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hyperesthesias · 7 months

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Can you actually write something smutty for Viktor? Or just a guide on how to? I really want to write some Viktor smut, but I'm worried I won't do his disability justice as I'm able bodied and a dumbass

Of my twelve years on this webbed site, this has got to be the best ask I have ever received lmao

I would be happy to help, friend. I'll answer this in two parts.

Yes, I am planning on writing Viktor smut for Viktor x Anya. I had a lot happen in the year since I made the post you're referencing, but I've finally been able to get back into fandom stuff. I wanted to lay some backstory with them first though, as I am apparently a PWP kind of person lmao. It's coming soon! (No pun intended).

You've taken the first great step in recognizing that your experience and knowledge may not be congruent with potential portrayal, and therefore asking for advice. I don't mean to sound patronizing at all. I am an author and I have seen many professional authors that don't do this, so you're already ahead of the game! I wouldn't consider that dumbassery in any way, shape, or form.

I'll put the rest under a cut due to the nature of this post.

*Disclaimer to this is, of course, I don't speak for every disabled person, this list isn't extensive, and these are my opinions.

I, personally, operate under the assumption that Viktor has Post Polio Syndrome. Looking at photographs (x, x, x) it's pretty clear the animators used PPS as a framework for Viktor's movements and posture, as well as his mobility and assistive devices. People with PPS often develop need for braces, canes or crutches, and treatment for scoliosis -- all of which Viktor has. You are more than welcome to headcanon something different, as I don't believe the writers or animators have ever confirmed or denied PPS, but based on my own experience and research, I would bet money on it.

That being said -- regardless of PPS, or otherwise -- the first thing to consider when writing smut for any disabled character is fatigue. It may not be the obvious thing, as mobility devices often are the first thing to catch an observer's eye. But there is so much that goes on beneath mobility devices. Fatigue is a big one.

Consider the worst flu you've ever had -- all the time, every day, even in your sleep. It can be maddening, like you can't get any relief -- even if you take pain reliever or use other analgesics. Most people with a severe flu aren't exactly in the mood to be frisky, especially spontaneously. Many physically disabled people rely on preplanning. Having a date night where they can plan for extra pain reliever, or where they can schedule the rest of their day or week to conserve energy for a special night. The psychological energy that people need to conserve alone can take a lot of effort. Being disabled is also mentally exhausting, especially when you have a partner and their needs to consider. Giving a disabled person time to prepare for sex (or other tasks) is essential.

Related to that, is the fact the energy levels aren't always consistent. A disabled person and their lover could be going at it like rabbits for a while and then suddenly the disabled partner may need to stop because their "battery" (their physical energy levels) has run out. They may need a break for a few minutes, or they may just need to end the sexual encounter altogether.

The worst thing you (or your character) could do is take this personally. It has nothing to do with their partner, it's their body that is (frustratingly [on many levels]) not cooperating.

Something to toy with (no pun intended) when writing characters with energy level deficits is vibrators. Twice the work with half the effort. Don't be afraid to write smut with toys and vibrators -- it doesn't even have to be kinky. Toys and vibrators are normal and vanilla, all things considered. The only reason they haven't been normalized is because of patriarchal standards as to what sex is and is supposed to be.

The second thing to consider is physical limitations of positions and potential discomfort. I've seen several fanfic writers describe situations and positions that Viktor simply would never be able to do (e.g. lifting his partner onto a table or desk).

Viktor doesn't have a lot of strength. That's not to say he can't be rough or that all smut has to be vanilla. But realistically, it's absurd to think that he can lift someone else or manhandle them with any force, or thrust at the speed of light (💀). He also doesn't have any balance whatsoever post Act I. During Act I, he's able to hobble somewhat without his cane, as long as he has something to hold onto, as seen in episode three. But in Acts II and III, his balance issues combined with scoliosis would make any positions where he has to stand much more difficult.

Therefore, if you're wanting to write a scene somewhere outside of a bedroom (e.g. the lab, his office, etc.), he'd need something to balance himself. Seated sex is a great concept to play with -- very disability friendly and offers many options for all sorts of scenes. Desk/table sex is also realistic, as long as your character lifts themself onto the desk or table, and he's able to lean on it.

Scenes that take place in the bedroom also have their own limitations. He has zero use of his right leg, which means he'd need more time to get in and out of different positions. Missionary would take a toll on his back, I'd imagine, from being hunched over -- not that he couldn't do it at all, but that was more of a sidenote. Having your character straddle him, while his back was supported, is probably the most comfortable position I can imagine. Or spooning. Or maybe doggy, though I think his back and hips might get tired. But I'm just spit balling at this point. Utilizing objects from the setting is important -- pillows, having your character bent over the back of a couch, etc. This is where creativity comes in -- it's just important to keep in mind where his limitations are located on his body: his back and his leg/hip.

There are also adaptive devices for sex and disabilities.

One final thing I want to say is: don't overcorrect. This is common. It's one thing to keep a character's disability in mind, but it's another to make a disability the entire character. Just because Viktor is disabled doesn't mean he can't have the filthiest, most disgusting, raw, life changing, I-should-visit-a-confessional type of sex. However you headcanon him to be in bed is exactly how he can be. If you see him as a cruel Dom, he absolutely can slap the shit out of whoever has the pleasure of being beneath him, while he makes them beg for his mercy -- with his back and leg supported. If you see him as a bratty sub, he can be that, too -- while he lies there with a back pillow to relieve pressure off his spine. If he's the plainest, blander-than-vanilla type of lover, that's exactly what he is -- while he takes a few extra minutes to move from one position to the next. If he's any combination of those things, more power to you.

The point of writing a scene, is the point you're trying to make. Meaning: a lot of writers worry about conveying ideas and settings perfectly and with detail, while losing sight of the main point of their story. Rarely will you ever have to add paragraphs to a piece of writing in order to convey something, especially if it's not the main point. Often, it only takes one or two sentences. Keep the main point of the scene in mind. If you're writing a fic where Viktor and your character are secretly getting it on in the lab, then the point and the idea of that scene is the forbidden sex they are having. Not necessarily his limitations. You can easily acknowledge Viktor's disability by saying something like: 'Viktor sat on a chair at the far end of the lab, away from the door's line of sight. He leaned his back against the seat, allowing his spine to settle, before he coaxed his lover onto his lap. His lover straddled his legs, reaching to kiss his neck, while his hand trailed up their thighs...' You've successfully conveyed the limitations he has in two sentences, while maintaining the focus of your scene, and without reducing Viktor to a caricature of his disability. Less is more throughout your fic.

As a side note, which is completely my headcanon -- and something I've vaguely alluded to in my Viktor x Anya fics -- is that Viktor also has erectile dysfunction as a result of the PPS. Polio is a neurological virus, meaning is attacks the nerve cells, the main cause of the atrophy in PPS. It isn't common, but it's not uncommon for males with PPS to struggle with ED. As such, in my own personal stories, I have mentioned that Viktor takes medication to help with it. Sildenafil (the generic for Viagra) is a medication that specifically targets nerves.

That's my own person interpretation, though, and has no bearing on what we seen in Arcane lol.

To close this off for now, I want to reassure you that your efforts count and they matter. No one will write any depiction of disability 'perfectly'. Disability is unique to every person, and one person's spinal disability will look different to another's. Even people with the exact same diagnosis and prognosis will differ in how they experience it. You're not a dumbass. You're very intelligent to recognize the need for external resources. Enjoy yourself, enjoy the work you write, and keep asking questions.

If and when you decide to write your Viktor smut piece, I would love to read it. And likewise, if you'd like to read what I write I'd be happy to send it to you! If you're comfortable coming off anon, you can message me privately and we can talk more!

#viktor #viktor arcane #arcane #netflix arcane #viktor smut #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor x you #arcane smut #disability #disability advocacy #disability awareness #viktor the machine herald #viktor fanfic #viktor fic

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orpheus-lovett-thenardier · 7 months

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Alrighty screw it, here’s some neurodivergent & lgbtq+ headcanons of musical characters, as someone who’s both of those things

Disclaimer 1: Bigotry and dumbassery will not be tolerated.

Disclaimer 2: These are just my opinions, headcanons I made for fun. You don’t have to agree with them, and you’re free to have your own interpretations. Just be respectful.

• Enjolras is ace and on the aro spectrum. He’s never felt sexual attraction towards anyone, and he’s only ever been romantically attracted to Grantaire. (And France./j)

• Grantaire is gay, and very in love with Enjolras. I don’t think I need to explain any more than this, lol.

• Cosette is bi. She discovered this after realizing she had a small crush on Eponine as well as Marius.

• Marius is also bi.

• Eponine is ace demiromantic, and also nonbinary. (Specifically using she/they pronouns.) She could never understand how the people around them could fall in love so fast, and with people they hardly knew. She didn’t fall for Marius until they formed a close connection with him. Regarding gender, they’ve never felt like she wasn’t a girl, but they didn’t feel fully like one. She felt sort of like a girl, but also like something else. It took them a while to figure out what exactly it was because she never felt like a boy, they just only partially felt like a girl.

• Orpheus is autistic. His special interest is music, and he loves talking about it to anyone who will listen. (Usually it’s Eurydice or Hermes.) He fidgets and stims a lot, and is also very awkward and doesn’t quite understand social cues. He tries his best, but always finds himself accidentally making things weird. Sometimes he worries that Eurydice will stop loving him because of his autistic traits, but she assures him that she loves him for who he is. Also, he’s somewhere on the ace spectrum, though he doesn’t use any specific labels.

• Persephone is also autistic, though she is much better at masking it than Orpheus. She also has ADHD.

