#drives like Cher from Clueless | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wongyuseokie · 7 months

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Ugh! As If! | w.j.h

Summary: Your boyfriend decided to take you into a drive-in movie for date night. Only problem? He looks scrumptious, and now your task is to ensure he knows just how good he looks without the others knowing.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 1046 words

Pairings: Wen Junhui x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Established Relationship, PWP. Fluff and smut Content Warnings: Mentions of food, car sex

Smut Warnings: Car sex. Unprotected sex (don’t do this irl), fingering, creampie. I think that’s it. Orgasms, and pretty tame stuff.

Author's Note 1: This is written for the Now That's a 90s collab hosted by the lovely @beomcoups. Do check out the rest of the masterlist as the work is amazing!! Author's Note 2: Thank you so much to my lovely betas @gyupremacy and @here4kpopfics! I adore ya both dearly ❤️

As the sun begins its descent, you hear a familiar sound outside your window—a soft purring that announces Jun's arrival in his vintage convertible. As you finish your last-minute touches, your heart flutters with anticipation, adjusting your outfit in the mirror. You've opted for that 90s flair—high-waisted jeans paired with a cropped sweater and scrunchie adorning your hair.

Stepping outside, you see Jun leaning against the car, his grin widening as he sees you. He's gone all out, sporting a retro bomber jacket and faded jeans, completing the look with a pair of round sunglasses.

"Hey there, Y/N," he says, opening the car door for you with a flourish.

"Jun, you look so cute!" you exclaim, giggling as you slide into the passenger seat.

"Only the best for our Clueless date night," he replies, a playful glint in his eye.

The drive to the drive-in is accompanied by nostalgic tunes blasting from the car stereo, both of you singing along to the iconic hits of the era. Jun navigates the streets quickly, occasionally stealing glances at you, his warm and affectionate smile.

As you pull into the drive-in, rows of cars are already parked, and the atmosphere buzzes with excitement. Jun finds a prime spot near the back, ensuring an unobstructed view of the giant screen.

With the engine off and the night sky above, the air feels electric with anticipation. Jun reaches behind the seat, producing a basket filled with an assortment of snacks—popcorn, candies, and soda.

"Thought we might need some fuel for this cinematic adventure," he chuckles, handing you the popcorn.

You settle in, the comfort of the car cocooning you both. The screen flickers to life, and the vibrant world of Clueless unfolds before you. You laugh together at Cher's antics, exchanging knowing glances during the classic lines.

You sit at the far end of the parking lot. It's dark, and the movie starts soon, but that's the least of your concerns. Jun's car is like another world where the two of you can be alone and do whatever you want.

He spreads a blanket on the backseat of his car and scoots over so that you can join him. As you settle in, the car shifts beneath you, and you gently run a hand across his clean-shaven cheek in anticipation of the night ahead.

You lean in close to Jun, lightly grazing your nose against his. His eyes flicker as he takes in your scent, and you can feel the electricity between you. Your lips hover above his; you can feel the warmth radiating between you, and your heart thuds in anticipation. You gently kiss his lips and pull away, letting your eyes lock with his in an intimate gaze.

The drive-in movie screen provides the perfect backdrop for the seduction between you and Jun. The soft light of the full moon illuminates your skin as if the stars were made just to caress your body.

Your fingers trace his face, letting him know how much you need him in the silence between you. Every nerve in your body is alive, and the air around you is electric. You can feel Jun's heart beating against your chest as you move closer, your lips only centimetres away from his.

On instinct, your tongues dart into each other's mouths, exploring each other's taste. Jun's hands roam over your body, sending shivers up your spine as your fingers nimbly pull his shirt over his head.

You and Jun spend the rest of the evening locked in each other's embrace, the movie soundtrack providing the perfect backdrop to your symphony.

Jun leans in once again and kisses you deeply, his tongue finding its way into your mouth almost instinctively. You gasp in pleasure as you allow yourself to be swept away into a state of bliss.

Your hands explore each other's bodies, exploring, learning, and refining what you know of each other. You unbutton Jun's shirt as he slides his hand up your thigh, your legs parting instinctively.

Jun slides his fingers beneath the waistband of your jeans, and your breathing quickens as you feel his touch trace circles around your navel. You reach down and grasp his arousal through his jeans, stroking along the length and eliciting a deep groan. His head falls back against the seat with pleasure, and you continue to caress him as the heat builds between you.

You bite your lip as Jun pulls gently at your jeans, teasing you with what's to come. When the denim slides off your hips, he reaches down with a hand, tracing patterns up your torso as his other hand plays with your nipples. Your body pulses under his touch, and your stomach contracts with anticipation.

Jun slides himself over you, pushing his hard cock between your parted legs as his hand slides down your back and cups your ass. You wrap your legs around him, knowing that you can no longer contain your desire for him.

He thrusts hard, filling you and causing your breath to come out in shuddering gasps. He grinds against your clitoris, giving you pleasure with each movement of his hips. You gasp as pleasure courses through your body, and you dig your nails into his back, urging him on.

He slides his hand down to wrap around your back, pushing you closer as you feel the pressure build inside of you. You grip onto him desperately as his lips find yours, tasting every inch of your mouth in a passionate kiss.

Your body trembles as you reach your peak, your breathing coming out in desperate gasps as you cry out in pleasure. Jun follows soon after, your movements gradually slowing as the intensity subsides.

You lay in the backseat of the car, panting softly as you let the waves of pleasure wash over you. Jun wraps his arms around you as he catches his breath, his forehead resting against yours as you two lay in a blissful embrace.

The dim lights from the lot reflect off the glass, providing a muted glow that seems to envelop the two of you. As the movie starts, you can't help but smile in satisfaction at the night you shared with Jun.

#seventeen smut #jun smut #junhui smut #svthub #kvanity #indigo writes: jun

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justyoursicanon · 1 year

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And here I thought we were different (Only to find out I was wrong)

Summary: A list of times where Spy caught a few details about Scout that makes him realize that maybe he and Scout aren't so different after all.

(A/N: Hi yea so this is based off this headcanon list by @spaghettifromthevoid and hey I thought why not make a oneshot..A very, very long one..) (And @that1randomnamename also wanted to be tagged in this too :])

Translations (Using google translate): cher ingénieur - dear engineer mon lapin - my rabbit

If Spy were to tell the truth for once, it would most likely be about the times he was genuinely shocked by Scout.

There was never a time that Spy would ever have a different reaction to the Scout, it would always be between anger, disgust, or some other default expression he would show to the runner. But after that one celebration on a Friday evening, Spy unfortunately had to rephrase that.

To start off the time, it was mostly cheerful. The team had taken another victory over the BLUs after a rather difficult battle of capture the flag. In short, the BLUs decided to actually make and use a decent plan for once. But as usual, they failed.

With that victory still fresh after everyone returned to the base, they did the usual and celebrated. Heading into the truck that afternoon and driving to the Tuefort to celebrate at the local bar. Or just the one they haven't gotten kicked out yet.

A few drinks into their stay, some of them got a bit tipsy. Engineer was chuckling from time to time between sips of his 6th beer, Soldier was shouting even louder then usual, leading in for Demo to calm him down a bit since he was used to both his and his own drunken state, and surprisingly, Medic who was also giggling a bit as he drank beside Heavy.

But as for someone like Spy, he only sat in a corner of the bar, watching everything from an unusual spot. Drinking away on his own beverage, the bars most expensive alcohol they had at the time. In Spy's opinion, it was shit.

Then, the night got a bit interesting.

Scout was chatting away with Sniper and Pyro, the arsonist nodding their head from side to side leaving everyone clueless if they were even listening to the Scout. And the Sniper, who had only gotten to his 3rd beer of the night due to taking small sips as he nodded along with whatever Scout was talking about.

Now, at times like these, Spy wouldn't give a single shit about whatever his son was talking about. He always thought the boy's interests were... Uninteresting, useless, annoying. But as he dropped his attention to him for a few minutes, his interest had shifted.

He knew Scout was always one for mocking, for fun and games, to be annoying and get whatever attention he could get from time to time. And he would succeed. He always would, especially with those horrible fake accents and statement of mockery the Scout had thrown onto him on the usual.

But this time, the same mocking mannerism he did was different. And this, was what led Spy to think about his opinions on his son. Just a little.

"Man you don't even freakin' know how annoying it was on that one contract I did with Spy! It was somewhere in uh, think it was New Jersey or somethin' and Spy would not get off my ass when I decided to dress up in some normal clothes for once! Like geez man let me wear my polo after working in a literal desert for 4 years!" He heard the Scout rant, a volume that only pitched up slightly as most of the chaos from the other mercenaries died down.

He saw the Sniper nod along as the runner continued. "My polo wasn't even bad! I mean sure it was blue, but we were in New Jersey for crying out loud! He was the one wearing a freakin' red suit and a dollar store ski mask!"

Spy rolled his eyes as the Sniper chuckled and agreed with the Scout.

Then, the next scene had caught him off guard.

He watched as Scout shifted his position on the stool to sit straighter and crossed his legs, only both his elbows leaning on the top of the long table, and he grabbed the straw that was in his BONK! can, and placed the tip of one of the ends of the straw in his mouth. As if it was a lit cigarette.

And for a slight moment, Scout was in a perfect position that Spy would have definitely been in. And Spy had to take a large sip of his drink to calm himself down.

Oh but it didn't stop there.

"Scout you imbecile, Go change out of that ridiculous outfit! Put your hat back on. At least it's something that wouldn't blow our entire cover." The Scout imitated Spy's accent. It was close in a horrifying way. Well, it wasn't perfect of course, but it was close.

Too close.

But it became closer when he watched as Scout continued his actions as he spoke.

The way Scout leaned back a bit as if he was straightening his back,

the straw moving slightly in his mouth as if he was adjusting the taste of tobacco,

and the way his grip-taped hands and crumpled a bit of his shirt in his hands and tug down a bit like he was adjusting a suit.

