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mxtantrights · 3 years

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The magic-spy and the bird

the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3

dick Grayson x f!reader

Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.

“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.

He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.”

You made a face at him.

“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.

You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.

“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.

Jason nodded along with you.

“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.

“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked.

Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite.

“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.”

“What are you a fortune cookie?”

“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.”

2 DAYS LATER

You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine.

“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”

Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.

You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.

“There she is!” he smiles.

Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.

You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.

You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.”

“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.

You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.

“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.

You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.

“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.”

Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.

“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts. “hex mutiny.” you finish.

“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.

“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.

He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”

“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.

Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”

“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”

“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.

Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.

“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.

You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.”

“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.”

“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”

EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER

You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.

After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.

You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you.

“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.

You leaned against the hallway wall.

At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two.

You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.

“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”

You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once.

With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.

“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.

At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally.

“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.

You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.

“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.

“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.

“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.

“Dont,” you started.

“No. We’re getting you out of there-”

“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.

Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19.

Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him. And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.

You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.

It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.

“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.

You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest.

“Caliban?” you asked.

“You owe me double.”

4 DAYS LATER

When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.

You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.

“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.

It wakes everyone up.

Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.

“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.

“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.

Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.

“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.”

You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”

You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.

“Hi.” you say.

His face softens, “Hi.”

“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.

With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”

You wince.

“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.”

He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh.

“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.

“He didn’t explicitly say that.”

There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.

“What?” he asks.

“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.

The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.

He nods his head to himself. Twice.

“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door. And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.

“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.

He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.

“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.

“it’s a date.” you answer.

#dc x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #dc #nightwing #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd x reader #Jason todd imagine

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jq37 · 3 years

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The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 2

The Girls Are Fighting!!!

We return to Aguefort Adventuring Academy where the man himself has just told the Seven Maidens that their party is being split up which they are NOT having even though it doesn’t seem to be a malicious plot so much as the fact that Danielle, Ostentatia, and Zelda are Juniors while the other four are graduating Seniors. Antiope casts Hunter’s Mark on Aguefort, Penny pleads, Katja threatens (well, “threatens”; she walks up menacingly and then says that he can’t do this because it’s the only group of friends she’s ever had and it’s heartbreaking like all of her non-hilarious dialogue is).

Aguefort understands that it sucks and has no respect for rules but says it’s out of his hands. Sam clocks that he’s hiding something (along with the fact that he seems to know about something going on with Antiope and Penny which we know is their respective internship/apprenticeship offers) and calls him out, hitting him with a Lightning Lure to drag his ass back when he tries to turn into a bat and escape out the window. She’s unhinged and I love it.

So does Aguefort who decides to let them in on some school secrets, leaving a decoy while he leads them all to the super secret part of the forbidden library which is bondage themed because sure. Also, Ostentatia is topless for this also because sure. He does a lot of pomp and circumstance to summon a book which Yelle flatly says better not just be the syllabus and it isn’t but she’s close. It’s the bylaws of the school district which he has summoned for the guidelines on the special, magical thing the girls can get so they can graduate together…

Their GEDS!!!!! Trés mystical.

Basically what they need to do is complete a level A, B, or C quest together (which Antiope knows are like the top 3 highest difficulty quests--they go from A-F) and get signoff from the superintendent. But the superintendent has been missing for 12 years and there can’t be a new one until she’s dead (which she isn’t or else they’d be able to appoint a new one). Her name is Tectonya Karkovnya (who I will be calling TK) and Aguefort calls her, “chaotic and impossible to predict,” which coming from him is como se dice, troubling.

Sam pulls out her mirror to do a little snooping on TK’s past and sees that she’s a coppery, earth genasi woman. She also sees her talking to Aguefort and saying that the magic of consciousness is far superior to his beloved chronomancy. Then the scene shifts to show her getting more and more worried as she got deeper into her studies and then going to a dwarven holy site in the Mountains of Chaos with some kind of shadow figure following her.

Penny gets photos of the super cursed bylaws and Arthur leaves since he very much is the principal of the school and has to do his job (ostensibly). With Aguefort gone, the girls discuss the proposition after conscripting a very reluctant Antiope to be their leader (Aabria hilariously improvises that a shaft of sunlight somehow comes down to illuminate her and she has to step out of the spotlight).

They discuss whether they want to do this GED quest or not and Zelda says she wants to but she wants to give anyone who has other stuff going on an out so they don’t feel beholden. Ostentatia immediately shoots back that Zelda is just saying that because she has plans with Gorgug. That brings down the mood and Sam, despite being a water genasi, fans the flames by saying that Gorgug has lots going on that doesn’t involve her so she shouldn’t be running back to him all the time.

Yelle tries to calm things down and says they should sleep on it but Sam and Ostentatia are taking this super personally and are offended that they’re even having this conversation. Penny accidentally lets slip that she has some kind of apprenticeship (she’s trying to keep it on the DL because it’s supposed to be a secret) and oh man it becomes a Whole Thing. They fight in the way that you do when everyone in the fight actually wants the same thing and cares deeply about each other but are in completely different headspaces which are making them lash out.

Penny, not wanting to be around the conflict, goes invisible. Zelda is suppressing going into a rage and says that maybe she should go be with Gorgug. At least he won’t yell at her. Yelle once again tries to cool things down and suggests they have a text thread where they can say if they’re in or out by the end of the night instead of hashing it out in the open. She’s accused of not being in and, in response, texts that she’s in. Ostentatia and Sam also immediately text that they’re in, which basically makes her “solution” entirely moot.

Zelda is finally fully fed up and leaves (Penny following invisibly). Katja also follows.

Antiope can tell that Sam is upset about something that’s not this but Sam brushes her off rudely and storms off (quite literally, causing storm clouds outside in her wake). Yelle goes after her. Ostentatia is left with Antiope.

Time for a string of very emotional mini scenes which I highly encourage you to watch because they are peak improv.

Zelda, Katja, (Invisible) Penny

Katja runs to find Zelda who is under a tree crying and asks if she’s OK. Zelda says that Sam and Ostentatia are so beautiful and confident and eloquent and she gets so tongue tied and useless when they disagree with her because she’s so timid. Zelda wants this so bad but she doesn’t want to feel like she’s forcing her friends to stay with her.

Katja, as we know, has major abandonment issues because of her constantly away dad (and prob her mom too) and she doesn’t want to be left behind again but she also doesn’t want her friends to factor her in so she tries to be stoic and says that the people you love have to want to stay. But with a 3, Zelda immediately clocks the emotion behind the words. Instead of calling her out, Zelda offers to listen to music with her.

Penny takes this opportunity to make herself known (which has got to be terrifying--unless you’re used to it and then it’s like same shit as usual from Ms. Luckstone) and Zelda goat jumps to grab her out of the tree she was crying in above them and tells her that she doesn’t have to go invisible every time there’s conflict. They all agree that they hate confrontation and Rehka gets the funniest lowkey line of the episodes: that she wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t agree on that. We then cut to…

Ostentatia and Antiope

Where Izzy gets the high key funniest moment of the episode by transitioning in with a big, “You know I LOVE confrontation,” which breaks everyone at the table. But she says it as a preface to admitting that she may have been a bit of a bitch to Zelda. She plays coy for like a half second before she breaks down sobbing with Antiope catching her before she sinks fully to the floor. Antiope comforts her and admits that while she wants to stay with the party, she hates having options taken away from her as they have been her whole life effectively. She was honestly kind of relieved when she was trapped in the crystal because it meant all that pressure was gone for a bit. They affirm that they love each other then Ostentatia goes to apologize to Zelda.

Danielle and Sam

Yelle goes to talk to Sam (who she adorably calls “merbae”) and while Sam doesn’t wanna talk about it, Yelle says they don’t have to. She just wants to be there for her in whatever capacity she needs. She knows Sam loves her friends and would never hurt them on purpose so something must be wrong with her-- “History of abandonment?” Sam finishes, almost glibly. She’s tired of losing people. She doesn’t want to lose more. She doesn’t want things to change. Nature is change, Yelle says. Nature sucks, Sam says. Yelle is gonna pretend like she didn't hear that.

Sam feels bad that she snapped at Zelda and Yelle says that they’re all a family. Things will be alright. The storm clouds that Sam reflexively summoned peter out into a cool, refreshing mist.

Ostentatia and Zelda

Ostentatia goes to where Zelda and the girls are and full ass runs at her like they weren’t just fighting. After assuring her that she’s not there to fight she apologizes, saying she was a cow. Zelda says she honestly agrees with Ostentatia that she wants the group to stay together and wishes she could be bolder in non-rage settings. Ostentatia says that maybe if the Seniors leave they can still have a party and Penny vetos that even though, as Ostentatia says, it’s a pretty reasonable compromise. Anyway, they basically all go in a circle saying they love each other and it’s very sweet.

I’m serious, I can’t do these heart to hearts justice in this format, just go watch them for that emotional girl group goodness.

Anyway, outside of the main group, Antiope goes to talk to her sister Corsica who is currently teaching a class. Antiope does not give AF. She orders the students out and they scatter. Wouldn’t you?

Antiope wants advice. Should she stay with her party after flaming out of her last one? Should she take the internship and stay on the path her parents want her on? Corsica really feels for her. Antiope has had to struggle in a way that she and their brothers never did. She finally answers that she and her brothers are awesome and successful fighters but none of them have been able to do the scariest thing possible: disappoint their parents. They’re soldiers. They like it that way. They fall in line. But maybe Antiope isn’t a soldier. Maybe she’s a leader. She ordered those kids out of the room without thinking after all and they obeyed. It’s an extremely good speech and Antiope basically has chills, as do I.

I assume while this is happening or perhaps right before everyone goes home, Penny goes to see Jawbone (who has some spiffy new art--as did Gilear who cameoed early in the episode when Aguefort atomic wedgied him invisibly because sure) and talk about this uber difficult decision she had to make. Jawbone gets to the heart of the matter pretty quick. Penny is a high achiever who’s lived a life without choice. But now that she’s about to be off the rails for the time she’s freaking out. Penny sees the truth in the statement (after hilariously trying to solve his metaphor about an amusement park) and thanks him for the perspective. She then, in a very Fig move, tries to kiss him and Jawbone basically stiff arms her and breezes right past like it didn’t happen, showing her out. What a trooper that Jawbone.

Moving on to Katja. When she gets home she tries to call her dad who is unreachable on his hell mission. She leaves him a message saying that he should call her back when he can and she knows what she wants for her graduation present now. She wants her party to not break up. This breaks Brennan and me.

She then snoops arounds for info on TK. She sees letters of her dad trying to get her into Hudol. And she sees some stuff from the Ministry of Adventure, asking if he knew where TK was. But she doesn’t get anything else. At least, she doesn’t get anything else that’s helpful. She does however find a picture of her mom which makes her bolt to go talk to Cinnamon who prances for her to make her feel better. She joins in dancing, badly.

EDIT: I initially wrote that Katja’s mom was dead because that’s what I thought she said but @ennn said that in the Adventuring Party, Rekha said that her mom didn’t die, she left. Which is less dramatic in some ways but SO MUCH WORSE for abandonment issues so, yikes girl!

Yelle meanwhile goes home to talk to her unofficial third mom, Holly, who is the awakened tree under which her house is. Picture a Grandmother Willow situation from Pocahantas basically. Yelle talks about the conflict a bit and, as usual, ends up on a tangent about how the world is unfair and she has to speak for the voiceless. Holly is concerned for her (as are her other moms which I may have neglected to mention in the last recap). She asks Yelle if she can tell her something that might be painful. Yelle agrees. Holly says that Yelle is great and wonderful and kind but she spends so much time speaking for other people that she never speaks for herself. Her moms worry that there will come a day when she needs help and will have to ask for it without couching it in terms of the greater good and she won’t be able to.

Yelle really hopes she’s high when the time comes.

At her home, Ostentatia casts Commune With The City to see if TK has been around and she’s not there now but she can tell she has been (though there’s no indication on if that’s recently or not). On a 17 religion check she knows that there is a dwarven holy site in the mountains that matches Sam’s description from the mirror. She’s still avoiding her dad but when she prays for her spells, she asks for her dad to feel like himself again too.

Hey, what time is it? Let me check my watch.

Ah yes, it’s time for Sam to make some rash decisions.

She feels like she should text Zelda but doesn’t. Instead, she goes into Penelope’s room. And she takes out her mirror. And even though she’s expended the charge for today, she tries to make it show her Penelope.

OK, says Brennan. Sure. Hey, can you roll me a quick little Wisdom Save?

Haha, Sam’s in danger.

The mirror heats up as it’s pushed beyond its limits and Sam sees an image of a young Penelope with braces grabbing her hands and grinning and saying that they’ll be best friends. Then, the image shifts and she sees the Penelope of the present in her tattered prom queen dress and glass shard crown. Her eyeless, haunting, demon prom queen form, teeth razor sharp as her words.

“A call without a text,” she says. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You look better than you ever did alive,” Sam spits back.

It is a battle of the bitches right out of the gate. The girls are fighting part two if you will. They snipe at each other for a bit and Brennan has Sam roll insight into herself. On a 19, Sephie says that’s not enough for Sam to get a read on herself (yikes girl) so she doesn’t understand that this fight can only ruin her because while Penelope enjoys causing people pain, Sam doesn’t.

They both get in some very choice barbs but when Penelope tries to entice her into making a devilish pact and disparages her new party, Sam does the mic drop of the century by telling her that her parents are divorcing and hanging up. The entire table LOSES THEIR MIND. It is like a real life representation of one of those Draw The Squad memes. Everyone brandishes their fans in a salute to that truly epic conversation ender.

As the night draws to a close, Brennan asks the girls who haven’t responded to the text chain yet if they respond. Katja texts that she’s in. Zelda texts Antiope and Penny that she’s not going to text whether she’s in or out until they respond because she doesn’t want it to feel like a 5 on 2 dogpile.

Antiope and Penny call then text, then call, then text, then call each other to discuss what they should do and also hype each other up because with all the drama, they didn’t really get to celebrate their opportunities. Penny tries to downplay her thing and insinuates that it wouldn’t be a big loss if she wasn’t in the group anymore and Antiope shuts that down immediately. You’re the last thing so many people see before they die Penny! That’s so cool!

They both decide to text that they’re abstaining from voting for now and go to bed.

The next day, Antiope gets up and sees that her party’s schedule has been cleared for the next two weeks by the school for quest reasons. She tells her dad she wants to talk to Charity Blythe (the woman at the Ministry of Adventure she needs to talk do) and he sets up a no pressure (but actually tons of pressure) meeting with her before turning her 5 mile run into a 12 mile run because she is a Jones and 5 mile runs are for Amateurs.

Ant texts the rest of the Maidens that this meeting is happening so they can maybe get some quest info from Charity and Ostentatia has in the meantime texted (after the 2 abstains) that she will be going for the GED regardless and anyone who wants to join can. Of course, there was never any reason to NOT go for it (besides the danger which they obv don’t care about) and getting it doesn’t mean any doors are closed to them. It’s just that emotions are running so high they can’t fully seem to see that (or at least some members can’t).

Ant doesn’t have the clearance to meet at Charity’s office so they meet at the Museum of Adventuring instead. In it happens to be the skeleton of Kalvaxus who they killed (if you don’t remember, the Bad Kids killed him first and then he was resurrected so the Maidens could also kill him for catharsis reasons). Tensions are still super high as evidenced by Sam’s snide abstention comment to Penny and Ant and then by her TRYING TO LIGHTNING BOLT THE DRAGON SKELETON TO DESTROY IT.

GIRL.

That doesn't happen though because she’s Counterspelled by Charity Blythe who walks in, surprised to see that Antiope brought her whole party. Antiope says they were just leaving but Charity can sense shenanigans when she sees them and says if they’re gonna spy on the conversation they might as well stay for it which they of course do.

She gives Antiope a rundown of the internship: 1 year commitment with a possibility to expand to 2-3 years. Stipend. She’d have to live in Bastion City.

Katja remembers that her dad was talking to the Ministry of Adventure in the letters she found and asks Charity about it. Charity says they were asking him about TK’s whereabouts because he was friends with her. On that, Yelle casts Detect Thoughts with a Stealth roll of 17 (we see on a secret Box of Doom roll that Charity got a 26 to see her cast it). Anyway, she sees that TK took some object with her when she disappeared (which she later sees is a crystal screen with a map seemingly marking quest locations from A-F) and of course the fact that Charity knows this. Yelle shares this info with everyone as Antiope walks off with Charity to talk further. Katja suggests to the group that maybe Ant should take the internship to get more info for their quest. While she’s talking to Charity, Ant feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

See looks up and sees a figure with blood red lips look at her and disappear.

Yikes! Combat time baybee!

Superlatives

Danielle: Most Likely to Talk Her Way Out of a Hostage Situation

While, like her mothers, I am slightly concerned that Danielle is the type to set fire to herself to make sure others are warm, I also very much love her chill, warm, encouraging vibes. For those of you coming off of MisMag, she is like vibing at the same wavelength as Whitney Jammer but with the intensity turned all the way down. Danielle encouraging Sam honestly gave me like second hand calm. Excellent vibes.

Random Thoughts

If you’re wondering how long it took for it to come up that Aguefort banged a phoenix, the answer is 12 minutes.

The concept of phoenix chlamydia is the definition of thanks, I hate it.

Aguefort saying that TK is a crazy person could literally mean anything tbh. It could mean she is the most batshit person on the planet or it could mean she’s totally normal and just kinda bugs him. Literally no way to tell.

Someone (I think Rekha?) mentioned that the cursed bylaws book is copper and so is TK. Idk if that’s relevant but thought I’d flag it anyway.

We learn in this episode that the friendship bracelets Penny made them last week let them track each other and see each other even if one of the in knocked out (which is what gives it utility outside of what their crystals can already do).

We learn in this episode that Skullcleaver Elementary School is actually named after Katja’s family.

Nothing like the fear you feel when a DM gives you what you wanted even on a failure. And on that note...

Sam, I wish you a very happy Please Go To Therapy. Please girl.

This episode was such an emotional roller coaster. I deeply empathize with the horrible feeling that your friends have stuff going on and you don’t and you’re going to be left behind. It’s so rough to see everyone hurting and lashing out (or in the case of Yelle for instance, trying and failing to diffuse the situation). But it’s so nice to see everyone trying to be there for each other and apologizing and affirming that they love each other (from Antiope saying that she would kill and die for any of them to Danielle defusing the ticking timebomb that is Sam). The players really get the cadence of how teenage girl friendship works and it’s such a treat to watch.

“Did we ruin your life?”

Do you think ep 7 of The Seven is gonna be when everything pops off? As a DM I wouldn’t be able to resist that.

Penny’s response to being told that she can’t take every path is, “You can with chronomancy” which isn’t a bad point.

Rekha is the Zac of The Seven which is to say low key the funniest person on the planet. Her saying she was so scared that she wasn’t gonna be told “I love you” during that scene was so funny. Her comic timing is impeccable.

Katja fainting at the end of the “I love you” session after Penny says she loves her and Cinnamon.

I love the table ambient whisper of, “LCAB” under Antiope’s scene with Corsica.

I really felt for Zelda in this episode. Like, I felt for everyone but especially her, being the quiet one with all this yelling happening. When she was talking about how much she hates to have to fight with Sam/O my heart really broke for her. I’m so glad she got all her hugs in after that.

