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#then u notice that by saying what he wants he's still disguising the actual feeling
wolfiesmoon · 2 months
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New lipstick
geto x fem!reader, gojo x fem!reader (seperately)
@yuu-kumeii here's your free exposure ig🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 (do u even remember this)
watch me write two lipstick mark related fics almost in a row rrrrrah!!!
(Let's pretend gojo doesn't use infinity when alone with you in non dangerous situations, you'll see why)
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ੈ♡₊˚ Gojo Satoru
"You're being really suspicious right now." Gojo narrowed his sparkling eyes at you.
"What could you possibly be talking about..." you smiled innocently. He was definitely onto you, though. You decided to buy a new shade of lipstick a few days ago, and you kinda want to see how it looks against Gojo's skin.
"I've never seen you wear that lipstick." He noted.
"Wait, you can actually tell the difference?! Are you, like, a woman in disguise or something?!" You asked half jokingly, half seriously. It was actually impressive he could immediately tell.
"I'm not a woman, but... I know everything. Duh." He rolled his eyes playfully. What a cheeky little brat.
"Okay then, Gojo Satoru the all-knowing. How about you tell me if this lipstick suits your undertone." you pulled him down before he could say anything in response, kissing him right on the lips.
"Woah there. Well, I'll need a mirror for that, won't I darli-" he decided to be sassy. Wrong choice.
You kissed him on the lips again to shut him up.
"You can check after I'm done with you." you peppered kisses on both his cheeks and he gasped with a sudden realisation.
"I knew it! You were totally planning this!" Gojo called you out, but did you really care? Exactly, you had a mission to accomplish. And that was making sure every inch of Gojo's face was covered in kisses.
"You're not letting me go, are you? Not that I mind." Gojo smirked confidently at you. God, you're going to wipe that smirk off his face so hard.
ੈ♡₊˚ Geto Suguru
"Suguruuuuu..." you whined at your boyfriend, who was just sitting next to you and dutifully reading. Ignoring you.
It feels like he's been ignoring you for that book all day. What could possibly be in that book that's more interesting than his girlfriend?
He hummed at you to show you he actually isn't ignoring you, but he didn't even look your way. Fine then. You have a perfect way of catching his attention, anyways.
You went to the bathroom to apply some bright lipstick. He can't ignore you when his face is full of lipstick marks, can he?
You went back to the living room, where Geto was still casually reading and silently pressed a big, long kiss to his left cheek. You didn't see it, but he smiled knowingly at this.
"Oh, come here, you." He immediately closed the book and grabbed your face to kiss you back. He had a playful smirk on his face at this point.
Yes, that's right, he should be kissing you. But you're nowhere near done with him.
You lean up to kiss his forehead, and then both of his temples. Hehe, he's starting to look much better now.
"Woah. You're really staking your claim on me, aren't you?" Geto seemed more amused than anything.
"Maybe... I wouldn't... be doing this... if you actually paid attention to me and not that book." You kissed him in between words, making sure that lipstick is absolutely everywhere.
"You know, at first I didn't even notice you were trying to catch my attention. But then I just wanted to see how long you would last before doing something like th-hmmm!" you shut him up with a kiss REAL quick.
"Jerk." you pulled away from the kiss, crossing your arms.
"But I'm your jerk, though." he didn't seem mad at all. Quite the opposite.
Oh, you'll show him the real jerk.
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moonrisecoeur · 2 months
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Hi moon! Hope you're doing well!
Just wanted to send in a little question in hopes of getting some brain-dumping from you. But, if you want, can you talk more about Leon being needy and touch-deprived? Could be in any context (fluff or smutty) or any version of Leon (because let's face it, he's a pathetic baby across the board) but just wanted to hear your thoughts about that! <3
nicyyyy omg hi :3 i love seeing u on my dash and especially in my inbox heh !! hope you're well and work is good !! i'm doing awesome actually i got a 92 on my midterm that i could have sworn i should have failed. haha anyway!!
mostly fluff but theres a little bit of smutty thoughts too <3
hmm fluffy touchy leon is always such a favorite topic of mine ahhh i love re4r leon being touchy because like c'mon you're like his romantic second partner ever and, not even in like a romantic context, he doesn't get touched a lot!! i mean who is out here giving him hugs and giving him comfort when he's a literal killing machine? he doesn't really even feel worthy of comfort and touch, so he doesn't like asking for it. you gotta disguise it as you wanting comfort or else he'll try to push you away.
"no, sweetheart, i don't need you to baby me. really, it's fine, i don't even like it that much to begin with, it's fine," he says, but then if you say that you want a hug and you want comfort then of course he'll oblige!! and he won't notice it but the way you're rubbing his back in soothing circles as you hold him is definitely a sign that you're doing this for him!!
but also even in circumstances where he doesn't 'need' comfort, he still likes touch. you putting your hand on his arm or resting your cheek on his shoulder is enough to satisfy him in little moments like this.
i can also see every single version of leon being big fan of running his fingers through his partner's hair (or like just patting n petting their head if u got curly hair haha). like!! it's so close and soft and intimate, and he likes making you feel comfy. even if it's a brief hand on the back of your neck, scratching the base of your scalp gently as he leans in to kiss you, he can't get over it.
i also see all leons but especially re2r and re4r being especially fond of his partner cupping his cheek and holding his jaw as you look for little wounds or scratches. you know what i mean? do we see the vision? you're all worried for him, looking at him with such care and gentleness and he's looking right back at you with heart eyes good BYE !!
omggg he loves brushing a piece of hair behind your ear absentmindedly as you're talking. gawd especially like id or re6 good lord, like you're rambling about something and he just sits there listening to you, smiling because he thinks you're the most beautiful thing on this planet, and he reaches out to tuck of a piece of hair away and brushing his thumb against your cheek in the process. god my brain would stop i'd lose any thoughts in my head i would be contractually obligated to suck this man's dick im SORRY OMG
omg you know those guys who say their love language is physical touch but you know its just because they want sex like leon ACTUALLY feels love with touch both giving and receiving. like when he comes home from a mission and just collapses into your arms, poor thing!! you rub his back and press kisses to his temple and he just breaks down crying cux he misses you !! he hates being away from you but for your safety and for his too (because he knows the government would hold your life over his head too) he has to keep going on these missions even though they're literally killing him.
i think he learns to be better about accepting touch and affection overall with age. especially like di leon like he's always giving you hugs and kisses but like he just cannot get enough of you!! he gets less touch deprived and needy the longer he spends in a healthy, committed relationship. he still wants to touch you but he doesn't need it so intensely like he was younger.
also like we sometimes think of di leon like the conclusion, the ending, where he's completely or mostly healed of all his trauma. just because he's not as emo doesn't mean he's full gotten past everything. he's still trapped to some extent. sure, he's not the worn down, pathetic alcoholic old man that he was in re6 or vd and he's got friends he can rely on and he's doing better, but i still think he struggles with feeling worthy of the attention and care of others. he's probably not the best communicator of that either!! so just like with re4r leon, you might have to disguise it as for you as opposed to for him. he recognizes this but doesn't say anything or stop you.
as for smuttyyy hmm i like the idea of leon being touchy and affectionate during sex. like if he's single and it's just a one night stand he met at the bar, then no. absolutely not. he probably won't kiss them on the lips, mostly because he's deprived of that affectionate stuff and will definitely get attached. (edit: actually the more i think about it... maybe he would be overly touchy with some stranger because he's desperate and needs it soooo bad.. what if that scares them away and he gets all sad.. dawg now i'm sad) but if it's his long term partner then he absolutely wants to hold your hand, let you touch him however you like.
on days where he's more needy and touch deprived, i can see him leaning a bit more dominant, just taking what he wants. of course ur not gonna fight him because it's the one time he'll actually seek physical comfort without it having to be a battle between you and his own insecurities. he holds you tightly and possessively, claiming you as his, and gawd i mean what else do you do besides go along with it?
cuz like i don't see him as a total sub (sub leaning switch men x dom leaning switch women representation) but i do also see his neediness manifesting in him poorly communicating his needs. i mean, let's be real. he's not the coolest guy. he's shy and awkward and canonically not good with women (and i'm sure men too). but if you coax him into voicing what he wants from you... he gives in and lets you take care of him.
couple extra random notes:
re2r leon after the events of raccoon city finds it hard to be touchy feely and everything. tries to keep his distance cuz he's so in his head and upset about what happened.
re4r leon struggles a lot emotionally and mentally and thus is very in the most in need of comfort yet the least likely to get it as he can't communicate it very well :( plus he doesn't have a lot of agency/free will in his life so as much as i wanna say "you just gotta give him love!! he deserves it!!" it also feels like he would push away anyone who is too affectionate and loving with him. as bad as it sounds it feels like just another burden being forced onto him.
id leon i would say gives me the least touch starved needy vibes. i also feel like they made him a little too cool in id, he's not loser-y enough to be leon kennedy you know ?? but he's keeping himself busy in order to not have to think about his traumas and problems, and trying to ignore his obvious need for attention and companionship.
re6 leon is struggglinggggg he is barely able to keep himself together and just some gentle touches and love breaks him down to an emotionally needy mess. this is the man that would accidentally be overly loving and affectionate with a stranger he met at the bar.
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bi-bats · 6 months
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trick or treat!! 3-sentence fic or wip sneak peak? (up to u!)
HELLOOOOO MY BELOVED!! HAPPY HALLOWEEENNNNNNNN
For YOU I have a snippet of the one shot I'm working on that was like. supposed to be a drabble for the prompt you sent me and has gotten. long. lmao.
also it's going to be a fic with smut in it and I haven't even gotten to the smut yet and it's already 2.5k words lmao
so here my TRIUMPHANT RETURN TO WRITING JAYTIM
~ ✨ ~
“Do you… well… I mean… I could give you a massage?”
Jason blinks at him.
“Did… I’m sorry. Did you just say you could give me a massage?”  
Tim’s face burns furiously hot. What does he say, no? 
Well. He kind of wants to say no, actually. Maybe he can just gaslight his way out of this one—
No, no. Jason heard. 
Damn. 
He tries to say yes, but it tilts up into a question at the end. 
“Yes?” 
Jason blinks at him, and Tim’s skin feels too tight. The material of the couch is suddenly itchy on the back of his arms, but the heat on his face distracts him from it. Mostly.
“…Okay.” 
There’s a stutter in Tim’s breathing, the slightest hitch between in and out, right after Jason answers. It’s unnoticeable.
If you aren’t a bat.
Jason raises an eyebrow, because of course he fucking noticed.
Tim can’t just sit there while Jason looks at him like that, so he moves. 
He shifts forward on the couch, scooting an inch or two closer and waving his hands in what he hopes is a gesture indicating ‘turn around so I can rub your shoulders’ and not ‘I have no idea what to do with my hands right now this is so awkward why did I offer this oh my god’. 
He’s probably fine. The gesture for that would have had more flapping. 
Probably. 
It still takes Jason a second to get in gear. He shrugs, tilting his head to the side in a way that says something like ‘eh, why not’, which isn’t exactly what Tim had been hoping for when offering to touch a guy he’s had a crush on since he knew what crushes were, but he’s letting Tim do it, so it’s better than rejecting—
Jason slides his shirt off in a smooth motion, reaching over the back of his head to grab the neck of it and tug it off. 
It’s like one of those fucking thirst trap reels on Instagram.
Tim was just watching him move over on the couch while his thoughts went on a little spiral, and then Jason reached for the back of his shirt, and bam.
The lights drop, the music starts, the speed slows down, and Tim can see every ripple in the muscles of Jason’s forearm, every inch of skin revealing as he lifts the shirt, every angle of the dips in his spine, every scar, every scab, every damn freckle — for god’s sake, he can even see about a half an inch of elastic above the top of his pants. 
It’s red. 
Of course it’s red. 
Tim takes a deep breath, trying to disguise it by shifting closer to Jason, who’s sitting with his back to Tim, his arms threaded through the shirt in his lap. 
He can do this. He can do this. 
It’s just a massage. 
“Come on, Timbo. Let’s see what those scrawny fingers got.” 
Tim lets out an exasperated scoff, and Jason’s shoulders shake two or three times as he chuckles. 
He considers digging an elbow into Jason’s spine, just to be an asshole, but he has a better plan. 
He’s going to wow him. It’s going to be the best damn massage in his life. 
Scrawny fingers, Tim grumbles in his head as he places his hand down on Jason’s left shoulder. 
Immediately, Jason flinches and lets out a noise of surprise, and Tim flinches back because he’s surprised.
Great start.
“Jesus fuck, your fingers are like ice!” 
“Sorry, sorry,” Tim mutters, even though he isn’t, not really. Still, he rubs his hands together quickly, just a few times to get some of the cold out of them. 
He puts his hands back on Jason’s shoulders, and Jason stiffens, but he doesn’t flinch away this time. 
Okay. Good. 
Tim starts applying pressure, rubbing up and down the muscles, and after a few moments, it’s easier to shift into a more clinical headspace, even with the warmth of his skin seeping through Tim’s fingers. 
“Where is it bothering you?” he asks. 
“Oh, uh. By my spine. And…” Jason pauses for a moment while Tim’s palm digs into the meat of his shoulder, and when he resumes speaking, his voice is a little higher. “…my neck.” 
Tim nods, letting his palm dig in again. He wishes he had lotion or something. Jason’s skin drags against his every time he moves his hand, and it’s uncomfortable. Also, Jason’s skin is warm, flushing pink under the area he’s been rubbing, and… a little bit up his neck, too actually. The tips of his ears are pink, Tim realizes as he works his way up to the crook of Jason’s neck. 
He digs his thumb into the muscle right by the top of Jason’s shoulder, and he’s just starting to lose himself in it when he hears a breathy noise, almost like… 
No. No, Tim’s making shit up. Jason did not audibly moan. Tim is putting things where he wants them to be, because that’s what he wants.
