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ckret2 · 5 months

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On chapter 30 of The Writer Uses Misleading Graphics To Trick You Into Looking At This Fic About Human Bill Being The Shack's Prisoner: Summerween part 2! Bill wheedles Mabel into helping him make a costume. Mabel wheedles Bill into spilling some of his preciously-guarded secret backstory. Ford is kind of in awe.

Also there's like 4.5 drawings in this chapter. They're all very silly drawings.

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Bill wouldn't tell Mabel what his costume was—"I want to see who can guess it"—but all it needed was a brown bedsheet, a long red wig, cardboard (to be drawn upon), and flip-flop sandals.

The bedsheet was the easiest to acquire. Dipper's barely-worn brown sandals were just slightly too big for Bill but Mabel helped tie them on with yarn. the shack's cardboard supplies were still depleted from making Bill's triangle mask, but they could make do with paper and popsicle sticks. Mabel didn't have a red wig but she did have a blonde wig and red markers. Since Bill was, by his own reporting, terrible at drawing, Mabel offered to do the fancy artwork if Bill did the tedious task of recoloring the wig. He claimed he'd feel like a mortician putting makeup on a car wreck victim, but nevertheless accepted the deal, and they settled in around the living room table to get to work.

"So just a bunch of houses, right?" Mabel asked, starting on the first drawing.

"Ancient Greek-looking houses," Bill said. "So, marble and columns. Don't think too hard about the details—this is a 21st century American costume holiday, not a historical reenactment. You can slap columns on anything and call it 'Greek' and every human in town will buy it."

"Do ancient Greek houses have chimneys?"

"No," Bill said. "But adding one would be funny."

Mabel considered that, weighed up the value of historical accuracy against entertainment value, and decided giving one house a chimney would be funny. She gave the whole house a thick black outline in marker, and pulled out crayons in black, white, and whale blue to quickly add some light shading to the marble.

Mabel didn't think she'd ever seen Bill focus so hard or so quietly on anything the way he did on coloring that old wig red. He was giving it more attention than he did his own hair: while his golden locks were a tangled, uncombed, soggy mass shoved dismissively over his shoulders, he was dying the cheap wig (and his fingertips) strand by plastic strand with the bright-eyed morbid fascination of a third grader studying a pack of ants as they disassembled a bird's corpse.

This was the longest she'd been around Bill without conversation—usually, you couldn't even walk into a room without him immediately chattering at you like the motion-activated animatronics at the Summerween store. It was hard to think around him. Bill didn't give you room to think.

What did Mabel think about Bill?

He was right, she was still mad about the mall. No—mad wasn't the right word—mad was his word—she was scared. She'd never really stopped being scared of him, if she was honest with herself. But everything he'd done that day, from tricking her into trapping herself to reminding her of almost dying, had just reinforced why she should fear him.

But. She thought he felt bad about it. And she didn't think she'd ever seen him feel bad about anything before.

Maybe that meant her experiment was working. Maybe he was changing. Yeah, he was still scary—but he was Bill Cipher, he had a lot of scariness to work through. He was moving in the right direction, and she wanted to encourage that.

He hadn't apologized for the mall; but, since he'd tried to make up for it at the time, and that was a sort of apologetic action, Mabel decided she could tentatively forgive him for that day—provided he continued to improve. Put him on forgiveness probation. And that meant they were on friendly speaking terms again.

Which was good, because the quiet was starting to get uncomfortable. She surveyed her art for something they could talk about.

After a couple of as-historically-accurate-as-she-could-imagine houses, Mabel had started varying up the designs by redesigning houses she could remember off the top of her head with columns and white marble. She'd made a stately marble Mystery Shack, and a columned-covered doppelgänger of the house with the terraced yard across the street at home, and then she'd decided to make a Greek-ish version of her own home. "Hey Bill. Have you ever seen my house?"

"In person? No. But it came up from time to time in you kids' dreams, so whether I've seen it depends on how accurate you think your dreams are," he said. "It has less plants and more windows in your brother's dreams than in yours."

Mildly disturbing answer, but not disturbing in the direction she'd expected. "What! You mean you haven't haunted our neighborhood or anything? I don't believe it."

"Do you think I spend all my time stalking random humans? Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, seeing it in dreams isn't good enough!" Mabel pulled over a blank paper. It was hours until trick-or-treaters showed up, they had a little time to waste. "I'll draw it!"

"Wow, really?" Bill looked up from his wig. "You're not worried about letting the big bad triangle see your house?"

"Come on! You already know where I live, right?"

Bill immediately rattled off, "1337 Fairview Drive, Piedmont, California, on the northeast side of the street where it's less hilly."

"Exactly—you creep. So who cares if you know what it looks like, too?"

A square, sky blue house with two stories and a triangular roof; a big living room window on the left, a covered door on the right, three windows on the second floor, and a chimney. Mabel had drawn her home plenty of times—but doing it for a friend (?) was different from doing it for a teacher or a librarian, and she put extra effort into the rose bushes under the living room window. She added her and Dipper's smiling faces in the upstairs windows and Waddles's face downstairs in the living room.

"Waddles sleeps in the kitchen, but he basically owns half the yard to wallow in. This is my room, and here's Dipper's—I get three windows, but Dipper has the biggest window and a bigger room, so it's fair, no matter what he says—"

"Oh, you two have separate rooms now?" Bill was leaning halfway around the table and craning his neck to see the image right side up.

"Uh, yeah? Since we were ten?"

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't know how you'd expect me to know that. You both still dream about sharing a room."

Mabel paused and tried to remember how often she dreamed about Dipper in his new room. Sometimes she woke and was still disoriented to find her bed in the middle of the room instead of against one wall with Dipper's on the other side. "Huh."

She added a few more details—the front steps, the gate, the shingles. (Bill watched nervously as she pulled out the gray crayon to color the driveway—but she didn't notice how it had been tampered with.) She talked about her home, and in turn Bill told her weird things, like that Dipper often dreamed of monsters coming out of the fridge. When she finished, she autographed her name with a star on the "i" in Pines, offered it over grandly, and said, "Here, you can keep this!"

Bill accepted it without the customary effusive gratitude with which one ought to accept a generously-gifted original artwork from a 13-year-old prodigy. "What am I gonna do with it?"

"That's your problem!"

"Fair enough!" He checked his leggings for pockets and, when he didn't find any, set the page on the table by his elbow.

Offering accepted. As Bill resumed coloring his wig, Mabel picked up another piece of paper and got to work on the next columned house. "What does your house look like?"

Bill stopped dead, looked straight at her, and said, "My what?"

What was weird about the question? "Your house! Or whatever you lived in before you came here. You came from somewhere before you tried to invade Earth, right? You didn't just pop out of somebody's dream."

Bill laughed. "Yeah I did!"

"Bill."

"4500 years ago the construction workers of Egypt had a shared nightmare about the immense tombs they'd spent the last century building—"

"Biiiill."

"—and when they awoke they found the combined psychic energy of their terror had spawned a sleep paralysis demon more powerful than Ra! So then I ate their souls—"

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being so serious right now."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine! I get it. You're embarrassed." She shook her head and returned to coloring.

She felt the combined spiritual energy of hundreds of imaginary Egyptian construction workers beating down on her face from Bill's eye. Like a laser. "'Embarrassed'?"

"Because you don't have a house," Mabel said. "I think it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed! I don't think you're a loser or anything. It's just kind of sad—"

Bill snatched up a blank piece of paper. "You want a house? Fine! I'll show you a house." He grabbed up an orange crayon, muttering, "It'll put your stupid overpriced shed in California to shame— Where's the ruler—?" Mabel tried not to grin.

For several minutes, he was perfectly silent. Mabel glanced over to see him coloring with three crayons at once, only for him to shove a hand in her face and snap, "No peeking."

Mabel got through two more drawings before Bill slapped down his paper over Mabel's. "There! How about that?!"

She looked at the drawing, which Bill had helpfully labeled "Party Central!" in red crayon. A great stone pyramid so dark brown it was nearly black, with bricks outlined in brilliant gold and molten orange and fiery red, and a sharp multicolored X hovering above it—

Mabel gave Bill a flat look. "This isn't your house, this is your Torture Temple."

"The what? Hey, is that really what people are calling it?! It's not the Torture Temple, it's the Fearamid!"

Despite herself, Mabel burst out laughing. "You named it the 'Fearamid'?!"

"It's a pyramid and humans fear it! It's genius. Portmanteaus make great names."

"What's a portmanteau."

"It's a word made from the unholy Frankensteinian fusion of two other words. Like getting 'electrocute' from 'electricity' and 'execute'!"

"Or 'romcom'?"

"Yeah, or that."

Mabel considered the drawing. "If you want to scare less people, you could call this your Bill-ding."

"HA! Oh, I'm saving that."

"Anyway, this isn't where you live," Mabel said. "You were there for like a week tops!"

"Yeah, before your great-uncle killed me. I'd still be living there if it weren't for you jerks." He stuck out his tongue.

"Come on, Bill. I showed you my house. Draw where you grew up or something!"

"What's wrong with the Fearamid?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Why don't you want me to see your real house?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. "Eh, you know what? Why not. If you're gonna be so ridiculous about such a silly thing." He pulled over another piece of paper. "But if I don't have enough time to finish coloring this wig, you have to help me."

"Fiiine." She returned to her own drawings as Bill got back to work.

After a long silence—longer than he'd taken to draw and color the Fearamid—he said, "Okay, done. Here." And he pushed over the paper with one dismissive finger.

She eagerly accepted the drawing—and frowned. There was nothing on the page except for a straight flat black line, interrupted by three line segments of bright blue and a cluster of red and green dashes. "What is this?"

"Where I grew up," Bill said, innocently, already back to coloring the wig. Mabel could see his mischievous smirk. "As seen from the front. Just like your drawing of your house. So we're even now."

Mabel's brows furrowed as she stared at the page in confusion. "What...?"

"You do know I'm from the second dimension, right? A universe that's flat like a piece of paper. I figured Sixer would've told you all about it by now." Bill picked up the drawing and held it between his and Mabel's faces, so that, viewed from the edge, all Mabel could see of the paper was a thin flat line. "What do you think the second dimension looks like to somebody in the second dimension?"

Mabel took the paper back, looked at the underwhelming flat line representing the front of Bill's house, and said, "I hate you."

"We had the prettiest roses in the park," Bill said, pointing at the red dashes. "Crayon really doesn't do them justice."

"Shut uppp."

Bill laughed at her; but then, to her surprise, he said, "Okay, all right, I guess a big fancy 3D creature like you can't understand the nuances of two-dimensional sight. So, here." He flipped over the page. "Top down view."

The back of the page had what looked like a floorplan. A narrow room on the left, a large L-shaped room, a tiny room nestled into the L's top right corner, and a medium room on the right. Little shapes filled the rooms—furniture of some kind?—but she didn't see anything immediately recognizable like a top-down bed or table and chairs. Green and red spirals dangled off the bottom of the floorplan.

"I'm no Edward Bishop Bishop, but it gets the idea across," Bill said.

She studied all the strange little figures in fascination, looking for anything familiar. She pointed at a few shallow bowls filled with blue sticking out of the wall between the L-shaped room and the tiny room. "Are these sinks?"

"Hey, you're pretty sharp. Sinks and the tub."

"So the little room's the bathroom."

"Right again." Bill pointed out the rooms on the floor plan. "Master bed's on the right, kitchen and living room in the middle—and you found the bathroom—and second bed's on the left. That was my room! The one with a million books," he pointed at a wall with countless tiny multicolored lines coming off of it. "I was a big reader as a kid. I've always been an intellectual."

"Who was in the other bedroom?"

"I never really went in there, who cares." Bill made a dismissive gesture. "I think there were some desks and stuff in there too, but I didn't bother to draw them since I never used them." He picked up a yellow and a black crayon and added on to the drawing, dexterously turning the crayons in his hand to switch between colors without setting either one down. "I spent most of my time in my room." He'd drawn a little yellow triangle with an eye. He picked up a red crayon to point an arrow at the triangle and label it "Me!" "I didn't even have to leave the room to see the TV. The perks of psychic powers!"

Mabel wondered which of the weird shapes was the TV; but before she could come to a decision, she was distracted by the scale of Bill drawn in his room. Maybe he'd just drawn himself big, but he seemed cramped in that narrow space. And he'd hardly have room to turn around in the bathroom without his corner smacking something. "It looks pretty small. Is that normal on your home world?"

"Ah, I rarely spent time at home—it was just a place to sleep between speaking engagements," Bill said. "I was always on tour. Living the life of the rich and famous! Hotels, jet planes, and tour buses!"

Mabel shot him an irritated look. "You said this is where you grew up."

"This is where I grew up! I got an early start making my fortune. I was already famous by the time I was, uh..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Developmentally, I think I would've been about equivalent to your age. Maybe a bit younger."

How much of all this was true? It didn't feel like a lie—and she couldn't see how he'd benefit from lying about any of it, except maybe claiming to be famous. So it probably had to be true. He'd actually made her a drawing of his house. Even after he'd complained about being so bad at art. She beamed at him. "Thanks, Bill. Your weird alien house is neat! I like the squiggly spiral flowers! Are they actually roses?"

"They were the flower that everyone mentions in poetry and that you have to bring home when your wife is mad, so, same basic function as roses," Bill said. "Fun fact, they grow in spirals so that they're pretty on the outside, but—"

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"—but have more surface area to absorb sunlight on the inside," Mabel said, pointing at the flowers. "Alien biology! And the orange things are couches and the colorful box in front of them is his TV, and Bill says he could watch TV through the wall but he never really liked TV, he preferred live performances—maybe we should take him to a musical! And the little sideways cushions on the walls are their beds because gravity goes to the left because their house faces east—I have no idea why!—so, I guess that's their 'floor'? But if that's the 'floor,' Bill didn't explain why all his books were on the 'ceiling' without them falling off, and..." Mabel trailed off, giving Ford a concerned look. "Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?"

He was gaping at the drawing. "Wh—? Yes. Sorry. I'm just..." He shook his head in amazement. "I never even got that slippery eel to admit he has a calendar system, and you got the blueprints to his childhood home?"

Dipper said, "Yeah, this is amazing. How did you get this out of him?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything special," Mabel said casually. "Just drew our house and then suggested he was too scared to let me see his."

Dipper grimaced. "You showed him our house?"

"Don't worry about it! He already knows where we live."

"Of course," Ford said, taking a quick note in his journal. "Exploiting his ego. He's very proud; undermine that pride and he'll feel compelled to defend his honor." Ford had started goading Bill into giving away more than he meant to the same way. He wished he'd started doing it far earlier; but he'd spent so many years foolishly assuming Bill's pride was objective and justified that he sometimes forgot what an egomaniac Bill really was.

As Mabel had spoken, Ford had filled several pages with bullet-pointed half thoughts: dodges questions about the master bed—his parents' room?; no bed or bedroom for a sibling, he seems like an only child; "speaking engagements" is probably a euphemism, what was he doing to become a child celebrity; were his books his only childhood possessions or just the only thing he valued enough to draw; did he gain his "psychic powers" while amassing the power he needed to "liberate"/destroy his dimension? "Can I borrow this drawing to make a photocopy?"

"Sure! Don't forget the line on the back," Mabel said. "And you can copy the Fearamid, too! Did you know he named it the 'Fearamid'?"

"Oh yeah, I heard him call it that," Dipper said. "I think I recorded it in Journal 3?"

"I should've read that before we threw out all of Grunkle Ford's Bill stuff," Mabel sighed. She slid over the Fearamid drawing to Ford. "Bwop! He drew it tilting all weird to the left? He wasn't kidding when he said he's bad at drawing."

Ford studied the drawing and frowned. He lay his pen on the drawing to use like a makeshift ruler. "It's not 'skewed'—he drew the front face as a perfect equilateral triangle, and then extended a side on the right to turn it into a pyramid. It's poor perspective—there's no point of view from which one side would look like a perfect equilateral triangle and you could see another side, but..." He trailed off again as he made a note to himself about what this might mean about Bill's ability to perceive the third dimension and his artistic sensibilities.

"So he draws like Picasso!" Mabel concluded. "Oh! Bill mentioned a name when he gave me his house, he said he wasn't like Edward Bishop Bishop—and I remembered it because it sounds funny. Bishop-Bishop. Maybe he's another artist Bill likes? Or somebody who makes blueprints?"

"I'm sure I've heard that name. I think he was a mathematician?" Ford frowned. "I can't recall, though." He wrote down another note: Edward Bishop Bishop – mathematician/artist? Something to look up later.

Dipper glanced back and forth between Ford and Mabel as they talked, feeling his stomach sink at how excited they were and how easily they got along. First the mysterious disappearing crystal shop in Portland, now Mabel made this huge discovery about the guy Ford had spent years trying to learn about... Dipper swallowed hard and tried to tell himself he shouldn't feel jealous after he'd gotten Ford to himself for basically the past year. "I can't believe you found out all this."

Mabel immediately looked at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Dipper winced. He'd realized a moment too late how he must have sounded. Quickly, he said, "I mean, it's great that you did! Finding out more information about him is great. But, like... investigating the paranormal is my thing. It's what I spent all last summer doing, and it's my dream job, and... and now, the biggest paranormal mystery in human history is in our house, and you're the one getting all the info out of him?"

"Well, yeah," Mabel said. "I'm our official Bill spy, remember? I'm the one who made friends with him."

"I know, I know." He shrugged jerkily. "I'm just... kind of disappointed that I'm not prying eons-old secrets out of an alien demon. You know?"

Ford had paused in his writing to listen to Dipper thoughtfully. "I understand. When you're exceptional at something, it can be... difficult to share the limelight," he said. "Not because you don't think anyone else deserves it. You just don't know if you'll ever get it back."

Dipper's face heated up—he didn't want Ford to think he was bad at sharing, of all things—but he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." Ford patted his shoulder understandingly.

"Aww," Mabel said. "Didn't you say that if we're running an experiment on being nice to Bill, you want to be in the control group?" She punched his arm. "Welcome to the control, bro!"

"Ow!" Dipper rubbed his arm and laughed weakly. "Yeah, okay, you're right. This is what I get."

Mabel said, "You should try talking to Bill! Maybe he'll tell you stuff too. He's really easy to talk to as long as you don't mind him sometimes saying creepy nightmare things."

"And as long as you're prepared for his mental tricks," Ford said.

"Yeah! Grunkle Ford's got a whole class for that," Mabel said. "He'll teach you about the BITE model! It's how cults sink their teeth into you!"

Dipper chuckled. "Sure. Maybe I will. We're gonna be at home handing out candy for a few hours, maybe I'll find an opportunity to interrogate him."

"You're not going trick-or-treating?" Ford asked.

"No," Mabel said, with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

Dipper elbowed her for her theatrics; they'd already agreed on what they'd do tonight. "We've got plans with friends. But we do get to wear matching costumes again."

"Creepy ghost children!"

"Ah," Ford said. "That explains your..." He gestured at them. They were wearing a suit and a dress, old-fashioned and gray, with tattered hems and dusty black dress shoes.

"Barty helped us put the outfits together," Dipper said.

"We still need to do our makeup," Mabel said. "What about you, Grunkle Ford? What are you doing for Summerween?"

"Ah." He glanced toward the ceiling ruefully, as though he could see The Enemy in the shack through the many layers of dirt above. Summerween had been one of the things he'd missed most about Gravity Falls; even during his years as a reclusive scientist in the woods, he'd usually taken off Summerween and Halloween to hand out candy to the children bold enough to visit his house.

But Bill's eagerness to participate had sucked the fun out of the day. The thought of celebrating Summerween in the same house as Bill felt too much like celebrating with him. "Nothing, I suppose. I was planning to stay down here." He gestured at his desk. "Continue my research."

"What are you working on right now?" Dipper asked.

Ford quickly said, "Nothing. Just—the same research," and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Remember what happened last summer when you tried to keep secrets about Bill out of embarrassment? Reluctantly, he said, "I've... split some research duties with Fiddleford. While I'm waiting to hear back from him, I'm looking into—some magical knowledge Bill revealed. To determine how much of it's true."

Dipper looked puzzled. "Revealed when?"

Mabel slammed her hands on Ford's desk. "Grunkle Ford, you can take a break from gathering intel on the enemy for one day! It's Summerween! Promise me you'll do something to celebrate before the day's over."

Ford let out a huff, but smiled. He wanted to do something. Surely he could come up with something that would let him avoid Bill? "All right, I promise. I won't invoke the Trickster's wrath tonight. Could you leave your costume makeup in the bathroom when you're finished? I'll find something to do with it."

"Perfect!" Mabel hugged him; then grabbed Dipper's hand. "C'mon, let's finish getting dressed. The trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!"

"Okay, okay." Dipper waved at Ford as Mabel dragged him to the elevator.