It was all something Spy had done. And Scout imitated it perfectly.

His whole body froze, the grip on his almost finished glass tightening ever so slightly. He didn't even acknowledge Scout dropping the act to laugh, even with Sniper laughing along with him rather loudly.

But, as soon as they got back to base. He pushed it aside.

It was just a coincidence.

They've stayed together longer in contracts and battles then usual.

But it didn't mean anything, it wasn't a big deal.

Scout is Scout, not the small Jeremy he had in his arms when he was wrapped in a cloth.

Not the Jeremy that wrapped his tiny fingers on Spy's gloved finger.

Jeremy is his son. Scout isn't.

But of course, something decided to prove him wrong.

Spy sighed again as he threw another worn out cigarette in his filled tray. One hand taking out his small kit from his suit, while the other continued to hold his small deck of cards.

Skillful fingers casually open the kit in one hand and he plucked out another cigarette, his index and middle finger holding the cigarette while the rest of his fingers put his kit back in his suit.

He inches the tip of the cig towards Sniper, who was observing his own deck carefully.

"Light," He asks, and Sniper grabs the lighter beside the other deck of cards on a spot on the table and quickly lights his cigarette. Spy nodding a thanks.

Both men were intensely focused on their game, Spy could obviously feel those short glares that the marksman would shoot him with. Even though Spy's eyes were glued onto his own deck.

As Spy thought, mentally picking and thinking what his next move is, he could hear every sound around them.

He could hear the tv in the other room playing, the sound of Soldier and Demo's distant laughter coming along. The sound of machinery and sparks flying in another room towards Engineer's workshop. And even the hysterical faint laughter of the Medic in his infirmary.

He moves the cigarette in his mouth, and adjusts the placement of cards in his hands-

"Hey guys have you seen Pyro?-"

"Bloody hell!"

All 3 of them suddenly jump from the sudden noises. Sniper letting out a shout as he backed up in his chair slightly with a loud screech of the chair leg scratching harshly on the floor.

Spy standing up in a flash with his cards falling on the table and his butterfly knife open and faced at the other voice.

And Scout jumping back with a yelp as he takes a few steps back. "Geez man put the knife down! Didn't mean to scare you guys this time, I swear!" Scout defended, his hands still up in the air as he turns his face away from the blade.

Spy lets out a few heavy breaths, while Sniper slightly chuckles.

"Christ, sorry mate. Didn't hear ya one bit, ya sure ya didn't sneak up on us?" "Uh no? I was just walking up to ya as always. Kinda thought you saw me walking up behind Spy."

Sniper bumped his hat a bit to brush his hair back as he let out another raspy laugh.

"Didn't see or hear ya at all Roo. Thought you would have been using your mouth right before sneaking up on us." "I wasn't sneaking up on any of ya this time. Promise."

Spy glared at Scout for another moment, before pocketing his knife and dragging his chair back to sit on it. Retrieving his cards again.

"Pyro is in the workshop with the Engineer." He says as he rearranges his cards, and leans into his chair again.

All 3 of them stay silent for a moment, before Scout lets out a small laugh.

"Alright, thanks!" He says while waving at both of them, and turns to run to the workshop.

Sniper smiles slightly and waves back, before going back to his cards.

"Shuffle again, I saw your whole deck."

"Bugger."

"Evenin' Spy, mind doin' a favor for me?" Favors were normal for Spy, whether it be both for business or personal reasons. Most favors he had, and accepted, were always for business.

But this particular favor from the Engineer was... Odd..

"Depends on the favor, cher ingénieur." Spy replied, letting out a puff of smoke into the night air as the cigarette remained in his two fingers. His body continued to lean on the railings of the base porch.

"Well.. Do you mind finding where the kid is? Haven't seen him all day after uh, a bit of a difficult session with Doc."

Spy's body immediately tensed.

He whipped around, the cigarette almost falling, even if it was squeezing in the agent's grip.

"What happened?" He asked, his tone turned firm.

Concerned.

"I don't know the whole story, but what I heard from Medic was that Scout was being a bit hard and harsh on his words when he was explaining some things. Think it was something about his health and how the boy's not going easy on himself recently. But, that's all he's told me after Scout ran out of the infirmary." Spy stared at the Engineer, before sighing. The last of his cigarette's smoke flowing out of his mouth as the sigh continues.

Scout isn't taking care of himself?

"Do you have a clue on where the boy could have gone?" "Can't say I do, nor can the others. None of them have seen the boy all day."

Spy nods. He can feel the cold air of the darkening night slipping through his mask, and flowing through the rest of his garments. If he was alone, he would have shivered slightly.

"I'll look for wherever he could be." He watches as the Engineer lets out a soft sigh and smiles, gently patting the French man's shoulder. "Thanks partner, hope to see you with him once I get dinner done."

Dinner was probably going to be done in an hour and a half, maybe two full hours depending on what Engineer would be cooking, and if Soldier or Pyro end up distracting him in the process.

He'll be able to find Scout in time. How hard could finding the boy be?

It took 2 hours.

2 hours.

It was a miracle that Engineer was only finishing up his cooking, added up with Pyro and Demo fixing the dining table while waiting.

Spy didn't know how, he wanted to know how. But at the same time he couldn't give a single shit because he couldn't find where Scout was.

It was driving him insane.

Insanely worried.

He looked everywhere and anywhere. Every spot he knew Scout would stay both on and off battles, any place Scout would have gone to stay at any time.

But he just couldn't find him.

Spy was on his 10th cigarette as he harshly walked on the dried ground of New Mexico, almost yanking away the cigarette as he puffed out the smoke rather then a soothing sigh.

Where could have Scout gone to?

He was walking up to one of the sheds, a bit of a distance away from the base.

It was old, on the verge of falling to pieces, but Engineer insisted they use the old thing as storage.

He made a face of disgust as he reached the door, inching his gloved hand towards the rusted handle. Before dropping it, and ended up opening the door with a harsh kick.

And once again, with no thought of the possibility, his eyes widened as he found Scout inside.

He was sitting down in the corner of the shed, his legs and knees pressing itself to his chest as he leaned his body to a dusty cloth that was covering what Spy thought was most likely an old sentry.

His baseball cap was messily placed on his head, the front end covering his eyes as a few small strands of his hair puffed out in the back of his head.

He was asleep, Spy figured since Scout would have jumped if someone just suddenly kicked the door open to the point of literally shaking the shed.

He walked over to him, quietly kneeling down to Scout's level, and gently shook his shoulder.

The Scout muttered as he rocked his head to the other side, his hat falling to his side as he let his head hang on his shoulder.

Spy let out a quiet breath.

"Scout. Scout wake up."

Scout muttered again as the words filled the room. His body shifting slightly.

Spy shook his shoulder again, and Scout's eyes started to blink open.

"Wha.. What?-" He asked, letting out a yawn as he scratched his head, his hat falling to the ground in the process.

"We'll be late for dinner, get up. I'll be outside." Spy replied as his gaze softened when he saw him awake. He stood up, dusting off his suit, and walked outside. Standing in the night's air as he waited.

Scout came out shortly after, his dogtags clinking together as he walked past Spy, leaving the French man to roll his eyes and catch up with him on the same pace.

"What happened with the doctor?" He asked. He noticed the way Scout's pace faltered slightly, but didn't stop.

"It ain't any of your business." Scout replied, shoving his loosely taped hands in his pockets as he breathed in the cold air.

Spy opened his mouth again to reply, but then thought about it. Then closes it.

1:05 AM

It wasn't unusual for Spy to stay up at such late hours. He had various of reasons to why he would always find himself sitting in his smoking room, the flames in the fire place long gone hours ago, the lights closed and dim, and the rain continuing to pour outside his very windows.

He would also find himself walking down the halls of the base, and sitting in one of the chairs in the kitchen.

It became a normal habit for the man, and he wasn't the only one.

He knows Medic would often stay up late too, being a busy doctor and experimenting on anything and everything.

As well as the Engineer. Such a hardworking man trying to upgrade his precious sentries.

As his shoes barely made hearable clacks on the wooden floor, watching himself slowly walk to the kitchen like always, he hadn't expect to see anyone else in the kitchen at this late time.

But why did it have to be Scout? Why was the first thing he saw when he stepped out of the hallway and into the kitchen was that plain red shirt with its sleeves ruffled and messily pull down? Why out of all of the people in the base did it have to be Scout? He didn't know either. "Oh, uh hey pal. Can't sleep either?" Scout asked as his head finally looked up from hanging, and staring at the table that he leaned forward on.

Spy immediately noticed those tired, empty blue eyes. Why were they so dull tonight?

Spy didn't reply, only nodding once, and walking past Scout and towards the cabinets where their cups laid in.

As he poured the cold water from the pitcher, he could hear the faint deep breaths of the runner. He finished pouring and places the pitcher back in the fridge, taking the cup and leaning on the sink counter as he sips it.

The two laid in silence.

"Mon lapin, why are you awake?" Spy finally asks. Drinking the last drops of his water, before placing the cup in the sink. Once he turns back to Scout, he shrugs as his posture slouches a bit further. "Earlier in the battle, the BLU Demo was being an asshole and kept bombing the spots I always go to when I'm tryna heal." He pauses, and Spy notices his thumbs trying to fidget with each other, but soon stop. Spy suspected he was trying to fidget with his grip tape. But he wasn't wearing any at the moment.

"Every time I turned a corner to hide, just one freakin' second of standing I could hear ticking. And before I could even look, I get blown up." He finished, he leans back into his chair, head raised up to the ceiling and sighs. Both his hands coming up to rub down his face.

"I keep hearing the damn ticking in my head, it's killing me! I'm so beat down already man.." He muttered, and slouched back onto the table.

Spy hummed as he stared at his son, a few minutes passing by with silence.

Before he let a sigh, and slightly rolled his eyes.