On the next roll of his palm, Jason says, “Ngh, Christ, Tim.”
With Tim’s hand frozen on his shoulder, he can feel the way Jason tenses, has a front row seat to the burst of color across his neck.
Thank god they’re in Jason’s apartment. In Jason’s living room. With Jason’s cameras recording. He doesn’t have to memorize the way that sounded coming out of Jason’s mouth.
No, he can go hack into his files and save it as a clip and then back it up on three separate servers, and then also a hard drive, and maybe also on a USB in a lockbox buried in the woods somewhere, because he doesn’t think he can live another moment of his life without having access to the way his name sounded coming out of Jason’s mouth. 
“Sorry,” Jason mutters, and he sounds… meek? It’s weird, but Tim doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jason sound shy. 
“No worries,” Tim says, feeling like he’s regained some ground. 
“You can… make noise,” Tim adds. 
Immediately, he feels like he’s lost that ground. 
Jason clears his throat a little. “No, it’s — it’s fine, I’m good. You can, uh. Keep going.” 
A grin tugs across his mouth as he resumes his massage, listening to the way Jason’s breathing is getting heavier. 
“I thought my fingers were scrawny?”
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marcusrobertobaq · 5 months
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How "famous" are Connor and Kara during the game? What's their public image like?
Nothing major, just some few observations i don't see people talking about. I just wanted to leave this saved in here. Maybe can inspire somebody, who knows.
I won't be talking about Markus cuz his whole deal is exactly the public image in this game, so i'll be only commenting on "CyberLife's new detective prototype" and "the runway AX400".
⚠️ ALERT OF POOR ENGLISH SKILLS AND EXPLANATIONS. I also got a bit of HC here to help expressing my feelings.
-> Kara, the rogue AX400 model
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A quick summary: She got a price on her head...and Alice made her life difficult. Don't worry, i gonna explain.
Although having a common face can be an advantage in some infiltrations, Kara's face can also be a target on her back, even if she changed appearance.
Everything start with her escape from Todd (determinant murder). In the night she escapes itself everything was cool tho but there was a big problem: witnesses. She walked into public spaces (like the bus), got a kid by her side, can even steal some stuff and point a gun at people - and ofc these are TRACKS. Want something worse? Her case appears on TV.
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If Todd is alive he even gives an interview
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Now she's wanted by the law.
People in the region is wary for any AX400 with her likeness, the police is all over the region trynna find someone with the discriptions. A girl with the AX400 likeness, without a LED and in human clothes? IT'S HER.
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(she was lucky the guy from the motel didn't insist in her ID)
And u can notice her "disguise" ain't that perfect cuz the police can still recognize her - probably cuz of the fact she looks like an AX400, changed appearance and GOT A KID ON HER SIDE (likely the discription given by the bus guy).
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But Kara is also lucky: these types of case are becoming constant. The number of "androids going rogue" rising. Although she's all over the news, she's still a commercial android. If she escapes it's likely people would forget about her after some time cuz there will be another case like this and other suspicious AX400s.
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So my bet is "the rogue AX400 on the run" is something well known, but may be forgettable - not the case per se but "WHO" this actually is.
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Nobody knows "Kara", only the "dangerous AX400 from the chase" the police struggled. But we got a LOT of AX400s and lotta of 'em gonna go deviant. It's even funny how they especulate the "young woman" and "little girl" are 2 defective machines. These unconfirmed sources are always so fucking shady.
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And u see nobody recognizes her outside Detroit (for whatever reason), not even the cop, even with her case on the news. Idk if it was difficult implementing something checking if the police recognized her or not (meaning they would get an update on Kara's "new" appearance).
I guess was something local, her case is public - but her name? Nah. Again: even tho we got disadvantages when spotted in small regions, if she disappears she has just...dissapeared. Even the "Android Crime Unit" gives up her case 😂
-> Connor RK800, CyberLife's new prototype
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First of all i think his face was probably in all places after this hostage situation.
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Even if he fails, some cut stuff suggests some people remembered him as the android negotiator in Partners (when the 2 chapters didn't had a 2 months time skip).
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I bet he was all over the internet too, although i think his name was unknown in that period. The only ones that knew his name was probably the SWAT team - "My name's Connor, i'm the android sent by CyberLife".
And then we got Ortiz's case. Reporters were there and everybody saw an android entering the crime scene (what they ain't supposed to do) with Lt. Anderson - a known figure in the city, quite famous in law enforcement i'd say.
Later in the game is mentioned in the news a new "detective prototype" was assigned to the DPD from several sources, the first case of an android with active role in crime scenes. Also the fact a "Android Crime Unit led by Anderson" was formed. I honestly don't know if they knew Connor's name, but his model series ain't difficult to find out or getting leaked. From there it's even easier getting both information together. For now the public don't know "Connor".
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I assume after The Nest and On the Run (where Connor appears in public again and gathers LOTTA attention) everybody already know at least about the RK800 from the hostage situation now working with the Police Department. If it's positive or negative i really don't know, but he def gathered attention esp if he's succesful. The chase on the highway also gets on the news. My bet would be people inside the police department know his name, or at least "Connor, the detective prototype model".
By Public Enemy i assume overall cops know him, like that one that can be saved in The Hostage. He's recognized by his face, model and name. I like imagining after Markus speech was expected Anderson and Connor would be called, after all it's the "Android Crime Unit". Maybe it's limited tho, Perkins doesn't seem to know 'em so i think Connor ain't known in federal level law enforcement. It's at this point i think Connor is starting to make a name as "Deviant Hunter" among the deviants. We've already had The Eden Club murder case, the Ortiz murder case, the Hostage situation, Connor and the police searching for the runway (killer) AX400.
For the average people on the streets i think "RK800 Connor, the CyberLife's latest prototype, the detective model" is already recognized at least if mfs watch the news about androids, and he also got a name in law enforcement - now also known by the FBI.
So yea, i'd say he's quite known but i wouldn't call him a celebrity, esp cuz androids are in a negative pov in this universe. Also ain't cuz Connor is known that he'll also be relevant. "Androids investigating androids?" must be a common question too. In law enforcement it's likely he's "disliked" cuz means androids are now taking active roles from humans, but the public opinion probably print a "protector of human lives" kinda image depending on his succesful actions like the Hostage one (if he saved Emma) and the Stratford Tower one (if he prevented a massacre), but i'd take it with a grain of salt. It raise questions which CyberLife always remain silent and the authorities refuse sayin' something. And what happens when we ain't got official sources? Rumors are spread and opinions are overall divided.
But it's a valid questioning the average folk would have: is Connor really a detective model? Why can he use guns? Why we got androids using weapons now? How do we know he won't turn against humans? How do we know CyberLife ain't pulling 'em strings again? Will androids replace humans in every single space?
Only thing i know is Connor is "recognizable".
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And if he bring the army? Damn, that shit was all over the news. People would def comment.
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ink-flavored · 3 months
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betrayal for justice & fear for pride?
thank u!
betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?
In a way, Justice betrayed all of Heaven and also God. And they betrayed him right back!
By suggesting Heaven spare Pride (and the Purgatory-human's soul bound to him by his demon contract), Justice immediately became the enemy of almost everyone he has ever known. The singular human that would have been collateral damage was the thing he was trying to save, in accordance with justice—that human didn't do anything wrong, aside from not being good enough for Heaven—but that doesn't matter to Heaven. Pride is evil, because he's a demon, and humans who deal with demons are also evil. Guilty by association. Case closed. In response, Justice did the Big Betrayal by freeing Pride to flee to Earth, and then fleeing right after him.
Despite it being a turncoat story, Justice feels more betrayed than betrayer. Angels are supposed to serve humanity—it's what they were all created for. But everyone was happy to throw that away, give in to wrath and bloodlust as soon as a demon's death was on the table. He was shocked and appalled by the vehement rejection of his ideas. Justice still loves God, loves what he was created for, but Heaven has (in his mind) strayed from the path they were set on. What's the point of being defenders of humanity if you're not... actually... going to do that?
This is the source of his entire internal conflict, and also the plot of the story!
fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?
Pride's biggest fear is being forgotten. Becoming unimportant to the people around him, the world at large, and even God Himself. It was thing that drove him to join Lucifer's rebellion in the first place: God was forgetting him. Forgetting them all. Being forgotten, to him, is like being unmade. The idea that his memory could ever pass out of your mind... it's a bit like he never existed, right?
The first thing that Pride did when confronted with this fear was try to overthrow God. Not a great plan. But after that and adding Lucifer's countless speeches insisting that no demon should ever forgive or forget what God has done, Pride confronts himself with his fear all the time. He is constantly vying for the attention of the people around him, because then they'll never forget.
He hates this! He refuses to acknowledge that he's ever been afraid of anything in his whole life, because he thinks it's pathetic. Pride desperately wants people to notice him, and he hates that he needs recognition—good or bad—to be secure in himself.
He does get confronted with it in the story, during his first-ever game of Truth Or Dare with his friends, but chooses to wear the Cat Ears of Shame (a fate worse than death) instead of answer. He only ever says it out loud to Justice, later, after they go home. He is terrified of people finding out. In his mind, if people find out, they'll be able to see through his disguise and see how pathetic he is. He'll become forgettable.
[send me a not-so-nice OC ask]
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froms8nsashes · 5 months
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Joey hid behind her, looking around at the seadweller club the humans disguised as trolls found themselves in for jeevik week. The venue seemed to change just as they had gotten used to Cridea's hive party and were mingling with some trolls with Xefros' help. Of course, everyone's favorite friendly clown Marvus made sure that they weren't getting in trouble at the party, mostly he just wanted to look out for his lowblood friends.
Jeevik week day 2 had brought them to a club, Finz, located somewhere in the seadweller district. Everything was so fancy. Sometimes there were things made from solid gold. Cridea had handed them a bunch of cash before she disappeared into the partying crowd, apparently the dollars marked high were the only thing worth trading. Xefros was more anxious about the hundred bills, making Joey take them because she was so laid back about it.
"Omg! Cridea told me about You guYs! Love the horns bY the waY, theY reallY are blending in prettY well!"
"What! These- These aren't fake!" Xefros' eyes widened. He looked petrified.
"Dont worrY! Trust me when I saY this, no one cares. At least not here, people care about paryting and the music. It's not like in Outglut where You have to worrY about the heiress bombing us." She looked so laidback.
Isabel stole a look around the room noticing how all trolls from the hemospectrum mingled with one another. No one was terrified, no one was scared. It was convival.
"Even if someone causes a problem, we have some people to deal with." She giggled and put her hand on Xefros' shoulder. "MY matesprit is prettY strong." She nodded at the bar behind them. "Oh, You can call me Zilvie bY the waY. I'm a co-owner of this fine establishment,"
"Oh! I'm Joey, and this is Xefros, and my friend Isabel!"
"I... Still don't understand half of the things happening around us right now," Isabel whispered to Xefros, idly playing with the ends of her pink hair.
"Wait, co-owner? Does that mean the heiress owns this too?" Xefros asked.
"No, sillY! MY moirail and I own this place together, our whole deal was to create a place where people could mingle and feel safe,"
"Wow, that's not what I expected..."
"Wait, what did you expect?" Isabel looked around at all the grey-skinned trolls with candy corn colored horns. "Was something supposed to happen? Is this where we actually die?"
"Well... No one really knows what seadweller's are like, violet and fuschia kind of stick to their own crowd." Xefros was sweating and fidgeting alot, glancing at Zilvie every one in a while. Was he expecting her to cull him?
"The culture is fairlY different between the lower bloods on the spectrum, let's be honest." She chuckled. "AnYwaY! I hope You enjoY the partY," As quickly as she appeared from the crowd she had disappeared into the crowd again, although she was taller than most trolls she still blended into the sea of colors. With no idea where Cridea went Xefros and Joey looked a little lost. The trio were standing there, just standing without doing anything else.
"hey, wazz up lil rusties"
"Marvus!" Joey's face lit up and she relaxed.
"(oh no we're going to die)" Xefros whispered to Isabel.
"I ain't gon cull u wym" Marvus chuckled and ruffled his hair, towering over the three of them. "I saw u three bored so I figured I'd say hi lol :o)"
"It's just a little overwhelming is all, I mean, all these... trolls everywhere."
"Crowds get a lil easier more u be with 'em" Marvus shrugged. "Don't worry tho I could get you some seats" It surprised Isabel when he flashed finger guns and then waved for them to follow him.
For a juggalo and a purpleblood Marvus was the kindest they've encountered so far, even if he let Chahut hold Xefros and Isabel while Joey played his murder game. He was still very kind and very forgiving. The larger than life troll had sauntered over to table quite literally in the middle of the club. It was situated to face the stage where some lowblood seemed to be performing.
At further inspection there was someone sitting at the table. Another troll-- obviously cause why wouldn't they be a troll-- with violet colored hair. Their horns leaned toward another with a piercing connecting them at the pointed end. Red sunglasses covered their eyes and headphones hung around their neck. They wore a black hoodie over a dark violet turtle neck. Like the rest of the trolls there was a violet-colored symbol smack dab in the middle of their hoodie.
"/\Mmarvus I told you I'mm busy with sommethinng here./\" The troll didn't look up, just typing away on their husktop.
"yea I kno" The clown sat down and his eyes flickered to Xefros, Isabel, and Joey. "jo an her friends need somewhere to sit an this is the only open table"
"Oh, hey, that's the guy with the eye patch thingy up there." Isabel pointed at the mustard blooded troll. "What was their name..."
"Cirava." Xefros answered all too quickly, following suit as Joey sat down with the violet-blooded troll.
