at all, and i don’t want you to stop, so drop that thought right now.” and while you pretended to be calm the thought of him just dropping you again when you’d just started to genuinely really enjoy his presence had you panic slightly.

“how wouldn’t it help? they’re mad because we talk, so if we don’t they have no reason to be mad anymore. or am i wrong?”

“you are. it’s not just about me talking to you still, it’s mainly about… control? they told me they don’t want me to talk to any of you and i did it anyway, and now they want to make sure i never do that again. they don’t like it when people aren’t all submissive for them.”

to you this was normal behaviour from them, an attitude you’d witnessed countless times and that had left you doing your best to kiss their asses, but he wasn’t used to people acting like that, and it, quite frankly, was quite appalling. he knew it wasn’t something he could change, though, and he admittedly also wondered why you hadn’t called dibs back then when the others all obviously had. while it shouldn’t be his concern at all he did worry a little - what if you thought he was ugly?

“who were your dibs on, though?” he couldn’t help his curiosity.

“no one. i think it’s stupid to call dibs on someone as if they didn’t have any say in the matter.”

“it is, yeah.” he refused to think about why this answer relieved him - it was just because you were a decent person respecting people’s emotions and definitely not because your lack of dibs wasn’t because you thought he was ugly, definitely. or maybe the guys were justified in changing his contact name to ‘simp’. just maybe.

after that little serious conversation you continued studying until it was getting dark, at which point you decided to call it a day. he was the first to buy his train ticket, but when he turned to you with a grin he was unsuccessfully trying to suppress on his face you knew he’d gotten you your ticket instead.

“i accidentally clicked on your station because that’s where we went all week”, he told you, but it was obvious that it had not at all been an accident.

“you’re the worst”, you sighed out, but you were secretly glad that he’d done this because you’d just have walked otherwise, something you hadn’t exactly been looking forward to doing in the dark. you watched as mingi got his own ticket - the right one this time -, then you hugged goodbye before each getting in the train to go home.

it had become a habit that he’d text you as soon as he was home, because if he hadn’t messaged you an hour after leaving you’d text him, worried, asking if he was okay and if he got home safe. then you’d text some more, about anything that was on your minds, before sending a final goodnight text. the same happened today, as well, with mingi being the first to go to bed since you had some coursework to do still.

[mingi]: ill be there tmrw at 10. 11?

[mingi]: goodnight

and before you could protest he’d gone offline, a sign that he wasn’t going to see any possible protests before the next morning, at which point it’d be too late to save him the pain of getting up early anyway.

[y/n]: both are fine, sleep well

he was there at 11, naturally, but you were glad about the extra hour because that meant you were able to finish an essay due monday at noon and still had enough time to prepare a bag with things you’d need for the pyjama party.

“come in”, you greeted the redhead as soon as you’d opened the door for him, “i still need to choose a pyjama.”

“choose? why not just… bring the pyjama you wear?”

“because i don’t want to embarrass myself!” for some reason you felt like your choice of pyjama was incredibly important, like you’d embarrass yourself if you didn’t wear the perfect one.

“don’t be silly. it’s just a pyjama”, he laughed at your dilemma, and you scoffed at him.

“unlike you i can’t just run around shirtless and call it a day”, and because you were still on the quest for the perfect pyjama you missed the embarrassed expression on his face.

“it’s not like i had a lot of options!”, he defended himself, “your shirts definitely wouldn’t have done. unless you’re into the crop top kind of look, i guess.”

“that would definitely be interesting”, you laughed, then pulled out some clothes as you finally seemed to have decided on what to wear.

“we can go now. should we get snacks on the way?”

“pretty sure seonghwa and hongjoong have already organised an entire buffet”, he let you know, and you nodded while grabbing your bag, making your way to the door with mingi following suit.

and he’d been right - the table was covered in all kinds of food when you arrived at their place, though a quick look told you that you most likely wouldn’t touch about half of them.

“i probably should’ve mentioned i’m a vegetarian”, you said slightly embarrassed when yunho, who’d been the first to greet you and the other giant, told you that you absolutely had to try seonghwa’s kimchi.

“oh! i’m sorry.” the man with the infamous kimchi was now in the living room as well, obviously feeling somewhat bad about the fact that so much of the prepared food included meat.

