#i used to give my Little Yellow Guys silly sweaters where did they go!! not sure if i should go back to that or not :O | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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LOVE ME, WRESTLE ME.

Boyfriendrry blurb of some smutty and fluffy thought.

Taking online classes, resting, doing assignments, then spending some time with Harry and watching a movie at night that always ends up in a good fuck isn't boring but it's insipid.

The cooe of rain outside's soothing and tranquil enough to fill in already comfortable silence between you people, your lips murmuring around the instinctive words from the scrabby page of the Oscar Wilde's; The selfish giant. Your knees are hiked up sitting in the love seat opposite to where Harry's sitting on the messy-ly made bed since you both were feeling a tad lazy and in mood to procrastinate house chores.

You're constantly loosing your focus, because you're terribly horny at the moment and Harry in a baggy yellow pawy sweater spread on his tummy over the bed doing nothing but staring at you like he'd swallow you whole isn't helping at all with the ache between your thighs.

So, you do what was needed to be done.

His eyes follows your commotion as you leave your spot kneeing up on the edge of bed, your crotch against his face and you look down at him with a witty smirk.

"Wrestle me." Your voice challenging. You arch your brow with profound irritation when he intentionally dismisses you off by rumbling his lips to blow away the curls falling over his dooey eyes.

"Pardon?" He creates a noise, within a click of his tongue or his hand against your bare thigh (fondling the soft skin he's obsessed with) that dries your throat with hunger. He heard it right. There was no wavering in what you invited him for.

You guys have this game where he has to make you cum within two minutes and you've to wrestle him off, if you loose and cum you've to keep him warm and sloppy in your mouth until it turns into a nice blowie so it's a win win either way.

You fail every time. Most of it is very obvious.

But, right now he's trying to rile your nerves up by acting like an utterly supine cow.

"Hmm?" The questioning hum turns into a giggly squeal when he grabs your ankle and throws you onto the mattress like a rag doll, "S' fuckin' insatiable all the time ..." He growls towering above you, pushing your thighs apart with a tight grip to your soft fleshy insides that makes you hiss. A laugh pits up in your belly from the thrill of shutting them back and fighting him off to piss him further.

Ofcourse him being stronger than you fails you to do so and a loud moan bubbles around you when he licks his palm till the tips of his fingers and smacks your already soaking centre harshly.

"Fuck." You mewl softly sinking into sheets when he yanks your shorts down leaving you in nothing but his large hoodie, your pussy lips flutter from the heated sensation of your stickiness coming in contact with the sting of his chilly rings.

He pins your wrist atop your head and fits himself between your wide opened legs grinding his hard (trouser clad) prick against your heating centre in vigorous rubs, leaving a burn with every stroke and making you loose your stance with the growing desire to have his fingers inside you.

"C'mon fight me now." He grits. Glowering down at you sternly and your tummy coils against his's pelvis with each nasty roll of his hips, you gasp around a sob when he nips at the soft skin of your jaw. He wants you to surrender yourself to him but your ego's more than that so with a trick of pulling at his hair you flip him on his back and crawl up to straddle his torso jerking his shoulder down.

"Aha!" You grin in a victory. His brows pinches down furiously and before you know his calloused hand came spanking your butt-cheek making your face smash into the crook of his neck with an unexpected vulgar series of moans, "Bratty little fuck doll." He grunts landing another spank right where the first one left crimson imprints, again and again till you're a squirming crying mess.

He slides his two fingers down your puckering rim to where you're dripping with wetness and teases your entrance by never dipping them in till the end but rather stroking the spongy wall of your soppy cunt.

You squeal when he flips you on your tummy and leans all his weight over your back to glide his hand between the compact space of their bottoms, he patches breathy kisses to the side of your neck leaving love marks, sliding in his fingers deep inside that when you feel a certain crack resonating to your ears and shooting pain till your toes making them jelly.

You're fucked.

It all happened from your arm placed at the weird angle while he had your hips in air.

"Harry, I think. I might've broken my wrist." You stammer in a calm voice though, barely able to speak when the pang in your joint's inflaming like a wildfire along with the pleasure that's subsiding into an akward spasmy feeling as you pulsates around his fingers.

"Sucha bullshit excuse to mice outta yer defeat." He rasps to you smugly. Your face scrunches up in pain and your head falls into the throw pillow.

"No . ." You shake your head quickly gulping down the thick tears down your throat and when his head clears out from the fog of lust, noticing the weakness in your words he immediately pulls his digits out, "Holy ... Fuck." You try to stay placid knowing his insides are ticking in panic and is about to explode in one, two and —

"Baby -– how — how are y'so calm? Is it hurting? Show me." The shift in his demeanor is adorable as minutes ago he was about to rail you to unconsciousness and now he's the softest cutest caring boyfriend.

Tears prickles at your waterline when he presses his thumb into your wrist bone ever so diligently and it jolts severe pain up your arm.

"I think it's, 'm so so sorry baby. We should go to hospital. Stay here, yeah?" He tells you cupping your cheeks worriedly and rushes to fetch a wet rag when you nod through a sniff and wobbly lips.

He cleans you off, shushing you with tender kisses to your ankles when the throb got overwhelming. Helps you wearing your jeans and shoes being careful not to hurt your wrist any further in doing so.

"It's okay, you're okay lovie —- if the pain's too much —--- dunno we should probably run to hospital." He's out of breath snatching the keys and his coat taking glances of you after every second to make sure you're okay, more like assuring himself, "Bub it wasn't your fault. It was an accident, I can endure a lil bit pain." Through the whole call ride he was jittery and twitchy waiting for to reach the clinic speedily.

He has you embraced by his side with a careful support of his palm under your wrist so it wouldn't dangle that much as he walks you inside.

The doctor sitting infront of you two stares at the way you both are flushed, rosy cheeks, ruffled hair and sheened skin radiating 'we were in the middle of having great sex.' But, she chooses not to speak as you shrink to Harry's side timidly from the embarrassment and shyness.

Harry just passes you a nervous smile squeezing your shoulder to cheer you up and nudges you when the doctor asks the ever awaiting question.

"So . . . How did it happen?"

"Cupboard —-" You speak.

"She fell of —-" And he speaks at the same time.

You look at eachother with wide shocked eyes but then he clear his throat allowing you to speak, "I was putting some dishes up in the cupboard when I lost my footing and knocked my wrist against it." The doctor surely didn't give into your guys shit. Nodding along to your made up story.

You guys feel exposed when the doctor spoke inspecting Y/N wrist, "The injury caused from the pressure of weight, splinting the bone away and tearing the muscle too ... nothing that wouldn't heal in two weeks. You'll be good with an arm cast and these pain killers."

When you step out into the waiting corridor it feels like your secret has been revealed to every single person sitting there and you pull the strings of your hoodie to cover your face and Harry chuckles kissing your head at your silliness.

Once in the privacy of car he speaks looking at your cast properly, "One thing fo' sure that game isn't made fo' us -- you're too delicate to play it just fo' fun and thrill. Next, time just ask me to fuck you baby and I'll surely do it happily." He sighs a puff of breath kissing your cast and patting it lightly jerking back in horror when you yelp.

"Ouch!" He takes your jaw to kiss your lips upon seeing you grinning at your own misheviousness.

"Ye' batty little creature, stop messin' with your poor boyfriend!" He grumps cheekily at your playfullness.

"'M sorry, daddy will you take care of me?" You blink sickly coy through your lashes. Pouting up at him innocently and he shakes his head bopping your nose.

"You just wait and watch." He kisses the side of your head while reversing the car.

"How about we start from drawing dicks on ye' cast, hmm? How bout that?" He smirks and you gasp surprised at his antics.

"Harry!" The car fills up with laughter and giggles until he takes a rough turn.

"You better drive safe else 'm walking home!"

#harry styles imagines #dirty harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry angst #harry styles fanfiction #dom harry #harry styles #cute harry #fluff #IDK IF YOULL LIKE IT BUT THIS IDEA WAS SWIMMING IN MY DIRTY HEAD FOR SO LONG UNTIL IT ENDED UP BEING A FLUFF

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bl597 · 4 years

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Hello! I just found your blog and I loved your writing 💜 Idk if I can request something? Like the reader forgot her clothes or ruin them, wanted to lend some from Ginny but she is smaller so ends up using Fred's, he is shooked, flustered, and happy. All fluffy and stuff. Thanks 💜💜💜

hello, sweetie! thank you sooooooo much 💞💞 of course you can, feel free to request as many imagines as you want to! I hope you enjoy it, sorry it took me so long to post it! 💖

warnings: fluff yay, kind of gender neutral!reader (?), it got a little small (sorry), english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes! requests are open!!

my masterlist ♡

Ginny, your best friend, had invited you to stay at the Burrow during your summer break, and you, of course, accepted it. You loved the family of redheads as if it was your own, and loved to stay at the Burrow. It had been almost two weeks since you arrived and you and the 'kids' were having lots of fun together.

You, Ginny, Ron, the twins, Harry, Bill and Charlie were playing quidditch, and Molly (as she told you to call her), Hermione and Arthur (as he also told you to call him) were cheering for you all. It was funny to play with them, since you were competitive little shits and didn't want to lose, so you all made a bet: the team that loses has to degnome the garden, and no one wanted to do it.

Your team lost and you had to degnome the garden right after the game because the twins wouldn't let you guys live if you didn't do it as soon as possible. After about an hour or so, Molly told you all to take a shower so you could eat something. You and Ginny went first and the boys went after.

You were with Ginny in her room, looking for something comfortable to wear. Frowning, you turned to her “Hey, Ginny, could you borrow me a shirt? Mine are dirty.”

“Sure” she said, looking for a shirt in her wardrobe. She then handed you a white shirt and you thanked her, putting it on but pouting when you realised it was too small and too tight for you “Do you want me to look for some other?” she asked.

“Yes, please” you nodded, smiling at her and folding the shirt, putting it where it was again.

She then left the room and you sat down on the bed, waiting for her to return. After a few minutes she came back with a bigger shirt, handing it to you with a small smirk. You thanked her, finding her a little suspicious but just ignoring it.

The shirt was big and really comfortable, it smelt like the Burrow and a weirdly familiar cologne, but you couldn't identify where you had smelt it before. When you turned to her, she was smiling widely at you, practically beaming with pride. You opened your mouth to ask why she was like this, but Mrs Weasley's voice interrupted you, calling you two to tell you dinner is ready. Ginny then dragged you downstairs with her, the smile as big as always.

The first person you saw was Ron, who looked at the shirt you were wearing and then at Ginny, mouthing something like 'is that his shirt?', to which Ginny nodded excitedly. Ron then left, smirking at your confused face. You turned to Ginny, ready to ask her what the hell was that when you were interrupted once again, this time by George.

“Look what we have here.” he said smirking while placing an arm around your shoulder. “So you liked Freddie's shirt, uh, (Y/n)?”

“What?” you asked, already feeling your face getting hot.

“Hey, Fred! I've found your shit!” he yelled to his twin, who just entered the room. When he locked eyes with you, his face became as hot and red as his hair, just like your face was and he lowered his head to avoid your curious eyes, with what looked like a shy smile on his lips.

“Ginny!” you exclaimed, blushing furiously.

But when you turned around to face her, she was smirking. She then cupped her ear, as if she heard something “Oh, sorry, mom just called me and George to help her. Have fun, you two” she said, pulling George by his arm so he could follow her, they both giggling.

You and Fred stayed quiet, too embarrassed to say something or look at each other. You glanced at him, noticing he was shirtless, but then you quickly looked away, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable, focusing on the roof instead. “So,” you shyly spoke “why are you shirtless?"

“Because you're with my shirt” he said, chuckling.

“Oh.” you looked at his face, an apologetic half smile on your face. “I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was yours. I can ta-”

“No, it's okay” he cut you off “It's okay, you can stay with it. I'll just find another one.”

“Okay, then.” you smiled at him “Now, if you excuse me, I'll kill your sister right now.”

“I'll put some clothes on before mom catches me and then I can help you” he winked, climbing the stairs to go to his room, leaving you a blushing mess.

After that day, you and Fred were kind of awkward with each other, and whenever you two were alone, there was this uncomfortable silence. Like, he made a few jokes but it just felt weird. Ginny and George didn't stop teasing the shit out of you two ever since then, always nudging you when he entered the room or vice versa.

It was kind of boring, actually. You really liked spending time with the twins, especially Fred, but now you couldn't say anything without making the situation awkward. The fact that you always remembered that moment also didn't really help, since all you could think about was Fred's face when he saw you in his shirt. His face was as red as his hair and he was looking down, but there was still that small smile on his face that made you wonder a lot. Was he trying to hide his laugh? Or was he actually smiling?

The thought that he probably was smiling made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. You didn't really want to admit it to yourself, but you may or may not have feelings for the redhead). It was obvious to anyone who looked at you whenever Fred was around; you were a blushing and stuttering mess, and could barely function like a normal human being. Ginny – and honestly the whole castle – knew about your 'secret' feelings for her old brother, she noticed the not-so subtle stares you sent Fred's way everytime you were in the same room and she was sick of watching her brother doing the exact same thing with you, so that was why she and George came up with the 'shirt plan'.

You were now sitting with Ginny and Hermione on the Burrow's garden, just admiring the beautiful sunset in front of you. Hermione then nudged Ginny with her elbow, raising her brow at the redhead with a look that you didn't really understand, which made you furrow. Ginny then nodded, the same diabolic smile on both their faces.

“Mione, I just remembered something! We have to do that... thing! Yeah, that thing! Remember?” she exclaimed, already getting up. “Let's go!”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, the thing!” Hermione said, quite awkwardly, getting ready to leave with Ginny.

“Can I go too?” you asked, looking at them whilst pouting.

“No, sorry” Ginny said “It's..”

“A thing for only two people! Sorry, (Y/n/n)” Hermione quickly cut her off, giving you an apologetic smile before dragging Ginny with her, whispering something you couldn't hear.

You sighed, enjoying the view anyway. You stayed like that for a few minutes, the sunlight kissing your skin, its warmth making you feel a little less cold. Despite being summer now, the night breeze was really cold, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket or a jumper like Hermione told you to.

After a minute or two you heard footsteps quietly approaching you, then the person sat down next to you without saying anything, just enjoying the beautiful view. You saw the messy red hair sitting beside you, his blue sweater with a large yellow 'F' on it made you realise who it was.

“Aren't you cold?” his deep voice brought you back to reality and you blinked at him, shaking your head slowly. “Are you sure?”

“I'm fine, Fred” you answered shyly, still not looking directly at him.

He didn't say anything and you two fell in an almost comfortable silence for the first time ever since the 'shirt plan'. You then felt something on your shoulders, something soft and that made you warm up. Looking down, you saw a jacket that you recognized as his and it smelt exactly like that shirt, Fred's scent was intoxicating and you swore you could never get enough of it.

“Nice view, don't you think?” he asks whilst turning to face you and smiling.

“Yeah.” you nodded “The sun is amazing, especially at this time of the day.”

“The sun is beautiful too, but I prefer another view” he said quietly, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

“And what is that?” you asked shyly, seeing his face lit up and a smirk replace his smile.

“You.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but you never found the right words. What were you supposed to do at this moment? You didn't even need to see yourself in a mirror to know that your face is just as hot and red as fire now, and you were pretty sure he definitely noticed it, the playful smirk on his face confirming your suspicions.

“Oh” was all you managed to say. You mentally face palmed yourself, embarrassed by your lack of coherent answers. “Thank you?”

He laughed quite loudly, throwing his head back. You confusedly looked at him, silently asking what was so funny and he just shook his head, still giggling. “You're weird.” he replied between giggles, giving you a big smile.

“That's really rude of you, did you know that?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

“I meant it in a good way, love”

You crossed your arms, huffing, and turned to watch the sunset that was now almost gone. The sky was a beautiful mix of orange and pink shades and it looked like a real life painting. You were too focused on the beautiful sky in front of you that you didn't even notice Fred's silly smile, looking at you in awe.

“So, someone told me you have feelings for me. Is that true, (Y/l/n)?” he asked in a playful tone, slowly inching closer to you.

“Who told you that?!” you exclaimed, looking at him with wide eyes “It was Ginny or George, wasn't it? Oh, I'll kill them!”

“Maybe” he quietly spoke before smirking again “Well, I might return these feelings.”

“What?!”

“You heard me the first time” he playfully rolled his eyes “Can you confirm if the rumors are true?”

“Which rumors?” you stuttered, blushing.

“That we have a date next week”

“What?!”

“You're not as smart as I thought you were” he joked “I was asking if you wanted to go on a date next week? With me?”

You only nodded, not trusting your own voice to say anything at the moment. He smiled widely at you before turning back to the sky in front of you two, you both watching it silently, just enjoying each other's company.

You smirked when you heard whispers a few feet behind you, whose voices you recognized as Ginny, Hermione and George's excitedly cheering that their little 'plan' worked.

taglist ♡

@witchorical @fific7 @iamak20 @msmimimerton @grierpilots @idontknowwhatthisisfam @imseeinggred

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flourgirl · 3 years

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Hooked On A Feeling

Pairing: Peter Parker x telepath!Reader

Summary: When another competitor at the quiz bowl championships confronts you about using your telepathic powers to cheat your way to victory, you immediately recognize him as Spiderman.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Fluffy flirting and one sorta-curse word.

A/N: This was originally going to be the first part of a series, but my friend and I thought this ended on a good note after I wasn’t feeling it. Enjoy! :-)

“If you would open up your heart Drop your weapons, drop your guard Just a little trust is all it takes” -Give a Little, Maggie Rogers

You had twenty minutes until the final round of the competition and excused yourself from your team’s mini celebration to go get a drink from the vending machine in the hallway.

“Hey, wait,” you heard a voice call out to you. You turned to see a guy from the team that you had just beat walking towards you. “I know what you’re up to.”

You had to admit, he was really cute, even if he didn’t know which woodwind plays the glissando at the beginning of ‘Rhapsody in Blue’. But this was nothing like your daydreams of how he’d introduce himself. You didn’t have to read his mind to tell that he was pissed off.

“And what is it that I’m up to? Thinking about what drink to buy?” you said, playing dumb, even though you knew exactly why he was walking towards you.

“You’re a telepath,” he whispered, leaning against the vending machine. It only took you a few seconds to realize who the boy standing next to you actually was and how he knew about your secret.

“Okay, you got me,” you laughed, twisting open the bottle of lemonade that he definitely did not see you pay for. “And you’re Spiderman. But I have to admit, you’re not at all what I expected.”

“And, uh… what did you expect?” Peter was flustered. Sure, you could read his mind and find out who he was, but had you actually been thinking about who was behind the mask this entire time?

“You look taller in the photos,” you shrugged, despite the fact that he could still easily look straight over your head without a problem. It was just fun to tease him.

He felt his cheeks turning pinker by the second. “Well, you don’t look like a cheater, so I guess we’re even.”

“I’m not cheating, Peter,” you replied nonchalantly, taking another sip of your drink.

He hadn’t even told you his name, but he liked the way it sounded coming from you. Peter’s eyes looked down at your lips, quickly darting back up before you could notice, but based on his thoughts, you had a few good guesses about what had just distracted him.

“Don’t lie to me. I could tell that you were reading my mind, and every time I went to hit the buzzer, you were always one step ahead of me,” Peter reasoned, becoming increasingly frustrated knowing that you could read every thought that was going on in his head right now. “I… I have spidey-senses.”

Your eyebrow cocked up, and you smiled at the silly phrase he had just used.

“Spidey-senses?” you questioned, making his eyes widen over the sudden realization that it sounded like a five-year-old had coined the nickname he had given to his powers. It was all getting to be a bit too much for him.

“Look, could you please stop for a minute? I feel like I can’t breathe with you inside my head, alright?” he snapped, startling you a little bit.

You had never met someone who knew about your powers, and so you never had to deal with the consequences of invading their privacy. To be honest, it never even crossed your mind just how upsetting it must be to have someone know exactly what you’re thinking all the time.

Neither of you said anything or even looked at each other until he had finally calmed back down, feeling that your unwanted presence was no longer poking and prodding around his brain.

“So, uh, do you go to that school,” he started, “I can’t remember what it’s called, but Wanda was telling me about it and how she almost got sent there when she was little, and—”

“I don’t go to Xavier’s,” you cut him off, and he suddenly realized just how much he was rambling to a complete stranger. “Nobody even knows that I’m a telepath. Well, except you.”

“Sorry about that,” he said, looking around the room. “But could you please just quit it with the cheating? Even though you guys already beat us, I think the next team that you play should be given a fair fight.”

You were a little disappointed that he already didn’t trust you, but you couldn’t blame him. You had been reading his mind, just not to do what he thought you were doing.

“I promise I’m not cheating,” you restated, looking into his brown eyes that you were just now noticing had little flecks of green in them.

“Well, can you tell me what you were doing, then?” he asked. He really wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, especially since you had already stopped using your powers once you realized just how much it bothered him.

