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rist-ix · 10 months

Note

at this point I’m not above begging the old gods for a tbhtbh update and I’m sure as hell not above begging you so please please-

(At least a snippet???)

okay so there’s a whole bunch of asks in my inbox asking for a snippet and I keep putting it off to answer them, because surely I should answer them when I actually have written on? And surely that’s gonna be soon, right?? Right????? But now it’s been months and I’m haunted by all the nice words and funny jokes and cool asks that I never answered because UGH my brain hAS NOT DELIVERED and I didn’t want to show up empty handed, u know? my anxiety is building and my time to write is shrinking and I am A Mess, BUT!!! I’ve also decided to say fuck it and just throw out the stuff I’ve ignored for a good few weeks. So at everyone whose asks I’ve ignored, please know that I am tormented by shame and adhd in equal measures, a never-ending cycle of horror and procrastination.

Anyway. Magix City my beloved!!!

His roar of fury follows her into the hallway, but she doesn’t slow down. Her one chance, her final chance, is now. She knows from Darcy herself that the witch isn’t scrying for her when she’s with Valtor, and she knows from Stormy that the handcuffs’ lifetime is dependent on how strong the captive is. Right now, Valtor is much, much more powerful than her.

She’s paced these corridors for days, weeks. She has gotten lost, confused, and distracted in these hallways, but she has also grown familiar. And now, tonight, it all pays off.

She finds the way. Finds the portal. Far behind her she can hear Valtor call her name, can feel the bond surging with regained magic as he gives chase, and she knows that her window is closing.

Those last few meters feel like eternity. Any moment his hand will close around her shirt, her arm, her neck; any moment she will be torn back and everything will be over. She thinks of Stella, of Flora, of all her friends and how they’d laughed at Alfea, strolled through the city. I’m coming, she thinks. I promise.

She can feel the building heat of a spell behind her.

But it’s too late.

She sets foot into the thin, glowing circle of the portal, and then there’s the blinding light of teleportation.

Just like that, she’s through. She’s out.

The brilliant magic of the portal plucks her from the cold, pale sphere that is Domino, catapults her through thousands of lightyears of space, and spits her out on black asphalt.

She fails to catch her fall, her momentum causing her to roll over her shoulder and bruise her knees on the rough ground. When she comes to a stop, her palms are scratched open and there’s a little bit of blood running down her shins. She hisses in pain and tears her hair back, looking around, preparing to fight off whoever comes through after her.

But he doesn’t appear.

There’s only the dark, rain-wet street before her. Reflecting the colourful lights of the skyscrapers lining it, the streetlamps, the tail-lights of hovering cars zooming by. A rainbow of vibrant blues and purples and yellows, of red and pink and so, so many others. Neon signs and brightened windows cutting through the cloudy night sky, still roiling with the promise of rain.

Magix City. She’s in Magix City.

She’s home.

A wave of sound crashes down on her and she falls right back onto her scraped knees, too stunned to cover her ears. After the long, unnatural silence of Domino, everything is so loud. Angry, beeping horns of cars in the distance, engines whining and roaring, the pitter-patter of a million steps as people mill about on the sidewalks, heeled shoes against wet stone. A prism full of colors in just their clothes, their hair, their faces as they stream by.

Even at night Magix is a bustling metropolis, full of life and noise and light.

She’s assaulted by so many impressions all at once she feels like she might go blind and deaf from it, and still she can’t look away. Three years she hasn’t been here. Almost four, now.

It’s so, so beautiful. In that shrill, dazzling, vibrant way only Magix can be. She feels just like she did then, when she’d first set foot into its labyrinthine, multilayered streets. Like she is on the cusp of something new, something chaotic and magical. Limitless and never-ending, never-resting.

Freedom. She’s free.

A blaring horn snaps her back to the present, and she whirls around only to shield her eyes from the blinding headlights of a car. Someone’s yelling for her to get up, get off the street, are you insane? She jumps to her feet and realizes that she’s in the middle of the road, in her pajamas, and cars have had to hit the brakes or they would have run her over.

Adrenaline hot in her veins, she stumbles back towards the sidewalk, looking around. People have stopped walking and are pointing at her, some talking to each other behind raised hands. Some look worried, some are snickering, and some look alarmed. Shocked.

She remembers that her picture had been plastered across screens and billboards for years, combined with a shady excuse and a bounty that no sane person could have spent in their entire lifetime.

And that Magix is crawling with Valtor’s marks.

No sooner had she finished the thought than she feels the gaze of dozens of eyes snap to her, all at once. Faces in the crowd turning towards her as if magnetized, their eerie synchrony sending goosebumps down her spine.

There’s no life in their stare. Because they’re not the ones looking.

She doesn’t wait for them to come any closer. She ducks her head and starts sprinting, slipping through the gaps in the crowd like a fish against the current. From the corners of her eyes she can see them start to move, to follow her, and her thundering heartbeat seems to choke her in her throat. She hasn’t thought this through at all, there’s a reason she never returned here with Stella. But the only thing on her mind when she’d stepped through that portal had been her friends, how happy they’d been, and the magical gateway had dropped her at the closest match to that nebulous feeling it could find. In the middle of a street, at the heart of this city they had loved.

And now Valtor knows she’s here.

A hand snatches her wrist, and another grabs her hair, marks swarming towards her from all corners of the city. She cries out in pain and hears people start to shout in confusion, but even if they wanted to risk helping her, they wouldn’t have the power to get through the mind-controlled puppets.

But she does, she remembers as the marks try to pull her back, push her down.

A blaze of light and she is bursting free, fluttering wings carrying her up above them and the crowd. Glittering cyan settling on her skin, golden tiara flashing in her hair, and if there had been any doubts in anyone as to who she is, they are now shown irrefutable proof.

#i have so many feelings about magix city and im frankly underutilizing it in every fic i write #asks #fic: to be hunted to be haunted #the copy pasting from my notes app has sadly robbed it of its italics #but whatever #winx club #maybe now I’ll be able to answer all the other asks without cringing with embarrassment for my procrastination #I’m pretty busy with the internship until autumn but I hope I’ll get some writing done until then

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wandaromanova · 3 years

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can i request wandanat x r? r wants to propose to wandanat and has been sneaking around to hide her plans of proposal. wandanat thinks r is cheating and maybe leaves her? you decide but angst please and i just love all your work i can't stop re reading them💕

Ruined

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: cussing, arguing, very slight violence, cheating allegations

A/N: hi! thank you for your request! im flattered to know that you love and re read my work! i may or may not have intentionally left this on a cliffhanger whoops 🤭 <3

Ruined | Regret

Word Count: 1.8K | masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You had first met Wanda and Natasha when you were tasked with being the Avengers’ liaison. You were tasked to handpick missions that you believed required the attention of the heroes and assigned team members onto those missions.

You worked very closely with the team, you even lived with them in the compound for convenience. In the time spent working for them, you had grown super close to everyone; most especially Nat and Wanda.

It first started off with the pair going into your office, always asking for missions. You had found it odd considering they never took a break. You didn’t understand why they’d seek out missions when they were clearly exhausted. You figured that maybe they just loved helping people so much that they got excited and anxious for missions, but little did you know what their true intentions were.

They wanted to spend time with you. They wanted to observe you close up and not across a conference table. They wanted to know everything there was to know about you. As creepy as it was, they wanted to get close enough to know what you smelt like. They wanted to know what your lips tasted like. They wanted the relationship with you to surpass professionalism.

Eventually, the two Avengers stopped asking for missions when they came in; they just went to your office for the sake of going there. They’d bring you various lunches every single day and shower you with small compliments.

You’d brushed it off as the women being very good friends that just so happened to be flirts. You were wrong. They were interested in you, in the same way you were in them. You couldn’t help but admire the two beautiful women.

Their green eyes, fit bodies, and kind smiles were a recipe for disaster, in the best way possible. With one look, you’d drop to your knees and do whatever they wanted. They just had to say the word and you would do it, no hesitation. Yeah, it sounds absolutely ridiculous, but it’s painfully and embarrassingly true.

Over the course of time, you had grown closer to Wanda and Nat. Your daily lunches turned into daily movie nights and dinners too. You saw them all the time and you didn’t mind it one bit.

They finally asked you out after a year of spending time with and getting closer to you. It was safe to say, you instantly agreed with a smile on your face as you let out an, “of course! fucking finally!”

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

Now, you had been dating the two women for five years. Yeah, it’s been a long ass time, but it still wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to spend forever with Wanda and Nat.

You wanted to get an actual house in the suburbs together. Not an apartment in the middle of New York, but a place you could call home. You craved the domesticity of it all.

You wanted to settle down and have kids with them somehow; whether it be by adoption or via surrogate. You just wanted to have a family of your own with the two woman you loved more than anyone or anything in the universe.

So, you’ve been sneaking around trying to keep your secret, well… a secret. You were planning on proposing to your girlfriends. Yes, this was a very huge step in a relationship, but you felt as though it was the right time. You guys had been together for five years! You were practically married to them already!

You would sneak off suddenly during your usual movie nights with Wanda and Nat or before breakfast to go and meet with different jewelers. You didn’t want to go into a store and buy their rings. That was not an option in the slightest. They were special and deserved special rings. They needed rings that were as unique and one of a kind as they were. It’s what Wanda and Nat deserved.

So, you were constantly leaving, whether it be early in the morning or the late hours of the night, on the search for someone who could make your ideas for their rings, a reality. You would hide your phone from Wanda and Nat’s view and even changed your passcode in order to prevent them from finding out. You’d face your phone down whenever you left it in a room with the pair, as well.

Unfortunately, in your excitement of what was to come, you didn’t realize how suspicious your behavior had been. You figured that you were being pretty discreet, coming up with pretty believable excuses. You even had some of the team help you with your lies, since you let them know what you had planned.

However, you forgot you were dating a world class spy and a witch. You were wrong, obviously. As each day passed, your girlfriends worried and assumed the worst. They let their minds spiral and searched for worst case scenarios. The worst one of all seeming the most likely; infidelity. They came to the conclusion that you were cheating on them.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

Natasha and Wanda cried to one another on one of the nights you bolted off and zoomed out of the apartment with a lame excuse.

Wanda sat on the couch as Nat held her in her arms. They both had tears cascading down their faces as their thoughts were plagued by you; by your supposed betrayal.

“How? How could she do this to us? After everything we’ve been through? She’s goes and cheats on us?” Wanda spoke brokenly as she released a sob. Natasha pulled Wanda closer, the Sokovian woman placing her head in the crook of Nat’s neck.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know, Wanda. All I know is, this can’t go on any longer.” Natasha spoke, trying to keep her voice steady, but her voice failed her. She came out shaky as the sadness and hurt seeped in. You had betrayed them, or so they thought.

They sat there in the same position, waiting for your return. Finally, four hours later. You had come back to the apartment.

You were ecstatic as you made your way up to the front door. You finally found a jeweler that could make the perfect rings for Wanda and Nat! You couldn’t wait to get on one knee and present the rings to the two women who would forever hold your heart. You were over the moon excited right now.

However, your joy was quickly wiped away the second you stepped foot into the apartment. You took in the sight of Wanda and Natasha on the couch, staring at you with dried and fresh tears on their faces. You instantly shut the door and tossed your keys onto the counter as you rushed towards your girlfriends worriedly.

“Nat, Wands, what’s wrong loves?” You asked as you approached them, but Natasha abruptly stood up before you could get too close.

“Don’t you take another fucking step!” Nat snapped at you, and you stumbled backwards a little, in total shock. Your concern increased as you looked between the fuming redhead and the heartbroken looking brunette.

“Did something happen? What’s wrong?” You were so confused and desperately wanted to comfort your girlfriends. You don’t recall doing anything that could anger and upset them this much.

“Yeah, something happened. Our girlfriend is a fucking pathetic, cheating ass bitch who can’t keep it in her pants.” Natasha spoke with venom dripping from her tone. You literally let out a gasp, her words physically hurting you.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not cheating on you guys! I love you both more than you guys could even imagine!” You raised your voice, getting frustrated with the situation.

Wanda suddenly stood up and stuck beside Nat. She stared at you with anger clouding her sadness now.

“You’re not cheating on us? Then why the hell have you been running off at weird hours of the day? Why have you been hiding your phone from us?” Wanda began to fire a bunch of questions towards you.

You froze in your place. The answers to their questions weren’t what they thought they would be. The true answers were the complete opposite of cheating, you were acting weird because you were planning on proposing! But you couldn’t tell them that!

You stood silently as the two women stared at you, breathing heavily. They took your silence as confirmation of their suspicions.

“We fucking knew it. You’re a fucking joke, Y/N. Were we not enough for you? Was two women not enough for you?” Wanda inched her way towards you, eyes glowing red.

You backed away, not in fear, but in sadness. You really wished you could tell them the real reasons behind your behavior, but you couldn’t without blowing up your surprise.

“Did you really think you could go behind our backs without us noticing?” Wanda continued to stalk towards you, like she was about to murder you.

“I swear to you both, I would never, ever, cheat on you guys. You’re both more than enough for me. You’re my home, I’d never jeopardize that.” You tried to convince your girlfriends to believe you, but they weren’t having it.

“Stop lying to us!” Wanda screamed out as she sent you flying back with a scarlet colored blast as she used her powers on you. Your back connected with the front door as you groaned. That was going to be a huge bruise later, for sure.

“I’m not lying. When have I ever lied to you both, huh? Why the fuck would I start now?” You asked exasperatedly as you stood up slowly. You cringed at the pain radiating from your back.

“And here you go again, more lies coming out of your slutty mouth. The fucking nerve you have, Why don’t you go and fuck whoever you’ve been seeing and leave us alone?” Natasha spoke as she moved forward, placing her hand firmly on Wanda’s waist.

Before you even have the chance to speak, Wanda opened the door with her powers and tossed you out of the apartment. She abruptly slammed the door in your face. Wanda and Nat’s angry, pain-filled faces and scarlet colored magic being the last things you saw before the door blocked your vision with a harsh slam.

You sat on the ground in front of the door in shock. They thought you were cheating on them. They didn’t want anything do with you now. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? What did this mean for your proposal? Should you cancel on the jeweler? Or should you hold out hope and pray that they’ll hear you out eventually?

All you did know was that your proposal had been ruined regardless. Whether you told them about your plans or not, the moment was doomed the minute they began to suspect cheating.

Withholding the information from them, caused them to push you away. But now that you look at it, if you had just told them about the proposal, you’d at least be in their arms right now and not on the floor of your apartment complex hallway with tears streaming down your face.

You were at a loss, and you didn’t know if you could gain back the trust of the women you loved.

───────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

join my taglist!

taglist: @wvnda-maximoff @everybodyhateserin @coconauwater @mindofwesley @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @d14n4ol @marrymemcgrath @olsensnpm @lesbiamelia @marvelwomen-simp @daenerys713 @fayhar @ymzki-haruki @peggycarter-steverogers @unstable-sapphic-hoe @q-hearts @lenissa @hallecarey1 @blackbird06 @prentisshoe @tquick99 @levram @frenchpolarbears @xxromanoffxx @madamevirgo @hopendeath @romanoffprint @hagridsmomma @mrsromanoff @mrs-avenger3000 @unknown5437 @acertainredhead @b-5by5 @midgardianweasley @romanovaslut

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff angst #natasha romanoff angst #wandanat x reader #request

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ct-multifandom · 2 years

Text

Some people are expecting commentary from me, but I’ve been super busy lately. When I’m like this, I like to only talk about things I haven’t seen other people saying.

So I liked Kuro Neko a lot. It was very solid imo and I appreciate the alternation between episodes where a ton of action happens (Ephemeral, Penalteam) vs episodes where the two dorks just kinda talk to each other and not much happens heroes-vs-villains-wise (Glaciator 2.0, Kuro Neko). Commentary speed run: Adrien pajamas hell yeah finally, wtf Nathalie out of bed? Good for her but ouch those braces. Rhythm (is that her real name?) was super cute and wholesome as a “villain”, and I love the senti. Lastly, Plagg is awesome at drawing?

But here’s what I wanted to talk the most about.

CT’s favorite thing: new heroes

The almost-last batch of my blorbos have arrived so clearly I stared at screenshots of all of them for 48 hours and noticed some stuff. I would like to point out that these 48 hours also let me go through what I call The Five Stages of New Hero Grief aka getting over the instant repulsion people feel upon seeing their designs for the first time and learning to love and accept them.

Between his ram-like original concept and the antelope-like final Caprikid, I don’t think Nathaniel actually knows what a goat is? My manga rec for him is one of those baby picture books about different types of animals. Now that I’ve gotten used to him, I actually like his suit. It reminds me of Mitsuru Kirijo from Persona 3. I feel like I’d like him waaaay more if his hair was different, though. It throws me off that it’s so similar to its usual style, even if it’s a little different, so any sort of more noticeable change would’ve made him look more natural. Idk why his paintbrush would have golden metal if everything on him is silver, but oh well.

Sabrina looks just about how I expected her to. I totally called it that she would have a hat. I’ll talk about her design more when I get to that image of her standing upright ‘cause this angle sucks, but I think the marble-designed ball on her chest could be her tool. If her power has to do with tracking, maybe she’ll be useful in tracking down the original, non-clone Penalty who has the actual akumatized object on her.

Minotaurox my beloved. Everyone’s saying that they see his suit as black, but I see it as navy blue? It’s a kinda desaturated color compared to most of the other suits, but he’s still all blue? (Trust me, I have perfect color vision). I like the way his mask is, it’s new and interesting. I also love the big cargo pockets. Practical. I think the puffy part around his shoulders is supposed to be like an ox yoke. His boots kinda confuse me ‘cause cloved hooves like that could never work irl but I guess it’s just part of the magic. I feel like his normal hair works well with his design because his suit is pretty reminiscent of Ivan’s usual clothes with the cargo pockets, boots, dark colors, and not a lot of details or flashiness. That’s why Nathaniel’s bothers me a little, since his clothes, on the other hand, looks so different from his usual self.

Marc looks fantastic. Glad to finally see an HD image because now we can see the gold trim which is awesome. I like his little scarf, I love his tail, and somewhat unpopular opinion but I love his hair. I’m mixed on the shoes. They make sense, and I always prefer designs being heavily influenced by the animal traits over “this looks good”, so I can’t complain, but how is he gonna kick a soccer ball without wrecking it? I guess it’s a magic ball idk. Super important detail that I haven’t seen anyone talk about: is it just me, or does he have earrings in his left (our right) ear? If you zoom in, it looks like he does. Bunnyx twins? In the picture below, I noticed that his feathers aren’t flat to his chest like I previously thought.

There are four heroes whose animals have hooves, yet zero of them have hoof prints on the bottom of their shoes. My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.

What I want everyone to look at is the glimpse we have of Ivan’s back. I think his tool’s on there, but what is it? It’s pretty big. Big hammer? Musical instrument? Idk

One thing I do appreciate is that they didn’t go pussy mode with the horns. If the character designers were cowards, they could’ve easily given us Minotaurox and Caprikid with tiny stubs, but they did not, and for that I am grateful.

First glimpse of Marc’s tool. They changed it from a fountain pen type thing to a quill, but they way he’s holding it makes it look kinda like a combat knife lol. Like in Hack-San, when most of the kids got brainwashed by Robustus, Marc is one again standing in the middle and a bit in front of all the other side characters, and he’s the one speaking for them. This is some consistent new development since it happened twice, and it makes me wonder how important he’s going to become because he was so irrelevant in previous seasons, but he’s changed a lot in s4. I think he’s probably the “beloved character with a big role coming up, like more than this character has ever spoken before” that Ezra Weisz talked about once in a tik tok.

