#cough I know it’s kinda cliche but uh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

voicefromunderthecovers · 2 years

Text

Total Drama: The Creeps Cut Episode 1 | Not So Happy Campers

Chapter 0: Audition Tapes

Ezekiel

In a dusty, cluttered, cramped space with a mess meeting you at every corner, sat on top of an old, barely functional TV is the field of vision of a low budget, partially grainy camera. A greasy, pimpled hick with an awkward air about him scratches the back of his pencil neck insecurely before flashing a small closed smile.

“Yo, name’s Ezekiel, or like, Zeke, y’know? As you can probably tell, I’m kinda new to this whole celebrity thing, eh.” His smile fades and he looks around nervously. A few coughs can be heard in the background as he rubs his arm. “Anyway, Pa used to be the breadwinner but now he can’t work as hard no more. I’m gonna get on this show and bring home the bacon instead, I mean, without me, there’s no way I’m gonna be able to support ma. I’m ramblin, I know, y’know? Er, you know what to do.” His dopey grin ends off the video.

Two men, one tall and built and the other small but well put together are sitting and watching the following tapes. They glance at each other and shrug. “So.. what do you think?” Chef Hatchet, the larger man asks.

“I’d say the kid’ll be at least partially fun to make fun of. But people also love a good rags to riches story. I’m game! Next?” The smaller one, Chris Mclean, beckons an intern to supply him with the next tape.

Eva

The first shot of the video is of a black haired, butch type woman doing pulls up at a close-up angle in a public gym. A few prettier, pinker girls walk behind her and mutter something as she finishes up her routine, grunting out the number of reps she’s done.

“57.. 58.. 59.. 60!”

She then hops down on her feet, solidly standing tall. She nearly lets her eyes linger towards the sound of the teenage girls in the background she can so obviously hear, but refocuses on the camera, tightens her fists and talks to the hosts.

“You see that? I’m the only girl in my school who can do more than ten pull ups. So whatever you can throw at me, I can handle it.” She points at herself confidently, head held high and eyes closed. The girls in the background find a red dodgeball and aim it. “Bring it-” BOINK!

It collides with her temple, knocking her off balance. “HEY! You’re dead, you hear me?!” She barks as their fits of giggling turn to panicked gasps and screams. The footage cuts just as the girl rushes at the posse harassing her. It returns to an image of the angry teenage girl with blood on her fists, now outside of the gym on the sidewalk.

“My name is Eva Chantrey. If you want a fierce, no holds barred competitor who is also a huge team player.. You’ll pick me.” She points a thumb in her chest. “Hey, you can edit this, right? Good.”

Chris and Chef recover from chuckling as the footage cuts. “Man, talk about psycho!” Chris belts out.

“I like her.” Chef muses.

“Of course you do. She’s in! Who’s next?”

Noah Sitting at a desk in the middle of a quiet library is a young man with a medium-dark skin tone. Despite the camera being focused on his face he isn’t at all interested in it until he turns to the next page of the book he is currently trapped in. “Yo,” finally looking up from his book to reveal his bored frown gives the first glimpse of realization to the camera. “Look, you’re probably going to get a dozen audition tapes from ‘musically’ talented teens or dependent dorks who claim to be ‘intellectual prodigies’ so I’ll save you the time… Like you should save yourself from reading this cliche ridden novel.” Taking the book from its face down position, Noah flaunts it to the camera with an annoyed expression plastered to his face. “The cover lures you in with a depiction of an epic story. Heroes, dragons, castles… What do I see? A thousand and one cliches on how NOT to write a fantasy novel. I haven’t watched any of the audition tapes on your website, which is so 2010 might I add, yet I can already guess that ninety-nine percent of your auditions are from rich kids or dumb jocks far too in over their own heads. With Noah? Nuh-uh. I’m the real deal, an actual schemer not some wannabe used car salesman. Put me on your show and it’ll be a domino effect of backstabs with me always staying a step or two ahead. In the school chess team? Grand master. Yeah, you can see what I’m getting at.” Noah pushes the book he was reading off to the side before looking at the camera one more time with a confident smile. “See you on the show, big name Hollywood executives.” “Heheh, he’s right about the numerous trust fund kids we’ve gotten so far ain’t he Chris?” Noah seemed like just the type of kid that could use some of Chef’s… Bootcamp. A snobby little poindexter like that? Chef would accept him on grounds of breaking him alone! “I think the irony of his tape is what gets me the most. Going into intense detail about all the scheming little yuppie kids he hates without the self awareness is HILARIOUS! Reminds me of how much you hate that hotshot chef on that one cooking show. What was it called? Cooking Up Drama? That guy is a total Hollywood sleaze!” Chef raised an eyebrow to Chris. That sleazy chef reminded him more of Chris than himself. “But hey, I feel an odd connection to the kid. Consider him in the show! Who do we have next, Chef?” “Some girl who claims to be able to talk to ghosts or something! Oh, and another set of those damn BlixBloxxers!” “Kids, aren’t they the greatest?” Chris’ rhetorical question was only answered by a devilish grin towards the camera.

Justin

The camera pans to show one of the most handsome men in the world with a frown on his face. He’s crouched up on a rock, hair wet (it looks sexy even when wet) and all hope lost. What tragedy could’ve befell this gorgeous man?! “I’m Justin… And once I got lost at sea. Then… I remembered pretty men don’t need to read maps, they just need Dude Time for Men .” Justin sprays himself with the cologne, this parts away the clouds and sends the bad weather long off into the distance. In its place comes a herd of women, all of them eager to rip Justin’s shirt off to reveal his perfectly chiseled torso. “ Dude Time for Men is not responsible for any side effects that may occur such as constant attraction of females, an enhanced sense of confidence, a flock of women tearing your clothes off, or erectile dysfunction. If you experience testicle shrinkage please consult your doctor immediately and stop usage.” One of those commercial voices ended off the advert, Chef raised an eyebrow while Chris clapped his hands together. “Classic Dude Time for Men , I did a commercial for them a year or two back. My agent told me I should probably demand they never show my clip again though after that huge lawsuit they got in for those nasty side effects.” “Plus that smells nasty! Ain’t no real woman gonna want to smell some Dude Bro whatever the hell it is.” To Chef’s cynicism, Chris shook his head. “Just because you’re jealous of a product doesn’t mean you have to shame those of us who found success because of it, Chef.” “Man, didn’t you just get divorced a year ago?! Face it, Dude Time don’t work… But that kid's a looker, though, reminds me of my first– gig. I worked at a modelin’ place, pretty boys like that all over the damn place.” “So you’re saying you want him in? Meh, okay. He’ll get us ratings, he’s already a totally hot model. Just look at his gram! That’s a lot of followers bro.”

Katie and Sadie

A nauseatingly pink polka dotted room filled with childish plush toys and a big speaker is the backdrop of this next one. Two teenage girls, one chubby and white and the other brown and slim (both wearing the exact same outfit) are holding each other's hands while Glamorous by Fergie plays in the background.

“Oh my gosh, I cannot believe we’re doing this!” The larger one exclaims. “So cannot believe we’re doing this!” Her friend replies.

“Okay, um.. Hi!” A fit of giggles erupt from them both. “Oh, I can’t lead, Katie you have to!”

“Okay, okay.. I’m Katie, and this is Sadie. We both want to apply for Total Drama because I mean,”

“Just look at us! We’re cute and we both have our own Blickblock account, KatiexSadie=, AND-”

“And we’re sooo close! We’re inseparable, which is like, so rare for small town girls like us.” They hug each other, nuzzling one another’s cheeks.

“So, so rare! Ooh, Katie, let’s show them our dancing!”

“Oh, uh-” Katie’s grip on her friend loosens and she backs away.

Sadie turns up the volume incredibly loud, swinging her body to and fro wildly, flabby skin smacking against her body while she seductively glances at the camera. Katie blushes and gives a nervous smile.

“Ahaha.. Woohoo.. Go Sadie.” Her words are too quiet though.

“What?!” The camera falls from the vibrations of the music right onto the carpeted floor.

Katie picks it up and is joined by Sadie as they both shout, “Put us on!~” the clip cuts out.

Chris and Chef simply blink, then look at each other. “Blickblockers on my show? Chef, look up KatiexSadie+ultra whatever now!”

Chef glares. “I ain’t your personal assistant, fool.”

“Just do it, ya big baby.” He slaps him on his toned shoulder.

“Ugh,” Chef gets on the computer and looks up their username. “One hundred thous- well I’ll be..”

“One hundred WHAT NOW? What do their fans say?”

“Oh, they posted the audition. Let’s see..” Chef applies his reading glasses, scanning the comments. “‘Katie is so cute. Go Katie!’, by Pepefan24. ‘Katie needs an Onlyfans, sweat drop emoji.’ by Crimson Candy. ‘I want a Katie solo account (i love you Sadie too ooh woo.)’, by tearjerker.tdi.”

“Katie is the star, but they’re both annoying. Why not include ‘em both, for.. Brand recognition?”

“Mm, good idea.” Chef nods. “Next up: Tyler.”

Tyler

The video starts without a star in front of the camera, this quickly changes as we hear a boy curse as he sprints over to the front of it, just barely avoiding tripping over his own feet. “W-Woah! Sorry about that, I’m Tyler! A totally serious athlete who everyone says should be in the Olympics… Or was it the Paralympics? To tell you the truth I don’t really know the difference. Either way, check out this highlight reel from my time here at Bullworth Academy!” The camera fades from Tyler to a clip of him giving a thumbs up to the camera as he jumps up to catch a football thrown to him. In a horrible miscalculation the ball actually comes down and smacks Tyler square in the face! Another clip flashes by, this time Tyler gives another enthusiastic thumbs up as he goes to block a hockey puck via glove save. Yet another terrible stroke of luck causes the puck to go right past his hand and smack him dead in the face again! The final clip shows Tyler in a stairwell at what looks to be a hospital. His head is all bandaged up and he’s missing a tooth, even still he gives a thumbs up and hops on his skateboard. He jumps on it and tries to ride down the rail, this results in him being launched off the board and flying into a hamper of towels! Despite the stunt being a failure, he smiles at the camera just happy to not have taken another shot to the head. However this proves to be his undoing as the board comes back down right on top of his head, knocking him out one final time. “Yeouch! That had to hurt!” Chris chuckled as he rewinded the tape to play some of the brutal injuries over again. “Is that one of them Jack’s Ass boys?” Chef couldn’t lie, watching Tyler get hit over and over with various sporting goods was pretty entertaining. “Oh MAN look at that hit right there! Duuuuude!” It had been six rewinds before the two hosts finally stopped laughing, it was pretty obvious Tyler was in. “He’s absolutely terrible at sports but imagine the ratings we’ll get on him!” Chris explained.

Izzy

A black and white filter overlays the camera feed. A dark room, or as dark as you can piece together through the filter, is lit up by candles, emitting enough visual aid to showcase framed pictures of a blonde haired, fit surfer dude with a chiseled jawline and casual looks on his face. Several of these pictures show him smiling on the sidewalk, laughing inside of a restaurant, eating a messy sandwich, clocking in at the production studio for Fresh TV.. wearing a nametag that says the name Graham.

Suddenly, the camera spins backwards to reveal a filterless girl grinning ear to ear at the camera, orange, unkempt neck length hair and orange lipstick on her. “Boo! HAHAHAHA! Gotcha, Graham-Graham! Surprised to see me?” She appears to be wearing a lab coat with goggles on her forehead. “Yeaaah, I had no idea you were working at Fresh TV now, I’m so jealous! That means you’re kinda sorta barely famous, Graham! Isn’t that wild?? Remember when you used to talk about owning a mansion and three dogs named Skip with me? Or settling down at a nice graveyard with both of our gravestones next to each other?? Oh man, great times! You were an awesome boyfriend. In case you don’t see this, or remember, hey! I’m Izzy, and I’d be really good for the show Total Drama whutz it becauseeee I am multifaceted and very attentive! I swear I’ll leave your viewers laughing and my fellow castmates entertained! As for you, Graham?”

She finally takes a breath of air to jab a finger into the camera, zooming in on her green eyeball. “I missed you, baby~! Wait for me!”

Static fills up the last four seconds.

“..Batshit crazy, man.”

“Right on, brother. As if this show needs more insanity.” Chris grins, writing down her name anyways.

“Do.. Do we even know a Graham?”

“I think he’s a production assistant? I dunno, all of the lackey’s look the same.”

“True that. Soo..?”

“She’s in. I like her breed of insanity: dangerous, but quirky. Lesbians around the world will relate to her immensely.”

“I get the feeling she’s the type to enjoy my camp food.”

“No offense, bro, but I wouldn’t feed your cooking to a starving raccoon. I’d pay to see it.” His grin only becomes more cocky.

Chef growls, then stands up and yells. “Shut up! Next!” He sits back down cross armed for the next tape.

Cody

“Oh hey there, didn’t see ya. I’m Cody Emmet Jameson Anderson, the Codemeister is what all my friends online know me as.” This audition tape took place in the RGB colored room of who could only be identified as a tech-fetishist. Computers, consoles retro and new, even what seemed to be a fridge with a screen on it. “You may be caught up in all my cool gadgets, don’t let that fool ya! I’m like Batman, cool gadgets and machines at night… Playboy also at night. I’m missing the rich part, which is one reason why I want to be on Total Drama!” Was I interesting enough? Oh crap Cody think, think! “L-Look! I’ve got music too!” Cody fiddled around with his keyboard, finally finding the space bar as his beats started playing from his speakers. “I-I can actually play that! I was just editing it, oh! This is the good part!” Cody threw up the rock and roll symbol with his left hand as he jammed out to his solo, smiling up at the camera. “A man of many skills as you can see. Games, music, ladies… Did I mention my YouTube channel? Ohhhh it’s not too big or anything, just SEVEN HUNDRED subs. Heh, see this is my latest video, I talked about some chicks from Blickblock.” Cody’s channel was pulled up on his phone, the latest video sure enough was about Katie and Sadie. “Small world.” Chris remarked. Y’know, there was a total audience for guys like Cody! “Girls won’t be able to get enough of him and he’s just dorky enough for guys to find a liking to as well. I mean making fun of Blickblockers on the internet? He’ll have his own unique fanbase.” “Either that or he’ll stir up enough drama tryna be a cool guy. Hehe, what’s your decision Chris?” “Seen worse… Why not? If worse comes to worst, he does have seven hundred subscribers. That’s at LEAST fifty viewers.”

Beth

“Hey there! I’m Beff!” Spitting all over the camera was a gal with braces, glasses, and a lisp. “I’m here with my best friend in the whole wide world, Bertha! Say hi Bertha!” In her arms is a squealing pig, it doesn’t at all look happy to be held by the four-eyed teen. “W-Woah, don’t wiggle so much! I’ll-!” As the pig desperately wiggled out of Beth’s grasp, the momentum of a pig almost half her size caused her to land forward onto her face right into some mud! Beth defeatedly pulled herself up to her knees again, face covered in mud and tearfully clenched her fist.”I-I get it, I look like another pathetic nerd girl who can’t do anything right… Mark my words, if I get into your show? That’s all going to change! You’ll see, everyone from school will see, and doormat Beth will be NO more!” “Nerd rage, eh? What do you think, Chef?” Chris was a bit on the fence about Beth. She was another nerdy looking competitor, they already had a lot of those… “That girl got a look in her eye that none of those other kids had. A scary one.” A bullied student out for revenge? That’s one reason he became the way he did! Chef was a sensitive soul underneath all the war paint, military training, and awful culinary skills. “Revenge in a lawsuit kind of way or a ratings kind of way?” Chris questioned his co-host. “I doubt that girl could actually cause harm to anyone, prolly just a ratings thing. Probably .” “Alrighty then, Beth? You’re in!”

Courtney

In the center of a courtyard, a Latina-Asian girl with short chestnut hair and freckles is sitting in front of a camera, a table separating her from the camera man across from her. On the table are pamphlets that read, “Courtney for Student Council President”. Several students walk past her, scoffing or outright rolling their eyes at her from behind, all while she emphatically chants:

“Vote for Courtney! A vote for me is a vote for a well organized, better serviced and happier classroom. Vote for Courtney!” She glances at the camera before focusing her attention on it entirely.

“Oh, hello there! As you can see, I’m running for Student Council President. If I’m elected, I swear to make this school a better place. So, why do I, Courtney Barlow, wish to enter a drama reality TV show when it’s so obviously below me? Well, discounting the prize money, I think it’s best for any great leader to surround herself with commoners before she becomes a responsible ruler for the people. Essentially - I want to know what people are like outside of the bubble that is high school.”

“Hey, can we hurry this up? I gotta head to gym class.”

“In a minute, Tom! Ugh, you better edit that out.”

“Yeah, yeah, Court, I will.” Tom mumbles, sighing. She seems offended, mouth gaping.

“Don’t address me that way! Do you know how degrading nicknames are? How do you think most political campaigns end, Tom? Nicknames!” She claps her hands together thrice, scathing with gritted teeth and furrowed brows.

“Okay, okay, whatever, you crazy bitch, just finish up!” He yells back, probably for the first time ever. A few students freeze and look at the duo, then move on with their day.

Courtney glares daggers at the controller of the camera for a few seconds, then puts on a fake smile and flashes a peace sign. “Ahem.. Vote for Courtney!”

The recording ends with a subtitle:

Don’t vote for Courtney

Chris chuckles iconically. “Hehehe, damn.. Can we get Tom on the show? I mean, the back stabbiness, the character development unraveling as we watched in real time, the emotion necessary to freeze a room! Incredible!” He throws his arms into the air to exaggerate his point.

“Even A students watch TV, man. Need someone relatable for the preppy dorks of the world to latch onto.” Chef folds his arms, looking down at his partner with a stern, almost bored look.

“Is that Beth chick not enough? Fine. Courtney is in, if only so we can see more of her looney side. Next!”

Harold

This audition tape began with yet another dork smiling at the camera, he was in what looked like a boy scout outfit. “13.2 seconds, that’s the time it would take for me to kill an elephant with my bare hands. Not that I would, they’re endangered. But I could, that’s my hunting hand to hand combat badge. HYAH!” From out of nowhere two yo-yo’s entered the field of view for the camera! “I call this the double-decker-loop-to-loop-wild-style-space-typhoon technique, something taught only to grand masters at Rolling Steve’s yo-yo and- AUGH! OUCH!” One of the yo-yo’s hit Harold in the nose while the other wrapped around him in a way that took him to the floor! Luckily, or unluckily for him he was still visible! “I can get out of this, don’t worry. I have a badge in escape arts, I could probably get out of this if it was chains and I was submerged in water with sharks or something…” Harold was really hoping he could escape some sharks while drowning. That would be so awesome. After struggling for a moment Harold was actually able to get himself out pretty seamlessly. “As you can see I possess some mad skills no one else has. I can nibble rope like a rat, I can hold my breath under water for seventy three seconds, I can even pick locks with my teeth if I need to… Probably.” “Well that was a whole lotta nothing from that string bean. NEEEE-” “No, no, wait a minute! Chef…” Was that tears in Chris’ eyes?!