You could feel your heartbeat getting faster, and so could Peter. Were you going to let him think that you were a liar or tell him the embarrassing reason as to why you were reading his mind? You decided that the latter was the better choice.

“I think you’re cute,” you blurted out, suddenly aware of how hot your face felt. “And I was, well… I was reading your mind to see if you felt the same way about me.”

That wasn’t what Peter was expecting you to say at all, and he immediately felt really bad for even thinking that you were using your powers to somehow rig the competition.

“Oh.” His voice got quieter. “And what did you find out?”

You stepped closer to him, now knowing that Peter Parker smelled like clean laundry fresh out of the dryer, and you liked that a lot.

“That you think I’m pretty, and you really like how the color of my sweater looks against my skin.” Even without your powers, you could tell that he was nervous.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, so you’re going to have to tell me,” you admitted, closing the space between you. “Or, you can just show me.”

Peter wasn’t the kind of guy to go around kissing girls he had just met, or even flirting with them for that matter, but he found himself drawn to you for some reason that he couldn’t quite place. And before he knew it, he was leaning down to kiss you.

You didn’t know how long it had been before his hand left your waist and you were getting down from your tiptoes, coming out of your daze.

“Was that okay?” Peter asked, waiting for you to say something to break the silence.

“Huh,” you sighed, bringing your fingertips to touch where his lips had just been. “So that’s what that feels like.”

It took Peter a few seconds to realize what you meant. It was your first kiss.

“Y/N!” you heard your team captain call. You looked to see her peeking out of the auditorium doors, gesturing for you to hurry up. “Come on, you’ve got like, one minute before we start!”

“Sorry, Parker. I’ve gotta go,” you said, pushing a lock of his hair back into place. “But who knows, maybe you can help me celebrate my team winning tonight.”

He watched in awe as you ran back into the auditorium, your shiny hair swishing behind you. Y/N, Peter thought to himself. He could get used to saying that.

“What the hell, Y/N?” your best friend, Beatrice, whispered as you took your seat next to her. “We’ve been talking about your perfect first kiss ever since we were 12, and now Sam tells me she saw you kissing some random guy in the hallway?”

“He’s not random,” you told her, smoothing your hair down from where Peter’s hands had messed it up. “I know him. Well, I sort of know him.”

“I have no idea what that means,” she complained, rolling her eyes. You knew you’d have a lot of explaining to do on the walk back to the hotel.

You shushed her, the host announcing that the questions were about to begin. You saw Peter slip back into the room, and watched as he sat down with what you could only guess were his classmates in the second row.

Most of them were wearing bright yellow blazers, but one guy had on a sweatshirt that had ‘Midtown School of Science and Technology’ printed around an atom across the front of it.

It wasn’t long before the match was over and your team was gathered in a circle to have yet another celebratory chant. You managed to slip away from the huddle to walk over to Peter.

“That was amazing! You’re amazing,” he told you, effortlessly picking you up and twirling you around. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, you thought to yourself.

He set you down gently on the floor, his brown eyes practically glowing with excitement. It felt like the two of you had known each other for much longer than you actually had.

“Thanks,” you muttered, staring down at your shoes. You had just remembered that tomorrow morning, you’d be leaving New York City to get on a plane back to your hometown in the middle of nowhere. Peter’s smile faded at the sudden shift of your mood.

“Go on a date with me tonight,” he said, making you look back up at him in surprise. You noticed that he had the lightest smattering of freckles across his nose.

“Wow,” you started, not really knowing how to react. “Who would’ve thought that today I’d be winning the national quiz bowl championships AND getting offered a free tour of New York City from the Spiderman?”

“Come on, don’t tease me. Just say yes,” he insisted, pouting. “I promise I’ll make it worth your time.”

“Fine, I’ll go out with you,” you happily agreed, making his puppy dog eyes disappear. “Meet me at the front of the Marriott on Albany Street at 6.”

“Ok, cool, awesome. Uh, I’ll see you at six,” he said, grinning from ear to ear as you walked back towards your group.

You glanced back to see him silently celebrating to himself, and you decided to let yourself use your powers just this once to tell him, “I saw that.”

Peter immediately stopped his little victory dance to look at you smiling at him from across the room, and he gave you an awkward wave before leaving to catch up with his classmates.

You smiled brightly as a local news reporter snapped a group picture of your team, knowing that you had just scored a date with the cutest guy on the planet.

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Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @yourbiggestspiderfan

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman x reader #mcu #marvel #tom holland x reader

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reallyhardy · 3 years

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regent’s open air theatre LSOH (2018) breakdown

act one. herein, two years later, i try to remember as much as i can about this production with the help of gifs i took from the trailer and shutterstock images. let’s go!

THE BEGINNING. i went to see a matinee so it was daytime, but the stage set was all black-and-white very newspaper aesthetic. my sister and i were very close to the front, five rows back:

and here we are, excited for everything to begin. (note my giant tooth earrings. was really hoping they’d catch matt willis’ eye.) soon enough crystal, ronette and chiffon took the stage for the prologue, belted their faces off and got me hype from the first moment. their costumes were kind of punky, street style (my favourite look was on the girl with the green jacket and shiny leggings:)

skid row was great. the grey set really highlighted the colourful costumes, and for this first number the set stayed black-and-white so the only colour were the main characters and urchins, and the ensemble wore black-and-white costumes.

and i remember being so thrilled by the costumes - in this photo seymour is wearing yellow socks but by the time i went to see it they were pink (to match audrey’s hair!) and audrey is wearing fluffy slide slippers in the promo photos but when i saw it she wore a pair of blue open-toe kitten heels.

once the song ended we got to see some character personality: marc antolin as seymour was adorable. he was (for most of the first act at least) very goofy and beamed a lot, he had a very cute smile. his voice was quite high and nasal and silly and i honestly had a really big crush on him. jemima rooper as audrey was equally sweet and adorable - she had a cotton candy pink wig and started off in kind of a sexy-ish outfit, with a sheer off-shoulder top over a bra. her eye makeup was light blue (and the bruise bright purple) and she was really short compared to seymour. mushnik was super tiny and greasy looking.

every interaction seymour and audrey had was just! so cute. at the start where audrey and mushnik discuss orin (the ‘you don’t meet nice boys on skid row’ conversation,) seymour is stood behind them kind of goofing around and he flips his shirt collar up pretending to be orin and acting macho but at the end of the scene audrey goes quiet and carefully fixed his collar back down before she left and it was!!! emotions.

da doo i can’t remember anything about how things looked :( during grow for me it really highlighted how…cute seymour was. he beamed the whole time, and the plant puppet in its baby form was fantastic, (the pod head at the top opened up and had little human teeth lmao) and they used like… household objects painted green for plants. the roses were red toilet brushes:

with red ink on them so when seymour touched the bristles there was visible blood on his finger which was fun. lots of attention to detail in this production.

seymour on the radio i think happened off-stage? so we just hear him being interviewed while we watch mushnik and the urchins listen to the radio together. the choreography during you never know was really fun too, with seymour and the urchins dancing together, seymour did a lot of hip wiggles and kept trying to stop audrey ii from trying to bite at the urchins as he danced. one of the green ping-pong balls fell off the puppet but nobody slipped on it so it was fine. also GOD the voices of the urchins were just so good in this one.

somewhere that’s green is a song that makes me cry most of the times i listen to it or watch any versions of LSOH, but this is the first time i’d seen a version where audrey was also crying. during this number the actress climbed up onto the top of the mushnik’s store prop and she still had the bright purple black-eye makeup on as well as the cast on her arm so she looked so beat down and sad and it was just toward the end of the song at ‘i’m his december bride’ where her singing started to break down and she started crying, and covered her face by the time she got to ‘far from skid row’ with her voice breaking oh my god the tears were flowing VERY much from my eyes.

and as a note the actress did not have this beautiful wig on when i saw it, she wore one with much less volume - it could have been the same wig just styled differently, (tucked under/trimmed to be just sort of...round?) but it was just... so much less cute lmao, you can just about see it here in this cast mirror selfie:

anyway. then it was time for closed for renovation! this one was fun, audrey and seymour i think were just...arranging plants and other things? the ‘mushniks’ shop prop might have expanded a bit? they turned it around?

there were some cute little dancey bits with the three of them together:

then audrey & seymour talk a bit. audrey gives seymour the kind of advice that she also needs to be taking herself -- seymour asks audrey if she’d go shopping with him, and then orin arrives on the scene.

dentist was amazing. i’ve seen a lot of bootlegs of kind of lackluster orin scrivellos but… well, me and my sister decided we were absolutely going to see this production when we found out matt willis was playing the dentist. (we were big busted fans lol) he wore this insane painted leather jacket with this tooth-themed biker gang design (he and his backup dancers all had hell’s teeth on the backs of their jackets) and his dentist coat underneath had the sleeves ripped off to show his tattoos… they gave him white foundation to make him look i guess more ill/joker like? it totally worked. he honestly kinda stole the show and he totally exceeded my expectations (which is saying something because my expectations were that he’d be perfect for the role and that i’d enjoy his performance thoroughly!!!)

then he comes into the shop, comments on the plant, poses around, treats audrey terribly. and not only does he abuse audrey in front of seymour who iirc was watching horrified (as you would) but also poor seymour gets his junk grabbed twice by villains in this production too lmao, orin grabs and squeezes seymour’s junk while he’s yelling at audrey. it’s a theme i guess???

(hell of a promotion image, that one.) then orin and audrey leave and it’s time for mushnik and son. they did a lot of the usual ‘awkward-tango’ choreo and it was just excellent really. there’s nothing i didn’t enjoy about the number, plus mush was quite a short guy but had a real big voice.

you get a good view of all the fun things they used to represent plants here too: cleaning brushes, feather dusters, hairbrushes, a small fishing net, a bubble wand...

so feed me was great because it starts off of course with the plant puppet prop:

but then by the second verse (when it comes to ‘does this look inanimate to you’) they opened up the puppet’s leaves like a mouth and audrey ii in drag queen form emerged (to thunderous applause). [i found a short clip someone got on instagram a while back, you can watch it here!] she was holding a microphone in her hands so when it came to seymour’s responses she held out the mic to his mouth and it was :’) really funny. and seymour gets his junk grabbed again:

because he can’t catch a break. staging wise i think i remember this was very bisexual - it’s important to note that the first wig audrey ii wears strongly resembles the wig that OG audrey wears - and at times during this number audrey ii acts quite flirtatious with seymour and he seems receptive to it and has to visibly shake himself out of it.

audrey comes back for her sweater (iirc it was a VERY jazzy 1990s looking one in aqua green and pink) and seymour and audrey ii make up their minds about what to do with orin.

so seymour heads out - the dentists chair was just a beat-up shopping trolley with various things stuck on (see there’s what looks like a plunger, wrist restraints too lmao) and orin had a bunch of bloodied weapons such as a power drill instead of a dentist drill:

anyway i usually don’t enjoy now(it’s just the gas) as a number when i’ve seen it in bootlegs but again matt willis had tremendous feral energy and he pulled it off. plus the gear was quite retro-futuristic very cool looking:

it was also especially funny just after ‘now’ because after seymour runs off with orin’s body in the trolley he comes back in with it all chopped up and he was pushing dismembered limbs (the arm was even painted with matt willis’ tattoos and nail polish which was a GREAT detail) into the windows of the prop mushnik’s building that audrey ii was inside of, and he even threw up into the audience which was :’) gross but funny. it was yellow. i didn’t see if it splashed anyone.

then... intermission. will continue this in [part 2, which is here!]

#LSOH #little shop of horrors #regent's park open air theatre

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aggresivelyfriendly · 3 years

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-Tis the Damn Season- Year Three

Jingle Bell Rock Me

Hi anybody reading! She’s a tiny bit short, but so am I, and I think that’s cute! Lol! Thanks to @dirtystyles for the beta!

"Excuse me, Emma." His voice, the one that's been echoing in the hollows of her body for a year and that she hasn't heard except for on the occasional call in the same amount of time, nearly buckles her knees. It steals her breath and speeds her heart. She imagines her cheeks and chest have gone that red color.

It's not the same over the phone.

Emma thought she had prepared herself, at least a little. No amount of busyness could make her forget that she was going to see him. Emma had done her best to distract herself with trips to the market for her mum and to the pub to see anyone in town. She knew seeing him in those places was less likely. She really wanted to see him, to look at him full on, but Gemma was already looking at her a little funny, with her fluttering lashes and subtle panting. She hopes it's subtle. She's just about to get a hold of herself, she is sure of it, when his fingers brush over the keyhole in the back of her sweater. She'd worn it for this very purpose. Hoping they'd find themselves in the vicinity of the mistletoe or alone in the kitchen, or her bent over a chair in the snowy garden, wherever, and he could get his hands on her a little, despite the chill of the December weather.

It was everything she had hoped for, but that he went for it so immediately, another victory, is what makes her sure she's miscalculated her strategy. His opening volley has her ready to fall down dumbly and suck him off, and she hasn't even looked at him.

Emma can feel the goosebumps pop up and she hears his suppressed chuckle at her excitement at his presence, his touch. And that does it. If she was looking at him, could look at him, she would be rolling her eyes, maybe giving him a two finger salute. She suppresses the eye roll. Luckily, Gemma is doing it for her.

"Harry, are you just going to be a pest all evening? Surely some friend you still trust is here, don't lurk when I've found one of mine." Gemma put her arm around Emma's shoulder and turned her. It's lucky, because now they both can look at him, and Emma can do so unobserved. Gem is still talking to him in her dressing down tone, she'd loved to use that one on an assortment of dickheads in sixth form, and Emma almost laughs realizing where she perfected it. On Harry, who is looking at his sister with amusement, her barbed tongue having no impact on him. His backbone is stiffer than Emma's, though other body parts have more in common. His eyes are as wandering as hers. He slid his gaze to her, he stays near the acceptable places, though her lips tingled when he stared at those momentarily. When his gaze dropped lower, she could tell where it was roving though he feinted and parried so fast Gemma may very well not notice.

Emma is not so disciplined, and her gape is not the dance of a fencer, but is the blunt of a broadsword. He looks better than last year, she thinks. He's thicker, she can already feel his wider presence between her thighs. His hair must be longer, but he's got it wrapped up and she can't wait to pull it free and clutch at it later.

She's only seen him twice, in a year. Seen him through a call on her tiny iPhone screen.

The first had been early, just after she got back to Amsterdam and he texted to get her address. Later that day, when the giant bouquet of flowers arrived she had to call him.

"Do you send all the girls you fuck enough flowers to give their roommates sneezing fits?" She'd immediately taken the piss. Defensewas the best offense.

"Only the ones I'm hoping to fuck again." He'd been quick to respond and she was glad she hadn't yet answered the FaceTime call he must have immediately initiated. Emma got her blush under control, maybe just enough color in her cheeks to make the video call slightly more flattering, though the white and yellow blooms gave her a good backdrop to work with.

"Well aren't you a charmer!"

"Right out of your knickers!" He flashed his eyebrows and she realized he appeared to be in a hotel room in his boxers. Oh, OH, that's why he's flirting so hard.

Does she wanna do this, on their first phone call, have video chat sex? Is that a thing? He's laying back on the bed and she's about to throw her penny and pound into the ring when she hears Lula come into the entryway. "Behave! My roommate just got home!"

"Oh, should I say hello?" He asks and his hand slides to his stomach, right over the butterfly tattoo she had kissed until it fluttered a week before.

"No, I don't want to hear the screams!" Emma stage whispered.

"Oh, she's a fan?" He asked like only one answer was possible.

"Yea, of me. And she's been trying to get me laid for months." Emma giggled. "She says I study too much, I object, she doesn't study enough."

"Well, we took care of that." He made a curious face then. "You're not gonna tell her?"

Did he expect her to blab to anybody that would listen that she'd banged a pop star? Maybe phone a tabloid? "No, I don't think I'll tell anyone. I like the idea of you as my secret."

"Our little secret!" His dimpled smirk really did her in.

"Our dirty little secret." She filled in the missing word, it fit snugly in his growing dimples. The possibilities too. She'd hugged her flat mate and excised herself to make good on the promise the phrase made.

And then they didn't do more than text for ages, he was on some massive tour and the time zones had her not seeing his texts for hours because they needed to sleep and she needed to lock herself in libraries and labs. The second time they spoke he'd been on a break, in California, and he'd called to see if she could fly out. She was at the airport, oddly, but she was going to Reykiyavik, not Riverside.

She'd told herself the whole flight that it was silly to feel sad. They knew with their schedules that seeing each other might only happen over the holidays. It was such a given they hadn't even discussed it.

So, as much as she wanted to, and was overwhelmed that he'd even thought to ask her, she'd just told him, "H, I can't. I'm on my way to my summer studies."

And he'd just said, "Ah well, I'll just have to keep dreaming about seeing you then." Those words had colored her night visions for months.

He'd also left her a detailed message about what he wanted for Christmas three weeks ago.

His morning voice on her phone for three delicious, descriptive minutes was the closest she'd gotten to what he sounded like in person.

Her dreams were really bright then, almost technicolor, better than reality. At least reality with someone who wasn't Harry, as she found out in October.

It still hit differently, his voice, in this moment because she could see what he looked like too. In his jazzy button up and tight jeans. The guy she'd dated for a bit, Marko, had reminded her a little of Harry. But looking at the real thing now, in the flesh, not painted on hues, but living and breathing, she couldn't quite recall why.

Maybe just the hair. Though, Harry's was longer now, curlier, wilder.

It made her wild. When they made eye contact, she felt it in her toes. There was a pause in conversation, everyone waiting, Gemma waiting, for them to greet each other. Emma knew she should say hello, but she was busy trying to regulate her breathing. Panting wouldn't do, but that's what the collision of her daydreams and her wet dreams was inspiring.

Harry saved her, of course. "Hey Emma! It's so good to see you." The way he said good, the tone was almost like when he'd called her a "good girl" when she woken him up with a blow job last year. . Or, she thought it sounded like that.

God, what was he doing to her. She was nodding.

"It's really lovely to see you too, Styles, you've had a big year!" She'd started paying attention, when she had the time.

He blushed. Oh god!

"God, don't get him started, his head will only get bigger!" Gemma said affectionately, jostling Harry a little. "And you," she'd pointed at Emma then, "don't forget that time we had to help him hide coming home off his tits and he pissed himself. He's still my idiot little brother! No matter how famous!"

Or handsome, was Emma's addendum. She said it in her head. But they were all laughing and Gemma had given him more reasons for the attractive flush on his cheeks and deep press of his chagrined dimple. "We wouldn't want him to get a big head!" Emma giggled.

"I'm big enough everywhere else!" Harry tried to boast before Gemma started a story about how they'd had to special order a hat once, because of his massive cranium, and Emma could only sneak glances until he decided to loudly leave.

"I don't have to take this abuse!" He narrowed his green eyes at his sister. "Emma, if you want to have a conversation where my sister doesn't make it her job to insult me, I'll be in the kitchen." Near the mistletoe her mind added.

"She'll pass, I'm sure!" Gemma laughed.

Emma just smiled, as placidly as her galloping heart allowed. "I'm sure I'll need a refill at some point. Maybe then!" Her eyes promised she'd find him.

Which was how she'd wound up on the countertop of the back bathroomn with her palm between her teeth, her tights around her ankles and Harry's head between her thighs.

"Shh, shh!" He laughed up at her and god, he looked so in his element on his knees during his mother's party with a naughty glint in his eyes. Emma wrapped her hand around his chin and pulled him up to her.

"Come here!" She breathed against his mouth. The kiss tasted of her and who knew how much she liked that? Harry apparently, based on the knowing look he gave her when he pulled back to get his dick out of his tight jeans. "Convenient skirt this!"

"Inconvenient jeans those are. Are they some form of birth control?"

"Huh?" That stopped him as he was rolling the condom onto himself.

"There's evidence that wearing things too tight on your bollocks might reduce sperm count. That an extra measure to stop groupie babies?" She shouldn't ask about or imply she didn't want him sleeping with anyone else. They only saw each other once a year. She pretended even to herself that she didn't care who he slept with the rest of the year. If she wanted to know, she supposed she could ask, but she didn't. She also pretended not to compare her other rare dates to him.

There is no comparison.

"I'm gonna have to buy a whole new wardrobe!" He laid his nose against her collarbone and she pressed hers into his hair. She'd pulled off the head scarf as soon as they'd gotten into the bathroom and she was taking full advantage of the access. He was right, it was a little awkward, but Emma could see the potential and it was perfect for pulling.

He was perfect.

Her eyes had closed and she needed to get him back into gear, she should know better than to question a man's manhood when she was trying to use it. "Do you think you could afford it?" Her sarcasm was evident. She got her hand around the funny texture of his skinned cock. "Seems to be working just fine, still, and with possible positive side effects. Should we test it out?"

He lifted his head and his heavy breaths and blown out pupils suggested her stroke had brought him back to their present activity. He caught her mouth and her hips and brought her to the edge of the sill before sinking into her. He'd done his job well, the resistance was minimal and exactly what she remembered. He stopped for just a moment and she wondered if he enjoyed the fullness as much as she did. They exhaled together, made eye contact.