Sabrina looks way cuter in this image than in the trailer imo. Her suit is similar to her normal clothes in that 70s-like aesthetic. Another important thing that nobody’s talking about: is it just me or does she have glasses in this shot? Zoom in on her mask. It looks like she has frameless oval glasses, but I can’t tell if they’re there or not in the trailer shot. If I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing, I like them a lot. They’re cute, and it’s nice to see a girl with glasses not lose them for “aesthetic reasons”. The white part on her chest/belly is a heart aww. Her boots look like those tall schoolgirl type socks, and that plus the shorts, beret, and glasses has a huge vintage prep vibe.

I bet Ladybug is drawing out a game plan in this scene, but everyone’s expressions are so funny. Every single character could be a different reaction meme.

Last thing: I’m trying to imagine how Ladybug is going to give out all of these miraculous. We know the class starts all together, so it’d be tough to separate them all to individually give them miraculous in different locations later. On top of that, there are four more heroes in three other locations, and they’re probably all supposed to be in class right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t explain how they get busted out of class, but in Kuro Neko we see how collecting the miraculous from even four temp heroes is stressful and time consuming for Ladybug. Maybe this is the episode where she’ll start considering making more people/all of them permanent at some point, and maybe even considering that everyone knowing each other’s identities would make things way easier.

That’s all for now. I have no time, but I’m sooo tempted to draw the four of them in fashion inspired by their hero forms waking down the street “late with iced coffee”. I can see the designs in my head already. I hope to see fan art of all four of them, and I really hope the show will develop all of them at least a little this episode.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml season 4 #ml spoilers #miraculous season 4 #miraculous spoilers #miraculous analysis #ivan bruel #sabrina raincomprix #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #minotaurox #traquemoiselle #coq courage #caprikid #rooster bold #penalteam #kuro neko

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

Oooh, Tom x reader request idea

Reader colored her hair or is wearing a wig just for fun and paparazzi pictures are taken from the back when they’re together so it looks like Tom’s cheating on reader and even reader gets freaked out at first but they have a laugh about it in the end

Thank you for the request darling! I’m so sorry it took so long for me to do. While celebrating the holidays then going back to school, I’ve been busy😭 But thank you again, and enjoy!💞

💌.

Ginny

If you’re a redhead I’m sorry😭 I couldn’t think of any other characters and this came to mind.

The harsh light peaking in from behind the curtains made you groan. You threw the comforter over your head and blocked the sun from your eyes. Tom shifted beside you, tightening his arm around your bare waist and pulling you closer into his chest. He emitted a light “humph” and snuggled into the back of your neck. The slight ache in your head made you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ease the pain. You kept your eyes closed till the ache subsided, trying to remember a single thing that happened last night.

Honestly, the whole night was a complete blur. All you remembered was that Tom, Harrison, and Harry had persuaded you into joining them at the local pub near your shared place for a quiz night. At first you didn’t want to go; you loved the lads but when it came to a game or something that tested their wits, they were intolerably competitive. Game nights with them usually ended with: Harry crying in frustration, Tom on the verge of committing murder, Harrison turning furiously red in anger, and Tuwaine yelling at someone for screwing up the game. Game nights were just a mess.

You were hoping for a quiet night alone at the house, but no such luck, Tuwaine had plans with his girlfriend. Which meant all three men came to you to fill up his spot.

“Please (y/n), we need four people in our group to go.” Harry begged, resting his head on your shoulder and looking up at you with puppy eyes. Tom stood in front of you, using his body to block the tv, and diverting your attention to him.

“Guys, why can’t it just be the three of you?” You questioned the men surrounding you.

“Because the pub said it has to be in groups of four and we believe you’ll be a perfect addition to our team.” Harrison answered from your left side. A cheeky grin on his face.

Tom could tell by your features that you still weren’t convinced on going. He uncrossed his arms and kneeled in front of you on the couch. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, putting his weight on your lap and placing his chin on your chest.

Looking up at you with his soft brown eyes he said, “Please come with us, I promise it’ll be fun. You won’t regret it, darling.”

Your lips pursed together in thought while your eyes panned between the three of them, “You guys know how you all get during game nights.”

Tom huffed, his breath causing strands of your hair to move from your face.

“I know—we all know. But we promise to be on our best behavior. Plus, we’ll be on the same team, no competition.” Your boyfriend reassured you, his thumbs drawing circles onto your hips.

Harry snorted, “Yeah, besides the other five to seven teams we’re up against.”

“Oh, we’re winning. We got these two on the team.” Harrison bragged motioning to you and Tom.

“I didn’t agree yet.” You objected, holding your finger up.

“Yet.” Tom repeated, emphasizing the word.

Harrison nudged your shoulder, “Come on, (y/n)! We’ll have a great time. We might even win a free happy hour if we win the quiz.”

Harry shimmied beside you, “And what do we say about free drinks in this house?”

You rolled your eyes, defeated, “Never turn down a free drink.” The boys cheered around you, hyping you up.

“Come on, baby.” Tom encouraged you, hopeful eyes remaining on yours. You sigh, throwing your head back against the couch.

“Fine, I’ll go.” A round of cheers filled the room once again. Harrison and Harry squeezed you into a hug, sandwiching you in between them. When they pullled away, Tom gathered you into his arms and lifted you up.

“YES! I LOVE YOU!” He squealed happily, repeating that he loved you and pressing multiple kisses all over your face.

Well you guys must’ve won the pub quiz last night because the last thing you can clearly remember was entering the pub and the first two rounds of the quiz. The topic of last night’s quiz was Harry Potter; both being huge fans of the series, you and Tom completely breezed through the quiz, getting most of the questions (that you can remember) correct.

A buzz came from your phone, followed by another buzz, and another. The sudden movement of your phone made you peak your head from under the covers. Squinting from the light, you blindly reached for your phone and brought it under the comforter with you. When your eyes were fully adjusted to your screen you saw there were two texts from your cousin.

Tf is this?

Sent Photo ⃞

Your brows knitted together at the message. Curiously, you slide on the notification and open iMessages. The picture downloads and you see that it’s Tom, wearing glasses, black pants, and a grey knit sweater. Although on his arm, latched a redhead wearing similar attire as him but with a tight skirt instead of pants. There were a few more pictures attached. Some where Tom wrapped his hand around the mystery person’s waist and another with him kissing her face.

Your heart’s pace quickened as you glanced at the man cuddled beside you. Your eyes shift back to the phone; that definitely wasn’t you. But at the same time, you had no recollection of anything that happened after drinks were handed out. You stared at the pictures again, an expression on your face that resembled something along the lines of a scowl and a look of confusion. You really didn’t know what happened last night. You zoomed into the pictures, trying to get a proper look at the woman’s face, but to no avail, her face was either not in the shot or Tom was in the way.

You force yourself up into a sitting position and harshly smack Tom’s arm. He immediately startles awake; jumping into his senses making the bed shake. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. He looks around the room for some kind of threat but saw nothing. He did another scan around the room before looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Were you the one who slapped me?” He groggily asked, ducking into your side when the sun’s light connected with his eyes.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe ask that redhead you were hanging out with outside of the pub.” You retorted, still glaring at your phone. The tone of your voice causes Tom to whip his head from your side. A quizzical look is on his face as he thought back to the previous night. Surprisingly, he didn’t get as drunk last night. For once, he was one of the sober ones. You, on the other hand, were another story. Though he didn’t blame you for going on a drinking spree, work had been stressing you out and you barely got any leisure time.

“Huh—baby, what are you on about?” His voice is deep and rough from sleep. Sexy, but right now his voice was the least of your worries.

“What redhead? The only redhead that was there was—“ He couldn’t finish his sentence because you were shoving your phone in his face.

“This one?” Tom whines and leaned his head back to get a better look. When he saw the picture on your phone, his eyes slowly panned to you. Your arms were crossed and a scowl was on your pretty face. You were pretty even when you were angry.

“Did the drinks really fuck you up that much?” He wondered out loud, a hint of amusement in his words. He took your phone and began swiping through the pictures with a grin on his face.

You felt the blood in your body boil while your boyfriend looked through the pictures of that woman with a stupid smile on his face. You snatched the phone from him, “Well maybe, because who the fuck is this chick?”

“Are you jealous?” He teased you, poking your side. You slapped his finger away and glared at him.

“Oh I don’t know, a woman I barely know is hanging on my boyfriend’s arm! I’m not jealous—I’m just—a concerned girlfriend who wants to know what the hell happened last night.” You crossed your arms again, proud of the excuse you made up. Though, you really did want to know what happened last night.

“Darling, that’s literally you.” Tom pointed out, finally bursting out laughing. The scowl was wiped off your face and replaced with a look of confusion. Tom rested his head back on his pillow and watched you look through the pictures again. Your brows were scrunched together and a pout was on your lips, tempting him to press a kiss onto them. His arms slithered around your waist again, pulling you down so you were laying down against him.

“(Y/n), I’m serious that’s you. Do you really not remember?” Tom adjusted himself to place your head on his chest. Your lips were pursed together, eyes still trained on your phone screen.

“But my ass does not look that good from the back.” You muttered, zooming in on said area. Tom snorted and pinched your ass cheek, “You’d be surprised, lovey.”

It was quiet between you two while you continued to study the pictures. Tom said it was you, but it really didn’t look like you from behind.

“Remember it was Harry Potter night? Harry thought it would be a fun idea to dress up as the characters, so we ended up going as Harry and Ginny.” He reminded you, softly brushing tangles out of your hair with his fingers. Your mouth went slack as realization set in.

“Oh my God, yes!” You exclaimed leaning up on your elbows to look up at him. There was a hint of humor in his eyes and a lazy grin was set on his lips.

“How could I forget that I was wearing a wig? Where is that damn thing?” You leaned over Tom’s body and began to look over the bed to get a glimpse of the floor. Tom chuckled motioning to your makeup desk in his room. You find the desk and, lo and behold, was the red almost orange wig in all its glory. You shook your head at yourself and at the slow moment you were going through.

You turn back to Tom, “Honestly, what the fuck?” The two of you bursted out laughing, the sounds of your joy filling the room.

“I feel so stupid.” You groaned, shoving your face into Tom’s chest. He let out a giggle, thinking over what just happened in his head again. His large palm smooths circles onto your back, slowly making you doze off again.

“Don’t be, you were drunk as hell last night. I didn’t expect you to be in the right state of mind so early in the morning.” He reassured you, pressing feather light kisses along your head.

You hummed, getting lazy to respond.

“I’m sorry for getting too drunk.”

Tom shook his head, “No, you deserve to have a few shots and a generous amount of pints. I know work’s been hectic and then we all dragged you out on your free night; it’s the least we can do, seeing as we disturbed your down time.”

You shrugged, “I actually enjoyed going—well from what I can remember. I had a really good time.” You move your head to look at him, “Please tell me I didn’t do anything ridiculous.”

A smile was instantly on Tom’s face, “My favorite was when Harry kept on bringing you drinks and you started to believe that he was a house elf. So you started calling him Dobby.”

“Is that all?” You asked before drifting off to sleep. A faint smile on your lips.

Tom snickered, “You tried to offer him your sock.”

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

It’s Always Been You ~ 147

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,320ish

Summary: The final battle begins....

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time.

Y/N was lost in the midst of the chaos. Her unconscious body getting caught in one of the lower levels of the rubble. Tony was up first, searching for Y/N. He found the shield and Steve instead.

“Come on, buddy,” Tony urged, kneeling beside his brother-in-law. “Wake up.” Steve groaned, coming to. “That’s my man.” Tony held the shield up. “You lose this again, I’m keeping it.”

“What happened?” Steve asked.

“You messed with time. It tends to mess back. You’ll see.” Tony helped Steve to his feet.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“I was hoping she was with you. FRIDAY?”

“I am searching for her location, boss” FRIDAY responded.

“Please tell me that she’s alive."

“She has to be,” Steve said. “The Stones won’t allow anything to happen to her.”

“I’ve located Mrs. Stark,” FRIDAY announced. “She’s underneath the rubble.”

“Great, where?” Tony pressed.

“Tony,” Steve said, “maybe we need to deal with—“

“Deal with what?! Your sister—my wife is down there in who knows what kind of condition! We—I need to get to her!”

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted, “I don’t know if Y/N would see that as the best idea.”

“What?! Why are you choosing now to talk back, FRIDAY?”

“Because Thanos is here. Thor is currently watching him not too far from where you are.” Steve and Tony made eye contact.

“Y/N can protect herself,” Steve told his worried friend. “The she’ll be fine because the Stones need her.”

Tony nodded and the two walked out of the rubble they were in. They found Thor intensely watching Thanos, who was sitting on something not too far off.

“What’s he been doing?” Tony asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” Thor answered.

“Where are the Stones?” Steve questioned.

“Probably somewhere under all this,” Tony responded. “FRIDAY’s looking. All I know is he doesn’t have them.”

“So we keep it that way.”

“You know it’s a trap, right?” Thor said.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “And I don’t much care.”

“Good. Just as long we are all in agreement.” Thor stretched out both hands as thunder cracked. He summoned both Stormbreaker and Mjolnir, which he had stolen during the time heist. HIs casual clothes transformed into his armor and cape, with his beard forming into a braid. “Let’s kill him properly this time.”

The three walked down the rubble towards Thanos. All of them were very serious and ready to end this once and for all.

“You could not live with your own failure. And where did that bring you? Back to me,” Thanos stated, as the three heroes slowly moved to surround him. “I thought by eliminating half of life, the other half would thrive. But you’ve shown me that’s impossible. And as long as there are those that remember what was, there will always be those that are unable to accept what can be. They will resist.”

“Yep. We’re all kinds of stubborn,” Tony replied.

“I'm thankful. Because now, I know what I must do.” Thanos stood. “I will shred this universe down to its last atom.” He placed his helmet on his head. "And then– With the stones you've collected for me, create a new one. Teeming with life, but knows not what it has lost but only what it has been given.” Thor began crackling with lightning. “A grateful universe.”

“Born out of blood,” Steve said.

“They'll never know it. Because you won't be alive to tell them.”

And the fighting began.

~~~

Y/N groaned as she came to. Her head was pounding, it had obviously been hit during the chaos. She was breathing heavily as she took in her surroundings. There was a large metal beam trapping her against broken concrete.

“Hello!” She called out. “Is anyone there?”

No response. And she instantly regretted not putting a comms device in her ear. Y/N grunted as she tried to push the beam off of her, failing. Looking up, she studied the rubble barely hanging on above her. She needed to be careful or it was going to completely crush her.

“Use us,” a rough voice whispered to her in her head. “Use us.”

“It has always taken a lot from me to control you,” Y/N responded, aloud. “How am I suppose to do what I have to if I’m weak?”

“You’ll be fine.”

“What the hell am I even supposed to do anyway?”

“When the time comes, you will know.”

“You guys are incredibly unhelpful, you know?” She groaned as she tried to wiggle herself free again, without help from the Stones.

“You are wasting time.”

“Fine!” Y/N huffed.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the Stones.

~~~

“Okay, Thor! Hit me!” Tony exclaimed, the back of his suit opening up.

Thor banged his 2 weapons together, each loaded with lightning, and aimed them at the back of Tony’s suit. The Iron Man suit sucked up the energy and he shot it out at Thanos using his hands and body. Thanos twirled his blade really fast to divert the energy. Thor grabbed Stormbreaker and used it to bat Mjolnir to hit Thanos. Thanos used Tony as a shield, knocking him out and away.

“Boss, wake up!” FRIDAY pled.

Steve tried to attack Thanos but was easily shielded away. Thor’s attack was quickly blocked by Thanos’ sword. Thanos grabbed onto Thor and lifts him up by the neck, choking him, before slamming him down and punching him. Mjolnir is flicked away as Thanos relentlessly beats up Thor, throwing him into a tree and socking him before throwing Thor over rubble and socking him again. Thor tried to grab Stormbreaker but Thanos grabbed it and used it against Thor.

Form not too far off, Mjolnir began to float off the ground. Thanos was digging Stormbreaker into Thor, when suddenly Mjolnir flies into Thanos. It zoomed past, stopped, and then flew back the way it came. Both Thanos and Thor looked back in amazement as Steve wields the hammer.

“I knew it!” Thor said.

Frustrated, Thanos kicked Thor to the ground. Steve charged at the Titan, swinging Mjolnir, and hitting him in the face, knocking him down. Steve threw his shield and Thanos deflected. Steve threw Mjolnir to his shield, creating a shockwave and knocking Thanos off his feet.

Steve then threw his shield at Thanos, quickly hitting it back at the Titan again with Mjolnir. He lined his arm up with Thanos to channel lightning his way.

Thanos eventually got the upper hand, removing his helmet. He stabbed Steve’s leg and knocked Mjolnir out of the Captain’s hand. Thanos proceeded to destroy Steve’s shield with his double-bladed Soward and threw him across the battlefield. Steve staggeredly tried to get up.

“In all my years of conquest, violence, slaughter,” Thanos said, “it was never personal. But I’ll tell you now, what I’m about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet—I’m gonna enjoy it. Very, very much.”

The entirety of Thanos’ army was then summoned to the ground. Upon seeing the army descending onto Earth, Steve slowly got back to his feet. With a fierce determination, he tightened his broken shield to his arm and stood against the army. Alone. Suddenly, a crackling came in on his comm.

“Hey, Cap, you read me?”

Steve stopped and looked around.

“Cap, it’s Sam. Can you hear me?”

A portal began to form behind the Captain.

“On your left.”

Steve looked behind to see the portal on his left side. Three figures stepped through; Okoye, Shuri, and T’Challa, all ready to fight. Sam then zoomed in from above. As he did, dozens of more portals opened up all around the battlefield. Through one of the portals, Doctor Strange appeared, joined by Drax, Mantis, Star Lord, and Spider-Man. Everyone on the battlefield watched in confusion and awe as more and more heroes arrive through the portals from all the corners of the universe.

Giant-Man (Scott) appeared out of the rubble with Rhodey, Bruce, and Rocket. Every one was lining up behind the Captain, all the teams and armies that Strange and the other sorcerers brought in to help. Tony was sitting up, finally coming around from the hit on his head. Suddenly, the ground in front of him began to tremble and crack. He pushed himself back as something blasted through it and into the sky. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was his wife.

Y/N was glowing with the power of the Stones. Each of the colors were circling around her, all six colors clearly defined. She slowly set herself down in front of Tony, the power fading away as she rushed to him.

“Tony! Are you okay?” She worried as she helped him to his feet.

“Am I okay?” He questioned. “You just shot up from the ground. You were glowing!”

“I’m okay. I’m ready to finish this. Once and for all.”

Tony pulled her in for a desperate kiss. Like he was terrified it would be their last. Y/N quickly reciprocated the desperation.

“I love you,” Tony breathed out as he pulled away.

“I love you too,” she responded.

They turned to join the group of heroes. Tony suited all the way up, while Y/N began to channel the Stones.

“AVENGERS!” Steve shouted, everyone gearing up as she summoned Mjolnir. “Assemble.”

Thor made a battle cry, as did T’Challa, and the heroes charged towards the opposing army. Thanos raised his sword towards the Avengers, signaling his army to charge as well. As the two armies collided, everyone short of paired up. Tony and Y/N were working together, keeping each other safe. Steve and Thor were doing the same thing, both switching off weapons. Steve had Stormbreaker in his hand while Thor had Mjolnir.