In this episode Katja, Ostentatia, and Sam roll nat 1s. No nat 20s.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #fantasy high #the seven #the seven spoilers

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modernday-jay · 3 years

Note

i love your office au, do you have anything you wanna share?

i've been avoiding talking about this because i wanted to draw it all out and have it be revealed in parts but i think i'm a bit too lazy for that

BUT, i have always thought about the timeline for it like... if this was a show, this would happen here. like "this season would be abt that, oh the finale would be this, etc etc" y'know? so here's the vague outline i had (and yeah, it's VERY fruk-centric)

season 1

romerica/geritapan

it would start out with the beginning of alfred's time as a manager, he's just trying to figure out how to run the business and how to get everyone on board with his ideas.

lovino's current struggle is that he's got a huge crush on alfred but y'know, now that alfred's his boss it's just a weird power dynamic that he doesn't like so he's TRYING to get over it. it doesn't help that feliciano is constantly trying to talk to him about his love life and his complicated feelings over ludwig/kiku

fruk

fruk are just mean desk mates that usually bully each other OR team up to bully alfred, who used to sit with them and yao when he was just a normal salesman.

slowly it'd reveal that arthur writes smut on his computer, and that francis reads it. and the season finale would be the part where they stay back overtime and ALMOST sleep together, which i get into more detail in this post

season 2

romerica

alfred’s really upset that his coworkers (who used to like him!) refuse to listen to him, so he tries really hard to boost office morale with a raffle. unfortunately, no one puts their name into it :( that day, when everyones leaving the office, lovino notices alfred near the box being all sad and even though he’s been trying to make some distance between them, he can’t help but ask what’s wrong. alfred says smth sad like “gee maybe i’m not good enough to be a manager, huh?” and leaves, so lovino’s left staring at the box.

the next day the raffle box is FULL of names by lunch, and alfred’s like MAD excited about this. he takes a paper out and calls out “arthur? arthur you won the raffle buddy!” and arthur’s just like ??? i didn’t put my name in ??? and he’s right, he didn’t. but lovino spent his whole night writing down everyones names a couple of times and put them all in when alfred left for lunch. alfred doesn’t know this, and lovino obviously never gets credit where it’s due, but it’s worth it to see alfred at least a little more confident again.

fruk

fruk shenanigans where they're sneaking around and sorta half dating?? but they're both stubborn and don't want to admit to each other that they actually want to pursue a weird relationship. explained more in this post!

everyone kinda knows what's going on because they're really obvious, except for alfred. but alfred notices that SOMETHING'S weird because the sales from both francis and arthur have been going down lately (because they're too busy hooking up around the office, but alfred thinks it's because they must miss him, so he tries to hold an intervention for them where he tries to tell them to stop missing him so much!) + yao actually catches them in the act which makes both arthur and francis panic

season finale would be arthur going down for a smoke break with joao, but then gilbert and antonio are making fun of arthur because of the smut (as they should), arthur gets embarrassed and confronts francis about it which leads to them having a big fight. and arthur would get a chance to say the stuff in this post

season 3

fruk

this one opens with arthur at a new branch and he’s just like “i had to move for... reasons” (reasons being the fact that he can’t deal with his feelings for francis anymore so he just runs away from it)

obviously francis is pretty crushed about this but he won’t admit it. arthur probably comes back halfway through the season and they finally talk about their relationship properly, because the time away from each other made them realise how much they needed each other and all that sappy stuff

season 4

romerica

alfred needs to go to a conference and brings lovino along with him for a quirky little roadtrip. we also meet ivan here! by this time, lovino thinks he’s gotten over his feelings for alfred completely but the roadtrip reminds him of the good times they had when alfred was just a salesman. they end up kissing but alfred pulls back, obviously a little heartbroken and says “hey, we can’t... i’m your boss... but you’re still my bestfriend so can we just stay friends?” and lovino just stares at him for a sec before nodding. it’s a little awkward for them the rest of the way home.

when they’re back at the office, alfred ends up absorbing himself into his work since ivan sparked that rivalry in him and lovino’s stopped talking to him aside from normal work talk.

fruk

things are finally going good for them, they’re dating and finally have a steady relationship. their numbers are finally up because now they’re hooking up AFTER work hours, and they finally tell the entire office. alfred is the only one surprised.

season 5

romerica

so throughout all the seasons, lovino would show a big interest in art and it turns out that he’s pretty great at painting. he’d love to pursue art school or something like that, but until now he’s been too scared to try it out. his relationship with alfred is weird and he thinks that NOW is finally the time to try and do something new. working for alfred’s proving to be too hard. he doesn’t tell anyone, but he finally applies for art school and he gets in! he still works at the office though while he’s studying because y’know, he still needs the money

fruk

after a good long while of dating, one of them proposes. alfred comes in late the day they’re announcing it, so arthur has to repeat it and alfred TACKLES him in excitement because he’s THAT happy for them - like this scene

the season would end with their wedding. alfred cries when arthur doesn’t ask him to be his best man lmao

season 6

canukr

ANOTHER wedding, it’s not a season finale type deal since katya and matthew are just side characters but it’s a fun opportunity for hijinks between alfred and ivan. plus, alfred finally gets to be a best man!

fruk

just them navigating marriage. they’re scared they’re becoming boring so they try to spice things up every once in a while and their hijinks become increasingly more stupid throughout the season.

romerica

nothing much really happens between them, but they are starting to be friends again but there’s still that tension. lovino likes alfred and alfred likes lovino, but alfred also likes his job.

season 7

fruk

they eventually calm down and finally start talking about making their family bigger. they choose to adopt two baby girls at the end of the season

romerica

lovino’s finished art school and by the end of the season, he finds a new job as an art teacher. he’s reluctant to leave this job because he was afraid to mess up something he ACTUALLY enjoys, but alfred encourages him to go ahead with it because even though he’d miss seeing him everyday, this is lovino’s dream!

it’s really sad and dramatic UNTIL they both realise... alfred’s not his boss anymore, they can finally try out a relationship. the final episode ends with alfred coming to this realisation, running out to the parking lot before lovino can leave the office for the last time to kiss him!

#whoopsie #this went on longer than i expected #I JUST GOT EXCITED OKAY #sorry i've only really focused on romerica and fruk so far but yeah #have this <3 #office au!#long post #hws america #hws france #hws england #hws south italy #i'll only tag them because everyone else comes up as a passing thought lmao #fruk #romerica

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starryeyedweeb · 3 years

Text

Valentine’s Day with Haikyuu

*DISCLAIMER*: As I’m over eighteen, I write all underaged characters aged up to eighteen or older.

Contains: Copious amounts of sickly-sweet fluff, gender neutral reader

Characters Included: Sugawara Koushi, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Tetsurou Kuroo

A Valentine’s Day with...

Sugawara Koushi

For Valentine’s Day, Sugawara wants to go beyond buying you the average box of chocolates.

He wants to make you a box of chocolates, and to make it even better, he wants to include you in on the activity.

And of course, he does it in the most adorable way possible, buying heart-shaped molds, Valentine’s sprinkles, edible glitter...

When you arrive for the date, he’s waiting behind the kitchen counter for you, wearing a frilly pink apron over his clothes

“What do you have on?” you laugh, approaching the workstation.

“Do you like it?” He pulls a duplicate out and slips it around your neck. “I got you one, too.”

“Oh my god, you’re too cute!”

“I’m cuter when I’m not hungry,” he replies, tapping your nose. “Let’s get started.”

You volunteer for the task of melting the chocolate to be poured into the molds solely for the purpose of sneaking a taste

Or three

Meanwhile Sugawara is behind you, readying the decorating supplies

“I’m done here,” he announces a few minutes later. “How are you doing? Do you need any help?”

“I think I’ve got it covered here! It’s almost ready to be poured.” you answer, turning around to grab the molds

But Sugawara bursts into laughter when he catches sight of your face

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Just look at yourself.” He opens his phone camera and you discover your mouth completely slathered in chocolate. “You’ve been sneaking tastes, haven’t you?”

“Oh, this is embarrassing.” You go to wipe your mouth, but Sugawara catches your wrist.

“No, I’ll get it.”

And he leans in and gives you a long, wet kiss that leaves your head spinning.

“There. All cleaned up.”

Once the chocolate is in the molds and the two of you are waiting for it to set up, you share the task of licking up the chocolate left in the bowl

And when Sugawara gets some smeared across his cheek, it’s your opportunity to return his favor

Which turns into a long makeout session on the kitchen counter, the two of you only coming back to reality when you accidentally knock the (thankfully sealed) container of sprinkles onto the floor

“Um,” you pull back and clear your throat, Sugawara’s face still only centimeters away from yours, “do you think the chocolates are ready to be decorated now?”

Upon returning to your task and finding the chocolate set, the two of you station yourselves side-by-side, decorating the little candies with each other’s preferences in mind

“Shall we taste-test?” Koushi suggests once the two of you finish, and you each pop a chocolate into the other’s mouth

“How does it taste?” you ask, watching his face for his reaction.

“It’s sweet, just like you.” He breaks into an almost childish grin.

“You’re so cheesy.” You reach out and squeeze his chin. “I love it.”

He swoops you in for another tender kiss. “I love you, too.”

Kageyama Tobio

You had known for a while that a traditional Valentine’s Day with Kageyama was off the table due to the fact that he had a game scheduled on that day for weeks

But he did his part in trying to make sure you were together for the holiday by getting you tickets to see the match

To you, that was a great way to spend Valentine’s- you absolutely loved the pride you felt in people knowing that the extremely talented Kageyama was yours.

Even if his teammates did tease him a little bit every time you were in their presence

He made time to see you before the game started, and you were able to give him your traditional miniature pep talk

Which he always swore he didn’t need, but he never failed to play better when he’d had one

“Well, good luck,” you say just before he goes to meet his team, wrapping him in a hug. “Don’t let me distract you too much.”

“I don’t get distracted, dummy,” he mutters back, but ruffles your hair and sends you an assured smile as he strides towards the gym entrance

You find your seat, which is right in front of the cheer squad, who welcomes you enthusiastically

And as Kageyama takes the court, he catches your eye and raises a hand in a small wave

You blow him a kiss in reply, mouthing “Good luck!”

The match begins, and it becomes clear early on that you weren’t going to have the intended experience of watching your boyfriend play in a fun match, for it turns out to be quite a struggle

Your nails are soon chewed to the quick and your voice is hoarse from shouting encouragements

But when Tobio glances at you during every time-out, you do your best to look completely assured, and send him big smiles

The match eventually reaches the point of a deuce on the third set, and you’re leaned over your legs, looking at the court through your fingers, and someone on the cheer squad is patting your back comfortingly

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this,” you admit, laughing at yourself. “It’s just a game. But I want Kags to be happy.”

Kageyama comes to serve at match point, and you can’t help but to stand from your seat in anticipation

And when he scores the winning point with a service ace, you scream in delight

As the team celebrates on the court and the cheer squad celebrates behind you, you sprint out of the stands and burst through the gym entrance

Kageyama spots you immediately and dashes towards you

You launch yourself into his embrace, and he hugs you so tightly that your feet dangle off the ground

“I’m so proud of you,” you cry, tears spilling from your eyes

“I’m sweaty,” he murmurs against your shoulder, his voice almost drowned out by the happy commotion still echoing throughout the court

“I don’t care,” you mutter back, holding him even tighter.

When the team goes for their celebratory dinner, they allow you to come along

You sit across from Tobio, watching his bright expression as his teammates excitedly recap the events of the game

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he eventually asks, his mouth full.

“Nothing,” you reply, chuckling. “I just love seeing you so happy.”

“Does it bother you that we couldn’t do something different for Valentine’s Day?”

“Not at all. This was perfect. I’m so happy, I feel like I was on the court with you!”

“Well, I’m not a completely terrible boyfriend. I did do something.”

“What do you mean?”

Kageyama motions for you to look behind yourself, where you spot the waiter holding a tray with a miniature cake, the words “Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n” written on the plate in icing, a candle lit on top

You gasp in delight as the plate is placed in front of you, and you take a moment to make a wish before blowing out the candle

You share the cake with Kageyama whilst half of the team makes fun of him for the romantic gesture and the other half complains because they’re not getting any cake

His cheeks turn pink in response, but from the way his lips twitch, you can tell he’s fighting a smile

“So, what did you wish for?” he asks after offering you the last bite.

“That I get to be there every time you win.”

Tsukishima Kei

Tsukishima was honestly not looking forward to Valentine’s Day

He didn’t really have any idea of what to do that wasn’t the same old stuff, but was coming up empty on any alternate ideas

So it came as a relief to him when you suggested going to see the new museum exhibit that had come to town

The bonus was that it was reminiscent of your first date, which had been a visit to the local natural history museum

Which was when you learned that, as prickly as Tsukishima was, he was also a massive dork

On the fourteenth, the two of you meet on the steps of the museum, looking like an absolute dark academia dream together

The exhibit you bought tickets to was a special Valentine’s Day event, which featured pieces all centered around love, dating from the prehistoric period to modern art

The two of you follow each other around and take those artsy “Look, I’m looking at art,” photos of each other, but as museum-goers, the two of you like to watch the other people just as much as the artwork

In most of the rooms, you sit on the bench that’s placed in the center, observing the people that come in and predicting which piece will be their favorite

And then you guess which piece is each other’s favorite

You keep a tally of how many you both got right, with the agreement that the loser would have to buy snacks afterward

But the two of you know each other so well that you end up perfectly tied

The last room of the exhibit is a digital project, where couples step into a booth and take a photo together to be displayed in a massive collage on the screens lining the walls

“Come on, Kei, please?” You tug on his arm. “Let’s do it.”

“I won’t do any stupid poses,” he warns.

“Do you really think I would make you do that?” You pull aside the curtains and wave him into the booth. “Just do something that feels natural.”

After Tsukishima sits down on the bench and you close the curtain, he stretches out a long arm and presses the button for the photo to be taken.

“Wait, Kei, I’m not ready!” You shriek as the three-second countdown begins, and he responds by pulling you down onto his lap

Your photo turns out completely adorable, with your laughing expression obscuring half his face, only his smiling eyes showing over the top of your head, and enough of your bodies visible to show his arms wrapped tightly around you, your hands laying over his

To your delight, the booth then prints out two copies of the photo so that you could each take one home

You exit the booth and go to find your photo on the wall, discovering a girl standing in front of where it had shown up

She turns when you approach, realizing that you’re the couple in the photo, and makes a pouting expression.

“You two are so cute.”

When you and Kei leave the exhibit, you stop for coffee in the museum’s cafe, discussing your favorite pieces of the night

“That last one was pretty cool,” he admits, hiding his expression behind his cup. “How they made it interactive, you know.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to admit why it’s your favorite,” you tease, reaching across the table and patting his hand. “I know why.”

At the end of the night, Kei walks you home and gives you a sweet parting kiss, waiting to make sure you’re safely inside before turning to walk back to his place

Though he makes a quick pit stop to buy a small picture frame

Once he’s back in his room, he pulls out the photo the two of you had taken in the booth and slips it into the frame, setting it on his nightstand

When he climbs into bed, he angles the frame to face him, staring at your laughing face and feeling warmth spread across his chest

“Love you,” he mutters to himself, turning off the light and drifting off to sleep.

Tetsurou Kuroo

Kuroo’s objective for Valentine’s Day was to do something that would get your heart pounding and bring the two of you closer, so he browsed some ideas until he landed on one that seemed interesting: an escape room.

He reserved one that was meant for pairs, but the booking came with a disclaimer.

While he’s reserving your time slot, he glances up from his computer with a dangerously blank expression

“You’re alright with being handcuffed and blindfolded, right?”

“Excuse me? Where did that come from?”

“I’m making plans for Valentine’s Day.”

“What the hell kind of plans are you making?” you demand, not sure whether to be frightened or amused, and his refusal to answer doesn’t abate your anxiety

You trust Kuroo, but you’re beginning to wonder if that trust is a poor decision.

When Valentine’s Day arrives, it comes as a relief when he walks you up to the escape room’s storefront.

“Well, your earlier question makes a lot more sense now.”

“Are you disappointed that it didn’t turn out to be something different?” He teasingly raises a brow, and you shove him playfully.

The experience starts with the moderators instructing you to choose one person to be blindfolded, and one person to be handcuffed

You and Kuroo decide through rock-paper-scissors, and the result turns out to be you in the blindfold and him in the handcuffs

The moderators lead you into the starting room, which is only about the size of a closet, and lock the door behind you

Your bodies are pressed right up against one another, making the first challenge of getting out of your blindfold and handcuffs quite a difficult one

You would think that you could just reach up and slide the cloth off of your eyes, but the room is so small that you can’t even lift your arms up.

“Well, this is nice,” Kuroo comments, his breath tickling your ear. “Should we just stay like this?”

“I think it would get very sweaty very quickly.”

“All the better.”

“Later, babe. I’m interested in this now. And there’s got to be some sort of other door around here,” you conclude. “I just need to find some way to get my blindfold off so I can look for it.”

“I can help you get it off.”

“How? You’re handcuffed.”

“Just hold still.”

You feel something gently scrape against your face, and when your vision is unobstructed, you see the blindfold dangling from Kuroo’s mouth.

“Did you use your teeth?”

“I couldn’t think of any other way.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie, that was hot.” You notice the outline of another door behind Kuroo. “Hold still. I found the door.”

In order to reach it, you had to wrap him in a tight embrace, your arms brushing against his hips as you reach for the doorknob.

And you start to realize exactly why this particular scenario was meant for couples.

“Okay. Now use your ass to open it,” You instruct, and Kuroo complies with a smirk, revealing the next chamber and a million clues, which you can’t resist checking out immediately

“Aren’t you going to help me get out of these handcuffs?” Kuroo complains, and you fix him with a smirk.

“I think I like you better that way.”

After a playful stare-off, you reach around him and pull the key off the hook behind the door. “Here.”

Once Kuroo is free, the two of you dash around, quickly solving the clues already laid out and uncovering new ones

The both of you work amazingly well together, and with Kuroo’s intelligence, you’re able to escape the room in a record-setting time

Which would’ve been even shorter had you focused the whole time and not found something to laugh at or tease each other about every five minutes

Banter truly defined your relationship

Because you set a record, the staff wanted to take your picture to put on their wall

But as you’re getting in position in front of the themed backdrop, Kuroo announces that he forgot something, and runs in the direction of the lockers, leaving you staring after him in confusion

But when he returns, he presents you with a bouquet of roses, a little cat plushie poking its head out the top

“I wanted to do something traditional,” he explains, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Kuroo! I love it. Thank you, baby.” You take the flowers and stretch up to show your gratidue through a kiss, and when your lips lock, out of the corner of your eye you see the flash of a camera

And when the staff member offers to show you the photo before it gets printed, you discover that it’s the most adorable picture of you and Kuroo that you’ve ever seen in your life, and you immediately ask to take a copy home

As you’re leaving the escape room, your attention is so completely focused on the printed photo that Kuroo has to take your arm and guide you in the right direction, steering you away from wandering straight into traffic

“Why do you keep staring at that picture?”

“It’s just so cute, don’t you think?” You angle it towards him. “Don’t freak out by me saying this, but it almost reminds me of a picture of a proposal.”

Kuroo averts his gaze forward, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “Well, I guess we have plans for next Valentine’s all figured out.”

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trashboatprince · 3 years

Text

The anniversary for the Bioshock au was just this weekend (actually on the official anniversary for the game Bioshock, what a coincidence!), and my friends and I decided to do something for it today!

While they have chosen to redraw some of their original art for the au, I had planned to rewrite something I had written ages ago, but then an idea came to me!

So, you guys get a new fic!

Warning: mentioned experiments, mentioned body horror, sad thoughts

As always, Henry belongs to @inkspottie, Ross belongs to @thedobermutt, and Delta is my Henry!

On with the fic!

Henry, Ross, and Delta made their way around the old lounge bar that they had broken into, with Henry looking for supplies, Ross scouting the area for any splicers or searchers hidden about, and Delta was securing the door, making sure no one got in.

Once the coast was clear and the door secured, they could finally relax, which Delta was so thankful for. They had gotten into another big fight and he needed to check to see if his suit was still in good order. He had only just changed into this one earlier in the the day since his other one was damaged beyond repair, he had to make sure this one was still good to go.

Trudging over with tired feet, he sat himself down on the floor by the large floor-to-ceiling windows, the glow of the city in the ocean illuminating the room for them. “Bendy, a little help?” He asked the Li’l Devil, who had been helping Henry look about.

Bendy perked up and ran over, knowing exactly what to do. He started to help with unhooking the large tanks on Delta’s back as the Big Daddy worked on the suit. He needed to get out of it to make sure his examination was thorough.

Ross looked up from where he was sitting on a sofa, raising an eyebrow at the other man. “Delta, what are you doing?”

“Checkin’ my suit.” He replied, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. He hissed, shuddering when Bendy got the tanks disconnected from not only his suit but from the ports in his back. Never a pleasant feeling, uhg.

“Are you... getting out of it?” Henry frowned, walking over, his arms carrying the items he had picked up before depositing them on a table nearby.

“Kinda have to.” Delta replied as he worked to get himself out of the suit. “Not for too long, not like when I was panickin’ earlier when I was, ya know, sorta dyin’.”

It had been an emergency, he needed a new suit, new tanks, he was sadly stuck with these things to live, due to what had happened to his body.

He stepped out of his suit, luckily wearing pants and a shirt under it, he wasn’t one for being indecent even in his own gear, but he knew the other two could see his arms, his neck.

They saw it earlier, when they helped him get into his new suit, all the scars and damage done by the Big Daddy project. He didn’t think much of it at the time, but Delta felt a little self-conscious now.

Oh, they had seen what INK did to the splicers, the damaged skin and minds, but Delta’s had all been controlled. He had been tested on, his face left normal for reasons he had never been told, but the rest of him was a mess.

And with his healing abilities due to the splicing projects, his wounds healed quickly, but still scarred, over and over again.

“Is...” Henry started, but shut his mouth.

“You’re fine to ask.” Delta replied, sitting down, letting Bendy hook the tanks back into his back, he held back a yelp at the sensation. He picked up one of the sleeves of his suit, looking it over, avoiding eye contact.

Henry coughed, before speaking again. “Is it... painful? The scars?”

“Stopped bein’ that way years ago, kid.” Delta replied, frowning at the cut he found, asking for the sewing kit he knew Bendy had stored in his hammerspace.

“Is it from battles?” Ross asked. “Or from what Joey had done to you?”

“Both, mostly the latter.” The tallest of the trio sighed as he got to work on repairing the cut. “Nasty effects, splicin’, INK. I used to be a scrawny thing, ya know? About as skinny as you, Henry. But that wasn’t for long, had to be built like a damn tank for this work!”

He kept his eyes on his task. “I was normal for maybe a week? Just health exams, Norman told me, nothin’ serious, had to make sure everythin’ was in workin’ order. Then they started injectin’ INK. It was fine at first, felt healthy, even stronger and faster, then... it got worse.”

He still remembered when the effects finally kicked in, the horrible pain and heat of his body changing, too fast, too slow, broken bones and damaged skin. Delta looked at his hands, they were trembling, but he pushed on. “It sucked, I don’t know how long it was gonna keep goin’ for, I thought that it would destroy me before anythin’ could really happen. And then...”