When they were gone, Ford turned back to the papers Mabel had given him. Bill's childhood home... Assuming he wasn't lying, at least. But an entire blueprint seemed like a complicated spur-of-the-moment fabrication even for him. If Bill was lying, it was a lie close to the truth.

It was strange to imagine Bill as a child with a bedroom full of books. Strange to imagine Bill as a child at all. What did a young triangle look like? He couldn't imagine anything different from how Bill always looked.

The floorplan did look small. Smaller even than the apartment over the pawn shop had been. Ford tried to remember what the homes he'd seen in Exwhylia had looked like...

He raised his head as something the kids had said registered. "Barty? Who's Barty?"

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While Mabel was downstairs, Bill inspected her box of crayons.

The wrapper around the gray crayon was coming loose.

He took the glue stick they'd been using to reinforce the paper houses with popsicle sticks and carefully stuck the wrapper back on.

The house was too quiet without anyone around to talk to. He hated the quiet.

From the corner of the living room behind the table, when Bill leaned on the wall, shut his eyes, and listened closely, he could faintly hear the hidden elevator. He headed upstairs to stow the drawing of Mabel's house somewhere safe, and then went to the downstairs bathroom to finish dressing for Summerween.

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(Y'all I worked hard on those fake crayon drawings. Anyway I know we're all collectively going insane today over the book news but if you took time out of your day to read this, I'd love to hear what y'all think!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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tanith-rhea · 1 year

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Neighbours

Miranda just broke up with her fifth boyfriend of the year. It is September and she is starting to feel done with juvenile relationships and thinks it's time to settle down and focus exclusively on her Policing Bachelor's. To this effect, she moves to a new apartment to start the new no-relationships (or at least no-men) chapter of her life. Shame that her new neighbour seems to disagree with that… at least when she’s sleeping.

Word count: 3k

Part One, Part Two

I love this gif by @kingpreciouswrld so much, thank you!

Your new neighbour is the cutest person you’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s no big deal, obviously, but it would be stupid to deny she is the person with the biggest puppy vibes you’ve ever encountered.

You first saw her coming back from a workday. She was just moving in, a few boxes in the corridor, some blocking your door. Your previous apartment was a disarray of disassembled furniture and all manner of clutter.

You missed your old apartment, but it was for the better. The new one, just across the corridor, was a one-bedroom at almost half the price, it was also half the size, but you could not care less, being only you.

“Hey, do you want some help with this?” you remember asking the bent-over girl lifting the heavy-looking boxes.

She didn’t respond immediately, instead turning around to look at you with white-blond eyebrows up on her forehead.

“Oh my god, sorry! Am I blocking the way?” she tried to flatten herself in the wall, but the box was still very big if you were to pass.

“No” you chuckled, amused with her sweet but ineffective attempt at making space “I live here, actually” you knocked on your door and shrugged.

“Fuck I’m blocking your actual fucking door” she seemed exasperated with herself, turning slightly pink. She was so adorable you felt your stomach bubbly. Maybe you would throw up rainbows, who knew?

“It’s no problem, really. I can just open it and jump over the box. I’m asking if you want help” you tried to smile gently. Most of the time your smiles were snarky or smug, so you didn’t have much practice conveying niceness.

She bit her lip and you wanted to curl into a ball and scream in happiness. How the hell did she manage to be so cute? You wanted to punch her.

“All right… yeah, thank you. If you’re serious…” she gave you a sheepish smile and you promptly lifted some boxes as well.

The boxes were indeed damned heavy. It only made you admire even more how easily she seemed to pile two or three of them and bring them inside. She could throw you across the room without breaking a sweat, you were sure.

She thanked you again and you tried to act normal and said she could just shout if help was needed. You were just across the corridor anyway.

She didn’t shout for help. She didn’t even call for a chat, actually. You left early in the morning to work and came back close to six when she was already inside, you assumed, watching television or playing games or whatever you assumed students did these days.

The only interaction you had after the moving in was when you came back from work two days later to find a chocolate cake on a paper plate with a “thank you <3” note on it. The heart and her handwriting were very round, and you thought she must have had one of those teachers that made kids write four pages of calligraphy with every homework.

You didn’t even have the excuse of giving the plate back, and what would you say if you simply knocked on her door? Hello, I think you are adorable and would like to spend time with you even though we are just neighbours, and I don’t mind if you don’t find me attractive, I just want to look at your cute as fuck face? No, that wouldn’t do. You just had to accept your predicament and move on.

But the mind is a funny thing, and countless nights of not sleeping enough and rewatching Buffy, The Vampire Slayer atop the stress of applying to culinary school were just the thing it needed to decide it was time for a good old sleepwalking.

The first time it happened you woke up trying to open the door to your old apartment at four in the morning. The hallway was dimly lit by the soft blue nightlights kept for those who stumbled home after a wild night out or left to work in the ungodly hours of the morning. You went back to your own apartment, drank very cold water and decided an early start was as good a decision as any. You made scrambled eggs for a change and actually had breakfast before leaving.

The second time was the same. You woke up cold with your hand twisting insistently in your neighbour’s doorknob. By the fifth you were starting to get frustrated, and by seventh, you were beginning to consider telling Miranda about your predicament, lest she decided to go for a midnight walk and find you trying to break into her apartment.

But you didn’t have the chance. The eighth time, Miranda forgot her door open, and your sleepwalking self was satisfied to finally be able to enter her “home”. You woke up with a searing pain in your head.

“Are you awake? Are you all right? Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, you scared the shit out of me!” your neighbour’s voice was a high-pitched audio on 2x velocity.

Her hands were on your face, and you were sprawled on the rug of her living room.

“What…?” your heart rate was slowly rising, and you didn’t understand what was happening. You were partially used to waking up in the hallway but laying on the ground with a panicked Miranda on top of you was at least a bit disorientating.

“I think you sleepwalked into my home” she took a deep breath, trying to lower her volume “I heard something bumping from my room and came out to see a figure down the hallway… so I hit you with a frying pan”

“You did what?!” the absolute nerve! Well, actually you invaded her home, so good on her for defending herself “What if I was a real burglar? You would come at me with a frying pan?” your head was still aching, probably where she hit you, but you gave her a side smile.

“I’m at policing school for something, aren’t I?” she went up and offered you a hand smiling, she seemed relieved.

Policing then. That made sense considering her height and strength, but you could swear she was an artsy one, maybe sculpting and drinking herbal tea or whatever.

“Sorry, officer, didn’t mean to cause any trouble” you joked, getting up and patting your pyjamas.

“Next time I’ll have you arrested” she arched a brow, amused.

You definitely wouldn’t mind that. Ok, that was enough. She was cute, yes. It was the middle of the night and she had bed hair and her blouse was hanging off her right shoulder but that didn’t give any right.

“I’ll, hm… go then” you pointed behind your shoulder to the door “You probably want to go back to sleep… I should too” you smiled tightly, trying to keep the swagger or whatever, look cool, even if you had just invaded her home, flirted with her and stared at her unguarded form probably still warm from sleeping.

She seemed to jump at that, realizing the circumstances, and looked at the clock. Almost five, damn.

”Oh, you could actually stay. It’s not a problem” she speed-talked at you.

“Are you sure…? You could still sleep around… two hours?”

“Classes start at eight, might as well make use of the extra time” she shrugged, smiling contently “But you don’t have to stay if you don’t want” she quickly added, seeming less confident.

Jesus, the girl was a rollercoaster of emotions.

“No, sure. I’ll stay” you smiled, and she seemed satisfied with that “Actually, I’ll make you breakfast. You go shower and get ready and I’ll make you panda-shaped banana pancakes” you blinked, trying not to laugh at her confused look.

“All right…” she walked slowly to the hallway “Will you need help in the kitchen?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll find my way” you reassured her, and she nodded shortly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Miranda was the funniest girl you had met in a long while. She was direct and innocent in a hilarious and charming way. After two or three pancakes she was asking you about your preference for sleepwear bottoms or what brand of toothpaste you used. You also discovered she swore off men after five bad relationships in only a year. That was interesting but discouraging at the same time. For one, she wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with a man, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t straight. Chances were that she was, from how she talked about men, and that was at the very least really disappointing. You thought you had a chance when you first saw her, but that just went to teach you never to judge a book by its tall, beautifully breathtaking cover. She was an absolute lesbian thirst trap, and it was hugely unfair.

At least now you were friends, not simply the person across the hallway, and you could be content with that; if not jumping excitedly in gay bliss, but that was ok.

One breakfast turned into eating junk food over at your place, watching Buffy because you still had one season to go for your fourth rewatch, and talking about all manner of things. Miranda was in the third year of her bachelor’s degree, halfway to graduation because she studied only in the mornings. She was twenty-one, two years younger than you, and apparently had fooled around with some girls in the past; mostly just “straight and curious” as she put it. She didn’t seem too happy about it, and you didn’t touch the subject again.

Almost an entire month of eating at each other’s places and watching whatever was on television went by and you could almost lie well enough to yourself that you weren’t slowly falling for her and were just happy for becoming closer and closer friends with her. But then it happened.

You had drunk a few beers together while Miranda did some research for a paper she was due next month. It was late and you were napping lightly on her shoulder when she leaned on your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“You can go sleep if you want, I’ll finish this in a bit anyway” she murmured close to you and in your half-sleeping daze you only agreed with a hum and went to the bedroom.

Her bedroom, in the apartment that wasn’t yours anymore.

She saw you walk down the corridor and didn’t say anything, which was strange. Some people didn’t mind having friends sleeping over, but you were going to her room, not the guest’s, and still, she didn’t utter a word. Later, she went to sleep as well. You were already deep in a dreamless sleep unlike you’d had in a long while. She slipped in the covers beside you and brought you to her chest, you sighed contently in the crook of her neck while she played with your hair until she too fell asleep.

Waking up in Miranda’s bed was the sweetest sensation. Her body was warm, all tangled with yours, and she snored softly with her head atop yours. For a few seconds you were in heaven, and then the situation finally dawned in your head. You were sleeping in Miranda’s arms. How the hell did that happen? You remembered last night as if it was… well, yesterday. She said you could go to sleep, but she didn’t specify where, and your sleep-deprived brain took you to the exact bed it had been trying to get you into for at least a week and a half some time ago. And Miranda did nothing. Actually, she didn’t “do nothing”, she went and slept with you in said goddamned bed.

“I can hear you thinking” a sleepy voice came from atop you; Miranda was awake and hugging you while pressing her nose to your hair. She made a contented hum and hold you tighter before letting you go, sitting up “It’s all right, this was your apartment, I get that you would go to your old room if you were sleepy and not thinking clearly” she smiled, letting you off the hook.

She was so unfairly beautiful with pillow marks on her cheeks and sleepy dust in her eyes, a dopey smile not at all timid, but warm, before getting up and crossing the corridor to the bathroom.

You were in hell. You also were in heaven, but it didn’t belong to you. Miranda was your friend; she was straight and very much not interested in a relationship at the moment. She said so herself, countless times while drunk and complaining about ex-lovers, whom you wanted to beat to the ground for not seizing the opportunity of catching her eye, thank you very much. You could not continue doing this. You were far too invested for your own good and it was time to take a step back and reflect.

You got up, knocked on the bathroom door to say you were going home to get ready for work and left.

The following days were horrible. Miranda would come over with takeout only for you to lie about a headache and wanting to sleep, or you wouldn’t come back till it was late enough that she would be inside watching tv. Sometimes you said you had work stuff to sort out, which you didn’t, and she knew because you worked at a café. It also wasn’t a good enough excuse because she did college stuff all time at your house and it never was a problem. She knew what you were doing, and she didn’t stop you. Maybe she was relieved.

It was Saturday night, almost a week after the “I can’t keep lying to myself that I love you” incident. Miranda hadn’t knocked in two days, and you were eating ice cream on the sofa while indulging in some well-deserved skin care consisting of tears and self-pity when a voice sounded at the door.

“Hey… are you there? I can listen to the tv” it was Miranda, of course it was.

You knew you were being a drama queen, but you enjoyed those stages of breakups where you could cry all day and stuff yourself with sweets. It didn’t mean you wanted her to see that.

You hid the ice cream underneath the coffee table and furiously cleaned your face in the hem of your t-shirt before opening the door.

“Hi! Sorry, I was just cleaning, everything is a mess today, I’d prefer you didn’t see it” you didn’t even give her a chance to speak.

She looked easily over your shoulder, noticing nothing out of place.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to interrupt” she looked at her hands, squishing each other nervously “Listen… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’d like for us to go back to normal” she sounded so sorrowful you wanted to bang your head in the wall for being the cause.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable” one truth “it just has been a busy week, I really wish we could have hung out more” two lies, well, one and a half. Could she spot which was which in your voice?

She looked at you uncertainly, her hands clenching like she needed strength to proceed with whatever she wanted to do.

“I understand your position in this situation, and I respect it. It was inappropriate of me to take advantage and a completely absurd assumption as well” she closed her eyes forcefully for a few seconds, her brows furrowed tightly before looking at you again “I can keep my feelings to myself and be only your friend. Everything would be normal; I wouldn’t even touch you if you’d like”

What the hell was she on about? Keep her feelings to herself, what the fuck?

“What? Randee, you didn’t take advantage of me, I slept on your bed. You could have kicked me out if you so wanted, it was your right, and you didn’t. You were actually decent and pretended it was all ok and reasonable”

She seemed confused, and you were starting to feel a bit frustrated at the situation. Nothing she said made sense.

“No, it wasn’t right of me because I wanted it!” she had to stop speed-talking at you like this, you could barely understand her “I could have slept on the couch, or in the guest room, but no. I slept with you… because I wanted to, and because I could… and now I wish I hadn’t because you’re pulling away from me and I feel like you don’t even want to be friends anymore while I can’t get enough of even being near you”

…

What now? Your heart was eerily calm for what you’d just heard. Did it stop and you were dying? Would it expand and explode from the absolute incredulity of what you had just heard?

Miranda’s bottom lip was trembling and she looked alarmingly close to breaking down in tears when you lunged yourself forward to hug her.

She sobbed, heavens allow it to be in relief, and hugged you back with much more strength than you could take. You could barely breathe but you didn’t pull away.

She started crying this time, but you traced soothing patterns in her back until it subsided and brought her inside to sit on the sofa. You brought up the ice cream starting to melt from underneath the coffee table and offered her. She accepted and ate while sobbing. It was the sweetest, most wonderful thing you’d seen in your entire life. You cuddled up to her side, hugging her shoulders while she calmed down. You could barely keep your excitement from showing now that you knew she wanted you back. This incredible woman wanted you back.

When she finally calmed down and put the ice cream aside, you loosened your grip on her shoulder and looked at her face, her puffy red adorable face.

“I wanted to as well,” you said simply, looking her in the eyes, hers locking into yours with a surprised glint “And I couldn’t deal with the feelings I had so I decided to keep my distance”

She was silent for a moment, searching your face for any signs you weren’t saying the truth.

“Do you still?” she asked slowly, looking at your lips.

“I do” you whispered before smashing your lips together.

#miranda hilmarson x reader #would you look at that #top of the lake #miranda hilmarson #constable hilmarson #gwendoline christie #female reader #fluff #humour #just some lighthearted fluff #there will be smut #just got too long for a single post

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electrozeistyking · 10 days

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I am so incredibly curious about N and Uzi before…. N had to kill her…

What was life like as a married drone couple? How did they do their wedding? How awkward was the conversation about having a kid?

I’m also curious about V in this AU, what are her thoughts on all that’s going on… N killing Uzi, N having a kid, N being fricken’ depressed… She was a broken individual in the canon, is she still just as broken here? Has she healed from all that the solver’s but her through?

sorry for the many questions, but as an obsessive individual you have crafted the perfect thing for me to obsess over and i am dying for more content lol.

p.s. are there more fics to come? Ik ya only have the one prologue rn, are more chapters on their way?

Hey, no need to apologize for being curious! I quite like the amount of questions! Tells me you're interested in the AU, y'know? Anyway, let me dig up some old notes!

These aren't the full notes, though. A lot was cut, especially if they involved spoilers and/or if they made this go on for too long.

Everything was as fine as it could possibly be on this frozen, toxic exoplanet. Hell, this stretch of fine-ness went on long enough that one of them decided to propose to the other.

And by one of them, I mean Uzi.

This is based on some observations (aka the hand holding thing in Episode 6), but N was a major fucking dork when V asked him if he was thinking about proposing to Uzi — y’know, saying things like “I don’t know if I should” and “maybe she doesn’t want to go that far” and “maybe we’re fine as is?”

Then meanwhile Uzi’s been drawing up plans on how the hell she’s going to propose to this tall ass robot.

In the end, she kinda threw it all to the wind and decided to do so with no big events or plans or anything. She kinda panicked, though, so she said “Do you wanna marry me?” instead of “Will you marry me?”

N nearly short-circuited trying to say yes. He was kind of having a “Oh my goodness, this is happening????” moment and a “OH SHE DOES WANT TO GO THAT FAR” moment at the exact same time, so something may have literally sparked.

[...] there was a funny period of time where the duo kept very suddenly realizing they’re married, like it didn’t actually sink in until that moment.

In fact, N exclaimed “oh my goodness” and leaned against something every time it occurred to him.

Unfortunately, the good fluffy times couldn’t last forever.

You see, one way or another, our beloved robotic dorks somehow found themselves on the topic of having a kid. The conversation itself was fine, if slightly awkward at first (what with N being unsure he’d be good at parenting, anyway). However, just as they reached the peak of “hey, would they be more disassembler or more worker” jokes, Uzi started coughing.

Which is not normal for any kind of drone. Unless they accidentally swallow something wrong, or if the air’s a bit too thick for whatever reason, drones don’t cough for seemingly no reason. And yet, despite how odd it was, both of them tried to brush it off.

In a brilliant moment of jumping to conclusions (even if they’re the right ones), Uzi realized that The Solver was trying to take over her body.

In a panic, N tried to help any way he could, but felt like he was doing nothing in the process. Uzi just kept getting worse, and every time they landed up empty-handed, the thought he was failing her stung even more.

V tried to help as well, out of fear over what that thing would do if It took over (and because she did think of Uzi as a friend, even if she’d never admit it to her face).

When The Solver started hijacking her body during one such search to find a way to stop It, Uzi realized it was all over for her.

Whatever this thing was — whatever It wanted — wasn’t good. And so, in a moment of desperation and panic, she came up with a plan to destroy It. Hopefully, if everything worked in their favour, It’d be gone once and for all.

Of course, its success banked on N’s cooperation. Since V split off from the duo this time, he was the only disassembly drone who could possibly carry it out. Predictably, he tried to decline at first, seeing as the plan was to kill Uzi and destroy her core.

However, when Uzi explained that this was the only way to get rid of this fucking thing, N reluctantly agreed. Despite being incredibly painful, he brought out his laser gun (which is what I think it is, shut up) and the couple had one last heartfelt goodbye.

But then, just as N went to shoot her, the laser turned an awful shade red he’s never seen before and started malfunctioning — something that’s supposed to rarely ever happen. N panicked, calling out Uzi’s name... right before the weapon exploded.

V felt the vibrations of the explosion from where she stood and immediately rushed to N and Uzi’s location. She assumed that something went wrong, but what she saw was not what she expected.

Uzi was dead.

There was a Fatal Error message on her visor, as clear as day. She was in multiple pieces, with a hole in her chest right where her core was supposed to be — having most likely imploded, thanks in part to The AbsoluteSolver’s weirdness.

While N was alive, his body was in rough shape. He’d been split in two due to the blast, and his chest had been cracked wide open. Judging from how dark smoke billowed from where one of his hands should’ve been, something had gone completely wrong.

But how? There was a very small chance their weapons could malfunction, and yet... what the fuck happened?

V chose not to dwell on it too long. N’s body wasn’t regenerating on its own fast enough for some reason, and he was losing a shit ton of oil at an alarming rate.

Fuelled by pure adrenaline, V somehow managed to carry both of N’s halves and all of Uzi’s pieces back to the Outpost.

#Zeisty's Askbox #ghost drone au #tw death #tw major character death #tw injury #just in case tag #a lot of them anyway #souls is going to kick my ass (affectionately)#i'll reblog this with the actual answers at one point #this feels a bit bogged down to me already so

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ametistacollinsworld · 1 year

Text

♚ N x Non Binary! Reader ♛

My third request! Hope you like ;3

✥---------------✥---------------✥

You was part of the Disassembly Drone squadron, being the 4th addition to the group and also responsible for their "medical care".

N and you had a special bond, spending most of yours times together, whether they are: hunting, talking or simply spending some quality time together. You always thought N was cute and funny in his own way, making you laugh and smile every time you were around him, and you loved him for it.

The only problem, or rather the only two problems were: J and V.

Even though they were from the same squadron as N, the two drones never seemed to mind hurting the sweet drone, both be being physically and emotionally, which drove you crazy.