“it’s fine! i know it’s not like, common, so i know how to work around it”, you tried to reassure, and the other seemed to accept that as an answer, telling you that if you needed any more food they’d gladly get it for you.

“why are all of you so nice?”, your reply a whine, but the boys just laughed. maybe you would’ve been a little embarrassed about how kind everyone was being, but wooyoung interrupted by entering the living room with a loud “is it fun time?”, to which jongho quickly yelled back: “no!”

that was not an answer the boy would accept, though, and it very soon became fun time as you played all kinds of games that they were much better at than you since you’d never or barely ever played them before.

“it’s time for a challenge!”, yeosang declared, and though you tried protesting (because you knew you’d lose) you were outvoted on the grounds of democracy, so you just had to accept your fate.

“what happens to the loser?” you really wanted to know what would inevitably await you, but the only information you got was that the male had a surprise penalty in his room that he’d organised when the others were busy, so they didn’t know either. that only made it fun, he claimed, but you were certain that he was the only one who was going to have fun with this.

the challenge was a game you’d played before, and for a moment you hoped, begged the heavens that you might actually win, but of course life wasn’t that kind. everyone cheered when you were the first to lose, and when yeosang went to get the penalty you were inclined to stop him with all the power you held in you. before you could make a move he was already back, though, a terrifyingly familiar bag in his hands.

“please tell me that’s not what i think it is.”

the grin on his face destroyed all your hope, however, and you knew you would regret ever agreeing to this pyjama party after latest two seconds of having it in your mouth. you were impossibly bad at eating spicy food, and of course the penalty was one of the spiciest things you’d ever tried in an act of youthful recklessness at age sixteen. ever since then, you’d plain refused to touch anything that brand produced, but it seemed like now your fate was in the hands of whatever higher power controlled your tastebuds.

“you’re going to kill me”, you let him know before reluctantly taking the bag he held out for you. you pretended you weren’t able to open it, hoping to that way get out of having to eat it, but jongho volunteered to assist in opening it way too eagerly. there was no escaping, and you took one of the snacks, smelling it, examining it, turning it to look at it from every angle, trying to buy yourself more time and maybe get the boys to have mercy with you. and just as you were about to put the horror machine in your mouth mingi grabbed your hand, guiding it to his own instead and eating the snack you’d so dreaded to eat. it was apparent by his reaction that he didn’t necessarily enjoy this, either, but he’d done it anyways, and once the source of his suffering was swallowed he informed your friends that he’d taken your penalty and that you’d not have to eat it anymore. they had to accept it since they hadn’t previously agreed that others taking the loser’s penalty wasn’t allowed, and the redhead gave you a slightly pained but still somewhat proud smile.

and now there was no denying it anymore, song min gi was a simp for you and you only.

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chronicallylatetotheparty · 4 years

Text

Float Like A Butterfly Ch.3 Unwanted Burdens

Summary:

Marinette and Adrien are trapped in cages of duty and resentment.

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"Don't you think Adrien's been acting weird?" Marinette asked.

Alya glanced from Kitty Section readying their instruments to her best friend. She wanted to reassure Marinette that her concerns were just her imagination running away with her again. But Alya noticed it too.

"You mean with Chloe?"

Marinette's nose wrinkled at the mention of Adrien's first friend. But her worry quickly came back. She never realized how little time they spent together until they started spending more. It wasn't what she would call a positive development. They seemed to argue a lot more now.

Alya looked at Marinette and knew they were thinking the same thing. Going over what she overheard in her head.

"I'm no good at being nice, Adrien."

"You don't have to be nice. You just have to not be cruel."

That was after Chloe had acted like her usual self with Sabrina. Alya didn't know if she agreed with Adrien or not but she never told anyone. It was a private conversation. And Chloe sounded oddly... vulnerable.

"They've been acting weird," Marinette conceded. "But there's something else that's... off about him." Her eyes widened. "What if it's something I did? Or something his fans said online? Or something worse!?"

Marinette blinked as she realized she was leaning into Alya's space. Stepping back Marinette slowed her words down to a less panicky level. "Could you check with Nino, please. Just, of course, you know, casually."

As if she summoned him with talk of his best friend Nino showed up. Frowning at his phone.

Giving Marinette a worried look Alya complied. "Nino, any word from Adrien?"

Nino bit his lip. "He can't make it."

"What!?" Marinette winced as her yelp attracted unwanted attention from the rest of the ship. "Did he say why?"