"Follow me." He said, turning and walking down the hall again. His quiet clanks fading as he walks deeper into the hall.

Scout's head jumps immediately, and stumbles out of his seat to follow him, hissing slightly at the slight pain in his body.

Spy could hear those rough and heavy stomps on the wooden planks not too far behind him, he sighs and shakes his head, hoping he wouldn't regret this decision.

He reaches his smoking room and opens the door, leaving a crack open for Scout to follow.

He then continues to remove his suit coat and hangs it in a nearby coat rack, leaving him in his white polo while loosening his tie slightly. He could hear the door creak open as Scout enters, and he fetches his lighter in his coat pocket and walks to the fire place.

"Sit on one of the chairs, I'll be with you in a moment." He says aloud, and he could her Scout's unsure 'uhh' somewhere behind him. He grabs a few dusty-ish logs from a small corner in the room, and throws them in, flicking the lighter and setting the wood in flames.

He dusts himself off as he stood up, turning to the small table that had a gramophone, and opens the drawer below it. Slowly picking through the various of records stored inside. "Uh Spy? What exactly am I doin' in ya smoking room?" Spy didn't respond, again. He picks out a vinyl record and gently places the record down on the gramophone, and hums as it starts playing.

Scout stares at the gramophone for a moment, processing the music that was continuing to play.

It was nice. "You can stay here for the night, I considered that the music would help with this... 'Ticking.'" Spy replied, taking a seat on the other chair that was near the fire place.

He watched as Scout's expression turn from surprise, to thankful. A tired smile grows on his face as he leans in the couch to get comfortable.

"Thanks for not being an asshole for once," He hears Scout mutter. Spy rolls his eyes as he also leans in his own chair. "Night Spy.."

Spy wouldn't dare admit the small smile on his face as soon as he saw Scout finally relax and fall asleep in peace.

"Aye lad, mind chattin' with ya for a second?"

Spy looked over at the Demo man with a raised brow. They were a minute in before battle started, and everyone was getting ready in Resupply.

"Scout over there seems pretty eh.. Out of it today.." He says as he takes a small sip from his bottle as he nods towards Scout.

Spy follows his movement and spots the runner sitting on one of the benches, leaning on the wall as he messily balances the end of his baseball bat on the ground. Twirling it slightly.

Now his whole position wasn't out of the usual, it was more of his expression.

His face barely showed, indicated, or expressed any emotion. His blue eyes looked dull and fogged as he stared at the wall, and into nothingness.

Spy didn't even think that Scout was capable of doing a poker face.

But what got him to look away in a rush was that Scout's poker face looked almost exactly like his when he was in his youth.

His mouth in a thin straight line, eyes expressed and shown balanced between tired and wide, and his eyebrows barely twitching and basically glued to one spot.

"Scout? Scout are you alright?"

Spy watched as Medic walked over to Scout and shook his shoulder, causing the younger man to shake his head, seemingly snapping out of the expression, and turns to Medic with a more confused look. "Uh yea? What's up doc?" "You were staring at the wall when I called you the first 2 times, are you alright?"

Scout rubbed his eyes and adjusted his cap, then looked back at the doctor. "Yea, yea I'm fine. Just zoned out." He said and waved his hand, standing up as his hand gripped his metal bat as it swung and landed on his shoulder to rest there.

Medic nodded and spoke to him for a while, leaving Spy to contemplate for another few moments.

He didn't have long, before the Administrator shouted in the speakers.

"Startin' to realize he looks like you everyday, huh partner?" Engineer asked, looking over at the Spy with his goggles shining from the light as the doors lift open.

Spy only sighs out a trail of smoke as he drops the cigarette on the floor, and steps on it.

The End :]

#SiC anon writes #tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress two #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #tf2 demo #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #tf2 medic #spydad #dadspy #tf2 dadspy #tf2 spydad

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kylietellin · 5 months

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OMG SO A FEW DAYS AGO I SAW YOUR REGINA GEORGE CURTIS SISTER AND I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO THE SAME PLOT BUT CHER FROM CLUELESS PLEASE!!!!! (It’s kinda funny too because Cher cant drive but soda is all about cars)

I love these blonde character's as curtis sister 😍

"tuff little chick but a fucken sissy on the outside" - Dallas

you're as tough as nails

won't take shit

you're not argumentative or self-destructive like your brothers

will manipulate anyone.

it drives the gang crazy

Darry believes almost everything you say

"I'm goin out" "with who n where?" "just friends, the library" "alright, bye" "y'know she's going to her boy-toy's house, right?"

everytime you say "Ugh, as if", the gang rolls their eyes

two-bit makes fun of your socy ways

"what's with that outfit, huh? tryna get a date with sheldon?" said with a bunch of laughs

or "miss soc here" this and "miss preppy here" that

people assume you're dumb, but you're real street smart & book smart

"ponyboy, you should learn from your sister" "HUH?!"

you intimidate guys a lot

with your brothers, the gang, your personality, etc..

i feel like johnny lowkey gets nervous around you cuz he doesn't want to say the wrong thing

you'll probably end up marrying a soc when you grow up, the gang knows that and will tease you about it

you know you deserve a financially free life and best believe you're going to get what you deserve in the end.

#kylietellsજ⁀➴₊⊹ 🎀#curtis gang #curtis sister imagine #curtis sister

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jihyoruri · 5 months

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these poor ssera girls are always ending up with their biases little sister skfkskkfkdfnns first sakura and irene and now kazuha and jennie

irene sent a text to the family’s gc with “happy new year… to a 2024 with age appropriate relationships! 🤪” 👹👹👹

i forgot to send but cib!yn probably got kazuha a retro hot pink workout set, sakura got a bunch of knitting and camera accessories (also hot pink and glittery) and eunchae got a free pass to ride with her in cibs car 😰

LMAOOO I JUST TOOK THAT IN 😭 AND IRENE WOULD DEFINITELY SAY THAT

I approve of all these gifts but the ride would literally be eunchae screaming her out out since cib!yn cant drive (she’s like cher from clueless) she literally got the car because she thought it was pink and cute

#gidle!yn #cib!yn #kiof!yn

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maximotts · 3 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/maximotts/745979541032484864/hi-frat-nat-taking-and-keeping-wandas-panties

hi sorority wanda not having a car (maybe even a license) is actually the funniest thing ever bc nat complains about her being a pillow princess and now shes a passenger princess too ty

- c (sincerely just a girl obsessed w college wandanat and making a sign off)

You know Cher from Clueless trying to drive? That's Wanda behind the wheel; she's a danger to everyone on the road lmaooo

Nat complains, but then starts noticing Wanda leaving things in her car like her travel cup or her extra shoes and she has to admit, it's kinda cute to come outside to Wanda leaning on her car waiting to be driven...

I'm thinking about Nat calling her a pillow/passenger princess one day and Wanda slipping with the "Yeah yeah, you'd be mad if I wasn't your princess" ... Natasha would have to turn the child lock on to keep Wanda from leaping out of the car after that one uhm-

#helllloo C!#thank you for your college wandanat thoughts I literally love them all so much #you have made my night 💖#seven things au #C anon #answered.

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darkfictionjude · 6 months

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previous asker here! i just saw that in terms of like... mc being utterly confused that someone other than the ros liking that (meanwhile the ros in the background about to burst a vein in anger because how dare that person, only they can like the mc's weirdness factor to that extent). you know, healthy sane relationships and all that ✨

Another thing mc has in common with Cher from clueless (apart from the non-driving virgin) is that they can be just as oblivious. What’s so great about how I created the love stories is that by being in love with mc the ROs becoming more unstable, sign of devotion with your significant other goes as low as you. This will be seen more in season 2 by the mc but like POVs for season 1 from the ROs could show this too

#we are a healthy community #healthylove #sanelove #as sane as Catherine and heathcliff

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literallybyronic · 2 years

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the amount of haters in TW IMDB reviews hollering about how "those 70s outfits look like 90s outfits!!!!!" really drives home how young/clueless they are, so I am going to explain a thing:

people in the 70s didn't everyday dress like Saturday Night Fever. go watch Dazed & Confused and maybe you'll calm down. it's literally the same shit people always wear but with wider pant cuffs and pointier collars. that's fucking it. maybe a strange penchant for LL Bean puffy vests but. Nobody wears fucking Elvis-style polyester bodysuits. Especially not in '72.

90s fashion was HEAVILLLLLYYYYYYY influenced by 60s-70s fashion. where the fuck do you think the flares came from? do you even KNOW how many articles I read about Kate Moss being the new Twiggy, because fuck it got old after a while. Blossom's flowered bucket hats? 1970s. crop tops? 1960s. Cher Horowitz's knee socks with miniskirts? 60s/70s. metallic fabrics? 1970s. chunky platform shoes? take a wild fucking guess. literally every single fucking part of 90s Boho fashion????? HELLO??????

frankly watching them hop from wild unfounded criticism to wild unfounded criticism has been fun these past few months, but this one is just baffling. are NONE of them really old enough to know why 70s fashion and 90s fashion might look similar?????

HELLO???????????