“Oh… What’s up man? Cecilia taking more money aga–” “NO CHEF, SHE IS NOT! Ahem , I used to use a yo-yo. Maybe you don’t know this, before settling on being a host I was in Toronto’s Next Yo-Yo Stars until… I tragically took one to the gonads. I-I had to make a career decision and focus on television!” Chris looked like he was about to tear up again, Chef knew all about giving up on a dream and settling. “It’s alright Chris, hey maybe we can take this kid then?” “I had to settle and here I am… Divorced and hanging out with a disgruntled drill sergeant turned Chef!” Chef’s empathetic expression quickly turned into one of annoyance as he let go of Chris. “And here I am hanging out with a divorced PAST HIS PRIME Cali-Dude Bro!” “Past his prime? Nonsense Chef! For Harold we’re in agreement he’s in, right?” That story about the yo-yo thing couldn’t be fact checked. Chris just figured another punching bag wouldn’t hurt the show too much. “Fine! String bean can be in the show! Can we just move on? And don’t tell any more LIES!” “My bad Chef! It was the actor inside of me.”

Trent

Next up was a young man sitting at his computer desk, he had a guitar in his hands and a microphone up to his mouth. “Hey there whoever is watching this, I’m Trent. Just your typical dude who loves playing guitar and writing music. Check this one out.” Trent began strumming his guitar humming in melody with the instrument until his eyes opened getting ready to sing. “I–”

“TRENT!” His door swung open as a man who looked as if he could be his father stepped in the room and gave him a disapproving glance. “I thought you were studying for your SATs? Why are you playing a pretend band again?” Trent rolled his eyes before turning to face the man. His previously composed posture had turned into a slouched mess.

“Dad, I’m just taking a quick break. Trying to get onto that show I mentioned earlier, remember?”

“Is that show you’re trying to get onto comparable to Yale? How about Harvard? Even Princeton?” His father argued rather matter of factly. “Maybe? There’s a cash prize for whoever wins. What if life isn’t so cut and paste as you make it seem?” Trent tried to argue his case but his pleas just got met with a door shut in his face. His dad was always like this, never once could he support his son without making it about what he wanted. He finally turned back to the camera with a sigh as he started strumming a new tune, this one a lot more somber than the last. “So you see… I really want to try and win that money so I can go to any school other than a posh law school. Maybe meet some like minded people, join a band… Meet a girl?” “Hey Chef, we have daddy issues yet?” “Is there ever enough?” “Nope, probably not! Plus he gives off that ‘not like the other guys’ vibe teenage girls just love.” Trent wouldn’t be that hard at all to market. His audition tape sells himself!

Bridgette

Ah, the beach. Typically, a calm and serene despot for young teenagers to run about, get high or catch a wave. Today however, we see a large crowd of people surrounding a blonde haired, hourglass shaped swimsuit toting girl as she places a beached baby whale on her surfboard, gently as if it were made of porcelain lying it down on its back. The camera shakes and thrashes as if its holder is running. It stops to zoom into the savior’s face as she carefully pushes her board out, getting on her knees to usher the whale back to the open water.

The crowd around her cheers while she swims back some thirty seconds later before dispersing back to their cliques to celebrate the saving of ocean life. The surfer chick looks surprised when she notices the camera is on her.

“What, we’re doing that now?”

“Bridge, chillax, girl. It’s been on! Just roll with it, okay?” A feminine voice with a heavy hippy accent says from behind the camera. The star rubs her bare arm, looking nervous.

“..Okay. Hi! I’m Bridgette. I’m sure you understand what I’m all about from.. All of that just now, so.. Let me explain my reasons for wanting to join.” Bridgette takes a deep breath, hands on her hips. “I know there will be plenty of people joining your show looking only for the pleasures of wealth, to satisfy their own selfish desires. But I think the cash you have, producers, could be put to real good use.”

She pauses, picking up her board to lean against it, making her appear smaller. “Foundations, charities, safer beaches, animal and people hospitals, commercials raising awareness for these very big issues, I think with one hundred thousand dollars I could very well save lives and make Canada one step safer than it was before. If I do lose, I promise to exit with my head held high and my spirit ready to make an improvement either way!”

“That was it! Wasn’t so bad, was it, babe?” The girl asks, a smile obvious in her voice.

Bridgette nods. “Thank you for your consideration.” She finishes with a cute smile as the screen fades to black.

Chef, bored again, waves his hand with mediocrity. “Eh, too goodie-goodie. Pass.”

“Woah, Chef, hold on: did she say commercials? Imagine how many lawsuits/morality wars we could avoid with the producers and viewers if we have a few scenes of Bridgette telling us off, or rescuing wounded pigeons. Boucot bucks saved and made, man!” Chef rolls his eyes at his partner's ludicrous saving habits.

“I’d still rather have the guy with all the sexy weapons.”

“No way, dude’s a creep and not in a funny way. Pretty sure our contestants would sue us, and they can’t even do that without probable cause we didn’t list in the contract.”

“You mean creepy in your way?” Chef grins. Chris is not amused.

“I am not creepy. I am sexy. Anyways, she’s in for the commercials we could make alone and that’s final.”

“Whatever, man. Next.”

Lindsay

A long haired blonde girl wearing tight, purposely ripped jeans that hugged her figure like a bear on a cub and a red tank top without a bra spoke through gloss covered lips, smacking every word that came out of her mouth as her cliché bulgy eyed chihuahua stared at the camera from under her breasts.

“Hi, my name’s Lindsay! The audition sheet says to list my best qualities, but I have so many.” She flutters her butterfly lashes, smiling adorably. She let’s go of her dog, who immediately sprints away upon being freed. She leans forward in criss cross position, showing off her cleavage. “I’m pretty, and smart and I get along with everyone, even ugly girls and dorky boys.” She nods with her eyes closed as if she’s somehow all knowing.

“Somehow, I was able to get offered twelve summer jobs just by walking down the street a mile from my house, but who has time to work all summer? If I’m gonna get money, I wanna do it by being me! Not Tina from behind the counter who has to watch other girls buy pretty clothes, although I’d totally love to help ugly girls get makeovers, or help pretty girls be prettier! If you couldn’t tell, I’m what my ex boyfriend calls a bimbo; really nice.” She rambles almost as long as her hips are wide.

“Oh, did I mention? For the American version, I’m bilangual: I speak fluent Canadian and American.” Her beautiful teeth shimmer as she smiles earnestly. Chris and Chef are floored.

“You know, I’m real happy there are no cameras in the room, otherwise uncle Chris might find himself on Twitter’s hitlist for saying this.”

“Saying what?” Chef cautiously asked.

“Man oh man I cannot wait to stare at that girl in 4k HD surround sound 1080p glory.” Sweat and drool coated Chris’s face as he spoke. Chef looked disturbed.

The audition opens with a stationary camera aiming at a tall Jamaican man with brick built arms and a picture of a middle aged black woman who looked a lot like him on display beside his bed. The setting was clearly his room, but the giant wasn’t just talking to his camera; he began to jump and flutter in the air, holding a pink ribbon as he paraded himself about his room wearing a white uniform for ribbon dancing. He finished his act with a split, never breaking eye contact or a smile away from the camera. Afterwards, the footage cut to him sitting on his bed.

“Yo! My name’s Devon Joseph, or DJ! I think I’d be a perfect fit for Total Drama, cause I’m kind, and strong, and sensitive, and most of all, I was raised right.” DJ lifts up the picture of his stern but proud mother folding her arms and points at it. “Thanks, mom! Without you, none of this would be possible.” He lets his smile fade.

“My Momma ain’t gonna be able to provide for herself forever. That’s why, if I win Total Drama, I’m gonna get her the best housing I can get her, make sure she never has to work again. I’d also love to join to diversify my skills and make more buddies! Thanks for your consideration.” He finishes it all off with a wholesome smile and wave.

Chef seems emotional. Chris is laughing almost gut bustling at the kid’s impassioned speech, but Chef is weeping. “W-woah, C-Chef, buddy it is not that funny.”

The brolic cook grabs Chris by the shirt violently. “It’s not funny at all! Kids got heart, man. Don’t you have a momma? HUH?”

The host looks away, no longer smiling. “Well.. I mean, yeah-”

“Well, do you?!” He shakes Chris.

“Yes! Yes, I do, okay? Why?”

“Ain’t it exactly like us starting out?” Chef whispers, sniffling.

“I dunno what you mean.” “I started in showbiz to provide for my momma, to make it big, to prove to her that I was more than a cook! I am a professional, and she raised me right! Do you understand?!” Chef wheezes, barely holding back tears. Now Chris is crying too.

“Yes, Chef! I understand!” The odd pair begin weeping into each other's shirts, bawling their eyes out as the next audition plays.

Geoff

“What more do you need brah? Party central here. Beaches, babes, and some gnarly burgers being cooked up by my buddy Brody. Lifes a party and I’m always hostin’ dudes.” Geoff put his cowboy hat over his eyes and soon got hidden behind another surfer. “Geoff bro, Johnny got us hooked up with the other B!” “Brody! The other B…?” “Some beer bro! His cousin Tony was up working at the shop and he swung in!” “Oh heck yeah dude! Let’s go and do a buttchug or wait…” The two surfer dudes pointed at each other and nodded. “SHOTGUNNNNNN!” The two dude bros clapped a high five as they ran off to go find their fellow surfers. At this point Chris and Chef had to do some fast forwarding, Geoff had left the camera rolling for what felt like an eternity. Eventually the surfer wandered back to the beach chair and plopped down as if he didn’t leave the camera on for nearly an hour. “Yup, average life of a party horse. Stressful? Not at all my dudes. Times like these are what we live for.” As his cowboy hat covered his eyes a final time, Geoff was finally asleep… But once again forgot to turn off the camera. “He knew he was still talking to the camera and yet he still didn’t turn it off?” Geoff screamed frat boy city to Chef. That wasn’t a one hundred percent negative thing though, Chef used to hangout with a party monster named Party Pete. He’d always wondered what happened to ol’ Pete, everyone figured he’d just partied too hard.

“Correct. Chef, I know you’re not invited to too many parties and the ones you are invited to you usually aren’t the life of. Please note there are some unspoken rules of partying. Rule one? Nothing but the party matters. Geoff lives to party! You can’t hate the guy.” Chef wanted to hit Chris with a sassy remark back but.. Yeah, he couldn’t hate Geoff. The guy seemed actually cool, unlike an actual fraternity “party animal”. He was in.

LeShawna

“Yo, yo, queen LeShawna coming to y’all ready for anything. Loud n’ proud, large and in charge, anything your TDI crew can throw at me, I can handle.” LeShawna then began to bust a move or two shaking her arms, head, and her… You can guess what else. “Let me promise y'all this too, there ain’t no party like a LeShawna victory party. Figuring I’ll be the one throwing it at the end and all if you pick me consider yourselves invited.” Continuing her spa-dancing she bumped towards the camera doing a call me sign and cutting the tape short. “Short, sweet, and to the point. What do you think, Chef?” “I think it’s prolly the opposite of her. A sister like that? Haha big, mean, and crazy, don’t let that party nonsense fool you. Woo-weeee.” “He said it, not me. Easy to misinterpret quotes aside, is she fit for the show?” “Her? Heh, she might be one tough nut to crack but that’ll just make it all the more fun when she does.”

Duncan

The visual quality of this one is grainy and barely comprehensible. The audio is very clear, thankfully. It almost looks like security camera footage. And, made out by the grainy footage, is a green mowhawked teenager scaling a large building while the full moon provides mood lighting. Obviously, a criminal.

He’s scaling the building downward with a rope, cocky grin glued to his face as he glances between the ground below and the camera.

“Hey, Duncan here! Though I’m sure you know me considering I’m somewhat of a local celebrity around these parts.” He remarks with gusto.

“Yeah, photographers are taking my picture all the time. It’s because of my charm and good looks, which is also why I banged half of Davis High. That and because I live in a big house with tons of security cameras, guards and guard dogs to watch over me. Not to mention: no parents!”

“My best quality? Let’s just say, I’m stealthy, a real thinker. Tough, too. Yup, the whole cake package.”

He hops down, finally free from the wall. The rope drops and an alarm blares. A spotlight highlights him and the sound of ravenous guard dogs catches his attention. He breaks character for a second, eyes widening as he realizes what he has to do. He starts running, still looking into the camera. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat but I really gotta run. My parole officer will be in touch!”

The recording ends with static and muffled yelling. Chris and Chef nod at each other, raising their brows with interest.

“A convict? Very cool!” Chris exclaims, writing his name down.

“Finally, someone I can relate to.” Chef says, arms behind his head.

His co-host places a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t push it, man. You’re way better than some bratty delinquent.”

He smiles. “Thanks, man.”

Chris smiles back. “You’re welcome. Next!”

Heather

We hear the sound of a shower turning off and see a hand reaching for a towel sitting on the shower curtain. Walking into frame for the first time was Heather, she was easily identifiable by her sly ‘better than you’ grin. “Will I be nervous if I get picked to be on the show? As if. I’m incredibly comfortable being on television, it wouldn’t be my first rodeo you know.” Heather reached for another towel to put over her hair, rolling her eyes at just the thought of even being embarrassed on tv. “What would I have to be ashamed of? I’m PRETTY. While I’m sure the standards won’t be anything to brag about being higher than, I’m going to be a 12 entering an average of 4. If you get me on the show I’ll sell it myself if I have to.” She waved bye to the camera and walked off screen, the last thing seen in this tape is two towels being thrown in front of the camera signifying that Heather was a bare naked lady for just a mere moment. “Well Chef, I think I’ve seen all I need to see here. Ratings? Check.” “Yeah, RATINGS huh? Face it Chris, you got a thing for trust fund white girls!” “Actually, Chef it says here that she’s ASIAN. So maybe take your racial assumptions back to 1970?” Chef raised his brow in annoyance towards Chris’ antics. Damn fool was going to make him sound like some good old boy from down south!

Gwen

Sitting cross armed in a computer chair is a goth girl in midnight blue who looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here. “Soooo… Am I supposed to sit here and do a talent or something? Why? So my tape can be shown off to the world and I can get laughed at? Not a chance I’d humiliate myself before I even get onto the show.” She rolled her eyes thinking about all the times she saw other people’s audition tapes make it onto the internet and they became laughing stocks for the world. She’d never leave herself vulnerable like that! “I’m Gwen. That’s all you trolls really need to know. I live with my mom and brother after my dear dad decided to leave us in the dirt for some floozy in Vermont. Yeah, Vermont , how desperate and deprived do you have to be?!” Just talking about her situation infuriated her. Was it too hard to just keep it in your pants?! “So look… I want to be on the show so I can try and win the prize money. If I ever want to go to college and help support my family I’m going to make more money than eight dollars an hour working my butt off in a kitchen.” Gwen wasn’t really sure how to sell herself without just trying to get pity from whoever was watching this. She wasn’t super talented or popular, she was just a down on her luck girl trying to provide for her family and future. “If you want someone there looking to win and not make friends, I’m your girl. If not… Whatever I guess.” That’s the last we see of the goth girl as the camera fades to black, leaving Chris and Chef to decide her fate. “Sounds like girl’s got it rough. First person I’ve seen other than DJ a while back who wants to spend the money on family.” “And you know what Chef? What’s more important than family? Sitting here with you, going through all these auditions… I think WE’RE family Chef. You get me, I get you. Same wavelength.” Tears started welling up in Chef’s eyes, did Chris really mean that? “Maybe I judged you too harshly, McLean. You ain’t a corporate puppet… You’re my BROTHER!” Chef leaned in and gave Chris a hug, embracing his co-host as if he truly was his own brother.

“And you know what Chef? Family really sells!” The hug immediately ended and Chef pulled away disgusted. “Forget everything I just said, you ain’t my brother!” “What?! Don’t be jealous dude, I’ve got to think about the family business first ‘bro’!” “Don’t call me bro McLean! Just get on with the next tape!” Chef was beyond offended! Just when he thought maybe he’d touched Chris’ icy heart.

Owen

A choir of church boys and girls are seen singing on a particular busy night. The camera recording all of this is clearly a smart phone propped up awkwardly where it won’t be seen, particularly zoomed in on a large blonde kid. The choir, including him, sing Hallelujah, with the blonde looking more and more red, anxious and suspicious by the second. At the finale of the song, when the kid slowly draws out the “Halleluuuujah..”, applaus erupts and the choir bows. The fat boy tries to, but ends up hitting himself on his stomach instead. He then runs towards his phone, picks it up and speed walks into what looks like a lounge.

The camera is positioned under his swollen chin until he places it against the counter wall, showing himself off as he opens the fridge and eats as much as he can, from donuts to fruits to an entire pie. Between bites he speaks.

“Hi.. I’m Owen! And I’m so psyched to be joining TD! Woohoo.” He whisper-yells the woohoo, continuing to eat as someone knocks on the door to the lounge.

“Owen, sweetie, you were amazing! Can we see you?” A sweet voice beckons.

“In a second, mom, hehe!” He smiles forcefully, though his chuckle is very cute, almost mascot worthy. “What? I eat when I’m stressed.. I wanna be on TD to party, but most importantly to find new, less judgemental people to be friends with. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my folks here at home, but they’re really not always so open to new concepts, if you get my meaning. Anyways, my best qualities are my iron stomach and endless sense of humor! I promise we’ll have a blast, bro’s! Catch you later!” He downs an entire peach cobbler, covering himself in crumbs, jam, chocolate and sugar.

“Owen? Who are you talking to?” A mature voice demands.

Owen bites his lip, leaving his phone to answer the door. “Sorry, dad, here I come!” The door opens and the choir, as well as their families collectively gasp. “...What?”

“You know, the final piece of this puzzle is a mascot. This kid’s got likability, the cute factor and he seems two dimensional at least.”

“He better appreciate my damn food…” Chef snarls.

“A starving raccoon couldn’t appreciate your damn food, Chef. It’s alright, man.” Chris offers a hand to Chef’s shoulder. He slaps it, paining him greatly before digging a kitchen knife out of his pocket and brandishing it.

“I’ll kill you, Mclean!”

Chris stands up as Chef bolts forward to chase him around their office. “H-hey, wait! Producers! Chef is fighting me again!” Chris knocks on the door desperately. “O-oh, and we got our cast! So get those signed copies of signatures and contracts ready!”

“You ain’t gonna have a head to host with, you bastard!”

“You wouldn’t dare touch a hair on my head- Chef, no!”

Oh, Mclean will have a head to host with. Stay tuned: Total Drama Island premieres soon.