So, another beautiful night of hunting began. Where you were currently alone with your random thoughts, having to go hunting alone this time at J's request… You suspected that she had sent you out alone on purpose, as she didn't seem to like your "too friendly bond" with N. She was a spoiled bitchy company narcissist in your opinion, but you didn't want to say it to her face for fear of having to have an argument with the drone in question.

You stop your thoughts as soon as you land near the base, hearing a scream?.. And it seemed to be from N!

You run to the entrance in the dome of worker drones bodies, quickly looking for where N was, finally finding him on the ground with V and J around him… what did they think they were doing with him?!

N appeared to be moaning in pain on the ground, looking like he got some kind of kick in the stomach, while this V and J laughed at his poor misery. You were totally enraged by this scene, feeling your hands quickly turn into sharp blades, thus running towards the three, knocking V and J to the ground in the process.

'' Hey! That hurt! '' V complained getting up from the floor glaring at you with eyes that could kill. You snorted, feeling your angry face tighten quickly locking eyes with J who had also gotten up and was cleaning her clothes.

'' You- Tsk! You're lucky I'm in a good mood (Y/n)! If not, the company would definitely know about it! '' J made an annoyed face at you, she sure wasn't in a good mood. You couldn't care less…

'' It would be really nice if you didn't touch my boyfriend J! You too V! I wouldn't mind having to make 2 sacrifices that were 'irreversible' on behalf of the company..after all this isn't my job?~ I need to take care of what's most important.. and in this case N is more important… you want to die forever this time?~ '' You said in a dark but malicious voice, giving a smile full of teeth that shed saliva, now having your eyes replaced by a big illuminated X. J and V retreated in genuine fear, not expecting such a threat from you.

'' F-fine! But you two sleep outside tonight! Come V! Let's leave them alone.. '' J said entering the spaceship, soon being followed by a silent V who was now looking at the ground.

You snorted, still irritated, but soon retracting your claws and reverting to your worried expression, quickly looking over at the disassembly drone that had been silently gazing at you in admiration.

'' O-oh- I'm fine (Y-Y/n), don't worry seriously! J and V are so strong haha- '' N spoke in a clumsy way, embarrassed for looking so silly in front of you. You sighed, giving the drone an affectionate hug, which he returned with flushed cheeks.

'' Please promise me that you'll try not to get hurt ever again? Please? I.. really can't think about losing you N..'' You said softly resting your head on his shoulder, which he reacted by softening his expression and giving a small reassuring little smile.

'' I promise-… but only if you're by my side the whole time! '' N said in a happy voice, which you just rolled your eyes, then giving a teasing smile. '' You goofy ass would never survive without me! So for sure '' You say with a playful tone soon hearing N's happy giggle.

'' Hehe! I love you so much (Y/n)! Thank you for always being here for me… '' N said in a caring tone looking into your eyes, feeling his cheeks flush as you looked into his face. You smiled softly seeing his cheeks, cupping N's face with both your hands carefully.

" I love your goofy ass too! Now come here! " You declared with an amused smile, not leaving time for N to react pulling him to kiss your lips, thus starting a sweet and slow kiss, which scared N at first, but quickly recovered from the shock, returning the kiss with affection, feeling his cheeks burn.

You were happy together, and nothing or no one was going to break the bond you had.

#md n #murder drones n #murder drones #murder drones x reader #murder drones n x reader #md n x reader

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heroofspiritsisthebestlink · 1 year

Text

VHAD NATION

I wrote another fic! This time, I think it’s short enough to just slap on here. I also want to thank @creativeskull95 for letting me use their OC, Maia! Please, give their stuff a look as well.

Without further ado, let’s begin.

A Dream Is A Wish Your Core Makes

"Lock down the whole building. We can't risk that thing getting in."

The overly sweaty humans on the screen started bickering between themselves, as Thad began to zone out for the 13th time tonight. He really was trying to keep up with the movie, but it bored him so much that he was genuinely starting to wonder if his motivator was malfunctioning. A quick hit on the pause button and a two minute full body-scan later revealed that, no, the flick was just that asinine. It didn't help that it was getting a little late, or that this was his third attempt at trying to watch the whole thing through. Horror was boring him, somehow. Living in an isolationist, paranoid society that was constructed from the fear of death made dramatized fiction like this feel artificial and numbing. At least, that's what he supposed. He rubbed his eyes and slumped back into the sofa, maybe he'll give it a fourth shot tomorrow.

His eyes went wide in surprise as the sound of a ventilation grid hitting the floor behind him brought him back to reality. When the initial shock passed, he looked over his shoulder and sighed in relief as a familiar, tall figure lowered herself into his hallway. Adjusting her hair, she then waved at him.

"Hey." Said V. "Pod got a little cramp and I got bored."

"That makes two of us." Said Thad, throwing a flabby hand up at the running TV. V chuckled, making herself at home by casually throwing herself on the sofa and putting her legs on the armrest.

"So what's on?" She asked, leaning up against his side.

"'The Instance,' or something. School assignment. We're supposed to watch horror movies to study how humans..." He picked up the paper laying on the table, digital eyes squinting to find a specific paragraph. "'...Use suspense and scares to engage their viewers.' This gotta be the worst movie in the world to show that. Thanks Teach." Thad threw the paper into the air and leaned back again, putting his hands behind his head.

"Dunno about all that, but I'm sure as hell entertained. Look at that guy's wig!" She cackled, pointing a stray claw at the screen. Thad rolled his eyes, but couldn't deny he was smirking. A wig that spiky did look a little out of place. He found himself earnestly smiling for the first time while watching this movie. Maybe it'd be easier to stay awake if he had someone to banter with.

As it turns out, it wasn't so bad if you just had company. They poke fun at the flimsy plot and all the oddities of humanity. V is especially snarky today, mockingly questioning every part of the movie from the character's illogical actions to their fashion choices. The former huntress exercised great comedic skill as she efficiently disassembled the poor Worker Drone's mask, leaving him gasping for air as she continued her assault on his Funny Code. They couldn't stop giggling.

As they finally managed to get past the 60-minute mark, the movie picked up considerably. It was at least interesting enough to make the two drones shift around in their seating and graduate from limp blobs to sitting normally. The characters had eventually gotten into a predicament interesting enough to get invested in. The guy with the spiky wig even got taken away. And then the movie's climactic horror scene happened. The movie's monster, some cloaked creature, had seemingly cornered a large group of characters in a foyer. Then, the carnage began. The monster lunged at the defenseless meat-bags and mercilessly culled them. Bodies were ripped apart, limbs were torn off, screams peaked and died out, and blood was splattered on the walls to such a gruesome degree that would almost be comical if it wasn't so disturbingly familiar. But it was with humans, so Thad could stomach it. He side-eyed V to gauge her reaction, she was being oddly quiet. V looked unnerved. The eyes on her visor had dilated into pupil-less circles. It was getting to her. It was too familiar. Same old horrors. It was too much.

The screen froze as two, grey vertical blocks stared back at her. Thad had paused the movie.

"Do you wanna watch something else?" He asked. V blinked, pupils returning.

"...Isn't this an assignment?"

"It can wait. I have the whole week." He didn't, but this felt more important. Stepping out of the sofa, he waved her over to a shelf with a bunch of plastic casings. DVDs, she realized. Thad began digging through them all, taking them out one by one and having increasingly indifferent reactions to the covers. Looking over the collection, V started to browse herself. Noticing an oddly fancy, glittery one, she took it out. 'Cinderella.'

"What's this?" V asked, staring at the cartoon woman on the cover with intensity, as if trying to gauge whether or not the woman may have the fire powers the title implied.

"Oh, that's my sister's. We can put it on though." He offered with an endorsing tone. V plucked the disc from its casing and threw the plastic over her shoulder, inserting it into the DVD player and hitting Play with her tail. Taking a seat next to Thad again, she waited with her hands resting on her lap. After a few seconds of unusually old static, the archaic sound of filtered horns filled the room.

Cinderella~

If you give your heart a chance

Thad smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he had watched this with Maia, but the melody brought back many memories of his sister gleefully singing along to all the songs. V had nothing to say. She just watched unblinking as colorful graphics painted several pictures to a beautiful song. She said nothing as the pleasant narration introduced her to a nostalgic setting. She didn't question how the woman could converse with animals, or how they could help her shower. It was just a story about a servant girl dreaming of more, and that was enough for her to escape in.

No matter how your heart is grieving

If you keep on believing...

———————————————————————

When Maia woke up early in the morning, she was confused to find a metal grate on the floor in their hallway. Tip-toeing around it, she kept quiet as she sneaked into the living room, expecting to find her brother fast asleep on the sofa once again. Her hand flew up to her mouth to choke the gasp she nearly let out, as next to her brother slept a much larger, scarier girl. A Murder Drone, or, a 'Disassembly Drone,' as she had tried to learn, was cuddling up to Thad in a paradoxically sweet embrace. Looking over them, Maia could also see that the girl had wrapped her tail around Thad's leg. The drone had a big yellow SLEEP MODE sign on her visor, with text beneath reading 'DO NOT DISTURB' in threatening, bold letters. But even if she was really scary, Maia also thought she was really pretty. She was like a sleeping princess, but with big scary wings and teeth.

As silently as possible, Maia began tracing her steps backwards to leave, but was startled to hear her foot step into something crunchy. Panicked, she looked down. It was the casing to her Cinderella DVD. Why was that there? Looking back up, she gasped. Wide, terrified eyes met squinting, groggy ones. The murder princess was awake. With a surprisingly gentle smile, the big girl winked at her, quietly shushing her with a finger. More embarrassed than afraid, Maia turned around and quickly ran into her room.

#murder drones #murder drones thad #serial designation v #vhad

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 2 years

Text

Wally might be in the Phantom Zone with Conner but he also might not be. I don't want people to get discouraged and think that he's gone for good if he isn't in the Phantom Zone with Conner. I actually think it's extremely likely that he won't be.

But before we get into Wally's deal let's talk about Conner and the Phantom Zone. The Phantom Zone is no stranger to Kryptonians or Superboys. The dimension isn't affected by time so it has had a lot of story potential over the years. In the comics Krypton used the Phantom Zone as a prison and would throw all of their villains and criminals in there, which is how Kryptonian villains like General Zod exist because the timeless nature of the dimension kept him the same age that he was when he was thrown into it. Supergirl's (Kara Zor-El) escape pod accidentally flew into the phantom zone when she was attempting to escape Krypton's destruction which is why she remained a preteen for 30+ years while Clark grew from a baby into Superman.

One particular storyline from the comics is of interest here and that's the one where Superboy (Mon-El) is poisoned and has to remain in the Phantom Zone so that he doesn't die. Because time doesn't work in the Phantom Zone he is frozen seconds before his death and remains alive for thousands of years, until the Legion of Superheroes develops a cure and saves him.

That's what I think has happened to Conner. He is dying. He's been poisoned, burned, exploded and he doesn't have any yellow sun energy left. As you can see in the above picture, he has gapping wounds in his chest. If it wasn't for the Phantom Zone he'd be dead. If they take him out of the Phantom Zone he will die. They don't have the technology to save him.... in the present. I think they'll have to take him out of the Phantom Zone in the Legion's time.

Funny enough, this exact thing happened in Final Crisis: Legion of Three Worlds. Mon-El was dying the second they freed him from the Phantom Zone and they needed Brainiac to save him.

Final Crisis: Legion of Three Worlds is an important series that I think will be extremely relevant to this season. For example, this is the series that brings Conner back from the dead. They used a Kryptonian healing chamber to do so. Because Conner is already in the Phantom Zone I think they will use a mix of these two methods, keep him in the Phantom Zone until the Legion's time and then stick him in a healing chamber to cure him.

What else happened in Final Crisis: Legion of Three Worlds?? Well they brought Kid Flash back to life that's what. They didn't do it via Phantom Zone either.

The Legion brought Kid Flash back to life by sending a team to go back in time to collect his energy and store it. They then brought the storage container (a lightning rod) to the future and rematerialized his body there. Now you might be saying 'but they only could do that because of the speedforce! Young Justice doesn't have a speedforce!' and to that I say no and yes. Yes, there isn't a speedforce in Young Justice but no this method doesn't need one to work.

This show has people being disassembled, turned into pure energy and being reassembled somewhere else every single episode. It's not outlandish to suggest that the chrysalis energy broke Wally's body down like a zeta tube would and that, instead of the energy being sent to another zeta tube for reassembly, his energy was caught and stored by the Legion who then reassembled him in the future. Heck, he even has the same disintegration affect that the zeta tubes have.

But anyway, don't be discouraged if Wally isn't in the Phantom Zone. With the Legion of Superheroes, the time travel, the phantom zone, Superboy and Kid Flash's deaths, all of it is following Final Crisis: Legion of Three Worlds pretty closely. We're getting both boys back.

#dc #young justice: phantoms #young justice phantoms #young justice season 4 #yjs4 #yjspoilers #conner kent #superboy #kid Flash #wally west #yj theories #yj theory

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dollslayer · 3 years

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Botanical Interest

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You’re a florist working the wedding of Brooklyn’s most respected mob boss when you catch the eye of his best man.

W/C: 1557

Warnings: Allusions to violence, swearing, copious amounts of blushing

A/N: My second ever fic! I wrote this as an entry to @stargazingfangirl18 ‘s Soft Dark 5k Challenge (congrats!) using dialogue prompt 9 (bolded) with a Mob!AU. No smut, just fluff. While I’m a sucker for Soft!Dark I thought I’d keep it light and fluffy! Might enter a second one with some darker themes.

I’m brand new to writing and the fandom so if you want you can check out my first fic (also a Mob!AU!) and please reach out with any and all comments or thoughts! I’m eager to know!! Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

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The first time you saw him you didn’t actually see him because you ran square into him while you were looking the other way. Stubbing your nose right into his chest and nearly spilling the contents of the box you were holding.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’ve got so much to do so I’ve been running around and I just didn’t see you I’m-“

“Forgiven. You’re forgiven, sweetheart” a smoky voice with confidence and amusement informed you.

You loved being a florist but you were short handed for this wedding and needed to get a move on. You wouldn’t have taken the job but the infamous Bucky Barnes, King of Brooklyn himself was getting married. It would be great exposure for you but when a man like him asks something of you you don’t exactly have a choice. In all the chaos of it you didn’t watch your step.

Cheeks still burning with embarrassment, your eyes met those of Barnes’ right hand man, Steve Rogers. Now you weren’t just embarrassed you were nervous.

Taking a step back and shuffling the box in your hands you sent him a sheepish smile. “Right, well, sorry again. I’ve really got a lot to do before the ceremony, so...” trailing off you started to walk away. Just distract yourself with the work and try not to worry whether you’d just offended a member of the mob.

—————————————

Steve nodded and gave you a small smile, letting you return to the task at hand. There was some issue with the venue and the owners were being stubborn but the wedding planner was busy putting out a different fire. So, being the best man that he was, he decided to come down and use his ‘persuasive skills’.

He almost forgot what he was there for as he watched you walk away. Sure, you looked a little crazed in your work but you were cute. Frazzled but determined as you tinkered with the centerpieces, he let himself be distracted for a moment.

Sighing as his phone buzzed asking for an update on the venue, he shook his head. With a scowl he straightened his posture and clenched his fists as he set off in search of the property manager. Poor bastard.

—————————

30 minutes, 2 punches, and one very credible threat later Steve was leaving the manager's office. He held the door and looked at the man one last time, “And I think I’ll stay to make sure you don’t get any ideas about going back on the agreement.”

At least that was his excuse for sticking around. He still had some time before he needed to get changed so he ambled around until he spotted you across the large room. Planting himself against the wall, a tiny smile on his face as he watched you place each stem with care.

You still looked a little pressed but he could tell you were really enjoying what you were doing. He liked to see a woman hard at work and good at what she does. He liked seeing you so flustered earlier when you ran into him. The heat flooding to your face told him you knew exactly who he was. Good.

Bending to reach a stray peony he took a moment to admire your body. He had to wonder if the blush on your face earlier would be the same one you’d have when he’d whisper dirty things into your ear.

Letting his imagination wander a little bit he didn’t realize you’d gone outside. Maybe it was a good time for Steve to step out and have a smoke.

———————————

You felt some relief as you saw him take off in another direction and felt relief. Finally letting yourself relax a bit you started on the arch. You heard yelling from down the hall but decided to ignore it, you didn’t have time to worry about it.

Some time later you were still working on the arch when you noticed something in the corner of your eye. Taking a moment to look up you saw that it was Steve. What was he doing? Whatever. He said he forgave you just focus on the arch. You worked the best you could to not let his presence bother you.

Finally done with the arch, you needed to go back to the van for more supplies and finishing touches. Letting yourself forget about your unexpected company you climbed into the back of the van and hauled out some boxes.

“You need help with that, sweetheart?” He offered.

You hadn’t expected him out here and let out a shriek. Jesus Christ is he following me now? Steve casually walked over to you with a quirk in his brow waiting for an answer.

“I- Uh, no. No, I’m good. I’m great, actually. My assistant is somewhere around so I don’t need help so you can just, uh, go, I guess. Thanks though.” How you managed to get the entire sentence out only stumbling slightly in your words was beyond you.

“Alright. Well if you need some muscle or a strong set of hands... I’ll be around for a while.” He responded while sporting what you were sure was his signature grin.

You watched him make his way back inside and let out the breath you definitely knew you were holding. Just finish the flowers and get out. You can do this.

—————————

The reception was winding down and you waited for the last guests to leave before you started disassembling things. Waiting out back with the van and your assistant you thought back to your awkward interactions with Steve.

You knew he was dangerous, or at least what he did was dangerous. He didn’t say one threatening word to you and he still had your palms sweating. Hopefully the wedding party would be long gone and you wouldn’t have to see him again.

The lights were starting to come up and you put yourself to task but before you did you took a moment to really admire the arch. Hours of work, hundreds of peonies and ranunculus and so much greenery all put together in one beautiful piece. You couldn’t help but snag a picture.

“It really is gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as you though.” That voice again, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Jesus Christ!” Startled for the second time by him that night your anger got the better of you. “What’s your deal huh? Why are you watching me? Am I on some list now?”

He barked out a laugh in response. “I swear I didn’t mean to start watching you, it just sort of... happened” He admittedly almost sheepishly. “You’re cute when you’re focused, you’re also cute when you’re mad.”

You could only blink at him. What do you even say to that? ‘Thanks, I find you terrifying’? “Um, thanks, I guess.” Good enough.

He held his hand out to you. “Steve Rogers.” You held your hand out to shake when he took it and kissed it instead. You stated your name as calm as you could. When he released your hand you noticed some bruises on his knuckles. Lest you forget who he is.

He seemed to notice you caught that detail. “Don’t worry. I don’t hurt anyone who don’t deserve it, certainly could never hurt a pretty face like yours.” You blushed at the compliment and turned your head.

“I… should probably get back to the flowers. Don’t wanna be here all night.” You shifted your attention to the arch and began the process of dismantling it.

“I wouldn’t mind it. Here, Doll”. He noticed you searching around for your tools and handed them to you. “Let me help you, these things look heavy”. You really shouldn’t. A piece of you kept placing this warning around him but every time he opened his mouth he was so sweet. How could you say no?

____________________________

So that’s how the big scary mobster found himself surrounded by flowers and skipping out on the after party. He asked you about yourself, how you got into floristry, he listened to you geek out about flowers. You asked him about himself and he did his best to answer while trying not to scare you off. Something about how confident you were in your work but how shy you got reeled him in. He didn’t care who saw him grinning like an idiot at you.

As he helped you load the last of your things and close the back doors of your van he leaned against it. “So, the Brooklyn Botanic Garden is just around the corner from my place but I’ve never been. Think a professional like you could spare some time for an uninformed punk like myself?”

______________________________

Was he asking you out? You couldn’t fight the growing smile on your face. You know what he does is… less than ideal but talking to him you really felt good chemistry between the two of you. He was funny and genuine and those moments where he was a little shy telling you about growing up as a scrawny kid had you feeling like you were peeking in on a side of him that you’d never expect. You looked up at him still smiling.

“Oh what the hell? When are you free?”

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #steve rogers x reader #mob!Steve rogers #Mob AU #Mob!Steve rogers x reader #Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers #fluff #marvel fanfic #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!AU

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stylistiquements · 3 years

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There was the silence and there were the stars | Corpse husband x reader -Among Us AU

Among us AU : There was something. Something in the silence and the harsh coldness -that only space was capable of- that turned your brain into a sarcastic and bored mess. Maybe that’s why you found yourself so interested by any sabotage pulled on the crewmates, maybe that’s what made him so interesting to witness. He was different from the rest of you. Different to an extend you were about to understand.