HELLO EARTH TO ANTIS THIS IS YOUR HISTORY CALLING MAYBE LOOK US UP SOMETIME

#c'mon now guys you can have little a do a research #as a treat #fashion #supernatural #spn #the winchesters #spnwin #1990s #1970s

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dragonseeds · 9 months

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ok would love to hear more of your daemyra emma thoughts because i do see the vision and i'm kinda obsessed

yesss i’m glad you see it too because the parallels are driving me insane currently.

emma to me is pseudo incest already—they hated jesus because he told the truth, etc—which is referenced most obviously in clueless when they made josh cher’s step-brother instead of her almost brother-in-law and basically halved the age difference to make it more palatable. i’m pretty sure emma and knightley have the same age difference as daemon and rhaenyra in both books. it’s like sixteen years? so rhaenyra grows up with daemon but not really, and he’s absolutely her gothic uncle but he’s also an older brother figure to her. i think it’s more apparent with daemyra because they’re initially positioned as rivals who are both desperate for viserys’ approval—they’ll never be his son, but they have both been his heir—and they recognize that in each other and help each other make peace with that and occasionally hurt each other with it. when viserys chooses rhaenyra it takes daemon a minute, like he has some Behaviors and crushing realizations, but ultimately he loves her, loves his family, bends the knee to HER. it reminds me of mr. knightley’s understanding of emma’s relationship with her father and how he agrees to stay with her, in her home, because he loves and respects them both despite traditional social conventions. it’s like… the ultimate fun sexy messed up power dynamic to me because despite the gender inequality, both rhaenyra and emma have a level of power and privilege that most women wouldn’t. the imbalance is still there, but there are so many extra levels to it and negotiations within the relationship to play with. especially when you factor in both of their gender issues, which are also tied up in viserys.

aside from that, it’s just vibes. rhaenyra and emma are such similar characters to me! spoiled and entitled when young, high-handed, but clever and charming and deeply loving, willing to learn and grow from their mistakes—motherless and tied up in their relationships with their father. whereas daemon like. couldn’t be more different than mr. knightley, outside of them both being jealous pathetic bitches, but still rhaenyra idealizes him the same way emma does. because they just like each other! they’re old friends and family and they push each other and challenge each other; they have their own language and way of speaking, their own world within the world. it’s a crazy level of intimacy and chemistry, like it genuinely makes me insane?? i love that daemyra explores the darker aspects of such a relationship—i mean it would be impossible not to given the succession struggles and war and dynastic incest, but specifically daemon takes advantage of his access to rhaenyra when she’s younger in a way mr. knightley never does with emma and never would do (which always reads as a power fantasy to me, esp when coupled with emma’s wealth and the relative independence it brings her: she is safe, she has always been safe; daemon and rhaenyra are really just a different more dangerous exploration of this, almost at the other end of the spectrum)—but they’re still also very sweet and indulgent and comfortable with each other. fucked up and interesting and i love that they get to have that for while by sort of stepping into another genre for a moment before everything falls apart partially due to their own batshit horrible decision making and they destroy each other.

#it’s about balance #daemyra #hotd #txt

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crmincls · 4 months

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⸻ dove cameron, 26, cis woman, she/her ; ] welcome to the bastion, CHELSEA DELACROIX. we’ve had a problem with our system, please help me readjust your files. it says here you are 26 and have been around london for YOUR ENTIRE LIFE, correct? yes, i’ve read an article about you - they said you can be CLEVER and RECKLESS, is that true? no matter, i’m sure your position as a PRINCIPAL DANCER @ THE ROYAL BALLET ACADEMY will conceal all of that. all done now. i hope to be seeing more of your BEAT UP PINK BALLET SLIPPERS HANGING ALONG A WALL LIKE TROPHIES, COQUETTISH BOWS HOLDING BACK LONG, CURLY BLONDE HAIR, A ROW OF WIGS WITH THE EXCUSE OF USING THEM FOR DANCES, WEAPONS HIDDEN BENEATH EVERY POSSIBLE SURFACE, PERFECTLY PAINTED RED LIPSTICK in the future. enjoy your stay, and remember the rules. / / daphne kluger ( ocean's 8 ), lorraine broughton ( atomic blonde ), black widow ( marvel ), cher horowitz ( clueless ). [ ⸻ honey, 29, cst, none ;

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬

full name . chelsea louise delacroix

nickname(s) . chels, c

age . 26

sexuality . bisexual

place of birth . london, england

occupation . principal dancer @ the royal ballet academy

height . 5'2"

tattoos . several dainty tattoos that are mostly hidden

piercings . ear lobes twice

pinterest . here

traits . clever, reckless, manipulative, cunning, resourceful, stubborn, determined, vindictive, flirtatious, charming, passionate, loyal

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬

she was born into a world where darkness seemed to be the only thing that existed. never was she one of those girls who basked in the sunlight and daydreamed about a delicate future. no, chelsea has always been a part of the underworld, it birthed her, it raised her.

her mother has a penchant for taking in broken things, but can she raise something of her own? the jury is still out, chelsea has seen hundreds of brothers and sisters pass through her doors and often feels divided from them, never making genuine connections. she's the director's daughter, why would they get close to her? if only they knew it meant her mother was harder on her than anyone else.

dance was a passion from the moment she could walk, but is it her own or was it given to her? chelsea isn't quite sure. she's been doing it her entire life, pushing through broken toes and cracked nails, feet so raw they blister and bleed. but now she's a principal dancer, something she had to prove twice over to achieve.

but that little word nags in her mind, is this what she loves to do ? the answer isn't so simple. dancing can clear her mind, prove to be an escape and often the only time she feels her mother isn't disappointed with her. but the young girl has always seen the darker sides of the academy as her home, a calling from a young teenager who wished to be more.

she's been training in secret most of her life, or others will take pity on her and spar with her. it's forbidden by her mother, but secrets make friends, don't they? some are too foolish or careless to think they'll face consequences, some look down upon her and think it's a harmless task to teach the ballerina to fight.

and now years later she's the perfectly honed weapon, crafted not by her mother's hand. chelsea is deadly, and her biggest weapon is that she doesn't look it. practiced innocence becomes her like a second skin, giggles and pink pass the disguise. after all, how could a ballerina harm someone ?

and so here she sits, begging to join the ranks of the assassins the ballet has to offer, but a mother's refusal to allow it. can she convince her mother now that she's in her mid 20's? Or will she forever remain a porcelain doll meant to only be seen and never touched? right now the only answer is that the dark haired assassin in the city, clad fully in black, has certainly caught the attention of people higher up on the food chain.

fun little bits, she drives a black sports bike only when she's dressed as her little alter ego (who she likes to call vicious), she's kept every pair of ballet slippers she's ever worn, she collects weapons like a gremlin, her preferences are knives, she does love pretty things and enjoys dressing in cute aesthetics, but she also does love black, she has a cat named coco who is a white, long furred little demon and only likes her.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

on the main : an older sibling, details for her mother + a romeo/juliet style ex relationship

ride or die : her best friend, the person she is closest to, and the person who knows all of her secrets. they would do anything for one another and have, as secrets have bonded them closer than siblings.

rival : a fellow dancer, they've always been neck and neck and chelsea often feels her mother is nicer and easier on them than she is to her. it's created a lot of animosity as they are always vying for the top spots.

trainer(s) : either part of the academy or unaffiliated, but they see her drive and her passion and help train her to be the lethal little thing she is. could be years worth of a relationship or more recent.

dalliances : people she is currently seeing or fooling around with, no strings

ex flings : because why not, could have been an amicable ending or messy af

they know : they've figured out the dark haired assassin (she wears a wig) is her and what they choose to do is utp but i would love something angsty, however a balance because i'm not interested in this getting her killed lol

partner : someone who she joins up with for when she wants to have real practice as an assassin. they are part of the ballet and while they are weary for it, don't want to see the princess get hurt either.

#〈 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐗 / 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫 〉#〈 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐚 / 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 〉#〈 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐚 / 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚘 〉#〈 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐚 / 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 〉#〈 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐚 / 𝚍𝚎𝚟 〉#talesfmintro

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seraphinalcpz · 10 months

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𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 . 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 . 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐘 . 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 . 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 .

meet ╲ SERAPHINA LOPEZ

BECKY G & SHE/HER/CIS FEMALE ⸻ i saw SERAPHINA LOPEZ coming through the trees. the TWENTY SIX year old was fleeing from MIAMI, FLORIDA when they came across novac, and have sought salvation within the motel of purgatory. SERAPHINA has been in town for FOUR YEARS and has been assigned as an/a STABLEHAND to keep society running smoothly. no matter what, they will find something to fight for.

— BASICS

NAME: Seraphina Lopez

AGE / D.O.B.: 26 / tbd

GENDER, PRONOUNS & SEXUALITY: cisfemale. she/her bisexual

HOMETOWN: Miami, Florida

JOB POSITION: stablehand

EDUCATION: currently attempting to get an associate’s degree in computer science

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single.

CHILDREN: NONE.

POSITIVE TRAITS: alert , bold , driven , compassionate , confident

NEGATIVE TRAITS: discreet , unforthcoming , blunt , irritable , resentful

❝ 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞— 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭. ❞

✦ — BASICS

FULL NAME: Seraphina Carmen Lopez

NICKNAME: Seraphina or Sapphire

BIRTHDAY: tbd

GENDER: female

HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 5′5″ and 115 lbs

ORIENTATION: bisexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single

OCCUPATION: stablehand

❝ 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞—𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐩, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞. ❞

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 , 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 & 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 : yes / yes / yes .

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 : the thrill of late night adventures , the smell of leather , drive in movies , high fashion trends, beauty products , and red velvet lipstick.

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 : liars , waiting in long lines , losing

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 : collecting old vinyls, writing , listening to music , and taking long walks to clear her mind

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 : n/a

𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 : ambitious , careful , adventurous , honest , direct , open-minded , decisive , independent , spontaneous , passionate, loyal

𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 : impulsive , indecisive , ruthless , reckless

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 : mabel mora (only murders in the building), cher (clueless) , elle woods (legally blonde) , caroline forbes (the vampire diaries) , ginny (ginny & georgia) and jackie burkhart (that 70s show)

✦ BACKGROUND

♔ —— Society says that girls can’t be pretty, smart, and funny all at once. Seraphina completely missed that memo. and not exactly in a girl power kind of way, more of an i’m better than everybody else kind of way. So Seraphina had an ego. So what? it’s true: she is pretty. she is smart. she is funny. her confidence in her god-given gifts grated some people, of course. but she was a magnetic force, whether you liked her or not.

♔ —— Seraphina is a tough girl who knows what she wants and how to get it.