"I've dreamed about this for a year!" He started to move and stole the breath she would have said 'me too' with.

She knew she was making too much noise, she had every time she was with him. He was shushing her again and grinning proudly. "You have to be quiet." He laughed against her mouth.

"Make me?" Was what she said.

"Well, that would involve stopping, and I've no intention of that." So instead he caught her face and licked into her mouth while redoubling his stroke. He covered her mouth with his palm a moment later when her neck went soft and her head hit the mirror.

It was coming, the wave she'd been searching for that had receded too quickly when she'd insisted he kiss her after getting off moments ago. She bit down on his hand to muffle the groan growing in her lower belly.

"Ow!" He looked up from where he was jawing the tits he'd popped out of her bra. Emma squeezed down on him, hard, Iiterally. "Fuck!" He kept eye contact and sped up his thrusts, hitting up just as he had been when she bit him. Her eyes closed as she started to crest, popping open again when the door rattled.

Harry thought quickly and put his hip against it. His strong hold on her doubly useful. They both looked to the lock.

"You nearly done?" An unremarkable voice called.

Harry smirked at her. Covered her mouth and yelled through the door, "Yes, nearly!"

Emma didn't think she could come like that, but she was wrong. Her orgasm was all the stronger for the palm secured over her mouth and the person through the door who might hear. And for Harry's cocky cheek while he pushed into her, until his face dissolved and he groaned. She should have put her hand over his mouth.

Instead her fingers went there and he sucked dutifully.

That set her mind running. Should she ask about meeting later? Tonight, or their traditional, she hoped, Boar's Headon Boxing Day get-together?

They'd already gotten into each other; last year they'd wound up together any free moment, but she didn't want to presume. A week full of stolen moments, some texts messages, a couple phone calls, and a back bathroom fuck did not entitle her to anything.

This wasn't enough for her, but she was too afraid to ask for more. Even what she'd had last time.

"God!" He breathed as he pulled himself free and her off the sink, fixing her skirt before washing his hands and dick, not in that order, in the basin, "How am I gonna wait until tomorrow night?" He turned a drowsy sated smile on her. "What time can you get away to the Boar's Head?"

"You still want to meet up?" She hoped she didn't sound as astounded to his ears as her own told her she did.

He's folding his beautiful dick into his jeans and he's about to do the little jump he does to position it when he just stops. He looks at her quizzically. "Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

She needs to pee and use the sink for the inelegant water in hand wash out, but she'd rather do that in front of him than reveal her insecurity. "It's just...we just..." She pointed between the two of them.

"Yeah, and we can do more," He motioned between them. Then his face lost the cheek and was replaced by a look of focused earnestness that made her heart beat harder than seeing him in person an hour ago. "And if I only get to see you once a year, because you're terribly ambitious and I'm terribly busy—"

"Yeah, you're just busy, not ambitious." She'd try to diffuse the intensity of whatever she's hoping he's about to say.

"So busy, I only get to see my dear Emma once a year, I want to sleep with you."

"You just did!" She reminds him.

"No, really sleep with you, not just sex." He pulls her in. Inside the hug, he kisses her. "Plus, we need time to talk. I want to hear all about this year's research and whatever power plant you geeked out over all summer."

"Yeah?" She's starry eyed and weak kneed, again, still.

"Yes, you muppet. I don't miss you all year just because you taste so good." He kissed her then. "Though you do taste better than anyone else."

She takes the compliment, and only thinks about it on a loop all of Christmas Day, and night. She completely forgets about it after she and Harry have tasted each other by noon on Boxing Day. Then he reveals their real first kiss, and Emma is too busy feeling their current kisses and trying to recall details of that Christmas delight while they sneak around and carouse anywhere they can.

He had to leave earlier than last year. And it's not until he's pulled off, from their private goodbye, before his pub send off where they flirt just enough to annoy Gemma, that she thinks about it.

She's not innocent, she saw other people 11 months out of the year, well three, but she couldn't help but wonder, who else was he tasting?

He implied that he had something to compare her to. Even if it was favorable, she found it bothered her. A lot.

She could ask him; instead she decides to just remember his taste and his interest, it'll have to carry her through until next yule.

It's not her business, it's too far down a road not taken anyway.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #tis the damn season #chapter three #jingle bell rock me

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whorefordazai · 3 years

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hi! could I request a match up if you still do them (oh and by advance, I'm sorry for the following mistakes)

I'm capricorn; my pronouns are she/they; I'm a little bit overweight and my large waist rlly make me insecure and I'm short (5'1) :'D.

like: I'm basic :|, I like drawing, reading manga, watching bsd on repeat instead of doing something of my life. I love photography and I could listen to vocaloid, old french singer and 80's band non stop (queen and a abba supremacy🛐).

dislike: ....idk..ah yes: school system 🕺 like why should I work, I'm superior to these dumn mortals 🙄☝️ (my 17 missings assignments could confirm). and sport, exept volley and swimming.

aesthetic: vintage aesthetic (but the cool one yk, not the cringy Facebook one 🤸‍♀️🕳)

personality: pls- this'll be long- like I've two faces, the 'don't talk to me, it'll be ackward otherwise' and the 'goofy and silly one that must. be funny and eccentric. I'm lazy, but more the 'no more motivation' side that the 'procrastinating' one. oh and I crave for validation. every. singe. minutes. I'm also a very honest and short tempered person with maybe too much overthinking 🎷🐛.

btw, I'm bi but I'd rather been matched up with a guy if u don't mind?

pls I'm so sorry for all the mistakes ;-; I've made and remember to drink and sleep >:( <3 I also love your blog, it's one of the thew things that keep me smiling :)

I match you with...

Nakajima Atsushi! ´ˎ˗

👾 he definitely enjoys your eccentric personality because sometimes he can be a bit of a pessimist. he likes when he’s in a bad mood, and just one look at you will put a smile on his face. it’ll literally warm his heart. he thinks of you as his light in a world where he doesn’t think he belongs.

👾 he actually has no problem validating or praising you. In fact, he quite likes giving you compliments throughout the day and making you feel good. at first he’ll be a little shy, but once he realizes you like being validated, he won’t hold back. he’ll call you beautiful, compliment your outfit or something you did good during the day. but pls, give him equal praise cuz this man needs it 🥲 no ones ever complimented his hair before (most people say it’s ugly 💔) so if you were to compliment his hair, he’ll melt.

👾 if you randomly take pictures of him, he’ll be a little confused at first. he’ll be like “I’m just sitting here...there’s nothing appealing about that...😅”—no atsushi, everything is appealing about that 🙂 you’d just laugh, place your hands on his cheeks and smile. “you’re just too beautiful to ignore. I gotta take pictures, you know?”—you’ve broken him. he doesn’t know what to say except pull your closer, wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle his face into your neck.

👾 if you ever get lazy or unmotivated, he’ll understand. even tho he’s always trying to help people and trying his best—there’ll be days where neither of you have the energy to get out of bed. if he tries to sluggishly get up, you’d pull him back next to you and say “can we just stay in bed today? I think both of us are too tired.” he’ll hesitate for a moment, but then go back under he covers, resting his head on your chest and closing his eyes. at first he didn’t like taking breaks (because he thought he didn’t deserve them) but he feels better knowing you wanna take breaks with him too :)

SONGS ´ˎ˗

- I wanna be yours | arctic monkeys

- medicine | daughter

- sweater weather | the neighborhood

- yellow | coldplay

- fine line | harry styles

MESSY LAYOUT ´ˎ˗

#event match ups #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd atsushi #atsushi x you #atsushi nakajima

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randowolfwriter · 3 years

Text

Rocking that Solo (Intro)- Hot Dog Dilemma

Just a little one-shot from my self indulgent Older Warners au. Might consider doing more of these if it gets enough interest.

Summary:

A hot dog vendor meets the strangest girl (or puppy) he’s ever seen. Little does he know, she has a few tricks up her sleeve.

She was a weird child. Probably one of the strangest the hot dog vendor had ever seen.

At first, he figured she had really poofy hair tied back with a sparkly heart-shaped hair tie, but then she approached him and saw that it wasn’t hair, but a pair of really large ears. Rabbit ears maybe? Then he noticed that she appeared to be covered in fur, ink-black with the exception of white that covered her entire face with a red nose that looked awfully a lot like a cat’s. When she smiled, he noticed tiny little fangs that made up her canines, and when she stepped back for a bit, he noticed that she wasn’t wearing any shoes—she didn’t need any. Giant white paws were what she walked on all day, much bigger than her front paws that looked more like hands. Then the key indicator of her strange appearance was that she had a tail, a long black one that was hard to determine whether it better belonged on a cat or a monkey. She could have been an animal that just escaped from the zoo had she not been wearing a giant purple sweater with a jean skirt and asking him tons of questions like any girl her age would ask.

Yes, this indeed was the strangest little girl the vendor had ever seen, and yet, this wasn’t the first time she had visited him that day.

“You seem like a pretty cool guy,” She beamed through what appeared to be a Liverpool accent. “I’d love to have your job.”

“What are you doing back here?” The vendor barked. “Didn’t I tell you to get lost?”

“But I know where I am, so how can I get lost?” The girl inferred.

“I told you, I’m not bringing down the price of a dog.”

“But ten dollars is a little much, don’t you think? If I ran a hot dog cart, I would give everyone in the world a hot dog, and then I’d have the rest for myself.”

“Listen, little girl?” The vendor leaned over, trying to size himself up in order to intimidate her. “Are you gonna buy a dog or what? I haven’t got all day.”

Not once did she flinch from the vendor’s harsh demeanor, instead she kept smiling with a glimmer in those dark beady eyes of hers. “Well, I probably won’t since they’re so pricey. I just thought you should know that one of your cart’s wheels is missing.”

“What?”

The vendor tried to examine the wheel from where he leaned, but unfortunately, he couldn't. It was one of the front ones, which led him to move his lazy self to examine it. Clear as afternoon it was missing, despite it was there this morning when he wheeled the cart through the park. He only had a few customers that day, and none had bothered to mess with those wheels. In conclusion, it seemed that not only was this little girl strange, but she was also a wheel thief.

“Alright, where is it?” He grumbled.

“What?” The little girl asked coyly.

“The wheel? What did you do with it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” He could hear his voice raise at the girl’s bewildered expression. “I know you have it!”

“I swear I don’t-- well, I mean I don’t swear because Daddoo says it’s not nice to swear-- but I know I don’t have it. Here, I’ll show you.”

She then reached into the pockets of her skirt and pulled out a bunch of trinkets and trash she had collected over time. “See, I have a bobby pin, two pennies, a piece of lint, a heart sticker…"

As the vendor was preoccupied with the girl, another child appeared behind the hot dog cart. Just like the little girl, he had long ears that drooped like a puppy’s, white fur on his face that covered his black fur like a mask, a red nose, and beady black eyes that made him look more animal than human. The only distinction that he was more human than animal was a green sweatshirt he wore (yet he didn’t wear any pants.) The boy stuck out his tongue nervously as he watched the little girl prattle on to the hot dog vendor about the items in her pockets; it seemed like she had a lot for just two measly pockets.

Seeing that the vendor was distracted, the boy began piling hot dog packs, bratwurst packs, hot dog bun packs, small bags of potato chips, soda cans, anything he could get his paws on and threw them into a random sack that he pulled out of nowhere. Well, more like from behind him. But how he made a sack appear from nothing was really something.

Meanwhile, the girl did everything she could to keep the vendor’s attention on her at all times.

“See, I don’t have it. I only take things that can fit in my pockets,” she explained.

“Fine, so you don’t have it,” the vendor grumbled once more. “But how is it that it hasn’t been missing all day, and then suddenly you show up, and it’s gone?”

“Don’t know. Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

The boy was taking an awfully long time. Every time he grabbed a hot dog packet or a bratwurst packet, his stomach lurched – the thought of eating meat was the bane of his existence.

Suddenly, the mustard bottle slipped out of his paws just as he reached for it, and rolled right in front of the girl and the vendor. To make matters even more awkward, the vendor stepped on the bottle and it squirted a dark yellow onto the pavement.

“Huh? How did that get there…” The vendor turned and finally noticed the boy. The boy let out a startled gasp and shivered where he stood.

“Um, hey! Wanna see me do a dance?” The girl chirped, trying to divert the vendor’s attention back to her. She then performed a couple of twirls seeing if that'd work, but it was too late. The vendor had already noticed the thief at his stand, her partner in crime.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!” The boy immediately closed the sack and scrambled out of there. “You have to pay for that!”

“Run, Smakko!” The girl cried as she raced after him. As the boy sped off like a frightened hare and the girl caught up to him in seconds, it was clear that the two were related.

Twins.

She was the distraction, and he was what the hot dog vendor should have been looking out for. Now here they were, little dog-monkey rascals that were better off locked up in a zoo than running away with his product.

“When I get my hands on you two, I’ll make sure you’ll get what’s coming to you!” He roared after them.

“But you have to catch us first!” The girl shouted with a giggle.

All through the park, the vendor chased after them. The chase felt like it went on for hours with the kids’ insane energy and the vendor’s determination to get his product back. It wasn’t until the kids ran smack dab into an officer minding his own business that they were finally caught. Immediately upon collision, he grabbed the two kids by the scruff of their clothes and held them up like noisy kittens, mostly pertaining to the girl who kicked in defiance while the boy hung there like a wet rag.

“Are these two giving you any trouble?” The officer spoke in what also appeared to be a deep Liverpool accent. He sounded a little like Ringo Starr. For some reason, upon hearing the officer's voice, the girl settled down.

“You bet! Those mongrels there stole my hot dogs!” The vendor exclaimed, pointing a large index finger at the two.

“Not like you were using it anyway,” The girl spat.

“Those two need to be taken back to the zoo where they belong!”

“No worries, sir. I’ll take care of them,” The large officer said, eyeing each of them with a stern glare. “Now give the man back his dogs.”

The boy then handed the vendor the giant sack. It seemed lighter than what he thought it would be. “Well appreciated, officer,” the vendor thanked.

He gave the vendor a small wave, “No need for thanks. All in a day’s work." Then he gave the kids another stern glare. "Let’s go, pups.”

For some reason, as the officer walked off with the two kids curled in his arms, they seemed too content for having just been apprehended. Well, the boy still had that fearful look in his eyes as if it was stuck that way, but the look on the girl’s face was one that was not expected; she seemed too happy.

The further the vendor walked away from them, the more he realized that the officer himself looked kind of strange. He looked like any other big officer just patrolling the city and keeping the neighborhood peace, yet then he remembered his face...something was off about it. It was pale, almost like it was covered in fur, he had a big red nose, and he had beady black eyes, just like those kids…

Suddenly, he stopped and opened the sack to find that his cart’s product wasn't in there, just a bunch of stuffed rubber dogs that squeaked.

He’d been duped. Those weird kids and that weird officer were all related and they made off with his hot dogs. He wasn’t going to let them get away with it that easily. The vendor ran right up to them, his face red as the ketchup bottles that were just stolen.

“Thieves!” He screamed at them. “Who do you think you are?”

The officer then stopped and set the kids down, “Well, I know for a fact that I’m no Bizzie.”

Suddenly, he tore off the hat to reveal pierced dog-like ears sticking out of a baseball cap that looked like it had been beaten up over the years, especially with that giant bite mark that ate half its bill. Long unkempt black fur-- or it might have been hair-- flowed past his shoulders, while some even jutted out from his hat. Underneath the uniform, he wore a blue sweater covered with a brown leather jacket, torn jeans, and giant white paws that he walked upon just like the two kids. In likeness, this man could have been a rock star had he not had the black and white puppy-dog face like the kids and stuck out his tongue to compliment the look.

“What are you?!” The vendor shuddered in bewilderment. He couldn’t decide whether he was some mutated dog or probably the ugliest man he had ever seen.

“Why he’s my Daddoo, silly!” The girl giggled. “I’m Jojo,” then she pointed towards the boy identical to her, “and this is my brother, Smakko." Then she held out her arms and posed, while her brother seemed hesitant to follow suit. "And we’re the Warner twins!"

“I don’t care if you were the Olsen twins. I demand that you give me back my hot dogs this instant!"

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” the man referred to as ‘Daddoo’ asked, “but that wouldn’t happen to be your cart, is it?”

The vendor then turned to see his hot dog cart speeding right towards them. Without a moment to react, the vendor was hit right with the cart and sent flying down the path while the father and his children moved to the side just in time. Luckily for the vendor, the cart didn’t go right into the busy streets of downtown traffic, but it did crash him into a nearby tree, causing the poor man to see hotdogs flying over his head.

“Look sir, your wheel came back,” Jojo pointed out.

“Yes, I see that,” the vendor said dizzily, then passed out.

“Naughty kids,” the father scolded, “who taught you such awful manners?” Then a giant smile appeared on his face, his tongue sticking out once more.

“Now what do you say to the nice man?”

“Thanks for the hot dogs, sir!” Jojo thanked with a wave.

“Thank you,” The boy named Smakko only muttered.

The hot dog vendor perked up from his short comatose just as the father, with both of his strange puppy kids, the girl clinging to him like a koala and the boy clutching the bag filled with his product, walked away. No doubt about it, this was a horrible day, both personally and economically.

But really, why did it matter? The vendor's cart was surprisingly okay, despite the crash and the strange reappearance of the wheel. Not to mention, there was a lot more product than what the family made off with, but losing those profits was going to hurt him. He'd have to lower the price of those dogs, and bratwursts, and basically everything at his cart just to make up for the stolen product.

He went to authorities about it, but all they did was laugh, except for one, who seemed to shake in his seat at the mere mention of puppy-kids. Like they were going to be any help.

Eventually, the hot dog vendor had to shrug off this brash occurrence and continue with his business. People were still going to want hot dogs, and unfortunately be desperate enough to pay ten bucks for it.

However, this strange moment like a fly in the ear returned to him one day when he was visiting his family. His nieces and nephews were busy watching an old cartoon that he remembered was on when he was a kid called “Animaniacs,” which was considered one of the greatest cartoons of the decade. Of course, he didn’t think much of it now that he was a man in his thirties, but during this particular viewing, there was something that stood out to him.

The three main kids, with those long ears, black-furred with pale white faces, those red noses, and those beady black eyes…they looked exactly like the kids that harassed him at the park. Not to mention, the boy wearing the baseball cap looked exactly like the timid boy who barely spoke a word during their encounter. The boy in the show brimmed with confidence compared to the shy nature of the boy who had the gall to steal his hotdogs, yet had his sister do most of the talking.

Then another thought occurred to him. The father of those two children also wore a blue sweater, and his head was covered with a red cap similar to the boy’s in the show, except his was worn with age. Then there was that smile, that puppy-dog-looking face with his pink tongue sticking out as if to distract from the fact that he was a freak of nature. He also brimmed with tons of confidence. How could anyone go out in public looking the way he did, with that long unkempt hair, those piercings that bit at his ears, and the strange rock star vibe he gave off just by being near him?

No, it couldn't be. But maybe?

Could possibly the middle child, the hungriest, the quietest, and the wackiest of the Warner trio next to his chatty older brother and his sassy younger sister might have grown up into the man he encountered at the park? That strange man with his strange children who were also giant troublemakers like he was. Could possibly the father of those two twins might have been…

Wakko Warner?

#animaniacs #rocking that solo #wakko warner #jojo warner #smakko warner #animaniacs 2020 #older warners au #animaniacs ocs #abbs writings

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

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David x Patrick; 3300 words this chapter; 21k so far. A03.

Summary: Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him. After a rom-com worthy reunion, David decides he won't walk away again.

Chapter 7

David wakes early and slides out of bed without looking at Patrick; if he starts mooning over him now, it will make it that much harder to get up.

He is soon outside in the early morning chill, watching the patchy fog dissipate as he runs along man-made waterways. He knows it’s all manufactured, designed to entice retirees into spending their golden years sitting on a patio here instead of in whatever snowbound northern location they earned their 401k in, but it’s pretty nonetheless.

David does a few loops of Patrick’s neighborhood and then ventures out past the gates onto a busier commercial street. The suburbs look the same as in any medium-sized town, albeit with a slightly sunnier vibe. He passes a pizza place, a sketchy looking nail salon, and a hardware store, and then pauses when a sweet, yeasty scent floods his senses. Following his nose, he heads down a side street where a nondescript sign advertises freshly baked bread and pastries.

Inside the shop, David stands and breathes deeply, then takes his time selecting a bag full of treats. He’s not even upset about interrupting his run, everything smells so good. It’s all he can do not to taste each of them on his way back (although he does allow himself one little chouquette – it’s been forever since he’s had a decent French sugar puff).

Back at the house, David leaves the pastries in the kitchen while he showers and gets dressed. Only when he’s completely ready for the day, pastries arranged in a basket and coffee made, does he allow himself to return to the bedroom. To Patrick.