"So, I'm Joey and this is-- "
"/\Yea yea. I donn't have timme for mminnglinng./\"
"So, you're like some fish DJ?" Isabel asked.
Marvus' still looked pretty laidback but she noticed he tensed up a bit, looking the other way rather quickly. Xefros also looked like he was silently panicking, but he always was silently panicking.
"/\I amm nnot just a *fish DJ* actually callinng mme a fish is also derogatory./\"
"Well, aren't you a fish? I mean you have the webbed ears and I can see the gills poking out of the turtle neck." Isabel looked at Marvus and Xefros for a second, confused, then turned back to the other troll.
When the troll finally looked up they sported angel bite piercings and some pretty prominent fangs. The light of the husktop glinted on the red shades occluding their eyes from view. It was impossible to tell their reaction, mostly because the shades also covered part of their eyebrow. They really were too big.
"/\Get inn linne if you wannt to fill out mmy black quadrannt./\"
"I'm sorry what- "
"(I Xplained this to you on the train)" Xefros mumbled.
"Yeah, okay? I still don't get it." She said offhandedly to her companion. "There's no need to get worked up over some stupid nickname, you are literally a fish."
"/\Say that onne mmore timme.../\"
"Ok ok I kno things be getting rough especially bcause of the high energy but y don't u take it down a notch Chekrit"
And just like that Marvus was somehow able to smooth things over.
"Cehkrit? Like Cehkrit Fiahes?" Xefros' eyes lit up. "The faceless DJ that has been blowing up all over grubtube?"
"/\Yeah I'mm your faceless DJ kid./\"
"I didn't know trolls could have DJ's." Joey tilted her head. "Guess our planets really are similar,"
"Are you two moirails? You seem to listen to Marvus a lot." Joey asked.
"/\What nno mme annd Mmarvus are nnot mmoirails. Zilvie is mmy mmoirails./\"
"So then- "
"Joey! You can't just ask that!" Xefros threw a hand over her mouth quickly."
"/\I donn't have the ennergy to fill my red quadrannt or anny of mmy quadrannts at the mmommennt./\"
"I don't believe you at all, if you didn't have the energy then why- "
"I'm so sorry about her! Joey, let's go get something to drink!" Isabel moved so that Xefros and Joey could scoot out of the booth. She laughed at how protective he was being because she swore he said something about how cerulean's get protective of the people in their quadrants. Maybe that was all trolls?
"/\For ann alienn you still have a lot to learnn./\" Chekrit was back looking at his husktop.
"Wait, you two know I'm- "
"It's p obvious yo ur skin ain't gray" Marvus added a honk, leaning back on the side of the booth he took over completely.
"/\You also have traffic connes onn your head. I donn't knnow how people took that seriously./\"
"Do you get out, even a little? That is not how you talk to people."
"/\. Seadweller's are seperated fromm the the land-dweller's. Annd there is nno way I would talk to annother violet blood. All they wannt to talk about is cullinng./\"
"Why are you seperated?"
"Cuz we all b seperated" Marvus answered.
"Then how do you visit each other?"
"/\That's... *commplicated.*/\"
"I still don't get it,"
"/\You donn't get a lot of thinngs./\" Chekrit looked like he was rolling his eyes.
"hey play nice"
"/\This is starting to feel like ann ashenn quadrannt./\"
"Mayb it is mayb not"
"/\Sommetimmes I hate how laid back you are./\" Chekrit lowered the husktop screen but didn't fully close it. "/\You both are pitifully innfuriatinng but I also like it. Are you suggetinng ann ashenn quadrant./\"
"A what?" Isabel looked between the two trolls curiously. "What is going on right now? Am I being courted by the two of you or- "
"/\Technnically yes. I tennd to like the innsufferable onnes./\"
"Insufferable?!"
"/\What's this. What's that. Pick up a book. Clearly you havenn't./\" Was Cehkrit smiling?
"I don't mind the hate flirting but those lil rusties might" Marvus just sat there watching them like it was a show, or was he waiting to jump in when it got too intense?
Understanding quadrants and the way of relationships on Alternia was hard. It was weird. Most of all, where the hell do pails come in with all of this?
"Hate flirting? This isn't- What?!" Her face went red and she hid it in her shirt collar.
"/\I cann sennd you a book about quadrannts if you're really that clueless./\" Cehkrit chuckled.
"It might go 2 jo"
"/\Eh I donn't thinnk I care right nnow. I figured I swore of quadrannts but I guess I was wronng./\"
"You're so unenthusiastic."
"/\Annd you read like ann openn book./\"
"hey hey no pailing on the table we eat here"
"Butt out Marvus!" / "/\Butt out Mmarvus./\"
"aight just trying to loosen tension" He couldn't hold in his laugh and there was a hint of a smile.
"/\I'll take it you donn't knnow auspustice./\"
"Wha- "
"/\The ashenn quadrannt inn which conntainns three people. Let's say you me and Mmarvus for exammple. Mmarvus mmakes sure we donn't actually cull each other, but sommetimmes cann joinn inn onn the hating./\"
"So basically just enemies to lovers with a polyamorous twist?"
"/\What to what with a what twist./\"
"I'm not going to explain it." Isabel chuckled awkwardly. "So basically we have hate sex and sometimes Marvus watches?"
"tf yo" Marvus rose a brow.
Clearly these two trolls wouldn't understand speech from Earth.
"Nevermind."
"/\So technnically we're datinng annd Mmarvus is like the wisdomm or advice personn./\"
"Oh, okay. That makes sense."
Joey and Xefros were sitting at the bar. The redblooded troll couldn't help but keep glancing over at the trio sitting by the stage. He was anxious. Wringing his hands together worriedly as he sipped on a water. Well, barely actually touched the water. Joey was waiting for him to say something first. Happily drinking her water. It tasted very fruity. Better than the tap water back home.
"I can't believe she didn't get culled."
"She is naturally charismatic," Joey giggled. "It make sense how she can make friends so quickly.
"I was getting the vibe that he wanted to form a quadrant with her."
"But didn't he say- "
"Sometimes trolls don't say what they mean."
"Which quadrant?"
"Auspustice."
"Doesn't that mean they hate each other?"
"No, well yes. It does. Like I said, all relationships are different. Our quadrant is not a one size fits all. X("
"So auspustice can be like polyamory?"
"What?"
"Dating multiple people."
"Maybe,"
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the-hype-dragon · 11 months
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about 200 pages into No Exit, which I bought last year after seeing the trailer for the movie adaptation
(this post is long and rambling)
let me preface this by saying I don't read a whole lot of thrillers because the genre doesn't impress me in general. I loved Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs but I consider those horror novels instead of just straight thriller novels. for all I know No Exit is a very typical thriller but if all thrillers are written like this I will just go on being unimpressed by the genre
iirc I remember reading some review saying it was like a Stephen King book... correct. Taylor Adams makes as many Thing of the Cultural Moment references as King does, which instantly makes the book very dated. it was published in 2017 (though my paperback is copyrighted for 2019, so I was under the false impression it was much more recent lmao). there is a Pokemon Go! reference early on, a reference to the 2014 Godzilla movie, and a Max Payne (!!!) reference much later, all delivered in a very "how do u do fellow kids" kind of way lmao
also in typical King fashion the villains are so over the top they're unbelievable and the writing is about as subtle as a brick to your face
case in point: the symbolism is very in-your-face and not very clever. the author also enjoys smacking you in the face with "revelations" that are just "see I did a clever thing, reader!" In one scene the villains are kidnapping a child, the dumb one is wearing a zombie mask and the smart one is wearing a werewolf mask, because get it, the dumb one is the other villain's minion, and the smart one seemed good at first but he's really a monster in disguise do you get it
one of them saying he wanted to be a magician when he was a kid would have been clever foreshadowing if it was not similarly bashed over your head how clever the author found it lmao
the main character is equal parts kind of clever and very stupid, but her few smart moments rely entirely on the villains being too dumb to figure out that she would do something to try and fool them. yes even the smart one is too dumb to figure out when she is obviously playing them
on the positive side this book can be really funny and I feel like Adams actually has a decent sense of humor... the only problem is there are also moments that are funny in a way that feels very unintentional
somehow I am supposed to believe two other characters don't notice how evil the villains are or that they are unaware of things like three characters being absent all at once, multiple times. they are all stranded in a rest stop during a snowstorm btw
there are a couple moments where it feels like neither the author nor the editor read real closely because the protagonist has a thought and two seconds later (literally, a page-and-a-half later) the villain says the same thing and she acts like this is a huge revelation. gorl WHAT
in perhaps another sign of the book's "age" (it was published in 2017!) one of the bad guys is a porn addict and we are supposed to find this creepy... while I agree with this we have unfortunately entered an age where calling out a dude's porn addiction is seen as a hate crime lmao
I like the middle-aged side characters, they are charming in a typical "embarrassing middle aged people" kind of way. I could tell the book is written by a man when the (female) protagonist calls the older woman "frumpy" lmao
since I still have about 200 pages to go however (and I haven't looked at spoilers) I'm still holding out hope that a really dumb story one of the villains told very early in the book has some pay-off later. he got his thumb nearly amputated in a door hinge when he was a child so here's hoping some freak door hinge accident is what takes him out!!!
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obeetlebeetle · 3 years
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deeply lonely people who refuse to face their own loneliness, while still knowing what they’re not looking at. the acknowledgement that moving closer is inexorable and will change them. 
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delicrieux · 3 years
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☆ミ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 23: PRETTY BOY
emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.
─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.
author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!
ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.
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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results). 
You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be. 
The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.
Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.
In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children. 
noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T
yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me
feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(
You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.
“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.
why does she sound like goofy 
The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.
pack it up yandere simulator
idk whats going on but i think im into it?
villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC
“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”
More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”
“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”
“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”
“SD-what now?” Dream questions.
“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”
“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”
“Guess, Sherlock.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.
“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”
“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.
“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim. 
Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.
“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”
If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.
“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.
“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.
Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”
i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me
^already too late for me bro
As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.
Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.
He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”
He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.
“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”
“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”
“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.
“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.
“HEY!”
“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”
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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.
Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.
Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!
“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.
“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.
“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”
Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.
“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”
Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”
“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”
“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”
“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”
“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”
“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.
“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”
“You were not--”
“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”
“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”
“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do. 
Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.
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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”
“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.
BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!
Your fishnets have a point! 
“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.
“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.
“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”
“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”
“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”
“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”
“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”
“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”
“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”
“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.
“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.
“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.
“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”
NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK
MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T
“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”
“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”
“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”
“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”
finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for
i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)
the bis won
“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”
“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”
Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”
“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”
“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 
“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”
“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.
“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”
Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping. 
You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.
That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex. 
“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”
“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”
“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.
“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”
“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”
“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”
“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!
“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”
Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”
“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”
“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.
“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”
“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”
A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.
“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”
He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him. 
y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards
Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.
“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”
“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”
“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.
“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”
“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”
“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.
“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red. 
“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.
“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.
“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.
In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.
“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”
“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).
yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder
queen stop its embarrassing
bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3
More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.
The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.
it’s happening!!!! 
omg omg omg omg
VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC
You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”
pack it up light yagami
this has awoken something in me.
^ same
The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.
Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.
It’s a knife.
In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.
Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.
Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.
So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.
“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling. 
You grin, “I was looking for something.”
Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.
“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.
“A knife.”
“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.
i love women
if evil bad...why seggy?
You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.
You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!” 
“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out. 
“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”
“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”
“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.
hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom
hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly
mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn
Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.
You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”
“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”
“Is it because you’re bald?”
“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.
You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.
You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.
“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”
You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.
“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.
“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.
“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.
“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”
“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.
“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.
Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.
“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.
“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.
only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3
corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever
the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite
“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.
You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”
“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.
“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”
“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.
“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you. 
You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage. 
“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”
“No fucking clue.”
“Y/n?” She tries again.
“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”
“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.
Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.
You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her. 
“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”
“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”
You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”
“SHIT!”
Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”
“I’m not Impostor!”
“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”
They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.
“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”
“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”
“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’d never do that, baby.”
Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement. 
“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.” 
Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”
“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”
“Holy shit.”
“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.
“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.
“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.
“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.
“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”
“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”
“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”
Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”
“No, she does.” James chimes.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”
More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.
Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.
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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos​ - @fairywriter-oracle​ - @tsukishimawh0re​ - @ofstarsanddreams​ - @bbecc-a​ - @annshit​ - @leahh19​ - @letsloveimagines​ - @bellomi-clarke​ - @wineandionysus​ - @guiltydols​ - @onephootinfrontoftheother​ - @liamakorn​ - @thirstyfangirl​ - @lilysdaydreams​ - @pan-ini​ - @mxqicshxp​ - @tanchosanke​ - @yoshinorecommends​ - @flightsandfantasy​ - @liljennyx3​ - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible​ - @sinister-sleep​ - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit​ - @unstableye​ - @simonsbluee​ - @shinyshimaagain​ - @ppopty​ - @siriuslystupid​ - @crapimahuman​ - @ofthedewthesunlight​ - @mythicalamphitrite​ - @artsyally​ - @corpsesimpp​ - @corpsewhitetee​ - @corpse-husbandsimp​ - @hyp-oh-critical​ - @roses-and-grasses​ - @rhyrhy462​ - @sparklylandflaplawyer​ - @charbkgo​ - @airwaveee​ - @creativedogs​ - @kaitlyn2907​ - @loxbbg​ - @afuckingunicornn​ - @fleurmoon​ - @yeolliedokai​
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
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pastxlscorp · 3 years
Text
Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.3)
Chapter III: Abidance
✿ Word Count: 3.2k
✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader
✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Hakkai POV, Y/N POV, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, slight angst
Awakening from his slumber, he found that the woman was no longer taking up space in his bed. He heaved a sigh of relief, only to, unfortunately, see a message from an unknown number on his phone saying “Text me when you’re free ;)” Ignoring the text, he found he had a message from Hakkai and remembered that he had abandoned him to sleep with that damn woman. However, Hakkai didn’t confront him about it, but instead acted as if nothing happened.