❚ Word count : 4.2k ❚ Warning : A bit angsty but you will get that fluffity fluff and touch starve feeling you require I promise ; swearing ❚ Note : there will be no mention of death or killing as it is basically a real life Among us, just some shenanigans. Y/C : your/color

A/N : This little thing was inspired by -⭐️ anon. It was a fun thing to write even though it took me way too long because I asked my brain “sir may I pls have the focus capacity I need” and brain said no (: so yeah, this is litteraly just me ranting n complaining about space. This is a bit angsty but as what if is way too happy for me that was a nice opportunity. I hope you won’t mind and appreciate it anyway. As always just let me know. As it’s my first time writing like a one shot thingy I’m really curious to know. Also it’s supposed to be proofread but if you find any mistake just take ur glasses off. Thanks. Enjoy the wild ride.

You met him again. He was fixing wires while you were downloading some files on the computer. Difficulties happened regularly around here; various oddities that occurred from time to time, sometimes a few times a day. It would go from doors closing mysteriously to no electricity, you never knew which one it would be. Those inconveniences used to draw a smile on your lips, a grin you tried your best to hide from everyone else. The sound of the urging siren resounded in your head like a call, reviving the last spared spark left in your brain. At this point, you were pretty sure it was one of your crewmates’ doing, too many coincidences for any other options to be left. You didn’t mind though. The game started months ago but still amused you to this day.

He never let a word escape his mouth. To your awareness, no one knew anything about him, no one had ever heard the sound of his voice which you could only dare to imagine since the two of you met. It felt silly, you fabricated this voice inside your head, a half-finished melody you played to keep your mind busy. It would have sounded just as an old piano would. So slightly out of tune that maybe, if you didn’t care enough or wished for it not to be true, you wouldn’t even notice.

You called him black. It resonated with the color of his suit and the darkness that emanated from his soul. Not that he looked like a mischievous character, but rather like someone who would have been gnawed by life for years. A shade that reminded you of the bittersweet feeling 4 AM forced you to taste. Describing that presentiment was a challenge you couldn’t take. It was one of those things that had to be felt, not narrated.

Shit.

He caught you staring again. How could you look any other way? There was something with him that appealed to you, that pulled your eyes toward his direction every time. Probably only a peak of unwarranted curiosity you couldn’t really be blamed for, probably the oh-so mysterious aura that floated so carelessly around him. He always had this way of sneaking in and out, just as if he was nothing but his own shadow.

Yet, being near him was easy. Silence only felt comfortable when he was in your surroundings. The whole world stopped existing -and it had in fact since the first day you two met.

He had dark charcoal hair which fell so perfectly in curly strands around the two horns that crowned over his head. Paired with two ruby hued eyes, he truly was a sight for sore eyes. A wicked and breathtaking beauty, so unique it gave you the impression that he wasn’t even human.

He used to hop in a vent after finishing his tasks. As if his true home was there; a secret hideout for him and him only. You didn’t even know it was a thing before you watched it with your own eyes. Who wouldn’t blame him. If you could have escaped that warmth deprived place too, even for 5 minutes, you would have.

That’s why you never asked any question about it nor tried to investigate further. Being stuck in space was only a kid’s fantasy, nothing a fully conscious adult would inflict to themselves. Which, in itself, was pretty much self-explanatory about everyone’s mental condition in here.

It was also a pre-established rule, no questions. No one ever expressed it out loud, but you would have to be a fool not to guess it. Every crewmate grew accustomed to the deadly silence only space had to offer. A giant timeless hole where nothing really happened. With nothing but the smell of technology and the constant purr of engines as the only distractions left. See, living in a spaceship was no ordinary lifestyle : days and nights melted into each other until it became nothing but a groundless concept. The crewmates perceived it as comforting for some reason. You used to shrug it off, no questions. How unethical would you be to disturb their peace?

If you had to be honest, you would probably say that you felt bad for Black. Nothing like pity, but being alone in this stark and brutal silence for this long must have been pretty life-consuming. That’s why, even though it made your cheeks and the tip of your ears flame up in a raw and unforgivable tint of pink, you always kept looking into his eyes for one more second after he noticed you. Just to be sure he knew that he wasn’t alone in this shit hole. You stared into the depth of those ruby eyes, hunting for silent answers to questions you weren’t even sure of in the first place. He never quivered, only stood motionless until his task was completed. Just locking the eye contact. After that, he always ran away as silently as he existed. Leaving your head disturbingly empty.

Every single time.

Something changed one day. You were about to prepare some test samples when it happened. He jumped off a vent and you followed his movements from the corner of your eyes, too distracted to remember about the task that was assigned to you. He ran to the door and proceeded to shut it. Within the last second, the one that always lasted hours, he put an index in front of his mouth. Silently asking for you not to say a word. And before the steel door could obstruct your vision completely, you noticed a smile on his lips. A smile that made the whole spaceship turn inside out, draining the blood out of your body in a painstaking, almost sore way. There you stood, intoxicated by stupefaction and trapped as a cat.

Black mutated you into a self-depreciating joke : in here, you were only interestied in the impostor. The only one who made your day a little better was the one giving nightmares to the others.

It was him, from the beginning. It was him and he smiled. A grin that twinkled maliciously from his lips to his eyes, wounding your heart in an insoluble way. It made every prejudice you had about him crumble : he was no longer that miserable existence you sensed he was but a quiescent sun that could radiate all around him once unleashed into the world. How did he do that? How could he be both the tunnel and the light at the end of it?

When red came to the rescue, she described you with a glare. She judged you in the not-so-pleasant way. You could always count on those glares to know their opinions about you. Because their judgment would have to be expressed one way or another. She thought you looked suspicious, with your half poured concoction into a hand and the rest of it in the other, just staring blankly into the void. You wouldn’t blame her for that.

It stuck with you for days, filling your empty mind with the sight of a smile that could no longer be experienced. The scene shamelessly repeated itself in your mind until it became nothing but a progression of disassembled images, forcing you to taste the astonishment over and over again. The problem was, you hadn’t seen him for days. And, even though you wanted to know what happened, you couldn’t ask. That was the rule.

What would you say anyway ? Black is the imposter and I watched him close medbay’s door ? Yeah, I don’t think so. You should have stopped him in the first place -and you would have if you weren’t just mesmerized.

So, you took each day -or night … or piece of time, whatever you wanted to call it since it was no longer existent- with composure. Forcing yourself to do any task with a meticulousness that didn’t look like you. Just to make sure your brain was busy enough not to think about it or him. Being trapped in a place and being trapped in your own mind are two different wrestles, yet in here those two intertwined perfectly. Just like the rest of it, it didn’t even make any sense : the guy smiled at you for ten seconds and here you were, an absolute clutter of questions and recollection. You were probably just too bored and he, as always, was the perfect distraction. That must have been it, right?

You walked in admin. Your heart skipped a beat before your eyes could process who stood in front of them.

Look what the cat dragged in.

His hair twirled flawlessly above his face, almost hiding a grimace that indicated so transparently his mind. You leaned against the door frame and crossed your arms, unabashedly watching him as he swiped his card frantically while sighting heavily every time that “bip” of failure rang.

Eventually, he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. You tried anyway, staring at him as if he was some sort of work of art that needed to be decrypted. From the way his chest moved heavily under the pressure of the irritation to the way his glowing eyes witnessed you. This expression on his face gave him a funny look, a scowl which made the laugh that tickled your throat hard to hold back.

“Y-you have to do it slower. Otherwise, it won’t work” you stuttered. “I guess it’s harder since …”

You walked to him carefully, so carefully you forgot your words. Just as if he was a wild animal who could run away if scared. Making sure no step would fall out of line. He was so close, so close, maybe if you tried to catch him this time he would stop running away.

“Since it’s not my job, right ? Is that what you were about to say ?” he asked with a low voice, a voice you would have never dared to picture for him. Not the broken tone you pictured but a melody so sweet and so unique it felt like it was made just for your ears to enjoy, taunting you to dive into his mind.

“Do you need help” ?

“I- hum- You’re not supposed to help me, you know ?” he stuttered, visibly amused, judging by the way his eyes wrinkled under his smile.

“Are you gonna lock me in the room once again ?” He shook his head as a chuckle escaped from his lips. “Then who cares” you finally breathed.

Your fingers brushed against his warm skin as you grabbed the card. You tried to appear unbothered, hoping so intensely for the swipe to be a first try success. That way, maybe he wouldn’t notice the way you breathed heavily under the weight of your pounding heart. But those red eyes piercing through the depth of your soul were hardly bearable for those like you who suffered from unbeknownst afflictions.

You grew aware of his every move, the way those eyes fell on you, the perfume that emanated from his skin, the sound of his slow yet noticeable respiration.

You gave him his card back and he captured your fingers in the palm of his hand, making it impossible for you to escape his grip. Hiding those blushing cheeks from a sight that seemed to see everything was a defiance only the proudest people would be capable of. It wasn’t your case, but you counted on preserving the last sane cells left in your body.

“Your secret is safe with me.” You whispered, avoiding any eye contact.

“I know that.”

A simple answer that would never be enough to satisfy you. Yet, before you could review the best option of an answer, he left. Just as he always did, he walked away silently -still this time it seemed to last an eternity- while you just stood there inertly as you watched his black silhouette disappear into the endless gray hallways.

You finally caught the breath you had been holding this whole time. Leaning over, you observed your reflection into the screen of the digital tablet as you rubbed your hands together, hoping for that strange spike of electricity that ran through your fingers to fade away quickly. A mess.

“There you are, Corpse” green said as he sat cross-legged in black’s secret place “I’ve been looking for you.”

Corpse was the name green chose for Black, feeling like it would be the most suitable image for the one who always worked in the shadow. Not the most refined nickname, yet black ironically related to that. Silent as a Corpse, he thought. A level of sarcasm that amused him and which probably led to him immediately falling in love with it.

Corpse observed the little sprout on the top of Green’s head. It floated lightly and followed his every move. What a little freak. Just a thing deprived of any sort of self consciousness, out of this world just like he felt he was. Corpse remained fixated on it, hoping he could get as self-aware as it was. The last impromptu reunion he had with you was nothing he had planned, nothing that should have happened. He wouldn’t exactly call it a mistake and still, he had no one else but him to blame.

“Did something happened with y/c ? You seem a little flustered.” Green asked, pulling Corpse out of his overflowed mind.

“I don’t know, I think I kinda fucked up.” He replied with a shrug. “I’ve been spotted.”

“Was it really a mistake ?”

Green was the only one who was granted with the privilege of learning how to understand Corpse. Because, deep inside, they grew up to be the same kind : the kind that didn’t belong here. Two sides of the same coin.

Green’s social intelligence, on the other hand, Black didn’t like it that much. Thanks to that guy, he would be able to work comfortably in the darkness, where no one could see him, but it also meant that he saw clearly what was going through Corpse’s mind. Actually, it didn’t take him too long.

What was the surprise when he realized it was you who lived rent-free in his thoughts? See, in Corpse’s eyes you were different from the others : too conscious about the reality that happened before yours eyes. It made you interesting to observe. What a delightful sight it was to watch you rolling your eyes in your crewmates’ face, to notice the serious look you had when you were focused on a task, the way your eyes sparkled every time a new sabotage was made. He wouldn’t track you, yet he would never resist a peek once your paths crossed. It happened often, more than you actually realized.

Yet, Corpse was no fool. You and him never belonged together. You were destined to a bright destiny and he was the obscurity. That’s why he was more than careful not to get too close, not to see his bare mind get burnt under the exposition of those peculiar feelings in the pit of his stomach.

That’s why his previous reaction made no sense to him. But what could he say? You took him aback when those words were directed at him. You made his short-circuited brain unable to be sensible anymore. He just wanted to know what your touch would feel like under his fingers. Why was his skin blazing with electricity now ?

Corpse swallowed it all. From the blossoming feeling inside his body and mind to the warmth and the softness of your skin. He couldn’t feel that way. “I’m not really sure.” he finally said, as honest as he could be with himself.

He would spend his next few days planning with Green, cornering you to a small part of his brain. You couldn’t be there, you had no right to be. The game was progressing faster than they anticipated it. It made him thrilled, accepting the challenge no one but the two of them could bear.

However, a new unwanted seed grew into his mind. The idea that, maybe, you were only by his side in this game. That, maybe he would never be able to witness your existence in the real world.

“Have you ever noticed how weird the stars look sometimes ?” Corpse asked as he joined navigation. You jumped and your mind turned into a scattered place stuck between a task you battled to achieve and the proximity left between the two of you. Your heart beat in rhythm with his echoing, never ending footsteps. Still you had, indeed, noticed. “It’s like they’re not even real” you answered with a smile that made your voice higher. A melodic lift that betrayed your intention of ever finishing your job.

When you finally looked at him, his lips moved into a satisfied curve. Shivers tickled your arms and your neck. Maybe because he was just standing so perfectly still in front of the glass window. So perfectly still that, among all those celestial bodies, he appeared to be the most beautiful one. “Mind keeping me company for a bit?” Your mouth betrayed you when the question escaped your grip. But Corpse snorted faintly and shook his head.

“From all the people in here you want to spend time with me ? That’s probably not your wisest decision.” He said as he tried to muffle a high pitch laugh with a hand that covered his mouth.

See, that’s the words he had been afraid of since the first time he saw you. The words he would have to turn into derision since he knew he would have no strength to refuse. Yet, you stood there with those glimmering eyes and those eyebrows that arched in a strange manner, cutting every single inch of air out of his lungs. Even if he wanted to say no -and he should- he wouldn’t have been able to.

It was never meant to happen, not judging by your two so hostily opposed nature. Fuck that shit. Who cared about that speech when you were here and you were so beautiful?

You moved closer to him, a strenuous and slow tense that shouldn’t be disregarded. You’ve had seen the same scenery for months yet never it made you feel the same way as you did at that very moment. Because those balls of lights floating into the void shimmered in his ruby hued iris just as a dozen of fireflies would. He made your world a little blurry, narrowed to his presence at your side.

“You forgave me really easily the last time we met.” He noticed. “That’s a little sus if you asked me.”

“Well, what can I say ? You’re the only distraction I have left, so I’m not really in the position to hold grudges.” You shrugged sarcastically.

“You’re really funny, I have to concede that” he said as his smile made its way to his eyes.

Your brutally honest words intertwined with his chuckles and crewmates never heard the spaceship as lively as that time. That time when you got to discover who Corpse really was. A man who hid his blooming existence behind a silence.

“Why did you stay silent this whole time ?” You dared to ask before the silence fell upon the two of you, a silence that maybe you wouldn’t be able to endure this time.

“Because I never wanted to lie”

“I- ...hum- there’s really nothing I could say against that, right ?”

With every grin, every chuckle, every abrupt eye contact, your proximity kept embedding his mind a little deeper until you stole the stars’ show completely. It’s no good, you held his breath hostage when he realized he could feel the warmth stemming out of your skin. So tempted to get closer and witness it with further clearness.

Thus, he lifted a hand that starved connection. He tried to close the gap between your two touches so prudently, so discreetly that you didn’t even notice. A touch, that would go beyond his movement, more like a proof he needed to make sure someone like you really existed in a shithole like this.

He was so close.

Yet, the alarm rang before he could embrace the object of his desire. “Better check that out quickly” you said with a sigh. Somehow, it felt peculiar just knowing that, this time, you were the one running away. A sense of some sort of joke played by space. As if space hadn’t done enough. When Green cut the communication, he couldn’t realize -If only he knew the double meaning of that sabotage. Ah, the irony of it all.

“I’ll see you soon” Corpse informed you, more of a promise than a farewell and he stayed there long enough, staring numbly at his hand.

You ran until the communication room, holding this bittersweet feeling on the tip of your tongue. You tried to swallow it and almost found yourself praying that no one would arrive before you could. This way, maybe your fugue would make more sense.

Blue was already sitting on the floor, trying to find the good frequencies. “I’m already on it.” she said on a plain, monotone voice. Of course, she fucking would be.

Now what was left to do ? Corpse was probably already gone and-and the silence … the silence had returned. A dead, cold, cruel silence. It tested out your nerves, built up some pressure down your throat that made keeping your composure barely possible. Corpse slipped between your fingers again. The game was no longer a funny and pleasant diversion from the plain, austere daily life you had. You grew tired of that cat and mouse game. You just wanted him.

After going back to the oh-so empty navigation room, you completed your tasks. And you were finally done. You wandered around for hours, days -who knows-, searching for a purpose.

The game was coming to an end, you could feel it. Something in the air changed, it became dryer than ever. Unbearable on your skin that ached for something you couldn’t apprehend. The crewmates were agitated, everyone kept running around day and night just to make sure the last tasks would be completed as soon as possible. New difficulties were triggered almost as soon as the last ones ended. Chaos.

Just as if he wasn’t ready to end the game so soon, as if he didn’t want to get the hell out of this place as much as you did. From time to time, you almost found yourself eager to ignore the alarm. Taunting him one last time by neglecting his call.

Maybe that way he would show up, maybe that way he would stay with you. Yeah, maybe that way he would stop being nothing but an ephemeral being that almost made you wonder if you finally gave up on your mind to the silence. Because at that moment he only felt like a chimera your brain created to protect you. Because you were just so fucking bored.

You gave up on that idea, turning on the CCTV as you sighed. Just to see more colorful suits running around, trying to hold their shit together for what appeared to be the ultimate hour. Despite all the sabotages, it seemed like your number made your strength. You imagined Corpse’s face, probably piqued. A dark frown covering his pretty eyes. It made your lips twitch for a second. Who knew it would end this way ? Definitely not you.

Yet that amused smile faded away when you heard the familiar sound of the door closing, locking you in yet another time. You rolled your eyes and turned around, unprepared to witness who locked themselves with you. His body laid against the door, guarding it as his chest moved frenetically under the weight of his rushing breath.

“This is the end” he whispered frantically under his breath. He doesn’t look as worried as you thought he would, but it didn’t matter. You moved impulsively toward him, never stopping until he snaked a hand around your waist and slipped the other one in your back. That way, this time, there were no escape.

He let his head rest in the hollow of your neck, soaking the divine and comforting warmth you had to offer. His warm breath on your skin sent shivers through your body which responded by squeezing him a little tighter, holding him as close to your heart as humanly possible. You could feel his, beating so fast.

“This is the end.” His whisper grounded on your skin.

He lifted his head to dive into your eyes with the same sweet smile you offered him. The one which expressed the happiness, the relievment it felt to embrace him.

“If it were for you, I would do it all over again.” You said, pressing your forehead against his, sharing a breath as you closed your eyes. One last attempt to memorize everything about him. You sensed his smile, so wide you didn’t even have to look at it to see. He left a trail of kisses on your cheeks and your hand wandered in his hair as a faint gasp escaped your lips.

Corpse looked back at you. And then, as his thumb drew light circles on your cheek. With glowing eyes that translated all the adoration he felt for you, he whispered “Maybe it was just meant to be”. And then, he closed the distance between the two of you, brushing your lips softly at first before capturing them completely once he was sure you felt the same way as he did. A kiss that tasted like 4AM and home.

“I’ll find my way back to you, my love. I’ll find you in the real world.” He promised.

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #among us au #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse scenario #corpse imagine #corpse among us #corpse fluf #corpse angst

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ms-demeanor · 5 years

Text

You know what’s funny is whenever I make a tech post I get people going “this is blatantly untrue” and I get people going “this is really good information and everyone needs to know it” and the dividing line is how much time you spend with people who are tech literate.

Yep, I would tell my computer savvy friends where they could get keycaps and fix their keyboards; I don’t even have to bother telling my computer savvy friends how to run a fifteen year old laptop because we’re all pretty good at it.

But GODDAMN I just read a response to my “cheap computer season” post that claimed that it was totally reasonable to run a macbook from 2010 and

Look.

That’s not a reasonable thing to tell a student who needs a functional computer to do research and write papers. (have fun trying to find installation discs from when the OS was still named after cats and have fun trying to get a browser to get along with that OS)

You know why most people bring me laptops with missing keys? Because the key got ripped off by their two-year-old and damaged the soldering in the keyboard and I have no idea it’s going to be “oh, yeah, that’s a ten dollar fix” or “sorry, that’s going to be an hour and a half to disassemble and reassemble and we’ll have to order you a new keyboard specific to that model out of new old stock” and the thing is the second one is much, much, much more common in my experience than the first.

Do I think you need to replace a laptop when the bezel is cracked? No. I also don’t carry my laptop powered on in the bag with a flashdrive sticking out of the USB port. Customers do weird things that I don’t understand and when a customer tells me they want me to fix the bezel they think it’s a twenty-dollar snap-on repair because they have no idea how this works and then they get mad at me when I explain “no, you’ve gotta have this specific piece of plastic, these haven’t been made in five years, and you might be better off buying a used model online than trying to track down a new bezel.”

So here’s the thing: Can Macs get viruses?

There are three answers here.

“No, of course not, Macs are made to be virus-proof”

“Macs need antivirus protection because, while it is less common than infections for PCs, there are types of malware that can infect macs and it’s worthwhile to guard against that”

“tEcHnIcAlLy a virus has to be self-replicating and IOS’s file management system [or some other bullshit] prevents that so TECHNICALLY Macs can’t get viruses and what you need is anti-malware software if you need anything because you’re fairly likely to have security through obscurity”

I’m aware of the third position and voicing the second position to people who believe the first position.