He looked at Bendy, who was happily looking out the windows, watching the fish go by. “And then they had me meet Bendy and it was worth it, cause I had a purpose cause of all that.”

“It still wasn’t right.” Ross spoke, a deep look of concern was painted on his face. “You shouldn’t have been forced into this, you didn’t even have a choice.”

“None of us did.” Delta sighed. “Henry didn’t, I didn’t, and you sure as hell didn’t either, Ross. Drew did whatever he wanted to us because everyone here’s his plaything.”

He finished the repair and moved to look for more.

“It’s still not right.” Henry frowned, reaching for a candy bar on the table. “But when we get you up to the surface, you won’t have to worry about this stuff anymore.”

Delta looked up, then looked towards the windows. His eyes drifted to the tanks behind him, and he shook his head. “Guys, I know you want me to come with you when we’re done here, but... I’m not made for the surface anymore, I can’t even go an hour with my tanks off, I need the INK and PAINT. I need my suit.”

Ross shook his head, standing up. He walked over to Delta, looking down at the man still seated on the floor. “Delta, you have to have some faith in us, in Norman. We promised you that we’d get you to the surface, no matter what. Why do you doubt us?”

The Big Daddy blinked, then looked ashamed, rubbing at his bare arms. “I’m... not made for the surface, for a normal life. I dunno what Norman can do to help me survive up there, but what became of me... that’s impossible to change, I can’t go up there with these scars, I’ll look like a monster or somethin’.”

The older man sighed softly. “Look, I know it seems bad, but you’ll have us to help you, to be there for you. Yeah, some people will stare, but that’s on them, not you.”

“We’ll be there with you every step of the way.” Henry smiled a little. “And Norman said he’ll do whatever he can to help you survive without your tanks! You’ll be as normal as you can be! And besides, I’m not all that normal myself, we’re clones, and we’ve got...” He flicked his wrist, bolts of lightening came from his palm, before vanishing.

“Yeah, after all of this, we’re in a similar boat with you, even if it isn’t exactly cosmetic.” Ross chuckled.

Delta looked at the two men he called his friends, a small smile coming to him. “You guys are so weird, but... alright, I mean, I dunno about this, but I would like to finally leave this place, there’s a sun I wanna see.”

“That’s the spirit, Delta.” The smallest of the trio smiled a bit more. “Now, no more of this, let’s just take the break we really need. I am not built for running around like this.”

“I hear that.” Ross sighed, sitting back down.

The Big Daddy looked at them once more, still smiling as he went back to work on checking for damage to his suit, listening to the others talk to each other. He’ll hold them to this, he wasn’t sure how confident he was that he’d get to leave Rapture, but it didn’t hurt to have a little hope.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #bioshock au #henry stein #batim bendy #john's drabbles

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finiteuniverse13 · 3 years

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home is people, not a place 2/?

Part 1

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Lisa is pissed. She has every right to be. Clay had been attacked in the Bravo cages.

She’d watched the kid go from a strap who couldn’t stay in his own lane to an operator who could lead Bravo – and Tier One, for that matter – into the future. And then he’d been attacked in his team’s cages, in his own cage. Blackburn was still at the hospital – he’d found the kid in a pool of his own blood; Lisa wouldn’t blame him if it took an apocalypse to separate him from the kid – making sure that the kid got appropriate care.

She pushed open the door to Bravo’s briefing room, not that it actually had any members of Bravo in it. Alpha, Charlie and Delta were all there, waiting on her brief on the situation. Echo would have been there, if not for them being halfway through their first deployment as a team. There had been hesitation about deploying Echo – the loss of the last Echo line-up still sat heavily in the Tier’s mind.

The three team’s Master Chiefs and 2ICs had sat in Bravo’s usual chairs. Full Metal and Derek sat in Jason and Ray’s chairs, respectively. Beau and his second in command had taken Sonny and Trent’s, while TJ was sat in Brock’s. Delta Two had distinctively chosen not to sit in Clay’s seat, instead sitting in a chair usually used for either Cerberus or a support staff member, depending on the op.

(It was very funny to watch Brock and Clay push a wheely chair with Cerberus on it between the two of them, and they’d pretty much mastered the art of doing it in the last few months. Cerb had found that if he allowed it to happen, he’d get belly rubs and treats, so he was unbothered about it)

The other seats had a random assignment, seemingly first-come-first-serve. The ones unlucky enough to have not found seats stood tensely, arms crossed and grumbling under their breath to each other.

Nobody sat in Clay’s seat.

All 18 operators looked up when she walked in, attention snapping to the person with the most information. As she walked in, her gaze caught on the table space in front of Clay’s chair. Clay had left his book on the table. It’s about as thick as a brick, and Sonny would probably take a glance at it and tell Clay it was as dry as one. The embossed cover didn’t read English, and Lisa had a feeling that there would be very few, if any, people in the room able to read any part of the book.

She stood at the front and pushed her emotions down. These operators were here for information, not emotion.

“At 0145 this morning, 4 Green Team members entered Bravo’s Cage room. At 0157, they left, and returned to the Green Team barracks. 0204, Lieutenant Commander Blackburn entered the Bravo cages. He dialled 911 and was assisted by Alpha Four-”

She cuts herself off for a few seconds, as various operators slapped Jordan on the back, mumbled thanks spreading through the room as they reassured themselves that one of their own had helped their kid.

“Assisted by Alpha Four at 0207. Ambulance arrived at 0215. The Green Team members were apprehended by Alpha and Delta at 0248.”

She pauses again as a ripple of thanks goes through to room, Alpha and Delta thanking their Master Chiefs and each other and Charlie thanking both teams.

“Petty Officer Spenser was admitted to hospital at 0224, and was assessed as having a concussion, a broken nose and 5 bruised ribs.”

Alpha, Charlie and Delta’s medics all take note of this. They’re probably going to be on Clay’s ass for the next few months about this, right behind Trent.

“Bravo arrived at the Hospital at 0243. They are all with him. Hayes has asked that he is included in any appropriate punishments.”

Full Metal snorts. “Bet he didn’t word it like that”

A series of chuckles and grins echoes around the room. He did not word it like that. There was much more swearing, and much, much less formal language. He’d implied murder no less than 5 times.

Lisa allowed a smile to pass through the stony calm façade she had up.

“Command has delegated these appropriate punishments to be carried out within DEVGRU and have stressed the importance of leaving an impression on future graduates. This cannot be a recuring event.”

TJ pipes up first, almost before she’d finished talking. “I say we let Metal work his magic, make sure nobody finds them.”

This gets mixed responses, but Lisa isn’t surprised when none are wholly negative. They all had a younger brother in the form of Clay, and they had all trained for years in the art of killing their enemies as swiftly and efficiently as possible, and these candidates fell wholly and completely under the title of ‘Enemy’.

Metal gives a faux hopeful look to Lisa, and Lisa can tell that he’s not entirely dismissed the possibility, even as he does a terrible job at pretending to still consider it an option that Lisa could authorize. Lisa plays into the joke – god knows that Tier One needs some light in this disastrous day – and gives him the look mostly used for when Bravo (usually Sonny) suggests a stupid idea that shouldn’t had even crossed their minds. Blackburn jokingly referred to it as her “bad dog” look, and it worked for its purpose, making the operators put their tails between their legs. A few faces form smiles, and a few look to be wavering on the edge of smiling.

“No murder, and no death.”

This gets her grumbles, and not all of them are joking. Clay had gotten all of them out of sticky situations. Every operator in Tier One had a handful story where Clay had needed to be briefed on their op, and all of them had at least one where he’d taking calls at 2am to translate over a connection that he could barely hear English through. He’d never berated them for waking him up, and had often taken time to teach various operators key phrases, if he knew they were deploying somewhere where he knew the language.

Beau goes next, possibly the most level-headed of the Master Chiefs – both in the room and not. “Advanced SERE?”

Now this, Lisa can work with. Something about her posture must change, a twitch in her face, because the room suddenly erupts in sound. Charlie Two, Delta Five and Alpha Three all are in close enough range to clap Beau on the back, and they do so in quick succession.

“Gentlemen.” She raises her voice to be heard by the room. There’s nothing gentle about the looks on their faces.

“I’ll leave you to figure something out. Report to me with a plan of action.” And with that, she gives them a single nod and begins to leave. Her turned back does not block out the whispers of violence, but it does hide the vicious smile that’s stretched itself out along her face.

Nobody would even think about hurting their kid. Ever again.

As Clay blearily opened his eyes, he realised that he’d succumbed to pain-med-induced sleep. A few hours had probably passed since then, based on the fact that sunlight was now filling the room. Sonny was sat on his right side, gaze focused on the room’s TV screen, which was showing a play-by-play of a football game. The volume was cranked down, and even as Clay becomes more aware; he can only hear every other word.

“Son?” The word passes his lips without him meaning it to. Sonny’s head snaps over to Clay, so fast that Clay fears he may have given himself whiplash.

“Hey Bam Bam, how ya doin?” The toothpick moves hypnotically. Stop looking at the toothpick. Stop it. Stop it. Sonny’s casual expression is betrayed by the slight waver in his voice, a sliver of raw emotion that Sonny couldn’t fully supress. Clay gives him a strained smile in lieu of answering and reaches his hand out. Sonny catches the hand before it moves very far, holding it in a tight grip.

Sonny’s thumb absently runs across Clay’s unblemished because he hadn’t even been able to fight back knuckles, and his spare hand turns off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“Kid.” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, and he almost pulls his hand out of Sonny’s grip at the softly spoken word. He tries to get in the apology, the explanation, before Sonny can tell him that Jason is punishing him for being unaware.

“I should have being paying attention. I know I should have been paying attention, I was just so tired.” I’m sorry I’m so sorry don’t kick me out please

Sonny freezes. What?

“Clay. Stop. Stop-” he has to cut himself off before he says something that includes those really touchy-feely-emotions he’s feeling. Thankfully, Clay doesn’t take the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Stop trying to defend yourself. None of us blame you, Blondie. You were on base. You should have been protected. We won’t fail you again.” Sonny gives him facts, because he knows that if he tries to do anything else he’ll make it worse.

“Son?” Clay recalls a voice calling through the dark, through the black water he was floating in, a voice he’d recognised; “Did Blackburn find me? He- he had blood on his hands”

For a moment, Sonny curses Clay’s blessings as a sniper. He’d always been able to notice the little things, the things none of them would notice. “Yeah, he was checking that none of us were sleeping in the cages.”

Clay nods, and then his brows furrow. He breaks eye contact with Sonny and frowns in the genal direction of his feet. His face makes what Sonny calls his ‘Brainiac’ Face, and Sonny can only assume that he’s thinking about what happened with Blackburn, not rationalizing with himself that the beating was somehow his fault.

“Son, can I talk to him?” Sonny doesn’t want to think about whatever that conversation is going to be, so he nods and begins to gather his stuff. His cap is hanging precariously from one on the bed’s corners, his phone on the bedside table. He stands and ruffles Clay’s head, laughing despite the stink-eye he gets for it. Clay doesn’t mind it, and he has the feeling the next few weeks, if not months, are going to be filled with various forms of physical contact to reassure his teammates that he was still with them.

And now he’d asked Sonny to get Blackburn. God what do you even say to the guy who had found you beaten? ‘Hey Boss, I’m sure that what you saw was horrifying, but I’m alright now?’ God help him. Sonny hadn’t given him a weird look, so he’d probably been expecting Clay to ask at some point.

Clay’s train of thought is interrupted when a soft knock sounds on the door. There’s a second of pause before the door opens. Clay can’t think of a time when Blackburn’s looked worse. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a vaguely haunted look in his eyes. His eyes have a red tinge, and Clay can’t tell if that’s from sleep deprivation, or something else. His hands are rubbed red and raw, and Clay can tell that Blackburn had taken extra care to get every fleck of blood off his hands. He’s in a jacket that looks too big for him, and Clay suspects that Trent had a hand in that. Since the injured person – Clay – wasn’t someone he could immediately care for, Trent had gone for the next best thing, a shaken Blackburn. Under the jacket, he’s still in his fatigues, and by the time he’s finished the assessment of Blackburn’s top half, he’d moved close and sat down, hiding everything below his waist from Clay’s view.

Blackburn reaches out, putting a palm on Clay’s forearm, Clay’s hand mirrors it on Blackburn’s arm, and tension bleeds from Blackburn’s figure. His shoulders slump slightly, and he leans forward.

“How are you feeling?”

Clay considers lying, considers saying that he’s not in any pain, considers easing Blackburn’s mind. He decides against it. Blackburn had found him in a pool of blood, it’s the least he can do to tell him the truth. “My ribs hurt. But I’m, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you were there.”

Clay is the sometimes literally bleeding heart of Bravo, levelling out Sonny’s emotional constipation, and the admission is the balm of some of the burns on Eric’s soul. Eric leaned forwards, shuffling closer to the bed, trying to hide the blood on his knees. He hadn’t been home to change, a call to his wife at 8am had told her that he wasn’t going to be home for a while. She, like the amazing wife she was, had been understanding, and then grumbled at him to let her sleep. They’d both laughed and exchanged ‘I love you’s before his wife ended the call. Clay didn’t need the stress of knowing that Eric had knelt in his blood. Nobody needs that.

“Gave me quite a scare, gave all of us quite a scare.” Eric doesn’t tell him that he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his hands raw, that Jason had needed to strong-arm him into the waiting room, that Trent had given him one look and offered up his jacket, that he’d had his head in his hands until Sonny had come into the room and told him that Clay wanted to talk to him. Doesn’t tell him that he’d stood outside for nearly a minute before he’d knocked, that he’d needed to barrel in before he lost the nerve to speak to his operator. He usually prides himself on staying calm, on being collected, but Clay had been attacked in one of the few places on earth that he could honestly and without reservation call home. That scared Eric. If he couldn’t keep his operators safe on base, where would they be safe?

“Davis is talking to command about adding locks to the cage room doors, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” If she wasn’t already talking to command about it, she would be soon.

Clay nods. He shifts and grimaces in pain.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” It’s a safe question, one that doesn’t involve the emotions in the room.

Clay ignores the lifeline. “I’m alright as I am. Did you get the guys?”

Eric nods. Breaking the news to Bravo had been the highlight of his morning. “Command is letting DEVGRU work out how to punish them.”

Clay grins. “I bet Metal is having fun with that.”

It’s Eric’s turn to smile, and a soft chuckle makes its way out. “Davis is under strict orders to not accept a plan that involves murder. I’m sure Alpha’s disagreeing with that.”

Alpha was most likely to deploy with Bravo, and all were in line with their Master Chief’s ‘Bury-first-questions-second’ policy when it came to Clay. Eric had a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing to get Delta and Echo behind the plan, and that Charlie would only argue on principle.

Tier One was a brotherhood that didn’t take kindly to injury, as the world would learn.

Echo One – Zack Greer – a newly promoted Delta Two, wasn’t a very outgoing man. One and Twos were meant to both complement and contrast each other, a precarious balancing act honed over years of living out of each other’s pockets. TJ had needed a level head, so his Two was calm in the face of crisis.

Echo Two, on the other hand. A Floridian man, Elliot Howe, promoted from Charlie Three, who was under strict orders to never drink unsupervised with Sonny Quinn, lest they empty a bar and then burn said bar to the ground. He’d chaffed under Beau’s tight ship, so when the opportunity to move to form Echo had arisen, he was hard pushed to say no.

Together with Echo Three (Alpha Three), Echo Four (Delta Six) and two Green Team graduates as their Five and Six, they’d created a tight brotherhood.

Echo Five, Dan Wilder, a multilingual K9 handler, had initially been lost at DEVGRU, not quite fitting in. He’d reached out to the youngest operator – Bravo Six – in order to get some advice. What he didn’t know at the time is that their languages had overlap. Together with Clay and Ares – his K9 – he’d been able to find someone to practice with.

Echo had long since lost count of how many times Clay had come into their cage room, with a well-loved book, offering it to Dan with a brief explanation of how it would interest him. The book was never in English, and neither was the explanation. For all they knew, Clay could have spent the last few months giving Dan anything from Harry Potter to The Anarchist’s Cookbook (he’d actually only given Dan one of those, and Dan was under strict instructions not to tell them which, and Dan had been recommending others back).

Sonny, on the days when they were hanging out after work, sometimes tagged along to these exchanges. He’d joked about a book club, and Echo Two had picked up on the joke immediately, and since then the pair had resigned themselves to the nickname.

Between Clay’s frequent interactions with Dan and the fact that all of DEVGRU was deadly protective of Clay, it was no surprise that when Echo had heard the news, they hadn’t been happy. Command had fought a battle with Echo to keep them deployed, and Echo had nearly won. Dan had been on many rants, talking to empty space in Pashto – Four only caught a few words, and those were all along the lines of murder and death. Ares was giving out a low, constant growl. Both of the DEVGRU K9s were as protective as their owners, it seemed.

The door to their dorms slammed open and Zack marched in. Echo looks up in sync, and if it weren’t so serious, Zack would be amused by how much his men look like Meerkats. “Got word from Virginia.” This sets his men on edge, Howe half-steps forward, and his shoulders visibly tense up. “They found the green team rookies. We’ve been asked to approve the plan of their punishment before it gets sent to be approved by command.” Malicious smiles break out among the barracks.

They may be 7000 miles away, but they wouldn’t let anybody off the hook because of it.

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alwaysfeelingsaintlike · 3 years

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Depart&Return [G.W]

Description: George tells you that he’s leaving Hogwarts, but that doesn’t mean he won’t sneak back in to visit you.

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: slight sexual content

“No…no you can’t do this to me,” you said, holding back tears.

“Y/N, it’ll be okay. I promise. We’ll find a way to see each other.”

“I’m coming with you then.”

“I can’t let you do that. If you want to become a healer, you need to take your N.E.W.T’s.”

“I don’t care about that. I just want to be with you.”

“Y/N,” he pleaded, “you need to stay and finish school. I don’t want you regretting your decision to leave. I want you to be successful.”

“George, please don’t. I…I don’t think I can survive without you,” you were crying now. He had completely blindsided you.

“Come on now. You don’t need me,” he said. You shook your head as a tear fell down your cheek.

“It’ll only be a few months and then you’ll be done school and you can come be with me,” George said.

“A few months? I have over a year left.”

“It won’t be that bad. Maybe you can take your N.E.W.T.s a year early.”

“I don’t think that will be a possibility,” you responded.

“Talk to McGonagall about it. You’ll never know if you don’t ask. I’m sure she will do everything she can to help you out,” he said, gently rubbing away the tear on your cheek with his thumb.

You gave him a small nod and said, “Promise that you’ll write to me everyday?”

“Of course I’ll write to you darling. And I’ll use the floo network and we can meet up for butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks any time you like. Oh, that reminds me. I have something for you,” he paused and rifled through his pack until he pulled out what appeared to be a piece of parchment. It took you a moment to realize what it was.

You gasped, “No…the map?”

“I don’t really have too much use for it now. Besides if you’re going to sneak out and see me, you’ll need this,” he smiled. As much as you had been positively influencing George ever so slightly, he’d been wearing off on you too. In all honesty, you probably didn’t need the map to sneak out. You’d gotten really good at it. But you took it anyway. It could come in handy. You didn’t know if this small gesture changed your viewpoint, but you realized things would be okay now. This way you could focus on your studies so that you could get the job you’d always wanted. You admired Fred and George for leaving and starting their own business. You had no doubts about their success. They’d been doing this stuff for years.

“Darling, please don’t cry. I promise everything will be okay,” he said.

“I know, I know. I just can’t help but be upset.” He pulled you close to him and held you for a moment. It was hard not to cry. You tried to keep it to a minimum but it hurt thinking there was a chance you could lose him forever. What if he met someone else? Thinking about that only made things worse so you tried to erase the image from your head, which proved to be pretty difficult.

George ran his fingers through your hair and brushed his hands up and down your back, trying to calm you down.

“I love you Y/N.”

You looked up into his eyes and just smiled.

“What did you say?” you grinned.

A sly smile spread across his face, “I love you.”

You put your hand on his cheek and pulled his face down to yours. You kissed him so deeply and passionately that your knees went weak. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he put his hand around your waist. The next thing you knew, he leaned you back into a dip while you were still kissing. You smiled, breaking your kiss and his face hovered just above yours for a moment. “I love you too,” you smiled.

Here it was, the moment you’d been waiting for. The moment that determined if you’d wasted 6 years or if you’d be successful. Essentially, your fate was sealed in this little envelope. You couldn’t open it in the common room. You wanted this moment for yourself. You didn’t need others there to see your reaction. You scurried off to your room and began to feel nervous yet excited at the same time.

It had been a rough couple of months. After begging and pleading with Professor McGonagall she finally agreed to let you take your N.E.W.T.’s a year early. But she told you it would be very difficult since most students had the whole year to prepare and you only had a few months. You were fine with that though, whatever got you out of school earlier. You still weren’t even sure how you were still functioning as a human. You had buried yourself in schoolwork to distract from the pain of being away from George. But you always found time to answer his letters. You managed to spend a few weekends at Hogsmeade with Hermione, but most of the time it was so that you could sneak away and spend an hour or two with George. Without him, you didn’t feel like yourself. It was like a part of you was missing and you didn’t like that feeling.