🗨️ Hakkai: Is the party still on for today? (Sent 2:00am)
🗨️ Mitsuya: Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t feeling my best, I should have let you know. (Sent 10:00am)
🗨️ Hakkai: No hard feelings. Ya feeling better now Taka-chan? (Sent 10:01am)
🗨️ Mitsuya: Not really, but it’ll pass. What’d you end up doing yesterday after I left? (Sent 10:02am)
Picking up on the subtle curiosity of Mitsuya’s text, it became clear to Hakkai that he did see him with you. As much as he admired Mitsuya, the anger building inside of him got the best of him. Therefore, in response, he chose a reply that he knew would get Mitsuya boiling.
🗨️ Hakkai: Caught Y/N outside of your class, had a wonderful lunch with her! She’s so nice, Taka-chan! Why are ya so mean to her? (Sent 10:04am)
Vigorous fingers typed in reply.
🗨️ Mitsuya: Why the fuck were you hanging around that slut? She’s just gonna try and get in your pants. What did she say to you? (Sent 10:04am)
🗨️ Mitsuya: Hakkai? Hello? (Sent 10:05am)
🗨️ Hakkai: Sorry Taka-chan, I’m back. She didn’t say nuthin bad, actually she was so sweet. She saw I was alone and we both had some tea together back at her place. Ended up sleeping over, I’m still here actually! (Sent 10:05am)
🗨️ Mitsuya: BACK AT HER PLACE? I told you, she’s just trying to get in your pants and you let her win! I can’t believe you let a whore like her win you over, Hakkai! Where the fuck is your brain? She probably was enjoying every minute of your sorry ass. (Sent 10:05am)
🗨️ Hakkai: Who said we slept together, Taka? (Sent 10:05am)
Silence enveloped the room.
🗨️ Mitsuya: Sorry… I just assumed that’s what you meant by sleeping over. (Sent 10:07am)
🗨️ Hakkai: Awh, it’s okie Taka, I know you were only looking out for me. (Sent 10:07am)
Absolutely, looking out for Hakkai. That’s what this was, that’s what he was doing. There couldn’t have been any other reason why he was so upset at the thought of you sleeping together. He was just being a good friend.
-----
┃ “Y/N!” the hoarse voice spoke to you, feeling the smooth cloth of his jacket pressed against your face as you bumped into him.
You looked up only to recognize Hakkai, kind thoughts flooding your mind, diminishing your anger stemming from your interaction with Mitsuya moments before. He grinned at you giddily, eyes relaxing any sort of tension left in your body. You slowly began to forget why you were mad and allowed yourself to indulge in his presence.
┃ “Good afternoon Hakkai! Waiting for Mitsuya?”
┃ “Mhm, you takin’ Designer 101 too, right?”
┃ “Yup! How come you aren’t taking it? You’re very fashionable, y’know?”
┃ “You’re too kind,” He giggled, his grin beginning to somehow grow wider on his cheeks as he raised his hand to pat your head.
┃ “I’m serious! Why don’t you join the class? It’s not too late, the second semester is about to start!” You eagerly pushed on, rejoicing in the positive energy he emitted.
┃ “ ‘m not really into making clothes, just showing them off...” He let out a hefty chuckle before getting cut off by you.
┃ “You don’t have to be good at making them! Some students choose to learn how to stylize different clothing and patterns, it’s all about the latest trends.”
┃ “Really?” He went silent for a few moments, smile morphing into a straight line as he contemplated your words carefully. Not to fret, as his smile quickly returned as he said: “Well then, might have to ask Taka-chan to help me sign up!”
You both shared a laugh and began to discuss the enrollment process in order for Hakkai to join the class-- if he were to drop another class, what class would he drop, or would he simply add it to his current schedule? While your conversation was nothing more than an innocent developing friendship, unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had witnessed it all and declared it once more another betrayal. You were such a slut, flirting with anyone and everyone. Irrationality began to consume him-- instead of seeing your interaction with Hakkai for what it truly was, a genuine developing friendship, his brain refused to comprehend your behavior with other men. He never got to the level of comfortability you had with Takemichi, and he had lost the sense of ease you had with him to Hakkai and god, god did it piss him off. Unfortunately for that kohai, she was just another doll for him to play with just until he could get your attention again. Even a single drop of your attention, your attachment, it was enough to drive him for weeks just to be able to be near you again. Your kind words squeezing his heart tighter and tighter the more you spoke, your laughter ringing in his ears at a corny joke he told you during club meetings, it enveloped him into infatuation which later developed into a larger feeling. Such a large feeling over the progressing months that when he began bullying you, when your lack of presence and absences during meetings began to grow, an emptiness began to root in his heart, waiting for you to touch it once more and let it grow.
He could go on and on listing things about you-- the way he loved your sense of fashion, the way he loved your sense of humor, your compassion to helping others, your intellect that allowed you to read everyone like a book, everyone except him. Why couldn’t you see that he didn’t hate you? Oh, but that jealousy, the first time he’d admit that it was jealousy, it gripped him so tightly around his neck that it felt suffocating. Every shove, every clasp of your hand, your wrist, your chain, your chain, it made his heart shutter seeing that dead watery look in your eye, but your attention was like a drug that he just had to keep getting more of. It would never be enough to satisfy him, not until he could call you his and you would call him yours. He pitied using them, he really did, but he needed someone to satiate his needs. He was a womanizer, after all-- if one left he would just charm another into his bed. They all had high respect for Mitsuya, his intellect, his charm, his skill, and his kindness. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all those women, they were never you and they could never try and be you. He found that he no longer sought sex for his own pleasure anymore, but for your own, pretending so desperately that the one trembling out of pleasure beneath him was you. Imagining, no, fantasizing that he was making you happy and leaving you satisfied.
Upon seeing your interaction, he quickly left with his kohai for their own exchange, leaving Hakkai unfortunately confused as he waved you goodbye, patiently waiting for his friend to meet him. You were still on campus because you had taken additional extracurricular activities to build up your transcript to make up for your absences in Mitsuya’s Home-economics club. At first, you attempted to make it through the club meetings but he made every single one as unbearable as possible. The second semester, could it come any sooner? Hakkai, too focused on organizing his schedule with you previously, had failed to notice Mitsuya leaving with a woman. He waited, he waited, and he waited, coming to a good hour until he realized Mitsuya wouldn’t have left him waiting for this long without a heads up. He looked at his phone, expecting some sort of contact-- a phone call, a message, anything. All that awaited him was several unread messages from group chats and friends, none of them from Taka-chan. He sighed, placing his phone away just as he noticed your presence once more, planting a fake smile on his face to disguise his obvious disappointment. Unfortunately for him, his smile only instantly alerted you something was wrong.
┃ “Hakkai? Why are you still here, weren’t you supposed to be meeting Mitsuya?”
┃ His phony smile stood in place as tears began to fill his eyes. He croaked: “T-taka-chan left me. Do you think he’s mad at me for sumthin’, Y/N? I don’t ‘member doin’ anything.”
You instantly rushed over to comfort him, witnessing what appeared to be an intimidating giant become undone into a fragile teddy bear at the thought he had upset his best friend. Your disdain only kept growing for Mitsuya, first it was his lack of maturity during class, and now he had abandoned his best friend for whatever reason it was. Hakkai was a sweetheart, you couldn’t imagine what he may have done to upset someone. Therefore, you came to the conclusion Mitsuya had thrown a tantrum of sorts and took it out on him. It irked you, however, Mitsuya always remained respectful and loving to his best friend in addition to Yasuda-san, so you couldn’t help but raise your brow wondering what got him so upset for him to entirely ditch his friend. Pushing those thoughts aside, you placed all of your focus on bringing a smile back to Hakkai’s face, gently rubbing his back and placing your forehead against his temple as he crouched over in defeat. You desperately attempted to think of anything to cheer him up.
┃ “Ah, how about some tea?”
┃ “...Tea?”
┃ “Listen, I have absolutely no idea what you like and I want to calm you down so-”
┃ “Tea sounds good.” He said softly, a small smile returning to his face.
You escorted Hakkai comfortably back to your dorm, located on the east wing of the campus. Women and men could go to each other’s dorms, they just had gender-separated wings because it was just easier to contain the chaos if everyone was allowed to sleep with their girlfriend or boyfriend. The boys had their dormitory on the west side, thus you noticeably got some glances as you strolled with Hakkai. Mitsuya was always surrounded by Hakkai and Yasuda-san, so obviously most of your classmates were shocked to see you hanging out with his right-hand man. Were you both sleeping together? Ooh what a scandal (not). Although you didn’t mind the glanes too much, Hakkai on the other hand made sure to shoot down them all with a nasty side glare, quickly causing them to turn their cheek. It was a cute sight after all, seeing how you subconsciously had reached for his hand and began to rub gentle circles on it in order to ease him, which succeeded in doing so. Once you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door and gave him a show of jazz hands as you toured him around your dorm. Your dorm wasn’t the largest compared to his and Mitsuya’s dorm, which made him realize the privilege of not having a financially aided dorm. Your queen bed comfortably rested on the right side of the room, covered with a curtain and fairy lights on the wall behind it. Your desk was not too far away, maybe a good 15 feet across your bed, not too messy but not too neat. It was obvious you were working on something, as there were papers still out and scattered but the rest of the desk had the pens, pencils, and stapled papers sorted in a clean pile. Your pinboard was half-covered with your calendar, cluttered with small sticker reminders while the other half was your schedule, nicely decorated with washi tape sticking it to the board. Next to your bed was a wooden closet and you led him into the cramped kitchen that made him gasp, seeing how you make such a tight space so comfortable and presentable. You had a small glass coffee table in the middle, a small fridge cramped in the kitchen underneath a cupboard and next to a cabinet holding the sink on top. Next to that was a stove with a microwave on top, both color-coordinated black, contrasting the white of the room. You guided him over to the table and motioned for him to sit and he obediently did. Walking over to the countertop holding an old-school kettle, you used it to strain and brew the tea. Gleefully, you dropped a few ice cubes in his glass and carefully poured his tea and then your own, sitting across from him at the table. He took a sip of the tea you had placed in front of him, smiling not at the delightful taste but the awaiting face you had fixated, putting your hands under your chin waiting for a response.
┃ “This tea is delightful, thank you Y/N.” He said warmly and you basked in his praise.
┃ “Ah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the staring. I don’t… really get visitors. It’s nice to have someone over.” You replied, your face beginning to glow a light pink as your lips formed into a slight frown, embarrassed to admit how you had no friends.
┃ “Mm, I should be the one thankin’ you,” The softness in his voice made your crouched posture fix itself as you looked up to him. “You made me sum tea, opened me to your home, all ‘cuz I was sad and overthinkin’. You ain’t hafta do that, but you did anyway. I appreciate ya!” His iconic grin was now back where it belonged as his eyes glazed over you in pure adoration. You smiled in return, both returning to take a sip of your tea.
Hours passed and he was still at your house, you both gossiping and talking like old friends. You discussed your classmates, praising them and disapproving of the behavior of others. He began to confide in you about what he witnessed during his time as the second-division’s vice captain. You eagerly listened to him as he described to you his tales with his brother and his amazing sister Yuzuha, anything and everything was up for debate. At least, almost everything. Despite being the main reason he was so upset, you and Hakkai had not discussed Mitsuya’s treatment of you. He was mentioned in a few gang stories, but it seemed as if Hakkai was opting out of speaking about him out of respect for you. However, his head began to slump, implying he was tired. You grabbed your phone, which had been placed upside down on the coffee table, and looked at the time and saw it was well past midnight. You leaned over to rub Hakkai’s shoulder and you gasped when his head turned back upright, alert as if he just remembered something. Drunk on drowsiness, he began to speak:
┃ “Mmh, y’know Mitsuya used to talk about you a lot. Always went on about this pretty girl who was awfully sweet, really smart…” He trailed off, fighting off the sleep that clung desperately to his eyelids. “He never gave me a name but after club meetings when I woulds wait for him, he would tell me about his conversations. I always saw him looking at ya. What did ya do to make him so pissed off?” Although he had no malicious-intent in his questioning, it was enough to cause goosebumps all over your body.
┃ “I didn’t do anything, ‘kai. Really, nothing different happened that day. All of the sudden, the next day during his club he humiliated me in front of everyone and then made me stay after hours to yell at me even more.” You went silent for a moment, before your curiosity got the best of you and you questioned: “He used to talk about me? Are you sure?”
┃ Ignoring your question, he replied to your initial response. “You didn’t do anythin’ different at all that day?”
┃ You contemplated his question carefully, before realizing the one event that was an outlier to the rest. “I was waiting for my friend outside campus gates that day. He offered to wait with me but I insisted he didn’t, mainly because my friend had said Mitsuya wasn’t very fond of him so it was better if he didn’t see him.”
┃ “Who’s the friend?”
┃ “Hanagaki Takemichi.”
┃ The tired man in front of you took a full minute to process your sentence before bursting out and crying of laughter a few moments later. You looked at him, pure confusion coating your body as he continued to sob. Finally, after a few minutes, he wiped his eyes and sat back up, gleaming at you. “Well that’s your problem, Mitsuya fucking hates Takemichy. Probably spied on ya because he was worried, saw Takemichy, and boom-- he got jealous AHAHA!” He went back to crying of laughter, leaving you a few moments to yourself to process his words.
It was embarrassing to admit how Hakkai was half-asleep in front of you and somehow managed to put together your puzzle of confusion together months after said incident had happened, in under 20 minutes. However, you couldn’t find yourself disagreeing with his theory. Suddenly, Hakkai stopped laughing and looked up at you, all serious.