"Something about messing up on the piano?" Nino glanced back at his phone, expression shifting into a glare. "It's just like Adrien's old man to be a killjoy the five seconds he spends with my bro!"

"Hey," Forcing some optimism into her voice Alya placed a reassuring hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. "I'm sure Adrien will sort it out. It's not the first time his dad has kept him from hanging out with us.

Nino wasn't convinced but he nodded anyway and let Alya kiss his cheek. He also noticed that Adrien was acting weird. But no matter how Nino asked, Adrien always evaded the question. It was wearing on his patience.

"Captain Anarka speakin' to ya! So, how's it comin' along me young pirates!"

Marinette started as Juleka's maman appeared out of nowhere. She was loud and jovial and apparently didn't like cleaning? Maybe it worked for the Couffaines but Marinette's mind needed a bit more order to function properly.

Still, it was her home, er, ship so Marinette could appreciate Anarka's unconventional hospitality. A smile formed slowly as Captain Couffaine's exuberance pulled her and her friends out of less pleasant thoughts.

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

Adrien played the piano mechanically. Feeling his skin burn under his Father's stern gaze. When he wished for more time together Adrien didn't mean being judged in person.

Despite the focus Gabriel's mere presence demanded, Adrien's mind wandered. Juleka had extended an open invitation to the entire class for the music festival. That was the first time one of his... not-exactly-close friends had actually invited him over.

And he was stuck here.

Adrien winced as a discordant note echoed from where his finger slipped on the wrong key. Eyes glancing fearfully at his father.

"I've heard enough." Gabriel raised his hand to forestall any more noise from Adrien. "Are you sure you're practicing, Adrien?"

Standing, Gabriel showed his back to his son. Not looking at Adrien when speaking to him. Voice full of accusation and annoyance.

In other words, Gabriel acted the same as always.

"... I'm just doing the same exercises over and over again..." An idea came to him. "I think I could make better progress if I could just play with other musicians." Adrien forced his tone to be hopeful, trying to reason with his father. "After all, music is meant to be shared with other people don't you think?"

"We Agrestes are soloists." Gabriel crushed Adrien's argument dismissively, deigning a glance at his son. "Not mere group members. I suggest you rehearse your piece some more. You'll play it for me again later today."

His heartbeat spiked. "But- Father! You promised that I could attend my friends' concert!"

"Not after that performance you've just given."

But you promised! Adrien's jaw clenched to keep the words down. There was no point in arguing with someone who didn't listen.

"Which is probably due to their influence.

His hands trembled. You don't know them! You don't know anything!

"You need to refocus, Adrien."

With that Gabriel and Nathalie, who Adrien had forgotten was even there, left without a backward glance.

"You need to refocus, Adrien."

Adrien sat their as a growing pressure built in his chest. Clawing, demanding, yelling. Jerking to his feet Adrien paced, trying to get his body and mind to quiet down.

"You need to refocus, Adrien."

Rubbing at his eyes Adrien sent a brief text to Nino. Forcing his breath to even out. He didn't feel like talking at the moment.

"You need to refocus, Adrien!"

That done Adrien snatched up his basketball and threw it at the net. His piano disappearing into the floor. Grabbing the ball as it bounced he threw it into the net again. His piano rising from its hiding place.

"YOU NEED TO REFOCUS, ADRIEN!"

Again he threw the ball.

Down it went.

Again into the net.

Up it came.

Again.

Down.

Again.

Up.

Again.

Down.

Again.

Up.

Again.

Down.

Again.

Up.

Again.

Down.

Again.

Up.

Again.

Down.

Again.

Up-

"YOU NEED TO REFOCUS, ADRIEN!"

Adrien shoved the ball forcefully away from him. Not caring what it hit. Grabbing the remote he turned on his TV and raised the volume as high as it would go.

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

Marinette stared openmouthed at the massive shockwave that came from Luka's electric guitar. By comparison she was only mildly surprised when police helicopters appeared overhead.

Sabrina's dad pulled up with a megaphone. "Mme. Anarka, are you completely out of your mind!?"

M. Raincomprix was on a first name basis with Juleka's maman? That probably wasn't good.

"It's the National Music Festival today, Officer Roger! My crew's allowed to play whatever they want!" Anarka projected over the speakers.