♔ —— Seraphina had a normal childhood. she was raised by his parents in Miami, Florida.

♔ —— Seraphina can be described as “a girl that always gets her way, referring to how she tends get what she wants easier than other people might. Jasmine does have a dark side like everyone does. Seraphina is a bit of wild child and a rebel.

♔ —— She can be an emotional rollercoaster when it comes to her state of mind depending on the situation.

♔ —— Seraphina can be a bit fragile when it comes opening up to anyone emotionally or otherwise.

♔ —— Seraphina is a hopeless romantic but when it comes to someone she finds attractive she gets tongue-tied and stutters in front of them.

♔ —— Seraphina is very much a mess of contradictions. she loves the feeling of being wanted, but at the same time worries that people are looking at her for the wrong reasons. She loves the person she’s becoming, but deep down, she can’t quite overcome the self-hatred that has been ingrained in her. She’s caught between who she really is and who she wants to be, and sometimes she gets a little lost in the midst of it. On the outside, however, Seraphina's is outspoken and opinionated. She won’t hesitate to tell you how she’s feeling, positive or negative. She’s fiercely protective of her friends, and extremely loyal. She’s passionate, fiery, and headstrong. those who really know her, however, might catch glimpses of her more vulnerable side. She treats those she holds dear like absolute gold and would go to the ends of the earth for them. On the flip side of that, though, she holds a grudge like no other, and finds it hard to forgive those who have wronged her.

♔ —— more to be added

✦ WANTED PLOTS

mutual crushes

friends with benefits

frenemies

her ride or die

always open to more

#lastintro #𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐙 ⧽❛ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵘⁿˡᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃˡᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ˢʰᵒᵉˢ ❜ 「 about 」

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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the muggle | part 2.

Summary: Y/N L/N just moved to London from America. Everything was new and weird. London had weird food, weird slang, weird ways of driving. But the weirdest were the people. Especially, the ones in strange robes who always had sticks with them.

Warnings: some smut and a bit of violence

Pairing: Bill Weasley x black!reader, Bill Weasley x muggle!reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

You loved university. Well, not really but you loved some of your professors. You loved your friends and you loved the different life that London was bringing. The only things that sucked were the time difference between your friends and family back home and the food. British food was interesting. Some of it was fantastic but then someone offered you beans on toast and you had to question your entire existence.

You were studying in the library instead of going to the Halloween party. You went to the one on Friday so you felt no need to go to another one on Saturday. You learned from your freshman year that partying all weekend was not the way to go. Especially if you were a double major— getting ahead gave you a peace of mind when exams and the end of semesters came. You were doing literature and creative writing, two sides of the same coin but necessary. You already had a job secured back home with your high school’s headmaster saying you could come back to teach when you graduated— perks of attending a close-knit private school. The thing was, creative writing wasn’t enough.

So, you were doing literature as well and then you’d be ready for a classroom of obnoxious high schoolers saying how much they related to Holden Caulfield or how much Mr. Darcy is what men should strive to be like in the present day. You didn’t really want to teach but it was a good backup because there was no guarantee that you were becoming a best-selling author and you still wanted to be able to eat and live in a house.

Even though you were in the library finishing up your essay on the subtle similarities between Shakespeare’s tragedies and comedies so you could begin your poem portfolio, you were in a costume. You did meet your friends earlier because the English department was showing Halloween-esque movies that were based off of books. Everyone had dressed up for that— you went as Dionne. You were going to be Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz to go with the whole movies adapted from books theme, but then your friend had never seen Clueless because it was only popular in America since it literally just came out. You immediately went to the nearest DVD store and bought it. She loved it so she went as Cher and you were Dionne.

You closed your powerbook— it was a present from your grandfather for getting into a prestigious college last year. The laptop literally just came out and of course everyone wanted it, technology was really getting advanced. You wished your phone matched but Apple didn’t make phones so you had mismatched tech. You packed up the laptop and your notes, ready to leave the library. The Dionne outfit, while cute, was definitely impractical now that it was night time. The wind was determined to attack you and you were beginning to think it was personal.

You decided to take a shortcut home and go through the cemetery so you could cut through the park and be at Grimmauld in less time than walking all the way around. Walking through a cemetery, on Halloween, wasn’t something you would ever do. Hell, you were taught not to even whistle past a graveyard but it was windy and started to rain out of nowhere. You’d quicker fight a ghost with your Dionne heels rather than be shivering and wet. You didn’t run— in case spirits saw it as a challenge— but you quickly walked through the cemetery, keeping your eyes on your shoes.

You grabbed at the gate when a searing pain went through your entire body. You heard a man cackling and then a word you had never heard before. Flashes of light flew over your head and suddenly the cemetery was full of people. You weren’t sure if you were seeing correctly because of the pain but you were positive light was coming randomly from their bodies.

Nott apparated away and the Order huffed. They believed Harry when he said Voldemort was back and it was obvious by the amount of Death Eaters that the Ministry had cleared all those years ago coming back to wreak havoc. They had been searching for the Order and for Harry. He was protected by Hogwarts and Lily’s love when he was at Privet Drive, they were protected by Grimmauld but Voldemort was working tirelessly to find a way to break one of those charms. They were getting closer and closer to the headquarters each day. Moody looked down at you shivering on the ground. The Death Eaters must have been stalking the area they assumed Grimmauld was and had seen you enough times to start trailing, hoping there would be a slip up. You were holding your hand that looked like it had just been burned.

“Weasley, the gate,” Moody directed.

Bill checked the gate. There was, in fact, a curse on it. Nott and whoever was helping hadn’t cut corners. He kneeled down to help you stand up. More words you didn’t understand were muttered and the pain subsided enough that you were only gritting your teeth.

“We need to take you home and get that properly fixed,” Bill said.

You tried to joke through the pain. “This is what I get for walking through a graveyard.”

Bill held onto you the entire walk back. Your eyes widened as you watched your building move and a new door appeared next to your flat’s door. You chuckled to yourself. So that was where the number twelve went. You had been wondering how they forgot and skipped that number because your building wasn’t just odd numbers.

You were led up the stairs and through the hall into the living room. Bill directed you to a large armchair, setting your backpack down next to you. You watched him pull out a stick and continue with the weird words while the large man with the glass eyeball walked off. A woman who seemed close to your age— maybe even the same age— with purple hair came out with multiple drinks and set them on the end table next to you.

“You need to drink this foul looking one, other two are butterbeer and pumpkin juice. Didn’t know which one you wanted,” she spoke quickly and left just as quickly— almost like she disappeared.

Bill watched you stare at the spot that contained Tonks moments ago. He had to admit, you were taking this better than most muggles. You just seemed confused which was much better than the screaming and sputtering— those took the longest to obliviate because of how much the muggles were moving around. You looked down at the guy kneeling in front of you.

“This is going to sound stupid but… what the actual fuck is going on?”

He chuckled. “Drink the potion.”

“If this is to drug me, when I regain consciousness, I’ll kick your ass. Don’t let the outfit fool you, I will dropkick you.”

“Dropkick?”

“Yeah, I kn— wait, do you not know what that is?”

“Drink the potion.” Bill waited for you to put it to your lips. “Dropkick, is that American or muggle slang?”

You choked. “God, that’s awful. What’s in it, goblin spit?”

“Unicorn spit, actually.”

You froze before setting the cup down. “Okay, that’s nasty. Um, yeah, no— that’s…”

“So, what’s a dropkick?” Bill asked as you reached for the pumpkin juice before spitting it back into the cup and picking up the butterbeer.

You swirled around the drink, scared to take a sip of it after the first two. This was beans on toast and blood pudding all over again. The warm drink made it past your lips. You hummed at the pleasant taste, head bobbing as you drank more. You set it down after draining the cup.

“You kick someone like a kangaroo. It makes you fall to the ground too since we don’t have tails but trust me, it’s effective.”

“Hmm, dropkick.”

“What’s a muggle?”

Bill waved his wand. “Someone who can’t do magic… I’m surprised you’re not screaming by now.”

“It’s Halloween, weird shit always happens on Halloween. So you’re a witch, does London have a lot of those?”

“It’s wizard. The women are witches.”

“Um, if you’re a wizard, where’s the staff?”

“Staff?”

“Yeah. Big stick. Gandalf… ‘you shall not pass’, no?”

Bill snorted as he let go of your now healed hand. “Whatever muggle rubbish you’ve read, it’s not true. Do you want another butterbeer?”

You nodded. Bill walked into the kitchen to get another drink. You stayed in the armchair but let your eyes wander around the entire room. It looked very normal for a bunch of wizards and witches. Not that you knew what their house would look like but you expected more… magic? You looked down at your hand, good as new. You were going to believe it was the guy helping you and not the drink that apparently had unicorn spit in it. Because you were going to die if you had to acknowledge the fact that you might have just drank unicorn spit. The guy came back with another butterbeer for you and one for him.

“So do my rescuers have names or is it just hot wizard , wizard with the eye, cool witch with purple hair?”

“Thanks!” A voice called from upstairs.

Bill laughed. “Cool witch with purple hair is Tonks. The other man was Moody, I’m Bill.”

A door closed, something sounded like it got knocked over, and you heard the obnoxious screams of a woman followed by ‘shut up, Mother’. The yelling stopped and another man strolled in. You looked at the older guy with the leather jacket and then back at Bill.

“And Jacket Wizard?” you asked, pointing.

“Sirius Black,” Jacket Wizard answered. “What’s she doing back here?”

Sirius sat down confused. You stopped drinking as you processed his words.

“Back here? Why would I be back here?”

You set the glass down, close to you. Moody and Tonks came downstairs. You pretended to scratch at an itch as Moody explained what happened the last time on a night you didn’t remember. Really, you were unclipping the straps on your heavy, chunky heels. You scoffed as he finished.

“Obliviate? Guys, so not cool. That’s literally a violation.”

