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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

hello i love your work!! can you do a part 2 to worth our time? :”) maybe wherein carol is actually getting soft for the reader and wants to be together but the reader is hesitant bc of carol being known as a player? maybe some jealous carol as well? 😳😳

Soft!jock!Carol is a god tier idea and I really hope I did it justice

Shout out to @wlwmarvelenthusiast for helping me with my technical difficulties

Part 1

7.5k words

Warnings: oral, praise and double ended dildo use

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Why are you ignoring Carol?" Wanda asked with a frown as you sped out of the school car park a little too hastily. She narrowed her eyes at you, ready to read into every expression that flickered across your face.

"I'm not ignoring her, I'm avoiding her. It's different." You insisted as you kept your eyes on the road in front of you, determined to leave the school grounds before a certain blonde left the building and got into her own car.

"It's exactly the same thing just in a different font." Wanda stated as she continued to watch you.

"It's not. And anyway, I'm not obligated to talk to her." You said quieter, not finding enough confidence in your words. Of course you weren't obligated to talk to Carol, but you missed it - more than you would admit to yourself.

"I know, I thought you liked her though. You said your date went well with her but since then you run out of every room she enters."

"It wasn't really a date." You muttered as took a left and eyed your mirror.

"Y/n." Wanda laughed. "I think I know a date when it's described to me."

"But it's Carol, Wanda. Carol doesn't do dates." You insisted as you tried your hardest to avoid your friend's gaze again. You didn't want her to see the pain in your eyes.

"She did with you."

"She went down on me-"

"Yes, I remember that catch up conversation." Wanda chuckled and you threw an empty sweet packet you had left in the car at her.

"And I'm not complaining about that. It's just... you know I'm not one to judge people by rumors, but Carol seems like a pretty strict 'hookups only' type of gal. Every time me and Carol are alone together we end up fucking and again, I'm not complaining about that, but it's enough to tell me she doesn't want anything more from me. Not even fuck buddies, because she doesn't commit to girls." You breathed out deeply as you parked up outside yours and Wanda's favourite coffee shop, suddenly not able to tell if you weren't in the mood for your hot chocolate or in desperate need of one.

"I think there might be a little more to it than that." Wanda said after a moment. She knew where you were coming from but she also couldn't deny the fidgety nature and anxious look in the blonde's eyes a few days prior.

"She called it a date last time you were together, she hasn't done that before. She was worried when you were sick and she's only ever worried when her teammates are sick."

"She wasn't worried." You rolled your eyes lightly and managed a small smile at Wanda.

"Oh she definitely was."

You groaned when you heard your phone vibrate on your bedside table. You rolled over begrudgingly, only bothering to check it because you knew it was lunch break at school and it might have been Wanda sending you the class notes you had asked for.

Unknown number: when I saw you weren't in class I assumed you were dead

You frowned as you took a double take of the message and the number you didn't recognize. The fuck? You decided to respond anyway, if they were in your class and texted you maybe they would send you their notes too.

You: sorry, who is this??

Unknown number: your favourite jock ;)

They replied, pretty much instantly. You put two and two together, but really the smirking face would have been enough.

You: Carol? How did you get this number??

You rubbed your eyes and pulled you sick bowl closer to you, frowning at the discomfort you felt.

Unknown number: so I am your favourite jock?? Good to know

You rolled your eyes and groaned more, knowing Carol wouldn't be forgetting that in a hurry. You didn't respond to that, instead shutting off your phone in hopes of getting more sleep but a minute later another text came through. You knew it would be Carol, but you still reached over to check it.

Unknown number: and Wanda gave it to me

"Dammit, Wanda." You grumbled, going to write her an angry message but Carol had something else to say.

Unknown number: I asked very nicely

You fought off a smile weakly and decided to change her contact, telling yourself it might be useful to keep it.

Jackass: You home alone?

She didn't seem to want to stop talking. Although you couldn't deny that it made you smile more when you wondered if she meant was anyone there to look after you.

You: I am, parents have to work

Jackass: want me to come over and make you feel better? ;)

Suddenly you didn't feel like talking to Carol anymore. You were sick and feeling crappy and all Carol wanted to do was fuck, she was hardly subtle about it either. If you hadn't already been thinking long and hard about what the jock could possible think of you, that would have been the moment you started to ponder it.

With your mood somehow lowered even more, you turned your phone off to go back to sleep, accidentally swiping the notification that read Jackass: * :)

"I still can't believe you gave her my number." You grumbled as you swirled the chocolaty drink in front of you.

"She did ask very nicely." Wanda grinned.

"Enough about her." You said, leaning forward on your elbows to grin back at your friend. "How's your girlfriend?"

You were on your phone when you saw a donut being pushed across the table towards you out of the corner of your eye. It was your favourite type that also happened to be the one the cafeteria rarely sold, so when it landed in front of you you looked up with a smile, expecting to see Wanda smiling knowingly back at you.

Carol grinned as she pulled out the chair opposite you and sat herself down. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda who was trying to hide her smile and look away.

"It's for you." Carol said after a second.

"What do I have to do for it?" You asked, only half joking as you eyed the treat suspiciously.

"Come on another date with me." She winked. You leaned back and looked away from Carol and the donut, displeased but not surprised. "Nothing." Carol said quickly. "You don't have to do anything, I just know that one's your favourite." The blonde said. You had never told her that. You eyed Wanda again who quickly looked away like she hadn't been watching the interaction and leaned into Natasha.

"Thank you, Danvers." You said quietly, moving the napkin that the donut was on closer to you.

"I thought we were passed that." Carol chuckled, you wanted to smile at the sound. Carol leaned down to grab something out of her rucksack as you started on the donut, not entirely sure if you should try make conversation or just run away.

"I took notes yesterday, while you were gone." The jock said as she put her notebook on the table and flicked through her badly organised pages to find the one she was looking for. You raised your eyebrows slightly in response.

You had never once seen Carol take actual notes in class, but when she spun the book around to face you you were even more surprised to see the detailed notes she had been taking, even with a couple of small diagrams at the bottom she had probably copied from the board.

"Are they okay? Wilson's pretty good at this shit I'm sure I could get him to-"

"They're great!" You interrupted. "They're...fuck, I'm sorry but since when did you take notes?" You didn't want to seem rude but it felt like you were witnessing a never before seen event or the discovery of a new species.

"Just figured you would want them." Carol shrugged and took a sandwich out her bag.

"Yeah I... thank you." You muttered and smiled when you saw a small doodle of a star. "Can I?" You asked as you motioned to your phone's camera. Carol nodded with a smile and watched as you took photos of her notes.

Wanda coughed from across the table and you shot daggers at her, knowing what she so desperately wanted to say. She hasn't done that for anyone else.

"It was sweet of her though." Wanda pointed out as her eyes stayed fixed on Natasha's form.

"It was, but you've gotten me donuts before and you don't want to date me." You said as you tried to stop your eyes trailing to Carol again as they seemed to keep doing.

"Well if Natasha wasn't here..." Wanda teased with a smile. You rolled your eyes at your friend and chuckled.

"Are Carol's abs as hard as they look?" Wanda asked randomly. You couldn't help but look up at the blonde at the mention of her name and perhaps one of your favourite things about her.

It was a hot day and her team was training hard on the field, so most of the athletes had their shirts off. Carol's abs were on full display and given the amount of core stretches she had been doing they were as prominent as ever.

"They are." You muttered, remembering the first time you ran your hands across her chest.

You heard giggling in the row behind you and turned around to see a group of girls also watching Carol and her team train. It was obvious their gazes fell on the same area yours had and suddenly you remembered the long list of names that Carol used to show off proudly.

The girl's whispers became louder as did the giggling and without realizing what you were doing you found yourself comparing you to them. They were popular, effortlessly beautiful and probably had much more experience than you ever had. You couldn't compete with that. Especially when you didn't even know why Carol wanted you. You rested your head on your knees and tried to zone out the world around you as your insecurities ate at you more.

"Come on." Wanda nudged you gently as she stood up from the bleachers. You grabbed your bag and followed after her, noticing that practice was apparently over.

Natasha was standing at the bottom of the bleachers and pulled Wanda into a tight hug. You smiled at the motion, wishing you had what they did.

"Hey." Carol said to you, her eyes shining lightly in the sun.

"Hey yourself." You nodded as you began to walk behind Wanda and Nat. Carol fell into place beside you and made you think about the height difference between you. You were convinced she could give the best piggy back rides.

"You make it look easy." You blurted out. Carol arched a perfect brow at you as she pulled her shirt over her head. "Sport." You generalized, waving your hands.

"Y/n is allergic to sport." Wanda called back.

"Is that right?" Carol smirked as she looked at you.

"It is not, it's just not my thing." You defended.

"Then what is your thing?" Carol asked curiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You replied as you searched your brain, not really knowing if you had a thing. Nothing serious at least.

"I would." Carol fired back.

"That's too bad." The jock smiled and decided not to push.

"I'm sure there's a sport you can do." Carol pondered.

"If there is if it could be added to the curriculum that would be really helpful." You sighed.

"Y/n L/n, are you failing a class?" Carol gasped dramatically. You groaned when Wanda laughed, confirming the blonde's assumption.

"Could be worse, I fail loads of classes and everything seems to work out okay." Carol said calmly, seemingly completely unfazed.

You reached the car park and slowed down when you saw Natasha follow Wanda to her car. Wanda was your lift to school and therefore your ride home too. You had stayed behind to study in the library and joined your friend on the bleachers when it shut to see the last of the teams training, not thinking about the fact Wanda was staying behind so she could hang out with Natasha after.

"I can give you a ride home." Carol offered as she threw her car keys up in the air and caught them easily. You pondered that for a second, you really didn't want to be a third wheel to your friend, even if it was a short drive home.

"Yeah, thanks, Danvers." Wanda gave you a knowing smile as she waved goodbye and practically ran to her car with Natasha.Yeah, definitely the best call to leave them alone.

You got into Carol's car and tried to ignore all the memories you had of being in the backseat, instead resting your arm against the window to try and keep your focus on that. Carol didn't say much as you drove which surprised you. She seemed deep in thought about something and you couldn't help but wonder what.

"You want to come to mine?" She said suddenly. You froze in your seat before answering.