YES TECHNICALLY YOU CAN KEEP A COMPUTER RUNNING INDEFINITELY AND YES IT’S TOTALLY POSSIBLE YOUR LAPTOP WILL LAST TEN YEARS.

“Well if you treat it right and run it well it’ll be in great shape for a long time”

YES THAT IS CORRECT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PEOPLE WHO DON’T WORK ON THEIR OWN CARS DRIVE AROUND WITH THE OIL CHANGE LIGHT ON FOR MONTHS?!?

Tons of people in the world today use computers. They use computers every day, they use computers at home and at school and at work.

Tons of people drive every day. They use cars for fun and for commuting and for their jobs.

That doesn’t mean that all (or even most, or even half) of the people using these things is any good at keeping them running, or even has the barest idea of how to start tracking down a problem.

Someone in the notes of that post described a green line on their screen and thought that was a symptom of hard drive problems. I don’t have the hours in the day to catch this person up to speed on why a display issue on a laptop isn’t indicative of hard drive issues.

Do you know how much people think it’s going to cost to get data off of a broken drive? Not “won’t power up” not “won’t spin” but “I dropped this and part fell off and now it won’t power up or spin and also the platter is chipped”? I’m going to have to send that shit to a clean room and the customer is *staggered* that it might cost more than a hundred dollars to get their data. “Outrageous, what kind of blackmail operation are you trying to run here, just plug it in and get my pictures.”

A year or so ago I was at Jiffy Lube (ew). I’d been shooting the shit with the mechanic when a parent and child rolled in in a panic. And they should have been panicking! They’d thrown a fucking rod because they’d been driving with no oil in the car for god knows how long because neither of them had had the oil changed in the two years they’d owned the vehicle.

*I* can keep a 30-year-old car running. I can put a belt back on an engine in a dark parking lot with a wrench and a headlamp. I can drop a gas tank and replace my fuel filter and thumb my nose at the mechanics who tried to upsell me on “replacing your old, worn-out air filter” the day after I’d popped a new one into my truck.

These folks couldn’t keep a new car running with three alarms telling them what was wrong.

*I* can power up my 2005 macbook running Leopard and use garage band to record a song or do some design work on my copy of Adobe CS3; I can kludge its FF3.5 browser into playing nice with the internet and accept that it’s going to be a slow piece of shit.

The lady who called me confused by the fact that the password to her email was different than the login information for her grocery store rewards account will not be able to function if she gets a pop-up that says she’s using an outdated browser and will think it’s a virus if her bank won’t let her log in on that browser.

And you know what, I’m kind of sick of this attitude.

I would *fucking adore it* if computers were actually easy to repair; I’d love it if you could run new OSs on old hardware (especially on macs because I think apple are kind of shitheads about planned obsolescence).

But you know what, no, most people *CAN’T* reasonably expect to use a ten-year-old computer and have pleasant experience of it. It’s going to run slow. It’s going to shut down when they don’t want it to. The battery is going to swell slightly with the heat and your touchpad is going to go nuts. Your USB ports will stop working. Standard wear and tear that most people don’t know how to protect against and don’t know how to repair is going to make it harder to use AND software requirements will outstrip the hardware capabilities of the computer.

If your old computer sucks it’s not your fault. If you can’t happily use a 10-year-old laptop to do your homework that’s okay, it wasn’t designed for you to use it that way and YOU SHOULDN’T FEEL GUILTY ABOUT IT.

Because that’s kind of what a lot of these “well anybody should realistically be able to run a laptop from 2010″ responses comes down to: if you need new hardware you’re just not doing it right. If you have to replace your computer you didn’t make good choices when you bought it. If your battery dies it’s because you didn’t take care of it.

No. No. No. No.

This shit is A) designed to fail and B) actually really hard to keep running (hey how many blown capacitors do you think someone has to have on their motherboard before you say it’s not their fault for wanting to replace the laptop)

ALSO SOMEONE IN THE RESPONSES OF THAT POST LITERALLY SAID THAT IF YOUR BATTERY DIED AT THREE YEARS IT WAS BECAUSE YOU WEREN’T DOING THE DRAIN CHARGE CYCLE RIGHT AND FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU. It’s discharge cycles and heat, motherfucker; they are going to fail at some point and people shouldn’t feel bad if their batteries stop working after a couple years.

UGH.

You shouldn’t have to be a mechanic. You shouldn’t have to be a computer technician. Yeah, your shit will last longer if you know how to take care of it but, fuck. Imagine you were still using internet speeds from 2010. Imagine all your devices still had USB 2.0. Imagine you couldn’t log onto your online bank because your hardware won’t run he software that your bank recognizes because the hardware manufacturer decided it won’t support the older hardware.

What I was trying to get across in that initial post was “computers fail, and they fail pretty frequently; your life will be better and you will save money if you plan on replacing them at a regular interval and have reasonable expectations in terms of cost and failure. So buy a cheap computer now because you’re probably going to need one at some point”

And now I’ve got to Do A Yell about how there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism and it’s unreasonable to expect tired, overworked, broke people to become experts in computer repair in order to do their homework or play the goose game.

FUCK THAT.

IT’S CHEAP COMPUTER SEASON MOTHERFUCKERS. LAPTOP FAILURE RATES INCREASE AT THREE TO FIVE YEARS AND DESKTOP FAILURE RATES INCREASE AT FIVE TO SEVEN YEARS. RIGHT NOW THERE ARE DISCOUNTS ON NEW COMPUTERS AND IT’S CHEAP TO GET AN EXTENDED WARRANTY.

LIVE LONG AND PROSPER AND WORK ON COMPUTERS IF YOU WANNA AND PLAN TO REPLACE REGULARLY IF YOU DON’T WANT TO WORK ON COMPUTERS.

ALSO CHANGE YOUR FUCKING OIL YOU’RE PROBABLY DUE.

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kjack89 · 3 years

Note

For the prompts for 300 fics, some kind of angst and reconciliation fic? I know that’s vague but I’m in the mood for some angst with a happy (or not!) ending, and you’re my go to for that :)

Angst with an optional happy ending? Nonny, you know me too well.

This is part 1 of what will be either multi-chaptered or just longer once I get it on AO3, so at the moment we’re just dealing with some light angst, and who doesn’t love that on a Saturday night. Hopefully the second part will be posted in a few days.

E/R, modern AU. Former relationship.

Enjolras pulled his hood even tighter over his blond curls and glanced over his shoulder before reaching up to feel for the key hidden on top of the door jamb. He was surprised, and more than a little concerned, when his fingers touched nothing but very dusty wood, and he chanced another glance over his shoulder before rapping lightly on the door.

The door opened no more than an inch. “Password,” a gruff voice barked, and Enjolras sighed.

He really should’ve known.

“Grantaire, if you don’t let me in, I will break down the door and use one of the splintered pieces of wood to kill you,” he said, as patiently and politely as he could, just in case someone was listening.

Grantaire opened the door enough to admit him, closing it after him and locking the doorknob lock and deadbolt before sliding the chain into place. “Firstly, I’d like to see you try,” he said with a grin that Enjolras did not return. “Secondly, for future reference, the password we were looking for was ‘my full glass’, with a security question of ‘what do I believe in?’.”

Enjolras tugged off his hoodie and balled it up before tossing it onto the couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in the tiny, cramped apartment. “Would you also have accepted ‘nothing’?” he asked waspishly.

“No, but I would’ve accepted ‘absolutely fucking nothing’,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “Adjectives matter.” His smile faded when he caught sight of the shiner beginning to darken around Enjolras’s left eye. “What happened?”

“Same thing that always happens,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning you have other, less visible injuries that you’re not going to do anything about until it’s too late to keep them from getting worse?” he asked dryly

Enjolras rolled his eyes and dug his phone out of his pocket to send a quick text. “What are you even doing here?” he asked, purposefully ignoring Grantaire’s question.

He didn’t see the look Grantaire gave him, but he could hear it plainly enough in his voice. “It’s a safe house,” he said. “I think that’s somewhat self-explanatory.”

“No, I mean—” Enjolras did glance up then, to examine Grantaire for an impatient second before telling him, “I didn’t even see you at the protest.”

Grantaire shrugged. “I’m pretty sure we can charitably refer to that as a riot,” he said.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and looked back down at his phone, which he powered off before disassembling it to remove the SIM card. “Whatever nomenclature you want to give it aside—”

“Speaking of nomenclatures,” Grantaire interrupted, “can we talk about how we’re referring to this as a safe ‘house’?” He flopped down on the couch. “This is a safe studio apartment. And I’m being generous with the term ‘studio’.”

“It’s illegal,” Enjolras informed him without looking up from his phone.

“Well no shit, this place is just plain criminal.”

Enjolras tucked his SIM card in his wallet before setting his phone down on the coffeetable. “No, I mean it was illegally built. It won’t show up on any building schematics or floorplans.”

Grantaire blinked. “Meaning…?”

“Meaning as long as you and I are in here, we don’t exist.”

Understanding flitted across Grantaire’s face. “I can see how that would have its advantages,” he murmured before glancing up at Enjolras. “Speaking of, how long do you think you and I will be staying in this lovely 250 square foot box?”

Enjolras shrugged, going to pour himself a glass of water from the tap in the corner of the apartment designated as the kitchen. “Hard to say,” he said, carrying the water over to the coffeetable and hesitating for only a moment before dropping his cellphone into it. He looked at Grantaire. “I assume you took care of any of your electronics with a GPS signal?”

“Yeah, but unlike you, seeing as how I don’t have the disposable income to just buy a new iPhone after every riot, I just left mine at home.”

“I don’t buy a new phone after every riot,” Enjolras muttered, feeling his ears burning red, and he sat down on the futon with a huff. “Only ones that ended badly and with potential criminal charges.”

“So...every riot.”

“I certainly hope you find yourself amusing enough to get through the next few days,” Enjolras said sourly. “Because we’re going to be here awhile.”

Grantaire groaned and tipped his head back to rest it against the back of the couch. “What did you do this time?” he asked, sounding resigned. “Molotov cocktail? Improvised incendiary device?” He turned his head to give Enjolras a wink. “Of course, that’s more Courfeyrac’s style than yours…”

“None of the above,” Enjolras told him, suddenly wishing he still had his phone to give him something to do with his hands. “I, uh, may have – shoved a cop.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “Shoved?” he repeated. “What does shoved mean in this context?” He didn’t wait for Enjolras’s answer. “And keep in mind that I’m not a cop or a prosecutor before you decide to obfuscate or lie.”

Enjolras shrugged again. “Maybe not, but you could also be tried as an accessory if I explain further.”

“As if I wouldn’t immediately execute my fifth amendment right against self-incrimination.”

Enjolras half-smiled. “Cute,” he said. “But you weren’t there.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow at him. “And it’s on them to prove that,” he said coolly.

“So you’d risk a perjury rap for me?” Enjolras asked skeptically.

Something darkened in Grantaire’s expression. “I’ve risked worse for you,” he muttered, and Enjolras looked away, feeling his face color and hating himself just a little for it.

He bit back his initial response of defensiveness, of turning the tables back on Grantaire and asking him just what, exactly, he had risked over the course of what one could charitably call a relationship and more accurately call a friends with benefits arrangement – but then again, when had they ever been friends? – but something in Grantaire’s expression stopped him.

Or maybe it was just because he was stuck with his ex for the foreseeable future, and even he knew this was a bridge not worth burning right that moment.

“A cop decided to beat up a Black girl,” he said. “She couldn’t have been more than 14, and he didn’t even bother with his baton. She was on the ground and he wouldn’t stop, so I…” He trailed off and shrugged. “I stepped in.”

Grantaire let out a low whistle. “So you’re looking at aggravated battery,” he mused, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s, what, a class X felony? So you’re looking at 6 to 30, unless you can plead it down.”

Enjolras made a face. “Battery’s a stretch,” he said dismissively. “I’ll probably get slapped with aggravated assault.”

“Because the state’s attorney’s office is going to take one look at your record and decide to be generous.”

Enjolras barked a laugh and shook his head. “How do you know all this anyway?”

Grantaire shrugged. “I watch a lot of Law & Order reruns.” He gave Enjolras a critical look. “But potential criminal charges aside, are we just supposed to wait here with no link to the outside world until things blow over or something?”

It was Enjolras’s turn to shrug. “Or something.”

Grantaire sighed. “Great,” he said mournfully. “Well, thankfully, I was planning on quitting my job anyway, or I’d definitely be fired after this next round of no-call, no-shows.” He shoved himself up off the couch and slumped over to the small refrigerator humming ominously in the kitchen, and he opened the tiny freezer portion, pulling out a miniature ice cube tray. “That’s just pathetic,” he said, shaking his head.

Enjolras frowned. “Please don’t tell me you’re already making yourself a drink.”

“Hilarious,” Grantaire said. “But I already checked, and the only booze someone thought to stock this joint with is a couple bottles of bourbon, and I take my bourbon neat.” He cracked the ice cube tray into a ragged dishcloth, which he bundled up before carrying it over to Enjolras, holding it out for him. “This is for you, to try to keep that eye from getting worse,” he said, a little gruffly.

“Thanks,” Enjolras said, hesitating for only a moment before taking the dishcloth-wrapped ice and holding up to his eye, wincing at the cold.

Grantaire looked at him carefully. “I’m guessing from the way you’re sitting, you’ve also got hit in the ribs – bruised or broken?”

“I’m sure they’re just bruised,” Enjolras assured him, but judging by the look on Grantaire’s face, he didn’t believe him.

Instead, he returned to the kitchen and refilled the ice tray, placing it back in the freezer. “So what are we gonna do now?” he asked off-handedly.

Enjolras shrugged. “Honestly? I have no idea. I’ve never exactly been someone good at relaxing.”

Grantaire snorted. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Enjolras arched an eyebrow, watching with his one good eye as Grantaire flopped down on the couch again. “You know, there was once a time when you would’ve given anything for it to be just you and me, alone, with no outside world for a few days.”

He had intended for it to be a funny, lighthearted memory, but he knew immediately by the way Grantaire sucked in a breath that it had landed as anything but that. They clearly weren’t to the point of joking about what they’d once had yet – if they’d ever get to that point. “Yeah, well,” Grantaire said, carefully avoiding Enjolras’s eyes, “that was a long time ago.”

Enjolras felt himself flush, but before he could offer some kind of apology, or explanation, Grantaire cleared his throat. “I think I’m just going to take a nap,” he said, still avoiding looking at Enjolras. “Riots really take it out of me.”

“Oh, right,” Enjolras said, hurrying to stand. “You can have the futon—”

“Nope, I got dibs on the couch.”

Enjolras frowned. “Take the futon,” he said. “I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch.”

“And I’m not going to make the person with potentially busted ribs sleep on the couch,” Grantaire shot back. “Besides, I checked out the futon before you arrived, and trust me, you’re not doing me any favors by switching.”

He said it with a sort of forced levity that told Enjolras not to push it further, so he didn’t. “If you say so,” he muttered instead, standing up and making his way over to the small pile of books stacked along one wall, hoping he could find something to keep his attention.

By the time he returned to the futon with a novel that looked like it might do the trick – or at least make him angry enough that he’d have written a very thorough letter to the book’s publisher by the time he got out of there – Grantaire had rolled over onto his side, his back to Enjolras, ostensibly asleep.

But even though it had been a while since they had slept in the same bed, let alone the same room, Enjolras still knew Grantaire well enough to know when he was faking being asleep. And as he cracked open the book he had grabbed, he knew that Grantaire’s too-even breathing definitely indicated that he was not actually sleeping.

Which meant he preferred pretending to sleep to Enjolras’s company.

If that was any indication of how their time stuck together in the safe house was going to go, Enjolras couldn’t help but feel that they would both be very lucky if they made it out of there alive.

>>Read part 2 here>>

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joycrispy · 2 years

Text

It is Missing Daenan Hours

Lately that particular dnd group has been making noises about ending the COVID-induced hiatus, so my thoughts have been with my disgusting high elven neutral-evil warlock again.

He was tiny and weak (STR: fucking five) and objectively kind of awful and for some insane reason he became the heart of the team (he was the only party member who had a good relationship with everyone else, meaning the others would work together for his sake. Also, they wanted to protect him. They thought he was cute. It was wild).

His accomplishments include:

--In SESSION ZERO (which we played in a cafe), he gently asked the wizard to hand him a baby (it’s a mummified baby, but still. The ghost we’re dealing with thinks it’s alive). She did.

He then threw the baby like a football and eldritch blasted it in mid-air.

--...Tries to disassemble the mummified baby into spell components, until the barbarian literally picked him up by the scruff and told him NO.

(our server was like, “...every time I come to this table something awful is happening to a baby” THAT’S DAENAN FOR YA)

--One time, our rogue had a civilian NPC at knifepoint, with the agreement that if he didn’t move he would come to no harm. Daenan didn’t like this particular NPC.

...So Daenan cast Dissonant Whispers at him, successfully without anyone seeing, thereby forcing him to move, and our poor rogue cut his throat, none the wiser.

This is the point where the other players went, “Dude, wait. Is your character evil?”

--Pretended to do a complex blood ritual binding a man to him (performance check!) for no other reason than to terrify him into obedience.

--Saved a spell-slot every night JUST so he could cast Sending and terrorize this one other warlock he knew.

He liked to remind them that he super killed their mom, super killed their brother, and he’s gonna kill them too! And eat parts of him! Probably! Oh, also, he’s an elf, so he doesn’t sleep, so he is always coming for you. Keep that in mind, dear. Ta-ta for now!

(...He did this every night).

--Bought a human child one time. With money.

...This was actually a very altruistic thing in context.

Related: “adopted” every child he ever encountered and sent them to live in his big weird empty house while he was adventuring. Also: let them tell him all about Fortnite.

--The party finds a set of magical rings that grant a permanent AC bonus to a married couple that wears them.

He immediately spins around, gets down on one knee, and proposes to the wizard.

She looks him up and down, and says, “I still get to fuck whoever I want.”

And he goes, “Darling. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

AND THEY WERE WED IN THE EYES OF LYTHANDER.

--The barbarian never really got that this was a marriage of convenience, which was. Extremely funny. The wizard liked to tease Daenan, “I know the one you actually want is [barbarian].”

To which he replied, “No, he’s too much man for me. I’d be split in half. :(”

which was a tpk in a certain sense.

--To that end: he tried to set up the barbarian with a werewolf chick they met in the woods. By giving her our exact address. You know. Where all the orphans live.

...I do miss this asshole.

#oc: stars hide your fires

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Note

Fluffy fftommy idea. Nurse readers cat gets stuck up a tree and runs to the fire station across from her house asking for help. Tommy helps her but the cat isn’t very nice to strangers and nurse reader patched him up after getting the cat down. Fluffy?

it would actually be newt that spots you first

he’s unpacking the ambulance and you’re pacing up and down in front of the firehouse and staring at it, which in retrospect, you realise probably made you look like a threat.

but then he realises he kinda recognises you from the hospital, he’s pretty sure you’re one of the nurses he sees sometimes when he drops people off.

he comes out and asks you if he can help you with anything, and you just kinda break down.

“I did something really stupid, and you’re probably going to laugh at me, which is okay, but I need help, and I didn’t know where else to go-”

“did you set something on fire? because we am handle that, it’s what we do, but we should probably get to it.”

“not exactly.. i opened my window.”

he just kinda stares at you for a minute to explain

“I have this really old indoor house cat and I opened my bedroom window because it’s hot, and he jumped out into a tree and I can’t get him but now he’s stuck and I think he’s going to fall!”

he’s trying not to laugh

“okay, um,-” checks your name tag, still can’t read it and actually lifts it up. “(Y/N). you’re a nurse, right? I’ll send one of our guys over, what’s your address?”

you list it off, right around the corner, and newt is smirking a bit as he watches you go.

because thomas has been hung up on teresa for months now, even though she left him a year ago, because he thinks he has no game left and nobody will want him, and you’re exactly his type. cute and funny, and you need a knight in shining fire truck.

so, he sends thomas over to save a little old lady’s cat, not a hot young nurse. otherwise thomas would have diverted to minho.

thomas stutters a little bit when he walks over and you’re standing there staring up into a tree with a pout on your lips and your hands on your hips, trying to tell a cat to sit still and be patient.

“I-Is this your g-grandma’s cat?”

he’s already setting up a ladder, and he decided you might have the prettiest damn smile he’s every seen as you jump a little and turn to look at him.

“nope, my cat.” thomas just kinda makes an ‘o’ face and blushes, and then you’re giggling a bit, and damn, if that isn’t the prettiest sound he ever heard

and he thinks that nobody, never mind strangers in pale blue scrubs and messy ponytails, should be able to have him whipped this fast

“did you draw the short straw? it would be less embarrassing if I was a little old lady, wouldn’t it? what kind of woman can’t get her own cat out of a tree?”