• I’m chill with many different interpretations of Sweeney, but I think it’s quite interesting to hc him as trans or nonbinary. (I mean, what cis person names themself Sweeney?/j) He was in the closet when he first started dating Lucy. He was terrified of coming out to her, but eventually did, and she was quite accepting. She was relieved that maybe this meant they didn’t have to keep their relationship secret, and this was also how she realized she was bi. He also came out to Mrs. Lovett at some point before being sent away, and she was also very accepting, and has proven more than once that she’s really good at using people’s chosen names, as it was really easy for her to start calling him Mr. Todd when he returned from Australia. (Also, Mr. T could be a very punny nickname in this case.)

• Sweeney is also autistic. He’s gotten decent at masking in public, but whenever he’s at home, he makes no effort to hide his autistic traits. He stims quite frequently, usually by aggressively shaking his hands, punching his arm, fidgeting, or pacing. (Is pacing considered a stim? I feel like I do that a lot as a stim, but idk.) He also has an incredibly strong sense of justice. This is most notable when it comes to himself and how he’s been wronged, but he also feels that way on a societal level too. He rants a lot about people who get mistreated and people who abuse their power. (Mrs. Lovett can attest to this, as she’s usually the one he rants to.) Prior to being sent away, he felt like Lucy was the only person he could truly be himself around. Post-incarceration, Mrs. Lovett ends up being the one to fill that role. At first he’s quite nervous, but he ends up opening up more, and realizes that she’s a safe person to be himself around. In fact, she’s the easiest person for him to be himself around, because she’s also neurodivergent.

• Speaking of which, I headcanon Mrs. Lovett as being autistic and having ADHD. She’s always got several different trains of thought, is all over the place, and though she’s chatty, she’s a bit awkward, and feels that Sweeney is the only one who truly understands her. She’s also had many special interests and hyperfixations throughout her life, and is known to infodump a lot. She stims by flapping her arms and doing little dances. She also has some vocal stims, like humming or singing random notes to herself.

• Mrs. Lovett is ace. For a long time, she never told anyone because she was terrified of being judged for it. She was also scared that no one would ever love her because of it, and though there was no way Benjamin could’ve known, she sometimes felt like maybe her asexuality was part of why he chose Lucy over her. In attempts to impress him years down the line, she’d sometimes act in ways that felt strange and uncomfortable to her. In order to make herself feel better about it, she’d tell herself that it was like a comedy act, and that it was more about being funny. (She’s also the type to be really good at making sex jokes because sex is a joke to her, although she doesn’t joke like that often. Her preferred sense of humor is puns.) After a while, feeling like she can no longer hide it, she finally comes out to Sweeney, and nearly breaks down crying while doing so, fearing that she’d ruined her chance at him ever loving her. To her surprise, he accepts her, and he comforts her until she calms down, letting her know that she never has to make herself uncomfortable for his sake.

• Toby is the kind of person whom people can’t tell if he’s gay or aroace. He can’t tell which one it is either.

• Tbh, every version of Wednesday Addams feels autistic coded to me, so I’m including musical Wednesday as well.

• Morticia Addams has bi wife energy. Gomez is her number one ally.

• Lydia Deetz is hella sapphic. The Maitlands are the first people she comes out to, and they’re extremely accepting. After a while of being nervous, she finally comes out to her father and Delia, and they also accept her. Delia isn’t super educated on everything, though she’s well-meaning, and she even buys a sapphic flag colored crystal for Lydia. Beetlejuice takes her to her first pride event. It’s chaotic for everybody there due to Beej’s presence, but it’s definitely a fun time for Lydia.

• I also headcanon Lydia as autistic. Her special interests are ghosts, horror, and photography, and she loves infodumping about them.

• Beetlejuice is pansexual. I suppose that one’s not really a headcanon and is actually a thing in the musical, but I still wanted to list it.

• Martha from The Secret Garden is ace and autistic. I mostly say this because I’ve played her once, lol. Idk, I just like the idea.

• Veronica Sawyer is the biggest disaster bi.

• Jo March is ace and on the aro spectrum. She doesn’t really care all that much about sex or romance, though she has occasionally felt romantic attraction. She doesn’t really care about gender when it comes to the people she likes, but she does also identify as sapphic because she really likes girls. (I mostly like the idea of her being sapphic because people suspect that Louisa May Alcott was, and she based Jo off of herself.)

• Christine Daaé doesn’t really use any labels, but she did once find herself crushing on both Raoul and Meg.

• Meg Giry is sapphic, which she realized after having a crush on Christine.

• Because of that one line in Driving Through the Moonlight, I have decided that Prince Topher is ace now.

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onewmin · 7 months

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the perfume on the shelf. pt. 12 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, Minors dni, smut, mentions of suggestive themes, an unhealthy amount of Taylor Swift references, another episode of dumbassery of these two clowns, profanity, some personal growth (i guess????); typos

Word count: around 7000 (im sorry 💀)

Author’s note: ugh, well... It is what it is. Hope you don't hate me <3 Enjoy the chapter! (this is NOT the end of the deries, btw) Tell me what you think! I'm always hoping for a feedback :)

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 11 | Part 13

“Do you like that?”

Nodding absentmindedly, Chan furrowed his brows at the shivering sensations of Micha bouncing up and down his cock. His fingers were leaving crescent marks on her hips; Chan hissed at her digging her nails in his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, he held onto her for dear life - just to get that final, luscious release he’s been craving lately.

Another moan left her lips as she sank down his length; Chan, on the other hand, was trying his best to ignore the sounds she’s been making. Because with every sigh of hers, with every whimper that left her mouth the only thing Chris could think about was you. The sounds you were making when in bed with him; the way your long nails dug in his shoulders when he would thrust into you as deeply as it was possible; your silky skin under his fingers when you’d cling onto him, coming back from your high. Every moan of Micha’s was replaced by your soft voice and fucked-out smile whenever he would caress you cheek.

Chan shook his head; and when he opened his eyes, you weren’t there. But Micha was. She was everything he could’ve ever asked for - however, she was still not enough. Her long blonde hair, styled differently every day, her toned body - as if she’d trained along with him; her sweet love and caring persona, their difference in height, her wearing the ‘feminine’ style Chan absolutely loved - all of it seems to be a dream come to true for him, right? She reasoned with him just the right amount - without turning it into a full-blown aggressive pillow fight; she was on board with giving him space, she was… Right for him. If ‘right’ meant being as unhappy as he was, he probably has made a wrong choice.

The water in the shower ran as Chan stood on the balcony of his apartment. Wearing nothing but his pajama pants, he shivered under a rather chilly early morning wind. 2 AM. Micha came over three hours ago, right after they left the club together. Endless partying, new people, bonding over alcohol and making fun of their exes, Chan felt a tingling in his chest every time his mind would wander to the thoughts of you. No amount of liquor could wash away the handprints you left on his soul; it seemed as though you traced your fingers all over his skin and all over his insides, his ribs, his heart.

Every time he brooded over the relationship you shared, Chan couldn’t come to a proper conclusion of what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to run after you, chase the dream of the woman he loved even after you threw him away? Well, it's the other way round, actually, but it didn’t really change much: you were far away physically now. Emotionally though, you’d been distant for way longer; was it his fault? It certainly was - it’s not like you were absolutely innocent in this mess, but less at fault than him. It took Chan several months and a new, rotting relationship to realize it.

Micha’s warm arms wrapped around his torso, pulling Chan from his endless reflection on the poor choices he’s ever made. “Let’s go to bed”, she murmured; her cheek was resting on his back, and Chan sighed, hands still gripping the railings.

“Micha”, he uttered, “d’you love me?”

She frowned. “We’ve only been back together four months. It’s too early to…Say something like that”.

Chan chuckled, gently getting her arms off his body. He sat down on the chair and continued staring at the city lights; no matter how much he loved Melbourne, it didn’t feel like home anymore. It seemed as an exile, a place he was sent off to reminisce about his past, perfect life. An exile without the love of his life.

“‘Cause I don’t think I do”, he muttered, chin resting on the palm of his hand. Micha sat down oppositely and took another hand of his in hers.

“Again, it’s been too little time”, to Chris, the softness in her voice sounded like poison - as if he’d willingly drank a bottle of toxins to erase the tiniest memory of the love he lost. “‘T’s too early to know for sure”.

“You think so?” He looked at her for the first time in the last few minutes. Micha nodded, giving him a small smile.

“We can still work it out”, she stood up and took a couple of steps to go back inside, “unless”, she stopped to turn her head to look at him, “it’s something that you want with me”.

Chan’s eyes darted from the balcony door to the city in desperate attempts of holding back tears; with her, with Micha? What does he even want from her? Chan has absolutely zero clue now. She’s a wonderful person, a beautiful woman, who seems to have affection towards him for some reason, and Chan? He only uses her to forget, to bury himself so deep in her that he wouldn’t have to maniacally think about the other woman. The other woman he pushed away himself when the only thing she wanted was to give him love he’s been craving for so long. The love from her he’s been praying for, the love he’s been suppressing even after finally having her. But did he really have her? Did he really get the girl he’d dreamed of? The only thing he did was raiding her most sacred temple with his barbaric hands, tearing down her shrines of love - only to kick her out of her own sanctuary. He left it with emptiness as well, bringing out nothing but the last pieces of adoration she had left for him. How cruel of him to only realize it now.