Definitely not good. Marinette tried to de-escalate the situation. "Uh, maybe we could turn the volume down a bit, Captain? Then there'd be no more problem, right?"

"No! Out of the question!" Anarka dismissed immediately. "I didn't name my galleon Liberty for nuthin' y'know! It's a matter of principle!"

From there things quickly spiraled. Anarka's stubborn refusal to listen to anything Roger had to say prompting him to pettily give more and more tickets. Each addition enraging her so much her voice stuck in her throat.

Anarka stalked away from the others on deck once Officer Roger and the other police left. Face red and fists clenched.

Marinette looked at her friends, all of them worried. Especially Juleka and Luka.

Luka. "Are you okay?" Marinette asked.

"Um, yeah." Luka gave a wan smile. "It isn't the first time ma's gotten mad at the cops."

That didn't reassure Marinette the way he probably meant it to. "So, this, happens often?"

"I wouldn't say often." Luka's gaze landed on Juleka, currently being comforted by Rose. Appreciation lit up his eyes. "It's harder on Juleka. I help where I can but I can't stay with her all the time. Rose has been amazing the past year. She stays with Juleka if me and ma are working."

"You have a job?" Marinette blinked in surprise.

"I have to. Maman can't pay for-" Luka stopped. Apparently realizing that he might've said too much. "Anyway I help her out... Doesn't leave much room for hanging out, though."

His gaze travelled across the deck. Taking in all of Marinette's friends. For the first time she realized no one from Luka's school was there.

"That's... You're a good brother, Luka." Marinette felt she understood the older boy a bit better. Even if the Couffaine's as a whole were even more unclear.

He shrugged in a 'anyone would do it for family' kinda way. "I-"

Dark, purple-ish fluid flowed from the helm, covering the entire Liberty.

Marinette went cold. "Oh, no!"

Sure enough, Anarka was akumatized.

Captain Hardrock wanted to destroy the music festival until only their song remained. Amid the fear and uncertainty of being in the power of an akuma without her transformation, Marinette felt pride that her friends rejected Captain Hardrock without hesitation.

Marinette's mind raced as she struggled to find a way out of the chains that bound her with Luka. No one else was coming. She was the only hero Paris had to protect it! She had to find a way out! She had to-

Tikki peered at Marinette from her purse. Smiling in relief, Marinette gave her a subtle nod. Stealthily, Tikki phased through the lock, chains falling with a clatter.

"Wow! How'd you do that?" Luka gave her a wondering look.

"Uh, I, uh- With this!" She held up the guitar pick he'd given her.

"Your amazing," he praised, helping her up. "A real magician, Marinette."

"Uh, you think so? Oh, it was nothing. Uh, amazing? Really?"

" 'Scuse me but some of us are still chained up here, y'know," Alya interrupted.

"Right!" Marinette placed herself between her friends line of sight and the locks. Obscuring Tikki from view. Soon everyone was freed.

"How're we getting off this crazy ride, dudes?" Nino asked.

Luka looked around the inside of the Liberty, which wasn't as transformed as the outside. "I have an idea."

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

"Few! That was close!" Tikki looked out from Marinette's purse at the others who made it off the Liberty in makeshift rafts.

They were on the opposite side of the Seine. Luka, Juleka, Rose and Ivan. Marinette gazed after the Liberty. Alya, Nino and Mylene still onboard. Liberty's chains catching them before they could take off.

Anxious, persistent defeat loomed in the back of Marinette's mind. Threatening to drown her. She pushed it back with difficulty. "Tikki, I have to save my friends!"

"But last time you struggled without someone to help you," Tikki pointed out. Concern for Marinette's wellbeing overriding any other considerations. "You should go to Master Fu for help."

Conflicting emotions flickered across Marinette's face. "... You're right," she agreed, resigned.

Quickly, Marinette found a hiding spot and transformed. With a backward glance at the destruction wrought by Captain Hardrock, Ladybug reluctantly swung towards the Guardian.

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

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pick an ally you can trust to fight alongside you in this mission. Choose wisely. Such powers are meant to serve the greater good. Once the mission is over you will retrieve the Miraculous and return it to me."

Ladybug was only half listening. Engrossed by the only Miraculous that lit up in her mind.

No. Please not his. Please.

But no matter which Miraculous she looked at her gaze was drawn back to his ring. Hand trembling, stomach turning itself inside out, (Ladybug didn't want anyone else) her fingers closed around Chat Noir's ring. Once it was in her hand she pressed it to her chest. It was the only thing she had of him.