“If we didn’t, yo—”

“How do we know you don’t just obliviate the memory of you. You could be taking whatever you wanted. Violation. Don’t try to say otherwise.”

Moody shrugged like he didn’t really care. Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at you. “We’ll only take tonight, I promise you that. Nice to meet you, you’re an interesting muggle. Let’s not make this a habit of saving you. Obl—”

Your shoe hit him in the face and made him drop his wand. You threw the glasses on the table and your other shoe at Sirius. Grabbing the lamp, you held it out like a sword and swung it around to stop them from getting near you.

“Absolutely not!” You yelled. “There will be NO erasing of anyone’s mind, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Sirius started laughing as he held his face. “Are all American muggles like this or is it just you? She’s great.”

“Hey,” Bill held his wand up in a sort of surrender. “Can we put the lamp down?”

“Nope.”

Bill nodded and then looked at the others. Hurting a muggle wasn’t how they handled things and you were also in a corner with lots of throwable objects. Bill held out a hand to the others and they all gave him their wands. He showed you the little collection and then set them down on the armchair that you had been sitting in.

“Can we set the lamp down now?”

You slowly put your weapon back on the table and grabbed the wands. “You get these back when I walk out.”

“Your shoes,” Sirius called as you started to walk away.

You shoved their wands in your backpack so they couldn’t grab them while putting your shoes back on. Tonks’s face changed from surprised at your fight to amused as you took the butterbeer bottle with you before walking down the hall. You set down the four wands when you had reached the door. They watched you quickly dart out of the house and down the stairs. The slam of your own flat door could be heard. Tonks laughed.

“I like her.”

You passed out, hoping everything was a weird dream. The morning brought the strange reality that it wasn’t a dream. But it was Sunday, which meant grocery day. You sighed as you looked out of your window to see rain. You got dressed accordingly, choosing a raincoat instead of an umbrella. With reusable bags in hand, you locked the door to 11 Grimmauld and left.

Sirius and Bill caught you looking at the space where 12 Grimmauld should have been. You tilted your head and frowned. They watched you shrug once before swinging your empty bags and walking off. Sirius turned his head when he saw Bill shrug on jacket and grab an umbrella.

“Where are you going?”

“Someone has to make sure she doesn’t go telling everyone.”

Sirius chuckled. “That’s the face of some bloke who just saw a pretty girl.”

Bill rolled his eyes and left the house. He saw you turn the corner and began walking. Bill froze when you turned suddenly. Your eyes narrowed as you walked up to him. You stuck a hand out, palm up. He pulled his wand from his pocket and placed it in your hand.

“How did you know I was behind you? I barely took five steps.”

“We don’t just walk places in America without checking your surroundings. I don’t know how you do it here but it’s called safety measures where I’m from… where do you store this?”

“Special pockets. I’m not—”

“Don’t trust you. Have you heard of a hair stick?”

“What?”

That answered your question. There was no place to store Bill’s wand without possibly breaking it. You were glad you chose to take out your braids early for a proper wash and deep condition because now you could put your curls up in a bun. Bill watched you stick the wand in your hair. You moved to walk next to him under the umbrella, now that your jacket hood was off and it was still raining.

“So, why am I being stalked by hot wizard and how did you get stuck with babysitting duty?”

“My nam—”

“Bill. I remember. Do you not like the nickname? I can stop.”

“No, it’s fine— Hot wizard’s great but if someone hears.”

“I mean no one’s going to believe in…” you waited for the couple on the street to walk past. “Wizards. No offense. I’m just saying if I said I met a wizard, they’d think it was a joke. And then they’d send me to the loony bin if I kept insisting. Not even a good mental health place, I mean the literal loony bin. Make a left.”

You reached your grocery store, grabbing a small cart and putting your bags down in it. Bill wasn’t prepared for that answer. Why wouldn’t people believe in wizards? The magic was right there, his wand was in your hair for heaven’s sake. One look at that and people should believe in it. You looked through all the eggs in the carton to make sure they weren’t broken and set it in your cart.

“Oh, thanks for fixing my hand. I have a Mary Shelley that needs annotating for my class and doing it with the other hand would have been such a pain in my ass.”

“A Mary Shelley?”

“Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein… holy crap, you’ve never heard of Frankenstein?”

Bill shook his head.

“Being a wizard blows. How have— there’s so many Frankenstein movies. Just pick a DVD and watch it, I’ll lend you the book when I’m done with it.”

Bill scratched his head as you finished scratching the last item off of your list. He watched you pay and then the two of you left the store to be greeted by a no longer raining sky. Bill waited till you weren’t around customers trying to get into the store.

“Uh, what’s a DVD?”

You stopped and looked at him. “Are you serious?”

He nodded.

“Bill, you’ve gone from hot wizard to clueless wizard. Tell you what. I don’t have class on Tuesday and lucky for you I do my work at least two months early, so come over and we’ll watch Frankenstein. This is a date, by the way.”

You took the wand from your hair and tried to get your curls into a non-bun shape. Bill took the wand back and watched you go inside your flat. Sirius was laughing from the window when he came in. Bill brushed him off and went to look at the letters that the owl just dropped off.

Tuesday rolled around and Bill sat awkwardly in the living room. You just said Tuesday but never gave a time. Did muggles just expect everyone to know a time or did it mean come over whenever? He waited until dinner time and grabbed some butterbeers before leaving the house to walk back up the stairs and knock on your door. He felt silly when he could literally apparate next door but Sirius said that would probably be a bad idea.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” you said as you opened the door.

You held out a hand and he immediately knew to cough over his wand. Your flat looked very different from Sirius’ one. The first thing he noticed was it seemed more modern.

“Shoes off at the door… make yourself comfortable, don’t worry about breaking anything. It’s all IKEA.”

Bill wasn’t even going to ask this time. He just took a seat and set the butterbeers down on the coffee table. You brought over a large bowl of popcorn, having dropped off Bill’s wand on your kitchen counter. Bill watched you pick up one of the various DVDs and started to wonder how he got here. You came back to the couch, grabbing two blankets from your blanket basket and handing one to him. It was a date or that’s what you said. But he seemed so confused when you were talking yesterday that you were going to take it one step at a time. You hoped that one step at a time involved more dates and maybe some making out— which someone said snogging once and you laughed at the funny term— because Bill was attractive. You stayed up the other night, just to be in the same timezone as your friend when you called her.

Leaving out the wizard detail, you told her about your rescue and the grocery store. Your friend said that you should go for the handsome and mysterious British man. You had already been on some dates while here but nothing had gotten very far. A lot of guys seemed to think that you were on exchange and would be leaving soon no matter how much you insisted that you had completely transferred universities.

“It’s the black and white version. I was going to pick a recent edition but nothing wrong with a good classic,” you said as you leaned down to grab some popcorn.

Bill nodded and mimicked you. At this point, the popcorn was the only thing he knew for certain that he understood. The DVD, as you called it, was playing and he thought that movies were a bit like their wizard pictures. Only a lot longer. The movie finished and you turned to look at him.

“I’ve got more movies if you want to watch another one. Also, dinner. There’s more food than popcorn, we could order takeout.”

“Sure.”

You told Bill to choose a movie while you went to the house phone on the wall. He kept switching from looking at movies to watching you play with the cord of the phone as you asked for various containers of Chinese food from the restaurant down the street. You hung up and went to the kitchen to grab glasses for the butterbeers that Bill brought. He looked up when his own wand was pointed in his face.

“Here.”

He took it back, carefully, not wanting to scare you into thinking he was going to use it. He went back to the movies and picked up one to show you. You grinned.

“I love this one. ‘You come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married’… it’ll make sense in a minute,” you said as you grabbed The Godfather movie. “Can you get the door? Money’s on the table somewhere.”

Bill got up to get the food as you switched out one DVD for another. He came back with a bag of takeout and sat back down on the couch, a little more comfortably than last time. The movie started up again and you both were chowing down on food while watching. You seemed to be enjoying the movie way more than he did. He wasn’t getting it— he didn’t really get Frankenstein either. There was a weird insistence that the doctor revived the monster without magic. It was a creature made of dead parts. Magic had to be involved. At least this movie wasn’t doing that. He liked the acting and the outfits but he didn’t see why this plot was so adored.

You finished eating and reached for the fortune cookies. You had seen The Godfather enough to quote it and you were positive that Bill didn’t care if he missed part of it. You held both packets of cookies in your hands.

“Left or right?” you asked.

“Right?”

Bill took the fortune cookie from your right hand. He followed your instructions about breaking it and eating one half before reading the fortune.

“What’s yours say?”

“Ask a friend to join you on your next voyage.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, then eat the other half of the cookie.”

“Why?”

“Well, you eat the first half before reading it to show the universe that you have faith in the fortune. Then, you eat the second half after so you can say thank you for the good fortune.”

Bill chewed the second half under the advice you gave. The messages weren’t enchanted so he wasn’t sure how they could actually come true. You took a chance and moved a little closer so that your knee was brushing against his. Bill looked down and then back at you but you weren’t even paying attention, reaching for the butterbeer.

“I love this stuff,” you said after taking a swig. “You guys should sell this to, what did you call us, muggies?”

He chuckled. “Muggles.”

“Hmm, well you should sell this to muggles. It would make a fortune, so good.”

“I’ll bring it to our next date. When are you free?”

“I don’t have classes on Tuesdays and Fridays.”

“Keep those days open, then.”

You and Bill didn’t move any closer that night but you finished the movie with his hand on your knee. He was kicked out when it was over because you had an 8 a.m. class. Bill headed back to Sirius’ where the Order members that were there— Sirius, Tonks, Hestia Jones, and Lupin— began to question him. Tonks didn’t know if it was the best idea, even if she did like you, considering Bill only seemed to work dangerous jobs. Hestia left after giving her opinion that Bill shouldn’t have established a second date. Lupin groaned when Bill admitted there was an ongoing schedule of free dates established, not just a second one. He tried to tell Bill that he saw his mother give up her life basically for him and his father. He didn’t know if he agreed with that.