Does he have any choice to get through? Can he just show up at your doorstep, bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands? Will you accept his apologies? Will you take him back? That’s something he’s never tried; to apologize, to kneel in front of you, with a will to give you anything you ask for - just to get the slightest hint of forgiveness. Because if he spends another day with someone else sleeping next to him but you, Chan will go insane. It takes everything in him not to moan your name when making love to her; it takes everything not to call out your name when he comes home. The mere mirage of you follows him anywhere he goes, and it’s something he doesn’t want to fight anymore.

“Do you think about her?” Micha’s question hit him out of nowhere and Chan gulped, turning his face away from her. She sat up on the bed; her fingers touched his chin, bringing his gaze back to hers. “Don’t ignore me”.

Staring into the darkness, Chan let out a deep sigh, feeling helpless. “Does it matter?”

“It does. To me”. The slightest notes of hurt in her voice were hidden, but Chan was able to catch them; to realize Micha really started falling for him again, when he never reciprocated in the first place… Nothing. Chan didn’t feel the heavy weight of his consciousness dawn on him like it did before - nothing. Micha might’ve felt betrayed, but Chan couldn’t say he was able to care.

“I do. Satisfied?”

Micha sighed and looked away for a moment. “Why did you take me here then? Why not her? And cut the bullshit with the ‘fight’ you two had”, she interrupted him way before he was able to utter a word, “it could’ve been easily resolved in seconds”.

“‘Cause she’d never go”, Chan mumbled, “‘cause I’ve been an ass to her and she doesn’t trust me anymore”.

“But why would she never come with you?”

“Just ‘cause”, Chris shrugged his shoulders, “she’s not as spontaneous as you and I are”. Chan didn’t really want to discuss the perks of his relationship with Micha - she had a personal interest, after all. He turned to the right side, facing the open balcony; closing his eyes, he felt Micha’s arm wrap around his waist. Suppressing the desire to sigh, Chan let his body snuggle into hers, pressing his back to her chest; having at least some sort of comfort was not bad, after all.

“Did you dream about me?” A ticking whisper sent shivers down his spine; feeling your fingers run up and down his abs, Chris put on his best act not to show he was awake. Actually, he woke up ten minutes before you did - instead of getting up, he preferred to just lay there, your arms wrapped around his waist, fingers intertwined. But you, on the other hand… After whimpering and stretching, your hand was back on his body, whispering absolute atrocities in his ear.

“Was it a wet dream?” You said softly one more time before pinching skin on his forearm.

“Ouch!” Chris finally gave up on his act and turned to face you; knowing his revenge would’ve been instant, you already were out of the bed.

“I’ll hop in the shower!” Chan let out a laugh. You were not the one to indulge in morning sex easily - even though the two of you would do it sometimes, you whined about it almost all the time. You hated the morning breath, the afternight sweat, the tiredness, the timing. Morning sex wasn’t your cup of tea, but, God, you loved winding him up; sometimes Chan thought you enjoyed spilling dirty words more than the sex itself.

Chan trudged from your bedroom to the kitchen; several minutes later, when he was sipping on the orange juice, he felt your arms wrap around his waist. “Morning”, you said, your chin resting on Chan’s shoulder.

“Morning”, he responded, a smile creeping up his face. “You slept well?” You hummed in response and left a kiss on the back of his neck; turning around to face you, he only saw your back as you stared at the open fridge. Delving in your figure, Chan drew his lower lip between his teeth as he watched his shirt shamelessly lift and expose your ass when you stretched your arms. Chan took a small step to leave a loud smack on your butt; yelping, you were caught in his arms, as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

“You asked ‘bout my dream”, he rasped in your ear, pressing your body further into his, “still wanna know what it was?” His hand toyed with the hem of your shirt, fingers running down to your closeted core. You let out a gasp.

“Not really”, your quiet answer made him furrow his brows, “if you tell, it’s gonna result in sex. Don’t really wanna have it now”, you turned around and gave him a smile. “D’you wanna have eggs for breakfast?”

Sitting on the floor, another episode of a reality show running on the TV, Chan and you chewed on the omelets and tomatoes, a favorite breakfast of yours. When you commented on yet another thing on TV, Chan stole glances of you - just to catch every little thing about you that he could. The way your eyes were squinting when you grinned, how you talked back to the people on TV if they did something stupid, the way your head fell back when you were frustrated.

“What the hell is wrong with these people?” You whined, putting the dishes in the sink. “Like why would you even consider gettin’ married after a week of datin’?” You turned on the water - the cold one, presumably - and got the sponge wet. Chan clicked his tongue and almost sprinted from his place in front of the TV to the kitchen space, taking the sponge away from you.

“Stop”, he almost growled, “I know you hate washin’ the dishes”. He turned on the hot water as well. “Y’know, there’s also one more type of water except for the cold one”, his remark earned him a slight smack on the shoulder. The both of you laughed it off, as you wiped the dishes (another chore you preferred to ignore).

“Thanks”, you uttered when he was done. Chan returned the smile and put his hands on your waist as your arms were wrapped around his neck. “Maybe I should hire you to clean up?”

Chris chuckled. “My price is too high for you”.

“Huh?” Her eyes gleamed. “How much is it?”

Too high, Chan thought, peering into her hazel orbs, my price is you, my price is you loving me back. Instead of saying what was needed to be said a long time ago, he shook his head and left a small kiss on your forehead. “Nothin’, forget it”, he squeezed your waist. “I’m just lucky to have you”, he muttered, “as my best friend”. The latter wasn’t supposed to be said, but seeing your startled expression when he said the first part of his sentence, he realised you weren’t ready for his confession, it was too early. Maybe later, maybe some time after-

“Stop”, you mumbled. Chan’s brows knitted as took in the expression on your face; you stared right back into his eyes, an ocean flooding yours. “Stop it. You’re losin’ me. It’s too late”.

A sudden gasp woke Chan up; as he sat on the bed out of the habit rather than a reflex, he pressed his hand to his chest, trying to even his breath. A dream of one of your mornings together ending in this? That’s not what you said back then; Chan frowned, his fingers massaging his forehead, but your exact words couldn’t come to mind. That’s not what you said, he’s sure of it!

Burying his face in his hands, Chan took a deep breath and let it out. How come a dream of you turned into a nightmare? How come even in his dreams he has to see you cry? How come he can never find peace, not even asleep? How come you’re the only thing on his mind, even after all of these months?

“You’re okay?” Micha uttered. “What time is it?”

“Dunno”, Chan snarled, “go back to sleep”.

He stood up and walked to the living room - just to avoid Micha for a couple of minutes. He didn’t want to answer her questions nor wanted to speak at all - his mind wasn’t just there yet. As he sat on the couch, a phone in his hands, the time didn’t even surprise him - he slept only for two hours.

Scrolling down the news, his search brought him back to the fire that happened four months ago. Even after all this time Chan still couldn’t be at peace with the thought of you being with Yugyeom that night. It was him, Chan, who was supposed to be there, to help you, to save you, to comfort you - him, not Yugyeom! Why would he even show up again? Was he… No, Chan refused to believe that. Yet still, he blamed you for holding onto your first love - maybe he wasn’t wrong after all. Or perhaps, he should’ve given you the opportunity to explain everything? Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t have been as miserable as he was now. There would be no pain, no leading Micha on for something he couldn’t even give her, no exile.

What was it that you said in that dream? ‘You’re losing me, it’s too late’? But how can it be so? How?

“Not ‘you lost me’”, Chan murmured staring into the wall, “but ‘You’re losin’ me’”. What if he still has a chance to mend the two of you? What could stop him but his irritating pride?

Chris didn’t need much time to think about his next actions - so, in mere minutes he was browsing the airline website, getting the tickets on the nearest date - which convenietly happened to be today. If it doesn’t work out, his parents were in Seoul, Minho was there - so he would find a way to kill time before going back to Melbourne, right? Right?

Chan let out a sigh, leaning in the soft cushions. It feels like his last chance to chase the train that has just left the station. It left, but Chan is still running, he’s still screaming for it to stop ‘cause he’s sure he’ll get in. Maybe they just don’t hear him? Maybe they didn’t know he was late? They’d stop if they found that out, right? Right? Nevertheless, Chan’s still running, even if the train doesn’t want him to be its passenger.

Looking at the white ceiling, Chan questioned whether you’d want to see him. What if you slam the door right in front of him? “Whatever”, he turned on a random video on his phone, “I’ll get through. I know she feels the same way, I know it’s not gone. I know it”.

Micha was gone at 5 AM; as soon as the door was closed, Chan rushed to his closet to collect the best of his clothes, the ones you loved seeing him in, some new items he knew you’d steal from him - he wanted to look his absolute greatest in front of you. After all, the two of you didn't see each other for how long? Almost six months? More?

Chan wondered if you’d changed much, wondered if you’d kick him out or welcome him back with open arms. And as his suitcase was packed in less than twenty minutes, he sat back on the bed, staring at his phone. He booked the nearest flight - which was in two hours - and now was waiting for his cab. A whole ass journey from Melbourne to Sydney and from Sydney to Seoul – all for just an attempt at mending things. Perhaps, he should’ve done that earlier, so that he wouldn’t have to spend more than twelve hours on the road just for the possibility of having a crumb of your forgiveness. Although, was he even able to apologize?

Another flow of thoughts guided Chan through his first flight to Sydney; with a mask on his face and a cap on his head, Chris was almost unrecognizable. Besides, no one had the slightest idea of his whereabouts — just a few hours ago, while sitting at the airport, he posted a story of himself, marking Melbourne as the place where he was currently. No messages from Han or Felix or Micha; today was supposed to be his day off, so it was quite convenient no one had reached out to him. Yeah right. Why would they when the only thing he does is push everyone away? Felix, his childhood friend, even expressed to him he couldn’t recognise Chan anymore. Maybe it was for the best; after all, everyone grows up and changes their personality, right? “Nah, that’s not quite it”, Felix observed his friend’s face attentively, “it’s like you’re less…you. Feels as if something’s twisted your brain”. What would Felix know anyway, right? Right?