Master Fu's eyes widened at her choice. "Are you sure, Marinette?"

Ladybug just nodded.

Staring at her for a moment, he finally spoke. "The Miraculous of the Black Cat is the most dangerous out of all in existence. Whoever you choose must put others above himself."

The words entered but did not impact her. Like a stone being thrown into waters too turbulent to make ripples. "Of course... Master Fu."

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

"Luka Couffaine, this is the Miraculous of the Black Cat. Which grants the power of Destruction. Once our mission is complete you will return it to me."

Eyes wide in disbelief, Luka carefully took the offered Miraculous. Wonder quickly morphed into confusion, however. "Wait. Black Cat? But what about-"

A ball of green energy shooting out of the ring interrupted him. When he lowered his hand at the fading light a small, cat-like being floated in front of him. Its ears drooping and eyes sad.

Luka took an involuntary step back as a requiem filled his head at the sight of it. Fingers twitching for his guitar.

"You're not-" Green bubbles erupted from its- his mouth, gaze turning toward Ladybug. "Why isn't it-" Again green bubbles came out before he could finish.

Ladybug gave the small, sad, cat-like being a pained look. "We need your help, Plagg. Paris needs your help... Please."

An unspoken understanding passed between Ladybug and Plagg. A conversation Luka was not privy to.

With a nod Plagg sized Luka up. "Well," he said with a mocking grin. "You're not much to look at. Name's Plagg."

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

With every misstep Ladybug reminded herself that Panthera was not Chat Noir.

That she couldn't expect him to function on the same level as someone who had his Miraculous for over a year. Couldn't expect someone she only just met to know her movements as well as someone who'd fought by her side since the very first akuma. Someone who'd never held a staff to wield it as expertly as someone who'd spent hours trying to figure out every possible use.

Ladybug reminded herself of this every time Panthera was caught in Liberty's chains or lost his staff to Captain Hardrock's swordplay or held back when he should push forward.

Her earrings beeped insistently, reminding her that time was almost up. Finally, Ladybug managed to trap Captain Hardrock to the helm with her Lucky Charm. Cataclysm destroying only the compass instead of the entire ship like she planned. Luckily, it turned out that's all they needed and she purified the akuma.

As the Miraculous Cure set everything right Ladybug turned to Panthera and- Luka was grinning at her. Relief adding to his joy. He held up a fist. Hesitantly, Ladybug raised her own, rewarding him with a smile.

"Bien joue."

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

I hate you!

Adrien glared at the screen, having turned down the volume once the news reported something of actual interest: the akuma attack... And Ladybug's new partner.

I hate you!

Panthera, as he called himself, had a rather uninspired suit design. The only significant difference from Chat Noir's look was his green hair.

I hate you!

Heartbeat pounding in his ears, Adrien dissected everything about this 'Panthera' as he could from the shaky broadcast. The newbie held his staff like a club, having trouble with the extending functions.

I hate you!

Captain Hardrock thrust with her sword. Pushing Panthera back. Splitting his staff in two he held them in an X, blocking an overhead blow. But immediately Captain Hardrock switched to an underhand strike, separating the two halves of the staff and sending one flying into the Seine.

I hate you!

Ladybug's yo-yo pulled Panthera out of the supervillain's sword range. But not before losing his remaining staff.

Captain Hardrock charged. Ladybug dodging both her and the flying chains. Panthera jumped away from her sword... and right into the boat's chains.

The remote creaked in Adrien's tightening grip; teeth clenched.

I hate you!

Quickly breaking Panthera's restraints, Ladybug helped him to his feet. Together they charged. Or rather, it should have been together. Panthera had to retrieve his staff which threw off their timing.

Ladybug leapt from chain to chain in midair, as graceful as a gymnast. Panthera a fraction behind her. Captain Hardrock took advantage of the minut delay by breaking past Ladybug's assault, jumping onto the mast net.

I hate you!

Sweat beaded on Adrien's forehead despite the coolness of his room.

Ladybug summoned her Lucky Charm -her own chain- and searched for how to use it while Panthera protected her from the Liberty's attacks. Finally getting into his role.