It’s not creepy, he tells himself. It’s allowed. Patrick is curled up on his side, one hand under his pillow and the other tucked under his chin. The bruise on his temple is almost gone, just a faint yellow-green tinge remaining, and his stitches don’t look nearly as ghastly as they did a few days ago. Patrick’s hair is short – still the same way he used to keep it – so it won’t take long at all for the area around the cut to fill back in, although David thinks he may have a lingering scar.

David’s still not clear on how the head injury happened, and letting his imagination run wild (an impact against something sharp when he was knocked down?) is disturbing. He thinks back to what Patrick told him yesterday about the attack, downplaying it as a bar fight, as partially Patrick’s fault for being drunk and stupid. He knows Patrick can have a temper in the right (or wrong) circumstances, but it still doesn’t make a lot of sense to him. David doesn’t think he’s being overly dramatic to say that Patrick is traumatized. No matter what Patrick said, he didn’t ask to have his ribs broken and his head sliced open.

David is seized with the overwhelming need to protect Patrick. There’s a sadness in Patrick’s eyes now that pains him, and he’s not sure that he’s equipped to take it away, not when David himself caused some of that pain. But moments of happiness have emerged over the past few days, little smiles and tentative laughter. It’s a start.

David slides under the covers and scoots close to Patrick, then leans in and presses a soft kiss to his forehead, letting his hand rest gently on Patrick’s t-shirt clad shoulder. Patrick snuffles adorably and scrunches his face up, so David kisses him again, this time on his nose, resulting in more adorable scrunching.

Patrick blinks a few times and then focuses on David. “Morning?” He reaches out and flops his hand on David’s waist.

“Um, yes. Almost ten.”

Patrick blinks some more. “Hi.”

David smiles at him. “Seems like you slept well?”

“Yeah, actually.” Patrick closes his eyes and leans his head against David’s face. “Thanks.”

“Not sure it was my doing, but I’m glad.” David kisses Patrick’s scratchy cheek, then his lips.

Patrick kisses back, sleepy and soft, then rolls to his back. “Do I smell coffee?”

“You do. And…” David twists around and presents Patrick with the basket of pastries. “Breakfast.”

Patrick sits up, wincing, and David tucks him up against his body, one arm stretching around Patrick’s waist.

“These look great,” Patrick says, curious. “Did you go shopping again?”

“Found them on my run. Try this one – it’s chocolate <i>and</i> pistachio.” David can’t help being excited, even though it’s silly, but Patrick is smiling and happy and if baked goods are doing it, he’s not going to complain.

Patrick takes a bite, then another, and finally gets to the filling, his face stretching with a smile. “Oh god, this is amazing.”

“Right?” David kisses Patrick on the corner of his mouth, tasting the flakes of croissant.

“Here,” Patrick hands the pastry to David and takes another out of the basket. “Is this one almond?”

“What gave it away, the almonds on the top?”

“Funny, you’re very funny.”

They make their way through the basket, trading bits and pieces of each pastry. David finally gives up and starts breaking them open so he can get to the good parts.

“This one’s apple,” he says, showing Patrick. “Fruit is healthy.”

“Definitely a healthy breakfast,” Patrick replies. “Right up there with pizza and beer.”

“I’m offended that you would compare pastries made with imported French butter to pizza and beer. Take that back or I won’t let you taste the apricot one.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Patrick grins and nibbles at David’s fingers. There are flakes of pastry everywhere, and David’s skin is sticky with glaze and sugar, and he could not care less, not when Patrick is warm and safe next to him and smiling up a storm.

After a while they have eaten their fill of the croissants, and Patrick sags back against David, groaning. “That was delicious.”

“You’re delicious.” David rubs Patrick’s tummy, a little bit of softness just above the waist of his sleep pants. Patrick hums and twists his head, meeting David’s lips in a sugar-sweet kiss.

“Thank you for breakfast,” Patrick says softly, kissing David again, and then sighing as he tips his head back. “But this kind of ruined my plans.”

David tucks his chin over Patrick’s shoulder and nuzzles his ear. “What plans were those?”

“I thought we’d drive over to the next town, it’s significantly more interesting. There are some nice architectural features, a few gift shops and boutiques, and a little bistro I wanted to take you to for lunch. I think you’d like it.”

“So how exactly does our spur of the moment pastry feast interfere with these promising plans?”

“I’m stuffed. Not exactly conducive to going out for lunch.”

“Patrick, even if we hurry, lunch is still hours away. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” David rubs at Patrick’s shoulders and pushes at him. “At least, if you can manage to get out of bed and get dressed. I’ll throw the sheets into the wash while you get ready.”

Patrick shoots him a strange look, and David points to the scattering of croissant debris spread out around them. “I can put up with a little bit of a mess for spontaneity’s sake, but I’m not sleeping in a pile of crumbs tonight.”

As David gathers up the sheets, he thinks he knows what Patrick’s odd look was for. Generally speaking, when they washed their linens in the past, it was due to somewhat less G rated activities than breakfast in bed. He hopes Patrick isn’t worried about what they’ve been up to (or not up to) physically. Given that they’ve only been back together for less than three full days, along with Patrick’s injuries, it seems utterly reasonable that they’ve been keeping it PG.

He knows Patrick has always seen sex in a more black and white light than David has. For David, being with Patrick over the past few days has been more than enough. The intimacy they have shared isn’t about sex, and doesn’t have to be – it’s being vulnerable together, holding each other through painful confessions and whispered reassurances. It’s Patrick casually touching David’s waist when he walks by. It’s how David’s hands flutter towards Patrick’s shoulders, and how Patrick looks at him when they land.

David thinks maybe they should talk about it, though. God knows he’s given Patrick confusing signals before – he’s probably never going to live down the whole sleepover mishap when the guy died in the motel.

He goes out by the pool to make sure his outfit is suitable for today’s planned outing – it’s gotten warmer and the fog has all burned away, but there’s still a bit of chill in the air. He thinks his white and black Christopher Kane sweater will be fine, it’s on the thin side and rather fitted, and if he’s honest with himself, shows off his shoulders quite nicely.

David smiles at the thought of Patrick planning an activity for them. It’s shaping up to be quite a wonderful day. And there was even a mention of boutiques…

He takes out his phone to scope out whether any of the shops might actually stock something he would want to buy, and realizes that Alexis has sent him increasingly frantic texts. And as if thinking about her has actually called her into being, his phone rings.

“What?”

“David. You promised.”

“Promised what?”

“Didn’t you read my texts?”

“Obviously not.” David sits down on one of the lounge chairs, after giving the floral cushion a quick sweep with his hand to make sure there aren’t any fire ants or other sneaky creatures lingering about. Clearly Alexis has something on her mind, he might as well get comfortable.

“The Haute Tea presentation got moved up to <i>tomorrow,</i> and you promised you would help me with it.”

“That was supposed to be next month.”

“Well, it’s not, and Koharu already emailed me twice to make sure you had blessed the key design elements.”

“You told Koharu I was helping you?” Koharu had been an exchange student from Japan when David met her in high school. Now she is the CEO of one of the fastest growing and most creative restaurant groups in the Seattle area.

“Yes, David, how did you think I got the account?” Alexis’ voice is rising into the stratosphere, and David holds the phone away from his ear and takes a deep breath.

“Okay, Alexis, okay, calm down.”

“How can I be calm when you’re ignoring me at one of the most important moments in my career?”

“Given how eager Koharu is to work with me, isn’t it actually one of the most important moments in my career?”

“David!”

“Fine, fine. Give me a few minutes to get set up and I’ll call you back. Send me what you’ve got in the meantime.”

There is a silence from the other end of the phone, and then Alexis speaks, her voice gone quiet. “Really?”

“Of course.” He had promised to help her, and he isn’t going to go back on his word, not with Alexis. Besides, he actually has several very promising ideas for the Haute Tea branding line. Between the two of them, they can generate a dazzling powerpoint presentation in a solid afternoon of work.

The moment he hangs up the phone, however, David realizes his mistake. “Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.”

“What’s wrong?” asks Patrick, coming out onto the lanai. David tilts his head back and recites “shit” again in his head another dozen times.

“I got a call from Alexis.”

“Everything okay?” Patrick sits down on the other lounger, his jean-clad knees knocking into David’s.

“Yes. Well, no, but nothing dire.”

“What’s up?”

“I promised Alexis I’d help her with a client pitch, and it got moved up. So I can’t go to the cute town with you today.”

Patrick looks briefly disappointed, then his face smooths out and he nods. “No problem, I understand.”

“I’d much rather hang out with you, you know that, right?” David leans over and takes one of Patrick’s hands in his. “I’m sorry to mess up your plans.”

Patrick’s eyes flit around, landing somewhere by David’s shoulder, and David feels his stomach sink. Patrick doesn’t believe him. He thinks David is blowing him off.

“What, um,” Patrick starts, then shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“What?” David shifts to sit next to Patrick. “I mean it. I was excited about our afternoon, the shopping and the food…”

“I know, I know you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to check out a new restaurant for no reason. It’s just…”. Patrick lets out a breath and takes his hand out of David’s, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t think Alexis likes me very much.”

Oh. David must be staring at Patrick with his mouth open, because Patrick huffs out a sad laugh.

“You don’t have to come up with a response to that, David. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not your problem.”

David can feel his face scrunch up. “How is it not my problem?”

“I messed things up with her, I’ll have to figure out how to fix it.”

David tugs Patrick’s hands back into his own. “We messed things up with each other. Alexis was merely an unfortunate casualty.”

Patrick stands up and pulls David up with him. “Regardless, do what you need to do to help her out. The bistro will still be there tomorrow.”

“Will it?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” Patrick brushes a sweet, toothpaste-y kiss across David’s lips, and David smiles into it.

“Mmm,” he says, pulling away but keeping his hands draped on Patrick’s shoulders. “More of that later, perhaps?”

Patrick actually blushes – blushes! – and ducks his head. “Sure.”

After another moment of awkward adorableness where David steals a few more kisses, Patrick suggests that David use his parents’ office. David plugs in his laptop, facetimes Alexis on his phone, and they get to work.

It’s not the first time they’ve partnered up on one of Alexis’ many projects, especially where she veers into marketing. David enjoys the chance to stretch his design skills, and it’s a lot more interesting than the Rose Apothecary sourcing work, which has frankly gotten fairly routine at this point.

Haute Tea is a high-end tea shop that is struggling to build its brand recognition, especially when it comes to competing against the zillions of coffee shops that also happen to sell tea. They asked Alexis for a plan that would help them bring new energy to their brand and promote their unique strengths.

David thinks their logo needs an update, and he shoots some of his design ideas over to Alexis. “They need to make sure people don’t get them confused with ‘ye olde tea shoppe’ stores. Nothing British, nothing floral, no scones with clotted cream.”

“No Liberty prints?” asks Alexis.

“Exactly.”

They work on some sleek, modern designs, black and white with a bit of color, and think about coordinating ways in which to update the company’s website. Kokuro doesn’t want to lean into her Japanese heritage, which David thinks is a shame, but then again the name of the company is in French, so there’s that.

They finish up, David agreeing to look over the final slide deck after Alexis makes a few more edits and sends it to him later. He thinks they did pretty well and is curious to see if Kokuro agrees. He wouldn’t mind doing more work with her in the future. If Rose Apothecary was still an independent business, he could see them featuring her teas.

“Thank you, David,” Alexis says. “I’m sure it was hard to pull yourself away from Patrick, now that you guys have miraculously fixed everything.”

There’s a tone in Alexis’ voice that David doesn’t care for. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Alexis twirls her hair around her finger. David thinks it’s remarkable that she has any left, given how often she does this. “Nothing, David.”

“Okay…”

“Just – you were awfully mad at him, for an awfully long time. It seems pretty convenient that you run into him a few days ago and now everything is magically okay. Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

David feels a pang of doubt, but he’s also insulted. “That’s my business, not yours.”

“It was my business when you cried on my shoulder for all those months, and when you threw out my French press because it reminded you of the one Patrick bought you, and when you made me delete all those pictures from my phone-”

“Fine,” David interrupts, not at all interested in going over all of this again. “I will remember not to come to you for emotional support in the future.”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Alexis whines.

“What exactly are you saying, then?”

Alexis lets out a breath and shakes her head. “You made me so angry with him,” Alexis says softly. “He hurt you. You guys had something really good, and he ruined it.”

“It wasn’t all his fault,” David says, hoping he doesn’t have to go into more detail.

“I knew that,” Alexis says, and David rolls his eyes because it’s just like Alexis to pretend she knows better than him, even now.

“You didn’t.”

“David, fine. Whatever. Anyway, whosever fault it was, I saw what losing him did to you,” Alexis goes on, looking at him so earnestly through the screen that David has to duck his head. “That night in the Hamptons… I can’t go through that again, David. You can’t either.”

“That won’t happen again,” David says, a sick punch in his gut at the memory.

“But how do you know?”

“I know because I’m working on it, Alexis, every day.” David fights to stay calm. He understands why his family is still questioning him, even almost three years later, but he wishes they’d have a little more faith.

“David, it’s just that… your break-up with Patrick wasn’t anything like your other break-ups. It was more than mall pretzel level damage. Just thinking about it makes my insides hurt. I still have all of these icky, upset feelings.” She waves her hands around. “And I didn’t get a cathartic rom-com reunion at the airport, or any apology kisses.” She punctuates her words with her finger, pointing at him accusingly. “What am I supposed to do now, just do a three-sixty for no reason?”

“One-eighty,” David corrects automatically. “And there is a reason. The best reason.” Patrick, he thinks. A chance to be together again.

“I know….” she says, dragging the word out into a whine. “But it’s your reason, not mine. Ugh, this is so aggravating.”

“He misses you too,” David says, the words coming out of nowhere. He knows it’s true as soon as he says it.

There’s a pause, and then Alexis says, sadly, “That doesn’t help.”

Later that night, David finally finishes one last review of the Haute Tea presentation and sends it back to Alexis. He’s in bed with his laptop, Patrick lying next to him, curled up under the blankets and snoring softly. David was too busy to even worry about whether Patrick was upset about their current level of physical activity until long after Patrick fell asleep; that issue is going to have to wait for another day.

He also didn’t get a chance to talk to Patrick about Alexis. David has certainly put a lot of energy into hating on Alexis’ exes after painful splits, and he thinks he understands how hard it can be to forgive someone for hurting a person you love, although it makes him uncomfortable to focus too hard on what that means about how much Alexis cares about him.

David hopes he can find a way to mend the relationship between Patrick and Alexis. They were close, family, and they deserve to have that back. And if David can figure that out, maybe there’s hope for him and Stevie, too.

He sets his laptop aside and slides under the covers, beaming to himself as Patrick pulls him close, seeking him out even in sleep. They can really do this, he thinks. It’s a chance he never thought he’d have, but it’s here, and David is going to make the most of it.

#Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic #David x Patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

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Laying in Wait (Indruck)

The prompt for the third was:Legend of Hag Hill

When you’ve lived somewhere your whole life, you develop one of two relationships with local legends: complete and utter belief, or the belief that the legend is utter bullshit.

For Duck, Hag Hill is solidly in that second category. Weird lights, sudden, disorienting fog, ghostly laughter; he’s hid out on the hill smoking or making out or killing time and never seen any of it, no matter how dark the sky is when he’s there.

He’s here for a slightly new reason tonight, as some kids from his Comp 101 class at Kepler Community College asked if he wanted to hang out and pull some mild pranks on the hill. Sure, hardly anyone comes on it this time of year, because Halloween looming on the horizon always gives the tales about the hill more substance in people’s minds. He mentioned this, hoping he could sway them towards a night at the Wolfe Bar and Grille or maybe just chilling in someone’s apartment or dorm, rather than freezing their asses off on a hillside, but they all insisted. So here they’ve sat, for over an hour, under a midnight moon, with not a soul passing by.

Then again, what else would he be doing? Sitting in his shitty apartment, swearing at the heater and watching some late night, bargain bin movie? The only thing he likes doing at home he can do here. Well, kind off. Odds are the other guys would complain if he started jerking off.

See, there’s this guy in his entomology class. Tall, with a weird face and a weirder demeanor, and only taking the class because he needs to fulfill his breadth requirements. He sits at the back next to Duck, didn’t say a word to him until two weeks ago, when he asked if Duck would help him study for the upcoming quiz. Duck assumed it was because he was the closest person to ask, but once they sat down in the coffee shop on H Street, it became clear that Indrid, his new study buddy, had another reason.

“Thank you for agreeing to help me. You, ah, you clearly know your stuff.”

“How the fuck can you tell?” He barely spoke in class.

“I see you filling in the slides with the correct answers well before the professor says them. You know some of this already.”

“You gotta know a decent amount about bugs if you wanna work for the forest service.” He mumbles, bracing for the Smokey the Bear joke.

“Oh! Oh of course, that makes perfect sense. I imagine invasive species, and symbiotic ones, are of interest in that field.”

They hadn't gotten to the notes for the quiz, because Duck got going about invasive insects, which lead to a discussion of moths, which lead to Indrid showing him his Deaths Head Moth tattoo, proudly explaining he’d designed it himself. They met at the cheap Chinese buffet the next night, and did actually study between trading stories about how they came to be in Kepler. Indrid laughed at once point, dyed-silver hair catching the warm light in the dim room, and Duck suddenly found that strange face strangely handsome.

It’s nice to have a crush, it’s been awhile since he had one on a guy who might one day reciprocate. He’s pretty sure Indrid’s been checking him out this week. It’s hard to tell with those red glasses he wears.

“Fucking finally.” Colton, he’s pretty sure that’s the guys name, shushes them into position, shattering Duck’s fantasizing.

“Can’t believe he fell for it.” Says the guy next to Duck

“I’m a pretty smooth talker when I wanna be” Colton whispers.

Duck suddenly has a bad feeling about this, tries to back up only to snap a stick and have Colton grab his arm.

“Hello?” A voice carries from the other side of the outcropping of grey stones.

“What the fuck man, let go.” Duck hisses, leaves rustling under his feet.

“I really hope that is a deer.” The voice mutters.

“Now.” Colton pops up, dragging Duck with him, all the boys letting out their most blood-chilling screams.

There’s a responding yelp, followed by a cry of pain as their victim falls backwards into bramble. Duck recognizes the pink and yellow sweater as soon as he sees it, and his heart tries to crawl out his toes when the frightened gaze lands on him.

“You get it?” Colton looks to his left, where one of his friends is holding up his phone.

“Yep. Fuck, man, you really think we’d invite you to chill with us up here? You’re such a fuckin weirdo.”

Indrid doesn’t even look at the others, his eyes remaining on Duck.

“Is, is that what you truly think of me?”

“Pfft, see, this is what I mean. That weird way of talking, those glasses, even heard you talking to yourself, which is even fuckin weirder than that thing you do with your hands.”

Duck likes it when Indrid flaps his hands; it means he’s excited, and an excited, happy Indrid is a sight he’s rapidly grown to adore.

Without a word, he grabs the offending phone, deleting the video before the others register what's happening.

“What the fuck?”

“You wanna see a funny prank? Fetch, dipshit” He hurls the phone as far as it will go, the others flipping him off and calling him every name under the sun as they run after it.

Indrid is gone when he turns back, but he’s in time to see a flash of color disappear around the next curve in the trail. The taller man is picking thorns from his sweater, and freezes when he hears Duck’s footsteps.

“I swear, if you try anything like that again, I will push you down the hill.”

“‘Drid” Duck reaches out, touching his arm to stop him, “I’m so fuckin sorry, I had no idea that’s what they were plannin, I thought we were hanging around to do some silly jumpscare on anyone walkin by, not that they fuckin lured you out here.”

Indrid is clearly contemplating pushing him down the hill anyway.

“C’mon, I’m tellin the truth. Remember what happened the last time I tried to lie?”

The other man blinks, then snickers, “Ah yes, the abysmal attempt to blame cockroaches for your missing homework.”

“I’m still real fuckin sorry. And, uh, I deleted the video. Hope that phone broke on the rock when I threw it.”

Indrid raises an eyebrow, “Valiant.”

“Hush, I’m tryin to help.”

“I know.” He grins a little wider, “it's a pity, I’ve never lived in a place with a haunted hill before. I was looking forward to observing it with friends.”

“Eh, you ain’t missin much. Place is about as haunted as my apartment.”

Indrid elbows him playfully “Come now, don’t ruin my fun. Is it true people have seen strange lights?”

“That's what they say.”

“And that you get lost in a fog never to be seen again.”

“It's a tiny hill in the grand scheme of things. Hard to get that lost. Uh, where are you goin, by the way?”

“Back to my car.”

“But the parking lot’s-” he turns, finds low, thick fog behind him, “thataway?”

“I thought it was this--oh, oh dear.” The fog is all around them, seeping into Duck’s skin.

“Okay, uh, well, we now it’s at the bottom of the hill, so all we gotta do is follow the slope.”

“...What slope?”

“The fuck?” The ground is flat, no matter how far he feels out with his feet.

“I propose we keep walking until we either get out of the fog or find the road.” He seems incredibly calm.

“Good, uh, good plan.” He falls in just behind him, keeps his ears open for cars or other signs of life. He’s starting to worry, gets so distracted by it that he collides with Indrid’s back.