┃ “Now wait… that’s not funny! He’s been pushing ya around all the time just cuz he’s jealous of you being with other guys?! That’s fucked up! ‘M gonna beat his ass, Y/N! Just for you!”
You now began laughing, taking Hakkai’s hand in yours over the glass countertop and tapping it gently.
┃ “That won’t be necessary, ‘kai. How about we come up with a solution?”
┃ “My solution is beating his a-”
┃ “A non-physical solution.”
┃ He went silent for a few moments, looking away from you to the window to think. You could tell he thought of something when a smirk began to plaster itself on his face. “How about we test our theory?”
┃ “Elaborate.”
┃ “If that pain in my ass is done with whatever it is he’s doing, there was supposta be a party tomorrow. Not at our dorm, but our friend’s. You might have heard of him, Manjiro Sano?”
You responded with silence.
┃ “Mikey. The Invincible Mikey.”
┃ “Not ringing any bells.”
┃ “Brother of Emma Sano. Brother of Izana.”
┃ “Emma Sano is so nice!”
┃ “Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Y/N.”
┃ “Oh.”
┃ “Point is, he’s having a party tomorrow. We could get some revenge, I bring you as my date~”
┃ “Won’t that make him angri-
┃ “That’s what revenge is.”
┃ “Why don’t I just talk with him?”
┃ “Has he tried talking to you?”
┃ “...no.”
┃ “I rest my case.”
Silence enveloped the room once more. It wasn’t an awkward silence, no, it was quite a comfortable silence actually as he patiently awaited your response and allowed you to process and think.
┃ “When is the party exactly?”
✿ tags: @haiq-trash @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron @delicatejudgecopcowboy @skiwalkers
✿ a.n. // First of all, thank you so much for 102 followers <3 I appreciate the support being given to me! I would like to address one thing, however, please don't rush me to write! I've gotten very kind messages of support but others have been demanding more of me and it's important to remember that I have classes, chores, a social life, and many other things happening. I love writing but rushing me makes it unenjoyable and it won't be my best work. My goal for this ongoing fanfic is to post weekly. Just a little ted-talk there, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter though! I had such a fun time writing it :)
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ellsbclls · 3 years
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you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!
thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 
i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!
extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨
The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.
The thought makes you want to drown.
Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.
You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.
A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.
“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.
“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.
“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”
“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”
“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“
His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”
You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.
Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.
He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”
“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.
You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.
“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.
“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.
“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 
Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.
“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.
He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”
“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.
You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.
Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.
“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”
He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.
“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?
“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.
“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.
“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.
“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”
“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”
“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.
Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.
Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.
You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.
Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.
All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 
“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 
He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.
His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 
Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.
“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.
“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.
“Of course, my love.”
210 notes · View notes
poisonedapples · 3 years
Text
Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter 2
Craft Projects and Failed Bonding
Chapter Summary: Roman plots against Patton in a way he thinks is threatening.
Previous Chapter Story Masterlist
Chapter Warnings: Panic, anxiety, implied past abuse, food mentions, and anxiety over being watched by cameras.
Word Count: 4,533
Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22
Notes: Thanks to cornybird on Ao3 for helping me beta this one!
“Virgil, wake up, it’s time for breakfast!”
Roman cracked open his eyes to stare at the door. His security bar was still under the doorknob, and it sounded like Patton walked away to knock on the next kid's door, so Roman slowly lifted himself out of Virgil’s bed once the coast was clear. He hadn’t been asleep for the last two hours, so there was no point to continue lying down and risk Patton trying to get into the room to wake him up. So Roman rubbed his tired eyes to undo the security bar and put it in his backpack.
Though, speaking of his backpack…he had no idea where to put it. It wasn’t safe in Virgil’s room, but Virgil was still sleeping in Roman’s bedroom. He could take it downstairs with him, but that’s a strange thing to do during breakfast, and he didn’t want that to be the conversation opener of the day. Especially if they asked him what was inside. They weren’t allowed to know that.
Eventually, Roman settled on hiding the backpack underneath Virgil’s bed. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it’d work until Roman could come back and take it. He opened the door and headed downstairs, praying that he wouldn’t be the first kid to arrive.
The prayer wasn’t enough, because Roman looked around the kitchen and only saw Patton at the stove. Patton looked over at him and seemed confused, trying to hide it behind a chipper smile. “Morning, kiddo! How’d you get dressed so fast? I only knocked on your door a second ago!”
Don’t let him find out you weren’t in your room. “Oh, these are my pajamas, I haven’t gotten dressed yet. And I was already awake, so I just came right downstairs.”
Patton looked Roman up and down, and Roman shivered. “…Do you not have real pajamas, kiddo?”
“No. I like sweatpants better.”
Patton didn’t seem pleased, but he didn’t question it further. Roman sat down at the table and anxiously drummed his fingers while he waited. Eventually, Logan came downstairs fully dressed with his hair brushed, and Virgil followed not long after. His hair was a mess, and his pajamas were twisted like he just fell out of bed and rolled down the stairs to make it in time. 
Patton took one look at him and almost gasped. “Virgil, did you sleep last night? You look…a bit rough, to put it lightly.”
Virgil grunted. “I had to clean.”
Patton sighed. “Kiddo, save cleaning for the morning, okay?”
Virgil shrugged, groggily making his way to the coffee machine to try and steal some Patton already made for himself. “Virgil,” Patton chastised, “No coffee. You can go back to sleep after breakfast if you want, but you’re too young for coffee.”
Logan raised his hand. “May I have some?”
“No.”
“Darn.”
“What kinda drink do you want, Roman?” Patton asked. “And don’t say coffee.”
Coffee sounded really nice, actually, but there was no use arguing. “I’ll take milk, then.”
Patton finished emptying the contents of his pan onto some plates before grabbing three cups from the cupboard and filling them up. Two had milk while one had orange juice, and he passed them to each seat at the table. He then passed everybody their plates, with scrambled eggs and a bagel with cream cheese. Roman took his fork and tasted a bite of the eggs.
Holy fuck, Roman hadn’t had something that tasty since his grandma last cooked for him. The eggs were so soft and cheesy, and Roman could barely contain his excitement for it. He put as many eggs as he could fit onto his fork and stuffed it all in his mouth.
Patton laughed when he noticed Roman’s reaction. “Taste good, kiddo?”
Roman hummed, and Patton smiled. “Good! I learned how to make them from my roommate in college, and I haven’t looked back since!”
Roman hoped that roommate taught him how to make a lot more things then, because this was heavenly. He’d finished his entire plate of eggs so fast it was concerning, forgetting all ability to savor his food. Maybe Roman could find the recipe and steal it when Patton wasn’t looking.
Until then, Roman moved on to eating his bagel while everyone else wasn’t even close to finishing breakfast. He guessed that was a good thing. If he finished before everyone else, he could run to Virgil’s room and grab his backpack without anyone noticing. Roman chewed faster at the possibility.
Once again, the table went very silent as everyone ate and Roman tried to make a swift escape. Patton was the one to break the silence this time. “So, Roman,” he said, “How about you and I go to the store today?”
Roman froze. “…Why?”
“I’m sure there’s some stuff you need. School starts again in two days, so we need to get you some school supplies, and maybe we can get some stuff to decorate your room with too!”
“Wait, school starts in two days? I thought it started in two weeks!”
Patton seemed apologetic. “In this district, the first day is this Wednesday. Usually I’d let you stay at home a little longer to get comfortable before school, but I think it’d be easier for you to start the first day when you have the chance. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you home alone for another week.”
You should leave me here alone, Roman thought. He was a little disappointed he had to go to school sooner than usual, but school was also the best excuse to leave home early and come back late. If he could get involved again in theater, he could hide out and blame his late return times on rehearsals. So maybe it was a blessing in disguise.
Patton interrupted Roman’s internal scheming. “Do you know what kinda supplies you might need, kiddo?”
Roman twirled his cup in his hand and watched the milk spin. “Binders, pencils, folders, notebooks…I only have a backpack, really.”
“We definitely need to stop by the store then! And while we’re there, we can look at all the bedroom stuff too!”
Everything in Roman made him want to decline, to tell Patton to buy him whatever and he’ll make do with what he has. His heart started to pound again, his hand gripping hard on his cup and thinking about his escape options. Then it dawned on him.
They would be going to a store. A store, full of cashiers and moms with kids and plenty of parents who might also need school supplies. If there was anywhere he could be safe while alone with Patton, it was there. And maybe if he agreed, Patton would leave him alone for a while…
“…We can go.” Roman said. Patton’s grin widened and his eyes lit up.
“Great! So, just get ready once you finish breakfast, and we can head out! Logan, you’ll be in charge while Virgil takes a nap.”
Logan nodded, and Virgil almost fell asleep on top of his plate.
Eventually, everyone finished breakfast and put their dishes away, Virgil dragging himself back upstairs and falling into bed without even closing his door. Roman carefully entered his bedroom, darting his eyes between where he hid his backpack and where Virgil was lying.
“What.” Virgil snapped, mumbling it into his pillow. Roman stopped in his tracks.
“I only need to grab my bag, then I’ll leave you alone.”
“Fuggin’ take it.” Virgil snapped.
Roman grabbed his backpack and scurried out of there, closing the door behind him. It uneased Roman to try to sleep with the door open, so he assumed someone as secluded as Virgil might be the same. It was a little way to show his gratitude for last night.
Roman walked back to his own bedroom after grabbing his backpack. However, once Roman opened the door, he finally understood what Virgil meant by “cleaning”.
The mess Roman made last night was completely gone. The bed was made, the hangers were placed back in the closet, the lightbulb was back in the lamp and the nightstand had been set back up. It was almost like last night was a bad dream that never happened, Roman’s only evidence that it had being the fact that he woke up in Virgil’s room that morning. He looked around the room again to process the change, when he noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand.
Roman picked up the piece of paper and unraveled it.
There’s no cameras in here, I checked. I also fixed your mental breakdown for you. You owe me one.
Virgil
Roman looked around the room, holding the paper tight to his chest as he examined every corner. There wasn’t a single camera in here? Not one? No, no that wasn’t possible. The camera was around here somewhere. Roman knew it.
He looked around again, three times, looking under objects and in the closet, feeling the pit in his stomach grow when all his searches came back futile. He knew it was here somewhere, and he refused to let Patton win. Roman would find it.
He’d just…have to find some other place to sleep until then.
Roman shook his head as a way to erase his thoughts. He could worry about the camera later, but for now, he needed to please Patton’s attempt at getting to know him and get out of this cursed room. Roman still wrapped a blanket around himself as he got dressed, not quite able to shake his anxiety long enough to not take precautions. He changed from his pajamas to a red shirt and baggy jeans, and ran out to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Camera or not, he’d have to find a way to pay Virgil back.
***
“Roman, what’s your favorite color?”
Roman snapped out of his distant stare to look at Patton. He was looking at a display of school binders, pausing for a moment to glance at Roman and wait for an answer. The stare was so much for Roman to process that he took a step back. “Uh…red.”
“Perfect! They’ve got lots of reds!” Patton grabbed a red binder before stopping himself with a thinking expression on his face. “Though, wait, let me check the supplies website…I don’t wanna get a wrong size, or only get one when you need multiple…”
Roman went back to staring at the floor under him. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. It seemed like a great idea at first, but now Roman was here holding himself tight and trying not to cry, feeling the exhaustion set in while his anxiety made him restless. He wanted to go home and sleep, but there was nowhere to sleep. Nowhere to hide.
He’d have to search the house for hiding spots later.
“So,” Patton eventually said, “It doesn’t say exactly, so I’ll just grab a zipper binder and one two inch just in case. If you need more, I can always stop by again and buy some. What’s your second favorite color?”
Roman swallowed to fight back the tears. “Purple.”
Patton smiled. “That’s Virgil’s favorite color! So, one red zipper binder and a purple two inch. So let’s look at the pencil cases now!” Patton caught a glimpse of Roman’s pale face and his smile dropped. “…Are you okay, kiddo?”
Roman nodded. He didn’t trust himself to talk, but it seemed like Patton didn’t trust his answer. He took a step toward Roman, and Roman took two steps back. Patton frowned. “Are you sure?”
Roman nodded again. Patton ran a hand through his hair and looked around the store. Please, let’s just get this over with already.
Patton’s head stopped as his eye caught sight of a specific aisle, and he smiled in Roman’s direction. “Say, kiddo, how about you go check out the fish? I’ll be over here getting the boring stuff if you need me!”
Roman glanced at Patton’s eyes. They were soft and forgiving, but all Roman could feel when looking at them was fear. He took this as his moment, spinning around on his heel and almost sprinting toward the fish aisle. Anywhere was better than being near Patton.
Roman looked at the walls of fish tanks with fish of all kinds of colors, watching them swim around as the filter’s bubbles reached the roof. There were some that were swimming around each other, and others that stopped in place for long periods of time. Roman held himself and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
It was more peaceful away from Patton, at least. Roman felt a little less sick and his hands weren’t shaking as badly, focusing on the fish to calm himself down. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it worked. That’s all Roman could really ask for.
He watched the fish swim around and read their species facts for a while, until he couldn’t feel tears in his eyes anymore and the nausea was tamed. Roman walked through the aisle to look at the fish tank decorations and other pet toys. He picked up a chew toy for a dog and squeaked it, awkwardly messing with the toys and trying to keep Patton in his peripheral vision. It felt odd to be standing around in a pet aisle with no plans of buying anything.
Well, Roman thought, Patton never told me I had to stay in this aisle. It was only a suggestion. I could move on to another part of the store.