"Just my place will do. For me only! I mean I... I have homework." You rambled and felt your whole face heat up. You wondered if being in a car with Wanda and Natasha jumping each other could possibly be more uncomfortable than being sat with Carol and trying to decline her advances.

"I could help." She offered, seemingly genuinely.

"I can handle it." You forced a laugh. Carol nodded and didn't say anything else until she pulled up to your house.

"Thanks again, Danvers." You smiled at the blonde as you hauled you bag up and opened the door.

"I'm always happy to help you out, y/n." Carol smiled back your way genuinely and your stomach did a little flip.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you made your way through the school corridors and opened the double doors to the library. You smiled to the librarian as always and got a limited response but your smile faltered when you saw your usual table was taken... by Carol.

She was in her training attire and scrolling mindlessly through her phone until she glanced up and saw you. "Hey." She smiled.

"Are you lost?" You asked as you walked towards her slowly.

"No and go get changed." Was all she said as she pushed a bag of school gym clothes towards you.

"And why would I do that?" You sighed as you peered into the bag.

"Y/n," Carol started as she tilted her chair back and rested her hands behind her head with her feet on the table, her usual confident smile playing on her lips. "Does it or does it not absolutely kill you that you're failing a class?" You paused before flicking yours eyes up to her. Yes, it absolutely did.

"And am I or am I not the best athlete in the school?" Also hard to argue with. You shifted on your feet.

"Come on, y/n. I promise I'll help you at least pass the class." Carol said with certainty. You chewed your gum as you thought about it.

"What do you get out of it?" You asked as you narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

"I can go to sleep at night knowing I've helped an underling." She grinned. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile at her, Carol continued to smile back at you.

"That A* you got us on that project made me pass the class." Carol shrugged.

"Alright, Danvers." You nodded and picked up the bag. "But no funny business."

"Great!" She exclaimed and took her feet off the table to stand up.

"I'll see you in the main hall in 10."

Barely ten minutes into Carol's 'warm ups' you were already out of breath and in need of a break. You glared at her every time she barked orders at you with a grin, clearly enjoying bossing you around.

"Catch!" Carol exclaimed as she hauled a basketball at you. You ducked out the way and watched it fly past your head.

"You trying to kill me?!" Carol was bent over laughing at your exasperation and inability to catch a simple ball.

"Shut the fuck up, Danvers." You huffed but managed to hit the second ball that came your way.

"You really are allergic to sports huh?" She teased as you scowled at her. "Okay, let's start with the basics."

Surprisingly, from that point onward Carol wasn't that bad. She gave you a lot of pointers that honestly proved helpful because you slowly started to improve. Granted, you were still bad, but you were better.

"Arms like this." She instructed and watched as you mimicked her shooting position. "Elbows a little higher." You did as she said but she smiled at the attempt and stepped behind you. You froze up a little when she put her hands over yours and lifted them up too to a position that felt more natural.

"You got it." She assured, speaking right next to your ear so you could feel her breath against your skin. Then she withdrew her soft hands from yours and backed away. You missed the contact immediately.

"Now shoot." She instructed. You missed.

Carol trained you after school pretty much every day after that. Your limbs always ached after those sessions, so much so you were tempted to cave and take Carol up on her offer of a back rub.

You found that some sports were actually kind of fun to play with Carol, whether it was the absence of the pressure you got in a full class of teenagers or just because you enjoyed the blonde's company, it wasn't all that bad.

You still couldn't find a sport you were good at, but you didn't really care. You wondered what would happen when you did. Would Carol coach you at it for a bit then abandon your sessions? They couldn't keep going forever. The pang you got in your chest was the reason you had been ignoring Carol weeks prior, you didn't want to feel that for her. You just couldn't help it.

"Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." You recalled as Valkyrie wrote it down.

"I knew it was something like that." She waved off.

"Yeah you were really close with..." You glanced at her notes. "She gives me a boner." You laughed and put your face in your hand.

"That's the modern day translation!" Valkyrie exclaimed defensively.

"Please don't put that in your exam." You sighed as you flicked through your copy of Romeo and Juliet to find the next act.

"One sec." Valkyrie said as she looked down at her phone that was vibrating on the desk with a caller ID that you couldn't read.

"Hey, Captain." Valkyrie answered. You looked her way and back at your book quickly. There was more than one Captain in the school.

"I'm in the library studying." She continued and paused for the other voice to speak. "It's not that bad, a pretty girl's teaching me Romeo and Juliet." Valkyrie winked at you and you smiled weakly back, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Fucking jocks and their shameless flirtation.

"Yeah I'll be done soon, see you then." She said and hung up the phone before turning back to you.

"Are there any quotes about boners?" The minutes after that went by painstakingly slowly. It was only a one off tutoring session that you would get an extra credit for, but you could think of a million things you would rather be doing with your lunch break.

Valkyrie nodded past you at someone at the library entrance. You turned around out of instinct and saw Carol strolling towards your table, eyes focused on you.

"Thanks for this." Valkyrie said as she packed away her things. "If I pass the exam I'm gonna have to find some way to make it up to you." She smirked as her eyes trailed over your legs.

You glanced at Carol who looked far from pleased at Valkyrie's comment and couldn't help but smile because that is exactly what she sounded like to you sometimes.

"That's okay." You muttered as you tried to avoid her gaze and put your books back in your bag.

"Alright, but I'm having a party this weekend. You should come."

"I'm not really a party person." You laughed awkwardly, wanting the encounter to be over.

"You don't have to spend long at the party itself." Valkyrie shrugged as she took a bold step towards you. "You could always stay in my room-"

"She said no." Carol cut in. Her eyes bore into Valkyrie's with a look that said the conversation was over. Her stance was firm and her jaw was tightly locked as she glared at her team mate. Valkyrie frowned and looked back at you as you fiddled with your bag zip and avoided her eye, silently thanking Carol even if she had been a tad aggressive.

"Right, sorry." Valkyrie muttered before making her way past you. Carol gave you a small smile before turning to leave with her team mate. You were sure Wanda would have something to say about that.

It was a few days until you saw Carol again. She had texted you to briefly say she had practice after school and you didn't see her at lunch breaks either. It annoyed you to admit you missed her company.

With every second you spent with the jock your crush on her grew. You knew that any longer and you may just end up head over heals for her which would only end in heart break for you. But every time you saw the wisp of blonde hair, shine of brown eyes with her confident smile or even just that god damn varsity jacket, you didn't care about how it could end.

It was a Thursday when she texted you during lunch to ask if you wanted to practice after school. You replied a little too eagerly with a yes and continued listening to Wanda rant about something dumb Pietro had done.

A few hours later you held a bat in your hands and prepared for Carol to throw the ball your way. She wasn't very talkative that day, a rarity for the blonde. You wanted to ask if something was up with her but the concentrated look on her face made you not want to disrupt her train of thought.

"I'm sorry." She said suddenly.

"That's alright." You sighed as you watched the ball roll across the field. That was a particularly fast throw.

"About snapping in the library." Carol corrected. "I didn't mean to make it awkward." She said as she scratched the back or her neck then stretched her arm to throw again.

"You didn't." You assured honestly. "I was already uncomfortable." You huffed as you missed another throw from Carol even after trying to apply all her tips.

"Val can be quite persistent." Carol said, still not showing her smile.

"Just like someone else I know." You shrugged. Carol faltered at the obvious call out.

"Lets switch." She said quietly and handed you her glove as she took the bat from you. She explained to you the basics of her own throwing techniques and had a few recommendations on what she thought might work best for you.

"If you ever told me no, I'd back off." Carol said as put the bat up. You were thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation.

"I know you would have." You hoped Carol noticed your use of past tense. You had already decided that sex with her again would be too dangerous for you. God only knows what you would end up blurting out. You cringed at the thought of confessing your love for Carol as she fucked you.

Your eyes shifted to the track team that were doing their laps around another part of the field. They made it look as easy as always.

"You got eyes for one of them, y/n?" Carol asked in a voice that seemed more curious than teasing.

"Not my type." You muttered as you threw the ball weakly again.

"What is your type?" Carol asked, unable to mask her curiosity that time.

"I don't know." You huffed. The blonde looked at you expectantly, clearly hoping for something more. "And what's your type, Danvers?" You asked, successfully shifting the conversation when you saw a glint in Carol's eyes. Her smile returned.

"Eh, about (your height), (your eye colour) eyes, terrible at sport but really cute so it's dorky." Carol shrugged. Damn, that could almost be me. You glanced up at the blonde to throw again and saw her smirking at you.

"Someone should warn her." You joked in a feeble attempt to hide your disappointment that we swelling in the pit of your stomach.

"I just did." Wait... Carol's smirk grew as she watched the realization spread across your face. You blushed deeply and tried to fight off a smile.

"I don't think baseball's working either." You muttered.

"You know it's strange, I always thought you were going to become a jock." Pietro said thoughtfully before taking a bite of his apple.

"First of all how dare you and secondly what the hell gave you that idea?" You exclaimed. Wanda was giggling besides you while Carol gave you a look of faux offence.

"That's the highest compliment!" She argued.

"I second that." Natasha nodded.

"Do you remember Wanda's 14th birthday party?" Pietro asked.

"It's a treasured memory." You grinned at Wanda. "I kicked your ass at bowling." You recalled proudly.

"You kicked everyone's ass at it. Bowling's a sport isn't it?" Apparently word had spread about Carol's private lessons. You and the blonde had spent weeks going back and forth between different sports. Overall, you were still pretty crap but you had been lifted to a passing grade in the class. You kept meaning to tell Carol that, but you didn't want the lessons to end. You concluded that as long as she didn't ask, you wouldn't tell.

"I'd say so." Wanda shrugged but Carol and Natasha clearly had different opinions.

"Fuck no!"

"Please do not align that with us!" They erupted. You and Wanda started to laugh at their outraged expression, never knowing something to piss a jock off more.

The sound of the bell overhead was followed by a few groans from those around the table as you all packed up and left the table. At least it was a Friday. You wandered across the field on your usual route of going round the main buildings to avoid the crowded corridors, lost in your thoughts until someone jogged up besides you.

"Bowling, huh?" She inquired as she slowed down to a walk.