#total drama #fanfiction #rewrite

2 notes · View notes

sunarintoes · 3 years

Text

Pretty Setter Squad Boyfriend Headcanons

part one can be found here II wc: 2.4k II includes: kageyama, suga, kenma, akaashi, semi and oikawa II atsumu and shirabu

rewriting because i cringe at the old hcs 😭

✗ Kagggggsss

✗ The emotionally constipated blueberry <3 oh yeahh 😎

✗ Okay well first off he can barely process his emotions (*cough* evidently *cough*)

✗ When you two first started going out he was quite shy and unsure of what to do so you may have had to guide him a bit, but if youre equally shy then it just would have taken longer to get to where you are now; oh and if that was the case it probably took some random burst of energy/confidence from either one of you to make the first move.

✗ He will buy you milk but uf you hate it (like me 🤢) he will buy you another drink - like juice :D

✗ I dont think he will be the most affectionate, it’s not his love language - and neither are words haHAH. His love language is most likely quality time and gift giving.

✗ He does like to cuddle though 😳

✗ In fact he really likes to :D his favourite is when youre sitting in his lap while he watches a volleyball game (at home - he hates pda).

✗ This brings us to our next, short point. Kageyama absolutely despises pda, he just thinks its something meant for closed doors and he does not believe that he has to display his relationship for the whole world to ogle at. The most he will do is light hand holding - mostly just linking your pinkies though.

✗ When it comes to height he does not care if you're smaller or taller than him ← but bb, please don't tease him about his height if he’s shorter because he will blow a fuse.

✗ He alternates between small spoon and big spoon, kinda depending on his mood.

✗ BOY O BOY does he get jealous. Uh please reign in your setter >:(

✗ Its mostly due to the fact that he’s insecure about himself - he thinks you will leave him like everyone else (in middle school - yes, he is still traumatised from it.)

✗ When he does get jealous he might be snappy to the other person and glare at them or be snappy at you and glare at you. When this happens please give him space because he needs it to clear his head. When he feels better he will come up to you and hug you into his chest so that he can’t see your face and you cant see his, then he will mumble an apology.

✗ Ever since you two began to date he has practiced apologising and getting better at apologising, this is because his inability to admit to his own mistakes was a sour patch in your relationship that almost ended it but he really did not want to lose you so he sucked up his pride and worked on what he had to; of course you also worked in what you had to. God I love character development 😩

✗ Dates are mostly at home dates or dates revolving around volleyball. If you're not into volleyball, Kageyama would not date you, it's something he is so passionate about and loves with every breath he takes (like you) and he refuses to compromise one love for the other.

✗ ooooh he likes arcade dates a well! He thrives in a competitive environment. If you're not competitive and don't want to compete against him then he’ll compete for you - against the machines lol. Of course you play as well! But i doubt youre as competitive as this blueberry, and if you are - well i guess at the end of the day youll both be stacked in tokens 🤠

✗ Sugawara my beloved <33

✗ He. Is. So. Affectionate!

✗ Mans loves skin on skin contact ykwim?

✗ He is down for pda and does not care what others think - only what you think <3.

✗ I mean he might make out with you in public if you ask nicely

✗ Dates are very fun with him, he’ll take you to cafes, to amusement parks, to carnivals, to movies and all the like. He’s a cliche lover and he’s proud of it.

✗ Your first kiss happened on New Years Eve/Day. The two of you sat on the roof of his house and watched as the fireworks lit up the starry sky of Miyagi and chanted the count down together. The second ‘one’ left your lips he grabbed your face (softly!!) and pulled you in to crash his lips against yours.

✗ Suga loves to cuddle, preferably face to face because he just thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world.

✗ He is not the most jealous person, he definitely does get jealous but never of strangers. It's more when his close friends or your close friends get a bit too comfortable if that makes sense? He normally plays it off with humour and messes around because he acknowledges that he is insecure and that it is most likely him thinking of the worst case scenario; however if he really does start to worry and get jealous then he will sit you down and talk about it with you. To him, communication is key.

✗ Ngl Kenma is definitely in my top 3 favourites.

✗ I may or may not be a Kenma kinnie 😳🙈

✗ i love my non-toxic gamer boy <33 anywho: no matter what ANYONE says, kenma is definitely affectionate. In fact I'd say he’s one of the most affectionate boyfriends. As we all know, he is shy and introverted but he likes to hang around and spend time with people he likes. He also talks a lot to them. So I hc that he’s a bit of a chatterbox with you and it makes him really happy when you let him talk about a game or a theory he has. He’s a great listener so you can count on him to pay attention to what you say.

✗ if you didn't already have one, he bought you a switch. He loves video game dates especially when he can't see you in person (*cough* lockdown *cough*)

✗ he loves when you sit on his lap when he plays video games. I know everyone talks about sitting on their partner’s lap as some sexual thing and yeah that can happen but most of the time he’s really soft with you and just enjoys being close to you. Loves when you cuddle into him while he plays so that he can place his head on yours or your shoulder.

✗ i think he is a bit shy when it comes to kisses but definitely warms up after a while. He absolutely refuses to sleep if he doesnt get your goodnight kisses. He loves to kiss you on your nose and your cheeks the most. He loves when you kiss him on the forehead and the nose <3

✗ kenma is not one for pda, it's just not his vibe. He prefers intimacy and privacy; his relationship is not a movie for the world to watch and gawk at. Especially timeskip!kenma. Though that does not mean he wont ever show you skinship in public, occasionally he will softly hold your hand and maybe press a light kiss to your cheek.

✗ in terms of jealousy, he is moderate. Kenma, as we all know, has incredible people reading skills, so he understands the situation pretty clearly and knows when you’re uncomfortable/what you think of the situation. Most of the time you can deal with the unwanted attention and he doesnt get jealous, but he does get insecure. He shows this by going quiet and looking away when you look at him, you can cure this by giving him hugs when you get home.

✗ Akaashi my beloved <3 he’s so pretty i can't even-

✗ ugh! Just imagine him in a dark/light academia aesthetic.

✗ perfection.

✗ akaashi is the sweetest most attentive boyfriend, he loves you to pieces and never fails to let you know. He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He probably makes meals for you and leaves notes in that have a sweet comment like “i love you, you're the best <3”

✗ he love back hugging you BUT also receiving back hugs 🥺✨

✗ akaashi is a booknerd and an introvert. Please cuddle up to him and let him read his book to you.

✗ there are only 2 things that can restore his social battery: sleeping and you.

✗ which means he wants cuddles when he’s tired 😊

✗ he is not jealous. He just doesn't get jealous, maybe annoyed if the third party is being a bit too pushy and you're clearly uncomfortable, but he just never feels jealous. No matter how hard you may try to make him jealous (plz dont cause that's kinda toxic imo) he just won't feel that way.

✗ definitely the ‘mom/dad’ as he carries sinister, pads, bandaids → a whole first aid kit basically, everywhere. Bb must be prepared.

✗ dates are so sweet with him, cute niche cafes and dimly lit libraries. Maybe the occasional abandoned building. He loves spending time with you, so really he's happiest whenever he’s with you; having coffee at McDonalds or a niche cafe won't change anything.

✗ he’s hard to pinpoint for pda. I feel like he’s indifferent about it. He probably prefers to keep it indoors or to just small and sweet gestures (no making out in public sorry-). It definitely comes down to your preferences, if you don't like it then he won't and vice versa.

✗ semi semi semi semi semi semi

✗ omg mr musician

✗ he definitely plays guitar - lead guitar and bass guitar.

✗ skilled fingies for sure 😗

✗ boy why are musicians so hot???? 😫😫😫💦💦

✗ he writes songs about you. Semsem has a bit of trouble saying exactly how he feels, so he writes it and sings it to you with a small little smile and eyes full of love.

✗ off topic but Semu has the best music taste in haikyuu

✗ he loves hugs so much <33 please hug and cuddle with him 24/7

✗ very affectionate, he’s always touching you someway. Loves kissing your forehead.

✗ he is jealous. Yeah definitely. He writes songs about being jealous 🗿 not that you mind of course ‘cause they're bangers. I think he might get snappy when he’s jealous, not directly at you but at the other person. He definitely gets a bit bitchy. Sometimes he acts that way to you so you've just gotta slap some sense into him. Say something like “what's your problem?” or “tell me what your problem is so i can help fix it.” ← that's probably the best thing to say.

✗ afterwards he’ll just snuggle with you until he feels better.

✗ he asks for your opinion about his songs all the time, please be honest (but also praise them if you like them lol)

✗ he takes you to niche spots he finds, like hidden concerts and stuff. Loves when you come to his gigs <3 oh and when you scream for him (in more ways than one).

✗ dates are cute and fun. Mostly walking around together → carnivals, main street, farmers market. Those kind of things.

✗ when it comes to pda he loves it. Loves being able to show the world who his s/o is. If you don't like it then he will tone it down and only do what you’re comfortable with. If you're also into pda then he will happily make out with you anywhere (you're one of THOSE couples 🤢 /j)

✗ all round best boyfie <3

✗ oikawa 😳 have i told y'all how much i love him? Oikawa is the best written character, no cap, he is so complex and real it's crazy. It's so fun to write about him because you can pick him apart, you know his flaws, his weaknesses, his nightmares but also his strengths and dreams. Anywho i'll stop ranting now but i just love writing for such a perfectly imperfect character-

✗ he puts up a cocky exterior but thats all false. He's as scared as you are, he's scared that you'll leave him like his exes because of how obsessed and focused he is on volleyball. However he is a changed man, he's learned to balance his priorities. If you ever feel like you're being sidelined please communicate with him.

✗ he values communication above all else and wants nothing more in a partner than for them to also value communication.

✗ back to the point → if you feel insecure of your relationship and that volleyball is taking too much of his attention let him know. He will change that. To an extent → he may have an important game coming up which is why he is focusing more, but he will always find time for you.

✗ he never forgets to text you good morning and good night. He also sends you wholesome memes and makes sure you're taking care of yourself - they're like reminders for him to also take care of himself.

✗ he is both jealous and insecure. Everyone who gets too close to you or spends a lot of time with you, he is jealous of. Jealous because he wishes he could spend more time with you but he knows he can't - not without jeopardising his volleyball career. He's also insecure, because he knows you could just leave him for a more fulfilling, more attentive, more balanced relationship. You know that too, I mean, of course you could leave him but no one would be as good as him. No one could match up to your beautifully flawed boyfriend.

✗ he is affectionate, very, very affectionate. He loves you so much. And because he spends so much time on volleyball, anytime with you he's touching you - memorizing every dint, every curve, everything about you so that he won't ever forget.

✗ Oikawa has trouble sleeping unless he's with you, he wants to sling to you in his sleep and be grounded and remember that he is loved and cherished and appreciated y'know?

✗ pda is not an issue for him. He doesn't care what anyone else says or thinks :P in this relationship the only opinions that matter are his and your’s. Tell him you're uncomfortable with something and he won't do it, and vice versa. But otherwise, like Semi, he won't mind having a good makeout session with you in the middle of the street ;)

352 notes · View notes

haus-seeblick · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

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

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

#suptober21 #no vacancy #gotta love some cramped car kissing #scheming sam strikes again #destiel fanfic

67 notes · View notes

spacexcowgirl · 3 years

Text

Worth Fighting For - G.W.

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N and her friends planned the perfect get away. The only thing not perfect? George and her broke up right before it was time to go. Now, they’re stuck sharing a room for one week and dealing with their friends trying to push them back together at every turn.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Brief alcohol usage, alludes to sex but no actual smut, mentions of cheating but no one actually cheats, kinda angsty but a fluffy ending. I don’t think anything else?

A/N: *gasp* and there was only one bed?? This is so cliche I don’t even care. I’ve posted two Fred fics, so it was time for some George love. Feedback always welcomed! Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

You stared at yourself in the dressing room mirror, adjusting and readjusting the straps of the short floral dress. Truthfully, the dress fit perfectly, but you still couldn’t seem to get comfortable. A frustrated sigh fell from your lips just before the curtain to the dressing room flew open, causing you to squeal.

“Give a girl some privacy, would ya?” You huffed once your eyes adjusted to Angelina’s beaming face.

“Oh please, you’re completely dressed.” She rolled her eyes lightly. “Speaking of, I love that dress on you.”

“Really?” You turned back once again, prepared to give yourself another once over in the mirror.

Angelina offered you a nod in response, then without a warning began to strip down to her bra and underwear and tug the maroon dress she had brought in over her head. You scoffed and averted your eyes, only to hear Angelina giggle softly behind you. Years of quidditch and changing freely amongst teammates had made her entirely unashamed. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for you.

Shyly, you faced your body away from hers and began to pull the dress off of you. The next thing you had to try on was a red bathing suit—one that Angelina had picked out, of course. When you had it fashioned on firmly, you gazed at yourself in the mirror. You looked good, like, really good. Still, you felt anything but. Another sigh left your lips, which seemed to be a recurring theme of the day.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t go.” You breathed out, meeting Angelina’s eye in the mirror.

“Uh uh, we are not discussing this.” She shook her head quickly. “You’ve already paid, it’s been planned for months. You’re going.”

“But it’s going to be so awkward!” You whined, finally turning to face her full on.

“You know George would never let things be awkward.” She argued as she placed her hands on her hips. You loved Angelina, you truly did, but you knew arguing with her always ended up pointless. “Besides, you’re really going to miss out on an opportunity to show off everything he’s been missing?”

Even if you didn’t want to admit it, she had a point. You were far from a prideful person, but who wouldn’t want their ex to see them glowing post-breakup? Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was some faulty bit of your brain that craved the validation of proving yourself to him, but you couldn’t help it. You bit down on your lip and pondered her words for a moment before eventually giving in with a roll of your eye.

“You’re right.” You muttered softly, avoiding her gaze.

“Always am.” Angelina quipped back. “Now, get changed and grab that swim suit and dress. George Weasley isn’t going to know what hit him after seeing you in those.”

It was a week later as you nervously picked at your cuticles to avoid eye contact with everyone around you. When everything had been planned, a group vacation felt like the much needed escape you had been longing for. Now, it was plaguing you with more anxiety than work or the general qualms of life ever could.

Angelina was at the front desk of the resort, checking everyone in and gathering the keys. The rest of you—which included You, Fred, George, Alicia, and Lee—were participating in a bit of small talk. Everyone but you seemed to have bright smiles on their face, excitedly awaiting what the rest of the week away would bring. Unbeknownst to you, George too lacked any sort of visible excitement, as his eyes couldn’t seem to leave your figure or the way you were partaking in that old nervous habit of yours. He hated to see you so visibly distressed, but what he hated even more was knowing that he was the cause of your unease.

“Got ‘em!” Angelina announced brightly as she returned to the group. In her hand, she dangled three room keys in the air.

You reached your hand forward to retrieve one right at the same time George did, resulting in the two of you brushing hands. You quickly withdrew your hand, and you didn’t miss the pained expression that crossed his face from you doing so. It made you feel awful, truthfully, but you couldn’t help it. You just weren’t prepared to be near him, to touch him, so soon.

“Eager, are you?” Fred attempted to lighten the situation, but you only could muster the energy to offer him a small grimace in response.

Angelina rolled her eyes lightly before handing you a key, then Alicia one, then tucked the final one in her pocket. Your brows furrowed at her actions, and you found yourself glancing anxiously between Alicia and Angelina.

“Why’d ya give me and Alicia both a key?” The question was somewhat rhetorical, because you feared you may already know the answer. Your stomach was in knots at just the prospect. “I just figured… We,” You paused to gesture between you and Alicia. “Would share a room, and George and Lee would share one.”

Of course, this trip had been planned long in advance, well before your and George’s untimely breakup. At the time, it had only been logical that you and George, and Angelina and Fred—the two couples—would have their own rooms, while Lee and Alicia shared one with two beds in it. You hadn’t thought to clarify the change in plans before coming, you had just hoped it would be obvious. There was no way you could share a room with George for a week when the wound of your failed love was still so fresh.

“Sorry, doll face,” Lee grinned at you. “But I don’t share beds. ‘m a kicker.”

“That’s fine.” You hurriedly shook your head. “George can just take Alicia’s single bed, and me and her can share the double.”

“Actually,” Alicia paused to let out a small cough. “Bad timing, babe, but I think I might be coming down with something. Wouldn’t want to get you sick.”

You narrowed your eyes at your friend. The two of you had known each other long enough to know that she was most definitely lying. Your mind was in overdrive trying to come up with the best way to nicely insinuate that she most certainly wasn’t sick, but George spoke up before you had the chance.

“I can just take the floor. It’s fine.” His voice was soft and there was an undeniable trace of pain behind it. Your eyes found his for the first time, and you felt as though your heart was breaking all over again.

The worst part about your breakup had been the fact that it wasn’t born out of some explosive fight or some lack of love. The two of you had just gotten too caught up in your own work lives and fell out of touch with communication. In the end, you both agreed you still loved one another, but you felt too far apart to fight for what you once had. You had both hoped to remain friends, but doing so ended up being harder than you’d expected.

“Alright.” Your voice was soft, just as it had been in the end. “That’s fine.”

With that, Angelina wordlessly lead the group of you towards the elevator. It was most of your first time spending so much time amongst muggle amenities, but Angelina had done her research. She had almost everyday of the trip packed with sightseeing and activities, all to give you the experience of what a true muggle holiday would be like. At about a year past the end of the war, this was exactly what all of you needed.

After arriving on your floor, you headed down the long hallway in search of your rooms. Lee and Alicia’s was right next door to Fred and Angelina’s, while you and George were across the hall from them. Silently, you turned the key into the door and pushed it open. You could feel George’s presence behind you, but neither of you could find the words to speak.

Once your eyes adjusted to the bright light spilling in, you let out a small gasp in awe. It was beautiful, truly. A bathroom sat to your left, but further in the room laid a queen-sized bed, a television sat before it, then large sliding-glass doors that lead you to a balcony overlooking the ocean. You sat down your bags and made your way to the door, unlatching the hook before stepping out and breathing in the warm, salty air.

“Bet they’re all jealous, we got the room with the view.” George joked lightly as he came out to stand beside you. You simply hummed in response, keeping your eyes trained outward. George let out a soft sigh before facing his body towards you. “Look, Y/N, I don’t want this whole trip to be weird.”

“I don’t want that either.” Your voice was quiet as you forced yourself to look at him.

“Then let’s just, you know, be friends for the next seven days. Like we used to be. If you want to go back to not speaking after, I completely get that. But can we just try, for now?”

You bit down on your lip as you weighed your options. Just being this close to him was excruciatingly hard, but what other choice did you have? There was no point in making things awkward for everyone else, or ruining the trip, so you’d have to agree.

“Okay.” You finally nodded and extended out your hand. “Friends.”

“Friends.” He grinned at you, that same signature grin that had always made your heart race.

Godric, the next seven days would be hard.

A little over an hour later, you found yourself on the beach with the rest of the group. You had put on the red swimsuit that Angelina urged you to buy, and had gotten a little bit of that validation you craved when George’s eyes widened at the sight of you. Now, though, all you could focus on was the pit of nerves forming in your stomach.