“No, no, give me that,” Thor said, tossing Mjolnir to Steve and signaling for Stormbreaker. “You have the little one.”

Steve passed Stormbreaker over and the two nodded to each other before running back into the battle. Y/N and Tony had gotten separated. Y/N could sense the Stones and knew she needed to get to them before Thanos did. It seemed that Thanos and his army knew that and were sending their biggest creatures to slow her down.

Despite her trying, Y/N was thrown down, plowing through the ground. She was panting, and groaning in pain. The creature stalked towards her as she tried to get back up. It raised its claws above its head and was just about to ship down on Y/N when someone stepped in-between her and the creature and killed it. Y/N inhaled sharply, still slightly panting, as she took in her hero. Bucky had turned, looking down at her with those eyes she had fallen in love with. But it wasn’t the same anymore. Y/N now knew that she was over him, though he would always have a place in her heart.

“Bucky,” she breathed out.

“Hey, doll,” he smiled softly, helping her off the ground.

“Bucky.”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Bucky.” She practically jumped on him, hugging him tightly. He held her close. “We did it… you’re back.”

“I’m back. Though it’s been mere seconds for me.”

Y/N pulled away. The two studied each other’s faces. Y/N was trying to figure out how to say what she needed to. Bucky was studying her, knowing what she needed to say.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I kept you waiting too many times. I get it.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re happy, right? He treats you right?”

“Yes. He treats me like a queen. We have a daughter. Morgan Howard Stark.”

“Howard?” Bucky chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, I was hesitant on it too. But Tony did some pretty good persuading.”

“I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey! Can you two old people stop catching up and come help us with the fight?” Sam exclaimed over the comms.