"It's been years." You said offhandedly.

"You got plans tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"We should go bowling, if you want to. Obviously just as part of your lessons." Carol offered as she looked ahead.

"I thought you said it isn't a sport." You eyed the blonde suspiciously with a smile.

"It isn't, but this I have to see."

"Okay." You nodded without much thought. Bowling with the jock did sound fun.

"I'll pick you up at 2."

"These shoes are ridiculous." Carol grumbled.

"American football shoulder pads are ridiculous but you don't hear me calling that out." You fired back.

"Oh, so that was meant at someone else?"

"Sure." You shrugged as you smiled at Carol's brightly coloured shoes. You went onto your lane and gleamed at the nostalgic sound of pins being knocked over and the bright spot lights across the lanes.

Carol put your names into the scoreboard tablet as you ran your hands over the bowling balls and frowned slightly as you realized you still had to use one of the smaller ones.

"Experts first." Carol motioned to the beginning of the lane with a small smirk and you smiled back at her excitedly and grabbed a ball.

"Just remember it's been a while!" You called back to the eagerly watching blonde. She hummed back. You brought the ball up to your chest to have a feel of the weight and glared at the pins, there had to be something you could impress Carol with. With a deep breath, you swung your arm back and forward to let the ball go, center down the lane and colliding with the painted targets. All but one knocked over and you couldn't help but throw tour hands up in the air in triumph.

"That was pretty good!" You declared as you turned back to Carol happily. She beamed back at you, giving you a smile that made her eyes squint and look absolutely adorable.

You grabbed the second ball and rolled it smoothly across the polished floor, successfully hitting the last pin. Carol strolled up after you, her hands hovering over the range in front of her and landing on one for someone with a bigger hand. You scoffed quietly, not believing the jock could hold it but she picked it up with ease.

You stood, wide eyed, watched as she sauntered over to the lane and swung her arm. The ball veered off to the side and took down a couple of pins that Carol glared at.

"Unlucky is all." She grumbled as she went to get another ball. This time when she threw it it fell into the dip along the side, it was hard to hide your amusement.

"That's just bullshit." Carol grumbled.

"Do you want me to put the sides up for you, Danvers? Or maybe I could ask someone for that ramp." You teased. She flipped you off and went to sit on the small sofa and watched you carefully.

You knocked most of the pins over on your next few goes while Carol got very little. You tried to give her a few tips but apparently her ego was too big to accept them, which meant you were winning marginally.

You spun around to face the blonde after knocking the last of your pins over but she wasn't on her spot on the sofa. You were about to get your phone out to text her but you spotted her sauntering back towards your area with a bowl of nachos. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Carol gave a dramatic huff as she spotted the scoreboard and beckoned you over to the small table by the sofas. "We'll start a new round after these." She said as she put them on the table. "I didn't poison them." She quipped when you didn't move.

"Sometimes I think you'd do anything to win." You replied as you sat down opposite her and took one of the nachos. In all honesty you weren't expecting Carol to get the snack, never mind to want to share it.

Carol flexed her right hand absent mindedly as she glanced around at over areas of the alley. "Your hand hurting?" You asked as you took another nacho with a lot of cheese on it.

"A little." She shrugged and lifted it up to look at the back of her mind. Without thinking, you put your hand and pressed it gently flat against hers. Not only were her fingers longer than yours but her palm was bigger too, even her wrist was thicker. It was only when you caught Carol's eye that you went to bring your hand away but she laced her fingers through yours and put them down on the table.

"Sorry, I was just curious." You blushed even though it was clear Carol didn't mind.

"Okay." She chuckled as she continued on the nachos. You finished the rest of the snack in silence with your hands still together until you leaned back and glanced at the lane again.

"Ready to have your ass kicked again?" You quipped.

"Don't get cocky, kid." Carol mused as she rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Since when did you know Star Wars?" You asked in complete disbelief.

"I love Star Wars." Carol said casually. "And since always."

"I didn't take you for the type." You smiled as you tried to study the jock for any signs of a lie.

"That's just because you never asked." She shrugged and stood up, letting your hands slide apart. You missed the contact instantly but that didn't distract you enough from her words.

Of course you had never asked her something like that, Star Wars was the last thing you'd guess she would like. You knew there was always more to people than what they showered publicly, but Carol had always seemed like such an open book in every way. So hearing that she wasn't quite what you thought she was, even after the few months of knowing her better, simply made you impossibly more interested in the blonde. You stared at Carol in nothing short of awe, she was really something else.

"I've had enough of these shoes." She declared.

"You quitting on me Danvers?" You quipped but really your heart dropped at the thought she wanted to cut your outing short.

"I'm just thinking we could try our hand at a few other things, seeing as we're not doing sport anymore." She said as she nodded towards the arcade.

Your eyes lit up at all the games in the entrance as you found your competitiveness returning. You both returned your shoes and practically ran over to the arcade area with all its choices. You decided to head towards the air hockey first as you argued over whether or not it was a sport. Carol, of course, took the opposition.

Your reflexes weren't as good as hers but you liked to think you put up a good fight, even if you did curse under your breath every time the blonde scored. The screen above you both lit up to declare Carol's victory that she was very happy to celebrate, you watched as she danced around the table towards you in what could have been the dorkiest thing you had ever seen.

"You having fun there?" You laughed.

"So much fun." Carol grinned back and eyed her next target.

"Absolutely not!" You cried out when her eyes landed on the basketball. You took her by the hand and tried your best to ignore the electricity running up your arms at how perfectly her hand fit in yours and led her through the arcade. You came to a halt by a racing game and before you could even suggest the idea to Carol she was clambering into the seat and shoving the coins into the machine. You sat down next to her and did the same. You were both terrible. The controls were slightly broken and far too sensitive, making the cars on screen spin around when you tried to turn and never going straight.

"Piece of garbage!" Carol shouted at the screen as you passed the finish line by some miracle.

"Wanna go again?" You asked with a grin but the blonde was already jumping off the seat.

"Now this I have to win." Carol declared as she spotted the nearest shooting game. It was some kind of zombies in space crossover but you didn't much question that when you picked up the plastic gun.

"We work together on this, Danvers." You laughed.

"Count yourself lucky then." Carol said as she aimed her gun at the screen as the game started.

"The fact that you didn't know how it works doesn't make me all that confident in you." You pointed out as you started firing at the horde of zombies. You didn't see one that was charging at you from the left but Carol shot it down before it reached you.

"You're welcome." She smirked then shot some more on your right. "Come on, y/n I'm doing all the work here."

"Fuck yourself, Danvers." You fired back as you tried to reload your gun.

"Fuck me yourself you coward." She challenged. Your mouth went dry but you started to laugh. She didn't make the comment with her usual smirk and suggestive tone, instead it seemed like a genuine joke that you didn't get anxious about.

"That would be a first." You quipped with a smile. You managed to take the last few zombies.

"It really would be, I am a virgin after all." She said casually and you dropped your gun. "Oh shit, here we go!" Carol laughed as the zombie boss made its dramatic entrance.

"Wait what?" You stammered as you looked between Carol and the screen while trying to get a grip on the plastic gun.

"What? No one's ever fucked me. I fuck girls, they don't fuck me back." She shrugged simply and started rapid firing at the boss.

"Maybe you should stop being exclusive to pillow princesses." You joked in a feeble attempt to mask your surprise.

"Maybe, it's not just that." She started. It confused you that she could say something so out of character while keeping most of her attention on the screen. "I don't trust any of them. I don't know, it's just, when it comes down to it, I freak out." Carol tried to explain but seemed to struggle.

"Damn." She sighed when the screen presented 'Game Over' in an overtly bloody text. You wandered away from the booth as you thought about what Carol said. She had a content smile on her face as she looked around and you figured the conversation was over.

"I love these." You told the blonde when you came across a Wac A Mole machine. You put the coins in and lifted up the rubber mallet as you kept your eyes on the board. The first one sprung up in front of you and Carol announced its presence with a cry.

"Thank you, Danvers." You smiled after hitting the figure.

"There!" She pointed to the next one, and the next one until you shouldered her out the way, not expecting her to actual wander off. When the game was over you grinned in triumph and looked to Carol for her praise but she wasn't near by. With a frown, you ventured around the arcade and found the jock hunched over a claw machine.

"These things eat you money, you know?" You half joked but to your surprise Carol dropped a small teddy bear into the box.

"And how long did that take you?" You teased as she picked it up.

"Its for you." You ran your thumb over the left paw that had a heart over it and smiled back at the jock who kept surprising you.

"Thank you, Carol." She nodded and the pair of you started to walk out the arcade and main building. Much to your surprise it was starting to get dark and there were few cars in the car park. You guessed the place would be closing soon but you hadn't realized you had been there so long. Time always seemed to fly by with Carol.

"How long were we even..." You started to laugh lightly until you turned to Carol and realized how close together you were. Your breath hitched when your eyes locked with her own that seemed to be looking back at you with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Can I kiss you?" You whispered gently. You licked your lips and nodded slowly.

Her other hand rested on your cheek as her thumb caressed the smooth skin slightly and finally closed the distance entirely.

You had kissed Carol before, but never like that. It was slow and longing and gentle and you reciprocated in an instant, matching the rhythm she set. You brought you hands up to Carol's neck and cherished the moment of feeling connected to her in the way you had been craving before you pulled apart.

"It's only our second date, Danvers." You couldn't help but quip, not knowing what to say in such an unfamiliar scenario.

"Well this second date has taken a lot of work to get." Carol pointed out and you laughed as you continued to hold her close.

"I was scared." You admitted.

"You don't have to be scared with me." Carol assured gently.

"You mean it? You really..."

"I really love you." She confirmed.

"That's lucky for me, because I love you too." You smiled and brought Carol in for another kiss that she happily encouraged.

"So... more dates?" Carol asked with a laugh, clearly not all that familiar with the procedure either. You would work it out quickly.

"Yeah Carol." You chuckled.

"That I still have to work hard for?" She half joked.

"Not if we're girlfriends." The blonde laughed more at that.

"I'm glad to hear I've upgraded from just your favourite jock.

"You're always going to be my favourite jock too." You assured and kissed Carol once more.