Number one on Angelina’s itinerary of things to do was paddle boarding. You had asked Alicia to share a board, to which she swiftly declined. Leaving you to share with George.

Although the place you had rented the boards from had given you instructions on how to stand up on the board and all of the safety requirements, it seemed almost no one listened. The group of you hadn’t even be out for more than five minutes before Fred was tumbling off of the board, effectively flipping Angelina into the water as well.

“You prat!” Angelina screeched when she breeched the surface. Fred was laughing uncontrollably as he tried to coax Angelina into his arms, which only resulted in her splashing him.

“Reckon we’ll be the best at this.” George spoke to you confidently. Before you could stop him, he was swiftly raising to his feet, causing the board to wobble slightly. You squealed, but ultimately calmed when the rocking ceased. “See? I’m a natural at this.”

“Think I’ll just stay down here for a bit.” You glanced over your shoulder at him. You were still on your knees, certain if you tried to stand, the two of you would end up in a similar situation as Fred and Angelina.

“Oh come on!” George whined. You looked up at him defiantly, only to find an ever familiar mischievous glint now in his eyes. “If you don’t get up, I suppose I could just…” And without finishing his sentence, he widened his stance and began rocking the board slightly.

“George!” You yelped, grabbing desperately to the sides of the board. “Fine, fine, I’ll get up!”

A triumphant grin found its way on to his face as you scrambled to your feet, doing your best to keep your balance. When you wobbled slightly, George’s hands found their way to your waist, steadying your movements.

“I’ve got ya.” He chuckled, causing your face to flush. You were thankful your back was now to him, because the last thing you wanted was for him to see the effect he still had on you.

To your left, Lee had now purposefully flipped their board as well. Alicia was fuming as she tried to hoist herself back up on the board, only to be slid back into the water from Lee moving it. You and George made eye contact as you watched your friends struggle, immediately bursting into a fit of laughter.

For about another hour, it went on this way. George never flipped your board, despite multiple teasing threats that he was going to, and for that you were thankful. When it was about time to turn the boards back in, Fred had the idea to race back to the shore. Unluckily for you, the twins were pretty competitive, so you had to take this seriously, for George’s sake. Lee and Alicia didn’t stand a chance, what with him constantly laughing, leaving you two neck and neck with Fred and Angelina. Just before you reached the shore, you got an idea. You paused your paddling and glanced back to wink at George, who was looking at you confused.

“Oh no, Ang, your bikini top came undone!” You shouted, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“What? No it hasn’t—” She was about to argue, but the damage was already done. Fred had faltered in his movements, quick to help—and probably ogle—his possibly exposed girlfriend. The both of them furrowed their brows and looked back over at you for an explanation, but it was too late, you and George had breeched the shore.

George was quick to scoop you up in his arms and spin you around once you’d both hoped off your board. You squealed triumphantly in his arms, ignoring Angelina and Fred’s protests that you had cheated.

“We always did make a good team, yanno.” George spoke up once he placed you back on the ground. You couldn’t deny the butterflies now swarming in your stomach, and you had to force yourself to look away from him to calm your nerves.

“Although that was most definitely cheating,” Fred huffed as he arrived on the shore. “Gotta give you points for acting, Y/N. Well played.”

“Thank you, thank you.” You dramatically bowed, a grin plastered on your face.

“What d’ya say we head back and get cleaned up before our dinner reservations?” Angelina suggested, to which you all agreed.

The boys began dragging the boards back to beach rental, while you, Angelina, and Alicia began to make your way towards the resort. They squished you in the middle of them, linking their arms with yours, before shooting one another small smirks.

“I know what you two are doing, you know.” You sighed. “You’re trying to get us back together. But it’s not going to happen.”

“I don’t know,” Angelina replied in a sing-song voice. “You guys looked awfully cozy on your board, and on the beach.”

“Because we decided to be friendly, for the sake of the trip.” You retorted.

“Mhm, I’m sure that’s all that was.” Alicia chirped in, a knowing smile on her lips.

You simply groaned in response. With whatever else these two held up their sleeves, you were sure this was going to be a long trip.

Two days later, the group of you found yourselves at a muggle festival. The air was cool and the crowds thick, but you couldn’t be more happy. You skipped excitedly ahead of the group, a bag of candy floss in your hands. The stuff was so sugary it hurt your teeth, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Oh! Let’s go on that one!” Alicia pointed excitedly ahead of you, gesturing towards the large ferris wheel.

You all agreed and made your way towards the ride, tickets in hand. The line was long, but none of you had any problem waiting and chatting idly. When you guys were finally next in line, the worker asked how many were in your party, before ultimately informing you that it was four people per booth. Your stomach flipped as you saw a mischievous glint light up in Angelina’s eyes before turning back to the worker.

“Alright, it’ll be the four of us in one and the two of them in another.” She pointed to you and George.

You narrowed your eyes at Angelina, but ultimately knew there was no point in arguing and making a scene. The four of them clambered into the first booth while you and George waited silently for the next one. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and the distance between you was noticeable. The ride held pretenses for romance and alone time, and you were suddenly worried that it would be terribly awkward.

“Alright, in ya go.” The worker pointed ahead after the next booth came to a halt.

George held your hand to help you steadily step in before climbing in behind you. You both took a seat across from one another, unnervingly silent as you trained your eyes anywhere but each other. When the ride stopped again to let the next group of people on, George finally spoke.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’ve been trying to get us alone together.”

“You’re just catching on to that, are you?” You snorted, a small smile finding its way on to your face.

“I’ve had a guess ever since Fred said he couldn’t sit by you at dinner because the air was ‘too drafty.’” He grinned back.

“They truly are insufferable, aren’t they?” You giggled. “But you have to commend their efforts.”

“Yeah.” George hummed in agreement, idly glancing around as the ride began to move again. When he looked back at you, he had a devilish smirk on his face, one that told you he had an idea. “What d’ya say we get back at them?”

“What do you have in mind?” Your heart leaped at the idea of being reeled into one of George’s pranks for the first time in months.

George leaned forward and began to whisper in your ear, the smile on your face upturning as he revealed his plan. It was good, as his pranks often are, and you found yourself giggling as you nodded along in agreement. Certainly, this would get them off of your backs.

When your booth came to a halt and it was time to get off, you spotted your four friends waiting on you with smirks on their faces. You lightly rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to George and raising your brows, as if to ask ‘ready?’ He nodded in response, and your plan was set into motion.

“I cannot believe you, Weasley!” You screeched. All eyes were on you, which normally would have made you nervous, but the payoff for this should be significant enough to make it worth it. “You are an insufferable, selfish git!”

You climbed out of the booth and began marching away, but George was hot on your heels. The looks on your friends’ faces had quickly morphed into one of shocked horror and it was taking everything in you not to burst into a fit of giggles.

“And you’re a swotty know-it-all!”

“I don’t even know how I stayed with you for so long!” Once you were out of the way of the line, you paused to turn on your heels and point an accusatory finger towards him.

“Yeah? Me either!” He threw his arms in the air. “You always tried to make me the bad guy, even after you cheated on me with Garrick Ollivander!”

You shot George a bewildered expression, not expecting him to take that turn, but he slyly sent you a look that read ‘just go with it.’ Listening in, you could hear your friend’s horrified whispers from behind you.

“Y/N slept with Ollivander?”

“Isn’t he married?”

“Geesh, never would have guessed she was into older men.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you actually knew how to pleas—”

“Guys! Cut it out, you’re making a scene!” Angelina swiftly cut you off and rushed forward, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You shot George a small wink before turning to face Angelina and the others, and you suddenly couldn’t hold it in any longer. Both of you burst into fits of laughter, only furthering your friends confusion. Fred seemed to be the first one to catch on, and he crossed his arms over his chest before rolling his eyes.

“Oh ha ha, very funny guys.”

“I’d say that was some of our best work.” You nudged George with your elbow before a few more chuckles left your lips. “Although, I’m not sure why—of all of the people you could have said—you chose bloody Ollivander.”

“He was the first person who came to mind!” George laughed, putting his hands up in defense.

“You really should be an actress, Y/N.” Lee grumbled.

You beamed at him triumphantly in response.

“Hopefully this’ll teach you lot your lesson to stop meddling.” You shrugged.

All of your friends grunted in agreement, still mortified by your outburst and the many eyes that had been on you. Still, you’d find that once their initial fears had warn off, they were far from stopping their efforts to push the two of you together.

The final days of the trip seemed to go by in a blur. You and George had taken to alternating between who would take the floor, which only seemed fair. The dread you had been filled with at the beginning of the trip had subsided significantly, leaving you extremely glad that Angelina had convinced you to come. Some part of you even thought there may be a chance you and George could be friends again when you returned home.

Additionally, each day the group had still made it their mission to get you and George alone in some capacity. Whether it be leaving you alone together on the beach, or heading to bed early so you and George would be left to retreat to your shared room alone, it didn’t matter. You couldn’t exactly complain, though, because now that the awkwardness had subsided, being in George’s presence lit something aflame within you. It was terrifying, the feelings you had worked so hard to leave behind, all bubbling up within you once again. Especially when you were so certain that he wanted nothing more than to be friends.

Which now left you the night before you were set to go home, slightly buzzed from the many flutes of champagne you had ordered from the resort’s open bar. Fred and Angelina were a lot more than buzzed, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you watched them sway dramatically on the outdoor patio, their lovestriken energy pulling a few other couples to dance as well.

Lee and Alicia had kicked off their shoes and were wandering down to the beach, leaving you and George, once again, alone. You hummed idly to the soft music playing, letting your eyes drift close as the sounds around you interchanged with the crashing of the waves. George had his eyes set on you, although you didn’t know it, and the smallest of smiles had found its way on to his face.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol thrumming through you or the calming sounds of the ocean, but you suddenly found yourself wanting nothing more than to crash in the bed that waited for you inside. You let out a soft yawn, causing George to chuckle, before sleepily opening your eyes and gazing at him.

“Wanna head up?” He offered.

“I think I might.” You nodded, beginning to slowly stand. “But you can stay down here, I’ll be okay.”

“Nah, I’m ready to head for bed soon too.” George stood as well and offered his hand out to you, which you bashfully accepted. As the two of you walked off, you glanced back once over your shoulder, only to find Angelina and Fred silently cheering you on, goofy smiles alit on their faces. You brushed them off with a light roll of your eyes, but the sheepish smile on your face was undeniable.

Once you were back in your room, you quickly claimed the bathroom to change out of your dress and into your pajamas. When you exited the bathroom, you found George shirtless, his checkered pajama bottoms hanging low on his waist. The sound of you gulping caused his head to snap up and meet your eyes. Perhaps you were drunker than you thought, because you found yourself almost certain that you had seen him blush under your gaze.

To break the awkward tension, you hurriedly bounded towards the bed and jumped onto it while George pulled his shirt over his head. You patted a spot next to you, beckoning him over, which caused him to grin.

“Wanna watch something for a little?” You suggested as he sat down on top of the covers next to you.

He nodded in response, propping the pillows up behind him so he could rest comfortably against the headboard. You grabbed the remote from the nightstand and began flicking through the channels, entirely unfamiliar with muggle television and going completely by which title sounded the most interesting. You finally settled on The Silence of The Lambs—which you very quickly learned was not a lighthearted movie about the fluffy muggle animal.

It wasn’t long before you were under the covers and had them drawn up to your chin, completely terrified by the horrorific things some writer had thought to put in the movie. It wasn’t exactly a jump scare sort of movie, but it left you completely terrified and uneased. Still, you were too enraptured to change the channel. At some point you had put your hand down to help yourself sit up better, only to brush George’s hand beside you. You almost recoiled, but then his pinky was hooking around your own, and you thought better of it.

That was a friendly thing to do, right? It didn’t mean anything more. It wasn’t weird. It was just two friends, comforting each other in some small way during a horror movie, right?

The two of you stayed like that for some time, until the movie finally ended and you realized you’d have to put an end to your small touching. You clicked the screen off before another movie could start and bit down on your lip before glancing at George.

“You can sleep up here tonight, if you want.” You offered. “I mean, it is the last night and all. It only seems fair that we both spend it comfortably up here.”

“Right, yeah, that makes sense.” George nodded.

So with that you were flicking off the bed side lamp and finally pulling your pinky from his, prepared to get comfortable on your side. George turned on his side, as well, so that the two of you were facing one another. For a few moments, neither of you shut your eyes or spoke, you just gazed quietly. The soothing sounds of the ocean worked to calm the nerves in your stomach.

“Did you have a good trip?” George questioned softly, his eyes flickering over every inch of your face. You were bathed in moonlight, and he was certain he had never seen anything more beautiful.

“I did.” You whispered back, your eyes tracing his face as well. “I don’t think I want to go back to reality tomorrow.”

“Me neither.”

The two of you were quiet once again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the many nights, when things were right between you two, that you had basked in the absolute bliss of just being in one another’s presence. But now, you were friends. And friends didn’t stare at each other so intensely for so long. Just as you were about to speak up and point this out, he slowly extended out his arm and brushed some of your hair out of your face. His hand lingered there after he had tucked it behind your ear, then paused. It was like he was waiting for you to make the next move, to brush him off if that’s what you wanted.

But that wasn’t what you wanted.

So, you lurched forward and pressed your lips to his. He responded almost instantly, his lips molded against yours in that perfect way that only he knew how. His hand slid down from your face to rest on your hip, his thumb just barely brushing up under it and against your bare skin. His touch alone made you shiver, and you had to pull back briefly just to make sure this was real.

When you saw his eyes looking at you so softly, you decided that not even your best dreams were this good. It had to be real. So, you pressed yourself closer to him and kissed him with every emotion you held in you.

It wasn’t long before things progressed significantly, and it wasn’t until both of your clothes were completely forgotten that you found yourself internally questioning what you were doing, and what it meant. But as he pressed his lips to yours and whispered your name like it was the only thing in the world he was certain of, your worries melted away. At least, for tonight, you had each other.

You awoke the next morning with a pounding headache, the kind you always got after a few glasses of champagne. You found yourself wanting to groan, but stopped yourself when you realized you were wrapped up in George’s arms, still naked from the night before.

You sat up quickly, causing George to stir and groggily sit up as well. In his morning haze, he had a sleepy smile as he gazed at you, and it took everything in you not to reach out and fix his messy morning hair. Once he finally processed the immense worry behind your eyes, his mouth fell into a frown and he rubbed at his eyes.

“Something wrong?”

“Uh, yeah, George. I’d say something’s wrong.” You scoffed, quickly getting up to look for your clothes. “What the hell were we thinking? We finally got to a place where we were okay with being friends, and then we just completely destroyed it.”

He was silent as you picked up your discarded pajamas and began to tug them on. When you’d come across one of his articles of clothing, you’d ball it up and throw it towards him, feeling nothing but anger at your lack of self-control and at his charm.

“Godric, I’m so stupid. I should’ve never come on this bloody trip, I should’ve just stayed home. I spent so much time picking out the perfect outfits to make you notice me, to be something you’d miss, no wonder this happened. I—”

“You did what?”

You hadn’t even really processed your own ramblings, but his question caused you to freeze. You straightened up, your back towards him, and let out a soft sigh.

“You’re not over me.” It was clear he meant for it to be more of a statement, but the uncertainty in his voice almost made it sound like a question.

“No, George, I’m not.” You scoffed again, still unable to turn and meet his eyes. “And that’s why what happened last night should have never happened. I should have never put myself in a position to be hurt again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was soft. “I’ve never wanted that.”

You shuttered at his sincerity, but the sentiment did little to help. Whether he wanted to hurt you or not, you were hurting. And that may not entirely be his fault, but it was the truth.

“We should just pack up and go.” You spoke again after a few moments. “Everyone will be down in the lobby in a little bit anyways.”

“But I want to talk about this.” He pleaded, now standing to tug on his boxers.

“What’s there to talk about George?” You finally spun around, your hands thrown in the air. “Last night was a mistake. A colossal one. So, let’s just go back to how things were before we came on this trip, yeah?”

George looked visibly shocked by your words, so much so that he didn’t speak up. You stared at him for a moment longer before grabbing your wand from your suitcase—since you hadn’t used it since you got there—and began using magic to re-pack your bags. George seemed frozen for a moment, and it wasn’t until you stormed into the bathroom that you finally heard his voice.

“It wasn’t a mistake for me.”

You paused, letting the toiletries you were about to pack up clatter to the ground. Your grip on your wand loosened, then you slowly made your way out of the bathroom to look at him.

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He shook his head. “I’ve missed you more than I thought it was possible to miss someone.” He took a step closer to you, taking it as a good sign when you didn’t flinch away. “I know we thought splitting up was a good idea, but darling, we were so wrong. I’d rather fight for us everyday than ever try again with someone else.”

“You don’t mean that.” Your voice was quiet as you tried not to get your hopes up. “You just think that because of what happened last night, and because this past week has been fun. When we get back home, you’re just going to realize that you don’t want me again.”

“No.” His voice was soft as he now stood right before you and gently reached his hand out to cup your face. “I’ve missed you since the second we decided to call things off, and I know I should’ve fought for you then. But I’ll fight for you now.”

You trembled slightly at his words, but still you found yourself leaning into his touch. You wanted nothing more than to give yourself over to him, completely, but you were scared.

“You are worth fighting for, and I’m sorry I ever made you think differently.” His thumb traced up and down your cheek bone. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

There was a moment of tense silence as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting your nerves be calmed by his touch. Slowly, you reached your hand up and placed it over his own, before turning and placing a gentle kiss to his palm. Your eyes fell back onto him as he anxiously awaited your response.

“Okay. Let’s work on us.”

And before you knew it, you were wrapped tightly in his arms. You knew you both had a lot to work on to make things right, but you were ready for it. If it meant having him at your side again, it was worth it.

When you met the others down in the lobby, their faces morphed from slightly hung over grimaces to beaming smiles at the sight of you and George, hand in hand. Fred and Lee whooped while Alicia and Angelina shot you knowing smirks, causing you to lightly roll your eyes.

George offered to take your bags and load them in the taxi, leaving you for a moment alone with your two best friends. They waited, anxiously, for you to spill everything, but you didn’t want to just yet. For a little bit, you wanted what happened to be just between you and George. Still, Angelina nudged you with her elbow and grinned.

“You can always thank me later.”

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley x y/n

763 notes · View notes

amukmuk · 3 years

Note

From the cliche prompt list - I'm going to save you from the terrible date. (I think that one jumped out at me thanks to the most recent chapter of One Day lol)

Ahhh! I love this prompt!!

Based in the One Day AU :3

From this prompt list

Ahsoka nods along to Derek's seemingly never ending monologue. It's honestly impressive, she doesn't know if it is nerves or what, but she swears he hasn't taken a breath since they've sat down. She's trying so hard to be an attentive listener, but even then she can't help but wonder what Rex would think of the place. The ambiance is expensive in a cheap sort of way--like the owners are trying to pass off subpar Italian as the best in town.