You opened the door to your room and dropped all your things on the floor. You leaned against the shut door and opened the envelope. Before you unfolded the parchment, you mentally prepared for the potentially negative information that could be in the envelope, but you were too eager to wait any longer.

You skimmed through the standard paragraph at the top that was a necessity for almost all Hogwarts documents. In order to become a healer, it was necessary to receive at least exceeds expectations in the following categories: Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions.

ARITHMANCY: Outstanding – Septima Vector

CHARMS: Outstanding – Filius Flitwick

DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS: Exceeds Expectations – Delores Umbridge

HERBOLOGY: Outstanding – Pomona Sprout

POTIONS: Exceeds Expectations – Severus Snape

TRANSFIGURATION: Outstanding – Minerva McGonagall

“Merlin’s beard…I did it. I actually did it!” You excitedly whispered to yourself.

“Was there ever any doubt?” someone said. You looked up for the first time upon entering your room and noticed your favorite ginger sitting on your bed with a sly smile on his face. “Hey stranger,” he said.

“George!” You said before tackling him with a hug. “What are you doing here!?!” You asked after a few kisses.

“Well, I had to come and celebrate with you!”

“I’m so happy you’re here. This is seriously the best day ever.”

“And it’s about to get even better,” he commented.

“What?” you said perking up. You looked at him questioningly and he couldn’t fight back that adorable smile.

“I spoke to my Great Aunt Muriel…”

“Why? Isn’t she awful?”

“Let me finish.”

“Sorry…continue.”

“I spoke with her because she’s on the board at St. Mungo’s. I mentioned that you were hoping to get a position there and she read over your records. Your N.E.W.T. scores were on there, as well as your marks for school and it all looks pretty impressive. And she said she could get you an interview.”

“You did that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him tight. “Thank you so much, George. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I just want to make you happy,” he smiled at you.

“Being with you makes me happy.” You leaned in to kiss him again.

“What are the chances we’ll be alone in here for a little while?” he asked in between kisses.

“Well it’s risky. I don’t know when they’ll be back…” you sighed, disappointed.

George smiled, “I’ve got a better idea…”

He took your hand and pulled you off the bed with ease. You darted into the common room before you realized no one else could know George was there.

“Wait, George. We can’t let anyone see you here. I just…I don’t want anything bad to happen to you or the business or anything.”

He nodded, knowing you were right and you told him he needed to be sneakier once you left this safe haven.

You popped your head outside the portrait hole and scanned the hallway. Not a student or teacher in sight. George jumped out in front of you and took your hand. You still weren’t sure where you were going. After turning a corner, a door appeared in front of you. That’s when you understood where your destination was: the Room of Requirement.

Before he opened the door, he looked at you and said, “You’re sure you want to do this?” In response, you nodded excitedly and smiled at him.

He opened the door and the room was breathtaking. It was comparable to a suite at a five star hotel. There were pink rose petals scattered along the floor and floating candles all around the room. A huge king sized bed was featured in the center of the room and there were two cozy armchairs and a bar cart in the corner. The lighting was dim but it gave the room the proper mood for the occasion. The bathroom was lavish with a shower and a Jacuzzi tub. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Wish I could say I arranged all of this,” George said, “but the room has a mind of its own.”

“It’s perfect,” you smiled at him. He scooped you up and carried you over to the bed. You held his face in your hands and kissed him passionately. It was so hard being away from him. George was on your mind every minute of every day. But now he was here and for one night you had him all to yourself.

“You know, it’s funny because this isn’t how I pictured this moment. But it’s still perfect because I’m with you,” he whispered in your ear. He then moved his mouth onto your neck and began kissing your soft skin. He knew you loved being kissed on the neck and when he moved up to gently tug on your ear with his teeth, it drove you wild. You took his hand and guided him onto the bed, holding eye contact with him the entire time.

“I’m sorry I’m not wearing something sexier. Can’t say I was expecting this to happen.”

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, you know you are the most beautiful girl in the world to me. I don’t need you to dress in expensive lingerie just to impress me. You are sexy when you are the cute and humble human being that you are.” His statement made you swoon. You were even more certain this was the right decision to make. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he loved you.

“I love you Georgie,” You whispered to him before kissing him softly on the lips.

“I love you more than anything in the world,” he replied.

You were extremely nervous for your first time, but also excited. More than anything, you were just happy to spend some quality time with George. “Where should we start?” George whispered, “The bed, the chair, the shower, the Jacuzzi…?” You didn’t realize you had so many options. You figured it would be best to keep it simple to start. You could expand your horizons later in the evening.

“I’m happy here…for now,” you smiled at him. George was basically twitching in anticipation. You decided to tease him a little bit. You pulled away for a moment and took time to take off your riding boots and socks.

“It’s just a little toasty in here,” you smirked at him. He gave you a curious look. You slid off your leggings to reveal sky blue, lace boy shorts. George was clearly enjoying the view as he made himself more comfortable on the bed. You slowly pulled at the bottom of your sweater and shyly bit your lip. George didn’t say anything but the look in his eyes said it all. You swiftly pulled the sweater over your head and stood half naked in front of him. George took this moment to remove his shirt; you couldn’t tear your eyes from his torso. It was perfectly chiseled, but not too bulky. You climbed onto the bed and crawled on top of George. You kissed his chest and slowly worked your way up toward his neck. He put his hands around you and started gently rubbing your back. His sighs and moans only made you giggle. Soon he flipped you onto your back, moving on top of you. Your kissing became more intimate and more intense. George pinned your arms up above your head and you found yourself very turned on by his dominance over you. George eased up on his grip and freed your hands and you started unbuttoning his jeans. Seconds later he was wearing only his boxer briefs and you wrapped your hands around his neck. He started kissing your neck again and this time you were the one doing the moaning. You decided it was time to step things up; you pulled at the sheets and you both went under the covers where the festivities continued.

“Well that was fun,” you smiled at George. You were resting your head on his bare chest and he had his arm around you and was stroking your hair.

“Indeed it was. You still love me, right?” he asked.

You propped yourself up and looked at him. “Of course I still love you.”

“Okay good. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t using me for sex,” he joked. You smacked his chest and laughed with him.

“Can we just stay here forever?” you asked him.

“Well I mean we could…or we could go make good use of the Jacuzzi…”

You gave him a mischievous look, accompanied with a grin, before you kissed him on the cheek and slid out of bed. You sauntered over to the bathroom and started up the tub. You poked your head out of the doorway and looked at George. “You coming? Or am I using this myself?” After that it didn’t take long for George to hop out of bed and join you.

“George, did you know this was going to happen tonight?” you asked him. The two of you had finally retired to the bed and were cuddling, about to fall asleep.

“Of course I wanted it to happen, but I wasn’t planning on it happening. I didn’t know how you felt about it and I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Well you didn’t. I just wish we could spend every night together like this.”

“Who says we can’t?” he replied.

“What are you scheming…?”

“Scheming? I prefer the term planning.”

“Oh please, those words mean the same thing to you. But tell me what you’re thinking.”

“It’s simple, you move in with me.”

“Really? Is that an actual offer?”

“Of course it is. But, as you know, moving in with me entails moving in with Fred and his lady friend. I do hope you’ll say yes though, because I’m tired of being the third wheel.”

“I suppose I could relieve you of your third wheel responsibilities.”

“Oh is that all?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad seeing your smiling face everyday,” you teased further.

“So it’s settled then. I’ll start moving things around to give you space for your stuff. Which basically means I’ll be cleaning out my closet.”

“Oh come on, I don’t have that much stuff.”

“Yeah but you will because I plan on spoiling you and buying you everything your heart desires.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“You’ve always been lucky,” he stated.

“Do you ever just think about how we got here?”

“All the time. I think about how thankful I was that you helped me with that essay. And things just fell into place perfectly. You know, Fred always thought we’d end up together.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah, when we were younger he would always tease me about it. I never actually told him I liked you, but he just knew. And he knew how to press my buttons about it. Of course back then I just thought it was a lost cause and I didn’t have a chance in hell.”

“Did you ever think we’d be together?” you asked.

“I hoped we would. As I got older I started seeing us together more. But we also didn’t spend a lot of time together so it was still more of a fantasy.”

“When I was real little, like before Hogwarts, I always thought we were gonna get married. It wasn’t even because I had a crush on you either. Or maybe I did have a crush on you but I just didn’t know it. Regardless, I’m happy being with you. And no matter what happens between us, you’ll always be my first love.”

“You’ll be my first and last,” he responded. “I intend on being with you forever.”

You looked at him lovingly and kissed him softly on the lips. “I’d like that,” you responded. You cuddled up even closer to George, if that was possible, and you both started to doze off. His warm chest was under your head and his heartbeat slowly lulled you to sleep.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #fred weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x fem!reader #fred and george weasley #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins fanfic #george weasley one shot #hp fanfic

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waezi2 · 3 years

Text

Re-reading Yu-Gi-Oh (part 1)

So... I bitch a lot about Yu-Gi-Oh. When I don’t complain about it online and accuse it of scamming kid me, I ridicule the story and the many holes in the game rules.

But I actually used to love this manga with a burning passion. I bought it because I was fixated with the cards, but instead I got traumatized. In an awesome way.

So I decided to re-read the manga about the possibly best known TCG game in the world and see how it started, how it evolved, and if the story still holds up.

So, I’m reading chapter 1, and we have to talk about the art.

The art style at the beginning was chunky and sometimes downright awkward. But it was still very enjoyable. The characters were very expressive and the tone of the style could swing quickly from wacky and rubberhose like to eerie and brooding depending on the situation. It makes you forgive odd-looking legs and hands that becomes massive. It is clear that it is someone’s first project.

So, this is Yugi. Possibly the cutest and meekest punk kid who ever lived. Yugi is not an outdoor person, so he spends most of his recesses inside the classroom. He brings a ton of games to school, hoping that someone might wanna play with him, but all of his classmates prefer to go outside and do stuff like basketball. And being a short teenager who practically looks like a little boy means he is not a desirable team mate in any ball game.

This is totally just a theory, but I think Yugi’s signature punk hairstyle is his way of trying to look a bit more edgy to try do something about his cute appearance.

... Yeah, it’s not working. He still looks like a fricking Gummibear.

As Yugi is minding his own business, we meet two familiar faces.

... their names are actually Jounouchi and and Honda, but most people know them by their American names, so I will just refer to them as Joey and Tristan.

It’s so odd to see their old designs. Especially Joey since his hair is not as big and square like as it is today. And what the fuck is up with Tristan’s face?!

Anyways, while Yugi decides to play with the most valuable game in his collection, Joey and Tristan decides to mess with him. They make an interesting bully duo where Tristan is more loud and is clearly having more fun bothering Yugi who is too short to put up a fight while Joey seems more stoic and is almost annoyed by Yugi for being a pushover. He even tells Yugi to be a man about it and at least try and take the game back from him by force. So while Tristian just enjoys picking on Yugi for the heck of it, Joey seems to sincerely dislike Yugi.

Luckily, Yugi doesn’t have trouble with bullies as such since he is friends with Tea who is so tough that she actually intimidate Joey and Tristan with sheer attitude. That’s actually impressive.

... A shame she is most of the time just the damsel in distress.

Tea is the only person in class who hangs out with Yugi since they have been friends since kindergarten. And she doesn’t mind staying inside at all since a ton of the guys are jerks who only wanna play basketball with the girls since it gives them an opportunity to look up their skirts.

Yeah, there is a lot of that in this manga. Most of the males in this series are kinda horny. the humor often relies on it, which downright creepy at times.

Even Yugi finds basketball more appealing now that he knows about the skirt-looking.

Lewd panty-shot aside, I think it is a nice detail that Yugi is as pathetic as the rest of the dudes in school, he probably just doesn’t have the courage to try get a look. It makes him less of a pure hero.

Altight, let’s stop talking about Yugi being a closet creep:/

Yugi shows Tea what his greatest treasure is: A LITTERAL treasure.

Yep, this is the famous Millennium Puzzle, practically the mascot of the series. It’s an ancient puzzle found in an pyramid that Yugi got from his grandfather who runs a game store. The puzzle is extremely valuable, both because it is from ancient Egypt and it is made of gold.

... And Yugi brings it to school where Tristan and Joey pushes him around...

Yugi has been struggling with the puzzle for eight years despite being a game nerd. Even though it is a blow to his not that big ego, he keeps trying to solve it since the box says that if he will be granted a wish if he manage to solve the puzzle.

Meanwhile, Joey and Tristan makes the fatal mistake of talking about picking on Yugi while Ushio is close enough to hear it. He is the school’s hall monitor and rumor has it that he is downright psychotic and is feared by most of the students. Heck, some of the teachers are uncomfortable being near him.

And this guy has decided to become Yugi’s bodyguard, something poor Yugi doesn’t take serious when Ushio tells him that.

Joey and Tristan are unaware how screwed they are as they keep having their fun bothering Yugi without our hero knowing it. Joey managed to steal a piece from the puzzle box before Tea interrupted, and Joey decides to throw the piece in the school’s swimming pool so that the puzzle becomes worthless as it can no longer be solved. I gotta say, that is pretty twisted and surprisingly sneaky of a teen bully. It’s downright creepy.

Speaking of creepy...

This is Yugi’s grandfather Sugoroku. He runs the game shop that Yugi lives in and is a living encyclopedia when it comes to games of all sorts.

And he can’t just tell Tea that she has grown. He HAS to mention her breasts as well. Da fuck is up with all the sex talk and panty shots in this series?! Does Kazuki Takahashi(the author) have some sort of issues?!

Yugi’s grandfather notices that Yugi is STILL trying to solve the ancient puzzle and warns Yugi that the puzzle is supposedly cursed. That the archeologist and his team died mysteriously shortly after finding the puzzle and the last one to kick the bucket said something about a “shadow game” with his dying breath.

That however makes Yugi even more determent to solve the puzzle. If it really is magical then chances are that he will be granted a wish by completing the puzzle.

Personally, I would call the nearest museum and sell the dang thing before it could kill me with it’s insane cursed magic.

Speaking of insane, Yugi realizes that he should have taken Ushio serious when he said he would be his bodyguard.

Yep, the SOB has dragged Joey and Tristan behind the school building and kicked their asses through and through. Tristan is in so much pain that he is barely conscious and Joey is so pummeled that all he can do is watch as Yugi shows how surprisingly brave he is as he demands that Ushio leaves them alone, even refer to them as his friends and that they were just trying to make him a man.

Yeah, picking on someone because they are too timid and demanding that they fight you despite knowing that they hat violence is the right way to make someone a man. Hip hooray for toxic masculinity!

Yugi defending Joey and Tristan results in him getting a beating as well.

One of the interesting things about early Yu-Gi-Oh is the raw and ugly violence. We talking dirty violence where people get kneed in the chest and kicked while they lie down. Not just off-screen, we witness our heroes be pummeled, making the series a bit more gritty and frightening. And this series is not for those with a weak stomach.

Joey is stunned, partly because Yugi defends him, but way more of the short spiky-haired kid’s courage. But Yugi is anything but afraid. After all, he refused to fight Joey, but he still tried to get the puzzle back(not successfully, but he made an effort instead of just squirming).

After Ushio finished kicking poor Yugi’s ass, he tells him to bring him money as “payment” for his “bodyguard service.” And we talking 200000 yen, that’s a lot of dough.

Ushio even pulls a god damn knife(!), just to show how fucking crazy he is!

Yugi goes home to see if he has money enough to pay Ushio, but he only has 1656 yen. In frustration, Yugi decides to solve his unsolvable puzzle, just to think of something else than the brute with a knife who is waiting for him at school.

But what do you know? Yugi finally get the hang of it. He sees that some of the pieces just needs to be rotated differently and he finish it in a couple of minutes.

... Or he WOULD have. He finally sees that one of the pieces are missing, breaking his heart and making his awful day even worse.

But Grandpa has the last piece. He tells Yugi that one of his friends from school had found it and asked him to give it to Yugi. And that he was soaked despite it not raining.

As Yugi is happy about being able to finish the puzzle and returns to his room, his grandpa thinks about that the boy was Joey and that he asked him not to tell Yugi it was him that came with the puzzle piece. Joey also told him about Ushio blackmailing Yugi, so Grandpa secretly puts money in Yugi’s schoolbag so he won’t get in trouble.

And this is where it get’s freaky.

Yep, here it is. the iconic moment Yugi gets blessed by the puzzle so that he can turn into the split personality we refer to as Yami which is Japanese for “Dark”.

Yugi then calls Ushio and tells him to meet him outside school at midnight.

Ushio is surprised as he sees that Yugi is wearing some sort of costume and that he looks way more cocky than before.

Yugi tells Ushio that he has the money he demands, but he has twice the amount. Fricking 400000 yen!

But Yugi only “owes” 200000 to Ushio, so he suggest that they play about them in a dark and twisted game.

Yugi and Ushio take turns stabbing the stack of money placed on their hand. They have to stab hard enough to take more than one single bill. The winner is the guy with most yen bills.

As they play, Ushio seems to be winning... but when it is his turn, he can feel that his hand is way too eager to stab.

This is not just a weird-ass game. This is a “shadow game”, a game that shows your true nature. Ushio’s greed is now collected in his hand, and he so desperately want to win the game that he can’t control it. He realizes that if he stabs, he won’t be able to control his strength and he will penetrate his own hand. Ushio has to either A) give up and keep his hand or B) win the game with one hand less.

Ushio picks C.

Ushio tries to kill Yugi, but that was a mistake. The puzzle has made him super human and he leaps from the ground, evading the knife.

And cheating in a shadow game is a big no-go as the host of the game has authority to punish you.

Yami Yugi curses Ushio with “Illusion of Greed”, meaning he will be doomed to live in an imaginary world where he sees nothing but money everywhere.

Next morning, he is still outside the schoolyard like a drooling idiot who yells about all of his imaginary money.

Yugi has no memory of what happened but is glad he no longer has to be worried of Ushio who is a harmless nutcase. Not only that, he has finally finished his puzzle... and Joey offers him his friendship.

And that was the start of the horror manga turned card game commercial. It has a lot of charm, is very eerie and I think I prefer Yami Yugi’s first look that is more child like. making him look downright creepy.

This retrospective will continue ASAP.

Till then, I’m Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

#Yu-Gi-Oh #yugioh #yugi moto #joey wheeler #katsuya jonouchi #honda hitomi #anzu mazaki #tea gardner #tristan taylor #yami yugi #atem #manga

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keepthyfaithandthylight · 3 years

Text

Reincarnation au

It will be quite long, and this is only part one. For @fructidor hope you like it so far, if not that’s completely ok.

Monday, August 14th, 5:15 a.m. Would that cursed alarm clock just shut up already?

Slowly, Max rubbed the sleep from his bleary eyes and forced himself to his feet, immediately being met with the frigid floor. Why can’t we simply have carpet, it’s so much more warm to wake up to..

He fumbled around for a moment in search of his glasses, before blinking his eyes into focus once he had found them and put them on.

“Wonderful, now I won’t go out with my shirt on backwards.” He commented to himself, before rummaging through his closet.

“Max, hurry up! I don’t want to be late for my first day of school!” Shouted Augustin from down the hall.

“You say that each year, but within a week I’m dragging you out of bed by your ankles!” Retorted the elder, sliding the sweater over his head.

Ironically enough, once Max had finished getting ready, his brother was still standing in the bathroom in his pajamas, brushing his teeth.

“Really..” began the elder, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“What?” Asked Augustin with a mouthful of toothpaste, seeming offended.

“And here I thought you didn’t want to be late.” Max watched as his brother rolled his eyes before retreating to his room. Walking downstairs, his first instinct was to make a beeline for the coffee machine. He could tell already he was going to need the caffeine to get through the day. “Are you finally ready..?” He asked, upon hearing his brother descend the stairs.

“Whatever.” Came the response, the footsteps already walking to the door. Slowly, Max followed, standing to his feet while still holding his cup of coffee in one hand, keys in the other. Augustin had already marched himself out the door, and was waiting rather impatiently by the car, a look of annoyance across his face. Once he saw Max unlock the car, he practically threw the door open and fell in, ignoring as his brother sighed tiredly before he himself got in.

“Could you please try not to rip the car door off every morning..?” He asked quietly, before starting the car. “Why are you so mad, anyway?”

“Because every single year now you leave and I’m stuck at home with our sister.” Answered Augustin, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to look out the window. Max sighed once more, driving down the road.

“I’ll be back for the holidays. I always am, aren’t I?” He asked, only being answered by silence. Once they reached a red light, he took a sip of his coffee, trying to remove the exhaustion which weighed his very bones.

***

“I’ll see you in a few months, do try to stay out of trouble while I’m away!” Max called from the window, watching as his brother walked down the sidewalk. With one last heavy breath and swig of coffee, he prepared himself for his slightly longer drive ahead. Sometimes he wondered why he ever came home for the summer, but he would always have to remind himself that in most cases he was the glue holding their entire family together. Charlotte was working two, sometimes three jobs to support both herself and Augustin, who was trying to finish up school and getting into a bit of trouble. Max was in a bit of a similar situation, though he was simply trying to get his degree. This would be his last year before he finally graduated.