They conferred for a moment before the chains forced them to split up. Ladybug disappearing below deck while Panthera took on Captain Hardrock. He was marginally better than before, returning her strikes blow for blow. But Captain Hardrock still managed to pin him to the mast with her chains.

I hate you!

Panthera was saying something to the supervillain... Attempting to reason with her. It didn't work, of course, but it gave Ladybug the distraction she needed to rescue him. As they fought Ladybug maneuvered the supervillain towards the helm. In one swift movement she tied Captain Hardrock to her own wheel.

I hate-

Adrien jumped to his feet, eyes wide as the first vestiges of fear mixed with his already pounding heart; the ship sailed through the air for one moment before crashing to the ground. Sagging back down he saw Panthera call on Cataclysm. And Ladybug's cure put everything back to normal.

Nadja went on to heap praise on this 'new Chat Noir' and ask questions Adrien hoped no one ever found out. I hate you! Scowling he turned it off.

I hate you! Adrien's frown deepened. Ladybug... was usually better at communicating her plans. I hate you! It was a confusing thought. I hate you! As it meant Panthera wasn't the only one to blame for such abysmal teamwork. I hate you!

A sharp crack brought Adrien's attention to the remote still in his clenched fist. Uncurling his fingers Adrien stared at the break running along the bottom. I hate you! If you weren't looking for it you wouldn't even notice. I hate you!

The sound of Adrien's door opening was the only warning he got of Nathalie's entrance. (Why didn't he have a lock? Every other room in the manor had a lock, even the kitchen had a lock! So, why didn't he?) Not for the first time Adrien noted how she didn't knock before entering.

His father's assistant glanced between him and the piano but said nothing about it to Adrien. That didn't mean she'd say nothing about it to Gabriel.

"Adrien. Your father had something come up at work and won't be able to hear your recital today." Nathalie's impassive expression never changed. "...He still expects you to practice. I'll try to fit you in tomorrow."

"..."

"Adrien-"

"I get it." Adrien snapped, unclenching his jaw. "Father has more important things to deal with."

Nodding once, Nathalie left as quickly as she arrived.

Adrien's chest rose and fell as his breath came rapidly. I hate you! Mind snapping back to the akuma fight -fingernails digging into his palms- or more specifically, Ladybug's new partner.

Panthera wasn't any better than Chat Noir. I hate you! Adrien's hands were shaking. I hate you! He wasn't a better fighter. I hate you! The remote slipped from his grip as he clenched and unclenched his fingers like claws. I hate you! He couldn't follow Ladybug's signals like Chat Noir could. I hate you! Adrien's vision blurred, eyes burning. I hate you! It was hard to tell across a screen. I hate you! His throat was too tight. I hate you! But the only significant difference was how silent Panthera was compared to-

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate-

Was that the only reason?

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I-

Wildfire raged in Adrien's chest. Burning his throat, his stomach, his head.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

Did they really choose this wannabe Chat Noir because he WOULDN'T ASK QUESTIONS!?

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

Building pressure pushed at Adrien's chest and jaw and throat and eyes and fists.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

Choose him because he would be quiet and obedient and SYCOPHANTIC!?

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

Bile rose into his mouth and stung his throat.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

Adrien's whole body shook. Everything blurred, nothing was clear. Except the great, persistent, growing pain that threatened to shake him apart. He could feel himself cracking, breaking, shattering-

His phone rang.

Adrien scrambled for it. Like it was a rope tossed into the deep, dark well he found himself drowning in.

I hate you!

Without bothering to glance at the caller Adrien answered.

"Sup, bro!"

Blinking rapidly, Adrien saw Nino, Alya and Marinette crowding into the screen. Behind them were their other friends making some last minute preparations for the music festival. Suddenly his raging storm was much more endurable.

Nino leaned into the camera. "Dude, is your camera off? It's all dark."

"Uh, yeah, just a sec." Realizing that he must look like a mess Adrien hit mute and hurried into his bathroom. The red eyed, tear stained face that he washed away made him grateful his friends hadn't seen him.

I hate you!

With a deep breath Adrien turned the mic and camera back on, forcing a smile. "Hey."

"There he is!" Nino grinned.

Alya turned the phone to focus on her. "So, we know you were looking forward to being here. Which is why this girl," Alya wrapped an arm around Marinette and hugged her close. "Had the brilliant idea to do this video chat!"

Smile softening into something more genuine Adrien gazed at Marinette's pink face. "You were thinking of me?"