"Here is the veggie lasagna," the waitress says politely handing Ahsoka her plate, "and the chicken parm. Anything else I can get you folks?"

"No, I think we're okay," Ahsoka smiles.

"Actually can I get some ketchup? Whenever you have a moment," Derek smiles. He has a nice smile, Ahsoka can say that much about him, but even then she can't help her own grimace. Ketchup? Really?

The waitress sweeps away and Derek offers Ahsoka a bashful smile. "I just really love chicken tenders and chicken parm the best way to get that at an Italian restaurant."

"We could have gone somewhere else," Ahsoka says and cuts into her rather small portion of vegetable lasagna. She will definitely be hitting up a drive through after this. If she does, she'll call Rex on her way home and asks what he wants from the burger joint. She checks the time on her phone carefully balanced in her lap. He should just be getting off work. "I'm sorry," Ahsoka says, cutting Derek off mid-excuse for his 'youthful palate'. "Can you excuse me for just a moment?"

"Of course. Take your time."

She gets up from the table and makes her way to the ladies room. As soon as she is locked away in a stall, she pulls up her chat with Rex.

SOS

Everything okay? His response is instant and it makes chest warm.

I'm having an awful time

... I would like to take this moment to remind you that it was your idea that we 'get back out there'

But this guy is an actual man child. He still lives with his mom.

Nothing wrong with living with your mom

Rex. He ordered the chicken parm because there weren't any chicken nuggets on the menu. Save me. Please.

What do you need?

Call me on my signal? Pretend to be my sick brother.

Copy

With a smile curving her lips for the first time this evening, Ahsoka maneuvers her way back to the table. As she sits she sends a quick message to Rex.

"Anyway, so I was saying," Derek continues, dabbing sweat from his mile-long forehead.

Ahsoka's phone rings. "Oh. I'm so sorry, I need to take this. It's my brother." She swipes 'accept' on the phone and puts it up to her ear. "Hey, everything okay?"

Rex coughs dramatically into the receiver and she has to hold her phone away a little. "Ahsoka. Help. I'm dying."

"Rex, I'm kinda on a date right now," she says and mouths an apology to Derek.

"But I'm dying. Don't let me die alone. I can see my ancestors in the light beyond." The sarcasm is dripping from his tone and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out right.

"Are you sure you need me?"

"More than anything," he murmurs, tone as warm as honey.

"Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can," she pauses. "I love you."

"Love you, too. See you soon."

She puts her phone in her purse and gives Derek a small smile. "I'm so sorry, my brother."

"Sounds serious. Is he okay?"

"I'm sure he's just being dramatic, but it's best that I go and check it out." She tosses a few bills on the table. "Thanks again. It was lovely meeting you."

"Likewise," he says around a big bite of chicken.

Ahsoka doesn't look back.

She lets herself into Rex's house balancing a tray of drinks and two fast-food bags. Lucky, his golden retriever, bounces up to greet her. "Hey Lucky," she smiles. "Rexy home?"

"I better never hear you call me that ever again," Rex says, standing in the doorway to his kitchen, dish towel in his hands.

Ahsoka smiles at the sight of him. He's still in his uniform, a navy CFD t-shirt and navy cargo pants, but instead of his boots he wears grey knit socks. "I come baring gifts," she smiles holding up the bags.

Rex tosses the towel over his shoulder and moves to help her. "Date was really that bad, huh?"

"He wasn't a creep, thank god, but I just... I don't know, I guess I'm just looking for someone who can keep up with me." They sit on his couch and Lucky curls up on her feet.

"Sorry it didn't work out. If it's any consolation, you look great."

She smiles and tosses a braid of her shoulder. "I know."

They eat in silence and Ahsoka relishes in it. After a night of being talked at, the peaceful quiet that settles between her and Rex is like a balm. She knows no one else with whom she can share silence. In fact, she knows few people who can do anything that Rex does. He knows everything about her. He anticipates her moves before she acts. He always knows--

"Something on your mind?" he asks, balling up his napkin and tossing it in the box that held his burger.

He always knows when something is bothering her.

"Just thinking," she sighs and tosses a fry to Lucky.

"Anything I can help with?"

She looks up and over at him and it's like seeing him for the first time. His warm, honey gaze. The scar on his chin, the way his lips are held ever so slightly in a frown. His broad shoulders and narrow waist. The way his hands are folded neatly on his knees.

"I love you," she whispers.

His eyes widen and he sits back a little, no longer bending to catch her downward gaze. "I love you, too," he says. "You know that."

"No, I mean." She huffs and looks down. This is stupid. There's no way he loves her like that. She was his CO. They've been friends since they were children. He probably still sees the little girl on the playground. He probably--

"Hey, 'Soka, what's going on?" he shuffles closer and grabs her hand.

"Remember how I said we should 'get out there'?" she croaks and rubs her fingers across his knuckles, warm and rough.

"Yeah?"

"I... I don't really want to do that."

He's silent for a second and rasps. "Good... yeah, uh, that's good."

She looks up at him. "Why?"

"Because... I... Fuck I'm not good at this." And he surges forward. Her cheeks are held in his hands and his lips are on hers. He's kissing her. He's kissing her and it's amazing and she's so shocked that she's not kissing him back. He starts to pull away and she chases his embrace. She pushes forward and kisses him in earnest, eager and wanting.

They break apart when breathing becomes necessary and even then, they keep their foreheads pressed together.

"I don't want to date anyone else," Ahsoka confesses. Rex runs his hand over her braids and cups her chin. "I want you."

"Good," he whispers and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. "Because I don't want anyone else, either. Just you. Always you."

She kisses him again and again and again.

#rexsoka #one day #modern au #i didn't proof read this so just bare with me lol #amukmuk writes

37 notes · View notes

superbabetotherescue · 3 years

Text

Thanks, Brucie-Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1840

Summary: You reminisce on your childhood with your best friend

Warnings: some violence, none really described in detail except reader getting punched in the face (as an alternative to getting teeth pulled), do teeth need their own warning bc they might, probably swearing but idk, kinda sad but don’t worry it’s fluffy, Bruce is a lil bitch but isn’t that kinda par for the course?

A/N: Once again this is just an old oneshot I have that I like a weird amount for no reason. You can read it as platonic or romantic it’s up to you idk but I’m lowkey thinking of making it into a series as platonic best friends so idk. I mean you’re reading it if you want it to be romantic that’s fine lmao I don’t care

Growing up one of Gotham’s elite may be a charmed life, but that didn’t mean that it was without its faults. You had spent your time being ignored by your parents, and your best friend, Bruce Wayne, became an orphan during a back alley robbery when the two of you were kids.

Or at least, former best friend.

In truth, you hadn’t seen Bruce in a while.

Well, you saw him constantly on the news and in the papers and just existing in Gotham in general, but you never got to see him face to face anymore.

Not for lack of trying, either. You sat down one night, the fifth time that Bruce had blown you off to meet for dinner in the past month, and pulled out your old photo album.

There was your fifth birthday party, a year or two after you had met Bruce in mega rich kid preschool, and there the two of you were, sharing a chair and staring at your huge birthday cake.

And the next picture, your favorite, the two of you covered in said birthday cake.

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

“Brucie,” You had cried, whispering to him frantically, “Brucie, I got frosting on my dress!”

You were wearing a frilly pink dress that your mother had forced upon you, and in a moment of excitement you had leaned forward a little too far, and now the pale buttercream frosting covered your bodice.

“Uh oh,” Bruce breathed out slowly, adjusting his tie, pink to match your dress, and looking down at his own tiny three piece suit.

You were panicking, breathing heavily, “My mom is gonna be so mad!”

With a quick tug to your pigtails, Bruce shook his head, “I got this, Y/N.”

He reached forward and scooped a large chunk of the cake out, turning to you and smashing it against your chest quickly.

“Ah!” You jumped backwards, “Bruce!”

“Come on, hit me back,” Bruce hissed, grabbing another handful of cake and smushing it into your face.

As his plan dawned on you, you nodded, getting your own chunk of cake and throwing it at him, laughing delightedly as it landed in his hair.

“Bruce!” Mrs. Wayne scolded, running forward and crouching next to her son, who was currently trying to wrestle you, “You’re such a mess. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior!”

Your mother merely shook her head, smiling pleasantly, “Oh please, don’t worry about it, Martha. Those two are always getting into trouble.”

Victory!

You leaned over to your best friend with a wide grin, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

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

Flipping a few pages, you chuckled at what you saw.

Your face and Bruce’s fist matching in bloodiness, and a huge gap where your teeth were missing.

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

You were twelve years old, and you had five loose teeth. Your last five baby teeth. All in a row next to each other.

And, like most twelve year olds, you had a healthy fear of the dentist.

“They want me to go to the dentist tomorrow to get the teeth pulled!” You complained to Bruce, the two of you laying in his living room under the guise of studying.

He shrugged, “You just have to get them out before the dentist, right? Just keep wiggling.”

“I’ve been wiggling!” You sat up, shaking your head, “It’s not working. I need a new approach. Maybe Alfred can make something sticky for me to eat and the teeth will get stuck in it. Like that toffee your-”

You froze, not looking at Bruce anymore.

His hand touched yours gently, and you turned to see a small, sad smile on his face, “Like the toffee my father used to make at Christmas? That would be good. But Alfred’s working on something, I think.”

Nodding, you hmm’d quietly to yourself for a moment, “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t let the dentist pull my teeth. I just can’t do it, Brucie.”

“Don’t call me Brucie,” He scowled, but you knew he didn’t really care.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, pushing your teeth back and forth with your tongue as the two of you thought.

“I have an idea,” Bruce stood, extending his hand out to you, “But it’s a little unorthodox.”

If he hadn’t been offering to help you, you would’ve rolled your eyes at the way he spoke.

You rose next to him, nodding, “Anything! Anything that keeps me out of the dentist’s chair.”

He took a breath, deep, slow, thoughtful. His hand reached out towards your face, thumb stroking your lips, palm cupping your jaw and cheek.

What was he doing?

And then he reared his fist back, and punched you in the face.

It hurt, that was for certain, but it was well concentrated in one place, and you coughed as you choked on the teeth, spitting them into your hand.

“There’s only four,” You frowned, counting them quickly.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” He held his fist back out, and you saw the fifth tooth embedded in his knuckle, “You can have it back.”

With a chuckle you plucked the tooth out and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

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

Alfred had a field day with that one, you remembered, but it was still better than going to the dentist.

With a few more flicks of pages, you felt your heart catch in your throat.

Prom night.

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

5:30.

Your date was supposed to come meet you at Wayne Manor at 5:30 so that you could go out with Bruce and his pretty blonde arm candy.

And now it was 6:45, and he still wasn’t there.

You’d been pacing the parlor of the Manor for two hours. Bruce and his date kept disappearing to make out in various rooms, and Alfred had stopped standing at the front door and had instead begun to busy himself in the kitchen.

And you were crying.

“Shit,” You hissed, wiping a tiny smear of eyeliner out from under your eye.

You weren’t going to cry over him. Especially not after you’d spent three hours on your makeup. You couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just leave her,” You heard The Blonde complain to Bruce in the next room over, “She’s totally bringing down the mood.”

“Hey, back off,” Bruce sighed, “She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her all alone on prom night. Maybe she can just come out with us.“

“I’m not spending my prom night with some loser who got stood up by her own date.”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob and then speaking loudly enough for them to know they were meant to hear you, “Hey, Bruce? I think I’m just gonna go, okay? Sorry for holding you guys up.”

“Wait,” Bruce opened the door to the closet he and his date were in, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, don’t go.”

The Blonde gasped indignantly, and you shook your head, “No, seriously Bruce, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

“Don’t leave, Y/N,” He said again, and the solidness of his words, the complete authority in how he said it, was enough to freeze you, “I’m taking you to prom. You can’t leave me.”

What?

“What?” The Blonde shrieked, stomping her heel on the ground, “You’re not taking her, you’re taking me!”

Bruce gave her a rather pleasant smile, “Actually, I’m not. I think you’re a stone cold bitch and if I look at you for any longer than fifteen more seconds, I think I’ll vomit. Now get out of my house,” And with that, waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to you and grinned, “Now, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?”

A burst of energy running through you, you sprang forward and wrapped him up in a hug, “Absolutely. Thanks, Brucie.”

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

Closing your photo album, you sighed.

It felt like just yesterday in so many ways, and yet a million years ago.

What had happened between you two? What had you done to drive him away? Maybe a walk would clear your head.

You grabbed your keys and left, walking the streets of Gotham and thinking of your younger days.

There was a playground where you and Bruce would sometimes sneak off to play, halfway between both of your houses. It was where you had taught him how to throw a punch when you were six, where he had taught you how to cartwheel when you were eight, and where you two had shared your first kiss when you were ten.

You laughed at that memory too, wishing you had a picture in your album of that day, when the two of you had decided to be each other’s first kiss just so you’d know what you were getting yourselves into.

You’d sat on top of the monkey bars, staring into each other’s eyes as you came to your solemn decision, and leaned forward to give each other the briefest of pecks on the lips. And then you’d both fallen off the monkey bars, wiping your mouths and gagging dramatically.

Standing by those monkey bars, you ran your hands down the side with a smile.

And then you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into the back of your neck.

“Give me all your money, and get on your knees,” A dark voice growled.

Crap.

How could you let yourself be taken completely by surprise, in Gotham of all places?

Shaking, you tried to speak, your voice catching in your throat, “I… I don’t…”

“Hey!” A familiar voice sounded through the air, cutting you off, “Back off!”

You felt the rounded metal leave your skin and let out a sigh of relief.

Spinning on your heel, you watched as your attacker, a large man with a ski mask pulled over his face, so cliche, got the crap beaten out of him by…

“Batman?” You gasped.

Of course!

Batman wrapped an arm around you, scoffing at the thug on the ground, and shot a grappling hook into the air.

As you felt yourself fly your head spun, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

So this was why he kept standing you up. Why he always came up with some flimsy excuse. He couldn’t just tell you he was the Batman, and besides, the mystery of it all was surely an ego thing for him.

You landed outside your house a moment later, the dark suit encompassing Batman just intimidating enough for you to almost take a step back as he rumbled, “You should be more careful. Especially at night.”

But you couldn’t take his warning seriously.

Your best friend wasn’t avoiding you, he didn’t hate you, he just had a secret!

You were too ecstatic to pay his advice any mind.

And so you simply wrapped him in a hug, your arms erupting into goosebumps against the cold armor that he wore, “Thanks, Brucie.”

#Super Babe Original Content #super babe: fanfic #Bruce Wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman #Bruce wayne #Dc #batfamily #dcu #Dc fanfiction #batfamily fanfic #Once again this is just an old oneshot that I like more than I should lmao #Obligatory mobile apologies #And tag apologies #Idk what I’m doing with my life but ig this is happening so #Yeah #idk man #idk

76 notes · View notes

garrothromeave · 3 years

Text

the hell is mystreet season 6??

(warning, long post ahead)

ok so before i start this

1) ive never posted shiiiit on tumblr before so watch me suffer, im just here to talk about stuff that my friends who dont know anything about aphmau have to listen to me rant about for hours on end

2) i havent seen mystreet in like years (except season 3, i watch that frequently since im laurance and shadow knight deprived) so please bear with me because i might be completely wrong on this lol. it’s just like, pointing out things i remember

3) im sure someones already talked about this but who cares

4) im gonna do this stupid thing where i just explain myself a bit at first, if you dont want to read that just skip to the part where you see “the actual thingy:” in bold and italics

5) mild disclaimer; i am completely aware that jessica is not a professional writer. i know that she did her best to appeal to her fans, and honestly, respect for that. while this post will come off as aggressive and probably look like hate, that’s not my intention in the slightest. it’s just... intense criticism. im sure y’all probably already know that, but yeah, just stating that anyways. i do believe that jess is doing her best, and in no way do i want to dismiss any hard work she’s done. that being said; prepare for a very strongly opinionated post.

haha watch there be 10000+ typos in this making me look like a complete dumbass

ok here we go

one of the main reasons i stopped watching aphmau back in 2017 was the mess that was season 4. like, in the first few episodes of the emerald secret, i thought “woah!! this is kinda cool, im a sucker for mystery!” because of course i was, it was something new and something exciting. the only problem i had with it at the time was kim, but that’s just because i always found her annoying and out of place. i just didn’t understand why garroth dragged her along and honestly i still don’t to this day BUT, moving on.

anyways, as the season progressed, 13 year old me was of course just “:0!!” the entire time--that is, up until the reveal of the main villain. i remember watching the episode, seeing the reveal of ein, and then stopping. like, just for a quick break, but i was still just overwhelmingly disappointed. like, and this was the time when pdh was airing and ein just got made alpha (i think?) and i had really really liked eins character in pdh. either way, that really sucked and actually opened my eyes to a lot of things.

one of the main things bein’ the fact that this was supposed to be a slice of life kinda series that decided to take a turn to a more edgy kinda approach. which, i guess i regularly wouldnt mind? but seeing as mcd was kinda bein neglected at the time it just didnt sit right with me. BUT WHATEVER, point is i stopped watching mystreet all together at the end of season 4.

like, a whole year later my brother tells me that shit’s getting intense in season 5 + 6 of mystreet, and my brilliant self decided to give it a shot--but i refused to watch all of season 5, so i only stepped in when ein made an appearance. so whenever that was, that’s where i picked up because i didnt care enough to see

and y’know--i honestly didn’t hate it at first. in fact, i found it oddly cool. it wasn’t enough to get me into aphmau again, but it was enough to where i was intrigued. i dont know why, but i never watched the finale, so i didnt see the ending until just a few weeks ago--but back then, i thought it was neat. looking back on it however... im just so confused.

side note: only got back into aphmau this time around because of mcd. mainly because like, i adore the first season and the first half of the second season. and being nearly 18 now, im a lot more appreciative of plot and well-written characters n junk.

the actual thingy:

ok back on track. imma stop spilling out my story of how i got back into aphmau, and lets just skip to what rewatching mcd made me realize of season 6′s plot and shit:

-emmalyn. how the fuck does ghost even remotely exist? if she’s emmalyn as claimed, then why have we already seen emmalyn in the mystreet universe alive? look i get that creators can do whatever they want with their stories but at the same time please provide some sort of explanation good god. and maybe they did and i just havent seen it, so if there is one--let me know. but until that day imma just sit here confused as fuck

-ok so imma just be real, the whole ‘ultima’ thing is just... not great. in my opinion, anyways. like... i saw someone mention this in another post, but if this ultima stuff was like, a really big deal, why isnt it mentioned in mcd? though i suppose since its a curse of sorts, it could be later on past the time period in which mcd takes place--but even then, how did it manage to make its way into aaron’s family bloodline?