Carol kissed a path down your stomach and smiled against your skin as she felt you shiver. Even after weeks of dating you still weren't used to her kisses, especially not across your more sensitive areas of skin.

"I got you." She whispered as she hooked her fingers over your pajama bottoms and panties and pulled them down together, kissing the newly found skin. You shivered more as her breath ghosted over your clit making you whine and buck your hips up. Carol smiled at your reaction and leaned down not before whispering "God, you're beautiful.

She wrapped her full lips around your clit and reveled in the moan that spilled from your lips. Her tongue dipped between your folds and she moaned at the sweet taste that invaded her taste buds.

You wrapped your hands in Carol's long blonde hair to bring her closer but she pulled away with a smirk. Before you could whine in protest she pulled her own trousers down to reveal a strap you hadn't seen before. It was different in shape and colour but the most noticeable different was the absence of the harness. You moaned softly at the realization it was anchored inside her.

"I want to feel it with you." Carol said as she lowered herself back towards you and placed her hands either side of your head and kissed your neck.

"Are you sure?" You asked tentatively. It would be the first time Carol had been on the receiving end to such a level. The most you had done was go down on her a few times.

"Yes, I trust you. I love you." She grinned and lined the strap up with your entrance.

"I love you too." You had really started to enjoy saying that to her.

You moaned breathlessly as Carol inched the strap into you carefully and kissed along your jaw more. She moaned with you when she bottomed out and felt the strap dig deeper into her. Her hips twitched as she took a moment to gather her own composure and held your hands above your head, your fingers intertwined.

"I got you." You assured back to her as she started to pull out and push back in. Carol moaned loudly in response and held you closer to her as she started to build up a rhythm, your thigh slapping together.

You moaned in sync as the strap pleasured you both more and more. You wrapped your legs tightly around your girlfriend's waist to push the strap deeper inside you both.

You shuddered every time Carol's skin met yours. Carol started thrusting the toy faster and harder as she chased her own release.

"It's so good!" You cried out. You both struggled to form words, only managing breathless moans as the strap pressed firmly against your g-spots in sync.

"Me too, fuck, please Carol. Cum with me." You pleaded and gave a strangled moan. Carol shuddered and moaned louder than you had ever heard as she came undone at the same time as you.

"Y/n." Your girlfriend shuddered and started to grind her hips against yours as she rode out her high with you.

"It's okay, I got you." You said as you held onto Carol's bare back. You held her close to you as she breathed heavily against your neck, the irregular patterns starting to even out. She was still shaking so you planted soft kissed across the patches of her face that weren't hidden in your neck as you stroked her hair, a content smile on your lips.

She adjusted herself slightly and the pair of you moaned softly when she eased the toy out and put it on the floor. "I'll clean it later." She whispered, eyes closed, before you could say anything.

"Okay." You chuckled and brought her closer to you. You wrapped your arms around one another as your legs tangled together under the sheets.

Carol's soft breath caressed your skin as you stroked her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. A faint smile played across her lips at the action, confirming that she was just as happy as you were.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @horcruxhunter90 @wndrcarol

Join a taglist

#carol danvers #captain marvel #brie larson #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagines #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers x reader #marvel #jock!carol

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belpheroo · 4 years

Text

home again home again

Pairing: Mammon x MC Rating: T Summary: A follow-up to the last day. MC Adjusts to life back in the human realm, but Devildom just can’t stay away.

As Lucifer had promised, when she returned home, no time had passed. It was as if that year, that time she spent in Devildom, belonged wholly to a time and a place outside of the realm of her human reality.

He had warned her some memories might soften, fading around the edges until she would start to question whether they had happened… but given her celestial heritage, perhaps she would have a different experience. She was no magic user like Solomon, but Lilith’s blood was magic in itself and that blood was in her veins, no matter how small.

She left her bags packed on her floor, venturing out her bedroom door and into the hallway. It was twilight, just like when she left, warm amber sunlight shining just barely over the edges of the window frames.

A clock ticked. Her cat mrrowed curiously from their sleeping spot. Her college texts laid on the small kitchen table, notebooks and pens scattered where she had left them.

Quietly, deliberately, she moved through her small kitchenette, putting on her electric kettle and taking down a familiar mug and a familiar bag of tea. She ripped open the package, set the bag in the mug and waited.

And waited.

And waited for it to feel real.

---

A week went by and then another. Her morning classes came and went. She found herself falling behind her friends, not even listening to their chatter as she focused out on the people passing by on their street and across it.

“Who are you looking for?”

One of them had asked, smiling and cheeky.

“You have a date?”

There was no shock of white among the crowd, no familiar voice.

“... no, I’m just… people watching.”

By the time she got home and set down to study she noted all the doodles in her margins were of tiny lesser demons, with their top-hats and little horns.

She sighed, dropping her pencil in defeat and picking up her phone to check Devilgram. In front of her eyes, the screen displayed one sentence in a grey box:

Out of Service Zone

Mammon had said it would work, that it would still connect… but it seemed he was wrong. Instead, she navigated to her saved chats, flicking through lines of conversations and messages going back the course of the year. It was easy to get lost, to read and to laugh and think of those past conversations and of her boys, somewhere in a realm between worlds.

She knew it wasn’t a good idea to get too caught up, not when there was work still to be done. With a heart, no less heavy, she moved to set the device face down on her desk when she noted the screen had illuminated, the pale blue-green color showing against the table surface.

She held her breath as she turned it over.

Signal Found Reestablishing Connection…

…

Connection Reestablished

The access was slow, nothing had changed on the screen, no new notifications or chats. She waited, eager to see the little pink birds that would soon dot her screen. She wondered how they all had been doing, whether they missed her and how things were.

She had expected a few notifications, maybe even none. It had only been a week now. Instead, she opened the message center to a proverbial flood of little bird notifications. It was enough to make her laugh, the joy in her chest bursting forward as she opened the main chat group “House of Lamentation”. There were all the same questions she had for them- how are you? What have you been doing? Do you miss us?

Before responding though, her eyes caught to one of those messages with a little gold eye icon. The messages she was not supposed to be included on but for whatever reason her settings gave her access. She hadn’t seen this title before… the chat subject line simply her name followed by Absence Support Group

She clicked it.

Asmodeus: As discussed! This chat is for the support of all of us who miss our dearly departed exchange student.

Asmodeus: This is a judgement free zone <3

Satan: When you say it like that it sounds like she’s dead… couldn’t we all just text her when we miss her?

Asmodeus: Judgement. Free. Zone. ~<3

Levi: Unless your name is Stupid Mammon.

Mammon: HEY

Mammon: NO

Levi: sTuPiD mAmMoN

Belphie: Great. Another chat for me to mute. Zzz

Beel: Has anyone else texted her? I texted her. It isn’t open.

Asmodeus: Hmm? Yes, she hasn’t opened my pics either.

Mammon: PICS?

Asmodeus: Oh yes <3

Mammon: THE HELL KINDA PICS YOU SENDIN’ MY GIRL, ASSMO?

Asmodeus: Judgement Free Zone <3 <3 <3

Mammon has been muted for One minute.

Levi: You have GOT to show me how to do that!!!

Beel: I text her when I am thinking of her.

Beel: Yesterday, I got up for a snack. I stopped at her room and knocked to see if she wanted any.

Beel: I had forgotten.

Mammon’s muted minute had been up even, judging by the time stamps, but there was still a prolonged pause before someone else responded.

Satan: I remembered I lent her a book. The Corpus Hermetica. She left it in my room sometime before she left… her bookmark was still in it.

Beel: Are you using it?

Satan: I-- yes.

Belphie: I took a nap in her old bed the other day. The sheets don’t smell like her anymore.

Levi: … I’ve been playing her really crappy low leveled character in Memoirs of the Samurai-Ninja, Warriors of Dynasty 6. So she doesn’t get even MORE behind in events.

Mammon: Oi, back up. Belphie, you did WHAT now?!

Mammon has been muted for Two minutes.

Asmodeus: No judgment zone!!

And it went on like that. Day after day. One of them would post a thought or a feeling or a moment that struck them, that reminded them of her. It shocked her a bit when the dots of something typing began to appear, then disappear, then appear and… then disappear. And this carried on for a long time before finally a new message appeared.

Mammon: So. I’m totally NOT super completely upset but the other day I was doing some a m a z i n g modeling work and the camera lady asked me where my “human friend” was.

Mammon: Threw even me, THE Mammon, off his game.

Asmodeus: Because they called her your “friend” instead of your “girlfriend”? <3

Mammon: No!

Mammon: But she is. 😈

Belphie: What if she gets a human boyfriend?

Mammon: EH?! No way! No human boy can compare to ME.

Satan: Well, you are here. She is there. Do you really expect her to wait for you?

Mammon: …

Belphie: Maybe she’d wait for one of us. But Mammon?

Mammon: H-hey! What happened to the judgment free zone?!

Satan: Would explain why she hasn’t called.

Belphie: Or texted.

Mammon: …

She felt her heart sink. She didn’t have a human boyfriend! She’d just had absolutely no SIGNAL since she had gotten back to the human realm! Panicking, she hurried to the phone section of the D.D.D and pulled Mammon’s contact up.

Hurriedly she pressed the dial, listening to the faint tone as it rang.

And rang.

The connection was in and out again, sometimes the ring distorted with feedback. The call dropped and quickly she re-dialed again.

“C’mon… c’mon! Mammon! Pick up!”

Click.

The ringing stopped. The timer flickered on. Call Ongoing 00:03.

“Mammon?! Are you there? Can you hear me?”

There was a voice, but it was choppy and undecipherable.

“My D.D.D. isn’t working right! I can’t understand you, but if you can understand me I-- I wanted to call and say-- um. I wanted to say--!”

The line was quiet.

“I miss you all so much! S-so… please convince Lucifer to let me visit! Or come visit me!”

The phone made a sound, a strangled static burst. The battery flickered even though it had been nearly full just moments ago.

“The connection is draining my stupid phone! Ugh, I’m sorry! Tell everyone I said hello and I miss them!” she paused, words stuck on her tongue as she tried to get them out, “And Mammon… I miss you most! And I love--”

The phone made a ding sound as the battery finally and truly died. She dove to her bag, digging out the charger and desperately trying to plug it in. The first time in weeks she managed to get a call in and the human realm to Devildom signal was that bad?!