"W-well, I just thought that it was a shame you couldn't tea- be here! So, I just, yeah..." Marinette trailed off, eyes everywhere but the screen.

His heart slowed from breakneck speed to merely sprinting. "Thank you."

Marinette squeaked and muttered what could have been a 'you're welcome' before pushing the phone back to Nino. Wiggling out of Alya's grasp as she dashed off.

His best friend grinned at them as Alya chased after Marinette offscreen. But once his eyes came back to Adrien, Nino's brow furrowed slightly. "Seriously, bro, how you holding up?"

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

Something must've shown on Adrien's face as Nino asked: "That bad?"

Trying to downplay it Adrien shrugged. "It's not like it's the first time he's changed his mind."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, as Nino scowled at the specter of Gabriel Agreste. "Dude. No offence, but I wanna sock your old man."

Laughter bubbled up and spilled out of Adrien. Blocking his breath and forming a stitch in his side. Vision blurring. Hand covering his mouth as he tried to control himself. Tried to stop it from devolving into hysterical sobbing.

"Adrien!?" Nino's eyes were wide with alarm.

Biting the inside of his cheek Adrien gasped for breath. "S-sorry." He fought of the giggles that threatened to choke him. "It's just... he's a head taller than you."

Nino drew himself up indignantly and Adrien was relieved to see his misdirection work.

"That bony hermit never gets off his rear-end! My little brother could kick him into next week, dude!"

A bark of laughter escaped Adrien's control. Thankfully not igniting the false manic glee. "Thanks for that."

Despite his confusion Nino still smiled at Adrien. "What are bros for?"

Gazing gratefully at Nino, Adrien felt himself balance on a melancholy plateau. "I really will be okay. This," by which he meant their call, "helps."

Nino fidgeted, adjusting his cap. "I just... wish I could do more, y'know?" The unspoken for you was clear as day.

A pleasant warmth bloomed in Adrien's chest, softening further the ache that remained. "I know, bro. That's why I love you."

"I love you, too." Nino searched for something more to say as he searched Adrien's face for what remained unsaid, but nothing came to him. "Well... Kitty Section is starting soon. Might as well greet the band before they become famous and forget they know us."

"No, we wouldn't want that would we..." Adrien could almost ignore the pressure in his chest.

After a round of waving and sympathizing with him for not being able to make it, they began. Kitty Section was amazing. Rose's voice was never like that! Juleka smiled widely, carefree. Ivan was the most intense Adrien had ever seen. They looked... alive.

Gabriel would certainly classify it as 'classless noise' but to Adrien? Kitty Section had something that he couldn't replicate inside the four walls of his cage.

I hate you.

At least, not without Plagg.

While he stayed in frame Luka never took his eyes off Marinette. A hopeful smile evident even across the screen. As night came on and the band went from rehearsing to performing, Luka seemed to play for one person only.

Adrien had never met Luka, despite hearing about him from the bandmembers in his class. And he didn't really count saying hello over video chat like his father. The older boy was nice, polite and good at guitar. Besides dyeing their hair Adrien couldn't honestly say Luka bore any resemblance to his sister.

"-out of chaos comes creation!" He heard Anarka spout in the background, talking to someone he couldn't see. Adrien didn't know why but the phrase stuck in his head. It was like a promise.

Out of Chaos comes Creation.

Wrapping it tightly about himself, Adrien brandished it like an amulet against the voice that wouldn't stop whispering at the edges of his thoughts.

I hate you.

Apparently, that wasn't why Adrien's mind had latched onto the phrase.

Trying to drown it out with Kitty Section's illegally loud music didn't work. It was always the same volume.

I hate you.

Distracting Adrien from enjoying his friends' concert. Like a thorn in his side.

He knew what it was. It was everything he was trying to ignore. Everything he felt at seeing himself replaced so easily. At the excitement in Alya's voice when she shot out theories about Panthera. At the Guardian, at Ladybug, at himself. All summed up into three little words Adrien had never said to anyone.

I hate you.

Despite Adrien's attempts to even his breathing and calm his heartbeat, the voice continued to plague his thoughts for the rest of the night.

I hate you.

A reminder that, even in his own mind, Adrien could never be free.

#ml angst #ml au #adrien angst #adrien agreste #captain hardrock #marinette dupain cheng #float like a butterfly #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction

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