-WHY IS EVERYONE AT STARLIGHT ITS JUST SO CONVINIENT like what happened to this place being the most expensive shit on the planet or whatever, and how the gang happens to run into like, the werewolf trio and blaze and kai and guy and nate all of these people like god damn life doesnt WORK LIKE THAT

-im sorry but turning people into relics? thats... thats the best you could come up with? plus, like, how does that even work? in mcd it’s established that relics are separate entitles that choose their wielder, based on a ‘personal’ connection (being a descendent of a previous wielder) or if they’re a good match personality and (i think?) moral wise. so the whole turning-people-into-relics doesnt make much sense to be honest.

-irene really over here using her god powers to only keep her friends alive like god damn not a great god if you ask me

-can i talk about how incredibly predictable aphmaus death was? like i just kinda sat there waiting for it to happen and when it did i literally went “haha! wonder when she’ll be revived” because god forbid we actually kill off characters

-when aphmau + demon warlock fought in the irene dimension there was no passage of time whatsoever in the real world whiiiiiiiiich really bothers me because they fought in there for at least a few minutes

-speaking of aphmau and the demon warlocks fight does it bother anyone else that it had to be aaron who took over the fight?? like we get it hes the big protector blah blah blah but god damn it wouldve been cooler if aphmau had fought this battle as her. aaron fighting this battle was so underwhelming

-...love. like, thats the only thing thats needed to break out of a forever potion? love? LIKE YEAH, GOOD GUYS GOTTA WIN SOMEHOW, but its just so cliche and overdoneeee

-oh yeah and also when travis went bonkers and became the demon warlock or whatever, why’d he only take over katelyn and garroth?? like, zane had been influenced by the potions in the past as well? DONT GET ME WRONG--i do love some good brother edge, but uh, the demon warlock was just bein kinda a dumbass by not possessing zane too just sayin’

-can aaron please go to fucking jail for mass murder now like holy shit, he just got sent home on a fuckin boat. also why did blaze forgive him for killing him thats not even remotely realistic. then again, nothing in mystreet has ever been realistic when it comes to characters and motives and personalities, (cough katelyn being actually abusive and travis being an actual pervert) but yknow whatever

-katelyn and kawaii chan literally added nothing to the plot whatsoever. like lets be real, katelyn lost her personality the moment season 5 started and kawaii chan just kinda sits there :I

-ok im sorry this was bound to come up but cmon guys imagine laurances potential if he was in season 6 like god damn this is beyond maddening. AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A REALLY REALLY COOL PARRALLEL?? IF IT WAS LAURANCE WHO SNAPPED GARROTH OUT OF HIS MIND CONTROL THING, because it would mimic laurance’s speech to get garroth to snap out of his rage in season 1, episode 100 of minecraft diaries. like how fuckin rad would that have been? missed opportunity

-also?? why does kim/ghost know magicks?? like, if i remember correctly, emmalyn is a scholar--not someone who knew magicks. i mean, i guess research? study?? but its been established that knowing how magicks works =/= being able to use magicks. i dunno, just doesnt seem right i guess. maybe its explained, i wouldnt know (yes i know that makes me look like a dick leave me alone)

-melissa should have stayed dead. LIKE, NO, ITS NOT AS SIMPLE AS “haha it takes more than a few bullets to kill me”??? look ive got nothing wrong with melissa (cough lie cough) but yknow it would have just been cool a character... stay dead? for once? its just too fuckin cliche that shes alive god damn

-can i also just say the only good thing that came out of season 6 was travis’ dads sacrifice like damn that made me actually sad

-howww was lucinda turned into a relic. or yknow, anyone else? like im sure they explain it better in the actual show i just dont remember, but its just that easy? turning anyone into a relic? granted, a normal person wouldnt be able to produce a good relic, but idk man. IM JUST SAYING; that the only really powerful relics that aphmau should have been able to wield is the one that aaron + zane produced because shad relic and esmund relic moment. lucinda isnt even like, connected to a divine warrior. ALSO, another point, if its seriously that powerful of a relic getting one from just a magic user like lucinda, why go through the trouble? i mean i guess ofc youd want the “all powerful” one that the ultima produces but i mean damn whats the point

-ok this is just going to bother me but in one of the episodes (i think might have been in season 5 actually) where that like, guardian dude was chasing aphmau and zane and at one point they split up and the dude just chuckles at zane diverting paths and goes under his breath “youre not the important one here”, suggesting that aphmau somehow is? first of all, id argue that any ro’meave is significantly more important than aphmau was, especially not knowing much about her other than that shes with aaron. i might be missing some bits an pieces, but if i was that dude id forget about aphmau and go after zane

-killing off derek for shock factor sucked, and i know the moment was supposed to be really sad because like “oh :( aarons dad is sacrificing himself for his son” but lets be real dereks still was a shitty father and i dont think his reasons for doing what he did was very good at all

-less about plot or more like: why the absolute fuck did the gang bring kim along instead of, oh i dont know, a life-long friend? like, laurance or dante maybe?? im sure its explained, i never saw aphmaus year or most of season 5, but god DAMN id hate to be apart of this friend group AND GOD LIKE, imagine reconnecting with an old friend who ends up getting closer to your best friends and taking priority in their lives over you (cough laurance) like god damn lol

-im just going to preface this one with: i dont remember everything that’s happened, so if im wrong i apologize in advance--but (you actually can correct me if im wrong and please do) didnt like, irene reincarnate her friends in order to give them better lives? I DONT KNOW IF THIS IS TRUE, ITS JUST WHAT I REMEMBER--however, if im correct, then:

a. why the hell would she bring back someone like zane, or gene, or ivy, etc.

b. why the hell do they all have the same exact names? first and last? again, im aware that the whole mystreet+mcd tie wasn’t originally supposed to be there, but i dont think that means such a coincidence can be excused? its just a bit much if you ask me.

c. why the hell is the fact that (as much as i literally hate this) aaron is a decedent of shad being ignored? like, you’d think that something like this would be something thats actually important, or something the demon warlock couldve taken advantage of. or are we completely erasing every other connections to divine warriors besides aphmau + irene? because even if irene did reincarnate them or do whatever it is she did, does she even have the power to sever the connections between them and their ancestors? my guess is, no.

d. speaking of irene why on earth was aphmau able to talk to/see irene, they’re literally the same person are they not? did she like, fuckin reincarnate herself without actually doing it?? BUT--i will give it to them, the demon warlock did refer to aphmau as something along the lines of being “one of the 3 parts of her broken soul” or something like that. however, my point still remains. also what are the other two did i miss that or is it never explained

now; if irene in fact did not ‘reincarnate’ her friends then please ignore that little bit right there :)

but yes, those are a few of the problems i have with season 6 off the top of my head. i would go into like, season 4 and 5 more as well, but i honestly didnt feel like it. at some point i might go into other things, like how important laurance could have been to the plot of these later seasons, or HELL, even dante. i might also go into what could have made season 4, 5, and 6 actually good--maybe... a rewrite? perhaps? but im getting too far ahead of myself, so i just leave you with this for now.

and i know that as soon as i post this 15 more things are just going to pop into my head BUT im going to try and not edit this post because why stress myself with that even more

anyways thank you for coming to my tedtalk

#in conclusion i hate it here #lets go back to mystreet bein slice of life pls #anyways tune in next week for 'the hell is pdh??'#aphmau #mcd #mystreet #minecraft diaries #please ignore these next tags im just promoting relentlessly #garroth ro'meave #zane ro'meave #aaron lycan #kawaii chan #kim mystreet #laurance zvhal #pls i have no idea how to tag posts #rant

55 notes · View notes

m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Rantarou Amami x Ultimate Writer - FLUFF

Request: Hi! Your writing is incredible ^^ I was wondering if you could write Rantaro with an Ultimate Essay Writer s/o, maybe comforting them when they're up late writing? I hope that's okay, and thank you :D

Hey! Sure I can do this! But, I wanna make it just the Ultimate Writer. I’m an english writing major myself IRL, and I have to write essays, non-fiction, emails, resumes, letters, instructional guides, graphic novels, fiction, poetry etc. so they will definitely have essay-writing skills anyway. Ultimate Writer just makes it easier. I hope you don’t mind :) - Admin Kokichi

"Nnnn!" You gritted your teeth in frustration, "NNNGGHH!" Your arm was stretched to its extent, reaching up with all your might. The shelf above was just out of reach. Your fingertips scraped against the spine of the thick brown book above you, but strain as you might, it wasn’t budging, firm and snug against the others on the shelf. "Gah!" You puffed in anger, clenching your fists. Why did the books you wanted from the basement library always have to be so high up? You needed this particular text as a reference for your next piece.

It was going to be a throwaway letter, a confession written to express your feelings then set them free by burning it later. It didn’t matter, really, what you wrote at this point. Anything to get your mind off of all of… this. In this killing game, your writing was the only thing that brought you comfort. You stayed up every night scrawling until your wrist cramped up. Your Monopad had a notes section to type in, but you much rather stick to the traditional ways. The lack of sleep and endless output of creative thought was starting to weigh on you, and now it looked like you weren’t even getting this damn book today, “Man, this blows…” You sighed deeply. "AH!" You jumped, startled when a large, ring-clad hand suddenly appeared in front of your face, bracelets jangling in your ear. Soon, you felt someone's broad chest against your back. The hand grabbed the book you wanted and brought it down. You turned around with your hand on your chest, still a little jumpy. "Oh, phew… Rantarou, it's just you."

"Yeah,” he chuckled gently, “here ya go Y/N." There stood your crush, the rich playboy with a heart of gold. You felt your cheeks go warm. He was often in the library, and you relished every moment you got to spend glancing over your shoulder at him while we has up to his usual antics of planning traps or researching new ways to interrogate your classmates until someone was spooked into admitting their position as the mastermind. Once in a while, he would read for pleasure, and at first you felt like an asshole for being surprised by that. You judged him too early on, seeing a flawless face and a suave personality and assuming he would be the popular kid archetype you’d seen in many an awful young adult novel. The more you got to know him, the more he revealed himself to be highly intelligent, well-rounded, considerate, empathetic, and extremely attractive.

"Thanks, Rantarou," you looked down, placing the book under your arm.

"No problem… it's not everyday I get to do something useful for someone else here," he rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. You laughed too, looking him up and down.

“That’s not true!” you countered. “You’re always helping us all out. You give great advice, too!”

“Well, I try to help, but I’m sure it hasn’t escaped everyone’s notice that none of my plans have really... taken off,” he gestured, moving his hand in a soaring-upward motion. “Also, with me not rememberin’ my talent and all… I kinda have become the expendable background character, yeah?” His eyes crinkled closed with a kind smile.

He laughed again to fill the silence of the dark, empty library. You giggled. You always thought it was cute how could be so humble, looking the way he did, sounding the way he did. He had been that way ever since you’d met him, and are far as you were concerned, it seemed genuine. You couldn’t really trust anyone in this killing game, but you trusted Rantarou. Even in the library past midnight, where no one would know if you ended up dead, you trusted Rantarou.

"Sorry, I uh, I didn't mean to scare you," he leaned against the bookcase, arms crossed.

"Nah, it's fine. You helped me out, so I forgive you..." You joked, playfully punching his shoulder. He smiled a bit sheepishly, an expression you didn’t see often in the confident male.

"Yeah I… haha," He fiddled with a book nearby," I didn't think anyone would be here. I always come at night. Surprisingly, it's pretty boomin’ here during the day, so I come later on to avoid the hassle of a crowded space." You understood completely. Rantarou was always secretive about his plans.

“I know, I see you here sometimes,” you mused.

“Oh, really? I usually sit behind the back shelves, so I guess i didn’t notice you. You’re pretty quiet, huh? Maybe I should be watchin’ my back for you, huh?” He snickered

"I was having the same thought, isn't that weird?" He looked at you with alarm. “I’m kidding!” To that, he relaxed a bit. "So, watcha reading?"

"Oh, um," He gestured behind him to the aforementioned back shelf "I’m set up back there reading. It's just some old, boring, textbook information on one of the small countries I’ve visited. I thought it'd be interesting, but..."

"Yeah, sounds like it," You looked at him with genuine interest, and he smiled in appreciation.

"Wait, really?!"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be? I think it’s super cool that you’re well-traveled. I guess that’s why you and Korekiyo get along so well, huh?" His feet shuffled in silent excitement at your shared enthusiasm. He bit his lip playfully, and your eyes grew shiny in admiration. He was so adorable.

He noticed your change in expression and coughed, frowning a little in embarrassment. You tried to change the subject, to make him comfortable again.

"H-hey, Rantarou?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from the ground eagerly.

"You're gonna be up reading all night, right? Well.. I will be, too, and... it’s harder for someone to kill us with four eyes on the lookout..."

"Yeah?"

"So, you wanna maybe sit with me here at my table? The vents reach this side of the library better so it’s a bit warmer... haha, it's... it's kinda cold in here," You pulled your uniform’s turtleneck tighter around yourself, shaking a little. Rantarou immediately accepted. He wasn’t about to pass up an invitation from his crush.

“Hell yeah, sounds great! I’ll go grab my stuff, but, hey, I’ve noticed I hardly ever see you in the dorms… you know you gotta sleep, right?” He had a concerned look on his face, and your heart of course fluttered at his attention to detail and knowledge of your habits, but you didn’t want him worrying about you when he had his own safety to look out for.

“Well, I appreciate the concern, but I’d much rather spend time with you than be in my dorm alone worrying.” He seemed to blush at your words, and you thought you’d maybe gone too far, until he agreed, and rushed over to grab his reading material.

You sighed deeply, a yawn slipping out once or twice. At least two hours had passed since you and Rantarou set up your little corner and there he still sat, in the wooden chair across from yours, never looking up at you from his book. A peaceful, relaxed look glazed his face. He had been that way almost the whole time, but you could sense him becoming a bit antsy. Maybe he was just tired?

You were both fast readers, so by now you had already read the best sections of your own books and switched. He now sat reading the yellowed pages of the book you selected: an eclectic compilation of 16th century romance literature, and you were now five chapters into his text on the different ethnic groups of some far-off land.

“Hmm… heh,” he shook his head amusedly.

“What?” Your head shot up anxiously, fearing he was judging your choice of genre.

“It’s just... some of this is extremely cheesy and cliche. You’d think the old masters would have done a little better.” He lifted the book in a referencing gesture.

“Ah, yes, I noticed that as well. I was hoping for a little inspiration, but… it seems Monokuma isn’t the best curator of quality literature.” He nodded in agreement, seemingly stuck on a thought. You could see him stare into space for a second before continuing.

“Inspiration for what… may I ask?” He pressed, waiting with bated breath for your reply. You felt your feathers start to ruffle, the borders of your comfort zone being invaded by the enemy. You didn’t know if you should answer honestly. The letter was a throwaway for a reason…

“I was going to write a letter…” it slipped out, and you quickly regretted it. Apparently, your brain had decided to take the lead for you. You never recalled yourself being so forward or brave.

“Why do you need sonnets and romance novels to write a letter? Planning to sweet talk Monokuma into freeing us?” He chuckled somewhat teasingly, but his haughty words slowly faded to silence upon noticing the wet shine in your nervous eyes, the way your fingers played with the corner of the book as a distraction for your discomfort.

“No…” You coughed, clearing your throat. Rantarou looked away, running a hand through his green shaggy locks. He knew what the letter was for, of course, who it was for. He was a bit nervous, too, eager to play off the tension in the room with humor, but it wasn’t working. He was wondering why you were so apprehensive, so sullen at his inquiry. You two flirted almost every day… did you seriously need to worry about his reaction? Did you think he didn’t like you back? “I-It’s… well it was going to be a um… a confession of sorts… just to get my feelings down on paper and off my chest. Then I was gonna burn it afterward to set those feelings free!” You smiled weakly, betraying your lack of confidence.

“Nah, you should give it to him- them!” He corrected himself, dropping the most obvious hint he could. You still didn’t look convinced, a bit oblivious.

“Y-you think so?”

“For sure, no doubt. Whoever that letter is meant for,” he leaned in to you, clasping his calloused hands around yours. You felt your heart skip a beat at the contact, and you were left speechless, fearing any words spoken now would come out as idiotic babbling, “they are gonna love it. Trust me.” His eyebrows rose with emphasis, and he shot you one of his iconic, heart-melting smiles.

140 notes · View notes

maybebanks · 4 years

Text

You Know I’m a Minor Chapter 04

jj maybank x reader

Start at PART 1

You crept inside your battered home, the floor creaking quietly at your feet.

You bit your lip. These damn floorboards.

Your throat felt dry, maybe you are just dehydrated.

Immediately, you approached the kitchen and took out a glass, then filled it with water.

But before you could take a sip, you felt a pair of rough calloused hands wrap around your neck.

—

“What’s got you down, Y/n?” Kie asks. So far this had started out an amazing summer, you were never bored with the pogues.

“I just..need a job,” you explain what you were thinking about, these days it was getting harder to even put food in your stomach.

“Don’t you already have a job?” Pope questions.

“Yeah, but I need another. I have a little extra time and I can work on weekends,”

“Weekends? But when will you have time for us?” Kie asks, worried.

“Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kie,” JJ adds, Kie didn’t take offense to it, but he wasn’t wrong.

“You can mow lawns in figure Eight with me,” JJ offers.

“Help deliver groceries?” Pope adds.

“We always need an extra hand at the Wreck, I can ask my dad if he’ll hire you,”

You smile and nod excitedly at Kie’s offer, “Yes! that would be amazing Kie,”

JJ pouts, “Are ya sure? You’d be missing out on a great view,” JJ jokes, gesturing to himself and his six pack.

“No offense JJ,” you roll your eyes, “I’m allergic to grass,”

“Allergic to grass? Huh?” JJ asks dumbfoundedly.

Everyone’s laughs mix together at the look on JJs face. JJ dips his fingers in his beer and flicks it on to you.

“Ah! You’re getting beer in my hair?!”

“Are you allergic to beer too?”

—

Finally back at John B’s place, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky with beautiful arrays of orange and pink.

You were all inside today, it was slightly raining and the mosquitos were raging outside.

John B had his arm around you on the couch, and JJ, Kie and Pope were sitting across from you on the floor and on some shitty deck chair on the porch.

JJ began smoking, bringing you back to the first time you got close with JJ. Too close?

You twiddled you’re thumbs in your lap and played with your fingers, the silence made you nervous. You didn’t want to smoke, it just made nerves worse.

“JJ!” Pope scolded when JJ blew smoke directly into his face.

“Oh sorry Pope? You want a hit of this?” JJ smirked hazily and sarcastically.

You laughed, Pope was frustrated, but he let it slide when he saw your smile.

“So none of you want a hit of this?” JJ repeated, Kie took it from his fingers and took a long hit, not coughing once.

JJ scanned the rest of us, when no one responded he groaned, “didn’t realize I rolled with a bunch of nerds,”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your shoulders visibly tensed, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Stop overreacting.

John B rubs your shoulder comfortingly, taking notice of your behavior.

John B glanced at JJ and gave him a scolding look, in which JJ pushes his hands up in defense.

“Want some Y/n?”

“I think she’ll pass,” John B says, causing JJ to look down in defeat.