The sun rose in the sky as he drove along the highway, music playing softly in the background. Every once in a while he would take a sip of coffee to ward off the sleep which seemed to tug at him mercilessly. At long last, the campus came into view with its imposing architecture, it looked more like a cluster of medieval cathedrals than a college campus. He parked his car and watched as the students crowded in the school yard, signing up for clubs and some trying to figure out where they were even supposed to go. With one last swig of coffee, he got out and grabbed his things before making his way to his most familiar place. The dorms.

He had shared a dorm with his closest friend Camille since his first year there, they had known each other prior to going to college and Max had felt more comfortable sharing a room with someone he knew well. To his utmost dismay, however, Camille had switched schools over the summer. To be closer to his fiancé, he had said. Max understood, of course, but he was nervous now. Alone in a sea of other young adults, none of which he knew well, he was quite honestly terrified. He downed another swig of coffee before marching up the stairs, wandering down the hall before at last standing before his old familiar door.

Well, I do have to unpack. Again.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed the door open. Some of his more permanent decorations remained, such as pictures he had hung on the wall, and lamps, things of the likes, but Camille’s side was sterile and empty. Bland. Void of any character. With another, almost unneeded sigh, he walked over to his bed and slowly shrugged off his bags full of clothes, placing his laptop bag on his bed. He could not afford for his laptop to break again. Wiping his eyes, he stood in silence for a moment. He would miss the familiarity of his friend, after all they had bonded almost instantly upon first meeting, almost as if they had known each other long, long ago. He shrugged off the thought just as he had his bags, before leaning down and grabbing one of the aforementioned parcels and unpacking. Darting back and forth from bag to drawer, he eventually had his clothes set up for what would be the coming months until once more he returned home for a few weeks.

How lonely it felt in that small dorm room. How lonely indeed.

The silence seemed to eat away at him as he laid on his old bed, staring at the wall.

I will be alright, he and I will keep in touch. After all, it isn’t like he left for no reason at all-

Then, the door opened as someone else tumbled in, though he wasn’t sure if it was a mountain of bags suddenly animated or someone who just decided to pack way too much stuff.

“Um-“ Began Max, with hesitance and anxiety, and the other person looked up.

“And to think I thought that I was early..” they said to themselves, dragging the bags through the door.

“That’s um.. quite a bit of stuff you have there. Are you moving in or something?” Max joked, watching as one bag got stuck in the door, his new roommate tugging at it with what appeared to be a majority of his body weight.

“More or less- oof-“ Max raised an eyebrow as the bag finally broke free, sending its opponent stumbling back a few steps.

“You certainly travel light, don’t you.” He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. Hopefully this person had a sense of humor.

“Well, considering the fact that I have been living out of my car for the past few months, and obviously I can’t leave my stuff in my car..” they began, before dragging their bags over to what was now their side of the room.

“Living out of your car..?!” Max practically exclaimed, in surprise, eyes wide as he leaned forward.

“Yeah. Complicated situation, don’t want to talk about it.” Answered the other, and Max took a moment to observe them. They were quite tall, though everyone was tall compared to Max, who stood at approximately 5’3”, had long brown hair, and that was about all that Max could tell from what he had seen so far, aside from them fighting with their bags. He watched as they dumped their stuff onto what was now their bed, before taking what was his last swig of coffee. He frowned at the cup in his hand, before setting it aside on his table. “Do you happen to have any tape?” His new roommate suddenly asked, as they stretched a poster up on the wall.

“Oh- uh.. I think I do, give me one second..” Max replied, before sliding off of his bed and rummaging around in his desk, pulling out a roll of scotch tape. “I do, here.” He handed the plastic tape container to the other, who quickly took it.

“Thanks.”

Max wasn’t really sure he liked the tension that suddenly filled his dorm. It was not something he was accustomed to, at least when Camille had been there. He was brought from his thoughts once more as the sound of books falling on top of one another filled the air.

“That’s.. a lot of books-“ he commented, nervously.

“Well, like I said. I can’t keep my belongings in my car.” Responded the other, coldly. Max nodded hesitantly, before deciding in his mind to simply mind his own business and go back to staring at the wall, missing his former roommate. After what Max assumed had been an hour, the sound of bags being dumped finally stopped, and he noticed the bags had simply been pushed beneath the bed. One wasn’t even entirely empty. Max decided to try to clear the tension a little.

“I’m Maximilien, but most everyone calls me Max.” He began, cautiously, and for the first time the entire morning his roommate looked at him.

“Like Maximilien Robespierre?” They asked, and Max chuckled.

“I suppose you could put it that way.” He answered, slightly amused. He could not help but smile, he had never been compared to someone like that before.

“Cool, I’m Antoine.”

At least I have a name for him now?

“That’s.. actually a really neat name, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone named ‘Antoine’ before.” Max said, absentmindedly, staring at the ceiling.

“Yeah, at least I didn’t have to worry about sharing a name with anyone way back in elementary and middle school.” Replied the other with a shrug.

“I certainly dealt with plenty of that.” Max chuckled, lightly, with a nod. “So.. what are you majoring in?” He asked, sitting up attentively.

“Music, mostly.” Antoine replied with a shrug once more, staring at his hands. “Nothing really uncommon or interesting.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s at least some interesting classes?” Max insisted, earning yet another shrug.

“I suppose. Art history seems like it would be pretty interesting.” His face lit up as the other said that.

“Oh it is.” Max grinned, and Antoine raised an eyebrow at him in doubt.

“You seem.. overjoyed at the fact that that’s on my schedule-“ he commented, and Max chuckled once more, this time with more mischief.

“I am, it’s one of my favorite classes. When do you have it?” The latter asked with a warm smile, and Antoine looked up in thought.

“Um.. tomorrow at 8 am, I think?” He answered, looking over at Max.

“Ironically enough I have it at the same time.” Max smiled, and Antoine nodded slowly, his brown hair falling in front of his face for a moment.

“Well there’s one thing we have in common so far.” He replied, and Max could only smile wider. The more time went on, the air became more comfortable, much like it had with Camille. Some strange feeling of familiarity, Max couldn’t quite place what it was, but he was certainly not complaining, it had been a while since he had been able to sit in comfortable silence with another person, or have a warm conversation. It was something he missed, and he was glad to have it once more, even if only for a little while.

#we see my writing progressively get worse as this goes on #never in my life did I imagine I would be writing fanfic for lack of a better term on tumblr #at least it’s on theme (?)#frev #frev but make it a poorly written reincarnation au.

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

29 for indruck nsfw? i am already amused thinking about what sport either of them would play

Here you go!

29. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is

When you’re in an aggressive profession it’s best, in Duck’s experience, to be as calm and friendly as you can the rest of the time.

But this whole shit-show is testing his fucking limits.

It’s been two days since he found out his perfectly fine P.A was working for the Wallstreet Journal, hoping to learn that Duck was somehow using his T or his identity to gain an unfair edge in matched. Ned fired him on the spot, thank god, but it took less than twelve hours for the guy to publish some fabricated piece on his attitude and for Duck to remember why he needed an assistant in the first place. He’s gotten so used to having one that he keeps forgetting stuff or dropping the ball on appointments, and the last thing he needs right now is to look like some stupid hick.

When Ned texts him to let him know his new P.A is en route, Duck groans “thank fuck” loud enough to startle the cat from her tree.

He goes to the door when someone knocks, but doesn’t open it.

“Who is it?”

“Indrid Cold? I, ah, Mr. Chicane said this was Duck Newton’s address and I’m supposed to start as his assistant tomorrow.”

Duck opens the door, “Fuck tomorrow, you’re startin today. I gotta focus on strategy with Minerva the next two days if I don’t wanna show my ass Friday night and it’s real fuckin hard to do that with people callin me left and right.” He guides the startled young man inside, then stops to take a deep breath, “sorry, lemme try that again” he holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Indrid.”

“Likewise, Mr. Newton.”

“Duck is fine. It’s a nickname. You bring your stuff with you?”

“Yes, it’s all in my car.”

“Good. Here, lemme give you the, uh, the grand tour, so to speak, on the way to your part of the place.”

Indrid smiles and nods, hanging back slightly as Duck leads him through the house. They cover the living room, kitchen, Duck’s bedroom, then come what was once the garage door.

“This here’s the gym; you can’t find me in the rest of the house, I’m probably here.”

“Goodness” The other man’s eyes widen behind his red glasses, “that’s an impressive array. I mean, I know professional athletes need to train but I, ah, I assumed you did it on site with the rest of your team.”

“Team?” Duck closes the door, spots Indrid’s fingers diving into his pockets to hide their twitching.

“Yes.”

“Which team?”

“Your...sports team?”

“....you got no fuckin clue who I am, do you?”

“No.” Narrow shoulders sag in his sweater.

Duck chuckles, “Figures.”

The silver haired head snaps back up, “Mr. Chicane didn’t say it was a prerequisite for hiring me.”

“Guess he didn’t. And I guess it ain’t. Just hoped they’d hire someone who knew what the fuck he was gettin into.”

Indrid crosses his arms, “They gave me a very thorough job description. I assure you I can do every part of it. Laying out your pre-workout and scheduling appearances isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t matter if the dry cleaning I pick up is for a, a baseball after party or some sort of charity basketball fundraiser.” It dawns on the taller man that he’s just snapped at his boss. He contracts in on himself, staring down at his black converse.

Duck takes the chance for a more careful look; all of his clothes are second hand, chosen as if he’s cosplaying a jock who went into white collar work. There are piercing holes in his ears, flecks of silver polish on his nails. This job application was a hail mary and Ned Chicane went ahead and caught.

“No harm done, slim.” He rests a friendly hand on Indrid’s arm, “think it’s time I enlightened you.”

His office doesn’t get used much, so a sprinkling of dust greets them as he flips on the lights and reveals posters, magazine covers, and newspaper clips bearing Duck’s face. The gloves he used to win his first fight hang in a place of honor, right above the photo of him and the other fighters from Amnesty Boxing. It’s an older photo, taken the first time they sent a team out of state, sun-faded to the point the writing on it is disappearing. It makes him smile all the same.

“This does explain the set of instructions for helping you cut weight if needed.” Indrid takes in the posters, then turns his attention to the corner dedicated to Duck’s model ship collection. He cocks his head, says more to himself than Duck, “boxer. Interesting.”

“Were you just gonna bluff about knowin who I was until I said somethin?”

“That and look for clues in the rest of the house.”

He smiles, “Like a man with a plan b. C’mon, lemme show you your room.”

-----------------------------------------

Alright, so Indrid should have researched Duck Newton before turning up at his house so he didn’t come across as ignorant and unprepared. But he was busy running every Taskrabbit and UberEat he could get just to scrape up enough to keep his landlord off his back. Sue him for not wanting to sleep in his car again.

He never expected to get this job; live-in P.A who doesn’t have to pay for groceries (buy them, yes, since that’s one of his jobs) is not the kind of luck he’s familiar with. He keeps waiting for the catch, so nervous that when Duck pops in on him unpacking he assumes he’ll scold him for his wardrobe.

“I, should I buy some more professional clothes?”

Duck takes in the two duffle bags and backpack, “Up to you. I don’t mind you lookin like the little art punk you are, but a dress shirt or two might help if we gotta go somewhere real upscale. Don't worry about buyin it yourself; just use the same card we do for groceries.”

Indrid is still hung up on why the fact a man three inches shorter than him calling him “little” makes his chest burn. Luckily, the phone rings and distracts him. Then it rings again. And again. And again. All while the inbox doubles every time he looks at it.

This turns out to be the catch; the work is actually hard. Everyone and their uncle wants to interview Duck, get him to sponsor something, or proposition him. Four hours in, he’s overwhelmed, overstimulated, and ready to hide under the desk. His fidget necklace isn’t helping, so he pulls out his chewable one; it often helps him think in high pressure moments.

The phone rings again and he growls at it.

“You’re allowed to let things go to voicemail, y’know.”

He spins in his chair, black rubber moth still in his mouth. Duck leans in the doorway, tank top soaked in sweat and towel around his shoulders

“I, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to drop anything important.”

“Ned handles the fights and the money, and anyone I care about has my private number for emergencies.”

“Right. I knew that.” Indrid can’t have his boss thinking he’s a total space-case.

Duck smiles, “What I’m sayin is; ain’t the end of the world if you don’t get back to everyone right away. Besides, right now you need a lunch break, slim. Lemme go rinse off and I’ll join you.”

By the time Duck enters the kitchen in an old “NIN” shirt and jeans, Indrid has his protein bowl laid out for him and is finishing microwaving a hot pocket for himself. Before he can scurry away, Duck pats the seat beside him and Indrid sits down, preparin to politely listen to Duck talk about himself or his sport.

He talks for ten minutes about the trees he saw on his run that morning before asking Indrid what he did before coming to the house. Indrid explains about his art and his side hustles in tarot and palm reading, about the run of bad luck that saw him without roommates and lost him his steady gig at a coffee shop. Duck makes genuinely sympathetic noises, lets Indrid change the subject when the fact he was on the edge of disaster makes Indrid’s chest tighten. They’re still talking about music as Indrid returns to his desk and Duck goes to meet Minerva in the gym.

By the time Duck’s fight rolls around that weekend, Indrid is feeling much better. He has a system of sorting emails that works for him, some mothman stickers to help him organize the paper calendar on his desk, and more confidence in his ability to spot callers with ulterior motives. He’s shut down two separate ones looking to trap Duck into interviews where he’d be forced to defend his very identity. Duck overheard his responses to the second one and brought him back a fancy creme brulee latte from his breakfast as a thank you.

He doesn’t go to the fight; it’s a small one for charity and Duck has Ned to manage him, Minerva to train him, and Leo to coach him ringside. He doesn’t need his P.A. Instead, Indrid finishes up his correspondence for the day, makes sure Duck’s breakfast is all set in the fridge, and confirms the masseuse is coming in the morning.

Once in bed, Indrid gets sucked into the commission he’s doing and is lost to the world until a tired, satisfied face pokes through his door.

“Oh! Hello Duck. Did it go well? Do, ah, is there something you need from me?”

“Yep, I won like I thought I would. And nope; was just poppin in to say goodnight.”

No one’s said that to him in a long time. The bitterness of that realization is sweetened by Duck’s smile.

“Goodnight to you too, Duck.”

------------------------------------------

Minerva is sick, which wouldn’t be a problem except for one part of his workout. He could skip it, but he needs to keep everything sharp for when they go to L.A.

“‘Drid? You got a few minutes?”

His assistant appears in the doorway, black jeans and white “Cramps” tank-top fitting him in a way that makes Duck want to hold him face down on the floor and find out how to take his breath away.

“What do you need?”

Duck points to the heavy bag, “You up for bracin this while I hit it?”

“I...I am not as strong as Minerva.”

“You don’t gotta be; this is just to keep the damn thing from swinging while I’m doin this speed drill.”

“Alright.” Indrid takes off his glasses and sets them on the folding chair, joining Duck, “how do I hold it?”

Duck shows him, does a few test punches to make sure he won’t send the poor guy flying. The round clock dings green, and he’s off. The bag wobbles for the first few seconds, then Indrid seems to find his footing and holds it stable enough for the drill to work. When the round ends, Duck steps baack, “okay, you can let go until the next round.”

“Goodness.” Indrid stretches his hands, “I feel for your opponents. I’m jarred just from that.”

“You need to stop? I got two more rounds at least, but if it’s hurtin you I caan skip ‘em.”

Indrid shakes his head, smiling, “nono, I like helping you with this. It’s exhilarating.”

The bell dings.

“Glad to hear it. Now brace it again.”

By the end of round three, Indrid is panting loud enough for Duck to hear him over the fan. He looks up, glove still on the bag, and finds them face to face.

“Minerva said three to five rounds for this. You wanna keep goin?”

Indrid, breathless and grinning, nods, “Can’t have you slacking off, now can we?”

Duck wants to bite his lip, just to see what happens. Blames the thought on the adrenaline. Then discovers the exact same thought waiting for him when Indrid, cleaned and in his most respectable clothes, joins him in the car to go to an interview.

Ned gave the P.A a list of likely questions, so they practice those as they creep across the Bay Bridge. But Duck notices that on both the trip there and back, whenever there’s a lull in conversation Indrid is on his phone reading about boxing. Duck knows the other man fixates on topics that interest him; knowing one of Duck’s passions has earned that distinction makes him smile.

After that, he starts inviting Indrid to watch him train, or shares his thoughts about matches with him. That’s all it takes for Indrid to start drawing him into long, animated conversations about his sport. When Indrid asks why there’s such debate over the proper way to wrap hands and also how does Duck do his, Duck demonstrates.

“Here, ‘Drid, now you try it on me.”

The P.A moves the wraps slowly, deliberately, moving Duck’s hand like it’s a priceless treasure he’s readying for transport. Every time he bites his lip in concentration or brushes hair from his forehead, Duck has to remind himself to breathe.

“Done.” Indrid is still holding his left hand, “Did I do well?”

The boxer tests the wraps, wiggles his fingers and clenches his fists. Then he squeezes Indrid’s hand, “you did perfect, slim.”

Duck can wrap his hands in his sleep. But whenever he’s home, he finds Indrid and asks him to do the honors. Indrid does them every time. Perfectly.

---------------------------------------------

Indrid stands in the green room with Ned and a cluster of arena employees. The roaring crowd a few walls away echoes through the screen. He’s never seen Duck fight, but this event required all hands on deck to handle P.R, scheduling, and making sure Duck had what he needed to win.

Duck and his opponent enter the ring. Touch gloves.

Indrid’s pulse climbs.

Then the bell sounds and no useful noises come through the T.V. Just the announcers shouting and being drowned out by the crowd. Indrid gives up on parsing the cacophony, focus only on Duck. He’s seen him practice, but in a true match he’s a different beast. His opponent is faster, that much is clear, but Duck is patient, steady, blocks and weaves until he can land blows that make Indrid hurt just watching them.

Duck is magnificent like this. Indrid has to draw him like this, has to capture this and keep it forever, he has to, he has…

He has a hard-on in the middle of the green room.

He sticks it out long enough to see Duck win and then bolts to the bathroom so it can be taken care of by the time the boxer is done with the post-fight interviews.

They go out to celebrate, and Duck never nudges Indrid aside to let someone more important sit next to him. And as the drive to the hotel, he nods off with his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

It only gets worse after that.

Duck will coax him into joining him for a run with the promise of a fancy breakfast. On cheat days, Duck orders food to the house or takes Indrid out to lunch, and somehow the thing he wants when not focused on macros is always the thing Indrid mentioned he’d been craving. He invites Indrid on hikes with him, starts taking him to all his events even though he seldom needs help or herding at them (“yeah, but it’s nice to have someone to crack jokes with”). And on days when Indrid needs to be alone, or wants to see other friends, Duck simply smiles and closes the door.

The most dangerous days are the ones without anything on the schedule. Then it’s all too easy for Indrid to pretend that they’re something they’re not while he draws at the table across from where Duck is building his model ship. Too easy to imagine that the water-wise garden Duck tends is something he put into their house, not his house that Indrid happens to live in. Too easy to admit that Indrid wants to look after him for no payment except being looked after in return.

Duck reciprocating his feelings is within the realm of possibility. Indrid’s caught him staring when he walks in on the P.A doing yoga, and the casual touches long ago made the leap from accidental to deliberate. He also knows that Duck can’t fire him--only Ned can--and hopes that might lead to the boxer slinging him over his shoulder and tossing him on the bed one of these days.

There’s also the tabloid site circulating a photo of them with a caption claiming he’s Duck’s “boytoy” in spite of them only being two years apart. They’re not even sitting that close in the picture; Duck’s just smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world, that’s all.

Currently, he’s having an easier time keeping his feelings buried because--ever since they landed in Vegas-- Duck has been a dick the rest of the day. Well, as much as a dick as he can be; his offenses are mainly snapping at people and lacking his usual patience.

When he scolds Indrid over something silly in the hotel that night, Indrid turns and stares at him over his glasses.

“Duck, what’s wrong?”

“Wh-uh, fuck, nothing, why do you, uh, fuck, I’m fine.”

“You just snapped at me in a way that was completely uncalled for.” He crosses his arms, “is it the fight? I know it’s a big one but that’s no reason to be rude.”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I swear I won’t. Or, if I do, it will be after you leave.”

That gets a smile, “I’m uh, well, I’m what you’d call ‘horny as all fuckin get out.’”

Indrid’s immediate thoughts would solve the problem at hand while creating a new and far worse set, so he keeps them to himself and replies, “If need privacy, I can come back later and hold all your calls.”

“Nah.” Duck sits on the bed, “You’re not supposed to get off before a fight. Makes you too relaxed.”

“That strikes me as an old wives tale. Old boxers tale?”

“Either way, it’s one Minerva still believes. If I lose, she will ask about every possible cause, includin that one. Better if I just cat nap before I start all my pre-match stuff. Come get me in fort minutes?”

“Of course.” Indrid waves and closes the door before he offers to lay down in the hopes of Duck having a wet dream while holding him.

--------------------------------------------------------

Duck wins, though it’s a tough battle to get there. He fucking hates these Pay-Per-View fights, they try to make it sound like he’s got beef with the other guy. In reality, once he’s down from a knockout, Duck is the one who helps him to the other side of the ring.