“Do you even know what her ambitions are in life?”

Bill recalled the talk to the grocery store. “She writes, wants to be an author. School teacher is her backup.”

“He wouldn’t really be impacting her life, Moony,” Sirius said.

Bill shrugged them off. It probably wouldn’t even last much longer. You were an interesting girl and he hadn’t dated in a minute— he was going to enjoy his time. Sirius and Tonks could get behind that and eventually so did Remus.

Not lasting much longer turned into Bill seeing you every Tuesday and Friday for the entire month of November. He only missed once or twice because of an Order mission. The two of you usually were watching movies in your flat which he noticed was slowly accumulating more books. You explained that being a double major in literature and creative writing turns houses into libraries rather quickly. Whenever it was a movie date, he brought butterbeer. If you two went out, it was to a pub where he would learn about you before going on a walk where you could freely talk about him without others listening in. November rolled into the first week of December. Bill apparated into your home— getting permission to do so.

“William Weasley, it is the start of the most magical time of year!” you laughed as you stepped out from the kitchen when you saw him in the living room.

Your flat was decked out for Christmas— you were one of those people that got really into holidays. Bill looked at the pile of DVDs on the table. They were all Christmas themed. He picked Home Alone and relaxed on the couch. The blanket you two were sharing was fleece and decorated in tiny pine trees. One of Bill’s arms was wrapped around you and the other was draped over the top of the couch.

“Did you finish your poem portfolio?” he asked while the previews were playing.

“No, I still have two more until I meet the quantity requirement. Poetry’s hard.”

“But after that, you’re done with the semester?”

“Yep, I finished all my final papers. There’s nothing worse than struggling last minute, I learned that the hard way last year. Never doing that again.”

“Are you going home for Christmas, Muggie?”

Ever since you called muggles, muggies, that name stuck. Bill thought it was cute because it was one thing you were clueless about. Usually, he felt like the clueless one because you seemed to quickly adapt to whatever he said about the wizarding world while he was just confused about muggles.

“No. We all thought it’s best if I stay here for a year before coming back, before homesickness sets in and I don’t want to return. My family’s coming over in spring, though.”

The two of you got quiet as the movie started. You weren’t quiet for long. Bill asked lots of questions and you tried to answer all of them before the next scene started and he asked more questions. He chuckled as the robbers were bested and declared that he liked Home Alone. You turned over to look up at him when the movie finished. It was Friday so you could stay up longer and watch more movies. It also meant more time to talk in between them. Bill looked down when you started to chuckle.

“What’s funny?”

“My friend was asking about you when she called earlier… I think she thinks you’re black and I forgot to correct her.”

“Hmm? That matters?”

Your eyebrows knitted together. “I mean it shouldn’t but yeah it does. She means well though. She’s more concerned that you’re not a racist, doesn’t actually care about you being white.”

“Oh,” Bill said, simply.

“Is racism not a thing for wizards?”

“I don’t even think I remember what the word racism means. We learned about it in Muggle Studies once, I’m sure of it.”

“Hating people because of skin color is a basic definition.”

“Oh, like blood purity… yeah, wizards have racism then.”

“What’s blood purity?”

Bill began to give you a breakdown on the different categories of wizards and witches. You thought it was just magic and no magic. Witches and muggles. But there was a whole system behind it. Purebloods sounded like supremacists to you which is why your jaw dropped when you asked Bill what his family was considered.

“But they all call us blood-traitors, not like we care.”

“That’s insane. Just because you don’t have trash views? They should check themselves instead of your family.”

Bill smiled. “I can never tell what’s muggle and what’s American with you. Yeah, I mean it’s not all purebloods but most think it’s wrong to associate with muggle-borns and the lot. They’re missing out on meeting some amazing people… I fancy you.”

You tilted your head. “What?”

“I fanc— you don’t know what that means,” he chuckled.

Bill muttered ‘American’ before leaning down. His hand tilted your head farther back as his lips connected with yours. You felt dizzy. In that moment, you decided butterbeer tasted better on someone’s lips than it ever could from the bottle. You pulled apart for a moment. You moved to straddle him and continued kissing. Bill’s hands gripped your waist before one snaked down to your butt. You moaned into his mouth as his hands squeezed you and he began to move you back and forth over his lap. You could feel everything through your thin shorts, especially because Bill was wearing jeans. His hand moved to your front, going past your shorts and right into your underwear. Bill smirked as you gasped when he inserted a finger. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your head dropped to his neck. A loud moan left your mouth as you shuddered around his hand. You looked up with blown-out pupils to see Bill sucking his own fingers. He grabbed your chin with the wet hand and kissed you again.

“Bill, Bill,” you muttered when he went to take off your shirt. “I have a bedroom.”

You yelped when he smacked your ass and held onto you as he moved to the bedroom. There was no hesitation once the back of your legs touched the mattress. Your clothes were shed right away— Bill taking a little longer because he was in jeans. He kissed down your body, teasing with light kisses on your thighs before returning to between your legs. A hand snaked into his red hair and you tried to pull Bill closer as if he wasn’t pressed flush against your body. He pinned you down with an arm over your stomach while he enjoyed himself and the way you gasped out his name. His other hand gave attention to your chest that he felt had been neglected. When he was satisfied, Bill moved back to your face. He looked you in the eyes as he grabbed his wand from the nightstand.

“Do you trust me? We can do this the muggle way if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I trust you, Bill.”

He pointed to himself and then you, mumbling words that you were sure you would never understand. You caught something that sounded like the word temporary. The wand was put back on the stand and Bill brushed his thumb over your cheekbone.

“It’ll only last a day, promise.”

“I trust y—”

Your mouth dropped open, no sound coming out, as Bill pushed into you. He wasn’t just tall but was big all over. Bill waited for a nod from you before rocking his hips. The bed creaked as he went faster. He blindly reached for his wand and mumbled two silencing spells against your lips. The wand fell off the nightstand when he missed as he blindly tried to put it back. Your nails marked up his back as he kept going. You kissed at his collarbone, knowing and happy that you would leave a hickey with no problem.

Your moans went from loud to breathy to silent as you came. Bill finished with a shout of your name. He rested on top of you for a moment, kissing at your neck. You winced a bit as he pulled out. Bill told you sorry before sticking his head over the side of your bed to try and find where his wand had rolled to. You smiled— still a bit out of breath— as you felt your body get cleaned off.

“Do you want clothes?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

“Accio Muggie’s pajamas.”

Your drawers opened and closed. Bill bent and straightened your arms and legs to help put your pajamas on. He got off of the bed briefly to put on his own underwear. You groaned.

“My hair.”

“What do you need?”

“My headscarf, put my hair up in a pineapple.”

“Accio headscarf. Let’s get Muggie’s hair all pretty.”

Bill watched the scarf move. He had seen you twice before with it on when he showed up early Tuesday morning and remembered the style. Your head was lifted for you as your hair went up before you were gently returned to the pillow.

“I love magic,” you sighed.

Bill looked down at your half-closed lids and chuckled. He moved you both underneath the duvet. You started off with your head on his chest before both of you moved into a spooning position. Bill kissed your shoulder blade before letting sleep start to consume him. He had fallen hard for you and decided he wouldn’t have it any other way.

(Part 3)...

#bill weasley x black!reader #bill weasley x reader

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spidertgirl · 1 year

Text

Spider-Gwen and the Case of the Monday Blues

Part One- Monday Morning, So Forlorning

TW: This is just a little pre-Spider-Verse, ITSV Spider-Gwen transromance fic with Peter Parker (AFAB, before coming out). As the story takes through Gwen’s perspective, Patricia is dealt in prose as a woman. This is a plot point. Let me WRITE!!

This is also supposed to be cushy as shit so don’t take this too seriously. I literally finished writing it and immediately copy and pasted it here without any edits so its a bit rough. I just like posting.

Gwen hated Mondays.

Well, more than most. Sundays she tended to stay up all night, either catching up on schoolwork she missed catching criminals, or criminals she missed catching up on schoolwork.

Either way, loud blaring music kept her up far into the night. Last Night’s flavor was a local Hardcore band, mixed with some Beastie Boys, and a bit of Shoegaze.

Her ears were screaming bloody valentines like the worst hangover imaginable, and the wind rushing past them as she swung between skyscrapers did nothing to help. She had to stop and fall onto a nearby taxi just to get some relief.

Which was odd, she would have noticed if she had time to think. Her Sunday routine had long included ear-breaking decibels before and she thought nothing of it. A part wondered if she had just left her earphones in overnight, or taken a few too many hits, but the whole of her was somewhere else.

Something about this morning just drove her Spidey Sense wild. She barely felt it unless danger was right before her. Gwen looked everywhere- no danger. Well, a few dangers. She cautiously stopped a falling passerby, slowed a speeding car, tied a stranger's shoes, and a great deal more simple but thoughtful gestures. It did nothing to heal head, ear, or sense.

But her fears came and past, her school almost came and past before she realized it, and she was quickly distracted by another fear.

“Guess what day it is today?” Patricia asked. Gwen shook her head.

“No, I give up.”

“You didn’t even try! C’mon, one guess.”

“Mmm… the day Mr. Peterson is finally gonna commit to his alopecia and just go bald?” Her friend laughed, and gave her a light push on the shoulder.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I, there are only so many hats in the world that can cover up that sunk cost fallacy.”

“So you have no clue?”

“As clueless as Scooby Doo. Or Cher. Can I change my answer to Cher?”

“Honey, if you’re Cher I’ll get to be Tai.”

“Why Tai? Oh that rhymes!”

“Why Tai, why I always related to her untamable mass of curly hair, my Cheri.”

Gwen realized it was halfway through English and she still didn’t know what Patricia was talking about.

“I’m lost.”

“It’s not that hard Gwen, Mr. Morton is the subject of the sentence because-”

“No, what’s today?”