“Be right there,” Y/N responded. She shot out her hand to the side, blasting a creature into pieces. “Thanks for the save though, Buck. But I could have handled it.” She smirked before running off.

~~~

Tony was fighting by himself, creatures and one of the Children of Thanos were after him. He was punched at the ground and he was going to get back up when Giant Man stopped on the Child of Thanos. Peter swung in, immediately going to help Tony up.

“Hey! Holy cow! You will not believe what's been going on. Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty?” Peter rambled after both his and Tony’s helmets disappeared. Tony was looking at Peter, trying not to brake out in a total grin. “I must've passed out, Because I woke up, and you were gone. But Doctor Strange was there, right? He was like, "It's been five years. Come on, they need us." And then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time–“

Tony took steps towards the teen. “He did?” He mumbled. “Oh, no.” He opened his arms and pulled the teen into him. “Hold me.”

“What are you doing?” Peter hugged back. Tony slapped Peter’s back and closed his eyes, holding him tighter. “Oh, this is nice.”

Y/N had noticed the two and had allowed them some time while she fought off the army. Finally, she was done. She landed behind them.

“Okay, boys, party’s over,” she commented.

“Y/N!” Peter exclaimed, rushing over to hug her.

“Hey, Peter,” she welcomed him into her arms. “I’m so glad you’re back. Now,” she pulled away, “keep fighting.”

“On it!” His helmet closed and he swung away.

The couple watched before making eye contact.

“We did it,” Tony whispered, coming closer to his wife.

“But it’s not over yet,” Y/N replied. She leaned in and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

next chapter >

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beautiful-and-terrible · 3 years

Text

dazed ‘n‘ confused (part 3)

A/N: 3500 fuckin’ words y’all lmaooo i am so stupidly invested in this dumbass and his hot neighbor.

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x OFC

Warnings: underage drinking / drug usage, dubious consent (both parties inebriated), swearing, etc.

---

Nicole shouldn’t have worried so much about what to wear. When she showed up in Rodrick’s garage, his friends Ben and Chris were there, both dressed in ripped jeans and flannel shirts paired over band t-shirts. By comparison, Nicole’s black skater skirt and combat boots felt almost fancy.

“Hey, I’m Ben,” the dark-haired one holding a red electric guitar came up to her and gave her a fist bump. She almost laughed, not having fist-bumped anyone since she was 13. “Nicole,” she replied, smiling.

“I’m Chris!” the blonde called over, waving, before turning back to adjusting his microphone and checking the settings on their audio.

Rodrick seemed to appreciate her style, at least. He came through the garage door, carrying a four-pack of Monster energy and whistled, giving her a quick up-and-down glance, “Hey, groupie.”

Nicole punched his arm as he walked by. “I came here to listen to you play, so… play.”

“Your wish is my command,” Rodrick said with a dramatic bow.

Nicole found a relatively comfortable spot as far from the speakers as she could get - this wasn’t a concert, but loud speakers could still be painful after an extended period of time. The clack of Rodrick’s drumsticks alerted her, and before she knew it there was a blast of noise and a blur of limbs.

Honestly, he wasn’t bad, Nicole thought to herself after they had played a few songs. He could use a little more control, but what musician didn’t get caught up in their music? Glancing outside, Nicole saw that it was finally growing dark out. The sky had turned a soft purple, and she could see a few fireflies flashing in the cooling grass. She checked the time on her phone - 9:15.

“Hey, do you guys know Caitlin?” she asked the group. They turned to look at her.

“Caitlin Irving or Caitlin Peters?” Ben asked, taking an impressive gulp of Monster before burping loudly. The boys fell into fits of laughter. Nicole couldn’t help laughing, too.

“I don’t know her last name, she works at Starbucks, though.”

“Ohhhhhh, Caitlin! Yeah, we know her. Why?”

“She invited me to a party tonight, but I don’t really know anyone but her. Would you guys wanna be my plus-three?”

Ben and Chris high-fived each other, and Rodrick saluted her with his drumstick, whacking himself in the head in the process. Nicole hid a laugh behind her hand, not wanting to embarrass him. “For sure, Nikky. As long as there's drinks, we’ll be there,” Chris said.

“C’mon, we can take my van,” Rodrick said, shoving his drumsticks in his back pocket and running inside to grab his keys. The other boys started down the driveway toward the white van, garishly painted with the band's name on the side in bold, black letters.

When Rodrick returned, Nicole gave him a smug look. “I thought it needed repairs?”

Rodrick stopped walking mid-stride, looking like a puppet caught on its strings. “Uh. Yeah. Well. My dad helped, when you were over at your house. Getting ready. It’s fine now. He’s the best mechanic I know.”

“Uh-huh. You sure you didn’t just… want to ride home with me from work?”

Rodrick scoffed. “You wish.” But as he rounded the front of the car to the drivers side, you caught the scarlet color of his cheeks against his tan skin. As if he could be any more endearing, he even offered Nicole shotgun. Chris grumbled the entire time, but begrudgingly gave you the seat he had worked so hard to acquire.

“First stop - Capital. Ben has a fake, so we can BYOB,” Rodrick said, practically peeling out of the driveway. Nicole clutched the seat for dear life, heart stuck in her throat.

“Are you sure this thing is secure?” she squeaked, feeling the seat shaking a little in its bolts.

“No one has been ejected yet, Nikky,” Rodrick laughed.

“Go-go gadget get me the fuck out of here,” Nicole groaned, planting her feet on the floor to try and stop herself from flying forward as Rodrick squealed to a stop in front of a seedy looking liquor store.

Ben barely avoided taking the sliding door off its tracks when he opened the door. Chris lit a cigarette in the back, the acrid scent wafting to the front of the van. Nicole didn’t mind the smell much - honestly it reminded her of her Grandmother's house - but she hoped the smell didn’t linger on her clothes. That would be hard to explain to her mom. Speaking of, she sent off a quick text to her parents telling them that she’d be back late. Luckily, Nicole had always been the responsible type, so her parents trusted her to make good decisions and as a result, let her have free reign of her life (especially now that she was 18).

Ben returned after a few minutes, carrying a 24 pack of Natty Light and lighting his own cigarette.

“You have the address?” Rodrick asked, and you showed him Caitlins text.

“Yo, that's in Heather Hill’s neighborhood. Maybe we can tee-pee her house later,” Rodrick said, already zooming off again.

“Heather Hills?”

“Major bitch,” Chris called from the back of the van. Rodrick shrugged. “She’s not a bitch she’s just… not very nice.”

Nicole laughed, “You don’t have to defend the honor of all women by not calling her a bitch. If she’s a bitch, I believe you.”

Rodrick looked at you out of the corner of his eye, thinking briefly.

“Yeah, she’s a stone-cold bitch. She ran over my foot once. With her car.”

Nicole grimaced in sympathy.

“Last year, we played at her Sweet Sixteen party, and Rodrick broke her ice sculpture bust. It was awesome,” Ben said.

“Oh, so you aren’t always perfect?” Nicole teased. Rodrick flipped her off.

Soon, they pulled up in front of Caitlin’s house. Nicole could already hear loud music from outside the house, and there were rainbow strobe lights flashing in the windows. Swallowing her nervousness, she followed Rodrick, Chris and Ben up the front walkway.

As they walked in the house, Nicole was hit by the fragrant, herbal smell of weed. From far away, the music had seemed loud, but coming in the house the music seemed to vibrate her ribcage - it was something with a repetitive bass, stuff Nicole didn’t normally listen to but she enjoyed it nonetheless. She followed Rodrick further into the house, trying to find the kitchen, weaving between people dancing and couples making out.

There were people surrounding an island in the center of the kitchen, decorated with colorful bottles of liquor and sodas to mix with. Nicole spotted Caitlin talking to a tall black guy, drinking out of a red solo cup. Nicole gave her a wave, and Caitlin excitedly came over to greet her.

“Hey! I’m so glad you made it.”

“Yeah, me too. I haven’t actually ever been to a high school party.”

Caitlin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Well, you’re gonna have one hell of a first high school party experience, girly. Let's get you a drink.”

Caitlin turned to the kitchen island and poured about four shots of rum and filled the rest with coke in a red solo cup. Nicole took a sip. She could barely tell it was spiked, so she took a few more chugs and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Do you wanna dance?” Caitlin asked, and Nicole nodded before following her back to the living room. Already, the rum was making her limbs feel looser and her brain fuzzy. She finished the rest of it in one go, enjoying the feeling of her nervousness and insecurities fading away. Nicole had never been unpopular, per say, but she tended to stay to herself and only had a few close friends at her old school, anyway. It was refreshing to feel included, and she couldn’t help feeling that this was the way her teenage years were supposed to be - loud and exciting and living moment to moment.

As they danced, Nicole swaying in place and occasionally spinning around, she couldn’t help but feeling a little awkward. Caitlin was actually a really good dancer - she knew how to move her body in all the right ways so they hit on beat with the music. Nicole envied her easy grace, but was quickly relieved when Caitlin accidentally bumped into someone, causing them to spill their drink. Nicole stifled a laugh, not at Caitlin’s expense, just at the irony of the timing. At least Nicole wasn’t the only clutz.

They had been dancing for only a few minutes before Nicole felt a hand on her waist, making her jump slightly.

“Hey, the guys and I are gonna smoke some weed in the backyard. Do you wanna come?” Rodrick said. His voice was almost in her ear, close enough that she could hear him over the blaring music, his breath tickling her sensitive skin.

She turned around to face him - in the dim light of the house, he looked much more appealing than usual - she hadn’t even noticed he had put eyeliner on, but it made the dark of his eyes look even more obsidian. Nicole nodded, giving a thumbs up, and pulled Caitlin along with her.

“I need you for moral support,” Nicole said, making Caitlin laugh.

“Have you ever smoked weed before?” Caitlin asked.

“Nope.”

Caitlin raised her eyebrows and pulled her closer as they walked to whisper in her ear.

“Okay, take a small hit the first time, don’t try to impress anyone. But breathe it fully into your lungs - I like to start by pulling it into my mouth first, and then inhaling fully. And if you cough, don’t worry, almost everyone does their first time.”

Nicole gave her a grateful look as they approached the circle of people sitting on lawn chairs in the backyard. Ben and Chris were already there, with two other girls Nicole didn’t know. However, there seemed to only be two more lawn chairs available to sit on.

Nicole was about to plop down on the grass before Caitlin grabbed her hand.

“You should sit on Rodrick’s lap,” she whispered, and Nicole almost choked on her drink.

“What?”

“Dude, he’s totally into you - I don’t know what your sitch is, but I think he’s probably a little nervous about making the first move. Just do it, and if he asks, say ‘sorry, there weren’t enough seats and I don’t wanna get bug bites from the grass.”

Nicole stared at her, mouth agape. The alcohol in her brain was telling her it might not be the worst idea ever. And you know what? Fuck it. You’re only young once. Nicole made up her mind, and squeezing Caitlin’s hand, she walked over to where Rodrick was sitting before primly making herself comfortable on his thigh.

She felt him tense beneath her immediately, before his hand came up to her waist to steady her. Before he had the chance to say anything about it, the joint was passed to him, and he took an impressive hit, the cherry glowing red at the end for several seconds. Nicole watched him with interest, hoping she wouldn’t mess up too badly and embarrass herself.

Rodrick looked up at her as he exhaled the smoke, holding the joint out to her. Not paying attention, and entranced by the eye contact they were holding, she reached out to take the joint without looking and promptly burned her hand on it.

“Fucker,” she hissed, shaking her hand to try and get rid of the pain. Rodrick just laughed.

“Do you want help?” Rodrick asked, before taking another hit of the joint. He reached up behind Nicole’s head, threading his fingers through her hair, before pulling her down close to his face, their lips inches apart. Nicole instinctively opened her mouth, half from surprise and half in anticipation of being kissed. But Rodrick simply blew a steady stream of smoke into her mouth, - their lips didn’t make contact. Belatedly, Nicole realized she was supposed to be inhaling, so she did quickly, trying to hold the smoke in her lungs for as long as possible.

Somebody wolf-whistled in the group. Nicole was pretty sure it was Caitlin.

Eventually, she ended up coughing it out, Rodrick rubbing her back but still laughing.

“You’re a green at the green, huh?” Rodrick asked, and Nicole rolled her eyes.

“That obvious?”

“Yeah, but it’s cute. I’m glad you’re having your first high with me,” Rodrick said, smiling sweetly. Nicole’s stomach fluttered. Already, she could tell that this wasn’t alcohol she was feeling anymore - the buzz she had been feeling earlier was replaced by something much slower and velvety, like the world was moving through maple syrup.

“Dude,” Nicole said after a minute, realizing she had been staring at nothing. Rodrick looked at her. She looked at him. They both started cracking up laughing.

“What are we laughing at?” Nicole hiccuped through her laughter.

“No idea,” Rodrick said, wiping his eyes free of tears of mirth.

“Rodrick, pass the J,” Ben called out, breaking the two of them from their trance. Without thinking about it, Nicole leaned back onto Rodrick’s chest, enjoying the warmth of his body. It wasn’t a cold night, per say, but Nicole was only wearing a skirt and a t-shirt, and she had always had poor circulation. She shivered involuntarily.

“Do you want my flannel?” Rodrick asked, already taking it off. Nicole sat up, ruffling his hair playfully.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just want to show off your arms,” Nicole said, slipping on the warm blue flannel and resting her hand on Rodrick’s exposed arm, once again in a cut-off tank top. Rodrick gave her a funny look.

“What do you mean?”

Nicole suddenly found herself tongue tied. “Uh. I mean. You just wear a lot of tank tops.”

Rodrick raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else. Nicole leaned back against him again, feeling simultaneously self-conscious and exhilarated. They had never touched for this long before. She wasn’t sure exactly what was happening between them, but she liked the direction it was going. Even though they hadn’t known each other long, Nicole felt more comfortable with Rodrick than she did anyone else - even though most of the time she had known him, he had been a nuisance to her. Well… maybe not a complete nuisance.

It was funny to think that only a few days ago, Rodrick was just an annoyance she dealt with at her job and admired from afar, and now she was sitting on his lap, wearing his flannel. She leaned her head back, looking at the stars. She hadn’t noticed that Caitlin had left, but suddenly she appeared over her line of vision, grinning.

“Do you want a beer?” she asked, holding a cold can over Nicole’s forehead. Nicole reached out to take it, sitting up before cracking it open. She wasn’t in the habit of enjoying beer for the flavor, so she’d rather get drunk off it quickly. It tasted like wet cardboard, but Nicole managed to chug it down.

“Damn, girl, where’d you learn to drink like that?” Chris asked, laughing as Nicole belched loudly.

“Years of rigorous practice and intense concentration, young padawan,” Nicole replied.

“Do you wanna shotgun one with me?” Chris asked, half-joking, but Nicole was feeling overly confident from the buzz she was feeling and readily stepped up to the challenge.

“Whoever spits it out owes the other ten bucks.”

“Fuckin’ deal,” Chris grinned, Ben cheering him on as he threw a beer toward Nicole. She (surprisingly) caught it.

“Wait, gimme one,” Rodrick said, making grabby hands in Ben’s direction, who threw him a beer.

“On three, okay?” Ben counted. They all started to crack open their beers, Nicole with her house keys, Rodrick with his car keys, and Chris with his pen knife.

“One.. twoooooo…. Three!” Ben yelled, and they all tipped their heads back, drinking from the hole in the side of the can. Nicole’s eyes watered, but she was too competitive to back down now. Foam spilled out of the side of her mouth, but she kept drinking. She could hear people chanting her name as she finally threw the beer can down on the ground, raising her hands in victory. Both Rodrick and Chris were covered in beer foam, but Nicole somehow stayed relatively clean, minus the beer she wiped off her face.

“Ten motherfucking bucks, Chris,” Nicole slurred slightly, grinning at him as he pulled out a crumpled bill from his pocket and threw it at her.

“Rodrick, how the fuck did you lose, dude? You were the one who taught me how to shotgun,” Ben said, causing Nicole to throw her head back in laughter, before letting out another massive burp that lasted for several seconds. The whole group dissolved into laughter.

Eventually, the joint got finished, and people started to move back inside. However, Rodrick and Nicole stayed outside, talking about whatever came into their heads.

“Were you ever into Greek mythology as a kid?” Nicole asked, watching Rodrick’s eyes go comically large.

“Does Percy Jackson count?”

Nicole pretended to consider it deeply for a moment, before shaking her head. Rodrick pouted.

“I only got into Greek mythology because of Percy Jackson. So, I think it still counts.

“Fine. But do you know shit about the constellations they’re associated with?”

Rodrick pointed at the sky, at a random cluster of stars.

“For sure - that's Dingus Humongus, he was a Greek hero with the fattest ass known to man.”

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” Nicole replied, sticking her tongue out as Rodrick squawked in indignation.

“Besides a fat ass, what do you look for in a guy? Not, like, that I care. Just. Wondering.”

“Very good English, Rodrick,” Nicole laughed, “I guess my type is… someone kind. And funny. Someone who tries to be cool and is actually a huge dork. And musical, that's always a plus,” she said, feeling very bold as she looked directly at him. It took Rodrick a moment, but eventually his mouth formed a small “oh” as he realized who she was talking about. His eyes flicked down to her lips. Then he frowned, “I am not a dork.”

Nicole rolled her eyes, “And I’m totally not waiting for you to kiss me right now.”

Nicole watched as the color slowly rose in Rodrick’s cheeks, turning them rosy pink, visible even in the shadow-drenched backyard. Nicole decided to pull yet another risky move, and adjusted herself on Rodrick’s lap so that she was facing him, her thighs on top of his arms around his neck. For such a seemingly confident boy, Rodrick seemed more nervous than she had ever seen him, even when he asked her to come to band practice earlier. Hell, he hadn’t even been that nervous to shotgun the joint into her mouth.

“Sorry, I just… I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. I don’t wanna be bad at it,” he confessed. Just as Nicole thought she couldn’t be any more endeared by this boy. She slid her hands into his hair, thick and soft. She leaned in and gently nosed at his jawline, placing small kisses against his warm skin. Right at his jugular, he smelled like cologne and nighttime and boy, the right mix of clean and sexy. Seemingly gaining his courage, he grabbed Nicole by the back of her head and brought her up to his lips.

It was soft, at first, merely a press of skin to skin, but the two gradually deepened the kiss, moving against each other like they were made for it. Nicole felt like her heart might beat out of her chest - or maybe she was just that high.

Feeling emboldened by Rodrick’s enthusiasm, she slipped her tongue between his lips, gently tangling their tongues together. He let out a low moan, and Nicole could’ve blacked out from how turned on she was by that simple sound. The warmth of his body against hers and the slickness of their mouths together caused a rush of liquid heat to form between Nicole’s legs. Goddamn, he was good at this. Nicole wasn’t sure how many girls Rodrick had kissed before this, but if he was a rookie at this she was damn impressed.

Rodrick’s hands, which had been resting on her waist, slowly moved down her ass and under her skirt, causing Nicole to gasp as he started to knead and grab at her cheeks - not hard, but enough to get her even more hot and bothered than she thought possible.

“Is this okay?” Rodrick asked, his voice low and rough.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Nicole replied, running her fingers through his hair and scratching her nails down his neck. She felt him shiver beneath her, sending a heady rush of power to her stomach and lower. He pulled her closer to him by her ass, so that their crotches pressed together. Nicole was taken aback by the sensation of his bulge pressed against her, but didn’t pull back, instead grinding down on him.

“Are there still people out here?” Rodrick asked shakily. Nicole pulled back and looked over her shoulder - the backyard was empty, thank god.

“No, just us,” Nicole said, turning back and bringing her lips to his ear, biting and licking the sensitive flesh. Rodrick whimpered, grinding up to meet her, and Nicole almost lost it then and there.

The alcohol and weed in her system were slowing her reactions, but also kept her from thinking too much about what she was doing - all she could think about was how much she wanted this. Sober, this might’ve never happened - she was too nervous about what he would think if she ever made a move, constantly overthinking her every word and action. This dumb boy, who rode with her to work, who stayed to the end of her shift and bought her slushies, had wiggled his way into her every thought and every beat of her heart. She knew she was fucked.

She only wished it was literally.

Nicole opened her eyes briefly to catch Rodrick’s gaze, and out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed the red-and-blue flash of police lights. Rodrick caught sight of the lights at the same time.

“Oh, fuck.”

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x original female character #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid #fanfiction #emo #music #band #emomusic

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midnight-queery · 3 years

Text

Superwoman

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476486/chapters/70718184

One second Kara was zooming through the weird light show the universe-jumping device always put on, eyes wide as she flashed through universe after universe on her way back to her own. The next second she blipped into existence right in the middle of an alien brawl and a giant purple fist hit her in the face. The next second? Nothing but darkness.

When Kara came to who knows how long later she was in the DEO, laid up in a hospital bed and with a familiar, worried pair of green eyes looking at her.

“Kara,” Lena sighed in relief. A moment later, however, she was glaring at her. “I know your journalism is very important to you, but you can’t get that close to an alien brawl.”

Kara stared at the dark-haired woman, blinking owlishly several times before finally opening her mouth to speak. “Lena, what-”

“Me? Lena? Pfft, I’m not Lena,” the person who was definitely Lena said defensively, her eyes looking anywhere but at Kara. “I’ll go get the doctor, you must have been hit harder than I thought.”

Just as Lena turned to go, Kara finally letting her eyes drop from Lena’s face to take in her outfit and physique and realizing that this Lena wasn’t her Lena, a commotion began in the control room. Lena turned towards the noise with wide, confused eyes, and after listening in Kara realized why: she was the one causing the commotion. Or rather, this Earth’s Kara was.

“That’s not me!” The other Kara yelled, running through the parting crowd of DEO agents and towards the med bay. “I saw,” she paused and gasped for breath and Kara felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, because if this Earth’s her was out of breath, and Lena was dressed like that, it could only mean one thing. “I saw you save her, on the news. And she’s not me, Superwoman.”

Lena turned to Kara with narrowed eyes, her brows scrunched together furiously, and Kara was fairly certain she was about to be laser beamed. She, however, had a much more pressing issue on her mind.

“Superwoman?!” Kara yelled, jolting to a seating position and pointing at Lena. “Superwoman? HOW? This didn’t make any sense in the first place and now you’re telling me you get to be Superwoman? And you even have pants already?!!” Kara was fuming, so angry the rest of whatever she was going to say was just a series of indignant and unintelligible sputters.

Lena looked taken aback at the blonde’s anger, and she took a few steps to the side so she was standing protectively in front of the other Kara.

Kara’s phone ringing cut off her attempts to form angry words from her angry spluttering and she yanked it out of her pocket, wishing she’d chosen to wear her suit instead of her civvies, discretion be darned. “What?”

“Kar? You good? I’m getting some weird readings from your suit,” Alex’s voice crackled through, broken up and staticky. Kara fiddled with the clunky device strapped to her phone and the yellow blinking light on it turned a steady green. “Kar? You there?” Alex’s voice was crystal clear now.

“Yeah, sorry. I had to adjust the turtle.” Kara’s focus was on her phone, though when a pale hand tried to snatch it away at super speed she easily evaded. “What the heck, Lena?”

“You’re communicating with Alex Danvers?” Lena hissed, her eyes actually beginning to glow blue. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Please tell me you didn’t blip into existence in the middle of one of Lena’s board meetings,” Alex said over the phone. “She was going to be pissed enough that we didn’t tell her you were going to another Earth!”