There’s a flurry of press afterwards, of questions and congratulations while all he wants to do is shower. He gets clean, promises Ned they can all go out to celebrate later. As he and Indrid finally escape to his suite he’s forced to admit that--if the thoughts of hitting the “fire” button and fucking Indrid against the wall are any indication--his problem from earlier hasn’t gone away.

“Do you need me to see if I can get a masseuse up here? You look very stiff.”

“Just uh, just tense.” Why did he tell Indrid he liked those jeans on him? He’s worn them as often as he can since.

Indrid cocks an eyebrow, “Still pent up even though the fighting is done?”

“Yep.”

The P.A shakes his head, hiding a smirk, “Do you need me to find something for you to watch?”

“No.”

“I mean it, this place has all the good channels.” He’s so earnest, picking up the channel guide like it, rather than those fucking jeans and shirt with Duck’s name on it, has what Duck needs.

“No.” He growls.

Indrid sighs, sets the book back down, “This mood is annoying us both, so just tell me what kind of porn you want and I can go out and buy it.”

“Unless they got somethin called ‘boxer jackhammers skinny artist until he cries’ we’re gonna be shit out of luck!”

The P.A blinks, “Duck, this is Vegas, I can probably find that. Or look for it on your laptop…” he trails off when their eyes meet. Duck knows he must look like he’s ready to jump him. Indrid licks his lips, “Duck? What, ah, what exactly lead to this situation?”

“You really wanna know, slim?” Duck steps across the carpet, notices Indrid padding over the black and blue patterns to meet him.

“Yes.”

Duck removes Indrid’s glasses, “Had a dream about you while I was on the plane. Woke up havin just finished fuckin you open. First thing I thought was “no big deal, ‘Drid’s right here. We can do the real thing once we get to the hotel.’ Then I fuckin remembered that we couldn’t, and I know for damn sure that if I jerk off I won’t feel satisfied because you’re be over there” he jabs his thumb at the door connecting their rooms, “so close and completely outta my reach.”

“So keep me right here instead.” Indrid purrs, fingers tentatively finding Duck’s hips. The light contact splinters his self-control and he practically tackles Indrid onto the bed, kissing him as the taller man moans and paws at his clothes.

The kiss takes the heat off enough to clear the steam fogging up his head and sits up, “This really okay?”

“I would have said if it wasn’t now for goodness sake please get back down here.” Indrid yanks him forward by the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. He’s humming and sighing every time Duck touches him, rolling his hips to display a quickly forming hard-on.

“Aw, sugar, you gettin excited just from kissin’?” Duck grinds down just to see him gasp.

“Y-yes. I, Duck, I’ve wanted this for months.”

The implication of those words slam his desire into overdrive, “You sneaky little thing, that why you kept runnin around in tight clothes?”

“Most of my clothes h-hang off me.” Indrid holds tight to Duck’s thighs as the boxer strips his shirt off, “but yes I, I did start wearing what you liked more often.”

“Ain’t that thoughtful. And what were you hoping would happen, slim?” Duck yanks his sweats off and kicks them to the floor.

“This.” Indrid’s eyes keep slipping down to stare at Duck’s dick.

The boxer strokes himself lazily, “like what you see?”

“So much.”

“Then how about a closer look, sugar?” He crawls up Indrid’s body to straddle his face. It looks even better than normal framed by his thighs.

“Do I get to touch too?”

Duck guides his hands onto his ass, “As much as you want. You gonna be sweet and let me fuck your face, or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open?”

Indrid opens his mouth instantly, a whimper creeping out of it as Duck strokes his hair. The sound morphs into a louder, but muffled, moan when Duck sinks down. He teases his dick against Indrid’s lips, drags slick across his chin, feels his jaw tremble with wanting to close. Duck shifts so his dick touches Indrid’s tongue, “get to it. Oh fuck” he braces a hand on the wall, “heh, didn’t know Ned screened for cocksuckin skills.”

Indrid shakes his head, brown eyes wide as Duck roughly rides his face.

“No? He didn’t make you demonstrate on some of the other fighters? Didn’t make sure you could make a whole gym cum to prove your mouth was good enough for me?”

“‘O” Indrid shakes his head again, silver strands sticking to the pillow as he kneads Duck’s ass in a way that makes him groan.

“Too bad for them. Because now they ain’t ever gonna get a chance.”

A whimper and write of the torso; Duck glances over his shoulder to watch Indrid buck his hips in the air, pre-cum clear on his crotch. His feet, still in their shoes, point and flex as he moans around Duck’s dick.

“You like that, don’t you sugar?” He threads both hands into Indrid’s hair, pinning his head down or pulling it closer as it suits him, all the while gently rubbing his scalp “like knowin’ that you’re doin well.”

A harder suck in reply.

“Then be a good little cocksucker and make me cum.” He holds his head down and let’s loose, grinding and grunting in pursuit of the heat that starts at Indrid’s tongue and is steadily curling up into Duck’s belly. The other man holds him tight, moaning and licknig and sucking until Duck cums on his mouth, the lasts bursts of it happening against a slackening jaw.

As soon as his legs cooperate, he climbs off and guides Indrid to sit up in his arms. His attempt to check on the other man is interrupted by a frantic kiss.

“I was gonna ask if you wanna keep goin’, but I think I got my answer.”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean please don’t stop yet. Please I, we can do whatever you like, we can do just this, you can drag me out on the balcony and fuck me in full view of the city-”

“Easy, slim, easy.” Duck cups his cheek, “let’s start with somethin simple. Get naked and get comfy on your back for me. I gotta go grab somethin from down the hall.”

His memory turns out to be spot on; the vending machine on this floor has toiletries, including condoms and a travel bottle of lube. He buys ten of one and three of the other, drops them in the pockets of his robe and hurries back to Indrid. Sprawled on the bed, he looks painfully vulnerable, like someone who got used to life kicking him and telling him to stay down.

It’ll be different when they’re together, Duck can promise that much.

“Seem to recall you wanting me to keep you here.” He grabs a handwrap, holds it where Indrid can see, “how do you feel about me usin this?”

“Extremely good. Oh, oh hello.” He laughs when Duck rolls down beside him to pepper his face with kisses. The process of trapping his hands to the headboard is prolonged thanks to their mutual need to keep kissing every five seconds.

“Now” Duck kisses his shoulder, “I didn’t bring any toys to fuck you with, so it’s just gonna be my hand.”

“You say that as if it’s a disappointment to me and not incredibly sexy.”

“Some folks don’t think you’re fuckin ‘em unless you use somethin dick-shaped.” Duck shrugs with a flicker of sadness from the last time he had that conversation.

“Tell me who insulted your body or your skills in bed and I shall stand outside their window with a megaphone informing them of how terrible their manners are and how they missed out on the finest man in the world.”

“That’d be funny” Duck leisurely kisses his belly and hips before sitting up, “but you’d have to get outta bed.”

“True. Ah well, a sternly worded email will have do OOOh, oohhhyes.” He wiggles his hips as Duck presses in the first finger, relaxing under his touch.

“Get the feelin you’ve done this before”

“Yes.” Indrid’s chest is flushed and Duck reaches up his free hand to play with his nipples.

“What’s the most you’ve taken?”

“Th-three, I believe. I, ah, I’m usually facing away so I sometimes lose track.”

“You're takin four tonight. Can’t believe anyone would wanna miss out on how you look when you’re getting fucked.” He teases the second finger to prove his point and Indrid’s mouth curves with bliss.

“My ass is many people’s type; my face not so much.”

“Fuck that.” Duck pushes the second finger in. Indrid arches, then sighs as Duck keeps working him open.

“I find it difficult to care what they thought right now. I, ahhhn, it’s much more fun to think about you.”

“About me…?”

“About right you’re doing right now and, AH, what we can do next. I do so want to sit in your lap in the hot tub back home.”

“Can manage that. What else?”

“I’d very much l-like to fuck you, however you’ll let me and, and I want us to do it right after you train some day, you look so good like thatAHgod.” The third finger is in and Indrid is now steadily pushing down on them, “and one of the times you get me to run with you I expect a blow job in reward oh, ohfuck” his eyes are wild and eager, “please do the last one, I’m ready, I want it so badly, please.”

Duck begins teasing the fourth finger, “Think all those wants of yours sound real good. You wanna know mine?”

“Absolutely. AHaahnnnahgod” The wrap tightens as Indrid clings to it, trying to stabilize himself as Duck fucks his hand into him hard.

“Soon as we get home, I’m gettin the strap-on and fuckin you for a solid hour at least. Gonna leave you so fuckin raw and relaxed you won’t wanna do anything but lay there, and you’ll goddamn get to because you’re mine and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Duck” it’s a happy sob, Indrid’s cock bobbing in the air.

“Gonna take a trip somewhere private, just the two of us, and you’re gonna spend the whole fuckin time tied up, to the bed, a chair, whatever the fuck else I feel like so I can ride your dick whenever I want.”

“Yes.” Indrid is barely getting out words between his cries.

“And the next time you have the fuckin nerve to wear tight jeans the day I gotta fight, I’m gonna shove a vibration plug up that cute little ass and lock your cock in a cage so we can both be horny without bein able to get off.”

“Duck please, I’m close, please touch-”

He wraps his fingers around Indrid’s dick and works him over hard and fast, “Soon as I’m done with that fight, you’re gonna blow me in the locker room so I can focus on nailin your ass into next week when we get--ohfuck!” Cum hits his chin as Indrid gasps and squeaks, scratching at the wraps and the headboard.

If Duck ever loses his memory, he hopes this is the last moment to go; Indrid Cold, happy, safe, and satisfied while he moans Duck’s name.

Indrid is boneless as Duck undoes the bonds, though he rallies enough to pull the boxer into a hug so he can cuddle him like a teddy bear. He kisses his throat, feels his pulse even out beneath his lips.

“Duck? Does, ah, does this mean what I think it does?”

The phone rings right as he’s about to answer. It’s probably Ned, so he holds up a finger and grabs the receiver.

“Go for Duck. Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine” he nods as Ned explains the plan for their exclusive, late night dinner, “yeah, tell ‘em five; you, Minerva, Leo, me and” he winks at a beaming Indrid, “my boyfriend.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #trans duck newton #reader request #meet ugly #boxer au

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ladylynse · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6 [FFN | AO3] of Forewarning

All Dipper knew was that there was something buried in some special thermos behind the shack; all Danny knew was that he had no idea how he'd gotten here.

Based off this artwork by @hashtag-art. Happy birthday, @bibliophilea!

(beginning | previous)

-|-

Once safely back at the Mystery Shack, Wendy turned off the golf cart and grabbed her supplies from the rack in the back. It had been a bumpy ride, but she’d only needed to sacrifice one bag of marshmallows to the forest. That wasn’t bad, considering how many creatures she was fairly sure lived there.

And, fine, maybe it made her a little paranoid to think that some of the bumps she’d hit had been deliberate, a growth of tree roots just so or deep holes suspiciously covered with leaf litter, but it wasn’t like she voiced her thoughts to anyone else.

Besides, whatever lived in the forest seemed happy with the occasional sacrifice of candy. At the very least, she’d never been stopped by something yet, and she took a lot of shortcuts through here by herself. That wasn’t exactly recommended, even for those who knew the territory well. When her family went out for apocalypse training, they were supposed to pair off. They didn’t always, but they did more often than not.

It’s easier to survive if there’s someone you trust around to watch your back, but you have to know how to fight if there isn’t.

Whatever had stopped by the Mystery Shack wasn’t bringing the apocalypse with it—she was pretty sure about that—but she didn’t want this to turn into that. Taking the twins to see the haunted grocery store? Sure. She still hadn’t been sure they’d actually see ghosts despite the stories—no one had been until it had happened—but that was different. That was contained. That was very much not in the Mystery Shack. Where the kids slept. With only the oblivious skeptic Stan around to fight the things that went bump in the night.

Now, if those things were corporeal, she wouldn’t be concerned. The man knew how to punch, and he’d punch before asking questions. But whatever had turned up this time clearly had the option to not be corporeal. Like a ghost.

She remembered the footprints appearing in the scattered baking soda a split second before the boy who’d visited earlier appeared. The same boy who had flashed a careless grin and flipped through postcards and keychains and magnets in the gift shop before taking a tour with Mabel.

Whatever he was, he wasn’t a ghost, but he was entirely too much like a ghost for comfort.

There was no sign of Stan yet—not a surprise; she hadn’t heard his car—but chances were good he wasn’t far behind her.

She saw Soos walking in from the lane and raised her hand in a wave. He spotted her and held a finger to his lips before pointing, and something cold and heavy settled in her gut as she spotted three figures by the woodshed: Mabel, Dipper, and the not-a-ghost boy who’d called himself Danny.

She cursed under her breath as she hurried to meet Soos. “That’s him,” she hissed. “We need to get him away from the twins.”

“Did you find anything in town that we can use?”

“I bought a couple more boxes of salt.” Silver was expensive—too expensive for her, anyway—and she wasn’t exactly guaranteed to find holy water even if she tried breaking into a church, mostly because she didn’t know where she’d look for it. She could’ve bought a cast iron frying pan, but she might as well grab one from the kitchen. The ideas of what they might be able to do had quickly fallen apart when she’d realized what was actually feasible. “It’s better than nothing.”

“What about garlic?”

“For a ghost?”

“You said he wasn’t a ghost.”

“Close enough to a ghost. And, anyway, there should be some in the kitchen. We can always chop up a couple of cloves and see if it does anything.” If it didn’t, and they didn’t waste it, they could always throw it into hamburger meat or make garlic bread. “How long has he been here? The kid?”

“Just a couple of minutes,” Soos allowed, “but this isn’t the first time the kids have met him.”

Wendy closed her eyes. “I know, I just…. I’d hoped they wouldn’t realize he wasn’t normal.” More to the point, she’d hoped that he wouldn’t come back. What the hell did he want, anyway? Sure, he’d said something about fixing whatever was wrong, but their ideas about what needed fixing weren’t likely the same.

“They might not. He was pretending to be normal when he talked to me.”

“He talked to you?”

“Just to ask after Dipper and Mabel.”

Wendy frowned. Soos didn’t sound too optimistic that Mabel and Dipper wouldn’t realize there was something weird about the kid, and frankly, she thought he was right. Mabel might be more forgiving, but Dipper…. “We’ll play it cool. Keep doing whatever you were doing. Try to keep an eye on them without being too obvious about it. I’ll prepare the fire pit.”

“The wood, campfire forks, hot dogs, marshmallows—?”

His gaze had wandered pointedly down to the box of salt pressing against the white plastic bag she carried, its blue label clearly visible. “Yeah. I won’t ring it thickly enough that it’s noticeable, especially since it’ll have to be in the gravel where nothing’s growing anyway, but if he’s going to pretend to be normal, then we’ll see how long he can keep that up.”

“And if he’s not affected by the salt?”

“We cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“And if we’re wrong and he is normal after all?”

Wendy snorted. “If he’s normal, he’s only normal for here.” She saw Soos shift uncomfortably and added, “If Stan comes back before I’m finished, give him the pitch about taking measures to ghost-proof the Mystery Shack and advertising doing that because it’s haunted. He’ll know how to get more of what we need, even if he doesn’t think it’ll do anything.”

“What if he’s not bad? The kid, I mean. Not everything is bad. Not everyone is bad.”

The kid had claimed he wasn’t a threat. He’d said he was stuck, that he just wanted to go home, that he had to fix something, not break it. What if it hadn’t been a lie? She didn’t see how his sneaking around could mean his intentions were honourable, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t missing something.

On the other hand, if he were simply determined to show a friendly face to the twins to get them to lower their guard, only to strike once he’d fooled them—

Wendy wasn’t sure if she wanted to take that risk. Having a healthy amount of suspicion now and apologizing later sounded much better to her than being overly trusting and being burned—especially if she wouldn’t be the only one caught in that fire. She and Soos had lived their entire lives here. Mabel and Dipper had not. They might not yet appreciate the degree to which not everything was as it appeared.

“You don’t need to be ready to attack,” Wendy finally said. “You just need to be ready to defend.” Soos nodded, maybe thinking her words were for both of them, but they weren’t. She had no intentions of simply being ready to defend. She wasn’t about to attack unprovoked, but if this kid did anything that set off alarm bells for her, she’d act on her gut. She trusted her gut more than her head. It was reliable in these sorts of situations.

The trouble was, her gut should have made a call on this already. Instead, she was still conflicted, and more time to mull it over on her trip into town hadn’t helped. Part of her still wanted to take the kid’s words at face value, but the little she’d seen of what he could do backed up the part of her that insisted he was far too dangerous to blindly trust. Soos wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but there was so much that could seem innocuous at first….

The knowledge that Soos was right and they had no idea if salt would actually help defend them didn’t make this any easier—especially when Danny was clearly interested in Mabel and Dipper. Soos had mentioned Dipper having a book, and she remembered seeing glimpses of it before. If that’s what the kid was interested in, how was she supposed to help Dipper and Mabel protect it while still protecting them?

Salt first. Purifying fire and questions later, if the kid decided to stick around for it. As long as he wasn’t hurting her friends, she was willing to give him a shovel and see how deep he dug.

XXXXXXX

Danny didn’t see the journal around, but Dipper apparently didn’t need it to draw his magic circle thing in the dirt. To be fair, Danny didn’t know if it was the same one as before, but he also didn’t want to find out. Which meant taking the initiative and trying to explain before they decided to pull more magic stuff on him.

“Please don’t do whatever you’re planning on doing,” he said, keeping his voice low in the hope that the guy he’d been talking to earlier wouldn’t hear it. “I just want to talk, I swear.”

“Are you ready to explain now?”

That was Dipper, with a bite in his voice that reminded Danny a bit of Valerie. Dipper might not sound even half as malicious as Valerie could when she was spitting curses at Phantom, but he was appropriately wary. “Yeah. But you have to promise you won’t try any magic stuff.”

“No. You’re not defenseless, and I’m not swearing away my ability to protect anyone.”

Oh. Right. He might think that particular promise carried more weight than a regular promise. He seemed to think giving his word would make it impossible to break. Danny didn’t know of any ghosts with that power, and frankly he didn’t want to meet one who had it. “You don’t have to. I just…. I promise I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else. I only want to talk. And not, y’know, risk being exorcised if you don’t believe me.”

Mabel looked from Danny to her brother and raised an eyebrow. He scowled at her but said, “Fine. If you don’t do anything except tell us the truth right now, I won’t try to exorcise you.”

Not ideal, but it wasn’t like Danny was planning on lying through his teeth to them, anyway—or that he couldn’t still attempt a lie if he felt he needed to. He had a feeling it wouldn’t work, though. He hadn’t had a whole lot of luck earlier. Maybe seeing through that thing was a kind of survival instinct around here, just like Secret Lab Guy had said.

Come to that, though— How had he had an entire conversation with someone, spilled half his life story to that someone, and not actually gotten their name?

Whatever. He’d ask later if he didn’t figure it out before then. It just proved the point, though. These people were good. Sharper than he was used to, unless almost everyone in Amity Park had already figured out his secret and was just being nice and waiting for him to make some kind of grand announcement.

Yeah, right. If Amity Park’s continued obliviousness wasn’t natural, then Vlad had done something. Not something Danny would thank him for, exactly, but something he wouldn’t fault him for, either.

“Thanks. Can I sit?” There weren’t chairs. There weren’t even logs. Dipper would be able to tell that he was staring at the circle drawn in the dirt, though, and know the question for what it was.

Mabel reached out one foot and drew a line through it with the toe of her shoe. “Yup!” she said, dropping down in place. “Pull up some grass.”

Dipper glared at her as Danny sat down on a patch that was more gravel than grass, but the other boy didn’t say anything; he just settled down and looked like he’d be ready to grab the axe beside him at a moment’s notice. Danny didn’t really want to find out if he knew how to use it. Then again, going by the assorted sizes of split logs nearby, he wasn’t overly skilled; even if it wasn’t a normal axe that Danny could avoid with intangibility, there was a good chance that Dipper was clumsy enough with it that he’d be easy enough to avoid.

“I’m sorry about not being entirely straight with you earlier when I said I would be.” Danny didn’t know where to begin, but an apology seemed smart when he still wanted their help.

“Which time, Phantom?”

Well, at least there wasn’t any lingering doubt. Danny sucked in a breath and let it out slowly to give himself a bit of time to think. Mabel looked ready to listen, but Dipper…. He still wasn’t sure about Dipper. “This isn’t exactly something I tend to tell strangers,” Danny said slowly, “but you’re right. I’m Phantom. I’m the one you let out of the thermos.”

Dipper was still practicing his glare, but Mabel asked, “So what are you? You’re not a ghost. We’ve seen ghosts.”

“I’m still a ghost,” Danny said, since as far as he knew, that was true. “Just…part ghost. Part human.” He rubbed the back of his neck and offered them a smile. “Remember when I joked about being the poster boy for interdimensional safety?”

“You expect us to believe you were in some sort of accident,” Dipper said flatly.

They didn’t need to know all the details, but— “Yeah. Lab accident. It didn’t kill me, or at least I don’t think it did, but I did get ghost powers, so that’s cool. Not something I’d recommend to anyone, but cool.”