“Stupid phone. Stupid stupid stupid…”

There was a faint smell, like sulphur or burning wood. She made a face, looking over the device for any sign of damage and finding none at all. That was odd… but still she could smell an ever growing scent like something had caught fire.

Standing up, she turned half towards the hall and abruptly dropped her phone in sheer shock, the device clattering loudly.

Mammon was breathing heavily, steam coming off his body in waves. He was in his devil-form, all horns and wings.

“Wh...what… was that… last bit?” he panted, leaning against the hallway wall, “I didn’t… hear all of it!”

“You came all the way here just to finish a phone call?” she said teasingly, knowing full well what it was he really came for.

“Please! A… transport like that… is ah- nothing! To the Great Mammon!” he was still out of breath, but catching it quickly, “Now. What did you say?”

There was nothing suave in his question, nothing concealed or charming. There was something more desperate in his eyes, something needy. Her lips curled into a fond smile as she found the words came so much easier the second time.

“Mammon, I love you.”

“... of course ya do.” Mammon said, crossing the space between her both until she was snuggly in his arms. He was warm, warmer than usual after his trip, but that smell would HAVE to go.

“You need a bath.”

“Tch… then give me one.” he grumbled in reply.

Who would possibly say no?

#obey me mammon #obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #mammon x mc #obey me fanfic

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neon-vocalist · 2 years

Text

day 3: lazy day: damiaaron ft cadnis

Originally written November 10, 2021

It's one of those rare days that Aaron doesn't wake up at the crack of dawn, and Damian plans to seize that opportunity and milk it for all it's worth. He has grand plans, which include making himself bacon and also rudely awakening his boyfriend with Janis' trumpet and probably also Cady's violin thing if he can figure out how to do both at the same time.

While some gay couples- Cady and Janis, maybe- may get up early before their partner to do something sweet, make breakfast or leave doodles on sticky notes or something, that's not how Damian and Aaron roll. Damian rolls his eyes thinking of it, because that's exactly something Cady would do for Janis. They're too cute for existence. They've discovered some cheat code or hidden hack to just be the most adorable couple ever, gay or not, and it nearly drives him crazy.

He did call it. In the very beginning of their relationship, he'd said it. "These two are going to be the most saccharine sweet couple we've ever seen." Aaron had snuggled into him after he sighed and flopped down on the bed, assuring him that they'd be cuter, but alas. Damian's pranky streak will never end. He can live vicariously through his best friends.

Since Janis gets up crazy early to do her painting for an upcoming contest, Damian knows she'll be awake. He grabs his keys and calls her while in the car.

"Yo."

"Hey, Jan, I'm coming over."

Her face instantly goes from slightly amused to confusedly terrified. "What's wrong, Dame?"

"Nothing's wrong," Damian rushes to explain. "Really. I just need your trumpet."

"My trumpet?" Janis' nose scrunches up in confusion, and it reminds Damian of what he found so attractive about her when they dated. She was so cute- her voice, her face, her body language, all so expressive. All so easy to read and so simple to get along with. Everything about her was adorable- still is.

"Y'know, Jan," Damian starts absently. "Actually, never mind." He dismisses the sentence almost as soon as it comes to him. "Also Cady's violin."

"Viola."

"Whatever. I need her thing." Janis sighs.

"Why?"

"Wanna wake up Aaron."

"With... my trumpet and Caddie's viola?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how to play them?"

"No. But that's the point? Now listen, I'm almost there, your key's still inside the fake plastic dog poop?" Damian makes a quick left and Janis falls off the dashboard. "Oops."

"Nice floor," says Janis dryly. "Yes, it's still inside the fake plastic dog poop. What happened to the key I gave you?"

Damian blushes. "I-"

"You lost it, didn't you?"

"I lost it."

"Damie," Janis whines, rolling her eyes. "Can I get off your floor?"

"Yeah." Damian leans quickly down to grab the phone, and that's when disaster strikes.

Just kidding. All that happens is that the phone gets further jammed between the seat and the floor. "Still there, Jan?" asks Damian. Janis delivers another heavy sigh.

"Yeah. You got me stuck under the chair again, didn't you?" Damian sighs back in reply.

"Maybe."

Janis groans. "Damian."

"I'm sorry! Oh, I'm here, Jan. See you in a second." Janis hangs up with an affectionate chuckle, rolling her eyes and swirling a paint brush in some water. According to Damian, the judges of the contest are sick of her submitting paintings of Cady. So she's painting her family, both biological and chosen: sister Jett, cousin Veronica, cousin-by-proxy Lydia, Cady, Damian, Aaron, the Plastics, painting them as beings of light, chasing and swatting at the shadows circling the silhouette of herself in the center of the painting. There are a lot of dark colors. Lots of shadows. But Cady with her orangish-pink shimmer, Jett with her violet blue, all of her fighters are helping overtake them. The piece is gonna take a bit of explaining. Probably more than one description card. Oh, well.

A few minutes later, Damian enters the house, more than slightly frustrated. "Janis, your key is crappy," he announces, slamming it down on the entry table.

"Shh!" Janis hisses sharply. "Cads's still asleep. Maybe you'd have a better key if you didn't lose yours. My trumpet is right here." She shoves a case into his hands, manipulating the handle into one of his fists before passing him Cady's viola. "I had to smuggle this out from our closet, and the closet has a really creaky door, so you better make my suffering worth it and at least record the arousal of Aaron." Damian quirks an eyebrow at her and she sighs, exasperated. "You knew what I meant. No one in their right mind would be sexually attracted to whatever ungodly sound you're gonna make come out of those instruments."

Damian grins sarcastically and turns to go out the door. "Alright, thanks for the vote of confidence, Jan. I'll tell you how it goes."

By the time Damian figures out how to play the trumpet and the viola both at once, it's almost 7 in the morning, and Aaron's still out like a light. It makes Damian feel a little less guilty about waking him up, not that he was very guilty in the first place, but still. He's ended up having to hold the viola awkwardly between his legs and sort of pluck it with one hand while holding the trumpet with the other. It's a good thing he's not actually trying to play anything coherent.

"Rise and shine!" he yells before blowing into the trumpet and plucking wildly at the viola. It's absolute chaos, and very loud. If Aaron sleeps through this, he can sleep through anything.

"Damie, what is that?" asks Aaron sleepily. Damian just grins and continues playing. Aaron gives a breathy giggle and sits up in bed. "No, really, what are you doing?"

Damian smiles, satisfied, and puts down the instruments. "Waking you up," he replies sweetly, coming over to Aaron and giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Good morning."

Aaron groans and throws a pillow at Damian. "I hate you."

"Love you too."

"Where'd you even get those?"

"Janis and Cads."

"Oh." He sits blinking for a few minutes before turning back to Damian. "Were they in on it too?"

"Nah, just my accomplices. Where else would I be able to get the screechiest instruments on earth?"

"True," Aaron nods. "Okay, well, now that you've loudly awoken me, wanna make me some breakfast?"

"No."

"Wrong answer."

Instead of giving in to Aaron's breakfast ideals, Damian smacks himself in the forehead. "Darn it! I forgot to record for Janis! I'm in for it now."

"Oh, you weren't recording?" asks Aaron.

"No."

"In that case..." Aaron leaps off the bed and tackles Damian to the ground. "You're gonna pay for that!"

#damiaaron #mlm #art freaks #janis sarkisian #cady heron #damian hubbard #aaron samuels #mean girls #mean girls the musical #fanfic #fanfiction #day 3 #xmas #christmas #seven.content #system scribbles #wheee

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mochikeiji · 4 years

Text

Sketch the Moment // Yamaguchi x Reader

Genre: Very Fluffy, small angst

Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x you

Artist AU

"What's wrong, (Y/n)?" Yamaguchi stops eating his yogurt, "I'm having an art block.." muttering as you shaded yet another work of disappointment, "H-hey, stop! Let me see." He sat closer to your side at the gym, gently grabbing your sketchpad out of your hands, eyes scanning the shaded, but readable drawing. "A-are you kidding me? This turned out awesome!" he praises, bewildered at your blessed hands and mind. "(Y/n), this is really amazing, I'm telling you. Keep going." still in awestruck at your other random doodles scattered on the pages, you on the other hand was bright red at his unexpected out burst, even the boys stopped for a second the moment they heard Yamaguchi yell out.

"Yamaguchi seems lively again." Sugawara chuckles as he watches the two of you chat together, "We should bring her to our games sometimes. Who knows, maybe he'll give a nice serve." Tanaka teases before throwing the ball into the air, and spiking it down. Ukai seems to agree on the idea of having you around, Yamaguchi's aura changes from being a nervous dork to a ball of sunshine.

"T-thank you, Yamaguchi.." You looked down at your hands to prevent yourself from going redder than a tomato. Yamaguchi didn't seem to hear you, and just continued to flip around the pages. He had been wanting to see your works for a very long time, but he was just shy you'd get upset if he says he wanted badly to admire your works. "Hey I've seen this one!" he points at a male costumed in a frog, "You posted this on your blog, right?" You looked at him in shock, "You, you know about that?" You fiddled with your fingers shyly, "Of course I do! I always follow any of your accounts that consist your works." he confesses, unaware of how flustered and giddy he was making you feel.