Lena’s eyes widened at that and she took a small step forward, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and concealing the searing red symbol of the House of El that stood out starkly against the mostly black super suit. “You really expect me to believe this Kara is from another Earth, and not some twisted clone you made, Alex?”

This Earth’s Kara rushed over and stopped beside Lena, her eyes wide. “You’re me from another Earth? A- and your Alex is good?”

Kara’s brow crinkled as she looked between the alternate her and super Lena (she was not going to call her Superwoman okay). “What do you mean, is my Alex good? Of course she’s good. Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Kara,” Lena said quietly, wide, concerned eyes trained on her Kara, whose chin was wobbling from the urge to cry.

“M- my Alex,” other Kara began softly, eyes trained on the floor. “She’s the head of an organization called CADMUS. She hates aliens to the point that it drove her insane. She’ll stop at nothing to kill Superwoman. She- she’s even used me against her a few times since she knows we’re friends.” Other Kara sniffled as Kara’s jaw dropped.

“Kara.” Alex’s voice sounded strained. “Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it does.”

“And what about Lex Luthor?” Kara asked, ignoring her sister.

“What about me?” Lex asked, strolling into view. He was wearing very familiar tactical gear. “I’m Lex Luthor, Director of the DEO, though it seems you already knew that. Care to explain how?” He narrowed his eyes at Kara, and she was astounded at how… normal he looked. The Lex in her universe had cold, dead eyes. This one’s eyes were hard, yes, and distrustful, but he stood close to his sister and the other Kara, almost… protectively? What was going on here?

“Oh Rao,” Kara breathed in realization. “Lena and I are switched in this universe. That’s why Lex is suddenly a good guy and Alex is, well, Lillian and Lex from my universe rolled into one.”

“What do you know of Rao?” Lena demanded, just as Alex asked, her voice sounding even more strained, “What do you mean you two are switched? And I am not Lillian and Lex rolled into one, Kara, you take that back or you are notgetting the last potsticker at game night ever again, I swear to god.”

“On my Earth I’m Supergirl,” Kara said, looking Lena dead in the eyes as she yanked her glasses off. The brightly colored suit materialized, and Kara had never been more thankful for the pants upgrade in her life. Being Supergirl was humiliating enough, but a skirt? Oof.

“Not Superwoman?” Other Kara asked curiously.

Kara grimaced at her human self. “Miss Grant wouldn’t budge on the name.” When she turned to Lena the woman’s eyebrows were furrowed.

“So you… grew up on Krypton, then? Like- like me?” Lena asked quietly, her voice vulnerable.

“Zhi,” Kara said quietly, her lips upturned in a small, sad smile. “I grew up Krypton, and I… I watched it explode right before my pod got stuck in the Phantom Zone.”

“Were you-”

“Awake?” Kara interrupted. Lena nodded, gulping. “Intermittently. It wasn’t…” Kara stopped and took a deep breath. “It was cold and dark and lonely and I thought for sure I’d be trapped there forever. Luckily for me, Aunt Astra needed a way to get Fort Rozz to Earth, and she was able to use my pod to do it.”

Lena and Lex exchanged a loaded look at the mention of Astra, and Kara had a feeling Lex had killed Lena’s aunt just as Alex had killed hers.

“Okay, weird as all this is,” Alex’s voice interjected, “The turtle currently has more charge than the device you’re using to get from universe to universe. At the rate the battery is draining you have two and half hours until you’ll be stuck in the universe you’re in right now, and you only have enough energy for one more jump. I think we need to call-”

“No!” Kara shouted, causing everyone gathered around her to jump. “No, Alex, you can’t call in Lena, she’ll be pissed that we didn’t call her in sooner and I’m really trying not to stress her out anymore than she has to be to run L-Corp. We can’t tell her I’m about to be stranded on an alternate Earth because I accidently broke the part of the jumper that controlled which Earth I land on! Maybe, uh, maybe this Lena can help!” Kara turned to super Lena with wide, desperate eyes. “Please tell me you’re as tech savvy here as you are on my Earth.”

“You do run a branch of LuthorCorp,” other Kara chipped in thoughtfully, “so you could probably help her. Me. Whatever, you get it.”

“I- wait, I’m not, what?” Lena spluttered, looking from her Kara, who apparently knew she was Superwoman, to the other Kara and back. “Oh Rao I didn’t correct her earlier! Lex!” Lena glared at her brother for not catching the slip, and he held his hands up in surrender.

“I was as delightfully distracted as you, sister dear,” Lex said lazily. “Besides, we both know Miss Danvers, at least thisMiss Danvers, isn’t exactly a security risk.”

All of their heads turned to the phone in Kara’s hand when they suddenly heard the muffled sound of several voices, most panicked, before it went silent. Then, “Kara Zor-El Dan-” a familiar voice growled. Kara’s yelp cut them off.

“Oh Rao! Alex, I told you not to call Lena in!”

“She didn’t,” Lena’s voice answered smoothly. “And Director Danvers will pay for that later. Right now we are going to get you back to this Earth, and then you and I are going to have a long, long talk about what exactly determines need to know information, are we clear?”

“Yes,” Kara muttered, staring sulkily at her phone, her bottom lip jutting out.

“Kara darling, I can hear you pouting, and it’s not going to work,” Lena said wryly, though she at least sounded a bit amused instead of the previous rip roaring enraged.

Other Lena didn’t seem to have heard a word of the conversation as she was still staring dumbly at her human Kara, and she finally managed to blurt out: “How did you know I was Superwoman?”

“Did I just hear that Earth’s version of me call herself Superwoman?” Lena’s voice purred, and Kara could just see the smirk on her face.

“You told me you flew to CatCo on a bus,” human Kara said, grinning at a now-blushing Superwoman.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Lena groused over the phone. “There is no way I would ever say that. Do Kryptonians have special idiot genes?”

Human Kara gasped as super Lena and Kryptonian Kara winced. “You can’t be mean to Lena,” human Kara scolded. “Even if you are a Lena! It’s still not allowed!” She put her hands on her hips and glowered at the phone Kara was holding, which Kara instinctively cradled closer in case the other version of her got any ideas.

On the other end of the phone Kara was pretty sure she could hear Alex laughing. Her Lena mumbled something that could maybe pass as an apology before telling Kara to stay out of trouble while she made a retrieval device and hanging up.

“Why is your Lena so cranky?” Other Kara asked, her eyes narrowed as she stared her doppelganger down. “Did you do something stupid?”

“I did something brilliant, actually,” Kara replied, smirking to herself. Her audience didn’t get it at all, of course, but she still found it funny. “Now then, since my Lena is working on things, it looks like I’ll be here for a little while yet. What else is wacky?”

“How would we know?” Lena countered, arching her eyebrow.

“It’s not fair that you can still do the eyebrow thing and you get superpowers,” Kara grumbled. “Being a superhero was my thing, darn it! And in one of the universes I accidently landed in, you were also a reporter, but I wasn’t a CEO! And in another one we were both CEO’s but we’d met when you tried to buy out my company! It isn’t fair!” Kara’s lip jutted out and her puppy dog eyes were in full effect now, and Lena looked surprisingly contrite considering she really couldn’t control any of that. Other Kara just rolled her eyes.

“Oh whatever, Supergirl. Put away the pout and let’s go get potstickers while we wait for your ride home.”

And so it was, that half an hour later, full of (literally) otherworldly potstickers and having momentarily forgotten that a pissed off Lena was waiting for her, Kara was perched happily on a chair in the DEO conversing with this Lena in Kryptonese (while human Kara watched enviously), waiting for her phone to ring.

Only apparently her Lena was feeling dramatic because instead of her phone ringing the portal device beeped a brief warning before opening a swirling vortex of light in the middle of the control room and a moment later Lena strutted out, angry eyes finding Kara immediately and one eyebrow already arched dangerously. “Thanks to you I had to wear my heels an extra hour,” Lena said, her glare somehow intensifying.

With a small eep Kara sped over and gently scooped a willing Lena into her arms. “Sorry, baby.”

“My stomach isn’t the one you should be apologizing too,” Lena grumbled, turning her glare to her very obviously pregnant stomach (though the glare immediately melted into a soft, if exasperated, look). She looped her arms around Kara’s neck and let her head fall against her shoulder as her eyes wandered the astonished crowd. When her eyes fell on herself, decked out in a supersuit and looking both hopeful and afraid at this sudden development, she rolled her eyes. “I’m assuming my lovely wife neglected to mention the fact that in our universe we’re married?”

“Uh, yeah,” other Kara said, her rounded eyes not leaving Lena’s stomach.

“Wait so the reason you didn’t want to stress me, uh, her, anymore was because I, I mean she, is p-p-pregnant?” Super Lena stuttered.

“Oh my god,” human Kara breathed in realization. “That why when I asked if your Lena was cranky cuz you did something stupid you said you’d actually done something brilliant and had that weird smirk on your face! You meant you did her!”

Super Lena choked on air at that one, and Kara’s wife gave her an exasperated look. “Really, babe?”

“Is it not true?” Kara counted, smirking at her wife for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “I am sorry for not telling you I was aimlessly universe hopping. I was just worried.”

Lena sighed and nuzzled into Kara’s neck. “I know. We’re still talking about this little incident later, though.”

“Where are the rings, if I may ask?” Lex queried, a strange look on his face.

Lena flinched at the sound of his voice and burrowed impossibly closer to Kara as she turned her wary gaze to her not-brother. Silently, she held up one hand, her ring glinting in the light. Kara, meanwhile, shot a significant glance to her own wrist, where a matching bracelet could be seen peeking out of the sleeve of her suit.

“How did I not notice that?” Super Lena whispered to herself, eyes now caught on the bracelet. She only managed to pull her gaze away when she realized her favorite heartbeat (her Kara’s) was pounding especially hard, and she chanced a glance over to see what could only be a look of longing on Kara’s face.

“Go for it,” Lena encouraged, happily going back to ignoring Lex’s existence and closing her eyes. “Also we’re going home now. I need a foot rub. And a nap.” A massive yawn punctuated her statement and Kara gave her an impossibly fond look before shooting her human self a wink and walking through the portal, her wife cradled safely in her arms.

#supercorp shorts #supercorp #supercorp fic #supercorp oneshot #kara danvers #lena luthor #universe jumping #alex danvers #lex luthor #poor superGIRL #supercorp crack

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obxdrewseph · 4 years

Text

Tik Tok - Rafe Cameron

Description: Rafe Cameron falls for a girl he often sees in a cafe and is too nervous to talk to her, so his best friend, Topper, decides to take matters into his own hands and makes a tik tok asking if anyone can identify Rafe’s crush. Of course, she sees it and confronts him.

P.S. pretend covid doesnt exist in this LOL

---------

“Bro, just do it.”

“No.”

“Rafe, c’mon man. When did you become such a pussy?”

“Shut the hell up man, I’m not.”

“Then ask her out!”

“No!”

It was your typical Wednesday afternoon-- the college cafe was bustling with students coming in and out from classes and from students mingling with their friends.

Rafe and Topper sat in the midst of all the chaos, ignoring their econ homework to stare at Rafe Cameron’s current obsession.

“How is this girl different from any other you’ve liked? Just man up and ask for her number or something.”

Rafe Cameron.

Notorious player on campus. And douchebag. He was the type to sleep with a girl and kick her out of his room at 3 in the morning. He never had strong feelings for a girl, which is why Topper was baffled at the fact he kept staring at the dark haired, brown eyed plain Jane in the corner of the coffee shop.

“Look, she’s just a pretty girl. And she just looks... shy I guess.” Rafe lamely said. He didn’t know why he wasn’t just barging up to her like he normally did at parties. Of course, those girls were clawing to get to him. He didn’t have to work as hard.

Topper sighed loudly. “Fine, fine. If you’re gonna force my hand.”

Rafe raised a brow as Topper slowly pulled his phone from his pocket.

He then began to film the girl and zooming in on her face.

“Top, what are you--”

“Ssssh.”

After 30, long, agonizing seconds for Rafe Cameron, his best friend finally stopped filming the poor girl.

“Does anyone know this girl? This loser wants to ask her out...” He spoke as he typed.

“No wait--”

“Done. Just posted on tik tok.”

Rafe’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

“Now, we wait.”

-------

You had a long day of classes and all you wanted to do was fall in your bed.

But no, as a history major, you had to read 250 pages (the entire book needed to be read by the end of the week, but you were spacing), write detailed notes on them, and then start on your essay that is due next week.

You always liked to get ahead of schedule so that your work wouldn’t pile up.

After sitting in the cafe for an hour, you had to go home to cook dinner. You hated eating at cafes since bread just wasn’t your thing.

Once you hit your dorm room, you checked your phone that seemed to have hundreds of notifications.

"The fuck?” You whispered out loud. As an RA, you could say whatever you wanted to in your room, but you still felt weird swearing in front of others. Which is why you whispered the words to yourself.

You dropped your bag at the door and quickly opened your phone.

GIRL, CHECK TIK TOK

Congrats, you’re famous! don’t forget me lol

rafe cameron ?? honeyyy get itttttt

Confusion. That’s all you felt. You quickly clicked on the link on of your friends sent you.

You watched the video set in as Topper, the owner of the account, zoomed in on your face at the cafe you were just in. You didn’t think you looked pretty as your hair was a mess and you hadn’t showered in a couple of days.

Not to mention you were wearing jeans and a baggy t-shirt-- the normal college attire.

As you read the caption, you felt your heart race at an abnormal rate.

The words became blurry fairly quickly as your stress started to build up. You set your phone down on the counter to avoid dropping it-- you were rational enough to do that.

You kept getting texts from your closest friends saying two words: Call me. But at this point, you couldn’t even think straight. What was a hot, popular guy like Rafe Cameron doing pining over you? And apparently being too afraid to ask you out?

Honestly, you had never been hit on in your first two years of college and you didn’t think it was going to start with Rafe Cameron, the richest guy at the school. And every straight college girl’s wet dream.

You heard your phone buzz on the counter and you checked caller ID. It was your best friend.

You took a deep breath and answered it.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you were dating Rafe Cameron.” She joked.

“Shut up! Tell me what to do!!” You screamed.

“Ok, ok, I can tell you’re freaking out and nervous, but this is a good thing! A happy thing! A guy liked you so much that he put a video--”

“His best friend posted the video--”

“As I was saying, put a video out about YOU! This is your chance to finally have the romance you’ve always dreamed of, right? You’re always pining after those book boyfriends or whatever who AREN’T REAL.”

She emphasized the last part which made you cringe. Your obsession with fictional characters was justified-- if she read, she would know.

“Dude, this is Rafe. Rafe fucking Cameron.” She gasped at your swearing, a joke both of you had because you’ve known each other since you were children.

“Exactly, it’s Rafe motherfucking Cameron, meaning, you HAVE to go after him.”

“No, you’re wrong! He’s Rafe Cameron! If he was really into me, he would’ve asked me out already. Literally no one can say no to him nor does anyone want to.” You bit your lip, thinking of ways to get out of this. “You know what? I bet this is a prank or something.”

“A prank?”

“Yeah, like Topper trying to embarrass Rafe by making an ugly girl ask him out--”

“First of all, don’t talk about yourself like that. And second, no, tik tok is not the place to embarrass girls. They would get roasted so hard. And third, THIS IS YOUR CHANCE.”

Contrary to your best friend, you never seriously wanted a relationship. You were the type to fantasize about falling in love and hyped up all of your friends when they had crushes, but you never truly found someone you wanted to get to know or wanted to date.

It just seemed so outlandish to you.

Plus, you wrote off college boys when one followed all of your roommates on instagram besides you. That kinda knocked your ego down.

“Look, I’m just going to ignore this. I don’t think it’s going to be the love story you think so I’m gonna go.”

“Wait, y/n--”

You hung up before she could finish.

You just couldn’t deal with her hopeless romanticism right now.

You sighed and tied your hair into a messy bun. How could you finish your homework now?

--------

“I don’t think she saw it.”

Topper laughed at his nervous looking friend.

“Dude, she definitely saw it. It has thousands of likes the last time I checked and I’m pretty sure people were tagging her in the comments.”

Rafe fixed his hat so it covered his face. He definitely didn’t want his friend to notice it turning beet red.

“I hate you dude.”

“No you don’t.”

Once again, the two rich boys were sitting in the same cafe they were in yesterday. They had been sitting in there for two hours now, and there was no sign of the mysterious girl who did or did not know she was tik tok famous.

“I don’t think she’s coming.” Rafe commented. On one hand, he was relieved he wouldn’t have to talk to her. But on the bigger hand, he desperately wanted to see her again. He didn’t know why he was so captivated by her brightly dyed hair or the 10 pins stuck on her backpack. She seemed so normal, yet she stuck out with all the book stickers she had on her laptop. Rafe would never tell a living soul that he liked reading YA romance novels but he felt like he could confide in this mysterious girl.

“I don’t know. It’s still early.” Topper noted.

“Um, excuse me?”

The two boys’ heads shot up at the dainty voice.

You were wearing black ripped jeans with a white top; it was the most simple outfit Rafe had seen you in as you usually dressed in bright colors. He would never admit it, but he even noticed when you changed your nail polish.

What Rafe didn’t know was that your best friends held an intervention last night and told you to dress “more to his style” which included simple attire. Yet, you couldn’t fully immerse in the role and wore your favorite bucket hat that was covered in white daisies.

“Hey,” Rafe said lamely.

Topper immediately gathered his stuff and left you two alone. What a homie.

At Rafe’s bland answer, you smiled politely.

“Can I sit?” You asked. Rafe nodded and gestured towards the seat. He didn’t know why he was acting so weird, but you were just so much prettier up close.

He could see the bright red earrings you wore that matched your Nikes and noticed your clumsily applied makeup (which he knew because his sister was so good at it). It only made his heart race even faster.

“Um, so I saw the video... I’m sure you know which one I’m talking about.”

The boy blushed.

“Yeah?” He tried to act suave and calm, but his nerves were all over the place. He felt a bit calmer seeing the girl start to play with her hair: a nervous trait his sister said most girls had.

“Um, well, I... I was wondering...” The girl trailed off, her face turning a darker red. He almost felt bad for her, but she was so darn cute and wanted her to continue.

“Look, I’m really bad at this... and I know you’re good at it, so...”

The boy’s ego inflated slightly.

“So?”

This wasn’t going the way you wanted it to go. You felt frustrated that you couldn’t even get the words out that you practiced. Your eyes prickled with tears from embarrassment; you wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. You didn’t know what you were thinking approaching the hottest guy in campus and expect not to be tongue tied.

And his lack of words made you think he was just messing with you.

You felt a gentle hand on top of yours which burst your drama bubble. You looked up and saw Rafe’s bright blue eyes full of concern, and... something else.

Dammit, he probably thinks I’m a weirdo.

“Hey, it’s ok. Honestly, it was my friend, the one who left earlier, it was his idea to put the video up and he did it without my permission. If it were up to me, it would’ve taken a lot longer to pluck up the courage to approach you...” He confessed.

This shocked you. Rafe Cameron... tongue tied around you??

“Look, let’s start over. I’m Rafe Cameron, junior, business major, and fun fact: I’m on the hockey team.” You knew all of those details, but you let him give a formal introduction. You thought it was cute that he felt the need to explain all of this to you because there wasn’t anyone at your campus who didn’t know who he was.

You held out your hand.

“Y/N, a sophomore and a history major. Fun fact: I’m an RA.” His eyes brightened at your response and shook your hand with a smile.

He had to practice his stern handshake with businessmen his father forced him to meet, but your hands were gentle and soft, like they were afraid of hurting him. It’s been a while since someone has treated him so delicately. He liked it.

“Well, y/n, it’s a good thing I don’t live in the dorms because I definitely would’ve tried to act up to get your attention.” He teased.

You laughed at the response because you knew a couple of the young freshmen who made a ruckus in the lounges so that you had to come in and yell at them.

You shrugged. “I don’t know, we could’ve met sooner if you were.”

The flirty words flowed from you naturally and you wanted to take them back as soon as they left your mouth.

But they made Rafe Cameron blush, so you let it go.

Suddenly, his watch buzzed and he swore under his breath.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I have a business meeting to get to. Can I get your number for uhhh... for future purposes?”

His slight fumble of words made you grin.

“Of course.”

I guess tik tok is good for something.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron scenarios #rafe cameron imagines #outer banks #obx #obx scenarios #outer banks scenarios #drew starkey #drew starkey scenarios #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x reader #obx rafe #obx rafe cameron

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

jjk; angel’s trumpet [02]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 3.5k a/n; i know it feels like a lot of bg and internal conflict but y/n!! our girl is struggling! she’s processing and is going through some times BUT things will spice up soon so thank you for all the love +notes, see you again thursday!

[01] [02] [03]-> masterpost

The two most frequent contacts in your phone (you hope it’s your phone? It’s the same edition and everything) are Jimin and Taehyung.

Jungkook (or not-Jungkook) high-tailed it out of there as soon as he deemed your reactions unfit for basic human society. He muttered that you were crazy and probably under something, and sped off in his motorcycle just like that. Like you were a stranger.

It's not easy to ignore the aftermath of your heart after taking yet another rejection, but you're independent and you must stride forward in this strange situation. Taking a cautionary look around the area, you clutch your phone like a lifeline, tethering you together in this unfamiliar place. There's not many people around, but you spot a large library and a playground. Professionals are mulling from building to building, zombies in wrinkled suits and dripping iced coffees. Your phone displays an innocent 7:51, revealing how early it is. Toggling between the two friends in your contacts you take your chances and start with Jimin. The phone rings once, twice, before his dulcet voice chimes in your ear.

“Babe?” he croons, and your heart drops at the sickly warm tone, “you can’t get enough of me after what we did last night?”

You’re going to throw up. Scratch that, acid is already bubbling through your throat and you force yourself to tamp it down. There is no, no way in hell could you have hooked up with Park Jimin in your lifetime.

Unless this is hell.

“Jimin,” you steel your voice, hoping he can’t hear how absolutely mortified you are. You can picture this version of Park Jimin now, laying around in bed with crossed legs and casually enjoying how much you’re squirming on the other line, “I just need you to tell me where I live so we can move on with our lives.”

He laughs, giggles bubbling like soft pink champagne. “Wow, I really must’ve fucked your brains out if you can’t even remember where you live.” God, in what life would Park Jimin be “fucking your brains out”? Maybe you should find a trashcan just in case you do puke on the sidewalk. “Y’know, you signed your lease with Taehyung a month ago? You just moved in last week?”

“T-Taehyung?” you stutter, trying to imagine the notion, “I live with Taehyung?”

A beat passes, and you realize that just like you scared not-Jungkook away, you could be doing the same to Jimin.

He says your name softly, gone the cocky tone you were initially bombarded with. “Are you okay? You could’ve waited for me to wake up, y’know. We had a lot to drink last night.” he mumbles, almost cutely if it weren’t for the fact the he was insinuating sex two seconds ago, “Did you eat?”

“‘M fine,” you mumble, trying to chalk up your previous question with inhiberation. “Just loopy, I guess. I almost got hit by a motorbike, so my brain is probably just catching up.”

“You got hit? Did you call a hospital?” great, now Jimin’s panicked. “Where are you? I’m gonna go get you. Drop your location, I’m leaving now!”

“I’m fine!” you snip, and you feel bad for nearly screaming on the line. “I’m almost home, I’m just gonna lay in bed and sleep it off. I’ll call you later, okay?”

You don’t bother hearing his response, and you hang up. You then start to furiously scroll Taehyung’s chat wall, noting that he’s on an academic trip with his students until next week and you have the apartment to yourself. After a good ten minutes of scrolling and reading conversations that you can’t recollect you finally catch the address to your shared apartment.