“Duck, are the lights associated with Hag Hill red and orange, by chance?”

“Yep.”

Indrid points to where two lights hover in the distant, dark fog, like the eyes of a waiting beast.

“Well, fuck.”

“Run!” Indrid shoves him back the way they came, sprinting behind him on his long legs. It isn’t even two minutes before they hit a dead end.

“What the fuck, this cliff bit is on the other side of the fuckin hill from where we were!”

“Somehow I doubt the spirits care where we began, merely where we end up. Quickly, down here.” He tugs Duck behind a large, dying tree, the two of them huddling close together.

“Dare I ask what happens to people who see the lights?”

“Never seen again.”

A bitter chuckle, “of course.” Indrid scrubs his hands up his face, tilting his glasses up as he does. Then he hisses, “Ouch, damn it all” and pulls a thorn from his finger, “gah, it still stings.”

“Here, lemme see.” Duck gently takes his wrist, “huh, yeah, looks like you got it, so at least it ain’t gonna fester. As for the sting..” Quickly, he dips his head and kisses the skin. Looks up to find Indrid blinking his brown eyes in confusion.

“What was the purpose of that?”

“To, uh, to make you feel better?”

“Are you trying to flirt right now?”

“No, uh, fuck, uh, I mean, I, uh, fuck, Indrid, if we’re gonn get eaten by ghosts or some shit, there’s somethin I wanna do.”

With that, he grabs Indrid’s forearms and pulls him forward, kissing him. Indrid sighs against his lips, then hums happily as Duck works his way into his lap. He growls a little and Indrid shivers, breaks the kiss to nip and kiss at his neck while Duck brings his fingers up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles before drawing the pricked finger between his lips and sucking.

“Duck” Indrid purrs, nuzzling his cheek.

“Right here, darlin.”

Chills skitter up his spine and Indrid goes dead still in his arms, eyes wide as they stare over his shoulder.

“Oh dear, our apologies young gentlemen.” The red light forms into a woman as it speaks, the orange light doing the same. Both are dressed like they belong at a living history museum.

“Yes, we did not know you were lovers. Those for whom our hill was meant.”

“Your hill? But don’t that make you-”

“Hags? Yes, by the language of our fellow townspeople, we were such things due to our magic.”

“I lost my life to them.” The orange-eyed sighs.

“And I mine avenging her. They buried us here, unmarked, not knowing it had always been our favorite space. A space we wished to be for others in love, in our absence.”

“I’m sorry they were so cruel to you.” Indrid says softly.

“In the end we triumphed, our love stronger than death. We live eternally in our beloved hill, they rest uneasy and miserable in their graves.” Red eyes waves her hand, and the fog clears.

“There is your way to town, should you wish to depart now.” Orange eyes smiles, “and if you wish to tarry, around that bend you will find a place better made for privacy.”

“Thats’, uh, that’s mighty generous of you, but I’m gettin cold.”

“And I ought to check on my rats.” Indrid stands, helping Duck up before bowing a bit awkwardly, “thank you both for your, ah, help?”

The women share an enigmatic smile, and then they’re gone.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

“Agreed.”

As they wind their way down to the parking lot, Indrid looks at Duck shyly, “Was your desire to kiss me purely near-death experience related?”

“Nope. Been thinkin about it all week. You, uh, wanna go on a date this weekend? One with less fog and mortal terror?”

“I’d be delighted.” They reach Indrid’s beat-up compact, “would you like a ride home?”

“Sure, thanks ‘Drid.”

Indrid opens his door, then pauses, fingers drumming on the car, “or you could, ah, could spend the night at my place?”

Maybe it’s a leftover adrenaline rush, or maybe it’s just Indrid, but Duck’s suddenly feeling pretty damn brave.

“Hell yeah, darlin. Let’s go.”

#promptober #indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #TAZ amnesty #college au

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logical-little-lies · 4 years

Text

Your Boyfriend’s Cute- Little Vlogs (pt.2)

a/n: I love the fact that this is already receiving support on tumblr and here, and I posted the first chapter like less than twenty four hours ago! it's giving me lots n lots of motivation to brainstorm the plot to this story. just so yk, it's boutta move FAST (aka: lots of timeskips).

chapter summary: Virgil and Roman go to Patton's house for the first time, and Virgil starts to realize why Roman has a crush on Logan. Also, Patton and Virgil film a video for Patton's channel.

Virgil exited the Hot Topic with an extremely positive attitude. He had hit send on a list of things he wanted Roman to get for him, and he was ready to meet Patton. The mall was an outdoor mall, so he quickly scanned the 'workers only' parking spots for Logan. He spotted him, in a dark blue t-shirt that read 'Eldenridge Bookshop' with a little book logo on it. Virgil caught himself admiring Logan's body and face from afar, before snapping out of his (slightly gay) daze. He waved, catching his attention. Logan smiled warmly, and Virgil crossed the parking lot.

"Hello Virgil," Logan held his hand out, and Virgil shook it lightly.

"Very professional," he teased, smiling to show that he was just playing. Roman was right. This man was definitely cute. Logan chuckled.

"Yeah, that's what Patton said," Logan opened the door to the passenger seat on his car, motioning for him to get in. Virgil climbed into the vehicle, the door closing behind him.

Logan walked around the back of the car, getting in on the drivers side. "Buckle your seatbelt, honey," Logan instructed, following the directions himself before starting the car. Virgil did as he said without question, willing himself to stop blushing at the casual use of the word 'honey'.

"How far do you live?" Virgil questioned after a few moments of silence. Logan had pulled out of the parking spot, making his way to the exit of the outdoor mall.

"About ten minutes. Roman wanted to be there when you met Patton, but no doubt, we'll beat him there. Patton's waiting at home,so I'll just record it, yeah?"

Virgil nodded at Logan's words. He had a very caregivery tone, in a stern, but soft way. He could understand why Patton liked him as a caregiver, and why Roman had a crush on him. "Sounds good to me," Virgil smiled.

"So, how was work?" Logan turned onto the main road, tapping his finger against the steering wheel.

"Good, just another day of selling twenty one pilots merch to twelve year old wanna-be emos," Virgil shrugged, causing Logan to laugh lightly.

"I'm guess you used to be one of those emo kids when you were younger?"

"Bitch, I still am. The only difference is that I'm technically an adult."

"Language!" he scolded lightly, speaking in a playful tone.

There was a few beats of silence, Virgil taking the opportunity to look out the window and admire the beautiful weather. "Patton's very excited to see you, he has so many ideas for stuff to do with you."

Logan and Virgil continued on the conversation, distracting Virgil from his excitement for the time being. Suddenly, Logan turned into a neighborhood, and onto a small side street. The two-floored yellow house Virgil saw in many videos was at the end. There were flowers in the front yard. Patton sat on the front porch, and he jumped up when Logan entered the driveway.

"You stay here until I motion you out, I want to make sure I catch this on video," Logan put the car in park, pulling his phone out of his pocket and getting out of the car. Patton awkwardly stood by the door of his house, Logan holding up his phone. Virgil unbuckled, excitedly jumping out of the car when Logan made the motion.

Virgil almost tackled Patton to the ground when he hugged him, jumping into his arms. Right then was when Roman pulled into the driveway behind Logan's car. "I can't believe this, you're actually...here, i-it's crazy."

"I know kiddo, I'm happy to see you too."

Patton held Virgil in a tight hug for at least a minute straight, running his fingers through his hair. Patton was slightly chubby,wearing a very soft light blue sweater. Therefore, he was very cuddleable. Roman and Logan made sure not to interrupt their moment, not speaking until they finally pulled away.

"I'm so happy right now, you have no idea," Virgil smiled, turning and approaching Roman, hugging him.

"Yeah, and this little emo here doesn't get this excited unless he regresses. He tries to keep up his angsty exterior, but he's really just soft."

Virgil playfully glared at him, pretending to be mad at him for the silly teasing. "Come inside," Patton was quick to open his door, welcoming the couple into his home.

"Like I say whenever we video chat, your house is nice as hell," Virgil admired the home.

"Yep. There's so many rooms that we have a normal bedroom, the little bedroom that you see in most of my videos, and a set of extra rooms. Seriously, this place is perfect," Logan sat down on the couch as Patton spoke. Patton disappeared, going up the stairs.

"Where's he going?" Roman pondered, sitting on the couch near Logan.

"Probably to grab the vlogging camera from the little bedroom," Logan replied as Virgil sat down next to his boyfriend. Virgil could've sworn he caught Logan's eyes lingering on Roman before he spoke again.

"Uh, Roman, how are you?" he stumbled upon his words lightly.

"Good," Roman smiled. Virgil saw Patton stop at the bottom of the steps, holding a small camera.

"Logan, is it okay if me and Virgil hang out upstairs? You guys can do whatever you want down here..find some common interests or something."

Logan gave Patton a look Virgil didn't get the chance to decode, automatically fixing his face when Roman looked at him. "That sounds good to me. I get that you guys have known each other forever, and I understand if you wanna spend some time alone," Roman smiled at Patton softly.

Patton came over, grabbing Virgil's hand and pulling him up. He didn't let go, leading him up the stairs. Neither of them said anything until they were in Patton's little room. "First of all," Patton closed the door behind him, moving to pull his tripod out of the corner of the room, "Your boyfriend is cute as hell. Like I knew that before but seeing him in person just confirmed it."

Virgil laughed, "We're all so gay, I swear to god. Your boyfriend is cute too, at least Roman thinks so."

"Roman's poly right? Logan and I are...kind of why I left Logan down there, he's lowkey been crushing on Roman since forever," Patton motioned Virgil over, patting a spot on the edge of the bed, facing the tripod he had set up. Virgil took his spot, watching Patton attach the camera to the setup.

"Yeah, Roman's polyamorous. And that's funny, because Roman has a crush on Logan too," Virgil revealed. The two of them looked at each other and did a fangirl-ish squeal that only best friends could successfully do in sync.

"So, what are we doing for the channel?" Virgil questioned, motioning towards the camera.

"I figured we could just talk about like, how we became friends and stuff. This how thing feels unreal, and I kinda want a video to look back on so I remember how I felt during all this."

Virgil quickly agreed, and without a word, Patton started the camera.

"Hey Kiddos, welcome to my channel: eat a second cookie! Today, I have my friend with me. I've talked about him on my channel before, but this is the first time I actually have him here in person. Please welcome, Virgil!" Patton spoke in an enthusiastic voice, motioning towards Virgil, who waved awkwardly. There was a beat of silence before Patton nudged him.

"Here's where you plug your tumblr and stuff," Patton instructed, breaking the silence.

"Oh," Virgil laughed at himself, "Uh, follow me at anxiousbabey on everything."

Just like that, the two filmed an unscripted video, talking about the first time they talked, telling quite a few stories. It all lead up to the end of the recording, where they talked about how they met.

"Now that we know we live so close, hopefully he'll be on my channel lots n lots. Right, Virge?"

Virgil giggled, nodding a bit. "I hope so! I'm really glad we realized this, I'm so happy y'all have absolutely no idea!"

"Well, I guess that's all for today kiddos! Bye princes, princesses, and enby royalty, please check out my tumblr and instagram, all under eat-a-second-cookie!" Patton held out the word 'cookie' so that his statement rhymed. He finished closing out the video, turning off the camera.

"Y'know, I've been waiting for the day we'd get to finally film a video together."

There was a second of silence before Virgil engulfed him into a hug. "I feel like my life was good before..and now it's perfect. I'm so glad this happened," Virgil mumbled.

"Let's go check on my nerd and your boyfriend," Patton caused Virgil to laugh, taking his hand softly and leading him down the stairs. Virgil didn't know why this act of affection made him blush, because he knew Patton was just generally affectionate, but his cheeks were definitely burning.

"Hey, Vee," Roman looked up from the laptop him and Logan were watching something on.

"Did you guys film anything?" Logan questioned softly, pressing the spacebar on the laptop and closing it.

"Yeah, just a video about like our friendship," Patton shrugged, taking his spot next to Logan. Logan automatically wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

"That's surely gonna be an adorable video," Logan praised, and Patton smiled lightly. "So, you guys are welcome to stay for dinner, or even spend the night if you want to."

Patton nodded in agreement and excitement with Logan's statement. "Ro!" Virgil tapped his shoulder lightly, tilting his head, "Stay pleasee?"

"Is that your little voice I hear?" Roman teased, causing Virgil to pout lightly, shaking his head.

"Awe! I think it is," Patton cooed, "But, can you guys stay, pleasee?"

"I don't know," Roman sighed, "Virgil has work tomorrow."

"Okay? And I can give him a ride in the morning, seriously, you're welcome to spend the night."

Virgil gave puppy dog eyes, pouting to convince his carer. "Stop with the pouty face, I was gonna say yes anyways," he sighed, causing Virgil and Patton to cheer.

That night was gonna be fun.

A/N: There's gonna be a timeskip, like a one-month type gap, where the four leave the awkward stage and they're all kind of close. I don't wanna write all that out and I WANNA GET TO THE GOOD PART.

Tag list: @stimmingsides @smollilsanderssides @novacloudcat @analogical-agere @fairyhuman2000 @aphandgflover @softastarlight @littlesapphygem @softflowerinmyheart

please ask/reach out if you wanna be added to the tag list

#ts logan #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #The Agere Channel Lamp AU #The Agere Channel AU #CALM #LAMP #Polysanders #ts agere

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actingonimpulse · 3 years

Text

Snow and Roses

This is my one-shot for @vp102 “Gift of Fanfiction”. I recommend you check their YouTube channel out where they do a variety of things, including Wattpad Read Alouds, and they are really cool. Their YouTube channel is VideoPresident 102, or this link https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCmOYRxICUMSiLoYDX_BTZiw.

Summary: Its Christmas time in the mindscape, when it starts to snow that's when things pick up the little on excitement.

Wordcount: 4240

Janus (mentioned 15 times) and Remus (mentioned 16 times) Are there but I didn’t incorporate them enough for me to feel the need to tag them.

3rd person POV

Virgil was just settling down onto his soft bed, the sheets shifted with the pressure of his body weight going down on it. Staring at the ever-shining digital clock. The blocky letters in red illuminating their way into his eyes. 6:30 AM. ‘Perfect time to sleep’ the tired side thought. Drifting slowly into sleep.

/a little tad later/

Virgil very, unfortunately, got woken up by a sound. It wasn’t his alarm clock. It only really set it if there was something going on. Virgil grudgingly sat up, taking the opportunity up to stretch his arms. His head turned towards his nightstand, it was holding four things, his phone, a bottle of water, a lamp and the alarm. Glancing at the alarm it read 6:47 AM. whole 17 minutes of sleep. His thoughts drifted off the clock and he looked at the wall. The sound was music blasting from the hallway, the tired side deduced. Footsteps rang through the hall, Virgil could tell it was Roman based on the pattern of steps. The song was now interpretable. It was Mariah Carey.

“l don't care about the presents~” a voice echoed from the hall. It was the voice of the fellow Prince and Mariah Carey’s top song. A fearsome duo in his opinion.

“Underneath the Christmas tree” A different voice continued, it was very energetic. It was Patton. A less fearsome trio.

After a twist of his door handle Roman burst through his door. Virgil jumped and accidentally bumped his head into the wall. “Merry Christmas Kiddo!” Patton cheered. “We can’t open gifts until everyone else is downstairs.” The father figure informed. Virgil nodded and watched as they left him in his room, Patton closing the door behind himself pushing Roman out. Virgil slid out of bed. Virgil was in black sweatpants, so he didn’t think it was necessary to change out of them. Virgil slipped his fuzzy slippers on and then switched his pajama shirt to a loose purple t-shirt then slipped his hoodie on. Virgil was staring at the door then saw a light illuminate from his nightstand. Virgil grabbed his phone, it was a basic notification. Virgil quickly checked the time, 6:56, Shoving the device into his pocket stepping outside his room, continuing his journey down the hallway. Virgil was dragging himself through the hall without having the real chance of waking up.

Stepping down the stairs Virgil noticed Logan in one of the leather seats, reading a book while his phone laid face down next to him on the arm of the chair he was occupying. Logan glanced up, he was in his everyday attire. “Merry Christmas Virgil. I hope your sleep was ideal.” His tone was mainly his normal voice, but there was a glint of something else there, possible excitement or happiness. Patton and Roman turned to look at him as Virgil made his way over. Patton was in his Cat onesie next to Logan. Roman was in red and yellow plaid pajamas with his Christmas sweater over it.

“Do you like it, Lo?” Patton chirped.

“Merry Christmas Logan.” Virgil muttered in response as he sat next to Roman in an open spot. Logan gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Roman shifted away from him and Patton stood up”

“Kiddos let’s open presents now! I’ll go first for the Secret Santa. I had Logan!” Patton excitedly cheered walking over to the tree. He picked up a box, wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper, and a silver bow adorning the top. Passing it to the intellectual side, who took it. Taking off the bow and the paper in a fashion that wasn't just ripping it apart. Logan took Patton’s gift out. It was a Collection of H.P. Lovecraft, the intellectual observing the cover.

“Yes. It’s indeed a great choice.” Logan replied excitedly Patton looked extremely pleased with his statement.

“I know you like Sherlock, so I wanted to find something close enough to it,” He explained.

“Well thank you. I will start reading this soon. It's clear you thought of me when getting it.” The logical trait placed the book to his side. “I will make room to start this as soon as I can.” Logan picked up a gift wrapped in light pastel colors. “It seems I had you also.” He passed the box to the father figure. Who took it out, ripping the paper to shreds. He took out a stuffed dog, with a grey cardigan around the animal’s shoulders. The stuffed animal had glasses on their brown eyes. Patton gave the gift a strong squeeze.

“It’s so cute!” Patton squealed. “It looks so much like me! Thank you, Logan!” Patton stared at it. His eyes were bright with excitement. The father figure then turned “Wait, who will go next”

Janus raised his hand. “I totally don’t want to go next in the gift exchange.” Patton gave a small nod and Janus walked over to the tree. Picking up a box with green paper on it.

Janus handed the green box to Remus who quickly ripped it apart. Remus opened the box and held up a few things that could be used for pranks. Remus looked at a vial of what Virgil thought was Disappearing Ink. Roman gave a sigh in a way that said ‘oh boy.’

“Ooooo! These things could be fun~” Remus smirked while speaking out to everyone. After a second he skipped over to the tree. Picking up a small red box, passing it to his brother.

Roman hesitantly grabbed the box and unwrapped it. He slid something out then gave a small squeal. “Is this. The complete Disney song collection?” Remus nodded. Roman examined the perfectly sealed CD with a small smile. Eventually Roman picked up something from under the tree. He passed it to Virgil who could tell he was nervous.

Virgil took the box as Roman sat back down next to me. Virgil looked at the box. It adorned the top of the lid. Virgil gently took the lid off, it held a small key. Virgil looked at him confused as he picked up a silver key. “A key?” Virgil asked him.

Roman scoffed “I wouldn’t just give a silly old key!”

Virgil sighed. “Princey if you have some crazy adventure plan would you mind waiting for me to give my gift?” Roman nodded as Virgil put the key in his pocket. Virgil walked to the remaining present and picked up the yellow and green box. Virgil handed it to Janus. Who took it and looked at me.

”What’s this? Is it gonna jump out at me?” Janus teased Virgil, who brushed it off and sat down. Janus looked back at the box. Taking the paper off and opening the box. He took out a yellow snake plush with a hat on. “This was totally expected,” Janus spoke, almost to the plushie. He looked in awe at the snake, eventually booping it in the nose.

“Are we done now?” Roman asked. Patton gave a half shrug. “Come on.” Before Virgil knew it Roman grabbed his wrist and dragged the darker one elsewhere.

“I feel like you're plotting something,” Virgil muttered looking behind himself to see Logan and Patton following. They both seemed to be equally confused. After Roman dragged him outside. He handed Virgil a blindfold. “What are you even doing? I really do think you're gonna do something.”

“You’ll see,” Roman replied as Virgil put it on.

“Your gonna kill me aren’t you?”

Roman let out an offended gasp to his question. “I would never!” He shot back starting to guide him. Virgil could hear the footsteps of the others.

He eventually slowed down “Watch your step” Roman warned as there was a sudden step-up. Virgil gave an unsure nod. Virgil llet Roman guide him . It was cold, almost too cold for the Emo.

“Ok, you can stop now.” Virgil heard the Prince character’s voice. Virgil did so as Roman took the blindfold off Virgil. The four of them were in the garden, in front of a gate.

“The gardens have been here forever. What's so different about it?” Virgil inquired.

“Where's the key?” Roman asked back. Virgil stuck his hand in his pocket pulling it out onto his palm, showing the prince as he waved Virgil over. Patton and Logan were close behind.

“Did we leave Remus and Janus alone?” Virgil realized they weren't with us.

“They did not wish to follow,” Logan responded.

Roman looked at both of them. “Virgil, unlock the gate.”