“One month.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Still nothing.”

“Babe, I love you but you really are clueless.”

“What’re you gonna do with me?”

“Maybe throw you out in a box like a cat. Or, I guess a Jar would be more fitting.”

“Wha- oh. Haha, very funny.” She thought for a moment.

“Do the cat’s really get thrown out with a box? I thought they found it. Like a hermit crab.”

“Of course, otherwise it’s just a cruel thing to do, throwing out a cat.”

“Yeah, but they have a bad habit of getting back in. We used to have-”

“This cat named Mary who used to sneak into your house and-”

“We could never quite throw out- what don’t you know about me?”

“Nothing, now think.”

Gwen could only think of Patty throwing her out the window in a glass cup.

Maybe the shock would get her feeling right. She didn’t know if it was sleep deprivation, embarrassment, or some secret third thing that was keeping her from focusing, but it was driving her insane.

She loved Patricia, and she really wanted to do right by her and their relationship. But she knew they had been dating for almost a year at this point, so ‘one month’ didn’t quite make sense. If only this damn fog would leave her head!

And that creepy feeling down her spine, if she could help it. It’s terribly unhelpful to have a spider sense that’s always turned on. Like radar at a metal concert- useless. Absolutely and positively useless.

She took a hit of the dog that bit her between classes, a smooth, poppier song. It almost did the thing, but a tug on her shoulder stopped her and took her headphones before she had the chance.

“What, you avoiding me now?”

“W- No, never! I’m just… kinda out of it.”

“I’m busting your literal and proverbial balls babe. Go to the nurse, see if she can help. And keep thinking!”

Gwen was gonna refuse- super healing and all- but remembered an especially bad hit to the side of her head that knocked her vision out for a few seconds. And apparently some memory too- not good. That’s concussion territory, she thought.

Or not, she didn’t have a super good grasp on medical sciences, but she watched enough scary news stories with her dad about sports medicine to know concussions are common and quick killers.

Still nothing on the date front though. She thought about everything she did a month ago, everything she said. Only the foggiest came through, the rest a mystery.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“I, uh… fell pretty hard and I think I might have a concussion. So… could you check it out?”

The nurse laughed.

“Sure, Bren- is that right?” the nurse eyed her up and down, with a wary eye.

“Gwen, ma’am.”

“Well, Gwen, why do you think you have a concussion?” she said, pulling out a small flashlight.

“Follow my finger.”

“I just feel sorta odd,” she said, eye clinging to finger for dear life.

“Headache?”

“Yeah.”

“Nausea?”

“A little.”

“Confusion?”

“A lot- I mean, huh?”

“Funny girl- loss of consciousness?”

“Uh, when I first… fell?”

“For how long?”

“Oh, a few seconds.” Barely two, by her guess. Not enough for her to lose her footing in the fight, but just enough to distract her, let them get the slightest upper hand.

It was a big job, with some fancy weapons. Not street level crime, this was something bigger. She kept one for questioning, but…

Wait, what happened to him? Gwen was half convinced she let him sit there forever while she went home in a fugue state, but that didn’t seem to likely.

“Ringing in the ears?”

“No, but they’re sensitive.”

“Blurry vision?”

“No? I mean, I wear contacts.”

“Blurrier vision?” Gwen squinted.

“No.”

“Ok, anything else? You can quit following my finger now.” Gwen didn’t realize she followed it right into her coat pocket.

“Oh, sorry. I feel… on edge, I guess.”

“On edge?”

“Yeah. Tingly, frightful.”

“Anxious?”

“Yeah, that’s the word! Anxious- more anxious.”

The nurse walked back to her computer.

“Ok, you probably have a concussion.”

“Shit- I mean-”

“It’s fine. Did you drive here?”

“No, I’m a freshman.”

“Good. Call your dad and have him take you to the hospital.”

“Cool- can I go outside to make the call?”

“No, I don’t think you should honestly be doing any extraneous physical activity.”

Gwen made her phone call in complete view of the nurse, much to her chagrin. The Nurse didn’t even make an effort to turn away- in fact, it seemed like she was watching the detail with great detail!

Gwen did not like this Nurse.

Gwen almost toppled over Patricia.

“Oh, watch where- oh hey. Did you just swing into me? Do you have a concussion?”

“No time to explain- I need makeup wipes.”

Patricia did not look happy.

“I’d actually kind of like to know my if my girlfriend’s got a concussion, actually.” Gwen was taken aback.

“I- shit, I’m sorry, I’m just really in a rush and I’m in a hurry-”

“Spider-Woman shit?”

“Life shit! I finally have life shit again- P, I just need you to start rummaging for your makeup wipes and I’ll explain.”

“Fine,” Patricia said, swinging her bag around and digging through it.

“I totally do have a concussion and I’m super sorry that I don’t remember what day it is but I just snuck out of the nurse’s bathroom to find you because my dad’s about to pick me up and she made me take the phonecall in front of her, and-”

“Here-”

“I thought that would take longer-” Gwen said, grabbing them, before Patricia holds them back.

“And?”

“And? Oh, I love you?”

“Sure, hon. Love you too.”

They both ran to the bathroom and started taking the make up off, four sinks running to hide their chat.

“So what actually is it?”

“It’s your one month transiversary, hun! Or, one month of being out at school.”

“Wait, really? Shit, I had no idea. Do you keep like a… handbook on me at home or something?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“No, I actually kinda would. That’s sorta weird.”

“More of a scrapbook?”

“That’s sorta cute- how do I look?”

“Ready for a Proud Boys rally. Well, drop the wig. And the skirt. And the thigh highs. And the-”

“I get it, I need to change. I’ll be back.”

“Can I watch?” Patty joked from outside the stall.

“I’ll have to charge you!” Gwen said, rummaging through her purse, past her Spiderwoman costume from her morning swing, and pulling out her slacks and sneakers.

“How long do you have?”

“I don’t know, probably a good ten, fifteen minutes. I used a youtube compilation called Ten Hours of People Shititng Farting And Groaning.”

“Weird and gross.”

“Even weirder thing is I had it saved.”

“Ew, gross.”

“Yeah, but pretty clever. Bet you're proud of your ol gir-” when Gwen opened the door, Patty was holding a small colorful parcel, wrapped with ribbon.

“I- is this a gift?”

“Yeah. I was gonna do blue and pink but I figured that’s a lil sus, so it’s red and blue. Basically the same thing. I had to cut up an american flag wrapping paper to make it, so the lace has a few holes that were once stars.”

“Aww, I love a little rebellious flag code violation! This is so sweet Pats, you didn’t have to. Can I open it in the hospital.”

“Oh, not… here?”

“Well it’s been ten minutes so far, and I need time to swing back and find the right window. And honestly I think I probably shouldn’t even swing. Besides, it'll cheer me up, I hate hotel rooms. Sorry, is that not fine?”

“Uh, no. No, it’s totally cool, babe, I get it. I don’t want you to be depressed if you’re there for a while. Call me if you’re there past six and I’ll visit you.”

“Ok- thank you, for everything. I really mean it. I… I don’t know. I owe you something. A lot, really babe. I’m sorry this Spider-Woman thing is such a problem.”

“I get it. Great Power means Great Responsibility.”

“That’s beautiful. Is that from one of your poems?”

“A comic book I read.”

“Figures. See you. Love you,” she added at the end and ran away.

She wondered if she shouldn’t have said anything at all. She always had a bad habit of never knowing when to keep her damn mouth shut, and Spider-Woman only galvanized her wit and ego to dramatic parts. She rarely felt like herself, save for when she was Gwen. When she was with Patty. When she was happy.

She wanted to say all these things, run back into her and find her… but it was probably too late. She’d call her, at least. That’s the least that she could do.

Finding the window was quicker and easier than the run- Gwen’s head just did not let up. She wondered why her supposedly super healing wasn’t helping any. But the door was locked. She stumbled through the window, and sat for a moment composing herself upon the toilet, letting her head settle in the dark room.

But when Gwen stood and walked to the door, where the phone was so perfectly placed…

“Shit, I could’ve sworn I put it there.”

The door creaked open. The Nurse and Gwen’s dad were standing there. Gwen’s dad was holding her phone.

“And you just did, young lady. What’s that- fifteen dollars now?”

“I hate your swear jar.”

“And your hate is expressed in gentle and thought out ways. Why did you leave the room? Actually, how did you even get down?”

“Why did you guys even open the door? I was on the toilet!”

“Usually I make it a habit to respond when my students with brain trauma stop responding and start groaning. Also I didn’t understand why you were so obsessed with selling me Raid Shadow Legends.”

Curse that Autoplay.

To be continued

Chapter Two coming soon!

A Stunning Preview of this Story’s Action Packed Finale!

“What’s that?” Gwen had almost gone to sleep before Patricia’s voice woke her up.

“What?”

“That… blinking red thing?”

“Pat, it’s a hospital, there are a lot of blinking red things.”

“Not really. It’s like, a laser. I mean not really, but it’s super bright. See look, there’s a dot there on the wall.”

Sure enough, Gwen stared on the darkness past her girlfriend… and there was the red light. Blinking. Unmoving.

Gwen was just as paralyzed. She looked to Patricia and Patricia looked back, more frightened.

“What is that

“I don’t know, but whatever it is Gwen… it’s coming from you.”

#spider gwen #itsv #spider-verse #spider verse #trans SpiderGwen #itsv fanfiction #atsv fic #itsv fic #spidergwen fic #spidergwen/peter Parker #trans peter parker #yes this is a period piece #hence the Raid Shadow Legends meme #across the spiderverse fanfiction #Spiderverse fic #ok that’s enough tags I apologize for any spelling errors. this was something small I was writing for myself and I ended up writing way-#more than I expected and in the rush of people sharing fun Spider-Verse fanart I felt inspired to rush it #and post. bc it’d be fun to post fanfics on my tumblr

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