The city is the same, fortunately. So are the bus stops, and you’re thankful that your bus pass has some fare money. Turns out you’re starting your journey at the University of Seoul. The bus routes are the same as well, and you manage to take a tour of your side of the city, noting the tiny differences in the town.

For example, there’s no BigHit Entertainment in its usual spot. Instead it’s an additional practice space for Cube Entertainment.

There’s no fanfare to your city tour, and it almost feels like you’re just a normal woman taking a ride home. There’s still the same trees and squirrels, familiar odeng stands and ice cream shops. It feels like you’ve been cut and pasted into this world with no rhyme or reason, a fever dream.

The bus circles around the usual route once more until you’re in front of your supposed home, only a twenty minute bus ride from where Jungkook almost ran you over.

It’s a lot, and you realize on the drive over that you’re probably in deeper shit than you could ever imagine. You pull out your keys, and instead of seeing the ramen keychain Jungkook got you when he went to Tokyo Disney, instead it’s replaced by a university ID labeled Assistant Professor under your full name.

You pin that new fact for later and focus on getting inside.

Your apartment is nice, you muse. Simple black and white furniture, but there’s a definitive home-ness to it. There’s a moss green afghan folded up on the couch, presumably made by the artist himself. You’re glad Taehyung’s appeal for the arts hasn’t been lost, as revealed by the frames on the walls detailing pictures of you and Taehyung’s families, and some of Jimin and Taehyung.

Deeper into the apartment you find your room. You choke back a sob at the familiar bedsheets your parents bought you at Target, and you even notice some familiar clothing pieces folded haphazardly in the corner. Instead of your bed being filled with shameless BT21 PR however, your RJ and Mang are replaced with simple panda and cat plushies.

Finally letting your tears fall, you sob loudly into your pillows, hugging and grappling at anything to comfort you. You feel achy and tired, as if your heart has fallen out of your body and nothing can fill the void. As much as your bed sheets feel the same, as genuine as those pictures are in your shared living room, this isn’t your home.

•━━━━━━»••»💮💮💮«••«━━•

Between your bouts of crying and forcing yourself to stomach cheap ramen, you find out a couple of things.

You’re an assistant professor at Seoul University. At least this version of you is. A little part of you is pleased by this, you have always wanted to teach at the university level before settling with BigHit. To your chagrin however, you’re not a language professor.

To your horror, you’re a pre-medical student teaching two “History of Neuroscience” classes. It’s only two classes because according to your Google calendar, you’re also balancing the completion of your final thesis on muscular dystropathy among low-income neighborhoods.

Dear god, if your parents ever found out you could’ve been a doctor in another life, they’d be surely choking on their own spit. In this world, you probably weren’t lazy and wholly capable of achieving the impossible.

You don’t know why you spend the next two hours sending emails to your students about cancelling the next week of classes. Fortunately all your lessons are neatly packaged in your drive, and you send out an email with said lessons citing your mental health and how you’ll resume direct instruction the following week.

From time to time, your eyes can’t help but travel to the frames and polaroids that decorate your walls. Some of the memories are vaguely similar, a house in the suburbs, an annoying cousin who can’t stop and won’t stop pulling at your pigtails, a movie night with unlimited pizza and breadsticks.

Some of them are far and beyond your state of recognition. Jimin and you playing hopscotch by the river, Taehyung stuffing his face with fried potato skins in a cheap hole-in-the-wall, you winning the blue ribbon at your high school’s science fair.

You could very well walk out of this life and just focus on going back home, but something tells you that you need to continue on with this life, at least for now.

It feels too real to be a dream. When you tug at your hair tie, it’s painful when it snaps across your wrist. Your skin blooms with color upon impact. Could you die in this world? If Jungkook had not skidded in time, would you have survived a motorcycle accident?

Three days pass like that. You’re contemplating, absorbing information. In-between pints of ice cream and crying your ducts out, you’re drawing conclusions. Could you be in a coma? A very realistic, painful coma? But Jimin and Taehyung are still sending you texts and the day turns to night as painfully slow as it always has. A coma can’t fake a forty person class, all of them vying for your attention through various emails and Zoom calls. It can’t be it.

And as you rummage through your drawers, check every bit of social media and even your yearbook photos, you also confirm that Jeon Jungkook has no place in this version of your life. It saddens you greatly, and reminds you eerily about the heated conversation you had before all of this. The Jungkook from days ago, the one who looked terrified when you tried to touch him, only met you through happenstance.

By day four, you get a phone call. There’s no picture next to the contact, only named Biggie Mentor. After a few rings, you finally get the courage to answer the call.

A deep timbre seeps its way through the line, and you almost whine at how much you missed him. “y/n,” Namjoon says, but he doesn’t sound happy, “tell me why our students said you cancelled all of your classes this week due to mental health?”

If Namjoon’s your mentor, that means you’re probably in deep shit for cancelling all your classes without his consent.

“Uh, exactly that,” you say, and it hurts how much you have to strain your voice, trying not to pour any type of affection into this version of Namjoon. You’ve always had a soft spot for his gummy smile. “I’m sorry for not telling you beforehand. Something really traumatic just happened and,” you choke back a sob, trying to cover the microphone, “and I really needed some space.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” his voice is like melted honey, and you close your eyes and picture yourself back at BigHit, Namjoon’s happy smile whenever he tries to cheer you up. It only makes you even more upset, and your mind is all shadowed and filled with fuzzies as you attempt to picture Namjoon as your boss, “I was just shocked, that’s all. Is everything alright?”

“No,” you reply truthfully, “and I don’t know if it will be.”

There’s a terse silence, both your breaths hanging on the line with no move to continue the conversation. If your personality here is similar to your true world, you would understand why Namjoon would have a hard time formulating a reply. You don’t even know how close you are with him here. What remains is that you’re the type to keep your secrets to yourself, and if they truly felt hindering, you’d tell somebody. Not to say you’re the suffer in silence type of person, but you weren’t one to immediately dump your feelings on someone.

Finally, Namjoon musters a reply, “I have a break at two. Why don’t you swing by our usual lunch spot and we can talk? Their sandwiches always cheer you up. ”

“Joonie,” your voice cracks, and you shake your head despite the fact that he can’t see you. A slip of the nickname comes out before you can help it, and you hope this Namjoon is fond of the manner. “I don’t know where that is. Or what our ‘usual’ spot is. I don’t know what sandwiches you’re talking about either.”

“Okay,” and you relax at the calmness in his tone, “I’ll swing by after my 5PM then. Set the table for us, yeah?”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Namjoon smells of dry-erase marker and antiseptic.

He’s bounding into your apartment like it’s his own home, carrying two paper bags and a stack of leather bound books. The items fly across your coffee table, and you two work together to organize both your dinner and the books. Namjoon looks like a textbook nerd, wearing shades of burgundy and burnt orange as he breaks into your front door. Gone are the boots and sleek outfits that trim his figure, and you can’t help but go a little anti-starstruck at how normal this moment is.

But what remains is the bumbly stance as he makes his way through your tiny space, long limbs and all flailing to help you place his work in a safe space. The curve of his nose and dimples so deep you could fill a lake in them, you can’t help but muster a shy smile as he takes notice that you’re staring at him a little too much for comfort.

The two of you eat in relative silence, and you gratefully accept the bag he pushes in your direction. To your surprise the sandwich inside is a favorite combination of yours, and you wonder if this restaurant exists in your world.

Your world.

“Namjoon,” you place your sandwich down, despite the fact that your stomach is protesting for you to finish the first real meal you’ve had in days, “you know that movie, Avengers?”

Namjoon’s face is puffed with bread, and you hand him a water bottle to chug it down. “Dunno,” he shrugs, “Marvel isn’t a popular franchise, so even if I had I wouldn’t remember.”

“Marvel isn’t popular—” what kind of fucked up world is this? Your Jungkook would have a field day if he was in your shoes. “Anyway. There’s a concept from Marvel that there’s multiple Earths. Like you can create a rip in space and land yourself in another dimension if you’re not too careful. Do you think it’s possible?”

Your tall mentor pushes his charcoal hair back, exasperated. “Is this why you’re taking off? Because you believe in some silly comic book series?”

You feel your heart cracking, desperately trying to keep itself together. In your haste you grip Namjoon’s arm, desperate. “Please, just hear me out.” you warble, “a few days ago I was out drinking with a friend. Next thing I know, I’m in another world where I run into a boy. That boy is my friend, but he says he doesn’t recognize me! But I don’t recognize this life. Namjoon I can’t even imagine you wanting to be a doctor!”

Namjoon is looking at you funny, and you know he’s really trying to believe you. Instead of the reassuring words you hope for, he instead says, “this isn’t even pseudoscience, y/n. This is supernatural! How could you possibly think you’re from another dimension? I just saw you last week and everything was fine!”

“I saw you last week too!” you exclaim, clutching your chest, “and you cried again for the umpteenth time because you lost another pair of custom Airpods.”

A pause. “That does sound like me.”

Hope blooms in your stomach. “Doesn’t it?”

“Well, in this supposed other life. What is my profession?”

Your face falls. “Uh, you’re in a worldwide K-pop band. You’re making millions and producing beautiful music.”

That sounded way better in your head. Out loud it sounded absolutely bonkers. You don’t even blame Namjoon when he bursts out laughing, wiping tears from his eyes. You let him, sinking further into your seat and hugging your knees. You really hoped Namjoon would’ve come through for you.

However you’re not laughing along with him, and he immediately stops at your teary expression. He pushes himself over to you with his long legs, quickly moving to prevent yourself from tucking into your shell. He sees how small your form becomes and he reaches over to place a hand over your hair. “You’re really upset over this, aren’t you?” he questions aloud, and he can’t piece it together, “did you hit your head or something?”

Defeated, you explain, “I may have gotten hit by a motorcycle the other day.”

“What?” he squeezes your shoulder, “well, that explains a lot! What if you’re hallucinating? What if you have a concussion? You could be suffering from short-term memory loss!”

You’re sure it’s none of those things, but you let him ramble. The explanation is clear-cut and so painfully normal that it’s the only conclusion that Namjoon will cling to. Your mentor insists you take a medical leave, and says he’ll take over your classes in the meantime. He gives you a number to call, explains there one of the best doctors for trauma and motor incidents. You don’t say anything to that, but you accept the number and lie when you say you’ll call them in the morning. Namjoon still treats you like a friend however, despite your fruitless confession, and you concede that his comfort is more than enough after such a rough week.

•━━━━━━»••»💮💮💮«••«━━••

It’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve contacted Jimin.

Sure, Jimin’s contacted you. A couple flirty texts here, some low-key sexy selfies there. Usually, you’d eat that up like honey and butter. Now, there’s only one-word replies and half-hearted attempts at continuing a conversation. He loosens his tie, thankful he’s working out of the office today. He can look at his phone all he wants, and no one will judge him.

Jimin finally looks up at the photographer his marketing company contracted, who’s still mulling over the contract. “We’re not trying to jip you, promise.” Jimin assures, and he almost laughs at the comical way the young man’s large eyes catch his concern. “You’ll get all that money, and then some if you need to work overtime. It’s a sweet gig.”

“Yeah,” the young man nods, and grabs the pen to sign at the bottom. “Looking forward to working with you.”

“Same to you, Mr. Jeon,” Jimin grins, meeting him halfway across the table, “I’ve seen your work, I’m sure the commercial will be beautiful.”

“You can call me Jungkook,” the new employee flashes him a quick grin, taking his palm in his. Jimin tries not to twitch at this cute kid, who is both devastatingly handsome and cute at the same time. He’s a little jealous, a little attracted.

“Great, because Mr. Park is my dad. Jimin’s fine.”

It’s then that Jimin’s phone lights up, both pairs of eyes darting to the picture of you decorating the wallpaper.

While it’s not a completely flattering picture (you’re asleep with your wire-rimmed glasses half-off and there’s drool dribbling down your chin.) However it’s definitely you, the person Jungkook nearly killed a couple days ago.

Jungkook’s mouth goes dry, and he lets go of Jimin’s hand like it’s fire. Jimin hardly notices, grabbing his phone in hope that you replied to his text. To his despair, it’s just Taehyung. He ruffles his hair in frustration, letting the slick ebony strands fall out of his hairstyle.

“Fuck,” Jimin curses, shoving his phone in his blazer.

“Everything alright?” Jungkook asks, trying to be polite. On the other hand, he’s rather curious about the girl from weeks ago, who still hasn’t left his mind.

In the heat of the moment, Jungkook left the scene with you blubbering on the road. How wide your eyes were with recognition, and almost mother-like as you coddled him like someone to protect. He’s felt bad about it since, but he had an interview with Jimin’s boss and he couldn’t blow a job opportunity. It couldn’t be helped that your sad expression has been his midnight fixation when he can’t sleep or has a creative block. He should’ve at least called a cab to take you to the hospital or something, you were clearly not in the right mind.

“Yeah, it’s just a friend.” Jimin forces a smile, not wanting to dump his baggage on the new employee. “She almost got hit by a motorcycle the other day,” Jungkook masks a wince, remembering the horror he felt when he saw you, just lying there across the street. “Ever since then, she just hasn’t been herself. I’m just worried. It’s like she’s seen a ghost or something.”

“Oh,” Jungkook steals a glance at Jimin’s phone again, hoping to see your picture light up again. He does feel a little guilty pushing you off him and running away, but then again it was you that started being weird.

How did you know him, and why were you so concerned for his well-being? Would he get fired if he asked Jimin about you? That would be the quickest job he ever got contracted for. Instead, Jungkook forces a smile and offers a neutral, “Well, I’m sure things will work out.”

“Thanks, I hope so too.”

Jungkook’s palms are sweaty, as if it’s a dark premonition that something will happen. With Jimin around supervising him, he has a feeling that if things don’t work out, things will happen regardless.

Maybe he’ll understand why you were so concerned for a stranger’s well-being, and why you looked at him like that.

Like someone in love.

#jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fluff #goldenclosetnet #thekpopnetwork #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #bts fluff #jungkook scenarios

275 notes · View notes

ikemenshakespeare · 3 years

Note

Hi again! Sorry for sending this in a bit late but thank you for letting me request!! 🤗💖 Since we both love Napoleon I was wondering if it would be alright to ask for a fic/headcanons (whichever you want! ^^) for Napoleon with a Reader who can fly? I know, odd request, but I’m interested to see your interpretation! ^^ Thanks so much again! ❤️💞✨

“Napoleon!” Isaac burst through the doors leading into the dining room, he was panting heavily. The frantic tone in his voice had Napoleon on his feet immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Before issac had the chance to respond you came rushing in after him looking just as frantic. You completely ignored his presence, all your energy aimed towards Isaac.

“Whoa whoa whoa- wait just a minute! We didn’t agree to this! This was supposed to stay between you and I!” The words rushed out of your mouth so fast it was as if you’d vomit them. Your hand slapped across your mouth and you stood wide eyed, pale as a ghost. Napoleon narrowed his eyes at you. What could you be hiding that you couldn’t tell your own boyfriend... and yet you told Isaac? Napoleon wasn’t one to get jealous but what he felt was undeniable.

“You two are keeping secrets now? Didn’t realize you’d grown so close.” Issac sighed loudly.

“Honestly! We hardly have time for a lovers quarrel!...” mostly from the shock of being told off Napoleon decided to keep his mouth shut for the time being. Isaac never showed this side of himself either. It was a day of firsts and it wasn’t about to end there although you wished it would. You gave it one last desperate attempt and interjected again.

“But- you told me you were going to get something, NOT someone! What are you planning to use Napoleon’s help for?” Deadly serious Issac looked at the man in question.

“Napoleon, what do you think of the idea of flying?” At first he cocked his head quizzically at the question. Did he mean flying as in what Jupiter does? Or was he referring to the stories of machines you’d told him about, the ones that fly freely through the air in your time? Running those thoughts through his mind he realized they didn’t make sense, considering he already knew about those things. Instead of trying to get in Issaac’s fast moving mind he asked him to elaborate. Within thirty minutes issac had laid out a theory on human flight, physically, and it sounded like nonsense to him. Isaac had been walking while he talked, the two of you following at his back. Next thing you knew he’d led the two of you all the way outside the mansion and to a clearing. It seemed to be a field of grass and flowers, then their appeared to be a sudden drop off... a cliff. Glancing your way Napoleon could tell with every step forward you were becoming more nervous. He stopped in his tracks.

“I mean no offense when I say this, but you’re sounding less like a genius and more like a mad man by the minute. Something like that couldn’t happen.”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t fully understand it myself... like I said before, I can only theorize how it’s happening. But I can assure you it’s true, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Issac looked to you. Your heart beat out your chest, a nauseous feeling coming over you. “It’s MC, I’ve seen her do it. She’d come to me a couple months ago saying their may be something wrong with her. That something about herself had changed since passing through those doors of Le Comtes. When she told me what that something was I laughed and said the same thing you did. That it’s not possible...” Bewildered Napoleon glanced between the two of you, then shook his head disagreeing.

“It is possible Napoleon, and I know how it sounds but at the end of the day it’s just as crazy as saying their’s a mansion full of vampires... and yet that’s all true, right? I’m really sorry for not telling you before... I was just scared.” After finally hearing the words come from your mouth, Napoleon seemed to trust it. Although he remained curious.

“So how’d you prove this to Isaac in the first place?” The conversation was bouncing from person to person, Napoleon thought he’d been speaking to you and yet it was Isaac who answered.

“Bloody hell! She only flung herself off the second story balcony right in front of me!” You snapped back immediately at his curt responce.

“You just said so yourself that you’d been laughing at me, You thought I was just spouting off like a fool! I was really worried at the time ya know!” You crossed your arms over your chest pouting. Surprising the both of you Napoleon started laughing.

“I don’t know how it is I can help in this situation, but after hearing all your theories and stories I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see you fly first hand.” As the nerves began to build in your stomach again, Issac smirked.

“We’ve tested things out a few times so I don’t see why we couldn’t give you a demonstration.” All to quickly the three of you made your way to the edge of the cliff. Issac positioned you so your arms were out streched wide, your back facing the drop off. Issac quickly shrugged off his coat and handed it to you. The knuckles in your left hand turned white from how tightly you were squeezing it. You could only stare on at the two of them while Issac began to explain. “This is the same routine we’ve been doing the past couple days. I’ll set MC up in different ways then ask her to fall back. She can choose whether to zoom about or stay in one place. Either way she’ll stay levitated. However, I noticed her hair flowed in strange ways even when she wasn’t moving. Even if the air was still and she wasn’t physically moving her hair and clothing appeared to have no sense of gravity to them. The last thing I did before coming to look for you was have MC take my sweater with her when she jumped.” Issac turned to you and nodded, signaling you to jump. Even the thought of putting on this show for Napoleon made you so anxious you wanted to pass out. somehow though, you managed and fell back. For only a moment you disappeared below where they could see you. You heard what you could assume to be napoleons rapid foot steps approaching the edge. A stifled scream of your name caught in his throat. It was caught there because no sooner has he ran to the edge, did you come rising up. Your hair and clothing levitated in the light breeze along with Issac’s sweater which seemed to be floating on its own beside you. You knew better though. “Do you see it Napoleon?? The sweater is floating aswell! I’m quite positive anything MC is touching while she’s in the air will have this same effect. And that’s why we called you here.” Napoleon looked only at you, star struck by the sight he was seeing. If there was such a thing as a goddess you must’ve been one, that’s what he was thinking. If not for your overall beauty and pure personality alone, this most defenitly set you apart from any other women he’d seen. You were frozen in midair. The time of day was at its best with golden hour on the rise, it approached your skin leaving you stained in its colors. Gorgeous. You came back to the moutains edge, knocking Napoleon out of his trance.

“I can’t allow him to jump with me! That’s just crazy! We don’t know if the same thing will happen if it’s something as heavy as another human!”

“I’ll go.” He responded to quickly for you to wrap your head around. You faced Napoleon, confusion spreading wide across your face.

“You both must be crazy then!”

“This is actually rather perfect if you ask me. I knew to ask Napoleon to do this over anyone else for two reasons. One obviously being because he’d do anything as long as it was beside his beloved,” you both blushed furiously at that. “And two because he’s the only man crazy enough and the only man to survive a fall off a cliff before.” The last part he winked.

“That’s a bad joke!” You weren’t any less worried and yet Napoleon’s contagious laughter reached your ears once again.

“But most importantly that was actually three reasons, come now Issac. You’re supposed to be mr. smarty pants, am I right?” For obvious reasons Issac didn’t look offended, he knew this was Napoleons way of agreeing to the expeirment for certain. Napoleon took your hand in his and gave you the look of a fearless hero.

“Well, what are you waiting for? We have to get in position, don’t we?” Issac got the two of you settled on the side of the cliff and explained to Napoleon how to relax himself as much as possible. You waited for the count down.

“Alright then! Three, Two-” Your body began to fall even before you’d let yourself go. Your breath stopped as you watched Napoleon. His eyes were shut and he was the one pulling you over the edge. He had a light smile on his face, so beauitful and vulnerable. Almost as if he could sense your tension without even seeing you he spoke aloud.

“Don’t worry MC, I believe in you. I know that when I open my eyes that I’ll be in for one of the best views and experiences of my life. You won’t let me down.” Your heart was full and you already felt your body light as air and wouldn’t ya know, Napoleon was right by your side in mid air as you swam through the blue/orange skies overhead. His eyes were fluttering open now and his mouth dropped in astonishment. It was more beauitful and amazing then he’d imagined. You’d taken him up high and could only see a small Issac standing at the moutains edge, he was faliling his arms like the mad man he was becoming as he scribbled things down in his note book furiously. You grabbed napoleons other hand and the two of you were still in what seemed like heaven.

“Thank you for believing in me Napoleon. I love you.” You couldn’t tell for sure if it was the sunset hues or a blush which creeped upon his face in that moment. Only that he looked more sweet then he’d ever had before, at the top of the world with you.

#Ikemen Vampire #Napoleon Bonaparte #Isaac Newton

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wonderland-in-bloom · 4 years

Text

suspicions ?!

[savanaclaw boys x big sister of jack!reader]

@edgymcmytrash asked: Oo good luck with all the requests! Is it okay if i request a scenario where a pretty well known savanaclaw girl student turns out to be jack's older sister. (Like how would the others react, would they figure it out cuz she just started hanging out with him a lot?) I kinda want you to feel free to come up with anything you want with the scenario since it could be fun to have a bit of freedom writing, though if you want me to detail it more feel free to say so.