Just thinking about his reaction to your crappy works makes you over think, "Oh God, some of the lightings weren't even good.", "Some of the colors don't match the combinations of the entire drawing." oh crap, "SOME OF THEM WERE SEXUAL." You panicked silently, as Yamaguchi seems to stop flipping pages when he stumbled upon one drawing. A drawing of him. His breath hitched, fingers tracing the well colored and drawn art. It was a drawing of him in a sunflower field, smiling. Wait, didn't he took you there one time when you were looking for inspiration? Gulping down the multiple feelings, cheeks forming a soft blush, he slowly flips onto another page, this time it was a chibi version of him in a frog costume with an umbrella, hearts surrounding it. He places his hand over his mouth as one thought came into his mind about you: "so cute"

Calming his pounding heart, his fingers flipped onto more pages. Drawings of him with flower crowns, an oversize hoodie and more. There were drawings of him! No wonder why you didn't want him to see. His lips were in a goofy position, be wasn't able to express himself because if he ever did, he felt like puking or exploding of happiness. No one really thought of him as cool yet here you were, having multiple drawings of him as if he was the reason why you became motivated. He wasn't wrong at that part. "Yamaguchi." Tsukishima calls him, jolting he quickly shuts the sketchbook, surprising you as well, "Y-yeah!" he yelled, body stiff as a board. Tsukishima raises a brow, before understanding the situation and hides a small smirk, "Give us a nice serve, will you?" he held back a chuckle at his tomato looking friend before heading back to his position. Yamaguchi sighs, but quickly began sweating when he felt your eyes on him, "U-uh sorry (Y/n)! I'll walk you home, okay? H-here." quickly pushing the book on your chest, and running off to the other side of the court so you wouldn't catch his exploding face. You wondered if he seemed upset by some of your works since he didn't say anything, and stayed quiet, not knowing it was the complete opposite of that. Instead you sat there all sad, and clouded with thoughts.

Practice seemed to run by fast when you're deep in thought. Tsukishima notices how you weren't watching Yamaguchi anymore, it was an obvious routine you'd do when he was at practice, and usually while doing so you'd be down scribbling like a mad man as if you wanted to capture every moment. "Hey." He calls out to the freckled male, "Yeah, Tsukki?" placing the ball on the basket, "I'm heading out first, go take (Y/n) out will you? I think you broke her a bit." Yamaguchi felt a rush of panic in his chest when Tsukishima gestures your sad features, "Just buy her ice cream. Dork always cheers up." he pats his shoulder before grabbing his things. Yamaguchi's mind began to pounder on what on earth had he done to upset such a precious bean like you? He felt like torturing himself if he ever knew you cried because of him. Oh no, he can't even bear that thought. Quickly finishing up in cleaning the gym, he finally grabs all of his belongings, and rushes towards you, "H-hey, (Y/n)." You raised your head at his direction, he almost stutters out his words, "Um, let's go get some ice cream. My treat!" he offers, you were going to tell him that you'd rather be at home, but since it's almost like a night out with your all time crush, why the heck not?

Walking to Ukai's store was awkward and silent, when the two of you arrived, he asked if you could wait out, and he'd go in and buy, "Wait, I should be paying too." You said, feeling guilty, but mostly avoiding the soft butterflies in your stomach fluttering, "N-no! Really, please." placing his hand on yours, "Let me treat you." As if cupid had struck your heart, you felt a sharp beat in your heart seeing him smile softly before heading inside. Looking over your hand, the one he had held, you bit back a smile. "Ah, I wish I can remember this!" heart rapidly beating, "i want to draw this moment!"

"Shouldn't you be at home by now?" Yamaguchi laughs nervously before paying for the ice creams he had picked out, "Sorry coach, I promised to treat (Y/n)." he hands in the money, "Hmm, sure know how to treat a lady, don't you?" Ukai smirks as Yamaguchi's cheeks darkened, "Wouldn't mind having her around as long as you play like earlier." it was true. If you hadn't been mopping, you'd see the difference in Yamaguchi's play. His pinch serves were getting better, and he wasn't even stopping until he was told. He played like he was another version of Hinata, scary to imagine if he can muster up his dead eyes. "T-thank you!" he bows before running out, leaving Ukai in a chuckling matter at his dorky state.

"H-here." he offers, "I still remember your favorite. Luckily it was available." grabbing the delicious treat from his hands and opening the wrapper, your eyes twinkled brightly, almost drooling at the treat. Yamaguchi just stared fondly, grasping how undeniably adorable you are at this moment. Throwing both your wrappers at the bin, the both of you strolled the night streets slowly, savoring both the flavor of the ice cream and secretly the moment that was just the two of you. Yamaguchi felt the need to ask you why you look so down a while ago, he wasn't the type of guy to leave someone down the dumps. Guy can't even leave Tsukki if he calls himself lame. Mustering up the courage to face you, he speaks out your name, "(Y/n)." your eyes glanced at him, mouth sucking and licking on the ice cream. "I have a question." looking down at his shoes, "Tsukki noticed you were upset a while ago after I left you." You pulled away from your treat, and listened, "I wanted to say—" forgetting his own ice cream, he bows in front of you unexpectedly, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry if I upset you, but please don't be sad!" he raises his head, "I-i can't handle it when you're sad."

You stared at him with wide eyes. Damn, anyone would be lucky to have a guy who won't let you go home crying or upset. "I-its not you, Yamaguchi." patting his shoulder to make him stand straight, finishing the last bit of your treat. "I just thought you were upset of what you saw in my sketchbook." You scratched the back of your head, feeling his eyes watch every moment you do, "You ran away with your face red, I figured, you must've hated something you saw in there." finally confessing the trouble that has had you locked up in your head, you sigh, "I'm really sorry if you think it's you, Yamaguchi. It's just me, really! I over think a lot when I draw something." Yamaguchi never felt more embarrassed in his life. He was caught red faced, but with an entire different reason, "Um actually, (Y/n)." he began, "I ran away because..... I saw your drawings of me. " he admits, now it was your turn to become a bright red tomato. "AH! I'M SORRY, YAMAGUCHI!" You bowed, "You must think it's creepy." chuckling nervously and disappointed. "N-no! No! In fact, it's the other way around." looking at him in confusion, "I actually thought it was cute, coming from you."

Noticing his blush scatter on his face as the moon light adds the effect, your hands twitched to just grab your sketch book and immediately draw. "You know me, I run away if I feel embarrassed." He laughs softly, "But it will never mean I'm upset with you or anything, (Y/n)." feeling bold, he grabs a hold of both of your hands with his. Taking a deep breath before saying the words that would've made your entire world crumble down in cloud nine, "I like you! I really do." he grips your hands, "A-and your works! Everything, I really, really admire them. The one with the froggy me was too adorable with the hearts! A-and the one with the sunflower, its like I remember the moment over and over again. I-in which I would never ever forget!" he rambles, you unable to speak out the words you wanted to say.

"It really hurts me, on how much you get to hate yourself and your own masterpieces when all I see is absolute beauty in all of them." You felt as if you were punched in the gut when he said that. No one warned you he can pull heartstrings! "If I'm somewhat your motivation in arts, you're my motivation in playing." looking at you as if you were the most precious person he has found in the planet, "I don't mind if you keep drawing about me if I get to see and admire them for you." His voice going in a softer tone, the softest that you feel yourself melting, "and if you take my compliments too." wrapping your arms around his neck, no ounce of shyness left in both of you. "I don't mind anything as long as you can admire your works like I admire you, (Y/n)." slowly closing both of your eyes, leaning in for a sweet, soft kiss. Both stomach's filled with a million fluttering butterflies, tickling them. His hands just holding yours in a loving matter.

Pulling away, you sigh, his lips were softer than you expected. "Does that mean?" he questions, you smile at him, "I do." You confirm. Who knew he'd be the first to confess. He smiles, teeth showing, "I'm glad." You stared once more, awestruck as you memorized every inch and detail of his face. He looks back, and teases, "Take a picture it'll last long." Laughing at you, before smiling goofily and giving the back if your hand a small kiss, "But draw this moment, I promise, it's worth forever."

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu yamaguchi #hq yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi headcanons #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tadashi yamaguchi #yamaguchi x you

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coyotesongwriting · 5 years

Text

Moving Day

Avengers - Clint Barton/Reader

Prompt Fill for anon

Prompt: 18. “Are you banned from all Taco Bells or just that Taco Bell?”

Author’s Note: I started this last night and it kind of just went on it’s own direction? Anyways, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Tag List (if you want to be added or removed let me know!): @rorynne @proudhufflepuff77 @rhymesmenagerie @redfoxwritesstuff @darthhayber @alwaysadreamingoptimist @samsgoddess @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @carissime72 @gatorgal94 @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark

You were finally moving out of your old run-down apartment and into a bigger and better place. You were so glad to leave behind the old rat-infested studio apartment to move into a newer apartment nearer the tower, but what excited you the most (other than the lack of rats) was that you were finally getting a separate bedroom!

Tony had offered to hire movers, but your best friend, Clint, had insisted the two of you could do it yourselves. At first, you’d been ready to take Tony up on his offer, but Clint’s constant begging finally got to you. You’d caved, and agreed that he could help you move, wondering what was the worst that could happen. The move had started off alright, and you’d managed to get all the furniture into the new place before disaster struck.

You’d held the elevator while Clint filled it with as many boxes as he could until there was barely room for you both to stand. Halfway up, the power for the entire block went out, leaving you and Clint trapped halfway between floors. You both stood in silence for a minute, sure the power would kick back on. It didn’t.

You shot a glare at Clint, “This is all your fault. I hope you know that.”

“Why? I didn’t do anything!”

“You and I could have been relaxing while movers handled everything. But noooo, god forbid we do that” you sighed.

“Well sorry for wanting to make sure no creepy men were touching your stuff!” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That’s why you wouldn’t let Tony hire movers?!” you stared at him incredulously.

He shifted from one foot to the other, not looking at you as he responded, “I was just trying to look out for you, okay?”

“Oh my god, Clint. What did you think was going to happen?” you were tired, and your fuse was short.

“You’re an Avenger, [Y/N]! What if someone wanted to steal something and sell it? What if they sabotaged your stuff!” his voice dropped low enough you could barely hear as he continued, “What if they messed with your box of, y’know, underwear?”

A slow grin crept across your face as laughter began to bubble out of you. Clint glared at you, huffing at you. After a long minute, you were able to get yourself back and under control and stepped forward, placing your hand on his upper arm. He didn’t say anything, and as you looked at the grumpy look you schooled your grin back into a small smile.

“Clint, I appreciate you looking out for me. I do. But, no one's going through my underwear, okay? And I’m pretty sure that Tony would have picked movers who wouldn’t steal my stuff” your voice was soft now, a sharp contrast from the anger that laced it just a few minutes better.

He uncrossed his arms, sighing, “I just worry about you, I don’t want your stuff being messed with.”

You squeezed his arm gently once before letting your hand drop back to your side, “Clint…? Please tell me you locked the moving truck…”

A look of pure horror quickly spread across his face, and it took everything in you not to laugh at him again. Everything important was with you in the elevator, and it was really only clothes left in the moving van. If they got stolen, well, that just meant it was time for a new wardrobe!