“the cute ones, apparently.”

he has no idea where that came from, and he kind of wants to choke on own breath, or just keep climbing up into the tree and get stuck with the cat, but then you make that cute little laugh again and he feels better

“well, if I didn’t, I’d never be able to call on handsome firefighters to come to the rescue, huh?”

he slips, and hits his forehead on a branch. he can’t stop smiling though, even when you’re asking him if he’s alright and he should probably be more embarrassed

his head hurts though

when he finally gets the cat, it freaks out, and scrabbles a little bit in his arms, and there’s a fair amount of scratches on his shoulders, arms and jaw when he finally touches ground again, and hands the furry ball of stress to you.

you put him down inside and close the door, and thomas disassembles the ladder, kinda wishing he’s worn a jacket and not just his ‘FD’ t-shirt now.

“you want me to patch you up? those are some mean scratches.”

scratch that, he wishes he’d worn no shirt at all, and taken a little longer bringing the cat back so you had more to patch up.

you invite him inside, and exchange names, and he thinks your perfume smells amazing when you stand close to him to start cleaning up his cuts. it stings a little, and he kinda wants to reach out and grab your legs as you stand between his looking down at him, but he resists the urge.

instead, he asks you about how the cat got into the tree, and what you said to newt when you came by, and about the hospital, to which he promises to say ‘hi’ when he sees you next.

after that, he leaves, and he’s half-way down the road before thinking ‘fuck it’ and making a U-turn and coming right back.

except, you had exactly the same thought, and right as he’s about to knock on the door, you open it, and you barely dodge in time before getting hit in the face.

he holds your face in his hands, looks absolutely mortified at almost having punched you for a second, before the two of you are laughing.

“are you going out?”

“to see you, actually. is that embarrassing?”

he just shrugs a little bit, shoving his hands in his pockets when he realises he’s still holding your face and if he doesn’t let go soon, he might just kiss you.

“you lost your cat in a tree and i hit my head on a tree branch because you called me ‘handsome’, I think we’ve reached out quota for embarrassing. I have none left. which is why I have no shame about walking all the way back here just to ask you out. I didn’t want to wait until I got to see you again at the hospital.”

“a date?”

“that’s what I was hoping.” he does that cute little neck scratch thing as he starts to get shy.

“I was really hoping you’d ask that, actually, but then you left, and I’m not really one to chase after a guy, but I was about to walk all the way to the firehouse again, so, definitely yes.”

he has this cute little bashful grin on his face, before you exchange numbers, and arrange something. dinner, two days from now, real casual. just pizza and a walk around the park. that’s it. and you love it.

before he goes, you place a little kiss to his cheek, and he turns his head, catching your lips instead and grinning when he feels you press back into him just as eagerly. he pulls back before it gets any further.

when he gets back to the firehouse, for real, newt is waiting there and so is everybody else, who newt let in on the plan after he left.

“how’d it go?”

“it was a cat in a tree. I got it down.” everybody sighs a little bit, clearly disappointed, and thomas goes straight to the coffeemaker, back to them all, not seeing their reactions when he smiles to himself and says. “oh, yeah, and I also got a date.”

#firefighter!tommy

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simply-trash5 · 4 years

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PuppetBoy

Okay Kankuro simps, got some more juice for ya! Seriously this was so fun to write. It is a college AU about Kankuro and a reader. I am pretty proud of it. I would love to write some things for you so PLEASE request. Seriously. I’ll even try smut (I’ve never written it before so we’ll see how it goes). Drop them in the ask box and if you like what you read you should totally tell me because i am a self conscious bean.

What the hell is that noise? You think to yourself as you look around. It sounded terrible. Whatever car was making that noise was definitely on it’s last leg. You nod your head realizing it was the same guy you see everyday parked across from the education building at your college. You could hear loud metal playing from the speakers and the windows shaking as he pulled into the lot. He jumped out,slammed the door and gave the tire a swift kick. Wow he’s kinda cute. He stood almost 6 ft. tall and had on a black hoodie that hung lightly over his brown hair. His black jeans had rips in the knees and you could see he was wearing scuffed black DocMartens. You continued to follow him with your eyes as he passed you walking toward the theatre building. He had an eyebrow ring and gauges. Oh shit, I think he caught me staring. He looked at you, scoffed and kept walking toward the theatre building. Is he a theatre major? You wondered to yourself. Maybe he just has to take a fine art credit. Letting your thoughts wander you pulled the straps on your bookbag tighter and walked to your class in the education building.

The class seemed to drag on forever, and you knew after that you had to go to your nannying job which would take up most of the evening. You wished that you didn’t have to have a job, but unfortunately scholarships didn’t cover all of your tuition. You grabbed your keys from your pocket and headed toward the parking lot. Climbing into your car you started the engine and began making your way to your job. You loved kids, so nannying was a great gig for you. When you arrived at the home of a doctor in your area you were greeted by a small boy with a large grin. “Ms. Y/N, can we go to the children’s theater today? Mom said we could go if it was okay with you, she even left my booster seat so you can drive!” You giggled and shrunk down to his height. “Well if your mom says it's okay, it's fine by me. Let’s grab your jacket and booster seat and we will leave.” The small child ran into the house. His mother approached you. “Thank you so much for watching Trevor,I know he is a handful but i'm rather fond of him.” You gave her a huge smile and told her that it was no problem and explained that you were going to take him to the children's theatre. She said her goodbyes and you walked into the house to retrieve the boys booster seat so that you all could make the 4:00 production of the Three Little Pigs.

The little boy sitting in front of you on the floor giggled wildly as a wolf puppet “ran” off stage. You smiled down at him. The curtains closed and the crowd gave them a round of applause. The stage hands and puppeteers began to disassemble the set so that they could get ready for the next show when you saw a familiar face. It's car boy. You smiled in his direction, and didn’t realize you may have looked at him a little too long. “Hey, take a picture, it will last longer.” The mysterious boy gave you an annoyed look and a blush began to creep up your face. He was wearing a tight black tshirt that showed off his muscular arms and his tattoo of a sandtimer on his forearm. “Come on Trevor, lets head home,” you said steering the young boy out of the theatre.

“Oh my god what did you say back?” your friend was screeching on the other side of the phone. “Well, see, I just kinda left.” you explained not wanting to relive the embarrassing moment. “Y/N, you have got to do something tomorrow. You’re going to see him in the parking lot and you don’t want it to be weird.” You were twirling your hair around your finger staring at your phone. “Y/N are you still there?” You snapped back to reality, “yeah, I think I will buy him a cup of coffee. I’m sure he never sleeps like the rest of us. He is a college student.” You both finished your conversation and you got ready for bed. You set your alarm early so that you could go to a coffee shop and grab him a coffee to make up for the awkward run-ins you had the last few days.

“God its early” you whined to yourself but got ready anyway. You had to make a better impression on puppet boy. You gathered your things and headed out the door and made your way to a local coffee shop. You grabbed your latte and then decided it was best to just give him black coffee. You drove to your college thinking about the handsome stranger all the way there. His brown hair was shaggy and fell right into his eyes, which you melted at the thought of his hair being pushed out of his face. Your mind started to drift to what your next move would be as you pulled into the parking lot. Okay, it's 7:45 he should be here any minute. Shit what should I do? In a moment of extreme confidence you grabbed a pen out of your backpack and messily scribbled your phone number on the side of the paper cup. God I hope this works. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. You could hear him coming for at least a mile. Alright Y/N you cannot chicken out now. He rolled in and slammed his car door as he had every morning for the earlier part of the semester. It's now or never, you've got this shit. You beelined toward his car. He realized you were approaching and looked at you with a strange face. You immediately got nervous. You just sat the coffee cup on the hood of his car, turned on your heel, and quickly walked to the education building. “HEY! HEY COME BACK!” You heard him calling after you as you continued on your way to class cursing yourself the entire time.

Buzz

You grabbed your phone from your pocket. An unknown number had sent you a text. “How do I know you didn’t drug this coffee so you can turn my corpse into a puppet?” you laughed at the text and a blush spread over your cheeks. “Now why would I do that?” you replied. You typed “Also that is oddly specific” “What can I say, I like puppets?” The conversation continued for the next few days. You saw him a few times on campus but you never spoke in person. He would send you funny memes and videos at all hours of the night. Apparently puppetboy is a night owl. “Um btw, we’ve been talking for days and I still don’t know your name. What should I call you.” “My name is Kankuro.” “Well Kankuro, my name is Y/N. Its nice to put a name with a face.”

Shit I’m never gonna finish this run. You thought to yourself as you continued to run on the treadmill. You had your headphones in and music blaring. You loved to run and hadn’t been to the gym in a few days due to all of your nannying obligations. Okay, only a half mile more to go, you thought to yourself as you pushed your body to keep running. Out of nowhere you felt a large calloused hand on your shoulder. You snapped your head “Hey listen creep I-” before you knew it you were falling only to be caught by Kankuro. “Y/N you falling for me already?” Kankuro flirted giving you a tight smirk. You were shocked, not only by the fall, but by the arms around you. They were strong and helped steady you with ease. He was wearing a dark grey tank top which showed his muscles and tattoo off wonderfully. His legs were muscular too and looked amazing in the black shorts he was wearing. In his other hand he had a pair of boxing gloves. You began to blush and he realized you were staring at him, imagining what he looked like under that tank top. Your hand crept up to your neck where you fiddled with your necklace. He gave you a small chuckle. “I’ve got to go spar with my buddy, but if you want to you can meet me out front in an hour.” You smiled and shook your head and he turned and walked away. The shorts hugged his bottom perfectly and the tank top showed his shoulder muscles. You could see another tattoo on his back. Was it puppet strings? You pursed your lips and began to blush. I would love to see those strings up close.

The hour wait seemed like the longest hour of your life. You waited out in front of the gym as he came bounding out the door. He was sweating and his shaggy hair was sticking to his forehead. He walked over to his car and opened the door. It made a horrendous screech as it opened and you stifled a laugh. “Whats so funny princess? Just for that we gotta walk to get food.” You blushed. Did he just call me princess? Why was that so hot? “Come on, I’m starving,” he said and began walking down the sidewalk. You walked hurriedly to match his long strides. Damn my short legs. “So Kankuro, where are we going?” he gave you a crooked grin. “Its a surprise.” You giggled and retorted “well how do I know you’re not trying to get me alone and turn my corpse into a puppet?” He gave you a devilish grin, “Well sweetheart lets find out.” Another pet name. Your face turned bright red and you stared at the sidewalk. You approach a deli that you frequent with your friends. “I love this place,” you exclaimed. “Well don’t be weird and actually order some food. I like a girl with an appetite.” You laughed and smiled. You ordered your usual and he ordered grabbing your food and heading outside to a table. You both began eating and chatting casually about your lives. You found out he loves horror movies, especially ones that feature creepy dolls or puppets. You also learned that he has a lot of horror memorabilia in his apartment and that he rarely sleeps. He boxes to keep himself busy when hes not working as a children’s puppeteer. He is studying theatre with concentrations in stage management and special effects makeup. “Kankuro, thats really fucking cool,” you said and began to tell him about yourself. You were studying to be a teacher and nannying as a job to make money for college. You lived in an apartment around the corner from the deli with a friend. “So Kankuro I noticed the sand timer on your arm, do you have any other tattoos?” He gave you another devilish grin.”Yeah I have a back piece that is marionette strings. I’ve loved puppets since I was little so I thought it would be cool. Do you have any tattoos?” You blushed. You stood and pulled up your athletic top to show a tattoo of your family's crest on your hip. You had to pull your shorts down ever so slightly revealing your black lacy underwear. He looked at the tattoo and then back to your face. “Thats a nice one,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck. The conversation continued and you all talked more about your semester and your family. You laughed and told him about how you liked to run and also about how you thought it was cool he was a boxer. “Maybe one day we can spar angel,” he flashed a smile in your direction and you smiled back at the thought. You both got up from the table and threw your trash away. It was dark and cool. You pulled your jacked tighter around your shoulders. “I guess I am going to walk home and let you get back to the gym.” Kankuro shook his head “absolutely not doll, its dark and I’m walking you home.” You blushed. Another pet name, this boy is gonna be the death of me.

You began walking toward your apartment and your hands brushed several times by accident. “Damn Y/N if you wanted to hold my hand that bad all you had to do was ask. I aim to please.” You blushed and then punched Kankuro. “Still want to spar?” you said cheekily. You both walked in silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if you had known him your whole life. The comfort of him walking beside you felt so nice. “Well this is my apartment.” You sighed and reached for the door.

BAM

The door slammed shut and you noticed a strong arm beside your face. Kankuro looked down at your lips and smirked. You began to blush. The tension was so thick. I swear im going to pass out. Your heart began racing as he leaned into you. Your back was pressed against the glass of the door with a strong arm beside your head. His other hand made its way to your tattooed hip, he drew circles over your ink with his calloused thumb. His hands were so large that you could feel his fingertips on your back. The heat rose to your cheeks. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. He pulled back, his hand still burning a hole into your hip bone. You opened your eyes to see a smirked Kankuro. You were in shock when he reached his other hand to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. Your thoughts raced, you wanted nothing more to bring him up to your apartment and let him give you that devilish grin some more.

“Guess I’m not a killer princess. Text me.” He chuckled, turned on his heel and walked back toward the gym. You watched him until he walked out of sight. You were ready to see him again and maybe see more of that back tattoo.

#naruto #naruto oneshot #naruto fanfiction #naruto au #kankuro x reader #kankuro au #kankuro #kankuro imagines #naruto imagines #eeeeek #im v nervous #please like it kank simps #trash writes

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bewitching-elizabeth-olsen · 3 years

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Press: A Thorough Breakdown of All the Marvel Easter Eggs on WandaVision

POPSUGAR: WandaVision has finally arrived, and it’s chock-full of hidden goodies for Marvel fans to devour! While the series is built upon a mystery that we’ll be spending a reported nine episodes trying to figure out, the smallest details in each episode provide clues on where the show is heading. From supermarket banners to foreboding commercials, viewers have an abundance of references and callbacks to classic comic lore and pivotal MCU moments. Are they setting the stage for a big reveal at the end, or are they just fun details included for fans to enjoy? While we try to figure it all out, scroll through to see what we’ve gathered! And check back every week for an episode-by-episode breakdown as WandaVision progresses.

WandaVision Episode 5 Easter Eggs

Wanda and Vision’s brand new house, suitable for a family of four, is reminiscent of homes in ’80s sitcoms such as Full House and Growing Pains.

When Agnes comes in to offer her babysitting help, she refers to herself as “Auntie Agnes,” which is eerily close to her comic counterpart’s nickname, Auntie Agatha.

An uncomfortable break in conversation leads Agnes to ask Wanda if she wants her to “take it from the top.” Though Wanda appears confused for a moment, she readily smoothes the conversation and carries on. Vision is visibly perturbed, though Wanda attempts to redirect his attention. It seems like the facade is fading all around.

To the surprise of their parents, Tommy and Billy age up five years while the two argue over Agnes’s break in character.

This episode’s opening sequence shows Wanda and Vision growing up, which we know didn’t happen in real life for the synthezoid. The theme song sounds very similar to those from Family Ties and Growing Pains, and consists of lyrics noting that “we’re just making it up as we go along.” Sounds pretty close to how things are going with Wanda and Vision!

When Wanda’s scans come back, they’re inconclusive and show up blank. Considering Monica gains her powers due to bombardment by extradimensional energies in the comics, it’s entirely possible that the blast from Wanda back in episode three, coupled with passing through the forcefield around Westview twice, have given her those abilities. We could be seeing the rise of Photon!

While Jimmy Woo is explaining Wanda’s backstory to the agents of S.W.O.R.D., Director Hayward asks if she’s ever used a “funny nickname” like the other Avengers. She hasn’t, in fact, she’s never been referred to as Scarlet Witch in the MCU ever. Since her powers are different from her comic book counterpart, there’s never been a reason for anyone to call her a witch.

That never-before-seen post credits scene from Infinity War has officially made its debut. Director Hayward reveals footage of Wanda entering S.W.O.R.D. headquarters to steal Vision’s disassembled body. The video harks back to a moment in the comics where Vision was kidnapped and taken apart — but still very much alive. Much like that Vision, the one in Westview has his memory wiped and doesn’t remember anything before he woke up in his new world. So, the question is whether Vision is actually alive or not. Wanda’s hallucination from episode four might suggest he’s a walking corpse, but there’s more to the story.

Jimmy mentions that Wanda’s stealing of Vision’s body violates the Sokovia Accords, which haven’t been mentioned since Captain America: Civil War. Unfunnily enough, the Accords were a direct response to the mission gone wrong in Lagos where Wanda lost control of her powers and caused the death of many civilians.

Darcy mentions that Vision is playing “Father Knows Best in Surburbia,” referencing the ’50s sitcom.

Tommy and Billy find a dog that, with the help of Auntie Agnes, they name Sparky. The Vision family has a dog with that exact name in the King and Walta comics, but he’s green. Sadly, he meets a similar fate as his live-action counterpart.

Wanda blatantly uses her powers in front of Agnes, who has seemingly handled the magic around her with ease. It’s almost as if she’s used to magic.

Darcy calls the Westview anomaly the “hex” because of its hexagonal shape. Although the magic has been taken out of the phrase, Wanda’s powers are known as hexes in the comics.

Jimmy, Monica, and Darcy try to understand how Wanda can revive Vision and control the Hex, which takes much more power than she’s ever displayed before. Monica notes that Wanda has always been powerful, being the only Avenger who was close to taking down Thanos singlehandedly, which Jimmy interjects to note that Captain Marvel could as well. Both are empowered by Infinity Stones, with Carol’s Kree biology giving her a power boost.

When Jimmy brings up Captain Marvel, Monica is visibly uncomfortable and changes the subject back to Wanda. What happened there?

Vision’s office mates learn about the sweet glory that is dial-up internet! But when he and Norm open their first bit of electronic mail, it’s a transmission picked up from S.W.O.R.D. talking about the Maximoff anomaly.

Vision breaks through Norm’s conditioning, revealing that he’s under the control of a woman (alluding to it being Wanda). He directly references his family, a conversation that Jimmy mentioned in his notes in the last episode.

The twins have aged themselves up to 10 by this point and are seemingly completely aware that Wanda has control over certain aspects of life, like time. They point out that it was Saturday when they woke up, but Wanda says it’s now Monday. She apparently changed the day to send Vision to work. Is their awareness because they also have magic or because she doesn’t control them?

Monica sends an ’80s drone into Westview after working out that Wanda’s Hex is rewriting reality to suit each era occurring in the bubble, and the drone would need no era-appropriate change. Though she attempts to speak with Wanda through the drone, Director Hayward commands agents to fire a missile at Wanda instead — directly ignoring that Monica said she doesn’t see Wanda as a danger. The action results in Wanda leaving the Hex and confronting the S.W.O.R.D. agents outside. She’s wearing the suit we last saw her wearing in Infinity War and Endgame and has her accent back, although it’s much thicker than it’s been since Ultron.

Episode five’s commercial is more pointed than any of them have been. Lagos brand paper towels directly reference the city in which Wanda accidentally killed several people in Civil War by blowing up a building. Thus, the Sokovia Accords were born.

While Wanda and the twins are searching for a missing Sparky — with no one calling out the fact that Wanda disappeared for some time — the mailman tells the boys that their mom “won’t let him get far.” It seems almost like a dig at how no one can leave Westview, like the doctor mentioned during episode three.

When Agnes reveals that Sparky died after eating too many azalea bush leaves, the boys ask their mother to reverse his death. Agnes seems particularly surprised by the idea of Wanda having that ability despite having seen other displays of her power and watching the twins age up rapidly twice. Wanda tells the twins that they can’t reverse death as there are still rules to things, which almost seems hypocritical considering her circumstances. Is she trying to say that she hasn’t revived Vision? Or is she simply trying to keep her boys from expecting too much from her?

Later that night, Vision reveals that he unearthed Norm’s repressed memories and demands to know what’s going on. He tells Wanda that she can’t control him, which she cooly responds asking him, “Can’t I?” Although the credits start rolling, their argument continues as Vision unleashes his frustration with not knowing his past and his confusion over their circumstances. Wanda tells him that she doesn’t control everything, saying, “I don’t even know how all of this started.” Vision believes it began subconsciously, but chastises Wanda for letting it get that far. Wanda reiterates that she isn’t controlling everything, which gives weight to the theory that there’s someone else behind the scenes. But who could it be if Wanda isn’t the “she” that Norm was referring to?

Mid-argument, the Vision family doorbell rings, which Wanda states she didn’t do. I’m inclined to believe her because when she opens the door, she is genuinely shocked speechless. At the door is her “brother” Pietro, now sporting the face of Evan Peters. Darcy asks the question we were all thinking as the episode closes, “She recast Pietro!?”