“Sorry, I’m..I just don’t want to smoke,”

“It’s okay, Y/n, I don’t mind,” JJ smiled, flipped his lighter on and off.

As the night went on, the pogues got drunk on beers and high on laughs and good conversation. John B was basically falling over, he turn over and his head landed on your lap.

“John B, you are so drunk right now,” you told him.

“You’re so pretty Y/n,” he slurred.

“Um, I-thanks,” you mutter, not believing he is being genuine, just drunk.

“I wish you didn’t have a boyfriend already, that stinks,” John B says again, causing the rest of the group to silence.

“Uh what?” JJ says in shock.

“No- I don’t! What are you talking about John B? You’re just drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying,” you conclude.

John B, lying down, raises his hand up to your face, then puts his finger on your neck and pokes at it a few times.

Instantly, you slap his hand away. Before you can ask what the hell he is doing, he mumbles.

“Hickies.”

Your mouth went dry, you knew the marks he was pointing at were not hickies. But you couldn’t exactly tell the truth.

You gently push his head off of your lap and get up, leaving the couch. A few of them ask where you are going, you just mutter some excuse and head inside.

You open the door to a random room and hop inside. Collapsing on the unmade bed.

—

“You really love that bed don’t ya,” a light-hearted voice rips you from your sleep, the voice was slightly groggy and scratchy, you hated to admit it but his morning voice was kinda attractive.

JJ tapped your bare shoulder, you were laying on your stomach, waving him off and wishing to fall back asleep.

“Y/n,” JJ repeated softly.

You instantly remembered you had removed your shirt becuase it was too hot last night. To react, you pull the covers over your face, hiding from JJ.

This resulted in a laugh, “Get up babe,” JJ encouraged tugging at the covers.

“Stop! JJ I’m practically naked!” You continue to cover yourself in embarrassment.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen-“

“JJ! Close your eyes!” You demanded.

JJ listened to your order, smirking to himself at the small glimpse he got of your white lace bra at your chest.

Fortunately, he didn’t notice anything else, no injuries or imperfections.

When you peek over the covers, JJ is holding out a shirt for you. The same Pelican Marina t-shirt.

You grab it and throw it on, before you could get up though, JJ puts his hand on your thigh. Holding you back.

Feeling violated, your expression changed. Anxious.

Seeing this JJ, quickly removes it. He was only trying to ease the tension for what he was about to say.

“Uh..can we talk?” Was all he could muster.

“About what?” You sighed, quickly thinking he was going to ask about the smoking dilemma.

“Last night-“

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt, “I shouldn’t have been so weird, I just, I didn’t want to get high, and I didn’t want to say or do something I’d regret,”

JJ chuckles, “that’s okay Y/n, I don’t care if you don’t want to smoke, I actually wanted to talk about what John B said, about your boyfriend and stuff.”

You tensed.

Then got up from the bed, moving towards the door.

“Who-I mean...is he right? Why don’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, John B was just drunk. Honest.”

“But he said..” JJ paused, stepping closer as his eyes trailed down your face, stopping at your neck, “who gave you those?”

You moved your hand over the bruises.

You scoffed, clearly trying to deflect, “I just burned myself. But seriously it doesn’t matter. Can you stop interrogating me?”

“Yeah. Okay sure,” JJ said disappointedly.

—

JJ slipped on his board. Falling into the ocean near you. You were sitting on your board, one leg on either side.

He splashed water in your eyes.

“JJ!” You screamed.

You had to admit he was an amazing surfer. But you thought his wipeouts were even better.

After he came up he smiled a goofy smile, causing a laugh to erupt from your mouth.

“Dope wipeout,” you complimented.

“Yeah, you just ate shit!” Kie shouts from a little farther away.

“Ohh you wanna see a wipeout?!” JJ shouted competitively.

You furrowed you’re brows in confusion, but suddenly you understood when JJs hands gipped your board and flipped you over.

“Hey!” You screamed before being succomed into the cold.

JJs arms wrapped around your torso and he pulled you up into his chest.

He brought you face close to him, you wrapped your legs around his waist and he just held you there, treading water.

“That was mean,” you pouted.

“What’s mean is you treating my t-shirt like a second skin! I’ve never seen you take it off, we’re surfing for god sakes!”

You rolled your eyed and pushed JJs firm chest farther away, his grip left your waist, then returned to your board.

—

If he could see you now.

He would tell you to stop acting like a whore. For getting closer to JJ day by day, for letting him hold you. He would tell you to drop these new friends, who lifted your spirits, and settle for being alone.

What are you? Some kind of rebel?

Normally you would feel anxious, but the feeling of freedom made you forget about your troubles. For now.

You ran up to John B and jumped on his back for a piggy back ride. Taken off guard. He stumbled and landed in the sand, you following down and landing on your side.

“Ow! Y/n why did you do that?” John B laughed.

Kie helped him up and Pope helped you up. You mentally scolded yourself when you realized the temporary pain from the impact of falling decided to stay a while.

Determined, you decided to stand up on your own, obviously showing balance problems.

“How can you surf when you walk like that?” JJ commented, his hands met your waist to steady you. It’s cliche to say, but after you brushed his hands away, his touch lingered.

“I’m...fine,” you said, breathing heavily like you just sprinted.

Instead of his usual laugh, he cocked his head in concern. But luckily, Kie changed the conversation shortly after.

“Do you guys think we should crash the Kook party tonight?” She asked, excitedly.

You bit your lip, hard. The scene of your nightmares was a kook party. Last time you were at one, things turned out horribly.

You coughed when JJ took notice, he always seemed to notice the little things.

“JJ what do you think?” Pope asked.

JJ didn’t want to hover over you, every time he asks if you are okay, you just shut him down, making him feel stupid for being concerned.

“I’m cool with it. As long as John B doesn’t hold me back if I try and punch Topper,”

John B scolds JJ for always being so reckless, and Pope tells him not to be stupid.

Finally the van is in sight.

But there was something on your mind that you wanted to confront JJ.

You grab his forearm gently, and tug him back a little, not really wanting the pogues to hear.

“Um JJ?”

“What’s up Y/n?” he asks, smiling a usual JJ smile.

“I know you are... protective over-“ you stopped yourself, not wanting to assume he’d consider you a friend, “and I just, I don’t want you to get hurt,” you admit.

JJ chuckles, “No need to worry about me,” he puts his hand on your shoulder.

You punch his arm gently, just joking around.

“If anyone knows how to throw a punch...” he gestures, and slowly brings his fist up, mimicking a punch, his fist accelerates towards your face but slows down at the last minute.

“JJ I was just kidding!” you exclaim as your hands reach and protect your face.

“Relax Y/n. What? You thought I would hit you? For real?” JJ asked, his tone seemed offended, but also pitiful.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. God damn,” he mumbles.

“What-um...what I meant before was just, can you just hold off, and not get into any fights? Please,”

He nods, “promise,”

—

Get a grip! Stop being such a shy little bitch who stutters her words and wants to cry at every mention of life’s bullshit. Stop acting like the world is on your shoulders. Because it’s not.

“Whatcha thinking about?” JJ asks, talking a sip out of a red solo cup.

“Nothing,” you reply, eyeing the liquid in his cup.

He smirks, “wanna sip?”

“Fuck it,”

—

Chapter 05

I really am struggling and have no idea where this is going! I’m tryna do a slow burn but it is harder than I thought!! I’m so sorry this is bad please bare with me, part 5 will be better!

Taglist: @p0gue420 @kristinaxilliano @belledutchess @maebanks @omgpankow @kaylinfayezink @dolanfivsosxox @thesurfingsnail @obsessedweirdo @dudebroskiprn @milked-down-coffee

#jj maybank #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #outer banks #jj imagine jjxreader obx #obx jj #obx jj maybank x you #outerbanks #jj outer banks #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank abuse #abuse jj obx #jj maybank x female reader

148 notes · View notes

danganronpa-imagines-and-doodles · 4 years

Text

Snow Days

Second of the three old fics to be posted. Again, this is very old so it’s not up to par with my current writing.

- Mod Kaede

Kazuichi Souda x Gender Neutral Reader

Fluff; 1834 words; ao3 link

Clouds filled the sky while snow danced down to be greeted by its brethren on the ground and icicles draped the siding of houses, ready to strike. The air was cold as you left a trail of breath behind you while you walked.

In short, it was freezing.

But why were you outside in such a terrible cold?

Simple.

Because a certain mechanic had asked you to go sledding with him.

You see, Kazuichi wanted to test out a new sled he had designed, and based on the sketches he had shown you, you just hoped this didn’t end up like the whole wagon incident last year.

While lost in your thoughts, you heard a shout from atop the hill you were approaching.

You chuckled slightly when you saw Kazuichi gently sucking on his finger, obviously having just hit it with something.

“You do realize that you sucking on it isn’t going to do anything?”

He jumped a bit at the sudden voice. Pouting he turned on his heel, finger still in his mouth and quickly retorted.

“I knew that! It’s just instinct to suck on it, y’know?”

You chuckled again and nodded.

“I guess so, yeah.”

Turning back to his work, he continued working on the sled in front of him.

You surveyed the sled, walking all around it, taking it all in.

“Kazuichi, are you sure this safe?”

The pink haired boy gave a grin and nodded. “Duh! It’s totally safe, I mean, I made it!”

“That’s what I’m worried about…” You grumbled softly.

Snowflakes began to pile up on the boys black beanie while he worked on the finishing touches on his high tech sled he had made over the past week. As much as you adored him, that thing did not look safe.

“C’mon! This baby is just about ready.” He cheered.

You puffed out your cheeks and glanced at the mechanic again.

“You’re positive that it’s safe?”

He nodded eagerly.

You sighed and gingerly sat yourself in the sled. It was cold, even against the fabric of your pants.

Kazuichi coughed and stared at you.

“What?”

“That’s where I sit.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Why? Aren’t they both pretty much the same?”

His face turned a bit pinker than it already was from the cold.

“Th-That’s just where I sit, okay…”

You rolled your eyes and scooched up to the front of the sled.

He then plopped himself into the back seat.

With a bit of fumbling, you both were situated in a comfortable position.

That position being you sitting between Kazuichi’s legs.

Something tells you that this was planned…

“Ready?”

Gosh, the hill looked a lot bigger than when you first climbed it…

You gulped and affirmed that you’re ready for whatever injuries will come of this.

It took a second for the sled to get moving, having been resting in the same spot for so long, but it slowly slides into place.

“Countdown?”

You nodded.

“Three”

You shifted slightly and looked on nervously at the bottom of the hill.

“Two”

You know, it looked more like a mountain at this point.

“One”

You suddenly grasped Kazuichi’s hand tightly.

“Z-zero!”

And with that, you're zooming down the hill at speeds you’ve never sledded at before. The cold nipped at your skin while your eyes watered from the wind.

But somehow, you didn’t really notice that.

What you did notice was the tight grasp around your waist, the head burried in your neck and the vibrations of screams muffled into said neck.

You were cold and so unbelievably warm at the same time.

Time seemed to slow down, as cliche as that sounds, but not for the reason you’re thinking.

This was the longest sled ride you’ve ever been on!

Wait.

You looked up and notice you’ve stopped. Apparently you were too caught up on how close to Kazuichi you were.

Even though you had stopped, he still held a firm grip on you, hot breath ghosting over the slightly exposed skin of your neck.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you gently poked at him, trying to get his attention.

“H-hey, we stopped. And we’re not dead, so that’s good, yeah?”

He shifted his head to look at you.

He looked positively green!

“Oh gosh! Are you okay?! What’s wrong?”

He slowly lifted a hand to your mouth and shushed you.

“J-just give me a sec… I’ll be okay…”

A few minutes passed in silence as he composed himself. It was really peaceful actually. A bit awkward as he was still grasping onto you tightly. But pleasant regardless.

A gulp of air pulled you back from space and he lifted his head.

“I think I’m okay now…”

“What was that?”

Completely dodging your question, he stood up.

“Hey isn’t there a nice coffee shop near here? I heard they got some wicked hot chocolate!”

You sighed. Knowing him, he’d just keep dodging the question and that was a fuss you didn’t want to go through.

“C’mon let’s go to it! It can’t be more than a ten minute walk to there.”

“What about the sled? We can’t just leave it here!”

He stopped in his tracks and thought for a moment.

“Oh! That’s right, I almost forgot, I made this thing collapsable!”

He approached the sled and quickly folded it into a box the size of a suitcase.

“How the hell did you even manage that?”

He just grinned and kept walking.

“Hey!”

You huffed as you caught up with him.

“I thought you were a mechanic, not a speed demon.”

He laughed. A pleasant sound that made you smile.

“Anyhow, how far did you say this place was?”

“Like ten minutes away.”

You nodded and continued on with your walk.

It was silent for a few minutes. The only sound was the crunch of both of your feet against the snow and the occasional wind.

As calm and peaceful as it was, it just didn’t feel right.

You tried breaking the silence, but found you couldn’t think of anything to say. When you went to speak, your mouth just opened and nothing came out.

You closed your mouth and thought for a moment.

While thinking, your eyes drifted to Kazuichi’s hand.

Your cheeks warmed at the thought of your bold movement when you two were on the sled together.

Without warning, your mouth opened and words began to spill out.

“H-hey, Kazuichi…”

He turned his head to you.

“Hm? What’s up?”

Shoot.

Well, there’s no turning back now.

They say actions are louder than words, right?

Shyly you grasped his hand in yours. It was a bit bigger than yours and slightly callused, but it fit snuggly.

He blinked.

Slowly he processed what was going on and stopped walking.

“Wha-what? Are you okay?”

“Um, my hands were kinda cold.”

He stared at you, clearly flustered. It was cute, really.

“Ah, um, okay.”

After another few minutes in silence, you finally reached the cafe. It was a small shop, but it felt warm and cozy once inside. Fairy lights draped the wood walls and the smell of fresh coffee and muffins filled the air. The soft radio was playing in the background as you and Kazuichi sat down across from each other in a booth.

You gently shook your head, getting all the snow off of you and unwound your scarf. You were in the middle of unzipping your coat when Kazuichi spoke up.

“So, what do you want?”

“Ah, well, didn’t you say the hot chocolate here was really good? I’ll probably get that. Maybe a muffin or a scone too. I’ll see when I get up there.”

He shook his head.

“You're not going anywhere, I’ll go up there and pay, it’s my treat.”

You smiled at him.

“You don’t need to do that! Besides, I wanna see what they got here.”

“Fine, but I’m still gonna pay.”

“At least let me buy my drink.”

He pouted, but nodded.

Once ordering, you both sat back down to wait.

You hastily unwrapped your muffin, tore off a chunk and popped it in your mouth.

You sighed in delight at the flavour of it. You would definitely be coming back here.

“Kazuichi, you have to try this! It’s so good!”

You broke off some of the muffin and held it up to his mouth.

“Say, ‘Ahh!’”

Kazuichi glanced at the muffin chunk between your fingers and gave you a confused look.

“What are you doing?”

You cocked your head at his words.

“What does it look like?”

He blinked.

“It looks like you’re trying to feed me…”

“Ding, ding, ding! Now eat up!”

Kazuichi flushed, but kept his lips firmly closed.

You bumped his mouth with the cupcake imposter, trying to get him to open up.

“C’mon Kazuichi! Mr. Muffin clearly wants to be eaten~”

“I don’t want to eat it when you're feeding it to me!”

“Please?”

He looked at the muffin hesitantly, and slowly opened his mouth.

You smiled wide and fed the sweet bread to him.

He chewed reluctantly, but eventually gave in to the sweetness and began to visibly enjoy it.

You grinned happily at his reaction.

“See! It’s good, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so...”

“Now gimmie some of your donut!”

“What, why?!”

“Tsk, tsk. You know the rules Kazuichi, I gave some of mine, now you have to give me some of yours!”

“I never asked to have any of your muffin!”

“So? I want some of your donut, it looks really good!”

“Nuh uh, it‘s mine!”

You leaned over the table and tried to snatch the pastry away from the plate that it laid on.

Kazuichi was a bit too fast for you and he quickly picked it up and put it high in the air.

Defiant to giving up, you once more reached your hand towards the baked treat.

“C’mon Kazuichi! Just a bite!”

Kazuichi, seemingly with a change of heart lowered his hand.

“Fine, only after I have a bite.”

You smiled and leaned back into your section of the booth.

And as an act of spite, he shoved the entire donut into his mouth.

“Hey! That’s not a bite!”

Kazuichi just grinned, his mouth still full of donut.

You rolled your eyes at his actions and slowly sipped at your hot chocolate.

It warmed your throat and you sighed at the calming ability it had.

“This is nice, huh?”

He took a moment to swallow the pastry and replied.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool here.”

You two sat in silence for a while, sipping at your drinks every once and awhile.

Eventually both drinks were emptied and stomachs were filled so you two left the quaint coffee shop.

As you walked aimlessly you glanced back down at Kazuichi’s hand.

Less nervous this time, you grasped it into yours.

“Hey Kazuichi?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for today, I had fun.”

He nodded and lightly squeezed your hand.

Silence filled the air and snow fell from the clouds above.

The world was peaceful.

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #Kazuichi Souda #kazuichi souda x reader #sdr2 #x reader #mod kaede

70 notes · View notes

mochikeiji · 4 years

Text

What can be done on 3 AM // Kuroo x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Having a place all to yourself wasn't always a bad thing. Sure you miss having the nagging from your parents sometimes, but you somehow felt at peace having the place all to yourself, and just go wild and free. But you didn't mind sharing your apartment with your long term boyfriend, Kuroo. Finally graduating from Nekoma, the both of you decided to go grab an apartment that was near the same university the two of you were enrolled to. It was those cliche College dorm life, having a boyfriend, be all lovey dovey, have countless of cuddle sessions (possibly even sex thanks to Kuroo being horny) and acting all like an old married couple.

Yours and Kuroo's was slightly far from that.

"Babe, babe, babe." He chants his large hand shaking your shoulders gently, "Mm what?" not giving him a look, he just sighs, playing his chin on the side of your neck having your back still against him.

"I'm hungry."

"And I'm (Y/n)."

He groans at your response, listening to you give out a sleepy laugh. "It's 3 in the morning, Kuroo." sliding open your phone, finally changing your position to look at him. "Hunger has no time. It hits randomly, and I am in need of food." he places a hand on his stomach, scrunching his face in a dramatically painful way as his stomach growls into the silence. "I'm gonna dieee." He whines into the oblivion, you just watch in amusement, snickering behind your hand. "Do you find it funny to watch your handsome boyfriend die because of hunger? I am hurt, Ms. (L/n)." clutching his chest for effect, feeling the bed squeak as you got up, sliding in your fuzzy slippers as you made your way to the bathroom to freshen up a little.