“Shit, fuck, I’m so sorry [Y/N]” he began to stammer, and he began to study the elevator desperately, “I’m gonna get us out of here!”

It didn’t take the two of you long to find the emergency hatch in the elevator roof. Unfortunately, when you tried to open it you found it was stuck shut. It would only open about an inch before it stopped, and no matter what the two of you tried, you couldn’t get it to move.

When you reached for your cell phone, figuring you’d call Tony or Nat for some help, you realized that not only had you left your phone in the apartment, you’d left Clint’s too. The two of you were trapped until either the power came back on or someone came looking for you.

~~~~~~

Two hours later, you and Clint were seated in the small space you’d left. The two of you had packed in so many boxes though that sitting was slightly awkward. You were both seated with your back against opposite walls, your legs intertwined.

You smiled softly at Clint as he doodled on one of the boxes with a pen you’d had in your pocket. You loved times like these (well, not times locked in an elevator, this was a first), but the quiet moments you shared. He was chewing his lip in concentration as he drew, and you loved how serious he looked as he doodled a small hawk on the box.

As he put the finishing touch on the bird, he turned to you, an eyebrow cocking curiously at you, “You okay over there? Don’t be getting cabin fever on me!”

You laughed, leaning your head back against the elevator wall, “You’re buying me Taco Bell after this. You owe me.”

“Does it have to be Taco Bell…?” his voice was guarded.

Slowly you leaned forward, “Don’t tell me you’re a Del Taco person?!”

“No, but why do you want Taco Bell? What about anywhere else?”

“Because you owe me, and we’re going to the Taco Bell on Lexington. They don’t skimp on their tacos” you shrugged, watching him curiously.

He blanched slightly, looking at his drawing again before he spoke, “I can’t actually go there…”

“What? Why not?” you laughed.

“I’m kind of banned for life” he explained.

A mischievous grin lit up your face, “Are you banned from all Taco Bells or just that Taco Bell?”

“Just that one” he sighed, hoping you’d drop it.

You didn’t of course. For the next five minutes, you began to pester him to explain, and he refused to say anything at all. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and when he wouldn’t give in even after you swore not to tell anyone, you decided it was time to bring out the big guns.

The way you two were sitting, legs intertwined, meant that this was going to be a struggle. Carefully you pulled your feet back away from him and got up onto your knees. He watched you warily, the grin on your face worrying him. Before he could pull his legs in, you quickly moved to straddle him, sitting on his thighs.

“[Y/N] what are y-” he started, eyes blown wide, only to be stopped by you reaching out to tickle his sides.

At first, he fought to keep his face emotionless. He tried to shift and throw you off, but there was nowhere for him to go, he was trapped between you, the walls, and the boxes. Just when you were about to give up the ghost, he cracked a smile and began to laugh.

“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll stop!” you were laughing by this point too.

“Fine! Fine!” he caved, and your hands stilled, resting on his sides and you tried not to think about how good he felt.

After taking a moment to catch his breath he began, “Remember Tony’s last Christmas Gala? Well, I may or may not have had a bit too much to drink, so Thor and I decided to ride back together but we managed to convince the driver to stop there. Y’know, Taco Bell is always the antidote to his parties. Thor and I got into an argument about which of us would win in a fight and things may have gotten a little out of hand.”

“You didn’t!” you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your face delightedly, “Are you guys why they shut down for renovations?!”

“We had to pay for them to fix everything, and they banned both of us for life” he paused, “I won though.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Sure you did, Clint.”

“Hey! I did!” he argued, fake glaring at you.

“Whatever you say”

“Are you doubting me?” he scoffed.

Even in the crappy fluorescent elevator light, his eyes drew you in. As soon as your attention wavered, he made his move. He quickly drew his knees in, knocking you off balance and sending you into his chest. In one quick movement, he had you trapped underneath, one hand pinning your arms above your head and the other began to quickly tickle your ribs.

You began to buck, trying to twist and roll out of his grasp but he had you pinned tight. You weren’t getting out of it, and to be honest, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“I yield!” your laugh echoed through the elevator car, “You truly are Earth’s mightiest”

A smirk lit up his face as he released your arms and stopped tickling you. He was still sitting on your thighs, and the moment seemed to drag out as you stared up at him. You caught your lower lip in your teeth as you stared up at him and slowly moved so your hands were resting on his hips. His eyes studied yours for a long moment, before he slowly leaned down over you, his hands on either side of your face.

He paused, hovering over you, and you decided to make the first move. You surged forward, catching his lips in a searing kiss. A low groan escaped his throat as the kiss deepened, your hands moving from his hips to roam under his shirt.

The two of you were too distracted by each other that you didn’t notice when the elevator started moving. The ding of the doors opening caught your attention but the two of you made no move to break apart.

“Told you they were fine” Nat snorted.

Your eyes flew open at Nat’s voice, and you quickly pulled away from the kiss. Your face turned a horrifying shade of red, and you buried your face in Clint’s neck as you looked over to see Nat, Tony, and Steve watching you guys. Well, Nat and Tony were watching. Steve’s face was just as red as yours and he was doing his best not to look at you.

Clint ignored them, his hand reaching out to the elevator control panel and pressing the button for your floor. As the elevator started moving again, he slammed the emergency stop button, trapping you between floors again. Maybe getting stuck in an elevator wasn’t that bad?

#Marvel's The Avengers #marvel the avengers #Avengers #The Avengers #Clint Barton x Reader #Clint Barton #Clint x Reader #Hawkeye #Hawkeye x Reader #Tony Stark #Natasha Romanov #Fanfic

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fancat-not-fangirl · 4 years

Text

It’s Not You Pt.6

a/n: happy mishapocalypse, you guys! I finally finished chapter 6, and it’s a bit longer than the others ones (whoops I got too carried away)

enjoy :)

Dean couldn’t for the life of him understand how the hell this freshman was so damn cute. His hair was so (Dean couldn’t believe he was using the word) voluminous. It bounced at every step, and Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off it. Oh how he wanted to run his hands through it. He could almost feel the silky strands between his fingers. And speaking of eyes, it was like every color blue had been combined, glazed, and inserted into Cas’s cute face. A face that lit up like the sun whenever someone passing by in the halls would say hi to it. A face that looked down and blushed whenever it caught Dean looking at it. A face that was so round and sweet and perfect-

Jesus Christ. Dean realized that he sounded like a schoolgirl with a crush. Exactly like the ones Dean would see on crappy TV shows, ones that would doodle all over their notebooks, drawing little hearts and rainbows all over their crush’s name. Dean suddenly wondered if Cas ever had any crushes. If he ever sat down in math class and doodled the name of his soulmate on the cover of his notebook. Dean mentally shook himself for not asking Sam what the imprint on Cas’s wrist was. Then rethinking it, Dean instead mentally pat himself on the back, because that would have been too obvious. In fact, he was being a bit too obvious now, glancing to his left every few seconds, where he and the incredibly cute freshman would lock eyes and look away, blushing, only to repeat the process a few moments later.

All the while, though, an oblivious Sam was leading them through the halls. Making a left turn here, turning right there, navigating the maze of classrooms and hallways. He’d point to something they’d be passing by and start explaining, or stop them at one classroom or another and launch into a story. But Dean couldn’t concentrate. All he saw were those blue eyes and bouncy hair, along with the extremely adorably flustered looks Cas kept sending him. Sam was (thankfully) blind to the entire affair. He acted like nothing was wrong, and moved to say hello to friends, wave to teachers, and keep up a steady string of words that didn’t make any sense to Dean.

He had now led the group outside, right to the tree Dean noticed on his way into the building not so long ago. His eyes lit up as he attempted to reenact Cas’s daring crusade to save the cat, only earning himself a few laughs from Dean and the surrounding students and an incredibly embarrassed look from Cas. Dean didn’t know how this creature managed to look so flustered and cute at the same time. Again, Dean found himself wondering about the freshman’s soulmate. Had they met? Did Cas know who his soulmate was? And then there was a lingering thought in the back of Dean’s mind that was, was Cas’s soulmate a girl?

Too wrapped up in his thoughts, Dean didn’t even notice when his name was called by Bobby, who had walked out of the school and immediately made a beeline towards the Winchesters, pulling Dean into a rough embrace. The movement shocked Dean out of his schoolgirl thoughts, and he had to remember where he was for a moment. By the time he actually realized that Bobby was talking, he had missed nearly everything the older student had said. With both Sam and Bobby looking at him expectedly, Dean figured that the best thing would be to nod and agree.

Bobby barked out a laugh. “Well I never! Dean ‘You Touch My Car And Die’ Winchester is tired of taking care of his one and only favorite thing in the entire world? I thought I’d never see the day that-”

“I’m sorry what? My car?” The blank eyed stare that Dean gave the others must really have been fucking clueless, because Sam and Bobby immediatly starting cracking up. Still incredibly confused, Dean risked a glance to Cas, who also looked like he had no idea what was going on.

“You sure know how to mess with me, idjit.” Bobby clapped him on the shoulder, preventing any more mooning over Cas. He nodded at the boys and proceeded to shoulder the bag he was carrying, striding past them and towards his pickup truck.

“Dean? Hey Dean?”

“Hmm? You say something?”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. “Bobby said he was going to get lunch and I asked you if you wanted to eat, too.”

“Sure. Yeah. Go eat.” Sam gave him a look. Crap. Sam definitely knows something’s up.

Thankfully the food trucks standing outside the college weren’t far from the front of the school, making the walk there short and not as awkward as it could have been. Dean’s mind was taken off of Cas the moment he saw the dozens of food trucks lined up, and he gaped at the enormous food selection. There was a salad truck (that Dean knew Sam probably almost lived in), a taco truck, a sandwich truck, a sushi truck, and AHA! Immediately starting for the burger truck, Dean then proceeded to visit almost every one, getting himself a bit of everything. He found his way to the table on the lawn that Sam and Cas claimed, and Sam laughed at the immense amount of food being precariously juggled by his brother. Dean doubled back and secured himself a slice of apple pie, half of which was gone by the time he made it to the table again.