WandaVision Episode 4 Easter Eggs

This episode opens with the heartbreaking reveal that Monica Rambeau was one of the people lost to the Snapture from Infinity War. She returns from Endgame’s Reverse-Snap in a hospital where she had been awaiting news after her mother Maria’s surgery.

As Monica is waking up, we hear familiar voices echoing in her head. It’s Captain Marvel calling her by her childhood nickname, Lieutenant Trouble.

As Monica weaves through the chaos of people reappearing in the hospital post-Reverse-Snap, she finally locates someone who recognizes her. Although Maria survived the surgery five years ago, she died from cancer three years ago in real time, having not been blipped with her daughter.

We finally have some information on S.W.O.R.D.! The acronym stands for Sentient Weapon Observation Response Division, rather than the meaning in Marvel comics, which is Sentient World. It sounds a little more ominous, right?

Maria’s badass legacy continues well past her friendship with Captain Marvel; according to S.WO.R.D.’s acting director, Tyler Hayward, Maria helped build the agency during its inception. She was the acting director until her death.

Tim gives Monica a mission to help out the FBI in the town of WestView, NJ, where something super freaky is going on with a missing person’s case. This confirms that WestView is, indeed, a very real place.

Welcome back, Jimmy Woo! Monica’s FBI contact is none other than Scott Lang’s parole officer and semifriend, Agent Jimmy Woo.

Jimmy reveals that a person in witness protection has somehow dropped off the map in a town that no longer seems to exist where no one recalls anyone who lived there. In an attempt to figure out what’s going on, Monica sends in a S.W.O.R.D. drone that vanishes inside the forcefield. It’s revealed to have transformed into the retro-style helicopter that Wanda picks up in episode two! We can only assume that since it’s an item from the outside world, it gained color when it entered Wanda’s reality to show that it doesn’t belong.

Darcy Lewis is back! Now a doctor in astrophysics, Darcy is called to help figure out what’s gone wrong with WestView. She’s the one who figured out a signal for the broadcast and is the owner of the hand we saw watching Wanda and Vision in episode one.

The mysterious beekeeper from episode two is revealed to be S.W.O.R.D.’s Agent Franklin, who journeyed through Westview’s sewers to investigate. His hazmat suit became a beekeeper’s uniform, and the cable around his waist becomes a jump rope as he travels through the tunnels.

Darcy explains that the sitcom that’s become Wanda and Vision’s life is literally being broadcast through the signals that S.W.O.R.D.’s viewing, with an audience and everything. There’s no explanation for how this is happening, but Darcy and company watched those first three episodes just like we did, credits and all.

Darcy also points out that Vision is supposed to be dead-dead, which leaves his presence in WestView still unexplained.

While Darcy and Jimmy can identity a majority of the neighbors we’ve met in WestView to their real-life counterparts, Dottie and Agnes are the only ones who are missing real information.

It’s revealed that Agent Woo was the voice behind the radio disruption, just as we suspected! But while we can see Wanda and Dottie’s reaction to the call, Darcy’s broadcast didn’t show the same thing. She explains that someone is “censoring” the visuals they’re receiving, which means someone knows they’re watching.

Back in the sitcom WestView, we see that Monica’s slip-up resulted in Wanda blasting her through the house and the energy field. It’s the first time we physically see Wanda using her powers again, so she still has them. But the lapse in her facade has consequences — when Vision returns from his talk with Agnes and Herb outside, Wanda hallucinates him as she last saw him in Infinity War, a corpse with his head crushed in.

It’s important to note that Vision seems to become more aware of the strangeness of their world with each episode. It makes sense because no matter how human he may seem, he’s still a synthezoid who has always been able to see beyond the superficial. It harks back to his “birth” in Age of Ultron. He’s omnipotent and always learning.

When Monica lands back in the real world, all she says is, “It’s all Wanda.” That seemingly serves as an answer to what’s going on in WestView, but it’s not a whole answer. Wanda seems just as confused and unaware as everyone else, but she is willing to stay in her “perfect” world. The question is, who put Wanda in the position to have her perfect world?

WandaVision Episode 3 Easter Eggs

Much like the comics, Wanda magically becomes pregnant! But this time around, things are progressing much more quickly, and her doctor isn’t Dr. Strange.

The first of the episode’s weird glitches happens with Wanda and Vision’s neighbor Herb, who is attempting to saw through the brick fence separating the two houses instead of trimming his hedges. When Vision points out that his aim has gone a bit askew, Herb’s detached reaction is a bit creepy. He thanks Vision but keeps sawing through the wall! And unlike the previous weird behavior, there’s nothing that triggers the moment, especially not from Vision or Wanda.

Wanda and Vision contemplate what to name their baby boy, with Vision suggesting Billy and Wanda throwing out Tommy. (The argument becomes moot when they have twins!) These are the names of the pair’s sons in the comic, who later become members of the Young Avengers. In the show, Wanda chooses her name because it’s “all-American,” which is also a fair indicator of why her perfect reality is framed around sitcoms. Vision cites William Shakespeare as his inspiration and uses a quote from As You Like It that seems pretty on the nose. “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players” seems like a pointed reference to the fact that WandaVision is, in fact, all a show.

Wanda decorates the nursery using Simser brand paint, which is most likely a nod to Jeremy Simser, a storyboard artist for Marvel Studios and WandaVision.

The second glitch appears when Wanda says the residents of WestView always seem “on the verge of discovering our secret.” Vision has a moment of sobering clarity where he notes that something is wrong in WestView, citing the incidents with Mr. and Mrs. Hart and their neighbor Herb. A second after his says this, reality glitches and the scene starts over with Vision seemingly worry-free. The last time this happened with the beekeeper, it was clear Wanda was the culprit in turning back time, but in this case, she doesn’t seem to do anything to force the change. This suggests someone else is pulling the strings.

Wanda mentions that their child could be human or “synthezoid,” a term that originates in the comics. Although fans like to joke that Vision is an android, he’s technically a synthetic human. He’s not made of metal or machinery — in the comics, his body is composed of the bioengineering tech of Dr. Helen Cho, while in the MCU, he’s made of organic tissue mixed with vibranium and “powered” by the Mind Stone.

Vision jokes that Billy will be just like his mom, which is funny because, in the comics, Billy has magical abilities similar to Wanda’s powers. Tommy ends up having superspeed abilities like his uncle, Pietro.

It’s time for the third commercial! Much like the previous episode’s watch promotion, this break references Hydra — though a tad more directly. It’s all about Hydra Soak, and the message is decidedly more pointed than we’ve had before. “Escape to a world all your own, where your problems float away,” the announcer says. “When you want to get away, but you don’t want to go anywhere: Hydra Soak.” Marvel: Agents of Shield fans will recall that Hydra Soak HAS been mentioned on the show. During the series’s Framework arc, Phil Coulson claims that Hydra is brainwashing people using soap, so he makes his own. Is the commercial another sign that Hydra is behind the mystery of WestView? Is it a warning that no one in the town will be able to get away? And what’s that about finding the goddess within?

The actors in this ad are the same ones as the previous ones, Victoria Blade and Ithamar Enriquez. Their recurring presence might mean they have some significance in Wanda’s life. Maybe they’re her parents?

In what feels like an ominous follow-up to the Hydra Soak commercial, the doctor reveals that he and his wife won’t be taking their trip away after all. “Small towns, you know, so hard to escape,” he mutters, pointedly. I think we’re starting to get the hint, folks! Wanda mentions she is a twin and that her brother was named Pietro. It’s been a hot minute since anyone has talked about MCU’s Quicksilver — he made his debut back in Age of Ultron, the same film in which he was shot and killed.

When Geraldine lets it slip that she knows about Pietro’s death at the hands of Ultron, Wanda interrogates her and discovers her necklace bears a familiar symbol — it’s that damn S.W.O.R.D. logo, and Wanda is apparently not a fan.

In another sign that something is UP, Agnes and Herb seem to warn Vision about Geraldine. They note that she’s “brand new” to town with no family and start to say that “she came here because we’re all —” before they’re cut off. It’s worth noting that the two figures that may be MCU versions of formidable Marvel characters are the ones who seem to understand that strange things are going on in WestView. If Agnes and Herb are the MCU’s Agatha Harkness and High Evolutionary, they would definitely be the ones in the know. But why would they try to warn Vision about Geraldine if WestView is a trap?

Agnes is wearing her infamous brooch as a necklace that could be referencing an MCU supervillain mentioned before. The necklace has three figures close together, with the center figure holding what looks like a giant scythe. Is it another clue that the Grim Reaper is on his way?

Wanda literally throws Geraldine out of town — though she tells Vision that she had to run home — and Geraldine passes through what seems like a magical forcefield. While fans have been assuming WestView is a fake town, this shows us that physically, it’s a very real place. But it’s currently bubbled off with a barrier that Wanda can apparently allow people in and out of. And the song that plays as Geraldine finds herself outside the barrier? “Daydream Believer” by The Monkees. It seems pretty appropriate for a situation that feels like a surreal dream.

When Geraldine lands on the outskirts of real WestView, she’s instantly swarmed by cars and agents all bearing the S.W.O.R.D. logo. Since we know Teyonah Parris is playing the adult Monica Rambeau, it’s safe to assume Geraldine was an alias she used to go undercover in WestView. Combined with the mystery agent watching the show within the show from episode one, we can conclude that Wanda and Vision are being closely observed by S.W.O.R.D. for some reason. But they clearly aren’t the ones in control, since Monica is so easily forced out. What will they do next?

While the opening credits of this episode are a reference to The Brady Bunch, it’s the end credits that give us another clue about the big bad coming our way. Just like the previous episodes, Wanda and Vision are framed in a hexagon as the end credits roll. The symbol is so important because it’s the preferred shape of the creators at Advanced Idea Mechanics, or AIM, who are last seen in Iron Man 3. Remember the beekeeper suits that resemble AIM agents’ clothing? It seems like the evil organization might be making a comeback.

WandaVision Episode 2 Easter Eggs

The opening credits for this episode aren’t just an adorable homage to Bewitched but a whole bevy of Marvel Easter eggs! The illustration of the moon happens to be surrounded by six stars, and we can’t help but be reminded of the Infinity Gauntlet.

When Vision phases through the floor, there’s a dark shape that looks exactly like the helmet worn by Marvel supervillain Grim Reaper hidden in the space. In the comics, he’s the brother of Wonder Man, whose brainwaves were used in Vision’s creation.

When Wanda goes to the supermarket in the opening, three references hang above the aisle! Bova Milk refers to Bova, the humanoid cow who raised Wanda and Pietro on Mount Wundagore. Auntie A’s kitty litter is a witchy reference to Auntie Agatha or Agatha Harkness, whom we’ve discussed before, and her cat-like familiar named Ebony. And Wonder Mints is most definitely a cheeky reference to Wonder Man, aka Simon Williams, the superhero who Vision’s brainwaves are based on in the comics!

When animated Wanda and Vision settle on their couch, the small figure on their side table is a statue of the Whizzer. Featured in 1982’s Vision and the Scarlet Witch, the Whizzer thought he was Wanda’s father but later discovers he was wrong. Whizzer and his wife were offered the chance to adopt Wanda and Pietro when they were kids on the mythical Mount Wundagore, but they declined.

When Wanda hears a crash outside the house, she heads out to the front, where she finds a colorful toy helicopter in an otherwise black-and-white world. Not only does the red-and-yellow helicopter have the number 57 stamped on it, but it also bears the S.W.O.R.D symbol! The number is likely in reference to Vision’s first appearance in Avengers #57, while the symbol hints to the presence of S.W.O.R.D outside Wanda’s perfect world.

The creepy, cult-like refrain spoken by the fundraiser organizers of it all being “for the children” seems to be a reference to Wanda’s involvement in the comic event The Children’s Crusade. The story follows her son, Billy, who’s trying to gain control over his reality-warping abilities by looking for a missing Wanda.

Well, here’s another blast from the angsty past! The Strücker timepiece is a very obvious callback to Hydra and Baron von Strücker. The watch bears the unmistakable octopus skull symbol of Hydra, and Strücker is the Hydra leader who recruited Pietro and Wanda for the experimentation that gave them powers. He was later killed by Ultron in his prison cell. Does anyone else hear that ticking noise? Remember good ol’ Herb? In the comics, a character named Herbert is also the High Evolutionary who runs Mount Wundagore, the very same safe haven where Bova delivered the Maximoff twins. Time will tell if the super-scientist is the same character, but it can’t be a coincidence.

Wanda and Vision’s magic show has two gems that we’ve noticed! First thing, the literal Mind Stone happens to be the design on the doors of the Cabinet of Mystery that plays a huge part in their act. Second, Wanda and Vision use the names Illusion and Glamour for their actor, which are also the names of the magicians that Vision goes to see in an issue of The Vision and the Scarlet Witch.

Though we all enjoy a good jam, The Beach Boys’ “Help Me, Rhonda” gets interrupted by someone asking, “Who’s doing this to you, Wanda?” And doesn’t that voice sound an awful lot like Randall Park’s Jimmy Woo?

While it may seem weird that Wanda shows her pregnancy in an instant, it’s in line with what goes on in the comics. Wanda uses magic to help her have children, which checks out since her husband is a synthezoid.

Oooh, that mysterious beekeeper! Not only does their presence lead to the reveal that Wanda has some control over the reality they’re in, but it also sets off some alarm bells. Even though the beekeeper’s suit bears the S.W.O.R.D logo on the back, the costume is reminiscent of the yellow costumes worn by A.I.M., a military science organization founded by Baron von Strücker. Could this be a sign that Wanda is being watched by more than one organization? And is this a hint that Hydra is back!? (Obviously, it is.)

WandaVision Episode 1 Easter Eggs

When Wanda accidentally smashes a plate into Vision’s head, he jokes about his wife and her “flying saucers,” and she comments back about his “indestructible head.” Considering that Vision died after having the Mind Stone ripped from his head, it’s a dark joke to kick off the series.

Vision’s work tie has a visual reference to his comic-book alter ego! In Tom King and Gabriel Hernandez Walta’s Vision, whenever the character dresses as a human, he wears a tie clip that emulates the diamond pattern on his chest.

Vision’s boss, Mr. Hart, is likely named after comic creator Steve Englehart, who created 1985’s The Vision and the Scarlet Witch with Richard Howell, a miniseries that heavily influenced WandaVision. It’s been heavily implied that Kathryn Hahn’s Agnes is the MCU’s Agatha Harkness, a witch who helped train Wanda’s magic back in the ’70s and ’80s.

When Wanda magically saves dinner, the bottle of wine she pours from is Maison du Mépris, which translates to house of contempt or scorn. As fans have pointed out since the trailer drop, this seems like a reference to the House of M comics storyline in which Wanda bends reality into a new world ruled by her family.

The Stark commercial break refers to two things: Avengers icon Tony Stark and his part in Wanda’s dark past. As Wanda and her twin brother, Pietro, explain in Avengers: Age of Ultron, their parents were killed by an explosive Stark Industries device, leaving the twins trapped under rubble. The Maximoffs were trapped by a Stark Industries shell for two days, expecting it to detonate before they get rescued. Even though Wanda eventually fights beside Tony in the future, there’s still some trauma from that experience and her brother’s death. If it weren’t for the Starks, Wanda could have been a completely different person.

The episode closes with a mysterious observer watching the “show” and taking notes on a pad with the logo of S.W.O.R.D. on the cover. For those who don’t know, S.W.O.R.D stands for Sentient World Observation and Response Department and is a subdivision of S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s a counterterrorism and intelligence agency that deals with extraterrestrial threats to world security. Expect to see them around more.

Press: A Thorough Breakdown of All the Marvel Easter Eggs on WandaVision was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

#Elizabeth Olsen #Avengers #Scarlet Witch #Avengers Infinity War #Avengers Age of Ultron #Captain America Civil War #Kodachrome #Ingrid Goes West #Godzilla #Sorry For Your loss

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gingrrfrog · 4 years

Text

these nights (2) self insert vers.

pairing: na jaemin x female reader x lee jeno

genre: smut, established relationship, mafia au

word count: 5.3k

warnings: mentioned gun violence, threesome, male receiving oral sex, swearing, dirty talking, polaroid photos taken during sex (I couldn’t find the actual name for this kink >:T), poly relationship (if for some reason that bothers some of you), squirting

summary: on a cold winter day, you snuggle close to the loves of your life--hours before they’re due for a job.

masterlist :]

You winced at the sound of the sniper rifle going off again, watching as Jeno lifted his head from the scope, grinning at the newest version of the Sako TRG-42 rifle. From what you could tell, Jeno seemed to be extremely pleased with the results, judging by the way his eyes creased into half circles as he tossed the loaded gun in his hands.

You nearly tore you hair out. You can’t count the amount of times you’ve told Jeno not to do that.

Jaemin was close by, clapping his hand against Jeno’s shoulder as the two chatted with Renjun, a member from the Chinese branch that was in charge of weapon distribution. It seemed that Renjun was asking for feedback and Jeno was giving it to him animatedly, switching the Sako for a handgun, sleek, white, and light judging by the way Jeno again tossed it back and forth in his hands.

You whined out and dug your fingernails in your scalp, “Lee Jeno! Stop fucking tossing them around like that!” You scream from behind the enforced glass, making sure to glare at Jaemin as well for allowing this behavior.

Jeno jumped and looked up to give you another smile, followed by a pout once he saw your scowl. Jaemin blinked rapidly before taking the gun from Jeno, placing it on the table beside them as they continued to chat with Renjun—who gave an apologetic smile and a wave. As they continued to chat, Jeno turned away from the two and continued to shoot the white gun in hand, emptying the barrel before you heard his exclamations behind the glass. He grinned ear to ear and you began to wonder if Jeno loved guns more than you.

Jaemin was first to be finished with the conversation, giving Renjun a wave before stepping up the slick steps to sit next to you against the cold metal chairs. You give him a scrunch of your nose before he leans into kiss it, pulling you into his lap as you rest your head against his.

“Cold?”

“A little,” You hum, feeling much warmer now that he was close by. “Did Jeno enjoy himself?”

“You tell me,” Jaemin snorted. You both watched as Renjun exited as he gave the two of you another wave as he exits the scene while Jeno excitedly disassembles the guns and places them in his bag. He watches the two of you as he bounces up the steps, smiling at you brightly before he leans in to give you a kiss.

“Why do I feel you’re always happier when you get new guns than when I get a new dress?” You tease, laughing when Jeno’s smile turns.

“That’s not true. It’s just a hobby, just like how you get excited when you buy new paintbrushes.”

“Paintbrushes don’t kill people.”

“Neither do guns—“ Jaemin starts, looking up at Jeno with a grin as the latter takes your chin.

“I kill people.” Jeno coos, causing you to rolls your eyes and snap your chin out of his hold.

“You’re so fucking embarrassing—that’s such a cheesy line.”

“But it’s true!” They both add, jumping at the sound of a throat clearing.

The two boys’ backs straighten when they see Jaehyun appear before them. They greet him almost instantly, surprised that their boss bothered to visit them at the range when they were in charge of arranging meetings. You were even surprised, you can’t remember a time meeting Jaehyun outside of his home, but even then, you weren’t involved as Jaemin and Jeno were.

“I thought I would find you three here.”

“What brings the sudden visit?” Jaemin greets, a bit bolder than most would considering their shared mother gives Jaemin a pass at things many members wouldn’t have.

“Just needed a quick chat—I was in the area already anyway.”

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing…we can’t fix,” Jaehyun beams, flashing his dimples at his half-brother before glancing quickly over to you. “Just some details for clean up is all.”

“Me clean up or Jaemin clean up?” Jeno asked, eyes gleaming in excitement.

“This is up your alley, Jeno. Jaemin is a shit shot.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes and patted your thigh, “let’s wait for Jeno in the car before he gets hard.”

“Very funny. I’ll be there in a little bit,” Jeno reassures you, taking your hand before kissing you sweetly. “Jaemin owes us dinner because he missed the most targets.”

Jaehyun snorted as Jaemin rolled his eyes, ushering you out of the range and towards your car. On the way you made eye contact with Jaehyun’s fiancee, looking ever so glamorous as she read a big book of baby names and patted the growing bump on her belly. You waved and gave her a smile, to which she returned, so breathtakingly beautiful.

You figured as much. You couldn’t imagine Jaehyun settling for anything less with dimples like those. You hoped that if you ever got pregnant one day, you would look half as beautiful as she did. However, what with Jeno and Jaemin, you can imagine feeling more stressed than relieved. You shudder at the thought, causing Jaemin to hold you closer.

“Are you that cold?”

“No, I was just thinking.”

Jaemin opened the passenger door for you and waited for you to get inside before he jogged to the drivers side, closing the door as he sighed at the warm air.

“Thinking about what?”

“Your brother’s fiancee.”

“Yeah what about her?”

“She’s really pretty, isn’t she?” You mused, not even sure if you were speaking aloud or not, “she like, glows. Her pregnant glow isn’t fair.”