Okay, Dipper definitely didn’t believe that, but Mabel nodded as if Danny had said something normal and not what probably sounded insane. “Why were you in the thermos?”

“Clockwork, I think. He’s the one who gave me the message to warn you in the first place, remember? Also the one who likes to pretend he doesn’t interfere but interferes like this. I thought it was Vlad, until I…until I realized how long it had been. And, no, before you ask, I don’t know who wrote that journal. I wasn’t lying about that. The only important bit I lied about was ‘Danny Fenton’ being a friend.”

“Why fess up now?” Dipper’s question was a challenge, sure, but Danny could hear the genuine curiosity behind it. Chance were, he wasn’t a great liar, either.

“Because I might need your help to get home. Especially if that help involves you trusting me enough to let me help you and you not trying to kill me first.”

“What were you looking for earlier?” Danny blinked, trying to figure out what that meant, and Dipper must have read that confusion on his face because he elaborated, “Mabel heard you. We know you were back before you showed yourself now.”

Right. She had been in the gift shop area, hadn’t she? “I was trying to find some clue about what else I’m supposed to do here.”

“And?”

That meant did you find it? Danny might’ve promised them the truth, but he’d also promised the other guy that he wouldn’t blow that secret, either. More or less. Hopefully that wasn’t what he was supposed to do here? “There’s something weird about this place,” he said instead. “It’s got this…feeling. I don’t know how to describe it.” It was something unnerving, like the feeling the Fright Knight could give you, but with more…. More I’m-watching-you vibes. Vlad times a hundred. If he didn’t need to stick around to get home, he’d be gone by now. Whatever Clockwork was trying to warn these guys away from, it felt like a danger on par with Pariah Dark.

Not that he’d be able to explain that to them.

Mabel reached over to poke Dipper in the arm. “Show him the journal.”

That would make things a lot easier for him. “I could tell you what it has wrong about ghosts. Or at least about me,” he offered. He wanted to do that regardless, but if he could give them more reason to show him, well….

“It seems to be right about you,” Dipper said, “unless you want to pretend that you’ve never been affected by anything we’ve done.”

Danny blew out a breath. “Look. Being part ghost doesn’t mean I’m exempt from everything that works on ghosts. It also means that I need to be careful around hunters, including you guys. But I’m not here to fight you or steal something or whatever your book says about me. I’m the good guy, I swear.”

“The good guy. Who needs his own little dedicated section in the journal.”

“Dedicated section?” That sounded worrisome. How much info did these guys have on him? Some of it had to be accurate, but if it was just full of things he’d done as a ghost with no context, like the stealing—

“More like a paragraph,” Mabel interrupted, “and it’s not even in the same language as the rest of it.”

Wait.

“Not the same language? What language is it?”

“See for yourself,” Mabel said. She elbowed Dipper when he didn’t immediately produce the journal and offer it up and then hissed a few things in his ear for good measure, which finally seemed to convince him. He pulled the journal out from beneath the vest he’d been wearing earlier, flipped through to the right page, and turned it around to show Danny.

Danny leaned closer, but he didn’t recognize the language, either. If it was something ghosts spoke, he’d never seen it written down, but aside from Wulf, most of the ghosts he’d met spoke English. He didn’t know how many other languages they spoke, though. He’d never asked. If this was some common language he had yet to learn….

“It might be the way it’s coded,” Dipper admitted, “instead of actually being in a different language. Some passages in the journal are coded, but they’re all the same code, except for this. I haven’t had any luck cracking it.”

Danny frowned, reading the page over before Dipper could take it away. He couldn’t see anything about a thermos or anything else that would have led them to him in the first place, but there was a bit of gibberish above that section written in green ink that might be the first code—

Wait. Green ink? Everything else in here was black or blue or some kind of brown that Danny really hoped wasn’t blood. “What else is written in this colour?” he asked, pointing to the passage.

“That’s it.”

“In the entire book?” That didn’t make sense. “But…why?”

“When I find the author of the journals,” Dipper said bluntly, “that won’t be one of the first questions I ask.”

“It won’t even be one of the first hundred,” Mabel added. “Dipper’s never understood the importance of colour.”

To be fair, it wasn’t typically high on Danny’s list of priorities, either, but this colour thing was definitely strange. How many other weird things were in that book if this didn’t make the list?

“Does it mean something to you?” Mabel asked.

Danny hesitated. The fact that it happened to be the same colour as his eyes—or his ectoplasm—in ghost mode could be a coincidence, but things tended to be a lot less coincidental when Clockwork was involved. Danny wasn’t really ready to bet that whoever had written this journal had simply run out of every other colour of pen that day. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but only in that it might point toward me.” Or another ghost like him. Hopefully not Danielle.

“So do you know who wrote it?” she prompted.

He shook his head. “I don’t know the handwriting. That’s not saying much, though. There are a lot of people—and ghosts—I know whose handwriting I’d never recognize.” He wasn’t even sure he’d recognize the Ghost Writer’s handwriting. “What does the other part say about me?”

“That something was stuck in a thermos behind the shack,” Mabel answered immediately, ignoring her brother’s glare. “Which it was.”

“It’s a Fenton Thermos, something specifically designed to contain ghosts. My parents build them.” If he wasn’t trying to keep his secret anymore, there was no harm in admitting that. “They’re paranormal scientists and inventors.”

“Like the author of the journal is,” Mabel said, shooting Dipper a pointed look. “That must be why the bit about the thermos is in there.”

“Not— I mean, I’m not thirty years old. Seriously. Do I look that old to you? I just turned fifteen last week.” Well. Last week for him. Not for whenever this was, five years in his future. “Me being in the thermos is Clockwork’s fault.” Probably. Except Clockwork wouldn’t have needed to catch him in a thermos to force him back here; he could’ve simply asked and called in a favour if Danny had complained, which he would’ve. More likely, Clockwork had merely taken advantage of someone else capturing him in a thermos, and that list of possibilities was long—and included more than one ally, even when the capturing was intentional.

“I don’t know all the details, okay? I just…. I haven’t met a ghost besides Clockwork that messes with time.” His evil future self didn’t count, not when Clockwork’s power had still been the vehicle for everything he’d done.

…Danny really hoped this had nothing to do with him. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t appreciate the thermos parallels.

Of course, now that he thought about it, the fact that he’d been stuck in a thermos had to be deliberate. Sure, it was a way to skirt the notice of the Observants, but Clockwork had messed with the timeline before without doing anything sneaky like that. If the thermos was important…. Coupled with the fact that there was a portal being built beneath a place called the Mystery Shack….

“That’s why I’m here.”

“You care to share with the class?” Dipper asked.

“The thermos, the portal—”

“What portal?”

Oops. “The, y’know, whatever, it doesn’t matter, the point is, you said the author of the journals was a paranormal scientist? Maybe an inventor, too?”

“No, no, don’t change the subject. What portal?”

“Like a portal to another dimension?” Mabel queried. “Is that why you talked about interdimensional safety earlier?”

Oh, crud. They weren’t going to let his slip about the portal go. So much for that secret. “Just…never mind that right now. Paranormal scientist. Inventor. Like my parents. He probably didn’t know them, it would’ve been too early on for them to have made a name for themselves, they might not even have been together yet, but…. Okay. This is gonna sound crazy—”

“Crazier than everything else you’ve said?” Dipper asked dryly.

“—but just go with me on this. Please. I know what happened when my parents messed stuff up, and—”

“And you’re warning us so we’re prepared and more careful,” Mabel finished. “So I don’t get impatient and Dipper doesn’t get complacent.”

Danny frowned. “What?”

“Your warning,” she repeated. “You’re not trying to get us to stop what we’re doing. It’s a terrible warning for that. That kind of thing just makes you wanna do it more, whatever it is. So you’re actually warning us to be more careful than you think we would be otherwise.”

Danny opened his mouth to tell her that warning someone not to do something obviously meant they shouldn’t do it, and then he remembered all the times his parents had warned him not to touch stuff in the lab.

Right.

Maybe she wasn’t wrong.

Just because that was what a warning meant, didn’t mean it would always have the desired effect.

Moreover, Clockwork would know exactly what to have Danny say to get the desired effect.

He’d thought he’d come to help with the portal, but he still didn’t know the blueprints of his parents’ portal as well as Tucker did. If this were just about helping them build or fix the portal in the basement without bad consequences, Tucker was a better choice than he was, and Clockwork could most definitely have arranged that.

But Danny had joked about being the poster boy for interdimensional safety, and he could still disassemble and reassemble most of his parents’ weapons in order to tweak them, even if he wasn’t as good at it as Tucker, and he’d be an idiot to keep ignoring the fact that Clockwork had made sure he had a thermos here.

The thermos wasn’t for him. It had never been for him. It had contained him, sure, but Clockwork must’ve made sure he was stuck in one so that he’d think of this. So that he’d think of what they’d done with his evil future self. And so he’d have it when he needed it.

There was a portal in a secret lab in the basement of the Mystery Shack, and the thermos written about in Dipper’s journal was for whatever was coming out of it.

(see more fics | next)

#gravity falls #danny phantom #phantom falls #crossover #fanfiction #gf fanfiction #dp fanfiction #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #crossover snippet #gf snippet #dp snippet

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

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They’re Sayin’ (You’re Gonna Be My Man)

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2217

Summary: Sam calls Bucky too soon after he's left Louisiana, looking for advice he doesn’t really need and getting a conversation he didn’t really expect.

Sam’s supposed to wait until news of the Flag-Smashers’ movements comes down the line to get in touch with Bucky. He doesn’t. It’s sooner. It’s almost right away.

He’s sure Bucky’s gotta be out of the state, but he doesn’t know whether he’s made it back to this alleged apartment in Brooklyn (on some level, Sam’s aware that he keeps making jokes about the conspiracy of the apartment’s existence because it’s his way of daring Bucky to invite him over sometime). When he calls Bucky up, he knows he might catch him on a plane, in a cab, with a buzz of voices around him as he scowls at strangers in an airport or stomps down a sidewalk. But, other than Bucky’s voice on the other end, Sam just hears quiet, so he figures the guy made it home.

“You never told me if you had any tips,” Sam accuses straight off.

Shifting his feet, he tamps down more of the grass he’s been practicing on, squinting when sweat rolls into his eye. He just finished a brisk mile with the shield on his arm, getting used to the weight and the bulk of it, and he’s ready to start throwing again.

“Tips for what?” Bucky asks. “Fixing the boat? General life stuff? I know we had a good talk, but I think I take advice better than I give it.”

“Which is not saying much,” Sam points out with a laugh. “You suck at taking advice.”

“Until recently.”

“Until recently,” Sam allows. He takes a deep breath and leans over to the side, stretching from his run and tapping his hand on the Vibranium disc currently propped against his leg. “Nah, man, for the shield. How to throw it, how to catch it, how to pull off some of Steve’s fuckin’ boomerang tricks.”

“I thought you were gettin’ the hang of it,” Bucky says in his ear.

“I am. I just realized that, when I had you here, you did a lot of standing around and catching the shield on that cyborg arm of yours. Not a lot of active advice-giving.”

“You really want me telling you how to do your job?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, nobody said that. I am simply aware of the fact that you’re one of very few people alive who’ve handled this thing, and maybe the only one who did it with any actual competence.”

“The level of flattery is astounding,” Bucky says dryly.

“You want more, you gotta help me out,” Sam jokes back.

“Well, show me what you’re doin’.”

Sam glances around himself. Flat lawn. Waning daylight. Tall trees wrapped in the pads he’s been ricocheting the shield off of. No place good to prop his phone.

“I gotta get somebody to film me,” he realizes. “Lemme call you back.”

“Everybody’s gonna be filming you with the shield pretty soon. Only question is whether you’re doing something impressive in news footage or looking like a jackass in some kind of Avengers’ Greatest Fuckups reel.”

“Shut the hell up. I thought we were gettin’ along now.”

“Just trying to be motivational. Am I not doing it right?”

“I think you better look up the word ‘motivational’ in the dictionary while you wait for my call,” Sam suggests.

He disconnects and hangs his head, shaking it even as he smiles.

His legs are screaming for a thorough, post-workout stretch and maybe some ice on his shins—they’ve been taking the brunt every time he digs his feet into the ground and braces to snatch the returning shield from the air—but what’s another quarter mile? Sam runs to Sarah’s, arms pumping, stride a little different now that he has to accommodate the shape of the shield.

When he gets there, the boys are playing soccer on the lawn and he calls through the screen window to the kitchen to get his sister’s ok to borrow them as his training assistants. They get even more excited by the bestowing of this title and its implied responsibility than by the sight of the shield. That’s pretty incredible. Sarah caves to a temporary borrowing (supper’s almost ready) and they’re off.

On the way back, Sam lets AJ carry the shield. Seems like a nice break for himself until Cass requests a piggyback.

“Alright,” Sam agrees with a sigh, crouching in front of his nephew. “Hop on.”

Captain America’s benevolence is limitless. At least, it is this evening. When his back’s killing him tomorrow from absorbing the shock of a hundred shield throws, he will not be so easily persuaded into giving piggybacks.

In the clearing, Sam pulls his phone from the zipped pocket of his shorts and videocalls Bucky, who picks up on the first ring. His face is too close to the camera, but it’s good to see those blue eyes and the crinkles that are either there because he’s smiling in greeting or he’s confused about how a videocall works. In a few seconds, Bucky figures out for himself that he needs to hold the phone farther away. It makes Sam miss him. Also makes him a little worried because he can see the blank, white wall of Bucky’s apartment around his head. No paint, no art. Sam can’t even hear a TV or anything in the background.

“You’re not busy,” he observes.

“Not really, no,” Bucky admits.

“You coulda stayed here longer.”

“Nah, you needed time with everything, not me constantly looking over your shoulder. Shield’s yours now, Sam. I’m gonna be at your side, but you and the shield… I got no say in what that relationship is. I understand that now and I’m trying to respect it.”

“So when you’re actually doing the right thing, let you back off?”

“That’s right,” Bucky agrees.

“I’ll try to remember in case it ever happens again.”

Before Bucky can defend himself against Sam’s teasing jab, Sam passes the phone to AJ, camera turned so Bucky will still be focused on him when he starts throwing the shield again.

“Got you propped up on my human tripod,” he informs Bucky, reaching above the phone to playfully shove the side of AJ’s head. “So watch your mouth.”

“Can I say hi?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Sam warns.

And, of course, Bucky eggs the kids into a long ooooh, like they’ve caught him breaking his own rule. Which they have. But Bucky was being a smartass and the opportunity to let him know is not something Sam likes to pass up.

He’s stretching now—maybe for himself, maybe for the camera pointed his way—gripping his ankles in turn and holding his heels to his ass until he feels the pull in his thighs. Bucky’s not wrong about having this time to himself. Just him and this legendary object that’s feeling more right on his arm every time he slips it through the straps. Still, he misses what they had going the last two days. Not him and the shield, but him and Bucky. Having him here like that… It was different from every other experience Sam’s had with him. Bucky was still, in turns, a grouch and a showoff and a staring machine and a shithead (flirting with Sarah, come ON), but he was also more convincingly a person than Sam’s had the pleasure of seeing him before. At ease and multi-faceted by nature instead of the necessity of adapting in the face of a threat.

Bucky smiled.

They didn’t always bicker.

He looked damn good in the morning when they leaned against the kitchen counter, not talking, sipping their coffee.

Sam wants those minutes back so bad. Living with Bucky here was incomparable to living with him overseas. Lotta reasons for that, including not having to share the space with Baron Zemo. Mostly because this is home and Sam liked pretending, while Sarah did some well-deserved sleeping in and the boys got the hems of their pajama pants wet in the dew in the backyard, that it was real. That this breath between their fights (no longer with each other) could last and that this is where they’d hold it. It could be their kitchen, their mugs, their tousled sheets Bucky’d climbed out of, looking all rumpled and lovely and shit.

But Bucky doesn’t know what Sam pretends and Sam sure as hell isn’t going to tell him. He’s just going to keep faithful to their usual dynamic, trying for less glaring. Not a word to unsettle things, as much as he’s curious how they might handle things being unsettled. As much as his mind plays back the blinding glint off the water as they rolled up their sleeves and went to work together in a way more meaningful, more personal, than they ever have before. Plays it back all the time.

No. Quiet. Sam needs to figure himself out first and knows Bucky’s working on doing the same. Maybe sometime—but probably never—they can see how those selves overlap. All they need to make fly right now is being Captain America and… what’d that moron call himself? The White Wolf? Son of a biscuit…

“Let me see him!” Cass says excitedly, recapturing Sam’s focus.

It’s his brother he’s talking to and Sam watches fondly as AJ turns the phone to show Bucky a grinning Cass, being careful to keep it steady. Pretty damn sweet. Cass even waves while Sam stands there, watching and doing shoulder rolls.

“Hi, Uncle Bucky!”

Sam feels like he just whipped the shield out and caught the return in his stomach. He strides over to the boys and AJ passes the phone back without being asked. He’s stifling giggles despite or because he senses that his little brother shouldn’t have said that.

“One minute,” Sam tells Bucky, hardly glancing at him because he just can’t. He tilts the camera towards the ground and raises expectant eyebrows at his grinning nephews. “Did somebody tell you to call him that?”

In unison, the boys go, “No, Uncle Sam,” which is suspiciously adorable. But they aren’t liars.

“Did you hear somebody call him that?”

AJ and Cass glance at each other and that’s enough for Sam. They won’t answer, so he knows it’s Sarah who’s made this joke, put this idea in the kids’ heads. They won’t give her up though, because they’re Wilsons and they’re loyal to their mother.

Sam turns the camera back on himself, unprepared for the upward tick at the corner of Bucky’s lips that make them even harder to look away from than usual.

“My sister must’ve—”

“I know,” Bucky interrupts.

“You know?”

“Yeah. Sarah called me that to my face.”

“She did what?”

Sarah having her joke is one thing, but saying it to Bucky takes things a little far, in Sam’s opinion. Bucky could think Sarah’s serious. He could think she’s saying that because Sam’s said something to her. Something about coffee and bedsheets and the sweet ache he felt in his chest when he saw Bucky’s smile in the golden light of dawn.

“Last night, before she put the boys to bed. You were in the shower, I think.” Bucky reaches up absentmindedly to run a hand over the top of his head; the flex of his bicep in the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing and waiting for the end of this recollection are both torture for Sam. “They wanted to hang out with me, but Sarah said, ‘Uncle Bucky’s gotta get some sleep. You’ll see him tomorrow.’ Something like that.”

Now, when Sam’s truly learning the meaning of flabbergasted, Bucky’s mouth cracks into a wide, self-satisfied smile.

“You made that up,” Sam guesses helplessly.

“Nope.”

Sam knows that, with his nephews’ inability to lie and Sarah’s lifelong history of messing with him as evidence, but it would’ve been a convenient escape from the reality of his sister (and possibly the boys too) addressing Bucky as if he and Sam are together.

“Tell me you told my sister to drop the ‘Uncle.’”

Another thing Sam knows: that Bucky didn’t do that. Bucky seems happy to prove his fears correct; he shrugs.

“Sounded kinda nice,” Bucky defends. That makes Sam soften. He knows Bucky doesn’t have any living family, that he’s been struggling to allow himself to make friends. Maybe he just likes being told he belongs to them and that Sarah’s joke makes it effortless for him. Then, Bucky adds, “Pass me back to my nephews.”

Sam points a warning finger at him.

“Watch it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The crease between Bucky’s eyebrows deepens as Sam watches the pain in the ass pretend to be stern with him. “Just throw the damn shield. I thought you asked for my help.”

“I did.”

Releasing a cautious sigh, Sam hands the phone to AJ once more. The boy’s got his silliness under control and he accepts the job solemnly.

Sam’s two steps away, hefting the shield onto his arm, when he hears Bucky shout, “And my hand in marriage!”

The boys’ laughter has them rolling on the cool grass, the phone clutched in AJ’s grip, and by the time Sam wrestles it away from his nephew, the camera’s swung all over the place. Showing Bucky the sky, the dirt, some quality footage up AJ’s nose, and probably—almost definitely—the way his words made Sam smile.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes #sambucky

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socially-awkward-chocobo · 3 years

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Ok, so, the Corrupt Hylia au

Okay, so, out of the four art posts I've made, two of them have been tagged with "Corrupt Hylia au." An au I haven't really talked about that much. I should probably fix that. (Definitely. I mean definitely) Prepare for an info-dump

The Corrupt Hylia au was created when I was reading a fanfic at the same time I saw a post about how Hylia's existence made everything black and white. Some details of it were on my mind and I thought, 'hmmm, the story is too black and white,' and thus an au where Hylia is a manipulative b-tch controlling everything for her perfect hero villain story was born. Fabricating a curse, creating villains, capturing a certain someone to be the hero's "test," all with the Sheikah (but not the Yiga. They defected for a reason and Hylia is half of it.) I'll explain the 5,000 yrs ago plot, since I have that figured out but not the actual plot. It’s gonna be long and under the cut for those interested.