Roman looked at where Patton was one more time so he could remember his spot. It seemed like he was checking the supply list on his phone and thinking hard about colored pencils, and Roman hoped he would be occupied with that for a while more. He walked out of the aisle and looked above him for ideas on where he should go next.
Bathroom, no. The bakery would be wonderful if I could buy a donut myself. Clothes, baby items, plants…wait! Roman’s eyes lit up as he read another one of the signs. Hardware!
Roman always loved searching through hardware. He was a craft person at heart, and the aisles always gave him ideas for new things to try and make. Besides, Patton told him they were going to look for decorations for his room, maybe he could get inspiration there!
Roman entered the hardware aisle and began to look around. Because this wasn’t a hardware store there wasn’t much, mostly small items like door hinges and hook sets. There was also a doorknob you could only open with a code that Roman wanted, but there was no way Patton would let him install that. But maybe he could find something else to make his room safer.
Roman passed some other items, including some lightbulbs and a security camera displaying the screen that made Roman shiver when he passed by, but eventually Roman saw it. Ideas swarmed in his head and a big grin bloomed onto his face. It was perfect!
“There you are, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the sound of Patton approaching, looking up to see him with a basket full of school supplies. Patton smiled to hide the worry in his eyes. “I noticed you left the other aisle and I didn’t know where to find you.”
Roman gripped harder onto the box he was holding. “Sorry, I got bored…but I found something I want for my room!”
“You did? What is it, kiddo?”
Roman held up the box to Patton. Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “…Curtain rods?”
“Yes! Sounds strange, I know, but I was thinking that I could make my own canopy bed with them! We could get some curtains and I could hang them up around the bed, and I could decorate the curtains to look beautiful! Please?”
Patton rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t know, kiddo…it sounds like a cool project! But you’d have to install them into the roof, and I’m not very good with a drill!”
“I can do it!” Roman begged, “I’ve installed lots of home stuff before, and I’m really good with tools! And if I mess up I promise I’ll fix any holes, or I’ll do some babysitting jobs to pay back anything that’s broken, just…please? Can I try?”
Patton seemed conflicted. He saw the desperate look in Roman’s eyes and sighed. “…You can try, kiddo. Just…don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work, okay?”
“I won’t be! Promise!” Roman grabbed three boxes of the largest curtain rods they had and tried to hold them under his arms. “Now, I just need some red curtains, and maybe some glittery star stickers, or some other craft supplies! And a hot glue gun, you can make beautiful raindrop decorations out of hot glue!”
Patton seemed like his head was spinning. “I’ll go get an actual cart for this, kiddo.”
And then, the hunt for supplies was on. Patton got a cart for Roman to pile the curtain rods on the bottom, failing to keep up with him as he ran from aisle to aisle searching for supplies for his ideas. All the curtains were too transparent for Roman’s liking, so he instead settled for a pack of red, flat sheets meant for a queen bed and a small pack of sewing supplies. Patton mentioned he had a glue gun at home, so Roman skipped that section of the crafts aisle and instead focused on some birthday decorations with crowns and stars as well as some stickers. The more Roman’s vision came into action, the more excited and bouncy he got.
With the opaque curtains, Roman thought, it doesn’t matter if he has a camera in my room or not. He won’t be able to see me sleep. And how cute, he won’t realize his mistake in letting me do this until it’s too late.
Roman was jumping on his heels at the thought. I’m a genius.
The checkout was long and the car ride was full of anticipation, but once Patton pulled into the driveway of the house, Roman opened the trunk and ran inside with all his items in tow. He didn’t even say hello as he ran past Virgil and Logan on the couch to head upstairs.
“Kiddo, do you want to organize supplies too?” Patton yelled once he entered the house.
“I will later!” Roman answered. He had work to do.
The first step was an experiment of patience. Roman took out all the flat sheets and folded them at the top, sewing the fold with a needle and red thread to make its own custom loop for the curtain rod. It was annoying and tedious, but necessary. Also a test on Roman’s skill of how fast he could hand sew.
He was almost done with the last sheet when a knock came to his door. “Who is it?” Roman asked.
“It’s lunch time, kiddo,” Patton answered, “I called you down a while ago. How about you take a break for some food?”
No. There was no time for breaks. Roman needed this to be done by tonight so he could finally get some sleep. “In a minute.”
“Roman, it’s been a while already. A little break won’t hurt.”
“I will in a minute!” It was a lie, but Roman had the door locked, so there was nothing Patton could do about it. Roman finished his final seam, so now it was onto installing the rods.
Roman was measuring where to put the hooks on the roof when another knock came to the door. Roman groaned like a spoiled brat. “I’m coming!”
“Roman, can you open the door?”
Roman froze. He just yelled at Patton, pushed his luck, now he had to open the door. Roman dropped the screw he was holding as his hands shaked. Shit, shit! “…Why?”
“I’ve got your lunch for you.”
Roman felt his throat close, but ignoring Patton would only make the situation worse. Roman dropped his hook and screws to open the door.
Patton was on the other side, smiling softly with a burrito on a plate and a glass of juice in his hands. “I had to reheat it, but maybe you can eat while you’re working.”
Roman dug his nails into his palm before taking the plate. “Thank you.”
“Can I come in?”
No. No, you can’t. You never can, ever. “…Sure.”
Roman scurried away from Patton to sit on his bed, drinking some of the juice and looking at what’s inside the burrito. Black beans, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, sour cream, onions, and green peppers. Roman took a bite and tried to calm himself by focusing on the taste.
“You like it?”
Roman nodded. “Never had this before.”
“It’s a black bean burrito. I found the recipe a few years ago, and I make them pretty often. Especially for growing kiddos.” Patton sat on the floor next to the mess Roman had laid out. “What are you doing now for your canopy bed?”
“I was gonna screw in the curtain hooks to the roof. I’ve just been sewing the sheets for now, which is the hardest part. I might have to sew them again though, since the sheets are so big I might have to cut them. Especially since I want to do two curtains on each end to make it look pretty.”
“Sounds cool! Do you need any help?”
Roman seemed to be thinking. Maybe if I satisfy him, he won’t be angry. “Do you know how to sew?”
“I know how to repair tears. That’s it.”
Roman took another bite of his burrito and jumped off the bed, picking up one of the sheets to examine the size. He jumped on his bed and held it up to the roof, seeing how far it would stretch. The sheet was much longer than his bed, so it would be perfect. “Take the sheets, measure them, and cut them in half right down the middle. Then I can show you how to do a catch stitch to hem the seam. That will save me some time.”
“You’re very good at hand stuff!” Patton complimented. A shiver went up Roman’s spine.
“…Yes.”
From then on, the environment was very tense. The only sound between either of them was the  drill going through the roof and the sound of scissors cutting. When Patton finished cutting, Roman showed him how to hem the seam, but it was quiet again after that. Roman kept his distance and made sure his front was always facing Patton just in case.
“I hope you don’t mind if this is a very messy sewing job, kiddo.” Patton joked.
Roman shrugged. “You won’t be able to see it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Are you gonna decorate the sheets once you’ve hung them up?”
“Yes, it’s easier that way. And I can plan it out.”
“Any reason why you chose crowns and stars?”
Roman paused long enough to drill another hook into the roof before setting the drill down to grab another hook. “I like crowns. And stars.”
“Logan loves stars.” Patton really hated silence, apparently. “I don’t know if the other kiddos showed you their rooms, but Logan’s is covered in space stuff. It was really fun to do, actually! Though, I made Logan paint the stars onto his own wall because he kept talking about how it should be accurate constellations, and I don’t know anything about stuff like that.”
“I’ve only seen Virgil’s room.”
“Oh, well, if Logan ever invites you in, know that he did lots of work for his constellation wall!”
Roman hummed and drilled the last hook into the roof. He took a curtain rod and placed it on the two hooks near the foot of his bed. “How many of the sheets have you finished?”
“Oh, I’m still on the first one. I’m learning though!”
Roman jumped off the bed to sit on the floor next to Patton, grabbing his own needle and thread to begin hemming the seam. Once he started sewing, Patton watched him with wide eyes. “You’re doing that very fast, kiddo!”
Roman shrugged. “I’ve done it a lot.”
“What do you usually sew for?”
“Clothes. To fix rips, mostly. My mom also taught me when I was younger.”
Patton seemed taken aback by his explanation. “Did…did you enjoy that time with your mom?”
“I enjoyed all my time with her.” Roman paused. “Well. Most times.”
Patton swallowed. “Most times?”
“Her and I were really close, if that’s what you're asking.” Roman’s hands sped up as he sewed. “She would take me to movies and theaters, and she taught me how to bake as good as her.”
Patton’s voice grew serious. “Well…I’m sorry for your loss, kiddo.”
“She’s not dead.”
“I’m still sorry you lost her.” Patton shook his head and focused more intently on his sewing. “But you said you can bake?”
Roman nodded. “I bake a lot, especially cake. I know how to make red velvet cake from scratch and it is lovely.”
“We should make some tomorrow, then!”
Roman tensed. “Maybe.”
Roman finished off the hem of his side and moved to cut another sheet, hemming both of their sides once he did so. The rest of the time was quiet, with Roman purposely refusing to spark conversation and Patton processing the little information Roman gave him. By the time Patton finished one end and half of another, Roman had finished all the rest and took Patton’s to quickly finish off. Roman laid them all across the floor and opened the packs of crafts he got.
“Well, kiddo, I gotta see about making dinner now.” Patton eventually said, “Tell me how the end project turns out, ‘kay?”
Roman nodded. Finally, he’s leaving. “Close the door when you leave.”
Patton smiled and closed the door on his way out. Roman focused entirely on decorating his new curtains, placing glittery stars and plastic crowns and using the hot glue gun to make crystals draping down the curtains. He repeated a similar pattern for each one, eventually hanging two on each side of the bed so they could open and close down the middle. Once the final project was finished, and the floor of his room was scattered in materials, Roman smiled wide in awe.
“Yes! I did it! I did it!” Roman jumped up and down from excitement, flopping onto his bed and closing the curtains from every side. The curtains were a bit too long and dragged too much along the floor, but he could fix that another day. For now, he’d been at it for hours, and his bed was finally a safe space.
Roman buried his face into his pillow, feeling himself relax as the exhaustion of a whole day with no sleep and debilitating anxiety finally caught up to him. He groggily checked for any cameras on the roof, but that was the only place he had to check for a camera that could see him. He was safe.
 Roman crawled under the comforter and closed his eyes. It wasn’t more than five minutes of lying there before he fell asleep, curling into himself and relaxing. Finally, he slept peacefully.
 Finally.
175 notes · View notes
nattyslover · 3 years
Text
two wise unknown people
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picture NOT mine credit: @castielbarnes
loki x gn!reader
f l u f f
warnings: loki episode 3 spoilers!!, mistakes?
wc: 2k
Today has been a hectic day so far. First started off with a few minute-men,Mobius and Loki alongside you going to Alabama 2050 to try to catch the variant in an apocalypse but went downhill when you got enchanted by the variant and then got passed out. The only thing you can remember was being picked up bridal style and carried through a portal going to the TVA. Once Loki followed the variant and ended up in the TVA he gently woke you up telling you to follow him. Loki grabbed his daggers from the locker hunter b-15 stored.
Following Loki through the halls of the TVA, minute-men on the ground passed out, or they looked passed out. When you caught up with the variant, Loki and her started to fight. Loki got thrown, you tried to stop her before she killed him. Throwing a few punches here and there, and dodging a few you wrapped your legs around her neck and flipped her to the ground were you grabbed Loki’s dagger and brought it to her throat leaving her defenseless. out of breath you opened your mouth to say something but was interrupted by Ravonna and two minute men on both of her sides with those look alike glow sticks. While you looked up at Ravonna, the variant got a hold of the dagger and flipped you on the group about to stab you but Loki came up from behind her and got the TemPad and opened another portal underneath all of you and fell through.
You ended up on a moon called Lamentis-1 2077 where a planet was going to destroy everything and everyone. The TemPad is dead and needs to be charged but in order to charge it, it needs to have a lot of energy. You found out the variant is now named Sylvie or wants to be called that. You still didn’t trust her since she tried to kill you multiple times but yet again you fell in love with a man just like that. You found out that there is an ark where people are getting on in order to escape this coming disaster. You will have to take a train to get there.
Loki disguised himself to look like one of the men guards and took you and Sylvie as “hostages” to Shuroo by orders. One of the men in charge of looking at tickets wasn’t buying all of that and just as your cover was about to be blown, Sylvie touched his arm and enchanted him so you could board the train. And that’s how you ended up here, on the train going to the ark to charge the TemPad to get back to the TVA.
The doors slowly opened, and stepping inside the train there were people that you could tell were high class. The walls were green and there was a small bar in the middle and all around the room were tables with booths. “Good evening, passengers. Hi.” Loki said to everyone while still holding you and Sylvie by the arms. Sylvie sits down in a booth, and you follow by sitting on the opposite side of her.
“Um-“ Loki starts hesitantly, “Uh look, I can't go backwards on a train.” You snickered at that trying to cover it with a cough. Loki looks at you glaring but with a small smile rolling his eyes before Sylvie starts to talk.
“Well, I never sit with my back to the door.” She says, turning her head away.
You scoff, “what? there are doors on both sides.” Loki said, looking around.
“Oh, just sit down.” you told Loki, grabbing his arm and yanking him to your side.
There was little silence before Sylvie spoke up. “FYI that wasn’t even a plan.”
“Oh really?” replied Loki. “plans have multiple steps, dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing.” said Sylvie with a scoff.
Loki shifts his jaw, and about to open his mouth but is interrupted by you.
“Oh, are you a bit tired? feel free to, you know, get some rest.” you tell Sylvie after you see her yawning.
She glared at you before grunting and rolling her eyes. “I can't sleep in a place like this.”