“You’d glow too if all you did was be pampered by my brother.”

“Don’t be mean, Jaemin.”

“I’m not! She’s nice and pretty, but my brother is overly protective,” He sighs, lowering the car seat as he crosses his arms and closes his eyes. “He doesn’t let her lift a finger at home, it’s a wonder how he lets her go to work.”

“I wonder that too—isn’t a chef a lot of strain? She’s also pretty big.”

“She really does quality check. Her sous-chef does most of the work these days. But even then, hyung only lets her work three days out of the six.”

You chuckle and lean your head against the window, cold in comparison to the rest of your body.

“What now?”

“What if we have a baby?” You laugh loudly, “how funny would that be? Two idiot fathers and a dumb mom.”

Jaemin laughs lightly too, “Jeno would cry.”

“Jeno doesn’t cry,” You turn your head and poke Jaemin in the ribs, “/you/ on the other hand—“

“Who would you want to get your pregnant first?” Jaemin asked eagerly, his eyes shooting open and lifting his chair.

You blinked and slapped his shoulders, “have you thought about this before?”

“Yes. I want it to be me.”

You scrunch your nose, “you were kind of ugly as a baby. Jeno was a little cuter.”

Jaemin’s mouth drops and he sulks almost instantly, turning on his side away from you. You cackle as you pull on his shoulder, trying desperately to admit that you were joking (even if there was some truth to the statement).

Before Jaemin could fully forgive you, Jeno appeared in front of the car, looking as eager as he always did before he slipped on an ice patch, hearing a thud and a groan coming from outside.

Jaemin snapped his neck to look at you, “you want those braincells in our child? Is that the child you want?”

“You and Jeno share one braincell and it’s the one I gave you, now move.” You grin, opening the door and pushing Jaemin out the door.

Jaemin huffs out dramatically as he exits the car and picks Jeno up onto his feet. Jeno gets into the driver’s side and grabs you for yet another kiss, “Dinner time?”

You snorted before pulling away, “I never see you this happy when I wear a new dress—I swear by it.”

“Because I’m more excited by what’s under it.”

You roll your eyes before Jeno playfully bites at your cheek. You glanced at Jaemin at the backseat who winks at you. As annoying as Jeno and Jaemin were together, you still couldn’t ignore how they made your heart pound time and time again.

The drive home was a quiet one. Jaemin hummed along to the radio in the backseat while he scrolled down his phone, presumably checking emails while Jeno’s fingertips tapped the beat against your knee, every so often giving a reassuring squeeze anytime you sighed, a silent indicator to not worry, you were almost home. The original planned consisted of going out to eat for dinner but the weather had different plans as the white sky turned a bleak grey, leaning more towards a grey brown hue than anything else. A team decision was then made to order take out, opting to stay home instead in order to avoid the snow seeing that Jeno has to leave early in the morning tomorrow. The last thing he wanted to worry about was his car getting stuck.

You sat on Jeno’s lap as Jaemin ordered food from the other room. The snow began to cascade just then, lighter than you originally thought considering the news forecast this morning, but the wind looked menacing as it pushed snowflakes into the other on occasion. You cuddled closer to Jeno when a slight draft squeezed its way into the window, just barely caressing the skin on your arm enough to leave bumps in its wake.

Jeno pressed his lips against your hair as he rubbed your arm slightly, using the same hand to tuck stray strands of hair away from your face. You sigh and lean against his palm, looking up and watching as his eyes scanned from your forehead to your chin, the left corner of his lip lifting ever so slightly.

“Cold?”

You smile and shake you head in response, “not when you’re here.”

Jeno chuckles and pulls you in for a kiss, deeper than other ones you’ve shared today as his warm hands frame your face, pulling you closer as your breath fans his face in unsteady waves. Your heart presses against your ribcage, threatening to burst with adoration as Jeno’s hands move from your face to your waist, fingers just gently brushing against the exposed skin that laid there—imitating the brisk December air as his fingertips, too, left goosebumps with every stroke.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you more,” you reply sweetly, pulling away just slightly to glance in his eyes to later look at his swollen bottom lip.

You had met Jeno when he was only 18—a gangly street kid who knew his way around guns and who was always riding his illegal temp car around the block. He convinced you to go on a date with him after he joined you for a walk when you were feeling the weight of university crushing onto you. You met Jaemin little afterwards, being introduced to you as Jeno’s best friend and right hand man. The two were inseparable and remain to be as the two ultimately fell in love with you, and you with them. Even now, four years later and at 23 years old, you couldn’t imagine a life without them, and you refused to as the two of them gave you everything you could ever want and more, with endless amounts of love and trust, you were one of the few that was blessed with two soulmates.

You were pulled out of your reverie as Jeno connected your lips together again, this time pressing you against the couch and giggling as his teeth made small marks around your neck. Beaming up at the other, you pulled Jeno closer into another intimate kiss as you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips as you feel his thumbs fidgeting with the band of your jeans.

“I got pizza and chicken, both should be here in a little considering the snow—what the fuck?”

You chuckle as you watch Jeno roll his eyes and pull away, sitting up on the couch on as he pulls you up with him. Jaemin blinked and sat on the chair on the opposite side of the couch, crossing his arms and very visibly pouting as he turned on the tv.

“No, don’t let me interrupt you. Continue what you were doing. I’ll be here catching up on the newest episode of I Live Alone, maybe I can ask them to host me next.”

“You’re such a fucking baby, come here,” You huff, leaning over and pulling Jaemin to the couch and connecting you lips with his next. Jeno liked to lead whenever the two of you kissed, but when it came to Jaemin, he liked to be guided—not only in kissing but in the moments afterwards as well. He wanted to know where to touch, how long and how hard.

“Jeno was just keeping me warm that’s all, we were just waiting for you,” you whisper, pressing your lips against the space between his chin and ear. “We always wait for you, Jaem.”

“In fact,” Jeno starts, “I’ll give you the honors of starting.”

Jeno pulls you against his chest, his hands taking yours as he holds them tightly behind your back. Your eyes widen as you look behind at Jeno, your eyes furrowing together as he gives you a playful peck at the nose. Jaemin grins then as he sits on his knees to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down your knees as you are left in your underwear, pressing your knees together in an attempt to save whatever decency you had left. But your plans were fruitless as Jeno hooked his legs around yours, leaving you no choice but to expose yourself to the other man in front of you.

“Fuck, Jeno, I knew your obsessive gym habit would pay off,” Jaemin grinned, watching as you huffed and tried to move your arms.

“Maybe next time you’ll go with me.”

“I’ll definitely think about it.”

You rolls your eyes and rested your head against Jeno’s strong chest. You were beginning to think they planned this.

Jaemin carefully pushed your underwear to the side with a single finger, watching your pussy clench around the cold air.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, “I’ll never get tired of this.”

“Take a fucking picture of it, why don’t you?” You snip, aggravated that Jaemin takes his time today of all days.

“That’s a great idea,” Jeno grins. “Jaem, go get the camera.”

Jaemin shared his smile as he ran to the bedroom, quickly grabbing the pink instant camera along with other items as you writhed in Jeno’s arms. The pink instant camera was responsible for many lewd photos, polaroid pictures of you with Jeno’s cock in your mouth and Jaemin’s cock in your pussy, photos of you fucked out at full of cum, creampies, and any other disgusting photo you allowed them to take. You got a kick out of it too, but you’d never let them know. To your knowledge, Jeno still had a picture of you tied up with cum dripping out of you in his wallet, while Jaemin had one where your shirt was pushed up to your neck, tits in show as you drunkly had written *PROPERTY OF NA JAEMIN* on them.

One day you were going to fucking kill them both.

“Make sure you get her wet enough, Jaeminie,” Jeno mumbled, more for you as he kissed your earlobe. “I want the flash to catch how wet her pussy is for us.”

You whine out as Jaemin pressed his finger inside without warning, taking out and using your wet to spread it across your clit. You groan as Jaemin takes your clit in between his thumb and index finger, squeezing just hard enough to make your knees shake. You hear the camera go off and you watched as Jaemin sighs happily, tossing the photo to the side as he relocates his fingers to your mouth, pressing them against your tongue,

“Suck for the camera, baby,” Jaemin all but cooed as you followed your order, hallowing your cheeks around the slim finger as the flash went off again and another white piece of film was discarded on the table.

“Jaemin,” you cry. Jaemin’s eyes flashed with faux concern as he removed his finger from your mouth and cupped your face.

“Yes, baby? What’s wrong, angel?”

“More.”

“More? More what, Angel? Photos?”

You shook your head as you did your best to press against Jeno’s erection, the same one that was pressed against your back.

“I want more of you—of you and Jeno.”

Jaemin hummed and tucked your hair behind your ear, much like Jeno earlier as he looked at said man. “What do you think, Jen?”

Jeno smiled softly, “whatever angel wants,”

“Angel gets.” Jaemin sighed, “Jeno has you so spoiled, baby.”

You couldn’t help but to smile helplessly as Jeno released your arms. You notice the red marks and couldn’t help but to worry for the bruises tomorrow—but you were immediately distracted by the fact that Jeno was already removing your sweater and bra while Jaemin finally pulled your underwear off.

“Who do you want where, baby?” Jeno breathes.

“I want Jaem in my mouth,” you breathe as pressed his lips against yours. “I want you in my pussy.”

“Fuck, baby—“

“No foreplay.” You warned, glaring at them both. “I want you to fuck me.”

Jaemin groaned as he pulled your head towards him, lips smacking against each other as you messed with his pants, finally releasing him from the restraints of his underwear as Jaemin pulled away with a breathtaking smile.

“Go on then,” Jaemin’s fingers threaded in your hair as your head leaned towards his twitching length. Just then, Jeno had shoved himself inside of you, a bit rougher than usual as your head bumped into Jaemin’s stomach without warning.

“Fuck, Jen, she hasn’t even started yet.” Jaemin glared.

Jeno followed Jaemin’s glare with smile as he thrusted in you time and time again. Thank God or whoever was listening that Jeno took order so obediently.

You took Jaemin’s cock in your mouth shortly after, moving your head up and down until you halted, taking Jaemin’s hands as a sign to take the pace into to his own. You watched as he groaned and tossed his head back to expose his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing every time you swallowed or gagged on his dick. Jeno changed his angle just slightly and he was hitting the spot you loved in seconds, crying and grunting against Jaemin’s cock as tears spilled over your cheeks, the vibrations from your moans only making Jaemin more sensitive as he threatened to cum down your throat.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck me,” Jaemin moaned, your name falling from his lips like a mantra, “so fucking hot-- so fucking tight, gonna cum baby, gonna cum down your slutty throat.”

You looked up at Jaemin, giving him silent permission as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips stuttering as you sucked him dry, not letting a drop of cum go to waste as he cock spewed cum. Jaemin all but whined your name as you sucked at the tip of his sensitive head, breathing heavily as he pried your head off his cock. Your head rested on Jaemin thigh as Jeno continued to fuck your relentlessly, sloppy noises coming from your pussy as you squeeze Jeno tighter and tighter.

Now that Jaemin was out of your mouth, your moans came louder and louder as you neared your orgasm. Jaemin brushed your sweaty hair to the side as he took your phone out, pressing record as he focused on your face.

“How’s Jeno’s cock baby? Tell the camera.”

You gave a glare at Jaemin through the camera, knowing that he knew your voice was too hoarse to respond. He grinned from the other side and opted to focus on your hole instead, lewd squelching sounds coming from the other end as Jeno fucked you as if his life depended on it.

“Angel, your pretty little pussy is so close, isn’t it?” Jaemin cooed, zooming into your face and you gripped his free hand and chanted Jeno’s name. Jaemin grabbed your clit in between his fingers like he did early, pulling at it as your eyes glazed over, huffing nonsensical words as you felt pressure building in your abdomen.

“So fucking pretty.” Jaemin sighed, pulling at a nipple before slapping it, “so fucking angelic. That’s why you’re our angel, right baby?”

You nodded and moaned for Jeno again, panic rising in your throat as you felt a familiar gush tease at your clit.

“Jeno, pull out, pull out,” You rasped. You barely made it on time before you spray against Jeno’s cock, listening to his curses as he eagerly jacks his cock against your squirting pussy.

“Fuck, gonna squirt all over my cock? My cock fucks you so good, doesn’t it baby? Doesn’t it make you feel good?”

You cried out as another gush pushes out and onto Jeno’s shirt, staining that and his pants underneath with nothing but your squirt. You lay a writhing, twitching mess on the couch, full of cum and other fluids as the poor couch only soaks up what you couldn’t. Jaemin sighs another curse as he leans in to kiss you shortly before Jeno kisses your belly button.

“I love you, baby.” Jaemin beams.

“I love you, Jaem.”

“I love you, angel.”

You thread your fingers through Jeno’s hair, “I love you, Jen.”

“But who do you love more?” Jaemin asked, jokingly as he knew more than Jeno that you have an equal amount of love.

Continuing with the joke, you pull Jaemin’s arm weakly, “whoever cleans me and this mess up first.”

The answer is interrupted by a knock at the door. Jaemin gets up quickly and shoves himself back in his pants before walking towards the door, “She can love you more today, Jeno.”

Jeno sighs and looks at you with a smile, “looks like today is my lucky day.”

You smile, “my knight in shining armor.”

“Yeah well,” Jeno gets up swiftly and lifts your up effortlessly, walking towards your shared bathroom as he prepares you a bath. “I’d walk through flames for you. Seven deserts and three tundras just to hear you laugh.”

You smiled as Jeno lowered you in the warm bath. “You’re such a romantic.”

“I know,” Jeno grins, taking the sponge and running it between your legs, “I’m sure Jaemin would do the same. It would only take him longer because he’s lazy. Not to mention, he’s not as poetic as I am.”

Jaemin entered the bathroom then, a tv stand in hands as he sets it on top of the bathtub corners. He placed a kiss on top your forehead before he sat on the ledge, using chopsticks to help you eat.

“What was Jaehyun talking to you about earlier, Jeno?” You ask, chewing as you tilted your head to the side.

“Just a job for me tomorrow morning,” Jeno looked up at Jaemin. “Hyung said he would text you, did he?”

Jaemin nodded and took pizza in his own mouth, “He did. You’ve got to be there by five.”

Jeno sighed and scratched the back of his head, “it’s a clean up job, if that tells you anything. But five? That means I have to go to bed now.”

“You can go ahead, baby,” you caresses the side of his head, “I probably won’t be awake too long after dinner.”

“I’ll eat with you all for a minute, but I should shower after you take a bath,” Jeno sighed, falling on his back and rubbing his face. “It’s so /cold/ out, I don’t want to go.”

Jaemin kicked Jeno’s side, “you’re going to be packed up tomorrow anyway. You’re probably going to be warmer than usual.”

Jeno grabbed Jaemin’s foot, shoving it to the side before sitting up again, “I guess. I’m going to start packing, I guess. Are you coming?”

Jaemin shook his head, “not with you, no. But I’ll be with Jaehyun hyung watching everything over.”

Jeno grimaced, “lucky you. You get to stay in the warmth of his massive house.”

Jaemin stuck out his tongue before continue to feed you. You watched as Jeno stood up on his feet to kiss you on the crown of your head, “I’m going to take a shower in the other bath. I’ll see you in bed.”

You couldn’t help but be the tiniest bit of upset at the lack of time together—but it was always like this and you couldn’t be mad at him about it now. Instead, you tilt your head back and jut your bottom lip out where Jeno eagerly takes the invitation to kiss you softly.

“I love you, wake me up before you leave tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course baby, get some rest.” Jeno pressed another kiss to your lips before turning to on his heel, only to turn around when he heard Jaemin clear his throat.

“Where’s mine?”

You giggled as you watch Jeno roll his eyes and grab Jaemin’s face with his hands, “you’re so fucking annoying.”

After a chaste kiss, Jeno leaves the room and you’re left alone with Jaemin who moves the food to the side and continues to wash you up before he continues to drain the tub. Wrapped in a warm towel, you move to the bed, shuffling under the bed sheets and watching as Jaemin began to search for pajamas.

“Don’t get in the bed naked you’re going to get cold and then sick,” Jaemin scolded, pulling your arm in attempts to get you out of the bed sheets—but you’ve already decided that you’re not moving an inch.

“I don’t want to, I just want to go to sleep,” You whine, pulling Jaemin closer until he’s sitting next to you. “Let’s just go to sleep, hm?”

“Not yet. I’m going to go get washed up—you better have some clothes on by then.”

“And if I don’t?”

Jaemin squinted and took your face in his hands, squeezing enough to make you laugh, “Jeno says I’m annoying but I think you take the cake.”

“Jeno thinks I’m an angel.”

“Jeno has you spoiled, there’s a difference.”

You stick you tongue out to which Jaemin grins and flicks your nose, “I’ll be back, baby. Get dressed please.”

You scrunch your nose as you agree halfheartedly, scrolling through your phone as you hear the shower turn on in your bathroom and the other turn off. You hear foot steps padding towards you and greet Jeno with a smile, to which he returns with a towel hastily drying his hair.

“Do you not have any clothes on?”

“No. I like it this way, it’s comfortable.”

Jeno shrugs and pulls off his towel to join you, smiling at your warmth before he kisses your shoulder, “I like being comfortable too, actually.”

You laugh and turn to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, pressing several kisses on his neck as he holds you tighter, “Jaemin is going to get mad. He’s going to say that you’re spoiling me.”

“But that’s what I do, I love to spoil you,” Jeno hums, running his hands over your arm. “On the other hand, it is cold, angel. Wear a sweater at least.”

You sigh, “but then I’m going to be sweaty when I wake up and then I’ll really get sick.”

Jeno’s eyes creased into little crescent moons before he presses kisses all over your face, “please, just spare me from Jaemin’s future nagging.”

You snorted and pull away from Jeno’s embrace and head for the closet, pulling out a sweater shirt that you’d never seen before and yanking it over your head before returning to bed and into Jeno’s arms. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and smiled, “good girl.”

Jaemin entered the room shortly after, throwing the towel to the side already dressed in his pajamas, and checking to see if you had any clothes on, smiling when he saw that you had put a sweatshirt on.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You scrunched your nose as Jaemin kisses your forehead, only to look under the sheets and sigh. “I meant pants too.”

“Please let me go to sleep.”

“Fine, fine,” Jaemin sighed, laying down and pulling the blanket over his chin.

The lights were turned off seconds afterwards, Jaemin opted to scroll through his phone a bit longer while Jeno’s eyes seemed to close just then. You curled next to Jeno this time around, seeing that Jaemin started a game and wasn’t particularly good at cuddling when he was tense. Jeno wrapped his arms around you and just like that, the two of you fell asleep.

At around four thirty, you woke up to the other side of the bed shuffling. You were curled to Jaemin’s side now, said man refusing to wake up as you watched Jeno’s naked silhouette walk in the dark.

You watched as he got dressed, pulling on underwear and pants first, and watching him dig deep into the closet where a hidden compartment hid. You watched him type each number, 76842, the passcode to Jeno’s hidden arsenal that he gave you should you ever be in the need to protect yourself.

After pulling on a t-shirt, he pulled on his vest, making sure it was sound and heavy against his chest before he continued to layer after grabbing the duffel bag you only assumed he packed the night before.

You sit up quietly, careful enough to make sure you didn’t wake up Jaemin as Jeno turned his head. Even in the darkness you swore you could see his smile. He walked over towards you to kiss you good morning as your blinked your eyes groggily.

“I’m going to on my way out, okay? I’ll be back in two days.”

“Be safe please,” you whisper, squeezing his arm. “I love you so much. Come back to me in one piece.”

“I’ll be okay, angel. I always am.” Jeno placed his duffel bag on the floor before pulling you in for a kiss, “I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll call you before I come home. Try not to kill Jaem while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” you smiled, listening to Jeno’s soft laughter.

“I love you. I’ll be back Tuesday.”

Your stomach churned in unease, “okay.”

Jeno was quiet for a moment before he sat down completely, “are…you going to cry?”

You nod as you wrap you arms around his neck, surprising Jeno as this had been the first time you showed fear before he left. “Just be careful, okay? Renjun never comes for a simple visit and Jaehyun coming to find you never means anything good so please, please, be careful, okay?”

Jeno pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours, holding your head as he brushes tears away, “you have nothing to worry about. I promise. I know, things seems suspiciously tense, but Jaehyun isn’t going to let anything happen to me and Jaemin will be there too, and you know he won’t let anything happen either.”

You continue to wipe tears from your face as Jeno pulled you closer, “I need you to trust me. If I don’t come home to you, you can bring me back to life and kill me yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? After everything I said you only give me an okay to murdering me yourself?”

You gave a small laugh, but it was enough to make Jeno feel comfortable with leaving.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

“You just said tomorrow.”

“Well, I lied, so,” Jeno grinned, kissing you once more. “I really have to go, angel. I don’t want to be late.”

“Okay. I love you. Be safe.”

“I love you more, angel.”

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