aaa thank you so much!!! i’ve been taking smol breaks here and there lol sorry if i don’t update as frequently as usual guys! and incoming requests in my inbox will be deleted as it does say requests are closed, sorry!!! hope y’alls enjoy this, i might write something with just the bois tomorrow who knows :))

♡

A group of savanaclaw students huddled together, eyeing their junior, jack howl. currently situated in the middle of the savanaclaw magift field, they all exchanged glances with each other, and somehow understood what each other thought about with just their eyes. ruggie noticed this strange little circle. “oi leona-san, check that out.” he pointed out to his senior who was lounging around the bleachers. leona groaned but turned his head anyways. “what a bunch of idiots. what the hell are they doing there?”

curiosity got the best of the savanaclaw dorm leader and he started marching to the group of students huddled up. “oi. what the hell are you losers doing?” he’d expect them or at least one of them to flinch like they normally do, but this time, they just turned to leona and made a shushing motion with their fingers. “what?! how dare you-” one of the students pulled leona and made him join in their little huddle. ruggie was a little curious too so he managed to squeeze himself inside to hear what they were talking about. “what is the meaning of this?! seriously!” one of the students shushed leona. “senpai...have you ever noticed how close (y/n)-chan has become with jack ever since he enrolled here?” now that they mentioned it, leona thought of one scene he saw the other day. it was right after alchemy class and he was about to head to the fields before he saw jack and (y/n) talking to each other before (y/n) gave jack a pat on his head, and his tail wagged non-stop.

“what do you think they’re a thing?” ruggie asked the group of students. “EXACTLY! senpai do you not see it too?” ruggie put a finger on his chin, trying to recall the moments he saw with the two. he had to agree that the two were very close...but he had a bit of trouble remembering jack and (y/n) acting like a couple. “last week, i saw the two go to mostro lounge together!” one student mentioned. “really?! i saw them go somewhere after magift practice together!” another added. “i think (y/n)-chan fell during practice and he helped carry her to the infirmary!” now the students were just whispering among themselves. ruggie held a blank expression. there was no way you were dating jack. meanwhile, leona was slowly starting to get convinced. you didn’t talk to him as much anymore as when jack didn’t enroll into night raven college yet. “maybe you’re right...” leona muttered to himself.

“right about what?” all the students including ruggie screamed when they heard the familiar voice behind them. “(Y/N)-CHAN!!!” good thing they ended the conversation with silence and leona whispering something barely audible. who would’ve guessed, jack was standing beside her, confirming their suspicions once more. “why the hell are you all out here dawdling instead of training for magift?! don’t we wanna beat royal sword academy’s ass?” you snapped your head to face leona. “and you! come on leona, just try to be a better leader.” he rolled his eyes. “alright alright. everyone start with warmups...or whatever.” leona shrugged, causing you to growl and elbow his arm. “come on! be responsible!” he sighed. being responsible was too tiring. “you want to watch your ass beat by some spoiled, prince-y princes?” you threatened him, putting your hand on your hips. “alright fine!” leona’s voice boomed.

“we’ll be starting with warmups that requires partners. so everyone pair up!” the group of students in the huddle, including ruggie, knew what leona was trying to do. he wanted to see who you would choose and if you did choose jack, what their interactions would be like. leona still got the feelings and the vibes that the two of you are dating...or at least becoming closer. but ruggie...had different vibes. of course you paired up with jack and leona paired up with ruggie. this pained him slightly as you used to always pair up with leona. you’d be nicer to him, even compliment and praise him if he did something well. this was why he concluded you were dating jack. either that or he was just jealous you didn’t spoil him with as much attention as you used to. throughout the whole warmup activity, leona was just eyeing the two of you, along with several other students. ruggie tried his best to rationalize this situation.

although you didn’t show him and leona as much attention anymore, he got the feeling that you treated jack the same way you treated leona and himself. based on his knowledge, he knew you didn’t have a crush on him or leona, and you treated other savanaclaw students similarly. ruggie thought that you even gave off older-sibling-type of vibes. maybe that was it. maybe you and jack were related...“alright time for the main event! i got the teams sorted out!” of course leona placed you and jack together. he was still trying to crack this mystery. ruggie was just standing on the sidelines with a whistle to start and end the game, as he was also in charge of keeping track of everyone’s progress. and of course pay attention to you and jack. that’s basically what all the savanaclaw students were thinking at the moment. head empty, no thoughts, just trying to solve the mystery whether you and jack were dating.

the high-pitched whistle pierced the air as the game officially started. three students teamed up to try and aim for you and see what jack would do. when you were on your broom midair, standing on top of it with the disk in your hands, they purposely shot the broom to make you topple over and fall. leona’s eyes widened and zoomed on his broom (even if he was on the opposite team). he knew what those three students did and glared daggers at them while speeding for you. he was curious, but he wouldn’t use means that could’ve hurt you. ruggie dropped all his things and started running to the field. jack also positioned himself to where he thought you would fall so he could’ve caught you in his hands. you closed your eyes, preparing for the impact but instead you felt strong arms catch you. “hmph, who’s not taking it seriously now?”

your eyes fluttered open to see green eyes staring back at you. “leona...” he landed safely on the ground and placed you down. “(y/n)-chan! are you okay?” ruggie waved as he was still running to you. “nee-chan!” all of the savanaclaw students’ paused as their ears twitched. “nee..chan..?” you smiled and patted jack on the head. “don’t worry about me, i’m alright.” jack pouted. “but nee-chan...i don’t want anything happening to you, so of course i worry!” all of the students’ jaw dropped. so you two were siblings. ruggie was taken aback for a while before he started chuckling. so his predictions were right after all. “why are you all looking at me like that?” you asked all the boys in front of you as they looked like they all had just seen a ghost. “YOU TWO ARE SIBLINGS?!” they all (including leona) blurted out at the same time. “yes you idiots! what did you think we were?” you growled. “i don’t know?! dating!?” you facepalmed, and jack was just there like a confused, lost puppy. “how stupid can you all be?! did you all forget my last name?! (y/n) howl!? legit the same thing as jack’s! and besides i’m a wolf too! even our tail and ears have similar colors!” they all were quiet. “jeez you all are such idiots!”

and that day, all the savanaclaw boys (excluding jack and ruggie) came back to their rooms with bumps on their heads and bruises from your...lesson. they also probably had deaf ears after listening to you ramble and scold them about misunderstanding a situation and how you and jack were siblings. all the students from the other dorms stared at all the savanaclaw students like they were crazy. “and i thought you were already ugly. now you’re just uglier with the bandage around your head.” vil commented as leona fiddled with the bandage. “shut up.” he hissed. “serves you right, kingscholar.” you slapped the back of his head, causing him to groan in pain. “okay! okay! i’m sorry! jeez.”

“this is why (y/n) gave me big sister vibes. shishishishishi.”

♡

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #night raven college #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland oneshots #savanaclaw #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar oneshot #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi oneshot #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack howl oneshot #savanaclaw boys #savanaclaw trio

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imjustkindafloating · 3 years

Text

Starry Eyed Boy, Part 5

Summary: Logan and Virgil explore the new planet. (They go to a restaurant, basically. We almost to the good shit, babes)

Pairings: Pre-Romantic Analogical / Eventual Analogical, Established Royality

Word Count: 1,419

Warnings: Weird guy flirting (mentioned), Cursing, lmk if i need to add more.

Notes: You’ve got a big storm coming. ;)

Taglist: @shitpost-sides @gothybubby @rainbowbowtie @hikarisakurariver @singularthoughtofstatic @supersoftsupersleep @gabrieldoesstuff @justthatamount @judyismydog @star-crossed-shipper @high-ashell-hargrove

Knock. Knock.

No, thank you. Virgil thought and rolled over.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Virgil groaned and rolled over to face the ceiling. Wait. Fuck!

Virgil shot out of bed, quickly calling out a loud, “Come in!”. Logan opened the door and leaned against the wall. He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked as he watches Virgil open his luggage bag and sift through the clothes. “The drawers are full of specially made clothes.” Virgil nodded as he held up a t-shirt, then shook his head. Logan smirked and walked towards the drawers. He pulled one open, found suitable clothes, and then handed them to a confused-looking Virgil. Virgil dropped the t-shirt he was holding and took the clothes. A dark purple shirt with small rips in it, a black jacket with purple patches... and.. black jeans. Oh, yeah. The new clothes. He thought as the sluggishness swept away.

“Are you--” He paused to yawn. “Sure I can have these?” He mumbled from behind his hand. It looked like he was trying to hide his whole body behind his arm. Logan had half the mind to stop himself from chucking at the shorter male.

“Yes, Virgil. Emile was very insistent on what you would like to wear, and I knew you wouldn’t want to answer him. So I answered for you. Sorry for the intrusion, I may have looked at the sizes of your clothes.” Virgil blinked, not unlike the cats on earth.

“Oh.”

Logan chuckled and hummed. “I’ll leave you to get dressed, we have a long day ahead of us. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” Then he proceeded to walk out of the lavish room.

-----

Virgil slowly got dressed as he actually took in the room around him. The walls were painted in a soft lavender color, while the trims were a solid black. The bed had a large canopy, in black, although it was see-through. The comforters were thick and soft. Easy to sleep on. He thought. The floor was dark wood, one that he couldn’t identify because it was tinted... purple? At the edge of the bed, there was a crate. On the other half of the room was a large, paper-thin TV. A weirdly shaped sofa and armchair. There were floating balls of light floating around the whole room, almost like fairy lights, if they could levitate. Everything looked a bit more round than back on earth. At the end of the room, opposite the door, was a large window. Virgil fully dressed now, went to the window. Before he did, he smudged eye shadow under his eyes. He pushed the curtain over slightly, just enough for a line of light to seep into the room.

Virgil’s eyes widened when he laid eyes on the city in front of him. Cars, if you could call them that, zoomed through the air. There was short grass everywhere, except for small roads, that Virgil assumed were technically sidewalks. No cars drove there. The roads bustled with people, while trees lined the sidewalks with grass beneath. The buildings looked entirely natural and completely technological all at once.

“That is Arteska, Virgil.” Logan’s voice said behind him. Virgil spun around with his mouth hung open.

“Logan?! Fucking hell, dude... warn a dude next time.” Virgil muttered, his hand on his chest as he hunched over slightly.

“Apologies. You took quite a long time, I began to get worried. I knocked but you didn’t seem to hear me.”

“I- it’s alright,” Virgil whispered as he watched Logan run his eyes up and down his form. With a surge of confidence, Virgil shoved down the voices telling him not to, he said "You know, that's considered rude on earth."

Logan blinked before turning his head, a blueish blush creeping onto his face and pointed ears. "Again, my apologies." He murmured.

"I didn't mind it. It's alright, Lo." Virgil winked, as his face flushed a deep red. He coughed, "Let's go..?"

Logan fought a smile and nodded. "Let's."

-----

Exiting the castle must've taken at least thirty minutes. The winding paths seemed to take forever to get out of. Thankfully, Logan seemed to know where he was going. Along the way, Virgil had drifted closer to Logan, as the hallways bustled with different people. Two people were carrying a large crate down the hall and suddenly, they dropped it, letting red and blue fruit topple out. Virgil jumped at this and grabbed Logan’s arm. He had yet to let go. Logan hadn't told him to let go yet and it seemed to make people stop staring. (Logan was really glaring at the people as to not make them gaze at them.)

After the short excursion to get out of the castle, they reached a huge open door. People walked in and out, chatting and laughing as they passed. Logan started to lead Virgil out the front door while Virgil slowly saw the world emerge before him. Everything was the same but so much clearer. Shops lined the streets and the roads, now clearly a grey brick pattern was bustling with people. Smells filled Virgil’s nose and he smiled. For some reason, it smelt like home.

-----

Logan and Virgil weaved through the streets until Logan decided it was time to eat. He stopped at a place called Patton-Cakes. Right next to the shop seemed to be another restaurant called J's Coffee.

"Y'all have coffee?"

"A sort. It serves the same purpose as coffee, though I doubt it will taste the same as on earth."

"Good, I hate coffee."

"When at your apartment on earth, you drank it every morning..?"

"I needed my bean juice, Lo."

"I'm not even going to attempt to understand what you just said."

They walked inside and a short, chubby man with strawberry blonde hair and freckles littering his face exclaimed, "Logan! I missed you so much!" he said as he shot his way out from behind the counter and launching himself at Logan, dislodging Virgil’s arm away from Logans. Virgil was more than just a little disappointed. Logan felt safe and he liked the security of it. Maybe something else too. He wasn't stupid, he knew what he felt, he just wasn't the kind the make the first move. Logan would have to do that. Until then, Virgil would just let it be known he was interested.

The small man pulled away and started to rock on his heels. "Sooooo... you're Sir Emile’s kiddo? I'm Patton!" He said brightly, as he held open his arms. Virgil slowly moved behind Logan and waved. He mumbled a small "No thank you, please." People were staring and Virgil could feel the pool of panic settle in his stomach. Patton smiled and seemed to understand, which for Virgil was a relief.

"Virgil, could you go find us a seat? You don't have to unless you don't want to. I can go with you if need be." Virgil nodded and said that 'I'm not a kid, Lo.'

He found a seat near the counter, not unlike the booths at waffle house back home. It was secluded more than the other ones and when he looked at Logan for an okay, he got a thumbs up and an awkward smile as Patton grinned knowingly back at Logan and then at Virgil.

Logan eventually came to sit at the table, with blue blush creeping up his face. Virgil felt a pit in his stomach. 'What did Patton say to Logan that made him blush?'

-----

Leaving the restaurant with Logan’s arm around his waist was NOT apart or the plan, if Virgil was being honest.

When a man approached Virgil as he got up to get a refill from Patton, Logan had jumped in and put his arm around Virgil’s waist with a growled, "He's taken." Virgil didn't understand what made Logan say that, and he wasn't honestly complaining. What was more upsetting was the fact that Logan was now in front of him apologizing, bright blue, in his fucking bedroom.

"--gain, I'm incredibly sorry, the man was clearly being flirtatious with you and while you're new to the planet, people know who you are--" Virgil put his pointer finger over Logan’s lips. He was speaking a mile a minute.

"I don't care, L. I have trouble realizing when people are flirting with me at any rate, so thanks." Then he moved his finger away with a smile. Then the windows covered themselves in thick metal, while a loud robotic voice announced “Electrical storm, inbound.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #ts emile picani #thomas sanders #starry eyed boy au

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

Text

David x Patrick, 40k so far, A03 (read from the beginning here)

It starts with a reunion... but what happens after that?

Chapter 13

Monday morning after his run David goes into the office, closes the door, and gets to work. He spends a little bit of time figuring out whether he needs a printer (no), and if there are any office supplies he can order from Amazon and charge to the company (possibly; a larger monitor would be nice, and they aren’t actually that expensive). The desk and chair are functional enough, although they probably weren’t meant to be used for actual nine to five activity, and David is going to feel it in his back before the day is over.

He reluctantly logs on and starts checking emails. There’s a bunch from last week that he needs to deal with, and he messages Rory to see if he can respond to some of them. At ten there’s a meeting with a vendor over Zoom (and yes, he thinks, I am capable of using Zoom, Stevie), and by eleven o’clock, he’s bored.

It’s not that his job is bad, or even difficult. It’s just boring. Although he’s still involved with the type of products he enjoyed selling at the Apothecary, most of the joy has gone out of it. Now bringing in a new product means finding some way to convince the hotel operations staff that they can use it, and there are only so many travel size toiletries that a motel chain can give out without losing money.

When Patrick knocks on his door at noon, he’s more than ready to take a break. They bring their lunches out onto the lanai, Patrick rocking back and forth on the chair as David eats the delicious salad Patrick has prepared.

“I should have known you’d appreciate the grapes,” Patrick says, smiling as David takes another forkful.

“And the goat cheese,” David says, his mouth full. “It’s quite good. This can’t have come from the Publix.”

“No, I went to the farmer’s market in town,” Patrick says. “There’s a guy there with some really nice cheeses. From his own goats.”

David narrows his eyes at Patrick. “Are you being serious?”

“What, you think there can’t be goats in Florida?”

“It just doesn’t seem very on theme.”

“You’d rather they try to make cheese from alligators, or dolphins? I don’t think it would work.”

“Shut up.”

“People used to eat the armadillos, but now they give you the plague, so you won’t find that at the farm stand.”

David stares at Patrick. “Now you’re definitely making things up.”

“Nope.” Patrick grins at him, then takes a long sip of his iced tea. “So, how’s work?”

David opens his mouth to complain about how bored he is, and then shuts it again. He has no right to complain, he’s still involved with RA, he’s still employed. Patrick is neither.

Patrick sees exactly what’s going on. “It’s okay. I can take it. What craziness are the vendors trying to pull today?”

David hesitates, but Patrick’s face is open and he’s genuinely interested. He launches into his tale of woe, the repetitiveness and the limits and the damn corporate frames, and all of a sudden he’s out of breath, sitting back in his chair with his jaw on the floor.

“Sorry. I guess it’s been grating on me for a while. I didn’t mean to spew that all over you.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Patrick shrugs. “I wasn’t able to find anything I liked doing as much as our store. It’s different, I guess, when you’re in charge.”

David smirks. “When who was in charge?”

“Fine – when we were in charge.” Patrick’s face changes, and David can feel it in his chest. “It was ours. Together.”

That’s the rub, isn’t it? Rose Apothecary wasn’t just the ideal place to express his creative side through high-end bath products, it was a labor of love with the love of his life. Together.

*****

“Ugh, David, why won’t you help?”

“Alexis, for the hundredth time, I can’t magically lower your rent. I’m already working for you for a fraction of what my time is worth. If you’re not making enough money and you don’t want to live somewhere our parents already own, get a real job.”

“Every time I run the numbers it looks like it should work out. I don’t know why my projects never make what they say they will.”

“What who says they will?”

“My spreadsheets!”

Like a genie responding to his name, Patrick sticks his head in the door to the office, an Amazon box in his hand. His eyes go wide when he sees Alexis on the screen. “David, um, this came for you, I didn’t know if you’d need it…”

“Oooh, thanks.” David’s pretty sure the package contains the sketch pads and colored pencils he ordered. He was planning on expensing them to the account he’s working on with Alexis, but it sounds like now is not the time to discuss it.

He stands up and goes to Patrick, taking the box from him and putting it on the couch, then reaching out to link his arm through Patrick’s. Patrick is possibly even paler than usual, and seems to have lost the power of speech as he stares at Alexis. She’s staring back at him, her hands frozen in whatever little flingy motions she was making when she caught sight of Patrick.

“So, this is incredibly awkward,” David says, looking between the two of them. “What do we say we just move past it?”

Alexis recovers first, her need to disagree with David overpowering her distress. “David,” she starts, tossing her hair and shaking her head in an effort to get herself on track. “It’s not awkward. We’re fine. Peachy. Right, Patrick?”

David moves them a little closer to his laptop, and guides Patrick to sit down in the chair. “Yeah, um. Hi, Alexis.”

Alexis twists a lock of hair around a finger and leans in close, peering at Patrick through the screen. “I’m sorry you got hurt,” she says, gently sincere.

Patrick’s hand flies up to his head, as if he had forgotten all about his wound. “Is it that noticeable?”

“It’s not, not really.” David slides his arm around Patrick’s shoulders. “I’m sure she can’t even see anything,” he says softly into his ear. “She only knows because I told her about it.”

Patrick looks up at David a little helplessly, and David can’t help leaning in and kissing him, a hand on his cheek, not letting up even as Alexis sighs loudly at them.

“Eat nails, Alexis,” he says, without much venom.

“I’m not mad,” Alexis says. “I get it. You’re each others’ locks.”

Patrick blinks at her, confused. “We can’t both be locks.”

“Whatever, you’re the key that goes in his lock, you know what I mean.”

“That’s quite an assumption,” David says, struggling to keep his face straight.

“Eew, David, shut up.”

“You started it.”

“I don’t care, you still have to help me figure this out!”

Patrick shifts, sitting up a little taller. With a quick glance at David, he enters the fray. “Did I hear you say you were having problems with your budgeting spreadsheets?”

*****

David’s in the living room, waiting for Patrick to finish talking with Alexis and possibly reveal that she needs to declare bankruptcy, when the landline in the kitchen rings. Figuring it might be the hurricane screen guys (who he needs to be nicer to, they could be saving their lives) he scoots off the couch and hustles into the kitchen to pick it up. When he hears the voice on the other end, he really wishes he had let it go to voice mail.

It’s not the hurricane screen guys. It’s Marcy Brewer.

“David? Is that you?”

He imagines hanging up, but that would be unfathomably rude, and this is Patrick’s mom. Who David hasn’t spoken to in over three years. Who probably hates him for leaving Patrick.

“Um, yes, hi, hello.”

“It’s so nice to hear your voice,” Marcy says. Sounds fake, but whatever. “How are you?”

David rocks his head back and wonders how on earth he could have gotten into this situation again – he’s not going to be mistaken for Patrick’s business partner this time around, but do Marcy and Clint know they’re back together? At least Marcy doesn’t seem to be surprised that David is at their house picking up the phone.

“I’m good, thanks. How about you?” he responds, the standard phrases giving him a moment to catch his breath.

“Oh, we’re fine. What have you and Patrick been up to?” Marcy sounds friendly, interested. Not at all like she wishes David was suffering in the deepest levels of hell.

David forces himself to try to respond to her question, and then nearly laughs, given that they haven’t been “up to” anything nearly as raunchy as Marcy probably expects. Best to escape as soon as possible. “Not much – hang on, let me get Patrick.”

“David, wait,” Marcy says, and David does, pressing a hand over his eyes and hoping that this isn’t the scolding he was expecting. Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s really not looking forward to it.

“What is it?”

“I just wanted to say that Clint and I are so pleased that you two boys are giving it another go. Patrick’s never been as happy as he was when you were together.”

David’s throat gets tight. He’d like to think that’s true. Patrick seemed happy, at least most of the time. He had said he was. But then how does he explain the whole Mark thing?

“It probably seems hard, but we have faith in you,” Marcy continues. “We saw what the two of you had. It was something special.”

“It was,” David says, Marcy’s kind words demanding an answer. “You have to know, he made me happy too. Happier than I ever thought I’d be. But I blew it, I screwed it up…” David has no idea why these words are falling out of his mouth, it’s some kind of effect that Brewers have on him, it’s horrible.

“Don’t beat yourself up, dear. Sometimes getting everything you ever wanted can be overwhelming. Patrick wasn’t used to that either, you realize. The important thing is that you’re both trying again, and learning from what happened before. You’ll make it work this time.”

David lets out a long, slow breath. From your mouth to god’s ears, Marcy. “Do you really think so?”