“You can’t sleep on a train.?'' Loki asks. “No, I can’t sleep around untrustworthy people.” she replies leaning over the table staring Loki right in the eye. “Oh right, is that me?” “You feel free to take a nap.” “No you can.” “I already told you I can't.” “Right because untrustworthy people.” you had enough of their bickering.
“Shut it!” you whispered and shouted at the pair. they both stopped and looked at you. ”Just shut it.” you tell them again before leaning back and taking a deep breath.
Sylvie looks out the window while Loki keeps staring at you. “What?” he doesn’t respond, he just keeps looking at you. “Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask. He just smiles and taps his shoulder, motioning for you to lay your head on him. You comply and lay your head on his shoulder while he grabs one of your hands and holds it under the table before he kisses your head.
Seconds later you fall into a deep slumber. Loki looks down at you with a loving smile thinking how lucky he is to have you even if your relationship isn’t a romantic one. He tore his gaze from you to Sylvie, “So, where’d you learn to do the..” Loki motioning his hands while he speaks. “You know, the… whatever i-“ “I taught myself” Sylvie interrupted Loki, knowing what he’s asking.
Loki's eyes went wide. “You taught yourself?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yeah I did.”Sylvie replied, shaking her head.
“Do you just go into their minds and project some sort of illusion?”
“It’ll be easier if i just-“ bringing her hands to Loki’s head.
“Enchant me and take the TemPad and lead me out of the train? No thank you.” Loki tells her slapping her hands away but being careful so he doesn’t wake you.
“Well then don’t ask.” Sylvie leans back with an emotionless expression.
“You almost woke up y/n by the way.” Loki informs her, looking down at you sleeping still.
“Did not.” “Did to” “Did not” “Did to” “Not” “To” “Not” “T-“ they were interrupted by you stirring a little bit while still asleep. Loki let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding before getting the last word in. “Did to.”
A lady comes by the table a few seconds later asking if anyone wants champagne. “Champagne?”
“Ah yes, thank you very much.” Loki says to the lady without hesitation.
The lady moves over to Sylvie where she replies with a dull answer, “No i’m good thanks” with no emotion.
“Oh i’ll take hers, thank you” Loki grabs the other glass of champagne and with that the lady walks away. Sylvie looks at Loki with a raised eyebrow, questioning him.
“For y/n when they wake up” Loki says knowing what Sylvie was asking about.
“Cheers,” Loki says, clinking the two glasses together, “To the end of the world.” Loki takes a sip.
“I pity the old woman who chose to die, don’t you think?”
“She was in love.”
“Mmm-, she hated him”
“Maybe love is hate” Sylvie replies back smirking.
Loki conjures a quill and paper. “What was that? ‘love is… love is hate.’”
“Oh, piss off!”
Loki makes the items disappear before going back to the subject of love while pouring your glass of champagne to his.
“Is there a lucky beau waiting for you at the end of this crusade?” Loki asks while raising the glass to his lips.
“Yeah there is actually.” She responds easily.
“Oh,” Loki takes a sip.
“Managed to maintain a quite a serious long-distance relationship with a postman while running across time from one apocalypse to the another.” Sylvie says sarcastically.
Loki chuckles lightly, “Witch charm like that who could resist you?” Loki jokes.
Sylvie smiles a little looking down before looking up at Loki, “How about you? wait, don't answer that you have y/n.”
Loki's eyes went wide,“What? I-I dont- me and y/n we aren’t together.” Loki is a stuttering mess.
“You aren’t? Really? I don't buy that.” Sylvie says slightly surprised. “Y’all are practically in love with each other, I keep catching you staring at them and vice versa. Y’all have the love look in your guys eyes when one looks at the other, quite frankly it’s sickening.” Sylvie says, gagging a little but smiling.
Loki turns red after he hears that. Has he really been that obvious of his staring problem? Has he really been that oblivious to not notice you staring at him? Do you know he stares at you? Do you feel the same as him? No you couldn’t possibly feel the same- could you?
Loki's brain was hurting from overthinking and asking himself over and over again if there is a chance you could feel the same as he does for you. Loki takes a deep breath before looking at you then back up at sylvie.
“Why don’t you tell them?” Sylvie asks before he has a chance to speak.
Loki thinks for a moment, remembering something he read that stuck with him, “‘Friendship Or Love... It's really hard to choose, though sometimes friendship ends in love. If romance ends, it's hard to return to friendship.’ but also ‘Over thinking ruins you, ruins the situation, twists things around and just makes everything much worse than what it actually is’ do you know the two people who said that?”
Sylvie shakes her head no. “Two wise unknown people said that. Not knowing that their words would relate to almost everyone who is in love with their best friend but doesn’t want to ruin the friendship if something happens.” Loki is rubbing his thumb on your hand looking down at your sleeping figure. “To answer your question ‘why don’t I tell them?’ it’s because I overthink and because I don’t want to ruin something so great just because I want something more. I would rather stay friends forever than get into a relationship not knowing if it will last forever.” Loki says honestly.
Sylvie doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and just looks between you and Loki. “That's with every relationship.” Loki looks up, encouraging her to continue. “Whether it's friendship or a romantic relationship you don’t know if it will last forever. no one does.” Sylvie laughs a little , “Not even the time keepers. you know why? because they can’t decide your future for you, no one can, only you.”
“The timekeepers know everything.”
“Do they? Then why are you here? They didn’t know you would change the timeline and come here did they? The time keepers didn’t plan on having you at the TVA. So who says they know everyone's futures? Because from the looks of it, they don’t know everything that happens in the future.” Sylvie finished with a sigh.
Loki stares at Sylvie, surprised that they had this conversation with each other even though not even 24 hours ago they were trying to kill each other and now they are talking about love and being honest and open.
Sylvie shakes her head before clearing her throat, “I need to get rest so you do your thing and i’ll do mine got it?” Loki nods and Sylvie gets comfortable and closes her eyes.
Loki just sits there looking at you before him, getting comfortable himself with your head still on his shoulder, closing his eyes and letting rest take over him in a matter of seconds.
You open your eyes looking at Sylvie before looking at Loki, slightly shocked because of two things. One they had a full conversation that didn’t include any arguing or childlike behavior and two you just heard your best friend talk about his love for you.
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daimonhalos · 3 years
Text
Appreciation post for the eggpire and more during the red banquet cause I'm not seeing enough love for how well they organized and delivered and because I'm so proud of cc!Bad for how far the Bloodvines arc has gone ♥ (this stuff is from Bad's vod btw)
Also something to cheer people up a bit in case the lore got u hard like it got me cause I'm still not okay bestie <3
The starting soon screen being an animation (with glitches to show another frame!!) plus the jazzy electro-swing soundtrack underneath. Just such a good intro, I felt like I was actually in the waiting line for an event, just awesome.
Ponk. Just Ponk, dapper man, handsome Ponk just standing there. Gorgeous, thank you, standing ovation, I love him.
Just everything Bad and Ant did with the building of the room, the stairs!! The coat room!!! The statues right in front of the table, everything looked SO pretty.
ANT MY BELOVED LOOKING HANDSOME AS ALWAYS I just loved all their outfits. The banquet's skins just SLAPPED HARD.
The little moment where Bad changed view of his character and we could see him, Ant and Ponk cwc
Bad singing >>>>>>>>>>
Everyone getting lost despite the oak signs
THE ARC ABOVE THE DANCEFLOOR, WHAT THE HELL YOO
Bad complimenting everyone on their outfits and giving out some gapples here and there
Bad also always repeating the same catchphrases
Sam just drinking copiously and the dumpy situation
People actually dancing + HBomb being the dj
Puffy walking around Bad to see his outfit and complimenting him, just felt like their old friendship cwc
FOOLISH GAVE BAD A FLOWER <3
Bad scolding George for not wearing an outfit (Sam's "his name is Gogy and he is beautiful")
"It's almost time for the feast. It's gonna be delicious." the foreshadowing
Everyone dancing together cwc
"minecraft dancing is speed squats" eret ilu
Bad and Ant complimenting moment ♥
The eggpire all on the same side of the table. Them
Ponk's little "Hello!" after Bad said he made the soup, plus everyone going "good job!!" just twt
When Bad started asking if anyone wanted to give a toast, I realized eventually that this was more of a disguised "Want to say your last words before death?" and it now sounds s o freaking cool. ye s
P O N K 'S S P E E C H
"you look beautiful right now" sam i will cry
When in the middle of his speech, Bad turns to Ant who's already looking at him, nods, Ant nods back, and as Bad turns around again we can see Ant walking away from his seat. I am OBSESSED with this scene, like you already know something is about to go down and oh gosh it was delivered so good
THE LAVA COMING DOWN FROM THE CEILING AS BAD KEPT TALKING, NONE NOTICING, HIM TALKING ABOUT HOW THE BANQUET WILL BE UNFORGETTABLE. SO HOT
"And yeah! Thank you for coming everybody" the little mischievous giggles right after "And prepare uh ... yep. Prepare to die." AND THEN HE FUCKIGN DRINKS FROM HIS GLASS LIKE COME ON YOU CANT BE ANY COOLER THAN THAT YOOO
"The leaf is staying the way it is" you can hear the laughter in his voice like HAH GOTTEM that's so good
Bad still giving Hbomb gapples cwc
"Where you looking for this perchance?" AND THEN EQUIPS THE ENTIRE ARMOR AND WEAPONS E Y E when the twists started dude. this si where the twists started and never ended
HANNAH CROSSING SIDES AND SIDING WITH THE EGGPIRE. QUEEN SHIT that was such a cool moment for her i'm so glad she's getting her moment
The eggpire laughing, just pure villainy, love them
"Time to get on the main event" the nonchalance. The way they equipped the crossbows and readied the arrows at the same time. B r u h fucking awesome they are
The eggpire faking being afraid when Sam was talking about blowing the egg up. Sad that we already knew about the obsidian thing, but still made it a very cool scene. Especially right after when they started laughing at them again. I don't know what it is about it but I love them being so sassy.
FREAKING EXECUTIONS THEY WORKED FOR MASS EXECUTIONS they were able to trap all those freaking people!! And trick them and counter attack all the time! what the fuck, I'm so impressed
Thank you Fundy for sounding super terrified /gen ♥
Wait ahah they really said EGGSECUTION-
THE EGG HATCHES THE EGG HATCHES THE EGG HATCHES im not saying IT but im saing Velvet
"Follow me! Follow me!" HANNAH SOUNDED SO ENTHUSIASTIC i love
"We trusted you!" "Well, that was your first mistake-" THE WAY BAD WAS ABOUT TO LAUGH. DUDE they definitely had so much fucking fun making this
sassyboyhalo
Foolish acting thank u ily. Also the thunder not working what the heck i wanna know what was going on inside his mind right then he sounded so lost. THE ACTING
"Sacrifice!" Hannah idk how to say this but I love you
ANT MOMENTTTT
When puffy called them selfish i was expecting bad to just do a huge double take. I wanted him to snap immediately PLEASE SNAP-
BAD DELIVERING AGAIN WITH THE AMAZING ACTING
"Not just for the egg but for what the egg is going to give us" he's so desperately trying to make them udnerstand it promised him his friend back he literally mentions it every single time but everyone calls him selfish because they think he wants power when he just wants skeppy's friendship back in this essay I will- Anyway yes I love that he never explicitly says it because it kills us viewers with pain cause we KNOW and then the reveal will be 100 times more powerful. This is so awesome
"I can't stop Quackity and you know why I can't stop. If I stop I can't get what I need." his voice grew so much lower like he's just holding back MAN I HH IT WAS SO GOOD
SECRET RETREAT ROOM YOOO
Ponk giving Bad some food and telling him to stay safe, Bad telling both Hannah and Ponk to stay safe too. My tears
And now the solo Bad lore part, where we actually see the true part of him that's absolutely devastated and makes me cry, the way he acted all confident and then saw everything crumble in a few seconds and now he's destroyed again because what if they find a way to destroy the egg what then? what if he never gets skeppy back? dude, you can just read his emotions it's so sad and i love how it was portrayed
"I know where I can go. I know who I can see!" BDI REF BDI REF FOR SURE I have a feeling that's going to be explained in the next lore stream with Skeppy and I'm so hype. I love the little crumbs of references here and there.
"But now they have it.." he sounded so broken??? bad your acting please ill cry
"I didn't really want to hurt anybody" his true self trying to get back cwc especially because he's farther away from the egg. I just love the transition between the guy Bad portrays who's so sure about the egg when it's in front of others and the doubts and anxiety he actually has when he's alone. Just so cool
"Did I screw up?" im just pointing out everything that moves me emotionally cause these people's acting is so cool
Ending the stream with simple black background my beloved
Okay but really I'm so so so proud of the ccs for making this happen and it's only going upwards, I'm literally so in awe, they really said go big or go home
Free space for Ant's villain speech I wasn't able to hear yet, but they said it was v cool, so I'm trusting people on this
Thank you for listening, stan Bloodvines arc /hj
If I made typos no I didn't
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ptergwen · 3 years
Note
Hi can u do where like arvin grandma takes him to church and he meets a ‘nice’ girl but really she’s kinda like him and he finds her smoking behind the church thanks
angel
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w/c: 1.4k
warnings: swearing, smoking, and suggestive themes
a/n: alright i went overboard this is pretty long 😭 sooo enjoy
-
“grandma, do i really have to-“
“you’ll come say hi to her. she’s a real sweetheart, arvin,” emma pats her grandson’s hand, which she’s leading him by through their pew to yours. she’s been gushing about you all week.
your parents and her ran into each other while buying groceries, and they spoke for a bit. about upcoming town events, about the heat, about their families. you and arvin of course came up. judging by how lovely your parents are, emma had a feeling you’d be the same. that sparked her idea to introduce arvin to you.
she likes the thought of arvin hanging around a nice girl. she’d wanted the same for her own son, although it didn’t quite work out. it’s only a matter of time before she’s pimping lenora out to a pearly white smiling church boy.