"And now you're going to leave? Such cruelty, babe." he thumps his head on his pillow, not seeing you grab his old highschool volleyball jacket, and tying your hair into a messy bun, "I thought we were going to get some food, but I guess I'll go on my own then." grinning eat to ear when the bed squeaked loudly followed by his tripping steps as he makes his way to you, "You're serious?" his eyes sparkling as if he achieved on getting you on board with him.

"I'm kinda starving too actually."

"Say no more, baby."

He snatches his spare hoodie from a chair, pushing ins his arms while you held the key to your apartment door with your wallet and phone on your hands. He grabs your other unoccupied hand, marveling on how small it is compared to his callused ones before opening the door, meeting with the cold wind of the early mornings greeting.

"Let's go."

Shutting the door behind you, the two of you walked almost in a hurry. Well mostly Kuroo, he wasn't joking about the part of craving so much. It was a good thing that you and him were near at a convenient store down the block of your apartment. More amazing is that it was a semestral break meaning you didn't have to worry about over working your brain again and just do whatever you want for the mean time.

Hearing the bright tones as the doors opened automatically, you took in that scent only convenient stores can attain. Weird right? But at the same time, satisfying. The person behind the cashier seemed to be tired, and confuse on why two knuckleheads decided to make him work at this time of the day. You gave the guy a sweet smile to let him know you mean no harm in which he took quite well (because he could care less at the moment due to his lack of rest) and gestures for the two of you to carry on.

You spot Kuroo already at the aisle of junk food, his basket almost already full of those junk that'll surely get you fat. But also happy because he picked out your favorites.

"Sure got a lot there, Tetsu." walking up to his side, just scanning the rows of unorganized various of chips, "Its also for emergencies when you get your monthly period again." You gave him a firm smack on the arm making him just smile lazily, finally grabbing his last choice of food before heading over the stored drinks. You followed him, picking out your favorite drink alongside with him before shutting the clear refrigerator closed. Placing the bottles of drink in his basket.

"Wanna go pick out some dessert for last?"

Almost in a flash you were on the cooler, picking out your favorite flavor of ice cream ignoring Kuroo's laughter which s muffled because he didn't want to annoy the guy that was groaning at the counter.

"Fast as lightning indeed when it comes to ice cream." placing the basket on top of the counter. He grabs the bags of junk food and displayed it on the cold tiled table, hearing each ding of it, waiting for the price. "Hey, you picked out last time. It was not good." You placed the ice cream down last, fishing out your wallet from the pockets of his jacket, "Excuse you, Ms. Uncultured, but pistachio happens to be good." You rolled your eyes with a bill on your hand, Kuroo did the same since he didn't want you to pay all by yourself. Handing them over the the cashier, he coughs, "You two in college?" You and Kuroo shared a look before nodding at him, "Hm, reminds me of when me and ex used to do this." he grabs a paper bag from below, stuffing in the food neatly, "Take care of your girl man. I didn't do good back in the days, and now here I am."

Kuroo grabs two of the paper bags leaving you stuck with one which was only the tub of ice cream. "Thank you for your kindness, sir. I hope you have a good life ahead! And I know you will!" You bowed kindly, Kuroo just sweats, not knowing what to say, "U-uh, yeah man. Don't get life get you down too much."

Walking back from your little journey back to your apartment, you settled all the food down at your little table, Kuroo just picking out a movie from his laptop on the couch while you placed the ice cream on your fridge. Grabbing two bags of chips, and drinks you wiggled your way to his side of the blanket, covering the both of you as the movie he picked out played from the screen.

"You know."

Taking a bite out of the chips, you gave him a hum in response. "You know that I wouldn't be an asshole to you, right?" You see his eyes twitch behind his hair shyly, "Like, I know I'm a handful like now and sometimes, but you know I'd give you anything, right (Y/n)?" smiling softly, you leaned your head against his shoulder, pulling his arm up to wrap them around you.

"You're far from that guy back there, Tetsu. Don't over think too much. I've known you since we were in highschool." tilting your head up a little to meet his cat like eyes, "And I love moments like these when you get all hungry or childish. It's one thing I'd like to cherish while we're still young." he gives you a peck on the forehead, holding you properly.

"You don't mind if this childish boyfriend of yours wants to try and go out again tomorrow, and try sneaking in the campus for ghost hunting now, would you?" you laughed shortly at his suggestion, giving him a soft smooch on his lips before grabbing another bite of chips, eyes going back to the movie.

"We can do a quickie in one of the classrooms too."

"And let ghosts see the two of us mate in our school at 3 am? Why not, babe."

93 notes · View notes

goatbi · 4 years

Note

Well i take -3 convincing for anything w trans gordon GIMMIE BENREY SEEING HIM SHIRTLESS FOR THE FIRST TIME

Now, to be fair to Benrey, he had been cautious this entire time.

They were all trans in one way or another-Bubby claimed it was to make them more powerful-and Benrey didn’t want to stumble in like a bad fanfiction, even if he already knew, cause that’s rude, and also cliche as shit, not to mention he had no clue Gordon’s dysphoria levels-they all have varying levels, Bubby felt perfect as always, but Tommy had always been a bit sensitive about his chest, it depended.

So maybe he hadn’t seen Gordon shirtless. It’s fine. He didn’t need to, he didn’t care that much. Gordon just... always had a shirt on. Sure, sometimes it was a tank top and it took Benrey a second to pretend he wasn’t staring at his boyfriend’s biceps, but that’s okay, he’s allowed to be a little bit gay.

But, back to the point. Benrey didn’t have any chances to see Gordon shirtless and he didn’t try to make any. Simple as that.

Benrey deserves the right to be a little bit worried about his boyfriend, however, when, an hour passes from his normal wake up time, and Gordon doesn’t leave his room. Nothing. Gordon is usually so punctual about everything, and the fact that he’s still in there worries Benrey just a bit.

So, he does what any food significant other does, and gets up to check on him. When he knocks on the door, though, he hears Gordon hum, then yell out. “Come in Benrey!”

So he does. He pushes the door open-

And Gordon’s standing in the middle of his room, shirts laid out on the bed and dresser, as he feels the fabric of each one, frowning slightly. Benrey blinks a few times, realizing that Gordon’s got a sports bra on, and turns his head slightly, ignoring how his face heats up.

“What’s up?” Gordon doesn’t look up at him, and Benrey takes that moment to compose himself, coughing into his fist.

“Uh, just, just... check in. Didn’t see you come out of your den...” Gordon pauses, then looks over at him, frowning.

“You alright?” Benrey hums, looking around the room, trying to focus on anything else but Gordon. Gordon was... strong, to put it simply. Benrey was going to die, if he looked too long, he was one hundred percent convinced of that.

Because of this, he doesn’t notice Gordon watching him, before grinning.

“Anything you’ve got to say, hun?” Benrey flushed darker, shooting a glare towards Gordon. ‘Hun’ was a low blow in this household, used very rarely, because when Gordon did say it, Benrey usually ended up curled in a ball blowing pink everywhere like a faucet.

“Just, uh... looking... pretty epic vibes there, bro, uh... pog... poggers.” Benrey covered his mouth, manually stopping the sweet voice from bubbling out. Gordon laughed softly, leaning against the table.

“Babe... just say you’re gay.”

“I��m so gay for you.” Benrey looked up, pink obscuring his vision for a moment. When the sweet voice bubbled away, he saw Gordon grinning at him.

“You know, I was kinda worried about it, cause like, I have been trying to find a shirt that didn’t kill my senses today, but y’know? I don’t think I need one.” Benrey blinked at him, then turned, walking away to Gordon laughing.

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #gordon freeman hlvrai #benrey #hey yea it's just our convo but like... gayer cause they live together

37 notes · View notes

kickingitwithkirk · 5 years

Text

She’s My Whip

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2250

Warnings: oral (m & f giving/receiving) sex, squirting, cursing, pornish language and other adulting things that make it 18+only

A/N: A-Z Kink Challenge: Younger/Older Written for @covered-byroses #cbrkinkchallange Thank you Ms.Kelly for letting me participate in my first writing challenge

A/N: this is my first work (outside a drabble) I’ve ever let anyone read. I quit writing over a decade ago so I’m rusty as hell but working on getting my mojo back. Creative criticism welcome

A/N II: 3/21/21 I did some rewriting on this piece I love so much, fixing the things that’s nagged at me since original release.

* no beta , all mistakes are mine

*GIF not mine

“...So that’s when I knew I had closed the deal.” The guy next to me at the bar Greg, or Gary, who'd been droning on about this deal for the last twenty minutes looked at me waiting for a response.

“That’s fantastic, congratulations on closing the deal.” You responded enthusiastically, faking it like an orgasm during bad sex.

Sipping on the glass of wine he ordered, trying not to grimace at the taste and wondering for the umpteenth time what is it with men your age? Why did they feel entitled to decide what to order you without asking?

Now in your early forties you prefer men like your alcohol, on the younger side with an adventurous edge.

Tuning out ummm, David as he continues to prattle on about his whatever. He seems like a nice guy, kinda reminds you of that character from Pleseantville, the husband who kept saying where’s my dinner.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but I need to speak to Ms. Y/L/N.” You both turn to see who is addressing you.

Fuck me, he’s here.

He and his partner, Agent Dean Smith, showed up your workplace this morning about the weird event in HR department. They had every red blooded woman, and a few of the guys, drooling in their lattes.

After your interview with Agent Smith, who’d been flirting with everyone female with a pulse during their interviews, he asked you for drinks and whatever.

It had been extremely tempting, he was ridiculously good looking with those succulent full lips, green eyes, bowed just enough for you to fit perfectly between legs and cinnamon freckles that made you wonder if he’s covered everywhere in them.

You hated to admit it’s been to damn long since any man has giving you such a through fucking, you know, the type that makes your legs shake uncontrollably when you cum and walk funny for days.

You had reluctantly..very reluctantly.. turned him down. The reason being the man standing behind you.

“And who might you be?” Ralph maybe, asks rudely.

Agent Samuel Wesson flashes his FBI credentials at possibly John before turning to addresses you. He’s delicious, literally walking sex with those long, long legs.

“Ms. Y/L/N, could we go somewhere more private? I have some questions that need clarification.” Unable to answer because your brain has migrated to your pussy that’s dripping wet from the sound of his deep, whiskey-honey voice alone.

Crossing your legs you clenched your thighs together trying to cover your down south problem but he tracks your movement with those indelible, fox slanted eyes and smirks.

Shit.

“Look, I don't care if your President...” Steve, IDK, says standing up to get in his face but falls short, literally, by several inches.

Biting on the inside of your cheek to stop bursting out in laughter you take a sip of the horrid wine to compose yourself because there is absolutely no way in hell your going to pass up on the opportunity to make time with this gorgeous mountain of a man who’s literally made you cum without even touching you.

Standing up you insert yourself between them and play with Donny’s tie. “I’m so sorry, we were having such a good time, and I was thinking of asking you back to mine, but I’d feel awful if I know something and didn't help, please don't be mad at me.” You pout a bit, pretending to actually sound sorry, all the while internally cringing at the fucking drivel spewing out of your mouth to mollify whatchamacallit.

If anyone had asked you how you thought this night would have ended, never in a million would you have said that you’d be reclining on the hood of a ‘67 Impala in an empty field splitting a bottle of Knob Creek Whiskey with Samual Wesson, IE Sam Winchester, discussing everything from politics to debating if GOT’s ending was screwed up while stargazing.

Sam takes a long pull off the bottle before handing it back, “Why did you turn Dean down?” He inquires.

“I’ve been around long enough to know a player when I see one,” you take a long pull from the bottle, “and I’ve reached an age where I don’t and won’t be played.” You answer honestly handing the bottle to Sam.

He’s taking a drink when you cheekily add, “Besides, he’s too old for me.”

Coughing from the whiskey going down the wrong way Sam finally croaks out, “To old? He’s three years younger than you.” You raise an eyebrow at that.

“You know how old I am?”

Sam starts peeling off the bottles label, “Yeah, I do. I checked out everyone who had any connection to the victim. I didn’t think you’d be interested, Dean’s well...Dean. Women are always attracted to him but then he said you turned him down and....”

“...you followed me to that bar hoping to get lucky?” It’s hard to see under the moonlight but you know he’s blushing, “I’ll admit it was sorely tempting but I turned Dean down because you're more my type.” Sam looked up in surprise.

You shift towards him reaching for the bottle, “Look, I like younger men, it's my thing and I find I have more in common with them. Nobody thinks twice about some old fart fucking a twenty something, but if an older woman is sexually adventurous, oh my god everyone goes spar! Lots of younger men today prefer being with someone who’s life doesn’t revolve around kids, can hold an intellectual conversation and isn’t looking to put a ring on it.

I came across this British blogger in her fifties dating men in their twenties and they were the ones doing the chasing. She came up with this new term for women like us, W.H.I.P-Women who are Hot, Intelligent and in their Prime. Fucking better than that old, tired, cliche Cougar.”

Sam ruminants over what you said, “So sexually adventurous...ever do it on an Impala?” He asks with a lascivious grin.

”Nuh-uh,“ you answer running your tongue teasingly around the bottles lip before taking a drink.

Sam's eyes dilate as he pulls the bottle away, brushing his lips against yours to taste the whiskey lingering on them.

Opening your mouth you catch his bottom lip, sucking on it as he tangles his hands into your hair, deepening the kiss as you work at opening the buttons of his shirt. Pushing against Sam's chest he sits back a bit so you can remove it before shifting him fully onto his back, allowing you to straddle his narrow hips and making your skirt ride up revealing your cheekster panties

Sam slips his hand between your obscenely spread thighs, roughly palming your clit through the material making you hiss, reaching to pull his hand away before your cumming to fast. He takes hold your ass in both of his big hands grips tightly pulling and pushing, making you roughly glide over his rapidly filling cloth covered cock. He’s keeping you right on edge but not allowing you to cum, the friction from the grinding eliciting moans from both of you. He sits both of you upright suddenly, gripping your shirts hem lifting it off revealing your bare breasts to him.

Sam bends forward taking your left nipple between his lips sucking on it then bits down hard enough you cry out from the pain/pleasure of it. Tangling both your hands in his hair you tug until he switches breasts to give the same treatment to your other nipple. Dragging him off your chest you resume kissing him hard, both of you start fighting for dominance.

Reaching down you unzip his pants, dipping your hand in to caress him. Sam's head drops back with a groan, exposing his neck. Your lips travel down his throat, stopping, sucking a bruise just above his collarbone.

Sliding backwards off the cars hood you finish stripping him until he's lying completely naked, legs wantonly spread out across the hood. You watch him grip his cock stroking himself as you discard the last of your own clothes before climbing back on the car.

“You’re stunning,” Sam breathily says stroking himself harder.

Keeping eye contact you place your hand over his, guiding him down to firmly grip the base of his twitching cock to steady it as you move your hands around on the hood to balance yourself, bending over to flick your tongue along the underside of his shaft up to that specific sensitive area, your tongue teasing the nerves there, making Sam shiver and noisily start panting before slowly sliding up to the slit, lapping at the precum leaking from the tip before wrapping your lips around his cock and start steadily bobbing up and down, taking his ample cock as deep as you can without gagging.

“Oh fuck yesss..feels so good,” Sam moans out as his muscles jerk from the way your tongue is moving over his cock that’s suctioned tight in your mouth.

Pulling off you stroke your hand up and down his long, thick shaft, twisting towards the tip while watching Sam massage his balls.

Sam's head thunks against the windshield as his breaths coming out harsh and broken, hips bucking wildly around from the combined stimulation.

“Fuckingfuck... fuuuu...gonna…’ was all the warning he gives before spilling hot liquid over your fingers and spurting onto the Impalas hood, painting it with white splatters as you continue stroking lightly with your cum covered fingers, easing him through the aftershocks till Sam reaches down pulling you off, to sensitive for anymore touching.

Sitting up Sam cups your cheeks in his big hands staring intently at you with lust blown chameleon eyes. “How the fuck did you do that, I haven’t cum that fast since puberty.”

Instead of saying anything, you insert your cum covered fingers one by one into you mouth, sucking and licking till your hands clean of his spending. He wraps his big hand around your wrist pulling your hand away and deeply kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth.

“Backseat now.” He growls getting off the hood and still holding your wrist gathers the discarded clothes with his other hand before dragging you with him around the car.

Opening the door he urges you to slide across the bench seat until you lying back against the other door legs spread wide to accommodate him as he’s climbing between them, somehow fitting his immense frame in the car.

Sam runs his long, slender fingers along the inside of your thighs, over your hips and stomach, studying every tremble and shiver to his touch moving to lightly stroke between your folds, inserting two fingers into your soaked channel searching for that spot. “Hmmm..” You moan out as Sam finds it.

Somehow he amazingly folds himself up and spreading his fingers to stretch your opening to delve his tongue into your core wanting a taste while continuing to stroke your thighs and hips with his other hand to keep you stimulated.

“Fuuuccckk,” the only warning you can give as you climax.

Sam adjusts the movements of his hand to keep working your swollen g spot, pushing you towards another orgasm.

The car fills with the wet squelching sounds with his fingers moving in and out of your drooling cunt as nonsensical noises come out of your mouth at the same time.

“Uhhh...to much….can’t…” your barley able to pant out pushing on the seat back trying to get some leverage to move away from him.

“Yes you can, cum for me again, I want to see you squirt, ruin the seat.” Sam growls out pinning both of your hands in his left one against the doors window.

You can feel it starting deep inside, begging for release, but your massively overstimulated and your body keeps fighting it.

“Just let go, I know you can,” Sam says in a calm, level voice, stark contrast to his animalistic actions, “let it happen…let go!” Your bodies shaking violently, hips thrusting up off the seat as your orgasm hits so hard you silently scream, your inner muscles spasming your release, flooding over his wrist and hand onto the leather seat below.

He briefly continues the steady movement of his fingers then gently pulls them out as your walls continue clenching around nothing.

Releasing your hands he picks up your discarded skirt wiping your overused pussy tenderly, cleaning you up as much as possible before lifting your hips and placing the old army blanket on the seat and lying down behind you spoons your quivering body till it’s calmed.

“You ok?” He asks softly stroking your arm, soothing you. “Yeah, better than ok,” you drowsily murmur, “what possessed you to recreate the night we meet?”

“Wanted to do something special for our fourth anniversary.” He lovingly replies nuzzling your neck.

“And your birthday,” you feel Sam make a face at being reminded he is now thirty-six. “Why is this one bothering you, they never have before.”

“Its stupid,” he sighs, making you turn your head enough to look at him. “Dean noticed that grey hair and..”

“..gave you shit about it. You could ignore him.”

“Mission impossible, it’s Dean” Sam says, sighing again.

“Hmm, well then there's only one option...Winchester him.” You say looking serious.

Sam smiles at your suggestion. It had been to damn long since he had pranked Dean and payback was way overdue.

“See, with age comes wisdom, grasshopper”

#cbrkinkchallenge #sam winchester x reader #updated version #supernatural #sam winchester smut #spn #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester #spnsamwinchester #spn fanfic

202 notes · View notes