Three hours passed before his flight to Seoul took off; when taking his place near the plane window and putting his seatbelt on, Chan’s phone started buzzing. Oh shit, the manager-agent might be furious.

“Where are you?” Jisung’s voice was surprisingly calm.

“Where are you?” Chan responded. Attacking is the best form of defense, after all.

“I’m at your place”, he responded, “you didn't open the door, so I got in myself. You’re gonna be home soon?”

“Why?” Chris stared at another airplane in the distance. “Missing me already?”

Han clicked his tongue and let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re not my type, Bang”. After chewing on something - is this fucker eating my food? - he continued. “So, when are you coming back? I have a business proposal to discuss”.

“What’s that?”

Another sigh left Jisung’s mouth. “I hate when you do that”.

“To put it shortly, that LA label we’ve talked about a couple of weeks ago”, Han chewed on the food again, “they wanna meet up. If you ask me”, he kept on talking - leaving no chance for Chan to even utter a word, “I’d say we should go. Maybe you’ll be able to get out-” He stuttered for a moment. “I mean, you’ll have more opportunities. And a better contract, I presume. And less control”.

“When do they wanna meet up with us?” Chan twisted a ring on his finger absentmindedly.

“At the end of the week. Saturday afternoon”. Han plopped on the couch. “Tell me when you’re gonna be back and I’ll prepare a whole ass presentation for you”.

Now it was Chan’s turn to sigh. He’ll surely be back till Saturday, right? “Actually, Han, I-” His voice suddenly became small, weak even. Jisung will kill him if Chris misses this lifetime opportunity because of a girl. “I’m on the plane to Seoul”.

Silence. Chan couldn’t even hear the sound of Han’s breathing, the chewing abruptly stopped. The only thing Chris could feel was the wave of anxiety that was rising from his stomach up to his throat. Perhaps, he was making a huge mistake; his career was about to bloom on an absolutely different level and what was he doing? Running back to someone who couldn’t even unblock him to hear his side to all of it?

“I have no words, Chan”, Han’s voice had anything but the regular shrill tone to it. “After half a year you decided now was a good time to mend things?” Chris didn’t respond. Because he couldn’t; he didn’t even know what to say. “I appreciate your, um, your determination”, for some reason, Jisung was very careful with his words - or was he just being soft ‘cause it was a painful topic for his friend? “But the two of you haven’t even talked to each other for six months. You stalking her through my account doesn’t count”.

Jisung was a voice of reason; both of you didn’t even exchange a greeting in the past six months. Why did he think you’d be open to speaking to him? Why would you even open the door when you’d see his face? What if you and Yugyeom are already a couple? What if…

“I get your concerns, Han”, Chan spoke in a low voice, “trust me, I do. And I’ve had doubts too, but-” He chewed on his lower lip, “I have to try. Maybe that’s what she’s waiting for. Maybe she’s waiting for me to come back”.

Han huffed. “You’re a delusional idiot”. He drew in a breath. “Anyway, hope you mend whatever needs to be mended. Come back till Saturday”. Jisung was ready to hang up but continued. “Y’know, I get it. The love of my life did the same number on me as you did on her. And I was the one who waited for the… For the apology, a text, a letter - anything. Never received a word.” He chuckled. “Good luck, man”.

An elderly woman sat up next to him as Chan stared at the screen of his phone. Han was not the one to share the intimate details of his life; however, this felt more like a possible outcome rather than a warning. If everything works out in his favor, Chan will get the girl and a new career break. Everything seemed like his ideal world turned into reality. Well, the reality was not there yet; but Han didn’t call him delusional for nothing.

It was snowing heavily when Chan stepped out of the airport.

He jumped in the cab, rushing to his apartment; it was almost 8 PM, but he wanted to see you today. Having taken a quick shower and put on his sweater and jeans, Chan texted Minho. ‘Hey man, you’re at ur studio tonight?’

Lee Know responded almost immediately. ‘Hey, Hyunjin and I are having one more dance class before closing. Why’d you ask?’

‘Just ‘cause. Wanted to talk’. Chan typed.

‘Yeah, I’ll be free for around forty minutes then. I’m picking up Eunjoo after her art class’.

‘Is she going there alone?’

‘Stfu. It’s not Eunjoo you wanna know ‘bout’.

‘Man, please. Just tell me’.

Chan could physically feel Minho sigh, shake his head and then smack his shoulder. ‘Kay. She’s there too. They finish at 9, but they planned to wait for me at the coffee shop nearby’. He texted an address immediately.

‘Thank you, Minho’.

‘Fuck off, pls. I’m tired of watching this drama”.

“Hey, everything’s okay?” You asked Eunjoo as the two of you were sharing a late-evening dessert; the art class you’ve been attending lately was exciting, but exhausting at the same time. And after each class of painting and drawing, the two of you tended to get yourselves a nice little sugary treat.

She went silent for a moment as she looked at the message on her phone. “Yup, fine”, she gave you a small smile as she shoved her phone back in her purse, “Minho’s running a bit late”.

“Ah, I should’ve taken my car”, you leaned in the chair, “we would’ve been home already”.

“Don’t worry about it”, she took a bite of a pumpkin pie, “he promised to get us some junk food”. You put your chin on your hand and glanced at the ceiling dreamily; your desire to eat something greasy and fattening almost made you drool.

“How’s your training going?” Eunjoo took a sip of her tea.

“It’s good”, you nodded, “my new personal trainer is amazing. Did I tell you she’s a former stuntwoman?”

“No way!” Eunjoo’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Even though she looked happy, you couldn't help but notice that something's shifted after that text from Minho. Was she hiding something from you?

“Yeah, I was surprised too!” You continued. “Anyways… She put me on a pretty strict diet”. You sighed.

“By ‘strict’ you mean no McDonald’s?” Your friend laughed. You clicked your tongue and crossed your arms at your chest. “C’mon, it’s good for your health, you know it. Your internal organs have been begging for vegetables when you were feeding them french fries”.

“You’re insufferable”, you rolled your eyes. Eunjoo laughed at you one more time before letting out a breathy sigh.

“I can’t”, she uttered, “I can’t not tell you”.

“What d’you mean?” You took notice of her fidgeting in her seat and twisting her earrings nervously, as she always did when filled with doubt and anxiety.

“Chan’s here”, she said in a low voice, “and he’s coming to the cafe to see you”.

You felt your temples pulsating instantly - the first sign of a headache creeping in. The mere mention of his name brought you a whirlpool of jitteriness - your heart was still not at its place when you thought of him. But it was more of a… It was more because of painful memories of what could’ve been, of what should've been there if the two of you weren’t absolute assholes to each other. However, now, no matter how much you didn’t want to see him, no matter how much you distanced yourself from even thinking of him as often as you used to, he decided to impose himself on your almost stable state of mind. It’s his signature mark - to take away the opportunity to heal and speak from you. You’re almost healed. You’re almost fine. You’re going on dates, seeing new people, hanging out with Yugyeom without feeling guilty about it. You have a new life. You’re almost at the top without him, and he wants to see you? To speak?

“If you wanna run away, I won’t tell him”, she whispered, covering your hand with the palm of hers, “I don’t want you to see him either”.

It’s a whirlwind of events. One moment you’re sitting in your favourite cafe with your favourite person, and now you’re putting your coat on, grabbing your purse and almost flying from that same cafe just to escape the inevitable? As the door behind you close, you stop yourself from moving.

Yeah, seeing him will be hurtful, there’s no doubt in it. His silky voice and empty promises might lead you astray, sweeping all of your healing under the rug. Guess, his soft hands, intertwined with yours, might make you reconsider moving on. His curly hair and sweet smile might make you forget every small step you’ve taken to get over him in the past six months. It might happen, you were sure; but you were not a coward anymore. At least, you tried to be braver, bolder in your decisions; so you were not going to run away just because it might hurt you. You’d let it do so. You’d allow all of it to hurt you but only if it meant that this would be the last time it brought you pain.

So you took the straps of your purse in your hands, fingers clutching them. You walked a bit further, into the alley in front of the cafe and sat down on the snowy bench. The air was cold; you regretted not wearing a winter hat. You wrapped your scarf around your neck twice to create a feeling of warmness, only foaming your glasses instead. The snow was slowly falling on your hair, claiming you as one of its many winter princesses. You hated this season and this weather, and you hated being born in winter too - but tonight felt almost magical. Maybe it was because of your final acceptance of this mess, of your desire to endure as much pain now as you could to never feel it again; you felt a foreign tingling of relief in your chest. Maybe you will finally be free after tonight.

Your phone started buzzing out of nowhere; declining the caller through your smartwatch three times, you still had to pick up because he was simply irritating you. “What?” You almost barked at him.

“Hey, when’s your next date with this accountant guy?” Yugyeom sounded absolutely monotonous asking the question - as if you hadn’t just declined him three times in a row.

“The next date?” You were flabbergasted. “On Monday. Why?”

“D’you wanna set him up with this girl I’m seeing? I can’t do it anymore”.

“The PhD student girl? Why? Is she also only talking about her ex-boyfriend all the time?” He responded affirmatively; the accountant guy you were casually meeting up with was clearly not over his ex, as he kept on speaking about her with you. It was tiring, but you couldn’t brush him off for some reason; so Yugyeom’s plan might really help set you free.