“I do. I have a good feeling about this. I know my boy. It can take him a while to figure out what he wants, but when he does, look out.”

David laughs weakly. “Is that a good thing?”

“Well, do you want to be with him?”

He’s positive that there aren’t words in spoken language to fully express how much he wants to be with Patrick. “Yes.”

“Then it’s good. Because Patrick is sure about you. Let yourself be sure about him. Not everything has to end in disaster.”

David wants to argue with her, to point out how his life is an example of exactly the opposite. But then he remembers a conversation with his therapist where she made him reflect on things that have gone well for him, whether or not they were shaky at some point in the past – his relationship with his parents, his bond with Alexis, his work with RA. His recovery, and the effort he’s put into his mental health.

Maybe his relationship with Patrick can be like that. Shaky in the past, but solid now.

Patrick is sure about you, Marcy put it. Maybe David can be sure, too.

“Thank you,” David says to her, his brain spinning.

“Anytime. Now go get yourself a glass of water, and put Patrick on the phone.”

Patrick chooses this moment to appear, his eyes questioning as David thrusts the phone at him and escapes into the bedroom. But he’s too jittery to just sit on the bed. He goes into the guest room, strips, and tugs on his swim trunks and a long-sleeved swim shirt. He pauses to look in the mirror over the dresser, his eyes looking back at him a bit wild. The thin shirt is white with a black stripe down each sleeve, and he runs his hands over the smooth material. Not exactly haute couture but it’ll do in what is feeling very much like a pinch.

David feels Patrick’s gaze on him as he breezes through the living room and out on to the lanai, not letting himself pause before jumping feet-first into the deep end of the pool. The water is warmer than the air, but still a bit of a shock as it surrounds him. He pops up to breathe, pushing his hair out of his face, and starts swimming.

David had it in his head that he was going to swim laps until he burned out his nervous energy, but he rapidly discovers that the pool isn’t really big enough for that, and also that as fit as he might be, swimming seems to use different muscles than running and breathlessly swimming miniature laps in a tiny pool isn’t that much fun.

He still swims back and forth a few times, then bobs around in the deep end, letting himself sink down with his hands above his head, his fingertips seemingly staying above the water even when his toes touch the bottom. It’s not very deep.

The pool isn’t large but it is pretty, dark blue ceramic tiles running along the waterline, and seat-like ledges set in several places in both the shallow and deep ends, presumably so that the old people doing their water aerobics can rest. Or maybe to sit on while sipping a tropical drink, which is a decidedly appealing thought David files away for later.

He hears steps and spins around to see Patrick, clad in a white t-shirt and Kelly green swim trunks, standing by the edge of the pool.

“Hi there,” Patrick says. His face is wavering between fondly amused and concerned.

“I like the pool,” David says. He reaches out to hold on to the concrete by Patrick’s feet. The angle is kind of funny, looking up at Patrick’s pale legs.

“I can see that.” Patrick fiddles with the hem of his shirt, glancing around and then back at David. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” David tries to make this sound confident. Why wouldn’t he be? Getting worked up over talking to Marcy Brewer for the first time in more than three years and then throwing himself into the deep end of the pool is dramatic, fine, but it’s not completely out of character.

“Want some company?”

David can’t help but smile at this. “Assuming you are referring to yourself, always.”

Patrick goes over to the shallow end, where there are steps leading into the water and a curved handrail. He pauses, and David sees him hesitate before tugging off his t-shirt. David swims over, reaching out to Patrick, catching him by the waist and guiding him into his arms.

They stand in the shallow end together, David carefully running his hands along Patrick’s flanks, wary of the still healing bruises. Patrick relaxes, his shoulders coming down, and he rests his head on David’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” David asks softly, a hand splayed over Patrick’s ribs.

“Good. Really good.” Patrick looks up at David and presses a finger along his eyebrow, catching a stray drop of water. “How are you?”

David shudders as he remembers the call with Marcy, which the sight of Patrick’s bare skin had managed to overshadow for just a moment. He takes a breath and squeezes Patrick’s shoulders, putting on a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Did my mother say something to upset you?”

He shakes his head. “No, absolutely not.”

“Then what is it?”

“You told your parents.”

Patrick tilts his head. “Yes…?”

“About us. Being back together.”. The phrase still doesn’t sit right with him, it seems too trivial for what is going on between them, but it gets the point across.

“Yeah, I did. Was that not okay?”

“No, of course it’s okay, it just…”

“It surprised you.” Patrick gives him a rueful glance. “Because I didn’t tell them, before, back in Schitt’s Creek.”

“I just wasn’t sure,” David says, “when I picked up the phone and it was your mother, whether she knew? And then it turned out that she did know, and she said – all these unbearably sweet things.”

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t have much of a filter.”

“No, it’s okay, like I said, she was really nice.”

“It was just a lot?” Patrick suggests.

“It was a lot. And from your mother.”

Patrick laughs. “She’s just excited.” He backs them a little deeper into the pool, the water now up to their shoulders.

“But why?” David says, a panicked whine creeping into his voice. “After what I did, why would she think this is a good idea?”

Patrick puts his hands firmly around David’s waist and finds his eyes. “After we broke up, I told my parents everything. Everything.. It’s kind of embarrassing, looking back on it, but I did. They were getting ready for a wedding too, remember? They didn’t understand what went wrong, so I told them about Mark, and how you knew something was off. They don’t blame you for what happened, any more than they blame me.”

David feels his chest clench. “Are you ever going to tell me what really was going on? Why you were flirting with him?” He doesn’t mean to sound accusatory, but there’s a part of him that needs to know why. Was it something he did? Is there something he needs to do better? And if Patrick can’t come up with a reason, how do they make sure it doesn’t happen again?

Patrick steps back from David, one hand trailing down David’s arm to take his hand, putting a little distance between them but still hanging on. “I think I was just scared of getting something I thought I’d never have.”

“But you were going to marry Rachel. You had the chance before, you knew you could have it.”

“I could have been married to Rachel, but it wouldn’t have been right. When I was with her, there was always something missing. That’s what I thought I’d never have, even when I couldn’t put my finger on it. Turns out, what was missing was you.”

Patrick pulls David in, brushing a kiss over his lips. He tastes like tea, and pool water, and the soft warm heat of his skin. David melts against him, his hips swaying to bring them close. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know how to handle it,” Patrick says quietly. “It was scary because you made it right, David. After all that wasted time, you made it right.”

When they part, David feels giddy. It’s time to commit, he can feel it. He can feel how easy it is to love this person, who doesn’t hesitate to share his feelings with David, who isn’t scared off by how strongly David feels, by him spiraling literally into the deep end. He knows that loving someone is a risk, but Patrick is all in, and David wants to be there too.

“I’m sure about you, Patrick,” he says. Patrick’s eyes widen, fixed on his own, and David nods, feeling the truth of it all through his body. “I’m sure about you, too.”

Patrick surges forward in the water and climbs into his arms, his legs coming up and around David too, almost overbalancing them as David splashes to keep them upright. As he steadies he wraps his arms around Patrick and kisses him fiercely. Getting what you’ve always wanted may be overwhelming, but it’s damn good just the same.

#David x Patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Schitt's Creek fic #SC fic #Schitt's Creek #Reunion fic #Literally spiraling into the deep end

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emachinescat · 3 years

Text

The Rich Girl Next Girl (Just Tried to Kill Me)

A Psych Fan-Fiction

By @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 7 - poisoning

Summary: Shawn will never complain about being ‘barely poisoned’ again after he’s ‘fully poisoned’ by a woman he’s investigating - via her poisoned lipstick and an non-consensual kiss.

Characters | Pairings: Shawn, Juliet, Henry, Gus, Lassie | Shawn/Juliet

Words: 3,199

TW: non-consensual kiss

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging! :)

It was the beautiful ones you had to watch out for.

She was tall and dark haired, with green eyes that twinkled like twin emeralds, and high cheekbones and plump lips colored with the most devastating red Shawn Spencer had ever laid eyes on. She had squeezed into a tiny black dress with an open back and plunging neckline, with legs that seemed like they would go on forever. She wore closed-toe, diamond-studded, four-inch heels that perfectly matched the color of her lips.

Somehow Shawn had managed to charm her into asking him to be her date to a charity gala at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art, and he was very well aware of the many eyes on him as he moved through the crowd with her on his arm.

Well. It would be more accurate to say that he was on her arm, because she was most definitely in charge, had been from the moment she’d picked him up her limo and she’d already had another, better tux waiting and pressed for him - and had refused to let him in the car until he’d made the switch.

She wasn’t only a total knockout, though - she was also a local celebrity, a socialite, born into enormous wealth but not the heir to the bulk of her late parents’ fortune. That honor went to her older sister, who had, just a week ago, gotten into a terrible accident on her yacht. Part of her had been recovered on the deck after the explosion. The Coast Guard were still looking for the other part in the ocean. They weren’t optimistic.

So now Aria Thorton, the twenty-seven-year-old millionaire goddess, was Shawn’s date to a high-end charity event, and they were the center of attention.

Shawn should have been in heaven.

There were three things that dampened the occasion, though - for one, she thought he was a billionaire from two counties over named Chaz Hemsworth (no relation to Chris or Liam, but his rugged good looks and fabulous hair had made many people think he was).

Then there was the fact that she was the SPBD’s number one suspect in her sister’s supposed-accident-but-Shawn-had-revealed-that-it-was-murder-yet-again case. Hence, why she thought he was Chaz - he was undercover with the help of the police department, much to the chagrin of Lassie and Jules, because he was the best person for the job. (Well, he had barged into the case and presented himself as Chaz Hemsworth, and she had been interested, and now he was the best chance they had since he was already on the inside and it was a time-sensitive case - just like he’d planned it).

Oh, and the third thing was definitely the worst of them all: His actual girlfriend, the aforementioned Jules, was here too, acting as Lassiter’s date and ready to provide backup. And she was pissed.

Shawn forced himself to focus on the case, though. Technically, he’d already solved it, put all the final puzzle pieces together, just half an hour before the gala. But by that time, she was already at the luxury hotel the SBPD had reluctantly put him in as part of his cover (“Any snacks or room service ordered will be paid for by you, Mr. Spencer, not this department,” Chief Vick had warned with that iconic raised eyebrow of hers. And no, she wasn’t going to sink funds into a ticket for Mr. Guster - Shawn had thrown himself into this investigation alone, so Gus would just have to sit this one out. Needless to say, Gus had not been pleased.).

Now, there were just a few more loose ends to tie, a few more t’s to cross and i’s to dot and little squiggly fancy things to add to capital S’s - namely, he needed to do the reveal. And since Lassie and Jules would be at the gala anyway, it would be the perfect time to do the reveal (and he’d get to live it up as a male socialite for a few more hours).

He waited until he’d tested all the hors dourves (Why the hell had no one told him caviar was fish eggs and not really fancy boba, and that it did not taste good in even the fanciest of cocktails?), but as soon as the moment was perfect, he called everyone’s attention to him by accidentally-on-purpose smashing his cocktail glass with a knife a la the Princess Diaries, jumped onto the nearest table, and presented his case.

As he revealed the truth of the tragic death of Selena Thornton, and how her sister had taken freaking Skill Share lessons on yacht safety procedures so that she could backwards engineer them to arrange an accident for her sister and swoop up her portion of the inheritance, he noticed something odd - Aria didn’t try to get up, she didn’t argue or yell something like, “That’s ridiculous!” or “You have no proof!” or even “I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for you muddling, hunky psychic!” Instead, she opened her shimmering handbag, calmly applied some sort of thick balm to her lips. Then she pulled out her lipstick and reapplied it. Maybe if Shawn hadn’t been so focused on his wrap-up, he would have noticed that the lipstick was the same shade, but that it came from a different tube than when she’d reapplied earlier. Later, in his hospital bed, he would kick himself for missing that tiny, crucial detail.

He finished by announcing, “And remember, folks - this murder reveal was brought to you by Skill Share.”

And then he was getting off the table, and Jules was preparing the cuffs while Lassie held Aria, and the rest of the rich guests were sitting in stunned silence or otherwise whispering among themselves, already spreading the gossip for the next Tabloid, he was sure. Then, out of nowhere, the formerly docile homicidal heiress lashed out, slamming the pointed heel of her left shoe - it looked like the heel had been shoved into a pencil sharpener - into the top of Lassie’s foot, buried the elbow of her perfectly tanned right arm into Juliet’s stomach, and broke away from the detectives.

Shawn thought she would turn tail and run, try to escape, but to his shock (and confusion), she lunged straight for him, zooming forward in those ridiculous heels with a speed and grace Shawn couldn’t even achieve with sneakers. He braced himself for an attack, got ready to defend himself, even as Lassie and Jules recovered and dove for the sabotaging socialite.

They were too late.

What happened next was the literal opposite of what Shawn had anticipated. She crushed her body into his, grabbed his face the way they do in every rom com ever, and pressed her lips against his in a kind of tender but still somehow aggressive kiss.

For a moment, he stood in shock, trying to process what the hell was happening. Was she glad he’d caught her? Did she look forward to being stripped of her wealth and going to prison for life?

Then he realized that as pleasant as her soft lips were against his, he had not authorized this transaction, and even though she was a rich, drop-dead gorgeous socialite, she was also a sister-killer, and his girlfriend whom he loved very much was watching, and he pulled back. She held on, forcing her lips on his even as he tried to squirm away from her touch. Her expertly manicured fingernails dug into his skin, and left scratches on the side of his neck when Lassie and Jules dragged her off of him.

Shawn stumbled back, neck stinging where she’d scratched him, lips tingling where she’d kissed him. He could taste her lipstick - it didn’t taste like cherries like he’d thought. It didn’t taste good at all. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and spun on Aria Thorton, who was now being wrestled into cuffs and passed off to waiting police officers. “Hey, I know I’m irresistible,” he said, trying to fight off his growing discomfort at the kiss - any other time, he’d probably be thrilled to have a beautiful woman throw herself at him and surprise him with an attack-kiss, “but I’ve got a girlfriend. And she’s way more hot and bad-ass than a homi-sister like you.”

Jules turned to him and there was a little smile on her face that told him maybe he wasn't as deep in the doghouse as he'd thought. “Homi-sister?”

“Yeah,” said Shawn, rubbing absently at his chest. He needed to change out of this tux. It was too hot, and it was too tight. “Sister-murderer. Like homicide, but for sisters.”

“Sororicide,” Lassiter corrected.

“I’m sorry, Lassie, when did you take on the role of Scooby Doo? I can only keep up with one fictional dog at a time, man.” Beads of sweat popped up on his forehead. A muscle twitched in his upper arm.

“It’s the actual term for killing one’s sister,” Lassie sneered derisively.

Shawn opened his mouth to retort, but he coughed instead. And suddenly he couldn't stop coughing, and his chest was being squeezed, and the muscle in his arm jumped again, this time painfully, and he promptly deposited a disgusting mixture of fourteen varieties of hors dourves on Lassiter’s shoes. A strong hand grabbed his upper arm and kept him semi-upright even as Lassiter groaned, “These are $400 loafers, and they’re rentals!”

“Shawn!” Juliet’s face had gone white, Shawn noticed through tears and haze as she surged forward and gently lifted his chin with her delicate hand.

He struggled to answer her, but his chest was so tight, and his left calf muscle contracted then, and all that came out was a strangled cry of pain.

“Call an ambulance - now!” Lassiter’s voice was far away, though Shawn could have sworn that the head detective was standing right by his side, keeping him from face-planting in his own caviar and cocktail sludge.

Vaguely, over the sound of screams and murmurs and cries of alarm, he heard Juliet’s voice, scarier than he’d ever heard it before - he’d never been so convinced she was about to murder someone before - growl, “What did you do to him?”

He never got the chance to hear if Aria Thornton gave up her dark little secret. His eyes rolled up into his head, and, muscles twitching and lungs scrambling for air, he passed out.

***

He woke up to pain.

It was a slow process, getting his eyelids to cooperate, but he could feel a soft hand in his, and he would know it anywhere, and someone was crying.

When his vision had cleared enough for him to make out more than just blobs of color, he saw Juliet sitting slumped in a hard plastic chair by his bedside. Sure enough, it was her hand in his. But she was fast asleep, her neck crooked back at an awkward angle and small, adorable snores wafting out of her slightly parted lips. So it wasn’t her who was crying.

His gaze dragged languidly to the right, and everything made sense. Gus was in the chair next to her, quietly sobbing into his hands. Poor bastard.

Shawn spoke, his voice raw and trembling and the effort seemed to squeeze every bit of air out of his already starved lungs. “G-Gus?”

Gus’s head snapped up, he leaped out of his chair, and in a loud voice reminiscent to an all-black hallelujah choir, he exclaimed, “Shawn!”

Juliet startled awake, her hand instinctively squeezing his, and he saw the worry in her stormy blue eyes as soon as they landed on him. She smoothed his sweaty hair from his forehead. “Thank God you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Shawn didn’t answer immediately, but let his eyes wander around the room, confirming what he already knew. He was in a hospital - a private room - and there was a heart monitor beeping above him and an IV lead ran from his hand to a pole, where two different bags were feeding his veins with who knew what. He took a moment to remember what had happened and shuddered internally when he thought of the kiss of death.

It took everything he had in him to speak again, but he had to know where he stood, “S-so, more than b-barely poisoned this time?”

Juliet laughed, a short, manic sound of mingled relief and exasperation. “Yeah, a lot more than barely,” she agreed.

Shawn didn’t get to enjoy his moment of validation, because his left pectoral muscle spasmed, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending bolts of agony through his chest. It was like the muscle was twisting itself into the most complex pretzel known to man. An agonized guuuh burst from his mouth and he grasped at his chest, as if trying to tear the pain away.

Gus was panicking now, tears still streaming down his face, and Jules looked stricken. Shawn was certain he was actively dying now and tried to call for help. The door to his room burst open and distantly, beneath the mound of pain that had erupted in his muscle, he heard his father’s voice.

“Jules - it looks like it’s his chest. Massage it. Remember, small, gentle circles. Gus, pull it together, you’re just making him panic.” And then he could feel Jules gently massaging the screaming muscle, and Gus hiccuped into relative silence, and his father was there, seated in a chair on the other side of the bed. He grabbed Shawn’s hand - the one with the IV - and for a wild moment, Shawn was convinced his father was going to rip it out like he had the last time his son had been poisoned.

But instead, he held on firmly to Shawn’s hand and said, “Squeeze as hard as you need to, pal. Ride it out. It’ll be over soon.”

The heart monitor was screeching now, and a nurse ran in just as the spasm was beginning to ebb, leaving the entire muscle feeling weak and squishy like play-doh. She injected something into one of Shawn’s IV bags and checked his temperature and fed him ice chips and told him to try to rest and be patient, that it wouldn’t be long until the spasms would stop. She might have told him her name at some point, but he didn’t hear.

Whatever she’d given him made him sleepy, and he felt his twitching, tense muscles relax the tiniest of fractions, and the last thing he saw before falling asleep was his father’s face leaning over him. He must have been hallucinating, because he could have sworn that his father’s eyes were red and puffy and that there were tear-tracks down his face.

***

The next time Shawn woke up, he was still sore, and his muscles still gave the occasional, defiant twitch, but he wasn’t in blood-curdling agony anymore, so it was a definite improvement. This time when he woke, no one was crying, and his dad had washed his face, but his eyes were still rimmed with red.

“What happened to me?” Shawn asked, his voice weaker than he could ever remember. “What the hell was in that lipstick?”

His dad chuckled humorlessly, not because anything was funny but because it wasn’t crying. “You figured out it was the lipstick, then?”

“I’m psychic, dad, remember?” Shawn had put the pieces together the first time he’d woken up, but he’d been too out of it to realize he’d made the connection.

Henry didn’t dignify that with a response.

“I can’t believe you went to a millionaire’s gala and almost died, Shawn!” Gus chided irritably. “If I had been there -”

“You would have hyperventilated and passed out on your plate of hor dourves,” Henry finished dryly, and Shawn couldn’t help but grin.

Juliet was the one who brought the conversation back around to his question. “She refused to talk, so we took her purse and had her fingernail polish, lip balm, and lipstick tested for toxins,” she informed him. “We thought that she might have done it when she scratched you, but it was the lipstick that was poisoned. The lip balm was actually a protective buffer between her lips and the lipstick so that the poison wouldn’t reach her skin.” With a heavy sigh, Juliet revealed, “It was VX poison.”

“What’s that?” Shawn asked. “It sounds like something from a spy thriller.”

“It’s a nerve agent,” Gus supplied. “It can be made into gas, but it’s base form is about the consistency of gasoline. It’s super fast-acting, especially when inhaled or ingested, even in small amounts like with you, and it causes muscle spasms, respiratory issues, nausea, headaches, fever, and a whole lot of other nasty symptoms.”

“But there’s a cure?”

“Atropine and pralidoxime,” Gus answered promptly, and Shawn resisted the very strong urge to tell his best friend to, for the love of every 80s movie they’d ever loved, get a hobby. “Both were administered the second the results came back. It was a close call, but thankfully they were administered on time - though it was touch and go for a bit. The nurse gave you another dose of a muscle relaxer the first time you woke up. The other drip is saline.”

“I guess the real question is how the psychotic rich girl next door got ahold of poison like that in the first place,” Shawn muttered, head swimming and eyes burning and body feeling like it had been run over by a monster truck.

Juliet answered promptly: “Lassiter was finally able to crack her. Turns out she’s also got some contacts in the black market. She had that tube of lipstick custom-made and infused with VX two years ago in case any of her many boyfriends cheated on her. Surprisingly, she hadn’t used it until you came along, but when you exposed the truth, it was her way of getting revenge. She knew there was no way she was going to be able to escape, so she decided to take you down with her.”

“Damn,” said Shawn, faintly. He was drifting off again, but he was so happy to be alive, to see his friends - even his dad, imagine that!

“Go back to sleep, Shawn,” Henry ordered. “It’s going to take a while for you to heal, and you’ll need all the rest you can get.”

Not knowing what had come over him, blaming the poison and trauma for the words that spilled unbidden from his lips, he found himself asking, “And you guys will be here? Next time I wake up?”

Gus grinned and leaned over to give Shawn a one-sided fist bump, and Juliet kissed him delicately on the forehead. His dad ruffled his hair in a manner that could almost be construed as affectionate if he wasn’t careful.

“You bet your ass we will.”

Overall, Shawn reflected as he allowed sleep to claim him, being fully poisoned fully sucked, but it was kind of nice getting a glimpse of just how much his friends and family cared.

They could find other opportunities to show their love in the future though. Shawn had had enough of poison, barely, fully, or otherwise, for a lifetime.

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