“Oh yeah.” Virgil quickly countered. Virgil put the key into the lock, twisting to the side then pushing the gate open. “Should we go inside?” Roman nodded eagerly. Virgil walked in Roman on his heels. Patton and Logan right behind.

“It’s beautiful,” Virgil replied. Before turning his gaze back to the garden. Virgil reached out to touch one of the flowers. “How did you do this?” Virgil asked after a moment. his hand was cupping the side of the flower.

It seemed to be a simple garden, for the prince at least, but yet beautiful. It was roughly the size of a small room. There were tall hedges in place of walls, his feet took himself to the center as Virgil looked around. There were roses, not any though. They were purple with dark leaves, the bushes appeared thorn less. As Patton and Logan trailed in they both looked around.

Roman must’ve noticed his reaction. “Do you like it Stormcloud?” Virgil looked at him.

Roman couldn’t answer before Patton shouted. “Guys look!” he pointed to the sky. Virgil complied. Seeing as white speckles could be seen in the sky, floating down in a graceful fashion. “I think it’s snowing!” the dad figure excitedly cheered. Virgil watched as snowflakes started hitting the ground. The brick started to dot in white. Patton stuck his tongue out trying to get one.

Virgil stuck out his hand as one landed on him. As it melted Virgil felt a shiver gently graze his skin from the cold. Virgil pulled his jacket closer onto himself. “Can we go inside, where it’s warmer?” Virgil spoke the last part in a whisper.

Logan nodded. “I think it’s in everyone’s interest so we don’t get sick.” Patton sighed as a form of complaint. But eventually started out, Virgil followed as Logan left. Roman followed them but stopped at the gate.

“Hot topic lock the gate.”

Virgil nodded and grabbed the key. Turning it until he heard the click of it locking. Virgil pushed the gate to double-check it was closed. Walking back to the group as the snow kept gently falling on the ground and us. By the time we walked to the door, we could start seeing the shapes of the soles of our shoes on the ground.

After we all walked in Roman being the last one closed the door. Patton looked out the window. “Let’s all get ready to play in the snow!”

Logan looked at the parental trait. “Patton there isn’t nearly enough snow to ‘Play’ in it.” Logan did air quotes around the word play. He pushed up his glasses and headed off to a different room.

“Where are you going, Lo?” Patton questioned.

“I am going to pour myself a cup of coffee. It’s nearly 8 am” Logan replied. That’s when Virgil remembered the fact he’s running on barely any sleep. Logan left and Patton followed the logical side. Virgil started heading off to his room.

“What are you up to emo?” Roman asked right after Virgil turned his back.

“Not a ton,” Virgil replied, still not turning to face him.

“Then where are you going?” Roman asked, grabbing his arm, “Everyone else is here. Even Janus and Remus for some reason.” He gestured to the two others sitting in the living room, they were playing cards and they were getting louder. Someone was obviously starting to win. It was oddly calming everyone getting along for once.

“To the void of space.” Virgil flatly responded. Roman let his arm go. Virgil walked away to the safety of his bedroom. Once there Virgil switched to black jeans, combat boots, then a thick hoodie on top of his shirt.

After about 20 minutes of hanging around in his room Virgil walked downstairs. Going over to the kitchen Virgil grabbed a cup pouring himself some coffee. Then ventured over to the main area and sat down on the seat next to Roman. Patton and Logan were sharing the other sofa, Janus and Remus were sitting across each other at the coffee table still playing cards. Virgil took a swig of his coffee. A glance out the window could show the snow piling up rather quickly. The living room fell into comfortable silence besides Janus and Remus. A few minutes passed before Patton whispered something to Logan. Logan nodded as Patton stood up. “Let's all go outside!” The father figure excitedly urged them. “Get some boots and warm clothes.” He added.

Roman snapped his fingers and he was wearing a thick red trench coat over his Christmas sweater and sweatpants. He was also wearing red boots with golden accents and a pair of matching gloves. Virgil ran upstairs to grab a beanie and gloves. After returning Virgil noticed Logan walking down the stairs. Logan had on, from what Virgil could see, had a heavy jacket, jeans, and some snow boots. The teacher character was sliding on gloves as Patton walked in. He had a light blue jacket over his shirt, he also had jeans and grey boots. The dad character was placing a beanie with cat ears on his head. “Let’s go kiddos!”

Janus and Remus looked up from their game. “Stay warm” Janus joked watching Patton walk out the door. The others followed him. Patton laid down in the thin white sheet covering the ground, it looked like more or less an inch. Virgil was walking around in the snow, enjoying the grace of the snowfall. Then ‘thud’. Virgil felt something hit his back and turned around. Roman was preparing another snowball to toss at him.

Virgil grabbed a handful of the plush snow and pressed it together, tossing it towards the prince. It didn’t hit him but it started a snowball fight. It went on for some time, some hits, most misses. Virgil slipped and hit the snow. Each time they grabbed snow Virgil always ended up grazing the grass while taking it. The current fall quickly replenished anything that they took. Roman stood over him, placing his boot on his chest.

“Any last words Hot Topic?” Roman smugly asked. A snowball was in his hand and he was gonna throw it at him.

“Hakuna Matata” Virgil replied

He leaned forward being careful not to hurt Virgil. “It means no worries” As his face was close Virgil grabbed some snow and hit him in the face with it. Roman backed up confused and Virgil took the opportunity to run. “HEY, NO FAIR!” He laughed and ran after the darker persona. Who ran behind Patton.

Roman tried to toss a snowball at him but hit the father figure instead. Patton joined in our little fight and eventually, Logan did too. Teams were formed over time. Patton and Virgil vs Roman and Logan. Patton was busy piling snow and Virgil was out to scope out where the other team was making their hideout. They were near the bushes. Virgil got hit in the side, Logan was behind a mound of snow. Virgil tossed some back and heard Roman. ‘Found it’ Virgil thought to himself. Virgil looped around the house and went to Patton. “I found their hideaway,” Virgil whispered.

“Good. Now we plan.” Patton whispered. Taking 5 or 6 minutes Virgil looked around the front while Patton took a long way around. Virgil was in the trees, near the front. Then stepping out, staying in the open.

Roman looked at Logan. “Virgil is out in the open, Lets gather enough snowballs for an ambush.” He whispered. They spent time collecting a small amount of snowballs. “CHARGE!” The prince shouted. Logan opened fire. Throwing them at Virgil before grabbing one from his teammate. Roman suddenly tumbled over feeling a chilling sensation over his neck. He shrieked. As a reaction

Virgil heard Roman’s Voice and noticed Logan started tossing at me. Virgil played along, getting hit a few and tossing others. Virgil heard a roar from Roman then Patton’s voice. “Are you alright kiddo?” It echoed through the open area they were in.

“Yeah, I’m fine Patton.” Virgil heard Roman say. Virgil sat in the snow for a second. Banter starting from the other sides. After a few minutes, Virgil laid down staring at the sky above with the snowfall, hearing a crunch beside him. “What are you doing.” Roman was above him again. Virgil gave a half attempted shrug. He laid down next to Virgil and shivered before sitting up. “The snow is a tad cold.” He looked at the other one. “Are you ok Virgil?” Virgil was surprised he asked that. He must’ve noticed the surprise in his expression “You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil muttered back to him

“It's close to two in the afternoon. I think we should all go inside.” Logan yelled out in an informative way. He walked off probably to Patton.

“5 hours?” Virgil asked, it felt much shorter to him.

“Time flies when you're having fun, huh emo?” Roman spoke, turning around and walking back, halfway back he turned and faced the tree Virgil was at. “You coming?” Virgil nodded walking over to him as they walked together to the house.

Walking inside Patton walked up to them. “Since most of our clothes are wet Logan said we should change into something dry and warmer.” Virgil nodded walking off to his room. After reaching it Virgil changed into sweatpants, a t-shirt, and an oversized hoodie. Virgil changed his socks into Nightmare Before Christmas socks. Hanging out in his room for a while before deciding to adventure out. Virgil walked down to the living room and everyone else already there. Remus and Roman were arguing about the movie they wanted to watch. Patton was making Hot Chocolate for everyone.

“Virgil, choose. The Santa Clause with Tim Allen, or How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” Roman was seeking an answer.

“The Santa Clause I guess.” Virgil hesitantly replied before sitting on one of the empty sofas still warming up from the cold.

“Told you Remus it's better!” Roman grabbed a disk. Remus growled. He inserted the disk in as Patton walked in. Passing a mug to Janus and one to Remus.

“Do you need help, Pat?” Virgil asked, He shook his head assuring Virgil he was fine. Virgil leaned into the sofa, Roman sat down next to him. Patton was somehow holding four cups. Placing two in front of Roman and Virgil. He handed one to Logan and sat down. The movie played in the background as Virgil started falling asleep. Virgil leaned against his hand before falling asleep.

“Don’t you dare wake him” Virgil heard a voice tell someone off.

“Patton, he slept through the movie. I think we should continue the day. It’s been over one and a half hours.”

Virgil yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Kiddo did we wake you?” Patton directed his attention to him. Virgil shook his head. “Ok! Sorry, your hot cocoa got cold, you fell asleep right as the movie started.” Patton turned around “Roman get off the table!”

Roman was standing on the coffee table “Guys we’re having an Ugly Christmas Sweater Contest!” He announced. “A few rules. 1, nothing inappropriate. 2, everyone has to participate. 3, No sabotaging or stealing other people’s ideas. 4, Use the sweaters provided so it's fair. We are all gonna gather in 2 hours wearing our sweaters.”

“Two hours seems a little excessive,” Logan spoke up.

“You're not making the rules. I am. Now everyone, let the challenge begin!” Roman proudly hopped off after finishing his sentence. He summoned and passed out each a red and green sweater. Virgil sunk down to his room right after he got his sweater. Virgil looked around his room, finding an idea. Grabbing his sewing kit then heading to work. 20 minutes later Virgil walked downstairs without the sweater. Plopping down on the couch, starting to scroll through his phone.

“Finished the quest already?” Roman asked smugly. Virgil didn't reply, and continued to scroll. The prince scoffed at his lack of response and walked off.

About an hour later everyone was downstairs waiting around. Everyone was done, Logan was right, again. Roman spoke up after realizing some of them were running short on patience. Patton was sitting on the couch humming Christmas songs wearing a sweater, ornaments carefully sewn on. Virgil was still sprawled out on the couch. Janus didn't want to wear a sweater and shut the door in Roman’s face, and Remus. He honestly just didn't care what Remus was up to. “Everyone should have their sweaters on.” Roman gestured to Virgil who sighed and walked towards his room. He returned back and his dark jacket tightly pulled around him. After Virgil sat back down Roman announced. “Alrighty, let’s start!” He placed his phone down. It was playing Christmas music.

“What are we doing again with the ‘ugly’ Christmas sweaters?” Logan put finger quotes around the word ‘ugly’. The logical trait’s sweater had a tinsel garland wrapping around him in stripes.

“A contest! We will vote on whose sweater is best. And they get bragging rights.” The prince’s sweater was blinking with the Christmas lights that were woven into the fabric. “So I will pass out the voting paper and each pen, I want the pens back.” Roman placed a slip and a pen in front of Patton and gave Logan his own set. Once he reached Virgil. “What's on the sweater Virgil?” Virgil looked a little flustered.

“Its stupid.” Virgil nervously replied. Pulling his jacket even more on to cover what he put on it “I don’t think it's a good idea any-” he got cut off by Patton.

“Come on kiddo! What’s the worst thing, you don't win?” Patton gently encouraged.

“Most of us will in fact lose if not everyone.” Logan stated

“F-fine.” Virgil loosened the jacket. It just barely showed a round reflective disk on the center which was tightly sewn onto the sweater. Roman just sighed in defeat and gave him the slip and pen.

“Also so we don’t waste our creations we will keep them on for now.” Roman added.

“But it’s like 5:30.” Virgil complained glancing out the window at the golden sun meeting his eyeline. He squinted away. He laid himself on the couch. His jacket adjusting to him shifting.

“Wait.” Roman said in an attempt to hold off a laugh. “Did you put a mirror on your sweater?”

“Lets just vote so we can all stop talking about this!” The paler one urged. Roman nodded, everyone wrote down a name. Roman won, and everyone went to do their own stuff. Logan and Patton decided to just watch another few movies. Roman went to his room. Virgil went to his own room.

Virgil tugged the hoodie back over the sweater. “No?”

“Wait kiddo really! Why didn't I think of that?” Patton chuckled looking at the side on the couch.

--later on--

Virgil was done with this. It was about 9. So for the past few hours it's been christmas music. Virgil doesn’t hate the music. But it’s been well over 3 hours of non-stop music, and Roman’s singing. He tried the headphones it got a few years ago. But he still heard what was being blasted through his own playlist. He heard knocking from the next room over. The music stopped then footsteps. Virgil changed into a different christmas sweater, it was the first thing he did getting to his room. It was black with a basic pattern on it.

“Hey kiddo! We are all gonna spend time together. Can you join us?” Patton called out through his still closed door. Virgil walked over opening the door.

With a sigh the darker one replied “Sure, why not.” With a squeal the bright father figure dragged Virgil to the living room. They were already playing Christmas music from a small speaker. He sat on the floor leaning against the couch. Im Dreaming of a White Christmas started to serenade the living room.

Logan walked over to Patton and nervously questioned. “Can I have this dance?” He held out his hand. Patton excitedly gasped taking the hand as Logan pulled him up.

“Of course Logie!” Patton responded. Logan wrapped an arm around Patton’s waist, Patton adjusting a hand softly onto the smarter trait’s shoulder. They danced around the room semi-gracefully. Logan with a soft smile, and Patton with a smile so bright the sun would be jealous. The song guiding them through its soft melodies and rhythm.

Virgil and Roman shared a glance. Virgil sighed as Roman stood up. “I feel like I am indebted, aren’t I stormcloud?” Roman held out his hand. Shall we dance? Virgil took the offered hand being dragged to his feet.

“I’m never accepting a bet again.” The darker trait informed.

“You know you like it.” The prince defended himself and started guiding the anxious one into a slow waltz gently humming along to the music.

~end~

Thank you yet again VideoPresident 102 and if you haven't checked them out please do! They even have a live channel if your interested in that.

Link to their main: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCmOYRxICUMSiLoYDX_BTZiw

Link to their live: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7-T6i_idkYfdZy7uXu54bg

#sander sides #prinxiety #logicality #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #AIWrites

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star-doll-universe · 4 years

Text

Michelle Goes to Candy Island (Part 1)

A little something I wrote for @one-piece-dumpster-fire in which her self insert gets to meet some of my WCI OCs. I hope you guys enjoy my nonsense and sheesh I was gonna make this all one thing but now there’s gonna be at least two parts ‘cause this shit got loooong *hides*

The sun was just beginning to poke its head above the chocolate covered hills of Biscuit Island as Michelle made her way through the shadowed halls of the Minister’s Manor. The early morning rays cast little more than a pale glow along the floor as they seeped between the heavy velvet curtains. The large home of Charlotte Cracker was eerily still and silent, not a single person seemed to be awake, which is why Michelle had been rather surprised to wake up and find the spot beside her in bed to be noticeably vacant.

She’d quickly gotten up and dressed for the day, deciding sleep would most likely escape her if her fiancé wasn’t lying next to her. It really was very odd for him to be up this early, and Michelle quickly deduced that it had been either Minister of Biscuit duties, Sweet Commander duties or a mixture of both that had dragged him from their bed this early in the morning. Therefore, she decided to pay him a visit since he was probably not in the best of moods if work really had forced him to wake up before even the Homies had begun singing their morning song. This is why Michelle was currently making her way to his office, after stopping in the kitchen to grab some quick breakfast, munching on a biscuit covered in grape jelly as she went.

Despite the darkness of the mansion’s halls, she found her way to Cracker’s office with practiced ease. Michelle scarcely knocked before pushing on the heavy door and slipping inside; her future husband never seemed to mind her dropping in on him like this. She found Charlotte Cracker crouched over his desk with a mountain of paperwork spread out before him and a cup of lukewarm coffee clenched in his fist. His signature broad smile was currently missing and was replaced by a heavy scowl of concentration as he perused what seemed like miles of important documents.

“Good morning.” Michelle stifled a yawn as she made her way over to his desk.

Cracker glanced up at she approached him.

“Sugar Cube, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I was up with the sun,” Michelle lied, moving around the side of the desk so she could stand beside her fiancé, scarcely reaching his bicep as she stood on tip toe to glance at his mess of paperwork. “What are you working on?”

Cracker snorted. “What aren’t I working on?!” He exclaimed with a rueful smile as he turned towards Michelle, reaching out after a moment to stroke the side of her face. “Thank you for visiting me, my dear. I appreciate it.” He then used his other hand to down the rest of his coffee before standing up from his desk.

“Where are you going?” Michelle asked as he brushed past her.

“I have some business to attend to on the southern part of the island,” Cracker explained as he threw his cape over his shoulders. “I’ll be a while, I’m afraid.”

“That’s alright.” Michelle forced a smile. “I’ll manage without you.”

Cracker chuckled. “I’m happy you understand, sweetheart.”

“Of course,” Michelle then moved over to where Cracker’s sword Pretzel was leaning against the wall and picked it up.

“Thank you,” Cracker took his blade from her and attached it to his hip. “I’ll try to be back by tonight.”

“Alright,” Michelle then leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Be safe. I’ll see you later.”

Cracker’s face was a little pink as he nodded, finally flashing her one of his signature cocky grins. “Of course, love. I’m always careful.” With this slightly callous response, he turned to go, but paused in the doorway. “By the way, one of my sisters is going to be stopping by today.”

Michelle raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Which one?”

“You haven’t met her yet. Her name is Spice. She’s a Sweet Commander like me.”

“Oh!” Michelle vaguely recalled her being mentioned before. “What’s her reason for visiting?”

“She said something about taking you to a party or something.” Cracker seemed to be struggling to remember the details; he was also probably distracted by his pressing Minister duties. “I’m sure she’ll explain when she gets here. Anyways, keep an eye out for her, and I’ll be back before you can say “souffles make terrible earmuffs”.

Michelle giggled at this silly remark as her fiancé gave one last little wave before sweeping out the door, his long magenta cape billowing behind him as he went. Soon enough, he was gone, and his future wife was forced to find some means of preoccupying herself before Cracker’s aforementioned sister arrived with her mysterious objective.

~~~~~~~~

Michelle eventually found herself in the manor’s library, which was always a slightly overwhelming experience. The second she walked into the room, every book Homie on the shelf would start clamoring all at once: “Read me!” “No! Read me!” “Read me first!” She would never understand how the old sofa slept through all of it.

Merely looking for a means of entertainment for the time being, Michelle wasn’t really all that picky on what to read. Eventually, she selected a mauve cookbook entitled “1,001 Uses for Margarine” and settled back against the cushions while the furniture snored loudly.

She had just made it to use #27 when a sharp knock on the door made her jump slightly. Michelle glanced up at the door, which looked as surprised as she was.

“Um…Come in?” Michelle offered, but the door did not open. She quickly set the book aside and was just about to get up and open it herself when, out of nowhere, a face suddenly appeared in the center of the door.

“BOO!” the face exclaimed, and Michelle shrieked, throwing her arms over her head and falling off the sofa, which finally woke up with a snort.

The face giggled rather jovially: a wide mouth and big brown eyes were alight with glee beneath short shaggy orange hair. As Michelle watched, astonished, the face was soon accompanied by a neck and then shoulders and then a torso and finally a pair of legs. Next thing she knew, a whole human was floating in the middle of the library. The figure was a young girl to be precise, around Michelle’s age. She had the brightest, most orange hair Michelle had ever seen; it looked like her face was wreathed in fire. It was also full of little hairclips in the shape of candy corn which matched the earrings, rings and necklaces that dotted all around her white round face accented by rosy cheeks and splash of tanned freckles. Her puffy orange sweater dwarfed most of her form but Michelle could still make out a rather curvy figure with a full chest and short, thick legs, the latter of which were clothed in white and yellow striped socks with thick black Mary Jane shoes on her feet. The girl grinned down at the startled Michelle on the floor, hovering near the ceiling like a chandelier, with a smile almost as wide as Cracker’s

“Hiya Michelle!”

The other woman blinked at the sound of her name, the initial shock slowly starting to fade, and she managed to clamber back to her feet. “H-Hello…Are you Spice, by any chance?”

“Yep!” Spice nodded, swooping down to suddenly alight on the ground right in front of Michelle. “I’m Charlotte Spice! Minister of Carnauba, Sweet Commander and twenty-second daughter of Big Mom, Emperor of the Sea.” She suddenly reached out and clasped Michelle’s hands. “It’s so good to finally make your acquaintance, Michelle. Cracker’s told me a lot about you.”

Michelle was still reeling, but her face went a little red from that last remark. “R-Really?”

“You bet! He doesn’t shut up about you, always gushing about how sweet and lovely you are. It’s honestly going to give me diabetes.” Spice laughed at her own joke before suddenly letting go of Michelle’s hands and jumping back into the air. “Now come on! We gotta get a move on or we’re going to be late.”

“Late?” Michelle stammered before her jaw hit the floor as she watched Spice zip back over to the door and phase THROUGH THE WALL without even slowing down. “W-Wait!” she quickly raced after her, thrusting open the door to see Spice was already halfway down the hall.

“Come on, Michelle! You gotta keep up!”

“I-I can’t, really,” Michelle called back, gripping her bad hip as she spoke. “I can’t run very well.”

“Hmm? Oh fudgsicles! That’s right, your hip is bad. Hold on!” Spice flew back over and then picked Michelle up by the waist before she had a chance to argue.

“Whoa!”

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry!”

“W-Where exactly are you taking me?” Michelle asked, clinging to the other girl rather tightly as they flew through the halls.

“I’m taking you to Candy Island! Perospero’s wife is having a little get together, and you were invited!”

“Me?”

“Of course! She and her sisters wanted to meet you before the wedding. After all, you’re going to be family now, right?”

“Oh yeah. Right.” Michelle was a little flattered at the gesture.

Spice suddenly stopped midair, jolting the other woman more than a little and causing her to grab an even bigger fistful of her giant orange sweater. “By the way, do you have a winter coat?”

Michelle blinked in confusion. “I mean yes, but isn’t Candy Island a Summer Island?”

“I mean yeah but…” Spice paused. “It’s a bit hard to explain, but trust me, you’ll want one. Now where is your room?”

“It’s on the top floor by the-WAIT CAN’T WE WALK?” Michelle shrieked as Spice took off again, dragging her through the air before she’d even finished her sentence.