And no matter how nervous you were, this conversation seemed to help you release some of the stress. Yugyeom and his brilliant ideas always helped. “What d’you wanna do?” You asked while leaning your head to the side; for some reason, the idea to squeeze the phone between the shoulder and your head wasn’t successful as the phone slipped and fell to the snowy ground. “Ah, shit”, you mumbled. “Gyeom, wait!” You said loudly, leaning forward and taking it back in your hands. “Thank God you’re working”, you muttered. The speaker turned on while it fell down but to Yugyeom, who had no idea, it didn’t matter as he proceeded to blabber on about his evil plan.

“We could hug a bit longer than needed”, he kept on as you tried to turn the speaker off, “maybe flirt with each other?” You could almost see him scratching his chin. Yeah, your phone was working, but the speaker wouldn’t turn off; it happened quite often lately, and you were sure it was the result of your phone being dropped too much in the course of two years of having it.

“In what way?” You uttered, simultaneously googling how to fix this random speaker problem.

“I don’t know”, he said sluggishly, “but I have an idea. I could just be like”, he cleared his throat, “you’re so sexy, babygirl. So sad you have a boyfriend. Wish you were mine”. His pretend husky voice could be just perfect if he didn’t let out a mewling sound at the end of the tirade. You giggled at his attempts to sound super masculine.

“But no kissing”, he warned.

You huffed. “Ew. As if”.

And as you wanted to add another word to the conversation, you saw something in the corner of your eye. Turning your head to the side, your gaze caught the bouquet of pink roses on the bench next to you. “Gyeom, I’ll call you back”. Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jeans, you stood up and turned around, only to see a painfully familiar figure slowly walk away.

“Chan?” He stopped in an instant. Your heart skipped a beat. No way it’s him. No way.

Having turned to face you, he gave you a lopsided grin almost immediately. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation with your boyfriend”.

“He’s not my-” You almost indulged in. Stopping yourself at the start of giving another set of excuses to him, you quickly ran through his previous sentence. The same poisonous tone of the voice, same spiteful expression worn on his face. It's been six months since the last time you saw him, and he still was angry with you. He still despised you.

“You didn’t come here to fight again, did you?” The tone of your voice suddenly obtained the notes of tiredness in it. If the only reason why he’s here is to quarrel with you all over again, all over the same shit - you were not going to stand and listen.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m here”, he responded, arms crossed at his chest. “Thought we could mend things, but you clearly don’t need that”.

“How would you know?” You clenched your fists as you tried to calm yourself down; but the feeling of your nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms instantly flashed a memory of your last fight in your head. How you dug your nails deeper in your skin, leaving crescent marks, bleeding in front of him, swallowing his insults and hurtful words. You were not going to do it anymore. “How would you know?” You repeated the question louder. “”Cause you heard a piece of what you were not supposed to hear and drew a conclusion, based on something insignificant?”

“How else d’you want me to understand this?” He threw a hand in the air, pointing at you.

“How ‘bout fuckin’ askin’ me before jumping to conclusions?” Your voice was calm, you were collected. Last time your whole body was filled with anger and frustration, with pain you wanted to inflict on him. At the moment the only thing you wanted was peace.

“Askin’ you?” He chuckled. “Will you tell me the truth?”

“Chan”, you stated as softly as possible, “I don’t owe you the truth. As much as you don’t owe it to me”.

“Why am I even here then”, he mumbled, closing his eyes and sighing. “You clearly have moved on, so you don’t need my apologies”.

“Are they sincere?” You walked straight to him, only stopping when there were a few steps between. And before you could utter a word, the sudden flashback hit you back to six months ago, to a year ago even. The smell surrounding him was the perfume of yours he loved so much. He put it on before meeting up with you? What for? To make you nostalgic? To make you feel guilty? To make you think about the times he’d drag you to his bedroom just because you were wearing this same perfume? What for?

“Have I ever not been?”

You cleared your throat before continuing. “So, you know what you’re apologizing for? You’re really sorry? Is that what you wanna tell me?”

“Yeah”, Chan managed to muster; he felt absolutely dumb. His initial idea to beg for your forgiveness washed into thin air when he heard you speaking to Yugyeom. You sounded so happy and clearly in love that he couldn’t bear the thought of apologizing anymore. But… It still felt important to be said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve given you, us, a chance to talk it out. I’m sorry I’ve been harsh to you”. He drew in a breath and looked away before continuing. “And I’m sorry for not… For not tellin’ you how I felt earlier”.

It was important to be said, but Chan couldn’t feel the weight of guilt falling off his shoulders. It still felt the same; same heavy trail of pain following every word of his, same difficulty to breathe whenever he had to utter apologies. None of it seemed genuine even to him, and you, of all people, will never accept this bullsh-

“Okay”, you breathed out.

Chan frowned for a moment. “Okay? We’re okay?”

“Okay”, you repeated, lifting your head a little bit in a desperate attempt to prevent the tears falling from your eyes, “thank you for sayin’ this. I appreciate your honesty”. You drew in a breath again, fingers toying with the strands of your bag. “I’m sorry for puttin’ all of the blame on you - I was in the wrong too. I should’ve told you I loved you long before it all blew up”.

Chan almost brushed your apologies off - he didn’t need them. He didn’t blame you for not telling about your feelings sooner. “So… We’re cool now?” The hope in his voice broke your heart; he certainly wanted to go back together, start over, get past this mess. And it broke your heart even more, because you knew exactly what you were going to say next.

“But I don’t forgive you”, you looked him right in the eyes, “I can’t forgive you. Not now”.

“When then?” His voice was quiet, no daggers in it yet. His peachy curls, covered in snow, fell on his forehead, covering his brows. The hair color suited him; you wished you could put the distance between the two of you to nothing and bury your hands in the softness of his hair, inhaling his scent mixed with your perfume. You wished you could feel his arms wrap around you, surrounding you with warmness and safety you used to feel around him. You wished to go back to a sunlit bedroom in his apartment when the two of you were tangled in silk sheets, velvety lips leaving gentle kisses all over your body. You wished but you couldn’t. You weren’t able to.

“When we both heal”, you blinked several times in a row, “when we’re not sick anymore. When I don’t hate the mere idea of being with you again. When I don’t cry ‘cause I miss something that was never there”.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes glued to his shoes. “Do you hate me?” He mumbled.

“Not you”, you answered softly, “the idea I had of you in my mind. The real you has nothing to do with the guy I created in my head”.

“Can’t we at least be friends?”

“No”. You swallowed a lump in your throat, feeling it dissolve in your chest. “I’m tired of being ignored, tired of never being the first choice, tired of you not even-” You sighed deeply. “You can’t make our friendship public, can you? I mean, you obviously can, ‘cause you’ve posted about your childhood girl friend all over social media," you added, “but not with me. It’s impossible when it’s me for some reason”.

He murmured your name, taking a small step further. “You know you’re the most-” He gulped. “You’re my best friend, my soulmate. I just-”

“You don’t have to give excuses anymore, Chan”, you felt tranquility flow through your body, “I don’t ask you to. We’re too far gone to be back”. You put your hands in the pockets of your coat and sighed again. “I wouldn’t date me either, y’know. I’m not in the right mental state to be a healthy and stable partner, I’m aware of that. And I can’t forgive you until you realize you’re the same”.

Tired of bleeding, tired of fighting for something that was never there for you to hold onto, you finally felt the sensation of being relieved. If you engaged in, if you fell back into the trap of the idea of being loved by Chan, you would have to collect the pieces of yourself all over again. You’ve put too much effort into building yourself back that going back to looking at someone with storms in your eyes just because he wrote a song about his ex while being with you seemed destructive. The ruins of you that he left now were turned into a sad song about you that he released a couple of months ago; and you were more than a sad song. He wrote nothing about choosing not to risk his perfect image when you asked him to hold you hand in the street - ‘cause that would’ve brought attention to him, right? It’s always been him, him, him and never you, not even once.

“It’s good that you came here”, you gave him a small smile, “means we’re both growing”.

No more biting your nails, no more scratching your skin till it’s red and bleeding. You can finally go on, even without forgiving him. It’ll happen later, you guess, maybe tomorrow, maybe a year later. But what you did know for sure was that your love was not dying anymore; you sowed some seeds of hope and affection in your heart once again. But this time you were willing to grow a new kind of love - the love no one else but you could give to yourself.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf @tenshimara @whyyougottadothatbro

The story's masterlist <3

#bang chan #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #bang chan x oc #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bangchan #bangchan imagine #bangchan imagines #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #kim yugyeom imagines #kim yugyeom imagine

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xalygatorx · 5 months

Text

Worthy (2015) | Prologue (0.5), "From the Desk of Director Nick Fury"

Worthy is a slow-burn SFW Marvelverse (films) romance between Loki and a female OC that spans the timeline of the mentioned films in the disclaimer section below. I got to connect some loose ends for myself that I noticed in the films and I hope that they're just as enjoyable for you to revisit as they were for me at the time of writing this and now, reposting it. (Fluff and angst within with a confirmed happy ending.)

Disclaimers: This is a previously completed and posted story from the Marvelverse films and includes canon from any and all films prior to (and not including) Avengers: Age of Ultron. It focuses most on Thor, Avengers, and Thor: The Dark World.

Following events of these films, we're in full headcanon territory, in part because the films that bust apart the later HC (Infinity War and Thor: Ragnarök) hadn't happened yet when I wrote this. The events of Agents of SHIELD are also not accounted for in this timeline despite the show airing during this time (I just didn't watch it).

I haven't posted anything like this in a while and even though this one is already done and just being resurrected on a new blog, I am nervous, besties.