“you say that about everyone, grandma,” arvin sighs, lighthearted but with a hint of annoyance. he’s not so sure he’s into nice girls. or, that nice girls would be into him. no offense to you because his grandma has been talking you up, and you do sound great, but maybe not for him.
emma puts on her best smile as the two of them approach you. “just say hi, won’t you? give her a chance.” “alright, if that’s what you want,” arvin mumbles back, running his now free hand through his hair. your mom gasps in pleasant surprise. “oh, emma. wonderful to see you again,” she greets, you and your dad standing up so she can get over.
the women hug while arvin stands there, disguising an eye roll for a look up at the ceiling. you squint at him and smirk to yourself. you’re intrigued.
your parents had mentioned something about you meeting a boy, your mom more enthusiastic than your dad. he wasn’t too on board with it. he’d said the “russell boy” had a reputation, said he was rowdy and whatnot. that was meant to scare you and your mother off. she dismissed it, and your interest was only piqued.
“yes, dear, so wonderful,” emma agrees, grinning at your dad over your mom’s shoulder. he takes a step towards her, making small talk. “how’s it going?” you watch arvin while the three of them catch up. he’s got his hands in his pockets and a clenched jaw. he doesn’t look particularly thrilled to be here. not at church or in your pew.
you snicker at him, and he snaps his head in your direction. the movement is sharp, yet somehow subtle. you’d been expecting the kid to bounce off the walls from how your dad described him. he actually seems pretty quiet. intimidating, yet quiet. it’s hot.
arvin catches a small smile from you. he nods in response, then shifts his attention back to his grandma when she nudges him.
“remember i was telling you about my grandson?” emma asks your parents, both of them affirming. she glances over at you. “this is arvin.” “hi, nice to meet you,” he drawls and extends a hand for your mom and dad to shake. your mom keeps it short and polite. your dad does it with a firm grip, one that arvin matches.
“strong boy,” he comments. “oh, you think so?” arvin jokes back. that earns a glare from your dad, who perceives it as him having an attitude. you take it upon yourself to say hi to arvin next. one, because you aren’t liking the tension. two, because you want to.
you step past your dad so you’re in front of arvin. “i’m y/n,” you say with another smile. “arvin. nice to meet you.” he sticks out his hand again, which you ignore, going straight for a hug. he’s not sure where that came from. either way, he hugs you back by your waist. you lean in to whisper in his ear.
“you wanna get out of here?” he’d fucking love to. he already promised lenora he wouldn’t sneak out of service again, though. “can’t. my sister’ll kill me for it,” arvin murmurs back, you pulling out of his arms. he finds himself disappointed by the absence of your body. your parents and emma are back in their own conversation, so you can speak freely.
“aw, cute. you’ve got a sister. you listen to her?” you’re teasing, a glint in your eyes. you don’t seem like the sweetheart his grandma made you out to be. arvin likes that. “she’s a...” he lets out a breath, trying to come up with a way to describe lenora’s love for church. “you know, this stuff’s important to her.”
“not you?” you wonder, clasping your hands behind your back. “nope. i reckon you’re the same,” arvin hums and scratches his gelled hair. “listen, how about i meet you out back later? nice girls go to church, don’t they?” he throws the last part in to flirt. you pick up on it, poking at his chest and lowering your voice. “who says i’m a nice girl?”
“come on, y/n/n. service is about to start,” your dad interrupts, taking you by your wrist before you can protest. “see you later,” you call to arvin. “yeah, see you.” he grins as him and emma walk back to their pew, where lenora is anxiously waiting for them. they’ll grill him about how he likes you later. right now is the lord’s time.
your words ring in arvin’s head the whole time the reverend drones on about whatever he does. so, you’re not a nice girl. he can’t wait to find out what that means.
when the service ends, lenora and emma line up to speak with the reverend and everyone else waiting. arvin sets off to find you. you’re the only two not still in there, so it shouldn’t be hard. he heads out the back door because he doesn’t want anyone, meaning your dad, to see him.
you’re leaned against the building with a cigarette between your fingers, puffing out a cloud of smoke just as arvin spots you. your lips turn up in a half smile when you take another drag off of it.
“there you are,” you speak, words muffled from the cigarette. you retrieve a box of matches from the waistband of your skirt and dangle it before him. “need a light?” you’d noticed a pack stuffed into his jeans earlier. he’s not so good at hiding them, if he was even trying to. you could teach him a thing or two about being more lowkey.
arvin pulls a cigarette from his pack and shoves it into his mouth. “didn’t take you to be a smoker,” he rasps as you strike the match up, bringing it to his cigarette. you then throw it on the ground and stomp it out with a knowing smile. “i told you, i’m not what you thought i was. whatever my mom told your grandma.”
“mm,” he confers, breathing in and taking the cigarette from his mouth to exhale. “heard you were a straight a’s student. you’re in lots of clubs and all that.” you scoff, bringing your own cigarette to your lips again, further blurring his good girl image of you. “when i cross out the d’s and lie, sure.” arvin chuckles at that and leans back against the stone wall.
“you’re not like your family one bit, huh?” he already knows you aren’t. “nope. i think they’re the reason i’m like this, anyway,” you admit, fingers innocently circling over his bicep. innocently. “i’m doing the whole rebel without a cause thing.” your hand squeezes at his arm, waving out your cigarette and dropping it in the grass.
“what about you? my dad said you’re a fighter.” arvin clears his throat and looks down at your feet. they’re moving, closer to him. “sometimes, for my sister. i was tellin’ you she’s different from the other kids. they pick on her.” that gives you a new sort of admiration for arvin. you thought he was cool, now you think he’s also kind. he thinks you’re... beyond words. in a good way.
“sounds like you’ve got a good heart to me.” you press your fingers into his skin, this time with a smile that’s sweet. he isn’t sure if he prefers this one or the one that has something sinister behind it. “well, thank you,” arvin drops his hand to your hip, adding on, “angel.” he’s well aware of what he’s doing by calling you that name. you click your tongue.
“angel? mhm, i’ll change your mind about that.”
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biisexualemma · 3 years
Text
second best. cesar diaz
word count: 1642
warnings: alcohol abuse and lots of tears
requested: uh no another one from the archives
plot: cesar always picks monse over you
a/n: wow am i actually posting an imagine for an omb character that isn’t oscar???? pls note **all characters are of age** thank u hope u like
masterlist
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you stumbled forward, tripping over your own feet on the way to the bathroom. jasmine, grabbed your arm, stopping your from falling flat on your face. you were such a mess. you didn't think you'd ever been that drunk before. but once you'd started you couldn't slow down.
jasmine had been keeping an eye on you all night, making sure you didn't get into any trouble but it was hard. you were all over the place. dancing. drinking. sitting. talking. you moved around quicker than she could keep up with. you were trying to forget about him, she knew that, so she let you drink yourself silly. but she didn't want you to get hurt in the process. you were pretty emotionally unstable.
he'd chosen her over you again. story of your life. you loved monse, which made it even harder for you to be mad at her. cesar on the other hand, you were ready to throw hands in you saw him again tonight. he played around with you so much it hurt. you'd been crushing on him for so long and he showed signs too. but he always chose monse over you. you could never compete. it broke your heart.
hence the alcohol.
but it was catching up with you. you entered the bathroom, jasmine quickly pulling your hair out of your face and tying it back. you were now kneeling on the bathroom floor with your head in the toilet as you threw up everything that was in your system.
tears formed in your eyes when you slumped back against the bath, wiping the sides of your mouth. you were a mess. "i just don't understand," you cried softly. jasmine wrapped her arm around you, letting you rest your head on her shoulder. she was a good friend, no matter what anyone said. "why doesn't he want me?"
she shushed you, tightening her grip on you as you cried into her shoulder. "he doesn't deserve you. mami, you deserve so much better than him," she tried to reassure you. you knew she was right. but this was cesar, he'd been your friend for years, there was no one better than him. he was the nicest guy you knew. he always walked you home, helped you study, hung out with you when you were sad. he did all of this and more but he would never choose you over monse. you didn't want him to pick anyone over anyone. you just wanted him to pick you.
he'd always made it seem that he felt more for you than just a friend, he treated you different to how he treated his other friends. it made no sense. you cried out of frustration. you felt pretty battered and weak at this point, you just wanted to go home.
you sniffled, composing yourself after you'd let yourself have a good cry. you needed that. you needed to get it all out.
"hey—" your head snapped to the unlocked bathroom door, where ruby and jamal now stood after barging in. they must have seen you and jasmine come in here earlier. "woah— what happened?" their demeanours both changed quickly when they saw your sad face and jasmine glaring at them to watch what they said.
"nothing," you wiped under your eyes, though it was hard to disguise what had happened. you stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. your mascara had smudged under your puffy eyes and your cheeks were pink and wet. you sighed. "i'm gonna go home."
jasmine handed you a wipe, and you began cleaning yourself up. you suddenly felt incredibly sober. you wiped under your eyes, and took off the little makeup you had on. you splashed your face with cold water and downed some mouthwash. you didn't think ruby would mind since this was his house.
"y'sure you don't wanna talk about it?" jamal piped up. they had all stood outside while you got yourself together. you nodded upon exiting the bathroom. "we can walk you home."
you shook your head. "it's ok. i need to be by myself."
"ok. i get it. but you can be by yourself with us, girl, 'cause you're not walking yourself home. it's late,” jasmine chimed in. ruby and jamal agreed, and soon enough they were all walking you back to your house. they all chattered, trying to take your mind off things but you remained in a quiet little bubble, drowning out any noise they were making. you appreciated them doing this but you weren't up to talking. you just wanted to get home and climb into bed.
"hey—" you'd been so in a daze you hadn't noticed cesar walking towards you guys. he was puffed out, like he'd been running here. he glanced at you quickly, his eyebrows furrowing slightly when he saw your face. but he quickly averted his attention back to the group. "did i miss the party already?" he joked.
ruby explained that they were walking you home, not giving any further details. "you can go to the house. we'll be back soon."
"uh— no— i'll come with," you all continued walking to your house. you remained silent. you couldn't look at him again. you could already feel yourself getting worked up.
you felt a hand touch your arm, pulling you back from the group who carried on walking. jasmine gave you a quick glance to make sure you were good. you gave her a reassuring nod before turning to see cesar in front of you.
"are you ok?" he furrowed his eyebrows again. his concern becoming immediate now he'd pulled you from the rest of the group. as best as you had tried to clean yourself up, you couldn't control your pink cheeks and puffy eyes. but you really didn't wanna talk about it, especially with him.
"fine," you nodded. you carried on walking with him beside you now. your voice was a little groggy but you cleared your throat hoping he wouldn't notice. "how's monse?"
"you sure?" he was watching you as you walked next to him, trying not to look at him for too long. "you're quiet."
you just nodded. "you didn't answer my question."
he was confused. "she's— she's fine. something came up with her mom— but i don't understand— have you been crying?" he grabbed your arm, stopping you from walking. you ducked your head.
"i don't wanna talk about it—"
you tried to walk on but he grabbed your hand quickly pulling you back. "no— wait— tell me what happened— please,” he squeezed your hand tight, still holding on. he looked you over, not seeing any obvious signs that you were hurt. something must of happened, he thought, it hurt to see you like this. you were pretty strong person usually, you didn't cry very often and never in front of anyone.
"i said i don't wanna talk about it, cesar."
"hey," he used his free hand to touch your chin, tilting your head up so you would look at him. "you can tell me anything."
you shook your head, taking a step backwards. you pulled your hand away from his, you felt tears brimming your eyes. you wanted to hate him so badly for making you this demented. he doesn't deserve you, you repeated to yourself. but it made no difference, it still hurt.
"it's not fair," you whimpered. cesar's face contorted from a look of confusion, to hurt. he just wanted to help. "you know i love you, cesar— you know it," your eyebrows knitted, trying to stop yourself from crying again. he really hurt you. nothing mattered at this point. none of the secrecy. "and i can't hang around waiting for you to pick me."
"what?" was all he said. he tried to reach out but you flinched away. you didn't want him to reel you in again, this was his last chance. "pick you?"
"i can't be second best to monse for the rest of my life," his face softened. he understood. "if you want to be with her, please just tell me instead of stringing me along like this," it hurt watching you talk like this. a couple stray tears had slipped from your eyes but you quickly wiped them away.
he just stared at you for a moment, careful as to what he was going to say. "it's always been you," he shook his head, stepping closer to you. you didn't move. "monse and i are just friends. we've been through a lot together— but y/n— you're it. you're before anyone else. i promise."
you took a deep shaky breath in. it was everything you'd ever wanted to hear from him but you couldn't ignore the facts. "tonight— i wanted you here but you chose monse over me."
he frowned. "she needed me—"
"i needed you, cesar."
he was quiet. he couldn't ignore the tears in your eyes that were falling frequently now.
"hey— please— don't cry—" he gulped. he thought if you cried anymore that he might start crying. he wrapped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his chest before you could pull away. you sunk into his chest, letting him wrap both arms around you tightly. "i'm sorry— i didn't realise you needed me tonight— i really— i'm sorry."
"i don't wanna hurt you, y/n," he tucked his face into your neck. "i care about you."
you sniffled, pulling away slightly to look up at him. "then don't make me feel like this again— i hate it." you wiped under your eyes again, sniffling as you calmed down a bit.
"never again," he tightened his grip on you. "promise,” he meant it too. nothing hurt more than seeing you so upset over something he'd done to you unknowingly. "love you," he mumbled, pressing his lips atop your head.
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