~~~~~~~

Now more than a little frazzled but winter coat firmly in hand, Michelle trooped along after Spice as she skipped and weaved her way through the streets of Biscuit Island, her feet seemingly not touching the ground for more than a few seconds. Michelle had insisted they walk to the harbor, and she was grateful that Spice had agreed to slow down a little and let the other girl get her bearings (and hopefully fix her awfully windblown hair that she was currently combing her fingers through). Despite her annoyance at zipping around the Biscuit Manor like an overly caffeinated hummingbird, Michelle couldn’t help but let her eyes continuously wander to Spice’s feet hovering a good few inches off the ground.

“Hey Spice, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm? Sure. What is it, Michelle?” the other woman glanced back at her, her orange hair looked even brighter in the morning sunlight.

“Your powers are from a Devil Fruit, right?’

At her question, Spice’s large enthusiastic smile quickly returned. “Yep! The Human-Human Fruit, Model: Poltergeist, to be exact.”

“Poltergeist?!” Michelle was a little shocked. She couldn’t help but remember those creepy stories her father used to tell her and her little brother while they huddled together on the bed in his cabin, trembling with frightened delight. “As in a ghost?”

“Of course! One of those creepy apparitions that makes things go bump in the night!” Spice wiggled her fingers teasingly. “I’ll show you my Devil Fruit’s full form sometime if you ever wanna see something really terrifying.”

“I think I’ll pass.” Michelle replied.

By that point, the two young women had reached the docks at the very edge of Biscuit Island.

“And here she is!” Spice announced, flying a little higher into the air as she spread her arms wide. “Isn’t she scrumptious?!”

Michelle looked on at a cute little sailboat that was resting at the end of the dock. It was painted bright orange with pitch black sails and looked almost as though it had been carved out of a squash or, dare she say, a pumpkin. This was further emphasized by the figurehead Homie which was in fact a Jack O’ Lantern that had an almost menacing grin. It cackled at seemingly everything as golden flames bloomed from its eyes and mouth.

“Oh wow!” Michelle was indeed impressed, if a little creeped out.

“She’s called the Peter Midnight, and she’s all mine!” Spice declared proudly.

Michelle was about to tell her that the ship was indeed quite cool, but words escaped her almost immediately when a second Spice suddenly appeared standing on the edge of the ship’s railing, grinning down at her.

“Welcome aboard, Michelle! We’ll be casting off soon!”

Michelle blinked in astonishment, her eyes quickly flipping between the first Spice she’d been talking to already, who was still floating in the air above the boat, and the second spice standing on the dock.

“Captain Spice!” the first Spice called to her double as she landed beside her, proving there were indeed two and they were seemingly identical. “Is the ship in tip top shape?”

“Sure thing, Commander Spice. We’re ready when you are!”

Michelle couldn’t take much more of this. “Excuse me, WHAT?!”

Both Spices looked her way and quickly broke into identical laughter. “Don’t worry, Michelle, it’s just a soul projection.” The first Spice casually explained, waving her hand through the second version of her who quickly faded in and out of focus slightly like a mirage. “It’s another side effect of my Devil Fruit. Pretty cool, huh?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Michelle grumbled from under her breath.

“Ready on your command, Captain Spice!” A third Spice called from the rigging of the sails.

“All set on our end as well, Commander Spice!” called a fourth from the helm.

“I can see gummy dolphins!” yelled a fifth from the crow’s nest. This one was holding a telescope.

The first Spice, the real one Michelle supposed, clapped her hands. “Ok everyone! Enough fooling around! Let’s get a move on!”

With that, all of the soul projection Spices got to work casting off the ship from the docks of Biscuit Port.

After another moment to get her bearings, Michelle was helped aboard by another soul projection while the figurehead continued to cackle gleefully.

“Hard to port, Helmswoman Spice! Let’s set out for Candy Island!” the first Spice called out, pointing in the direction she wanted the ship to go. At her command, the Spice at the helm turned the wheel and the ship cut a neat path through the waves and out into the open sea that surrounded the Tottoland. Archipelago.

Michelle gripped the side of the ship, feeling the familiar sensation of the ocean air washing over her entire body. She closed her eyes, soaking in the nostalgic feeling as the cool breeze whipped through her hair.

“Hey Michelle!” She opened her eyes to see the real Spice hovering towards the bow of the ship, waving to her frantically. “Watch this! It’s really going to knock your socks off.”

“Uh…Ok!” Michelle called back.

Spice grinned at her. “Hold on tight.”

The other woman didn’t need to be told twice, her grip on the edge of the ship tightening almost immediately.

Spice then floated down to land on the Jack O’ Lantern figurehead, placing her hands palms down on the top. Michelle watched, almost transfixed, as she closed her eyes in a moment of concentration. A second later, Spice’s eyes snapped open, and a shiver went down Michelle’s spine as she saw that they were nearly completely blacked out save her irises which were now a brilliant yellow. A kind of shadow seemed to pass around the Peter Midnight and all of the Spice soul projections gained the same creepy eyes as the original. A curious golden light suddenly appeared on Spice’s hands and seeped into the figurehead of her ship. It sent a ripple effect throughout the entire boat like when a person skips a stone on water. In an instant, the ship gave a great lurch and suddenly shot out of the harbor of Biscuit Island at a ridiculously dizzying speed.

Michelle let out a shout of surprise as she clung to the side of the ship which was now bouncing almost on top of the waves, cruising through the melon juice water with the ease of a warm knife through butter. Its speed was impressive to say the least, at this rate, they would reach Candy Island in less than an hour!

“You good?!” Michelle glanced up to see Spice had left the figurehead and was hovering directly above her, shouting over the sound of her boat cutting through the tumultuous sea of the New World.

“Yeah!” Michelle called back. “How did you do that?”

“This boat is powered by my soul,” Spice explained, easily sitting on the edge of the ship beside Michelle as if her boat’s sudden increase in speed hardly affected her. “That’s how it’s able to go so fast!”

“So, the ship is a Homie?!” Michelle asked.

Spice nodded. “In a way, yeah. That’s one of the reasons my mother made me a Sweet Commander. Our powers are remarkably similar to one another.”

Michelle nodded. That made sense. “What’s your bounty by the way?” she called over the wind. She knew all of the Sweet Commanders had high bounties. Cracker was rather proud of how big his was.

“I’m hovering around a billion last time I checked.” Spice replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Although I’m not sure. I know that it’s higher than Smoothie’s but not as big as Katakuri’s. It’s been a while since I’ve left Totto Land though.”

Michelle’s eyes were huge. “Your bounty is really that big?!”

Spice shrugged. “Compared to some other people’s, it’s pretty standard.”

“Yeah but-” Michelle paused, thinking of something. “Why is your bounty so high if you say you don’t leave Totto Land much?”

Spice sighed. “I used to leave more often when I was younger, go on raids and the like. My mother trained me personally; she was always impressed with my Devil Fruit powers, so I got very strong, very young.”

Michelle nodded. That would explain why she was a Sweet Commander even though she was noticeably younger than the others.

“But things are different these days. Mama’s cravings happen a lot more frequently than they used to. They’re a lot more…violent, more unpredictable. I have to stay on Whole Cake Island and manage things…as much as I can.”

As Michelle looked on, she saw something like a shadow pass over Spice’s normally bright face, like the ghost of something she’d rather not speak about. The other woman was curious about it but knew better than to ask. Regardless, as soon as those darker thoughts crossed Spice’s mind, they vanished once more, and she was back to her usual cheerful self.

“Anyways! I’m excited for you to meet everyone. Today is going to be so fun!”

Michelle agreed, nodding eagerly. “And I’m grateful to Perospero’s wife for inviting me.”

“Her name is Winter by the way,” Spice added. “And her sisters are Crystal and North.”

Michelle nodded, scrunching her nose as she tried to remember.

Spice laughed at the face she made. “Get used to it. There’s a lot of names you’ll need to keep track of in this family.”

The other woman gave her a slightly overwhelmed smile. “You’ve got that right.”

“I guess I should also mention that they’re members of the Farfallen race, by the way,” Spice added. “I don’t know if you’ve ever encountered those people before.”

Michelle arched an eyebrow. “Really? And I have before, once or twice.”

“One more thing,” Spice’s expression suddenly got serious again, which made Michelle pay attention. “When you meet Winter, just keep in mind. It’s not you. Okay?”

“Um…What exactly do you mean?”

“Just…” Spice grimaced. “It’s difficult to explain. Just keep that mind, alright? It’s not anything you did.”

“Okay…?” Michelle trailed off, her gaze wandering out to the sea that was frantically zipping by them on all sides, no longer certain if she should be worried or not.

To Be Continued...

#star writes #one piece #one piece oc #crachelle #charlotte spice

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asoftervirge · 3 years

Text

Of “Love” & Murder - (12/13)

CHAPTER TITLE: Revenge, Like Chocolate, Can Be Both Bitter and Sweet

RATING: M PAIRINGS: P. Sanders/V. Sanders (main/one-sided); R. Sanders/V. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/L. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/D. Sanders (former); Remy/E. Picani (side); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)

CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINKS: Remus Sanders, mentions of Satanic symbolism, Ted Bundy/Jeffrey Dahmer/serial killer references, Rocky Horror Picture Show reference, Poison, Swearing, mentions of Janus Sanders, referenced Smut, Smutty Thoughts, mentions of Sex Toys, Thanatophobia (fear of dying), mentions of Previous Deaths, various Methods of Murder, mentions of Violence, Descriptions of Murder, brief mention of Prison Rape, Dumpster Diving, Eating/Eating Gross Food, talks of Grey Morality, Morally Grey Patton, Baking/Food mentions CHAPTER SUMMARY: Patton meets with Remus.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here we are! We’re now at the second to last chapter! Despite the low reception of this fic, I’m very happy with it and it’s been so much fun posting it and seeing everyone’s reactions to it. Fun fact: I’m not real sure what rating this chapter would be under. Obviously it has mature stuff because of Remus, but it’s not too extreme to where no body can read it. It’s not a murder chapter, but he does talk about murder, so maybe it’s best to leave it M rated. lol Happy All Hallow’s Eve, everyone! Have fun reading! xx Virge

INSPIRATION: This post by @phantomofthesanderssides

AO3 || Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

To say Patton was nervous was an extreme understatement.

He was pacing back and forth in an alleyway— the location where Remus wanted to meet— going between fiddling with the hem of his sweater, and twirling a stray curl of hair. Blue eyes frantically scanned the dingy place he was in, not wanting to suddenly be jumped by a dangerous stranger.

Brick walls were stained with something the confectioner didn’t want to know what. Droplets of water from the gutters above dropped down onto the cobblestone. Garbage cans were tipped over, rotting food and other things made the air smell putrid.

A black cat scurried from behind one and past his feet, meowing loudly.

Patton squeaked and flinched as it went by. After collecting himself, he started to fidget more.

He hoped Remus would be here soon. With every minute he was in this alley, he was growing more and more frightened.

Despite this, he tells himself that this is worth it.

For Roman.

For Logan.

For Dorian.

For himself.

In the midst of his self-panic and self-reassurances, Patton didn’t catch the sounds of the metal fence behind him being scaled upon.

“So, you’re Patton Hart, hmm?” A high-pitched, slightly screechy voice said.

Patton yelped and spun around, instantly being greeting with the sight of Remus.

The man looked completely different from Roman, it was almost hard to believe that they were brothers, let alone twins. While the former thespian was composed, elegant, and beautiful, Remus…was anything but.

He looked like a rebellious punk, to put it simply.

Remus’ hair was oily-looking, very unkempt and scrappy; dark brown, almost black in color with touches of green hair dye in it and a single streak of silver. He was clad in a leather biker vest, various patches decorating it, and a fishnet shirt underneath which displayed all of his bruises, cuts, and scabs. His pants almost reminded him of Virgil’s jeans: ripped yet his were baggy as opposed to tight-fitting. His ankle boots were spiked, decorated with an upside down cross and a symbol that looked to be very satanic.

As a matter of fact, all of his jewelry appeared to be just that: skulls and satanic symbols. They were predominantly pieces that littered his neck, but he was also studded with a lot of piercings: a labret plus a lip, multiple ear and eyebrow ones, a chained nose, and a belly button. And all of them were silver as opposed to the gold Roman used to wear.

Looking at him twice over, Remus seemed to be a combination of Roman, Remy, and Toby.

Patton quickly straightened himself up, not wanting the other man to see just how scared he was.

“And you must be Remus Duke,” he responded back. His voice shook a little as he spoke. “I have to say, and I hope you don’t think me rude, but you looking nothing like your brother.”

Remus snorts. “That’s a compliment.” He tells him. “I’d rather not be a goody-goody Abel like my brother was.” He looked Patton up and down, giving him a quirked expression, “Ain’t you a bit saccharine to get help from me? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for beddy-bye time?”

“No!” Patton yells stubbornly. He recoils and tries again. “I-I mean, no. I really, really need your help, Remus. This is the only way I can truly stop Virgil.”

“Ha ha! So you’re also Virgil’s newest boy toy!” Remus grinned manically. Patton squealed and shivered in disgust at that. “I swear he goes through boy toys faster than either Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer did with their victims. Well, not as fast, but—”

“C-Cut it out!” Patton shrieked, stomping his foot in childish anger. He grew sickened at the thought of a monstrous killer like Bundy or a twisted cannibal like Dahmer, and comparing Virgil to them just made it worse.

(It was in that moment when the confectioner remembered the words Dorian told him before he divulged into how he was murdered. While Virgil was a horrible individual, he was nothing like how those men were. They were all criminals, yes, but the widower was somehow of a lesser evil.)

Trying to relax his shoulders, Patton asked again. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Still grinning, Remus jumped off the fence and onto the cobblestone. It wasn’t pleasant sounding as he fell flat on his ass. But he appeared to be okay as he shot straight into the air and began fishing through his pockets, humming Touch-a , Touch-a, Touch-a Touch Me under his breath while he searched.

“Ha ha!” he exclaimed when he finally found what it was he was looking for. He pulled out a vial of sinister-looking liquid, skull and crossbones marked on the front of it.

Poison.

Cyanide, to be more specific.

“This should be the very thing that’ll fuck Virgy-poo up!” Remus exclaimed happily. Then he pouted. “Lucky bastard,” he mumbled. “Just put this in whatever it is you’re gonna give him and watch with glee as he chokes and dies! Ooh, that sounds fun! Can I come and watch too?!”

“No!”

Remus pouted more, actually looking sad.

Patton was about to walk over and grab the vial but Remus stopped him.

“Not so fast, Mr. Fluffy Butthole.” Patton scrunched his nose. A serious look was in Remus's emerald green eyes. “Why do I have the stinky feeling this is for more than just my brother?”

The confectioner reeled back. “…What?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten my number from Toby and call me by saying ‘how would you feel about helping me avenge your brother’ without wanting to do more.” Remus narrowed his gaze. “You wanna avenge Virgil’s other husbands too, don’t you? Spouses or whatever they were.”

Patton opened his mouth to try and say something, but all he could do was sigh and nod. “You’re right,” he finally tells him. “It’s for more than just your brother. It’s also for Virgil’s second spouse, Logan Oxford—”

“That author who seemed so stubborn xe had a stick up xyr butt? Man, xe needed to get laid.”

“…xe were asexual…”

“…Emotionally laid, then.”

“You mean having a loving, supportive relationship?”

Remus gagged. “Don’t be lewd!”

“Xe were also aromantic.”

“I could’ve helped with that!” Remus grinned. “But if xe were also asexual, then it would’ve been no dice. Hehe, dick ice, hehe!”

Patton ignored him and continued on from before. “— and his third, Dorian Cain—”

“Ah! The serpent-y lawyer whose tongue was for more than lying!” Remus grinned more. Since he was a little closer to him, Patton could see the yellow of his teeth. “I’ve heard that he and Virgil were a lot alike. Plus, they were really able to get” – he wriggled his hips – “it” – he started thrusting “on!”

The confectioner blinked, then sighed deeply and tiredly. How exactly was he Roman’s twin brother? (He could practically hear Roman sighing along with him).

“I was in cahoots with him, you know!” Remus tells him, still thrusting for some silly reason.

“So I’ve heard,” Patton tells him, not wanting to delve into details about the supernatural encounters he had. He didn’t need to give this guy the time of day. “They said you called him about wanting him to find evidence on Virgil, but he said no.”

“Yep!” Remus stopped mid-thrust and emphasized on the p. “He accused me of wanting to slander a celebrity, like everybody else did. But it was also because he didn’t want to put his own husband on trial or some other bullshit.”

He blinked then continued thrusting. “I wonder what would’ve happened if I got to him first?” he mumbled to himself in curiosity. He turned to Patton with a grin. “You think Virgil is great in bed? I would’ve given that lawyer the time of his life! We would’ve fuck for days and weeks on end using all the neat kinky toys I have! Plus, all the crazy flexible sex positions?!” He bobbed his head from side-to-side, singing. “Anyone Virgil could do, I could do better~!”

Apparently, Virgil did that and then some, Patton couldn’t help but think to himself, suddenly being reminded of how explicit Virgil and Dorian were. (If the lawyer were here, he’d probably be flattered and chuckle in his ear).

“But it’s more than them too!” the confectioner exclaims, continuing on from where he left off previously. “It’s for any other potential victim of Virgil’s…and me too…”

“Oh?!” This intrigued Remus as he now had Patton’s full attention. “How so?” He could see the confectioner tugging and fiddling with his sweater. Remus actually saw him doing this when he was stalking the alleyway. It must be a grounding mechanism for him or something, kind of like how he plays with his fingers.

“Because—because I’m scared of dying.”

Remus blinked. “You are?”

“Yes— Of course, I am!” Patton didn’t know why the other man was acting like dying isn’t something to be feared. Because, to him, especially in this circumstance, it was. “If I don’t do anything to stop Virgil, I’m scared I’m gonna die. And I don’t wanna die.”

Tears came to his eyes, he rubbed them away with a fist.

“I don’t want to end up like the others. I don’t want a ribbon around my neck, or arsenic in my belly, or a bullet in my head. I don’t want to have my life cut short by someone who might actually want me dead!”

Now he had both fists rubbing harshly at his cheeks. “There’s so much of my life I want to live. There was so much of their lives that they had yet to live. And I want to be able to avenge that…I want my friends, and even you, to be at ease knowing they finally found peace.”

Remus watched awkwardly as Patton cried in front of him. He wasn’t all that good with the emotional, cutesy, kind-wordsy stuff like his brother was. But if Roman was in this situation, he would know what to do better than anyone else.

He knew the moments when his brother would need a hug, and this would be one of them.

So, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Patton, letting him sob into his shoulder.

Patton curled further into him, not caring that he smelled of body odor and garlic.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay. It’ll all be a-okay.”

The confectioner sniffled. “How do you know that?” he asked, voice thick with emotion.

“Because that mean, nasty Virgil’s gonna get what’s coming to him!” Remus tells him. He takes Patton’s tear-stained glasses and licked them clean. He then walked over to a garbage can and fished out a dirty napkin to wipe them with. “Here you go!”

Patton grimaced as he put his… ‘newly cleaned’ glasses back on.

“Even if Roman didn’t like me all that much, he was one of my favorite people,” Remus continues. “And I was incredibly upset when he was killed, or ‘committed suicide,’ as the police suspected.” He narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to bring Virgil to court, I really did, but there was no evidence left at the crime scene.”