Chapter Summary: Official documentation from Director Nick Fury discussing the first test run of the Avengers Initiative: a containment mission referenced only, mysteriously, as Subject “Camo.”

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 139

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

All participants in Agent Coulson's response team to the recent collection operation "Camo" developments are ordered to call off their attempts. Any continued research will continue as planned. All physical attempts to contact and/or contain the subject will be deemed reckless and will result in suspension and whatever injuries your dumbassery earned you. Subject "Camo" will hereby be instated as a test operation of fluidity for Project "Avengers Initiative" and is no longer the direct assignment of this division. The subject has proved too dangerous and/or unstable for us to handle alone. This, of course, excludes you, Agent Barton. Congratulations. You made the team. Bring more arrows this time.

Nicholas Fury

NICHOLAS FURY

Director of Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division (S.H.I.E.L.D.) Washington, D.C.

Next chapter: Chapter 1, "Subject Camo"

#loki laufeyson #loki x fem!oc #loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #thor odinson #thor movies #thor the dark world #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #angst with a happy ending #slow burn

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oh-snapperss · 5 months

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i was tempted to post the whole fic here but here's a section from your work, "ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece":

""I have twenty-two minutes left," Skizz says, as if he were merely telling Etho what time of day it was, or that the chickens were all loose in the base again, or even that Impulse had fallen asleep on the stairs again, and don't wake him up! "And this is my final order."

Skizz fixes Etho with a look, right in the eye, one that Etho knows he'll never escape. The ticking still doesn't stop. "My time will not go to anybody else. TIES gets to final three."

Etho's grip around the axe tightens, but– he turns to face Tango and Impulse. “Tango, you don't– you don't want it?” Please take it. Please. But Tango is shaking his head, resolute. "You need it most, dude."

Skizz turns, and kneels, his face turned to the ground in acceptance. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The axe swings upward, poised in the air above Skizz's neck, and the night falls silent, the air static with energy Etho can't quite place.

(There are Eyes w̸̜̼͗͝͝a̴̦͓̻̋̂t̷̤̰̞́͠c̵̠̯̩͌h̷̫̰̏i̸̱̙̻̊̋͑ň̷̙̠g̵̫̱̊.)

For a moment, the axe hangs there, held up by invisible strands that Etho swears are pulling the axe away from Skizz's neck, tightening by the moment as if to stop him from doing the very thing he knows he'll do at any moment. The axe drops towards Skizz's neck, falters, and pulls back up again before Etho can force his body to go through with it. He grits his teeth, forces his eyes to stay open–to aim. Readjusting his grip, Etho takes one deep breath. Then two. He's wasting his time and he's not even sure why. It's not like he's never killed before, or even used an axe to do it.

“Etho....?”

He doesn't even know who said it.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

(Somewhere in another game, Tango tells Bdubs: He's a survivor, man, that's what he does.)

Etho swings.

Heat travels through his body, up through his hands and arms and then the rest of him. It's so much that he thinks he might explode, or maybe he just has. The world is silent, save for the ringing in his ears, and a thousand years have passed in the agony that tears through him. The entire world is white and gone and it's too much, enough he’s sure he’s going to die with Skizz."

i can't get that phrase out of my head, of "static energy". your writing is wild man, absolutely one of my fav life series authors :] -vm

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA no i'm so glad you asked about this passage OMGGG

link to the fic this section is from

send me a passage of a fic i've written and i'll give detailed commentary on it!

god. okay so this scene was definitely one of the harder things I've written in the year or so I've done fic--I wanna say I actually rewrote this entire part... three, four, five times? I was struggling to find the right way of describing being hit by lightning because. well. I hadn't been hit by lightning so I didn't really know how to write it!

and them a miracle occurred by my own dumbassery and i accidentally electrocuted myself three times in one night with an outlet and that gave me a starting point! ((disclaimer DO NOT DO THIS))

Anyways, my thinking for this paragraph! I really wanted to have the memories of a slightly domestic life within TIES flashing through Etho's mind. I like to think about TIES as fiercely loyal to each other, like some type of almost family. Not like... family family, but you get what I mean. Having that section, that little glimpse into what living in denial about their time running out was something I think added to the overall horror of this chapter.

Skizz fixes Etho with a look, right in the eye, one that Etho knows he'll never escape. The ticking still doesn't stop. "My time will not go to anybody else. TIES gets to final three." Etho's grip around the axe tightens, but– he turns to face Tango and Impulse. “Tango, you don't– you don't want it?” Please take it. Please. But Tango is shaking his head, resolute. "You need it most, dude."

This part was less me and more the actual dialogue of what happened. I must have rewatched that scene from Etho's pov a good thirty times just trying to peruse what I wanted to keep, edit, or add to this scene. The only thing I really, really needed to convey throughout this entire time was the time ticking away and away, because I think as the end approached in LimL, that was something every player came to notice constantly. Tick, tick, tick, tick. That little rhythm, a reminder that their time was fading. A reminder it wasn't too late.

The other thing I think is worth noting about the ticking in this fic--I don't know if you ever heard or watched Unus Annus, but I was a day one watcher of that channel and the first thing I thought of when I saw the concept of LimL was that goddamn ticking clock they had at the start of their videos, counting down. It really affected how I watched the entire series and I wanted that tick tick tick tick to carry through in this.

(i'm gonna put the rest under a read more!)

Skizz turns, and kneels, his face turned to the ground in acceptance. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. The axe swings upward, poised in the air above Skizz's neck, and the night falls silent, the air static with energy Etho can't quite place. (There are Eyes w̸̜̼͗͝͝a̴̦͓̻̋̂t̷̤̰̞́͠c̵̠̯̩͌h̷̫̰̏i̸̱̙̻̊̋͑ň̷̙̠g̵̫̱̊.)

Once again, a combination of canon and the tick rhythm.

"Static with energy Etho can't quite place." THIS line right here was where I first started trying to carry in the same feelings as one might have felt when reading The Stories We Tell and the Truths Untold. Being set in the same series, if you've read both fics than you'll know that Etho and the Watchers have just a slight history. My goal here was to carry across that weird energy Etho felt back with Team Canada in this fic. And, if the reader had NOT read the Team Canada fic, which I assumed would be the case since Ethubs is such a more popular thing than Team Canada, they could interpret it as the energy of four men on a platform--two about to watch their best friend die, one about to kill his friend, and the fourth knowing his end is here.

And then the final line with the Watching!! Once again, a throwback to the Team Canada fic, where I not only had used this type of text for the watchers throughout, but had also increased how corrupted the word "watching" was as the fic progressed and Etho got more freaked out.

eeeheheehhehehehe this is literally just building up tension for the most part--racing thoughts, the ticking ongoing, Etho hesitating to do it, which is where the fic differentiates from canon.

“Etho....?” He doesn't even know who said it. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. (Somewhere in another game, Tango tells Bdubs: He's a survivor, man, that's what he does.) Etho swings.

Yeah. yeah... this line. I think the throwback to the Line was important to Etho's character and the study through the rest of the fic. He's a survivor. I'll be interested to see if that continues in Secret Life, because...he's actually been so out of character I could see him not choosing himself in the end. Just once. I dunno! I could be SO wrong. But so much of this fic revolves around Etho and his need to survive vs. the love he has for his friends...I think this sets the stage for the internal conflict coming.

Just as the axe connects with Skizz's neck, thunder cracks overhead, so loud the crack shatters through his bones and shakes the platform. The lightning hits Skizz in the same second, blinding white and in arcs of electricity that dance down Skizz's body, down through his hair and neck, and then up the axe still moving into his neck. It's too late to stop the connection, too fast to stop the lightning from dancing its way up the blade and handle. Instead, it's as if Etho is frozen, mesmerized by the tendrils of pure energy that arc around his hands, before connecting, and– Heat travels through his body, up through his hands and arms and then the rest of him. It's so much that he thinks he might explode, or maybe he just has. The world is silent, save for the ringing in his ears, and a thousand years have passed in the agony that tears through him. The entire world is white and gone and it's too much, enough he’s sure he’s going to die with Skizz."

If you've ever wondered what this sounded like in my head... it sounded like this. I don't know how to explain that most of this section was inspired by a fucking Spiderverse track, but here we are. So much of the build-up and the actual strike was this. If you listen to the song, it builds up and up for the first 34 seconds, and then it stops, and then just. GOES and that's the moment I felt like the axe dropped and the lightning struck, in those moments after. I know that probably sounds like . laurie what the fuck is wrong with you. but the vast majority of my fics are written with song inspiration and soundtrack in mind, and music helps me visualize things such as this i could NEVER write otherwise. If you don't listen to soundtrack or instrumentals, I highly recommend it for writing!

Thanks so much for the section!!! I hope this all makes sense:]

#laurie thoughts #anon #fic segment commentary #etho

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veryace-ficrecs · 1 year

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Social Media Fic Recs

One of my guiltiest and pickiest pleasures in fic are twitter fics! This list is made up of some of my favorite in the category, including socials other then twitter.

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

The Martian:

The Mark Watney Report by AsperJasper - Rated G

Space Pirate-Ninja @MarkWatney nasa must agree with me if they only censored my f*uck a little bit last time i tried to swear at martinez they replaced it with an emoji

Space Pirate-Ninja @MarkWatney this is what power feels like: making some poor person at nasa decide which curse words are appropriate to be tweeted out over work wifi

You Know You Have a Permanent Piece of My Medium-Sized American Heart by tricatular - Rated T

“Hey Hermes!” The ambient suspicion level in the Rec ratcheted up significantly. Kapoor was disturbingly cheerful. “We’ve sent you some mission updates in the data dump, but Mitch and I wanted to personally let you know—” Mitch visibly rolled his eyes in the background. “—That thanks to some…strong suggestions from the White House, and on Annie and Director Sanders’ recommendation, we’ve started releasing Watney’s Mars logs to the public.”