During one of the loops, one where she's there physically to make sure everything stays on track, a Shadow escapes and finds the hero. Lies are revealed, and all goes well until a Sheikah goes there "searching" for the hero and they have to interact with Hylia. Anyways, anyone can tell there's something wrong with Hylia, including the princess. The (corrupt) goddess just has that offsetting aura around her. Link meets here and they formulate a plan when they know they aren't being listened to. Anyways, it takes two years but they get a lot of people on their side. (Ganon, Vaati, Ghirahim, the Twili, Rito, Zora, Goron, and Gerudo) Vaati and Zelda (who have become research buddies) devise a spell to remember past lives - and that's how they learned the curse was fake, because Hylia f-cked around with the first hero's memories a lot, and the spell undid it while keeping those fabricated memories. You may have noticed, but things are going too well.

Anyways, at a parade or festival for who knows what (certainly not me) the Sheikah - who were sharing "experimental" (read: tech they've been hogging) so even people who aren't there can watch it happening. This was all part of a plan made by the Sheikah because (somehow) replaced Ghirahim's earing with one that would mind control him. (think what happened to Ingo in OoT manga.) The plan was to control him and make him wreak havoc, make people not trust him, and by extension, Ganon. That doesn't work, because Link (and Shadow) manage to break the jewel. Hylia tries to do some sort of "what an evil barbaric individual" speech, but Link cuts her off and calls her out on her bullsh-t. Not just about the parade, but about everything - the fake curse, messing around with the first hero’s memories, creating villains for the hero and princess to defeat, having the Sheikah do dirty work in the shadows, manipulating a darkling for the sake of “testing” the hero, controlling the king’s free will - EVERYTHING. And remember those speakers and cameras the Sheikah were sharing? They broadcasted all of it to Hyrule. And because Link had always been a good person, helping people out of the kindness of his heart, a lot of people believed he was telling the truth. This is the start of the war.

The ruined parade is the battlefield, they win and push back Hylia this time because she was caught off guard. But now she knows what's happening, and she is p-ssed. After the start of the rebellion, it is the first time she infuses her magic with malice. A few more battles later, a major one at Korok Forest that gets the forest children involved, and the crew makes the decision to split the Triforce into eight pieces. Ganon, Zant, and Ghirahim each have 1/3 power, Zelda, Midna, and Vaati all have 1/3 wisdom, and Link and Shadow each have 1/2 courage. If Hylia wants the entire Triforce, they're gonna make her chances of getting it as slim as possible.

One year into the war, and the scales haven't really tipped to either side. But Shadow (who was incapacitated and couldn't come out), Ganon, and Link were up against Hylia. Hylia uses an illusion on Link to make herself look like either a Marin or a past Zelda, and it makes Link freeze up and give Hylia a chance to attack and try to kill Link. Except that Ganon took the hit instead. Link snaps out of it, stuns Hylia, and tries retreating with Ganon. He doesn't get to Ghirahim in time, and so by the time Zelda can heal him, it's too late. With the demoralizing death of Ganon, things start to spiral downhill. Over the next three years they lost Vaati, Zant, and almost Midna. The only small victory that happened was Shadow breaking the mirror the Sheikah had forced bonded them to, and would mean that the Sheikah wouldn't be able to just count on Shadow stumbling out of there when he died anymore. (Shadow thought this meant his next death would be his last.)

Four more years after that, there are more fights and they get pushed back more and more. Somehow (haven't figured out how yet) they get in contact with the main three goddesses (Din, Nayru, Farore) and Hyrule will be sealed underground by them, Hylia with it. They know this won't be permanent, and hope it buys them enough time for the next reincarnation cycle to happen. As they leave, they're being followed by Hylia and the Sheikah. Link and Shadow make a decision to stay behind and make sure Hylia stays underground until the sealing. They know they're going to die doing this, but the worse they hurt Hylia, the longer it will take for her to break the seal.

The other leaders try to argue to let somebody else do it (mainly Zelda and Midna), but Link argues back that Hyrule needs their leaders, and Ghirahim made a promise to Ganon, one he can't keep if he's trapped or dead. So Zelda caves and creates a bow of light with enough charge for five arrows. The other leaders (and Ghira) all add some of their own magic to it, and Link and Shadow head off. The next part is going to be ripped directly from my notes because I'm lazy I don't know how else to phrase it.

Once they get to where the Sheikah are, Shadow immediately starts using the shadows to teleport and starts killing large amounts of them. Link kills whoever is foolish enough to attack him head-on swiftly with the Master Sword. They carve a path to Hylia.

The fight with Hylia is long and brutal. It is clear now that Hylia is using malice and is clearly affected by it. Malice-like pink is spreading on her along with one of her eyes becoming a malice eye. And it has not done anything for her sanity.

Hylia sends a lethal blast of light magic into Shadow and Link is covered in Malice injuries

Link gets separated from the Master Sword. Hylia is about to land the finishing blow on him when Shadow - who is currently dying btw - picks up the Master Sword (which is actively burning his hands and speeding up his death) and stabs her from behind. Shadow says something and Link uses the Light Bow. One shot in the head, one shot in the throat, one shot in the heart, one shot in the stomach, and one shot right on the master sword - which causes a beam affect that they learned about in one of the war’s earlier battles. Hylia isn’t dead, but she won’t be recovering for a while.

Link and Shadow share some final words before dying.

I still need to figure out the actual plot and stuff, but uh, if you read to the end, I hope you enjoyed! ^_^

(Ps: if there’s anything triggering or stuff, ask for me to tag and I will)

#Corrupt Hylia au #the legend of zelda #loz #zelda au #death tw #ch hylia #ch link #ch shadow #ch zelda #ch vaati #ch ganon #ch ghirahim #ch midna #ch zant #that should be everyone explicitly mentioned #dang it I meant biased in Hylia's favor not too black and white

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livesincerely · 4 years

Text

dress you up, dress you down ch.1 - dress you up

aka the Tie Fic. Also on Ao3

00000

“So. Davey.”

Davey pauses mid-sip. He looks at Katherine, then down at the cup of coffee in his hand—it’s the expensive kind, the kind that comes with milk and sugar, the kind that Davey would never dare buy for himself—then back up at Katherine, and realizes that he’s been tricked.

He sets his cup down with a heavy sigh. “What is it?”

To her credit, Katherine doesn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “Jack needs new clothes.”

Davey’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Okay...” he says after a moment of consideration. “Why does Jack need new clothes? We got him that art smock so he’d stop getting paint on his selling shirts and I haven’t noticed any rips or tears—“

“No, not his selling clothes,” Katherine interrupts. “I want to get him a few outfits that he can wear for his shifts in the art department. He keeps coming in wearing his Newsies cap and he showed up at my father’s office on Friday with a piece of tie-line holding his pants up instead of a belt.”

“He didn’t,” Davey says, though he doesn’t find it at all hard to believe, torn between laughter and exasperation.

“He really did,” Katherine says, the corners of her eyes crinkling up in amusement. “I’m sure a lot of it is just impertinence for impertinence’s sake—understandable after all that’s happened—and god knows it’s good to have someone around that won’t jump at my father’s every beck and call, but Davey,“ Katherine leans forward, her expression turning serious, “you get why things can’t continue on this way, don’t you?”

Davey takes a long drink of his coffee to give his thoughts a chance to settle. Because the thing is, Davey absolutely understands Katherine’s concern.

Jack’s new position at The World is a fantastic opportunity, especially for someone who wasn’t born with the privileges of a full education, a comfortable home, or family connections to ease his way in life. This job might just be a weekly political cartoon, but it has the potential to one day be so much more: the start of a life-long career, where Jack can do something he loves and get paid a fair wage to do it.

Jack’s hard working and smart and so incredibly talented, but he’s also stubborn as a mule and dead set against submitting to any kind of authority, even over something as simple as an office dress code. Pulitzer and the other managers in the art department might be willing to look over Jack’s apparel for now, but not forever—the last thing Davey wants is for Jack to get passed up for promotions, raises, and projects because he can’t dress the part.

“Yeah,” Davey finally says. “I get it. It’s a good idea, Kath.”

“Great!” Katherine exclaims. “So now we just have to convince Jack to let us pick out some business casual clothes for him; I was thinking we could spend tomorrow uptown, my tailor will be able to see us right away, I’m sure, and we can get Jack’s measurements taken and have him fitted for a few—“

“Wait, hold on,” Davey says, suddenly wrong-footed. “How did I become involved in this? It’s your idea!”

“But it’ll be easier to convince him if he hears it from both of us,” Katherine says. She’s hitting him with the wide-eyed, pouty, please-Davey-do-this-favor-for-me face. Joke’s on her: if Les and Sarah hadn’t already indoctrinated him against that face years ago, the last couple of months spent as the lone voice of reason amongst the chaos that is the Lower Manhattan Newsies would’ve done the trick. “And it would be helpful to have your opinion when he starts trying things on.”

“You mean, it’ll be helpful to have me there to take the fall if Jack hates the idea,” Davey says.

“Oh, sure, like Jack’s gonna be angry with you,” Katherine says, rolling her eyes.

Davey patently ignores this comment. “I mean, you clearly have a handle on the situation,” he continues, fingers drumming against the rim of his coffee cup. “I’m sure you don’t really need me to—“

“If you come with me to pitch this to Jack, I’ll make sure he leaves with a new set of suspenders,” Katherine says.

Davey blinks, his protests thoroughly derailed. Katherine knows him too well.

“I hate you,” he says, blowing out a breath. “Fine, I’ll go. But I’m telling you now, Jack’s not gonna be happy about this.”

“All we have to do is present a united front,” Katherine states with incredible confidence. “He can’t argue if it’s both of us.”

“No. Hell no,” Jack says when they approach him the next day. The two of them have been talking for all of five minutes and Katherine and Jack both look ready to throw punches. Davey’s relatively sure it won’t come to that, though honestly, his money’s on Katherine if it does.

“Jack, would you please just—“ Katherine gets out through clenched teeth.

“I said no, Kath! How many more times do you wanna hear it? No!”

Katherine throws Davey an exasperated look—one that says ‘for the love of God, talk some sense into him.’

“Jack,” Davey starts, taking a step closer to him. “I think you should let Kathy take you shopping for some new clothes.”

Jack whirls around to face him, his eyes dark with irritation. “Dave, just ‘cause I’m workin’ a desk gig don’t mean I need some fancy geddup to do my damn job—“

“Jack, no one’s saying you need to start showing up to The World dressed to the nines,” Davey says, “but don’t you think having a nice set of office clothes would get the other workers to treat you with more respect?”

“I shouldn’t hafta dress a certain way to get treated decent,” Jack says, and he still looks upset but he’s starting to settle down. “Havin’ money don’t make ya a better worker and being poor don’t make me an idiot.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Davey asks, running a hand soothingly along Jack’s shoulders until the tension there eases. “I’m not saying it’s fair, of course it’s not fair—but stuff like this never is. It’s about knowing the game and learning how to play it. Katherine and I just want to make sure you got a decent shot at it.”

Jack holds Davey’s gaze for a long moment, then the last of the fight drains out of him.

“Fine,” he huffs. “What exactly did the two of ya have in mind?”

00000

Katherine doesn’t give Jack the opportunity to reconsider. She drags them uptown to a little tailor’s shop with a neat, simple storefront, but whose glossy windows and brass finishes make it clear that this is a place that caters to the upper class.

The bell above the doorway chimes gently as they enter. The young woman behind the counter looks up from where she’s taking inventory and greets them with a smile; a moment later an older gentleman with a head of salt and pepper hair comes out of a back room, his arms open wide in welcome.

“Miss Katherine,” he exclaims, taking one of Kathy’s hands in his own and kissing the back of it. “How good it is to see you once more! And you have brought friends!”

“Good morning, Giovanni,” Katherine greets warmly. “This is David and this is Jack. Jack’s the latest hire in the art department—he works on political cartoons.”

“Jack… Kelly?” Giovanni asks. “Yes, I have seen your work! I very much enjoyed the cartoon with the little shoe shiner. Was very funny!”

Jack looks a little caught off guard—like he wants to dislike Giovanni on sheer principle, but is finding it difficult in the face of such an honest compliment.

“Uh... nice to meet ya,” Jack says.

“We’re looking to get Jack fitted for a few things,” Katherine explains. “Business casual, office wear. Do you have time to see us now?”

“Of course, Miss Katherine,” Giovanni says. “We will get this taken care of right away. Abigail!” The girl at the front counter scurries over. “Turn the sign on the door—we have a project and must not be disturbed!”

Giovanni has Jack stand on a small footstool towards the back of the store. He makes a slow circle around him—pulling a tape measure out of one of his apron pockets and whipping it to and fro—eyeing Jack critically and muttering rapidly to Abigail, who trails behind him dutifully taking notes.

For his part, Jack looks deeply uncomfortable with having such careful scrutiny trained on him. Davey tries to seem calm and reassuring but he’s not sure how successful he is: he’s feeling a bit out of his depth as well.

Finally, Giovanni steps back. “This is enough to start with,” he says, nodding decisively.

“What options can we look at right now?” Katherine asks, with a kind of intensity that Davey would be hard pressed to muster up over any clothing, no matter its quality. “Ideally we’d like to leave here with at least one full outfit.”

“We keep a selection of our most popular styles on hand for customers to try on before purchase,” Giovanni offers. “Would you like to begin with those? I can think of several that would flatter the young gentleman.”

Katherine smiles. “That sounds perfect.”

The two of them have a quick conversation about colors and cuts and fabrics that goes over Davey’s head, then Giovanni is bustling Jack into a changing area, his arms weighed down with bolts of cloth and a mouthful of stick pins. In the meantime, Abigail ushers Katherine and Davey over to a pair of cushioned stools set up next to a tri-fold mirror, ostensibly so they’ll have the best view from which to offer commentary and cast judgement.

Or, really, for Katherine to cast judgement. Davey suspects his main job will be mediating when the argument between ‘An Actual Heiress’ Kath and ‘the paint stains on this vest match my hat so it’s fine’ Jack inevitably breaks out.

They’ve not been waiting very long when Jack comes out of the fitting room to model the first outfit. Davey glances over when he hears the rustle of the curtain being pushed back and—

Oh.

Jack is wearing a navy blue button down with a pair of dark gray slacks and a matching vest. The colors and cuts aren’t that much different than his usual garb, but the way everything fits makes a whole world of difference. Oh good god, does everything fit.

Davey’s eyes bounce here and there, his brain unable to decide which part of the incredible sight to focus on. There’s the strong line of Jack’s shoulders, which look even broader than usual because of how the vest tapers in at the waist. Or how the fabric of the pants drapes nicely around Jack’s thighs, perfectly highlighting the toned muscle underneath.

Jack looks back to ask Giovanni a question. Davey’s eyes trail up the backs of his legs as he turns, then up over the curve of his ass—

Davey ducks his head to hide his burning face. Oh no.

“That looks great, Giovanni,” Katherine says. “How does it feel, Jack?”

“Like it’s too damn expensive,” Jack mutters. He’s standing strangely: holding his arms out from his sides like he’s trying his hardest not to touch the clothes even as he wears them. “I’m still not convinced that all this is necessary.”

“Do not start with me, Jack Kelly,” Katherine says, one eyebrow lifted. “Now honestly, what do you think?”

“Well... it fits,” Jack says lamely. “That’s all that matters, right?”

“Jack,” Katherine starts with a huff.

“I’m serious!” Jack says defensively. “I’m not tryin’ta get on ya nerves, Kath, but I dunno what else there is to say.”

Katherine considers him for a moment, then sighs, disappointed but accepting the answer. “Davey, what do you think.”

Davey’s throat works. He still sort of feels like someone’s hit him over the head, but he manages to say, “The gray is nice. You can match it with a bunch of different colored shirts.”

“Hmm...” Katherine hums, tilting her head to the side. “Simple, versatile... sure, we can make that work.”

“Versatile?” Jack whispers to Davey.

Davey gets caught between not staring at Jack and trying not to look like he’s avoiding staring at Jack; his gaze lands somewhere around Jack’s left ear. “She means colors like black and gray and navy and brown—stuff that goes with everything.”

“Right, okay,” Jack mutters to himself. “That don’t sound too bad.”

Another quick conversation between Giovanni and Katherine, then Jack’s back in the fitting room to try on a second option. As the curtain pulls shut, Davey feels himself let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Katherine glances over at him and says, “Aren’t you glad you agreed to come with us?”

Davey’s blush had been fading, but it flairs up again with a vengeance. “You are the worst person.”

“I am the best person,” Katherine corrects. “I’m the reason you know what Jack looks like in pants that actually fit his waist—“

“Katherine,” Davey hisses, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“—and I saw you staring at his biceps. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

“Katherine, oh my god—!”

Jack comes out again, this time in a black and white ensemble, and still looking far too handsome for someone who’s been safety pinned into his clothes.

“I like this, but it’s a little... plain.” Katherine says, mercifully distracted from tormenting Davey any further.

“And? What’s wrong with plain?” Jack grumbles. He moves as if to cross his arms across his chest, then seems to remember all the sharp pins sitting very close to his skin. He settles for tucking his hands in his pockets. “Plain works just fine for me.”

“It needs something to finish the look,” Kath muses, ignoring Jack completely. She looks at Giovanni and asks, “What sorts of ties do you have?”

“No. Absolutely not. Ya mighta talked me into a coupla shirts but ya ain’t gonna put me in no tie—“

“We have a fine selection, Miss Katherine,” Giovanni responds, joining Katherine in talking over Jack’s protests. “In fact, we just received a variety of silk ties in a number of colors. I will fetch the display—“

Jack’s eyes bug out a little when he hears the work silk, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly; Davey fairs only slightly better. Katherine and Giovanni don’t pay them any mind—examining the assortment of ties, weighing the pros and cons of each one, occasionally holding one up next to Jack’s face and frowning.

After a few more seconds of spluttering, Jack seems to come to terms with the fact that he’s leaving with a tie. He points at the array Giovanni has brought over and says, “What about that blue one?”

“You and your blue,” Katherine mutters, shaking her head. “How about something different for once? This silver one is nice. Or, how about this one, with the stripes—“

“If you’re gonna make me get a tie, you could at least let me pick it out,” Jack grumbles. “I like the blue one.”

“You can’t only wear blue, Jack,” Katherine says, a little testily. “You need to have different options.”

“Don’t seem so important to me,” Jack says with a shrug. “Blue’s a good color: it don’t stain too easy, it’s versatile.” His eyes dart briefly to Davey, and then away again. “And it’s my favorite.”

“Be that as it may, I still think you should choose something else—“

“Jeeze, why does it matter so much—“

“The red one,” Davey blurts out, and given that he hadn’t meant to say anything at all, it comes out much louder than he’d intended it to.

Katherine and Jack halt their bickering and they all turn to look at him. Davey regrets opening his mouth.

He swallows, then awkwardly continues, “You should try the red one. It looks nice—red is a nice color, I mean. You’d look good in it, or it’d look good on you. Either, really, I guess. And, um... yeah.”

“Uh, okay,” Jack says when Davey trails off. “Sure, let’s try the red one.”

Giovanni slips the tie around Jack’s neck and knots it for him with professional ease. Jack flips his collar back down, then tucks the ends hesitantly under his vest. He stares at himself in the mirror, twisting and turning as he checks himself over from all the different angles.

It looks nice. Better than nice, actually. Maybe even incredible. Davey tugs at the collar of his own shirt, suddenly feeling overheated.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Katherine declares. She’s not even looking at Jack, instead she’s watching Davey for his reaction. She pins him with a knowing smirk, and Davey blushes even harder, privately wishing for a nice, cozy sinkhole to open up beneath him and put him out of his misery.

“I dunno,” Jack murmurs dubiously, not noticing the exchange. “What do you think, Dave? Does it live up to your expectations?”

Davey really wishes Jack would stop asking for his opinion. He already feels like he’s suffocating—Jack could at least do him the courtesy of letting him die unharassed.

“...I think it looks good,” Davey mutters into the floor.

Jack does another turn. “I still think the blue one woulda been nice...”

“Get the tie,” Katherine orders.

“But—“

“Get the tie before I stab you with these fabric scissors.”

Jack ends up leaving with two vest-and-pants combinations, one in black and one in gray, four dress shirts in various colors, the promised suspenders, a new pair of shoes, and the red silk tie. Katherine leaves with an incredibly satisfied expression and Davey leaves with significantly elevated blood pressure.

As they walk back home, Katherine says, “So do you want me to hold on to everything, or do you want Davey to?”

“What?” Jack asks.

“Who do you want to keep your new clothes, me or Davey?” Katherine repeats.

Jack and Davey stare at her, not grasping her meaning.

“You don’t have anywhere to keep them at the Lodging House, and I would say you could see if Medda would let you keep them at the theater but I know they wouldn’t last the day before they were covered in paint,” Katherine explains. “So? Me or Davey?”

“I guess I’ll have Davey keep ‘em for me, if that’s okay,” Jack decides, glancing at Davey for permission. “Probably easier that way.”

“Um, sure, that’s fine,” Davey says, taking the garment bag when Jack hands it to him. “You can get changed at mine, and we can clean and press them for you too.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jack agrees. “I’ll just pop over before my shift tomorrow, yeah?”

Davey imagines tomorrow, imagines trying to deal with Jack in a suit and tie first thing in the morning, and can feel his expression start to falter. “Sounds good,” he says weakly.

00000

Chapter two here

#newsies #javid #Jack Kelly #davey jacobs #*the writing desk #*final cut #*editor's note #the tie fic #tease series #this was not supposed to be this long #but im really happy with how it turned out

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