Remus snarled; fists clenched together tightly. “When they told me that…I was thinking of contemplating murder myself.” He shook his head. “There were so many things I wanted to do to him.” He began counting on his fingers, “Disembowel him, let my pet rats feed on his body, flood my teeth with his spine, build a sandcastle out of his ashes. You name it, I wanted to do it.”

Patton got visibly sickened with each possible method of murder and violence.

“And yet I couldn’t do anything. I may be a wildcard, but Virgil is much more cunning. He’s slipperier than a bar of prison soap.” Patton dared not ask what he meant by that. “Plus, he might’ve expected that I would come and destroy him when I got the chance. So, there wasn’t anything I could do.”

“But you tried though,” the confectioner says. “Despite there not being evidence, you still went and contacted Dorian Cain to try and see what would happen.”

Remus nodded. “Well, yeah. I figured I might as well eat the bullet and chew until I’m forced to spit it out. And so, I called Dorian’s law firm and asked anyway. Even though I was told ‘no,’ something deep within my dick told me that he might try and do something in secret. When I saw in the papers that he had also killed himself, I thought my chances were ruined for good.”

“However,” he then held out the vial of poison for Patton to take. He could see just how dirty his fingers were: bruised, chewed-up fingernails, chipped black and green nail polish, and grime around the cuticles. “You can be the one to finish him off. Do what me and Dorian couldn’t, and put that murdering piece of shit in the ground where he belongs.”

At first, Patton seemed hesitant about taking it from him, but after everything he’s witnessed, everything he’s heard, everything he’s feared, his resolve was hardened.

He takes the vial and stuffs it in his pocket.

Standing closer to Remus, he can see the details he couldn’t see from afar: flakes of dandruff in his hair; messy, purple, smoky eyeshadow; black lipstick that was slightly smeared; a little bit of stubble growing above his lip; along with any other cuts, bruises, and scabs on his skin.

Not only that, he could see the various patches on his biker vest; only a small handful of them were satanic and anarchist symbols, while the rest were a mixture of things Remus must enjoy. A green sword with tentacles coming from it, a Morningstar, an anatomical heart, a bloodshot eyeball, a skeleton, a peach, a couple octopi and krakens, an alien, a peach, a hazardous symbol, some that involve cursing and parental advisory, some dark Disney ones, an opossum with he/him pronouns, the aromantic flag, and lastly, one that has ‘Duke’ on it in graffiti.

Despite his appearance, Patton might consider this gross man…not so much a friend, but an ally.

“…Remus?” Said man leans in closer, making Patton bend back. “…Thank you. Truly. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without your help.”

He waved nonchalantly. “Eh, don’t worry about it,” he tells him. He walks over to one of the garbage cans and starts rummaging through it once more. “It’s the least I can do. Being an assistant— heh, ass-istant— is better than being forced to sit back and do nothing.” He pulls out a rotting banana, unpeeling it and then taking a bit bite out of it.

Patton looked like he was going to throw up.

Mid-chew, he looked back at the confectioner. “You know,” he mumbled, browning banana flying out of his mouth. “For someone who looks all pure and morally righteous, you gotta little bit of grey in ya.”

“I’m only doing this for good.”

“Maybe,” Remus gulps loudly then takes another huge bite. “But you’re still planning on killing him. No matter how you justify it, redrum is redrum.”

“Redrum?”

“Murder. The Shining. Stephen King.”

Patton hummed.

“Seriously though, who am I to talk morals schmorals to you? Good and bad is all made up nonsense!” Another loud gulp, another big bite. “So! When are you gonna do the do?”

“You mean do the deed?”

“Same thing!”

“Tomorrow.”

“Ooh! On Halloween night too!” Remus grinned excitedly. Patton had honestly forgotten that it would be Halloween, having been so preoccupied with everything has was going on at 613 Rue Morgue. “Are you suuure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, Remus. Thank you.”

Remus pouts again, but he quickly shrugged it off.

“Ah well,” he drops the banana peel at his feet. Litter bug. He started to scale up the fence, allowing Patton to see the large green kraken that covered his back. “I guess I’ll leave the rest to you. Good luck, Patton!”

With a gleeful wave, Remus jumps over and disappears into the shadows from whence he came.

Patton stays in his spot for the longest time.

Maybe…he was a bit grayer than he realized. Through his entire life, he was never really challenged on his morals. He always played by the rules and laws of life, not wanting to face the punishments for having done something wrong.

But now, he was.

He was faced with someone who had a complete disregard for them and is walking a free man with three murders (maybe even more) stained on his hands.

And here he was, wanting to change all of that.

Like he said to Remus, it was for a good cause: to have their spirits be appeased and to have Virgil never commit any heinous crimes ever again. Even if the solution was a permanent one.

Maybe…the other man was right. Maybe…good and bad really is made up nonsense.

With the thoughts of his newly-placed morals in his head, Patton finally left the alleyway.

The alleyway that Remus chose was in the lower part of town, the shadier and troublemaking part to be specific. And even though Patton could have chosen to take his car, he walked since he lived close by in the lower regions of downtown.

It was a long but much needed walk for the confectioner to take.

While the air proved to be chilly, the autumn leaves dropped down onto the ground, creating a little ombre of colors on the sidewalk. The night sky was a trifecta of rich purples, deep blues, and cool blacks. Dots of white twinkled above, making the picturesque scene complete.

Patton looked around at all the holiday decorations that were on display. All of the ghosts, witches, scarecrows, and grim reapers all gave him a bit of a fright. The fake tombstones and giant rope spider webs made him squeak and turn his head for a split second. But he smiled at seeing the differently carved jack-o-lanterns— some more intricate than others— and the outdoor lights that glowed in various colors, like orange, purple, green, blue, red, white, and black. Though what really got a giggle out of him, were the inflatables that stood on each lawn; some were of pumpkins, others were black cats, and was the occasional spooky tree.

Many people love going all out on Halloween, and the confectioner was one of them, having spent so many hours throughout September and October transforming the interior of his shop.

He continued walking into downtown, fog hovering over the street lamps as the air grew a little denser and colder. The streets were slightly bustling as people were walking to and from various stores, all in last-minute preparation for tomorrow night. Many of them were families, with children bouncing up and down excitedly about their costumes while the parents held bags that were presumably filled with candy and other goodies.

It all made Patton smile, for he had that same childish whimsy.

The confectioner didn’t stop walking until he came to a very familiar brown building, the words Patty’s Sweet Confectionaries swirled in fancy but readable font on the window.

Patton took a minute to gently trace his fingers across the white lettering. He still remembers the first day he opened its doors, a young and bright-eyed man who simply wanted to spread the sugary joy that his grandmother used to give him.

With a deep breath, he walked into his confectionery shop, the jingle of the bell above the door made his heart swell up a little. Once inside, he gazed around, nostalgia and melancholy shone in his eyes as he flipped on the lights.

Golden chandeliers glowed from the cream-colored ceiling as the shop became illuminated, presenting the changes that Patton had made. The only other things that remained the same were the dark brown and white tile, and the wooden stands and tables dressed with dishes and bowls, but what filled them had changed since September.

Eyeball-shaped white chocolate truffles, and ghostly popcorn balls were now the specialty treats for the holiday; along with cookies in the shape of skeletons, and white chocolate bark with candy corn. In the display case were still the traditional chocolates, but there were also pumpkin spiced cakes and cupcakes, along with macaroons of varying monstrous design and Frankenstein cereal treats.

However, the two favorites were front and center: gooey marshmallow, and glistening candy apples. The best part about them? The marshmallow is dyed in accordance to the holiday, and the candy apples were also coated with white icing to make it look like Snow White’s poisoned one from the Disney movie.

Walking in further, he plugged in the decorative lights that hung from the walls. The miniature pumpkin luminary bags added another layer of festive spirit to the store, and they paired nicely with the cutout garlands Patton had made some-years back.

The confectioner tenses up as he feels vial of poison roll into his hands from inside his pocket.

A part of him still feels conflicted about doing something like this.

Obviously he knows what Virgil did was horrible and wrong, but on the other hand, he wished there was a much simpler way to see his downfall come to fruition. But as Remy and Toby said, if the police were working with him, then it was impossible to see lawful justice be served to him. (Dorian tried it, and look what happened.)

So this was the only option he had left.

Resolve slowly hardening, Patton made his way to the kitchen to begin work.

He began pulling out giant mixing bowls— both silver and copper, measuring cups, double boilers, spoons and forks, and a plethora of ingredients in order to create the perfect box of poisonous chocolates.

Patton didn’t need to think about which ones he would give to the widower, he knew the recipes for each one by memory.

The first recipe read:  “1 lb of dark chocolate 16 maraschino cherries with the stem 3 tablespoons softened butter 3 tablespoons light corn syrup 2 cups sifted confectioners’ sugar”

Parts of the second read:  “2/3 cups dark chocolate chips 1/3 cup + 2 tablespoons of heavy cream A dash of cinnamon”

The third read:  “7 oz. finely chopped dark chocolate 1/3 cup espresso ½ tablespoons unsalted butter ½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder”

And finally, the fourth read:  “1 cup melted cocoa butter 1 tablespoon cocoa powder 3 tablespoon dark chocolate ½ teaspoon almond extract”

Within each recipe, he made sure to add the cyanide poisoning into the mixtures, adding a bit more than necessary so that it wouldn’t be masked by any of the other ingredients. (He wore protective gear, of course. The same mask and gloves he wore whenever he dabbled in making anything featuring liquid nitrogen.)

Hours later, he had batches cooling on racks and baking sheets. And after checking that he had a perfect set of thirty-two, he began the decorating process. Glazes, icings, and sugars scattered about in the air and dusted his face, hair, and fingers.

Once everything was done up all nice and pretty, Patton placed them all in a box: a black one topped with a bow of dark violet ribbon.

Patton stood back and observed his craftsmanship. A deep frown slowly made its way to his face.

The first part of the deed was done…

…now? It was time for Virgil to have a taste of his own chocolatey medicine.

#Sanders Sides #Patton Sanders #Remus Sanders #Of Love & Murder

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finnofamerica · 5 years

Text

Bumblebee - Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: When delivering something to Remus as Sirius’ request, you end up discovering his biggest secret.

Word Count: 2198

Date: 10.02.2019

Requested by Anonymous

|| Masterlist ||

You ran down the corridors of Hogwarts with a message from Dumbledore, you had no idea why you agreed to take your free period to be his aid.

“Professor McGonagall?” You huffed, out of breath, “Sorry to interrupt, can I borrow Remus please?”

“Certainly.” She nodded. You almost blushed at the ammount of eyes that were on you, but your face was already red from running. Remus stood calmly, ignoring James ans Sirius who were bombarding him with whispered questions.

“Where are we going?” He asked. You gave him a soft smile, patting his shoulder. His sweater was immensely soft underneath your finger tips.

“Dumbledore just wanted to talk to you, is all.”

“You ran for that?”

“Well, Dumbledore makes everything sound like an emergency.” You shrugged, laughing a little, “How’s you’re day?”

“It’s been good. The usual at least.”

“That’s good.”

“You?”

“You know, still kicking so I can’t complain.” You shrugged.

You had an odd sort of thing with Remus, it was clear to anybody else that you obviously had a thing for eachother, but you both continued on like you were just friends. It was hard to believe you were “just friends”. Seriously, Remus would drop anything he was doing to help you study, or if you were struggling with something. You were constantly running errands for the proffessors. Getting books from the library for Flitwick, pots for Sprout, tea for Trewlliny and so on. Remus caught you once with books stacked so high he couldn’t see the top of your head, he wondered ho you even knew where you were going.

It wasn’t like you were never there for Remus, you always found a moment in your busy schedule speak with him. Most times you found him in the library, taking a quiet moment away from his noisey nosey friends, others at the quidditch pitch watching James practice. You knew at times his scars bothered him, and you figured the easiest way of letting him know that you cared, was to ask him about his day.

“What do you think he wants?”

“I’m not sure,” You shrugged, “I’ll see you after though.”

“You probably wont, Bumblebee.” He shook his head, though he said it with humor. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Yes, professor?” Remus asked as you let him into Dumbledore’s office. You wished you could’ve stuck around, but you had more errands to run, delivering new ink to teachers.

“And the bumblebee is off again,” Bellatrix snickered as you hurried down the hallways. You were one of her favorite sorces of amusement. Specifically, she loved to trip you when you were in a rush, bonus points if you were carrying ink.

Bumblebee, a reference to your yellow and black robes. The students who didn’t like you seemed to adopt the nickname, associating it with your house colors and your ever busy “buzzing” behavior. You didn’t care, you actually thought the nickname was cute, no matter how venomous it came off of people’s lips.

“Woah, Y/n, why such a rush?” Sirius laughed as you almost crashed into him.

“Nothing much, just delivering these new pots to Professor Sprout and getting some herbs for Madam Pomfrey, urgent matter she says,” You said, lips running almost as fast as the rest of you.

“You’re still coming to study later right?” He asked as you were already beginning to walk away.

“Yeah, just a few more things to check off my list.” You steadily accelerated into a run, the words barely drifting over your shoulder to him. He shook his head fondly, slinging his arm over Remus who was watching you depart.

“Ah, mate, getting her to slow down will be a feat.”

“Sorry I’m late,” You crashed into the table. Not litterally, but the way you plopped down into the chair, certainly resembled crashing. “What are we working on?”

“Y/n, calm down,” Remus placed his hand on your shoulder, the heat warming you instantly and soothing you, “We just started. The essay for McGonagall.”

Remus thought he was a busy student, passing all his classes, but you were that times ten. He had no idea how you found the time to do all your homework on top of everything you already did for the Professors. You gave him an easy smile, nudging him with your elbow.

“So what topic did you choose?” Remus asked, ignoring the way James and Sirius plotted in the corner.

“Oh,” You tossed bit of loose hair over your shoulder, “Well, I wanted to write about how transfiguration could be used to help poor families.”

“Oh?” He rose a brow.

“Yeah, I mean, think of the benefits!”

James and Sirius looked back and forth between you and Remus as you discussed possible topics for the essay. Comepletely enamored with eachother, everyone else at the table disappeared.

You were finally able to relax on the couch of the Hufflepuff common room, the smell of fresh cookies wafting through. You didn’t want to do anything, so you laid on the couch, eyes closed just listening to the crackling of the fire.

“Miss Y/l/n?” You heard a voice. You held back a groan as you sat up, back aching dully.

“Yes?” You turned to the portrait door, only to find Professor Sprout.

“Minerva had this for you. She said Sirius had it for Remus but couldn’t find him.” She handed you a vile that smelt rather, well, vile.

“Thank you, Professor, I go find him now.” You swung your legs off the couch, stretching as you stood. “A bumblebee’s work is never done, I guess.”

You didn’t rush down the corridors, instead, you took your time. Finding Remus meant peaking inside abandoned classrooms and knocking on office doors. He wasn’t even with Madam Pomfrey which you thought odd. He was nowhere else in the castle. You leaned against one of the windows, looking out on the castle grounds.

You could see a single figure out there.

“Remus?” You asked yourself, really hoping you were wrong. Whatever that person was doing out there, it didn’t feel good.

Against your better judgement, you found yourself making your way out to the castle grounds, over looking the quidditch pitch.

“Remus?!” You called over to the figure, shivering in the cold.

“Y/n?” He called back.

“What are you doing out here so late?”

“Y/n you need to go back inside right now,” He demanded seriously. You could see the concern in his eyes as you stepped closer.

“No, Rem, are you okay?”

“Y/n, you need to go inside now.” Remus reitterated, stepping away from you.

“Professor Sprout g-”

“Now, Y/n!”

You took a step back. Remus never raised his voice at anyone, certainly not you.

“Rem?” Your voice broke, eyes watering.

“It’s too late,” he groaned out in pain. You could see the muscles in his back train against his shirt.

“Y/n,” James ran up to you. “You need to go now, it’s not safe.”

“No, what’s wrong with Remus?” You were practically crying to see him in pain like this.

“I’ll explain later,” He promised, “Sirius, get her inside.”

“No, I wanna help.” You strained against Sirius’ grip on you.

“Y/n, listen to me,” Sirius gripped your shoulders, forcring you to look away from Remus and at him. “We will explain tomorrow, but if you don’t go inside now you could be in severe danger.”

“But-”

“No, buts.” He cut you off, “Look, I know you wanna help. It’s in your silly bumblebee nature, but you can’t help right now. Tomorrow morning I will come get you and we’ll explain everything but right now, I need you to go back inside the castle.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Run.”

A howl pierced the night as you took off back towards the castle. The sound alone chilled you to the bone, but the realization that came along with it had your head spinning so bad that the second you were inside the castle, you collapsed on the floor, struggling for breath.

You didn’t sleep that night. You waited up all night, holding that precious vile in your hand as you stared out at the full moon. You watched as the moon crept across the sky, slowly dissappearing into the sunrise.

“Y/n.” A voice hissed at you. “Y/n!”

You sat bolt upright on the common room couch.

“I was only resting my eyes for a second.” You insisted, rubbing your bleary eyes. Sirius’ face came into focus in front of you.

“Come with me,” He held out his hand. “He should be waking soon.”

You followed Sirius through tunnels that you had no idea were even there. Narrowly avoiding getting hit by the whomping willow, as you snuck through the tunnel at the bottom, barely big enough for you to fit. The room it emerged into was dusty, abandoned.

“Is this-?” The words died on your lips.

“The shrieking shack?”

“Yeah.”

“You ever wondered why it’s called that?” He asked, but he didn’t need an answer, you already put it together.

“How is he?” Sirius asked James as he lead you into another room. This one was significantly cleaner than the last, resembling more of a squatter’s spot.

“Sleeping still. This one was worse, I think.”

They spoke in hushed tones, in a secretive way as if they didn’t want you to hear. Remus was sound asleep on the dusty bed, his hair tossled and pants hung loose on him. After a second glance you realized they were actually Sirius’ pants, but you had no idea when he’d gotten them. Remus was shivering but despite the thick sweater he was wearing.

“I’ll watch over him,” You said softly. So softly that Sirius and James almost didn’t hear you. “You guys should rest.”

“We should explain-”

“No. He can tell me himself.” You shook your head. “I’d rather he tells me himself.”

“You’re sure?” James asked.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay. Come get us when he wakes.” James gave you a hug. It was strange, James had never hugged you before, but he almost seemed glad you were there, if the circles around his eyes had anything to say about it. Sirius ruffled your already messy hair as he walked out, giving one last look to his sleeping friend.

You carefully sat on the edge of the bed, pulling your legs up next to you. Remus was still shivering, even as you gingerly wrapped your scarf around his neck. You brushed some hair away from his face. You could almost say he looked peaceful, but you really didn’t want to know what was happening behind those closed eyes. You did think he was beautiful, even with the scars on his arms, and even the ones on his face. Your favorite was the one across his nose, the one that interrupted the path of freckles on his face. You didn’t realize that you were lightly tracing the scar until Remus’ hand shot up, catching yours.

“Stop,” He mumbled, “tickles.”

“Sorry,” You whispered, “How you feeling?”

“Y/n?” Remus finally opend his eyes. His eyes were hazy and un focused as they flickered to you. He pushed a bit of hair behind your ear with a sleepy smile, “Bumblebee.”

He said it with such warmth, you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Oh my -” Remus sat up, pulling you into his arms. He was really awake now, “Why didn’t you go back inside? Are you hurt?”

“No,” You petted his head, “I’m okay. But I only went inside because I was promised an explaination. But I’m more concerned about you, how are you feeling?”

“Tired, drained, like I got hit by a car.” He let his head rest into your shoulder, a little muffled by your sweater. “I take it you know then?”

“I put it together last night.”

“You still came after all that?”

“Of course!”

“You’re crazy.”

“You’re my friend, and I care for you wether you like it or not.”

“You should stay away from me, it’s not safe.”

“I’m not scared of you. Please, look at me.”

He leaned back, just enough to meet your eyes. You could see tears in his, upset over the fact that he could’ve hurt you. You cupped his cheecks, brushing away any stray tears.

“You’re my friend, and I care for you. I like you a whole lot too. Shit, I wouldn’t have chased after you last night if I wasn’t willing to bend over backwards into hell for you. The only thing I want, is to help you be okay on the otherside.”

“I could hurt you.” He whispered.

“I’ve got nothing left to lose. Try me.” You challenged softly. He gently pressed his lips to yours, like he was unsure of his actions. You just kissed him back.

“You look tired,” He teased as he pulled away.

“I was up all night worried about you.”

“Nap with me then, just skip classes with me today. No bumblebee duties.”

“Maybe just for today,” You laid on the bed next to him. Remus was much warmer with you tucked against his side as the both of you got some much needed rest.

TAGS: @diggorysghost @niffleurs @siriuslyimmoony @carolinesbookworld@untildawnremus @thoseofgreatambition @nosebleednougats @moonynprongs @marauderobsessed @theboywhocriedlupin @astertist @swellwriting @blimey-ron @dyngflwrs @fortisfiliae @essenceoflumos @bluemadcnna @theseuscmander

#remus lupin x reader #murauders x reader #finn writes #full length #10/2/2019

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