Marvel:

Caption That by maddo - Rated T

Peter’s Instagram had been pretty popular since Instagram’s account noticed and reposted one of his photos, an impossible angle of the New York skyline (thank you Spider-Man) and was floating at around twenty thousand followers.

Then suddenly, @pparker was in the top 100 most followed Instagram accounts.

Just a bunch of little anecdotes regarding our favourite spider and his Instagram account, feat. a meme-tastic Tony Stark.

The Life of Spidey (As Seen Through A Spider-Man Fan Account) by hi_im_jared_19 - Rated T

Spidey-is-a-disaster @chaoticgoodboy

Disclaimer: I appreciate Spidey stepping up to help others. If more people acted like him, the world would be a better place. He is undeniably a good person. That being said, he is an entire human disaster, and I’m here to prove it.

Spider-Man's rise to popularity through the lens of a random twitter account dedicated to his dumbassery.

the conspiracy kids by tempestaurora - Rated T

Series: 3 Works

in which peter, harley and ned ask the all-important question: WHO IS SPIDER-MAN?

one mask at a time by natelette - Rated T

Spider-Man is unmasked, and the world reacts.

Or how Peter, the internet, and the entire world deal in the wake of Mysterio’s video. Spoilers for Far From Home.

DC:

The True Identity: Bruce Wayne by November_Clouds - Rated G

makayla | sc mkyla457 @mkyla456 lmao watch him go off [attached: Video of Bruce Wayne in business casual clothes screaming as he charges towards The Penguin brandishing a long black pipe. Behind him is the main center for the Martha Wayne Foundation, front windows shattered and reception desk on fire. The Penguin looks Scared.]

After a tweet goes viral, people think they've finally figured it out. The real identity of Bruce Wayne.

Red Hood.

(social media fic, based off that tumblr post)

Gotham Online by julidoesnotwrite (notjuli) - Rated T

The Waynes and the Bats as seen through social media.

gotham : a conspiracy thread by noahfense (orphan_account) - Rated T

ti(i wanna die)m @nightwingsass

the real reason Batman hasn’t responded to my conspiracy thread is because he’s jared,19,

in a world where Jason Todd didn't die and Tim Drake has parents that actually care about his wellbeing, Tim runs a popular batfam stan account and his followers convince him to start a YouTube channel.

Yuri on Ice:

Night is Young and the Music's High by opalish - Rated T

"Best press conference ever," the Japanese Nationals silver medalist says when asked. “Ten out of ten, would medal again.”

"I would die for Katsuki-kun," Minami declares, with terrifying sincerity.

On ICE!!! by Watermelonsmellinfellon - Rated M

The first time Katsuki Yuuri saw Victor Nikiforov perform, he realized he had a great desire to see figure skating in a video game. In fifteen years, his dream is realized. Little does he know that Victor's attention has been caught by the very game he unknowingly inspired. So ensues the cutest meeting ever and the relationship that follows.

Love Born in the Eye of the Storm by ScribblerQueen1 - Rated T

After a snowstorm cancels their return flight and all the hotels are overbooked, Yuuri decides to detour home to wait it out. He offers to let other stranded skaters stay at Yuu-topia, he just didn't know one of them was Victor Nikiforov.

(i'm) the boy you'd die for by jenmishe - Rated T

v-nikiforov ✓

[Video: A short clip where Victor is laying dramatically on the couch with miserable expression. “Heartbreaker” by Marina and the Diamonds is playing.]

13,481 likes

v-nikiforov✓ Am I the another one? (((

vitYASS victor,,,, honey,,,, i lvoe you so much,,,, but WHY are you like this.

red-blue-gay but??? does that mean that somebody has broken victor’s heart???? I DON'T UNDERSTAND

christophe-gc ✓ You’re ridiculous.

starsaregay But who recorded it?? Makkachin???

vityathebabe user @starsaregay asking the real question.

--- The adventures of Yuuri "Heartbreaker" Katsuki, or: how Yuuri became known as a cold player full of himself who doesn't care about anyone. (Hint: it's an anxiety and obliviousness.)

Haikyuu:

Framing by Fayah - Rated M

At age 22, Kozume Kenma had millions of subscribers on youtube, one blissfully fucked out Hinata Shouyou on his bed, and a plan.

conflict of interest by zukushou -Rated T

“If you are familiar with the world of D-1 volleyball, chances are you’ve heard the names Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio. Both twenty-four-year-old athletes are famous for their skill and athletic prowess, but they’ve recently become household names for their intense rivalry.

Early this year, Hinata Shouyou signed onto the MSBY Black Jackals as a wing spiker after a two-year stint in Brazil, playing beach volleyball. He was an unknown in the V-League, but he quickly proved himself with his defensive skill and incredible jumping height and speed.

It wasn’t until the fateful Schweiden Adlers vs. MSBY Black Jackals match just yesterday that viewers came to the realization that Hinata Shouyou was the long-awaited rival of Kageyama Tobio.”

Kageyama and Hinata are married. The press seem to think that they’re hostile rivals who despise each other.

On Great Rivalries and General Dumbassery by NocturnalNights - Rated G

It's not exactly that they were hiding the fact that they had been married for about 7 years now. It's that no one seemed to have caught on yet.

Or: Kageyama and Hinata may have forgotten to mention one very important part of their rivalry.

Good Omens:

it's a new craze by attheborder - Rated T

CROWLEY: I try not to make a habit of gratitude, but I must give our appreciation to everyone out there who’s been listening and subscribing to The Ineffable Plan. AZIRAPHALE: Ooh, yes, we’ve become quite popular, haven’t we? CROWLEY: Yeah, just hit number eight on the advice charts … No advertising at all. AZIRAPHALE: Mm. How … miraculous. CROWLEY: … Aziraphale. You did not.

***

Crowley and Aziraphale are very possibly the people least qualified, on the entire planet, to start up an advice podcast.

But what else is there to do when the world isn’t ending anytime soon, you’re technically on indefinite sabbatical from your lifelong careers, and you need a plausible excuse to spend more time with your best friend who you’re definitely not, absolutely not, maybe just a little, actually maybe overwhelmingly in love with?

hear that bell ringing (but won't get the door) by Rivran - Rated T

Social media: 1 Aziraphale and Crowley: 0.

These could all be read standalone, but it’s better if you read them in order. No, yeah, you should definitely read these in order. Each story features Aziraphale and Crowley, with a supporting cast of human characters for that sweet sweet outsider POV.

It (movies):

Retweet Verse by plinys - Rated T

Series: 12 works

A collection of post-It Ch2 fics that are a mix of domestic Richie/Eddie and social media interactions from all the Losers.

Buzzfeed Presents: 10 Times Richie and Eddie Tozier were Very, Very Married by kyaticlikestea - Rated T

Stanley Uris @surisaccounting I was going through my most recent photos and came across this nice one of @richietozier and @etozier at their wedding last week. Congratulations to the happy couple. They’ve never looked better. [attached image is a photo of two penguins arguing]

Richie ‘My Husband is Also A’ Tozier ✔ @richietozier replying to @surisaccounting Hey @surisaccounting take down that tweet or I’ll keep doing this [attached image is a photo of a Common Potoo, which has been incorrectly labelled ‘Crow’ in Comic Sans font]

Buzzfeed makes a list of all the times Richie and Eddie Tozier, beloved husbands of the Internet, were incredibly married. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it isn't a short list.

Nicest Celebrity You've Ever Met? by atomicteaparty - Rated G

Richie Tozier is a loudmouth guy who can’t be kept down by any woman at all! He’s a party animal who’s constantly meeting new people and living up the party lifestyle… or at least, that’s what his onstage persona is.

What if people who’ve met him realize he isn’t the same guy in real life?

Or: Some people talk about how Richie Tozier surprised them on reddit

14 Reasons Why Richie Tozier and His Husband Are #relationshipgoals by robin_hoods - Rated M

Get yourself a man who looks at you like Richie Tozier looks at Eddie.

areas of expertise by dudski - Rated T

The Exoneration of Richie Tozier by Blissymbolics - Rated T

COMEDIAN RICHIE TOZIER VOLUNTARILY CONFESSES TO STRIKING AND KILLING AN ESCAPED CONVICT IN WHAT MAINE AUTHORITIES ARE CALLING A JUSTIFIED HOMICIDE IN DEFENSE OF ANOTHER

Tozier reportedly struck the assailant on the back of the head with a blunt object in defense of his childhood friend, Michael Hanlon, a librarian who lives in Tozier's hometown of Derry, Maine.

I killed a clown. AMA! by liesmyth - Rated T

I (39M) got stabbed twice today and now I want a divorce. Help?

Or: the one where Eddie is on Reddit.

October 14, 2016.

@PuzzleStan is:

-A puzzle enthusiast named Stan (44%, 3553 votes) -An anonymous stan of puzzles (44%, 3602 votes) -A puzzle enthusiast named Stan who is leaning into the wordplay (12%, 969 votes)

Misc - For Fandoms with only one fic:

#thatjacksonkid by The_German_Grim_Reaper - Rated G

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Following an episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved, several twitter users do their best to uncover the truth about Percy Jackson. They get surprisingly far.

Mr LAFD Updates Man by hammersmiths - Rated T

Fandom: 9-1-1

Series: 2 works

Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.

Audience: 822,000 and Homeland Security by WerewolvesAreReal - Rated G

Fandom: Leverage

Hardison starts a live-stream for Dragon Age to show off his new mods. And he kicks ass. But his viewers are actually a bit more concerned about the angry guy in the background of his videos, and the blond chick who keeps peering through his windows.

"Is this some kind of performance art," asks peskytroll341.

Actually Me - Eddie Munson by Savi_Yoi - Rated G

Fandom: Stranger Things

This idea was bouncing around my brain at 3am so I just had to write it down.

Eddie is a famous musician. Gaining fame through the 90s with Corroded Coffin. Him and Steve have been together since 1987, but they were always very private about their relationship. Steve is like a cryptid in the Corroded Coffin fandom, with very little information about him, and very few pictures. Eddie is promoting a solo album in 2021, and Steve is pulled on camera to do a silly interview with him. They're about 54/55 in this fic.

This is the transcript of that interview.

#veryace recs #fanfic recs #the martian #yuri!!! on ice #it 2017 #haikyuu!!#dc #batman #good omens #9-1-1 #leverage #stranger things #percy jackson

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craftyalmondghostflap · 2 years

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The Bubble Bet

Hi there! I just wrote my first fanfiction ever. I watched an episode of Brooklyn 99 today. Then a line stuck woth me and whilst bored at class I wondered how could I adapt this on the Pogues. And then I wrote this one shot. I hope you like it. Have fun reading!

Characters: Pogue!Reader, Reader x JJ Maybank (romantic/ best friends), Reader x Platonic!Pogues

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and weed, mention of hospitalisation, mention of medically prescripted drugs, mention of sexual activities (not smut though), not proof read

Other than that, it's just the pogues hanging out and having fun

Synopsis: after watching an episode of Brooklyn 99, JJ suggests making a bet amongst the pogues.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, this story is a project of my imagination

......................................................

It started off as a day as normal as any other in the Outer Banks. A day of school classes ( some of which had been ditched by our beloved Pogues), then a lil surfing, and hard labour afterwards. After all was said and done, the crew gathered at their usual hangout spot, the Château. Recently, they had started watching Brooklyn 99. That night, all six of them were sprawled on John B's house, watching multiple episodes of the show, drinking beer and smoking weed.

At some point, they reached that one episode where the B99 squad was at that Cop Convention, out of town and the main characters had gotten really drunk, thus resulting to shenanigans. At one point, Jake (one of the MCs) mentions having drunk a bottle of shampoo ( and farting bubbles).

After that episode, none other than JJ Maybank proposed a bet. On said bet, the goal was NOT to drink shampoo. It was practically a battle of making the other Pogues drink shampoo, over an indefinite amount of time. The winner would be the person that managed not to drink any. They would be crowned on typical B99 fashion the "Amazing Human/ Genious" with a added NeverFartedBubbles in the title, all these words engraved in a faux golden cummerbund.

In their somewhat drunken elevated state, all of the Pogues agreed to the bet. They even wrote it down, terms, conditions and all. The following weekend the start of all dumbassery came.

In order to prevent poisoning, they found an edible baby shampoo with 100% edible ingredients. You know, to minimize the damage.

That first weekend, a kegger was thrown in the boneyard. John B, climbing atop of a rock announced "Ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin!". A collective laugh was released, and the game actuall begun.

Y/n managed to mix beer with shampoo. After a few failed tries of giving it to Sarah and Kie, she found her next potential target: JJ. JJ in the meantime, had managed to take Pope out of the game, never revealing how. Y/n actually managed to pass the cup to her boyfriend, getting him to drink it. He downed it all in one sip. The first thing he said was "Babe, what the hell was in that drink, tasted really weird". "YOU JUST DRUNK SHAMPOO", spoke the girl. "So sorry, babe, had to eliminate the competition. I'll make it up to you tonight, though. Love you byeee", she winked. JJ was surprised, but he still laughed his ass of.

After the kegger, they assembled back at John B's place. " Truce for tonight", they agreed. Pope had already created a board of all their names, of off which he crossed of his and JJ's.

Sarah

John B

Y/n

Kie

Pope

4 players were left.

The game, they decided, resumed every weekend. Not letting it interfere with everyday life.

"So, angel, you took me out first. What a betrayal! Thought you loved me..." spoke JJ as his girl was approaching his best, giving her a mock hurt / pouty expression. Running her fingers through his hair, and slowly kissing his neck, she murmured "Let me make it up to you then, sweet boy". And for the rest of the night it was just the two of them, intertwined. "All is forgiven, darling", whispered JJ seconds before the both drifted off to sleep.

In the following few weeks, Y/n managed to get Sarah to lose. And Kiara lost by John B.

Which meant one thing:

John B and Y/n were the two last in the running.

In order to "spice things up" they completely removed the only on weekends rule. They were about to go head to head, with everything they possessed, because they were both quite competitive. Anytime, anywhere they could surprise each other with a lovely drink of hair liquid soap.

Y/n had to win this.

Another rule that was added last minute was one stating that they could not receive any help from third parties and/ or ex players. So asking their partners, friends, and contacts was forbidden. It was just them two.

Suffice to say that the next few days were a nightmare for anyone surrounding the two of them. It was a mess. They didn't fight, but they got really sneaky. Showing up in random places, not daring to eat or drink anything while being in each others company. The Pogues got fed up at some point, and rightfully so. That duo had become really annoying. That's why, Kiara staged an intervention.

"Listen up you idiots! Due to your being so effing annoying, we decided to give you this Saturday to finish this stupid bet."

"No more sneaking around and sabotaging each other.", Added Sarah.

" Take these two days to plan your strategies" spoke Pope.

Then JJ was like " Saturday Endgame. Winner takes all. Loser is just a sore loser. Good luck!"

SATURDAY

After spending those last few days carefully planning, and plotting her victory, Saturday had finally arrived. All seemed to be going as should, until Y/n heard a knock on her door. It was her cousin Amy, coming for a totally unplanned and unexpected surprise visit on the island. The two girls always have had a strong bond. Under normal circumstances, the heroine would be more than glad to see her. But she was currently on "war" with her best friend and this evening, at the biannual bonfire the final battle was about to take place. The two girls had this habid that every single time Amy visited and they went to a party they got drunk. Like really really drunk. The problem was that when Y/n was drunk to that extent, she would do anything. She knew it, JJ knew it, the Pogues knew it. And so did John B.

Despite her best efforts not to, she couldn't resist not breaking the tradition. So when she woke up tucked in her bed the next morning, and seeing her cousin passed out inside her bathtub, with a wave of nausea overcoming her, then hastily making her way and bending over to the toilet and vomiting, she had a dwelling suspicion that she lost the bet.

Hours later, once she ate and was in a good enough state, she started heading towards the Château. Her friends were all passed out around John B's house. Yet the owner of the estate was nowhere to be found. She took a deep breath and started looking for JB. It was time for her to find out had had happened the night before, since she blacked out per usual. Damn Amy's a bad influence, she joked to her self.

After wandering around for a gew minutes, she spotted Jombee down at his dock, chilling inside the HMS Pogue.

"Dude, what happened last night??"

"Well, well, well, look who it is."said the boy with a half menacing, half jokester look on his face.

He let a moment of silence pass, increasing the suspense.

"The sore LOSAH of the squad, hehehe. Got you good pogie...."

The girls face contracted. Then it fell to ground. She felt heat rising up to her cheeks. She inhaled slowly, then exhaled, raised her finger, blinked once, turned around and walked slowly back to the house.

She found the Pogues awake. With a mock trembling voice she spoke loud

"Oh gawd JJ. You're dating a sore loser. I cannot believe John B beat me on this. I hereby vow to to touch a drink for the rest of my life."

Her boyfriend smirked and raised an eyebrow, the girls snickered and Pope snorted.

"okay, okay. Won't touch a drink for the rest of the day. I think. Nevermind, what actually happened last night?"

"So tou aren't going to believe this, but at some point you started playing Truth or Dare with some of the people at the party. I'm talking tourons, kooks and some fellow pogues. But John B was on the other side of the area, probably macking with dear Sarah here" said Pope, pointing at the girl next to him.

"And? I mean he must have appeared later or something, right?"

"No actually, we stayed at that place for a hour. When we got back, we actually watched you downing a bottle of shampoo. Not the newborn baby edible one we got. But the regular one."said Sarah.

"Oh My God" said Y/n with her best Janice impression. "HOW"

"Well, girl, Kelce of all people dared you to drink shampoo. In your drunken daredevil state you obviously accepted. Then some touron actually sprinted to his hotel nearby, and got you hotel shampoo, or shower gel. Not sure.". That was Kiara speaking.

"But that wasn't even the craziest thing that happened. You actually got poisoned, because I guess normal shampoo and alcohol do not mix well. So we drove you to the hospital." Said JJ, worry visible on his face

"They gave you some kind of pill that helped you throw up. We stayed there for an hour. Then we got to the closest fast food restaurant, gave you food, found Amy, who was in a decent state and she insisted to take you home on her own. Obviously we drove you both there and I even tucked you in, baby. But then she kicked us out. We got back to the château and chrashed there"

After a moment of stunned silence the girl managed to speak. "So you're telling me that John B won the bet without doing anything?! And that I was in the hospital?! I need a moment to process that."

In natural pogue fashion, they spend the day laughing, swimming, surfing. When night came, it was time for John B's coronation.

"To the Amazing Human/Genious" said the five pogues, handing the winner his cummerband.

"And one that has Never Farted Bubbles, at that", added the runner up chuckling.

.........................................................

Thank you for reading this.

I hope you liked it.

Have a great day!

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks pogues #john b #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #pope heyward #jj maybank #outer banks imagine #fanfic

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