Sitting himself down with a content sigh, Dean started attacking his hoard, alternating between the tacos and burgers. Sam was staring at him in horror, probably trying to comprehend how his brother managed to inhale so much food without choking. Cas was still averting his eyes, not that Dean noticed, because he totally wasn’t staring at the freshman even while eating.

“So, Dean.” Dean turned his gaze onto his brother, and before Sam could say anything else, mumbled through a mouthful of food, “How can you still eat that rabbit food, Sammy? I’m surprised you’re not green all over from the amount of grass you consume on a daily basis.”

Sam looked afronted at the thought of his beloved salad being referred to as ‘grass.’ Glaring at Dean, he shot back, “I’m surprised you’re not dead from the amount of fat you consume.” Dean snorted, and picked up his burger, biting into it slowly and closing his eyes in content, trying to get another huff out of Sam. He was successful, and his grin widened when he saw Cas’s smile out of the corner of his eye. Sam started talking again, and Dean made sure to pay attention this time, not wanting to repeat the incident with Bobby.

“So, what I was going to say before you interrupted me was, how’s your job? Is it still as a bartender, or did you get fired?” Sam smirked. “Again.”

Making a face at his brother, Dean replied, “It wasn’t my fault this time-” Sam laughed and raised his eyebrow in skepticism. “It really wasn’t!” Dean insisted. “There was this bar fight between these two guys. They were brawling over who got to kiss this hot chick, and I mean HOT, Sammy. Don’t you give me that look. She was. Honest. So. Being the chivalrous, charming, prince to the rescue guy I am, I may or may not have jumped in to defend her honor, getting myself fired in the process.”

Sam barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes again. Dean noticed that Cas had lowered his gaze and was staring into his plate. He tried not to be dissapointed.

“And now?” Sam prompted.

Dean sighed. “Now I got myself a crappy job as a mechanic at some random repair shop. The pay sucks and the people are fucking rude, but hey, I get by.”

Sam smiled sadly and admitted in a quiet voice, “Can’t you get a job closer to campus?” Oh Dean had thought about it before, he really did, because of how much he missed his younger brother. But he never acted on it, worried that he’d seem too overbearing. Noticing Cas intently listening to the brothers, Dean realized that he might just rethink his choice to work away from Sam.

But it’s not like Dean could have admitted all of that to Sam, instead going for an affectionate insult. “You know, Sam, I do have to take a break from your face once in a while.” The comment made Sam smile, and Dean smiled back. He turned back to his pie and suddenly heard a quiet voice from his left.

“Your eyes are so green.”

Dean froze, pie halfway to his mouth. His eyes snapped to Cas, whose entire face went beet red when he realized that he said it out loud. Not knowing what to say, Dean just stared. He was saved by Sam, who obviously didn’t hear what the freshman said. Sam had looked up and noticed Dean staring, causing him to also turn his head towards his roommate.

“Did you say something, Cas?” Cas blushed even more furiously and cleared his throat, getting up.

“I said I had to go to the bathroom.” He mumbled, and left the table to go back inside. Dean watched him leave and his heart sank. Sam, on the other hand, just shrugged and went back to eating his salad.

Poking at his pie, Dean couldn’t find it in himself to eat. With Cas gone, even for a few minutes, Dean didn’t know where to look. There weren’t any sky blue eyes for him to watch, or bouncy black hair to stare at. No cute little nose, or rosy cheeks, or-

“Dean, I swear, something's bothering you today!” For the hundredth time that day, Dean was jolted from his thoughts and/or daydreams about Cas.

“No. Nothing’s bothering me.” The bitch face Sam gave him put all of his previous bitch faces to shame. “Nothing except for the job at the mechanic’s crap shop. Have I mentioned what a douche my boss is?” Not looking completely convinced, Sam went back to his food.

After a while, Dean decided that he just had to know. Screw Sam and his opinions. So, obviously in the most casual manner possible, Dean cleared his throat and blurted, “Has Cas told you his soulmate’s name?”

Of all the things Dean was expecting, (a suspicious glare, a laugh, no answer at all, maybe), what he certainly wasn’t expecting was a blush. Sam ‘Don’t Call Me Sammy Because I’m A Big Boy’ Winchester blushed like a girl and squirmed in his seat. The mumbled “I don’t know” was said entirely too quickly and quietly, and Dean was about to start pestering him about it, but at that moment, Cas came back. He had with him in tow an even shorter person, but one who was obviously older and related to the (super cute) freshman. Dean saw Sam freeze and lower his fork.

With a flustered grin, Cas gestured to the newcomer and quietly proclaimed, “Hey guys, this is Gabriel. My older brother.” The short dude- Gabriel, Dean reminded himself, stepped forward and reached out a hand to Dean, smiling devilishly.

“Sup, broheim. Do you happen to be Cassy Pie’s roommate, or his roommate's brother that he won’t shut up about?”

Oh?

“Gabe.” Cas hissed. His brother put his hands up in mock surrender. Seeing Dean's face, he winked at Cas and whispered, “Ah, so it’s probably the brother.” Stepping around Dean, he stretched his hand out to Sam next, who was still frozen. “That means that you must be the roommate.”

Sam’s dumbstruck face was the epitome of shock, and Dean tried to keep himself from laughing. His brother slowly reached out and shook Gabriel’s hand. They stayed like that for an uncomfortable while, until suddenly Sam stood up and declared that Gabe hadn’t yet seen the campus, and that he needed a tour. Right now.

Abandoning his salad, Sam flew off with Gabe, leaving Dean alone with Cas.

He was screwed.

#supernatural #destiel #sabriel #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel novak #gabriel novak #college au #soulmate au #destiel fic #it's not you

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queenmorgawse · 5 years

Text

transmigration for dummies

chapter three. mdzs scum villain au. read on ao3 + end notes. credit to @lee-luca, esp as another bit of the comic is mentioned here. previous | first | next

One hour, thirty minutes and two hundred rules into his punishment, Jingyi is as bored as he’s ever been in this life. To top it all off, the System isn’t responding to any of his pleas for company, only responding with oops ): something went wrong when he tries to ping it. Back home, this is about when he would have given up on homework and started scrolling through his Twitter feed instead, but there’s not much he can do without his phone.

Ugh, he’d kill for one of these crappy McDonalds games. Even a Kinder toy would make him happy right now. Instead, he doodles on his torn-up first drafts, on which the ink made blots from his clumsy first attempts to imitate the original text’s elegant calligraphy.

He silently adds bic pens to the ever-increasing list of modern appliances he misses.

When badly-drawn stickmen get boring as well, he starts to think about the original Lan Jingyi in his life. Maybe that’s how it works, after all. Mom sure would love someone who’d actually go to bed early when she tells him to. On the other hand, once he got over the initial shock of modern Jingyi’s life, he’d probably find it pretty dull. High school isn’t about to compare to flying swords and cultivation, that’s for sure.

Opposite him, Sizhui is bent over his own stack of scrolls, poring over rows and rows of tiny characters and absent-mindedly running his fingers along the lines. From the way he hums to himself when he thinks Jingyi is too busy copying to care, he guesses they’re music sheets of some kind. Unlike Jingyi, he looks like he’s actually engrossed in what he’s doing.

Too bad. Jingyi’s reached that point of boredom at which he needs to talk to someone or else he’ll implode. ( Still, he promises himself he’ll stop if Sizhui shows even a hint of genuine annoyance. )

“Hey, Lan Sizhui ⎯ can I call you just Sizhui? Um, sorry I got you stuck here.”

To his relief, the other doesn’t look irritated, just surprised. “Sizhui is fine,” he ventures after a few seconds. A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good. I was afraid you were still mad me, you’ve been so awkward all day...”

Wait, what? Who’s angry at you? Someone who kicks kittens for fun, probably.

Oh right, me. Maybe he’s the one whose brain needs a reboot. How does he explain that it’s not him who’s mad? Hell, he doesn’t even know what the original is supposed to be mad about. For some reason, it feels weird to ask, just because it seems important enough that admitting he forgot would be insulting.

“Anyway,” Sizhui continues after coughing into his sleeve, “it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize to me. I’ve got to go over these before tomorrow’s lesson anyway, I might as well do it here.”

“Inquiry?” Jingyi ventures, maybe-maybe-not because it’s the only title he clearly remembers from the ones canon mentioned.

“Oh, no. Asking very specific questions is still a bit out of my reach, but Fa...Hanguang-jun wrote down a list of phrases for me, so we’re going to try them tomorrow.” His face softens at the mention of Lan Wangji. If this was a fic, this would be when Jingyi keels over and presses his face into a pillow for a little while.

The chat devolves into musical cultivation. Jingyi muddles his way through it the best he can, feeling like he’s bullshitting an essay out loud, but Sizhui doesn’t seem to find his vague answers all that off-putting. He still pointedly glances down at the stack of unfinished notes on the table from time to time, but since Jingyi’s calligraphy has been getting worse and worse the less attention he pays to it, maybe it’s for the better.

When dinner time rolls around, they eat their bowls sitting on the steps leading up to the Library Pavilion, after Sizhui rightfully points out Lan Qiren would have their skins if they spilled even a drop of sauce on the sect’s precious texts. Gradually, Jingyi feels himself relax.

“So, are we chill?” he asks between two mouthfuls of rice.

Sizhui just stares at him.

Right. No slang. “...I mean, we’re doing good, right? We’re friends?”

Something complicated passes over Sizhui’s expression. It’s too fleeting for him to catch more than a glimpse of it, especially as it’s overridden by his usual calm smile before Jingyi can shove another rice ball into his mouth, but he could swear the other winced.

Well, ouch. It must show on his face, because Sizhui suddenly looks alarmed and adds : “Yes, yes, we are!” Another smile. This time, Jingyi can definitely see the strain. “We’re friends. You don’t have to doubt that.”

“Oh. Great!” Jingyi resists the urge to reach out and gently punch his shoulder. Who knows how it’d be perceived. “We’re gonna spend a lot of time together, if I’ve got to keep copying rules, so...I wanted to make sure.”

【OOC behavior detected : contradiction of backstory despite hints : -20 points. Current balance : 65 points. 】

Shut up! I want him to like me!

“We’re friends,” Sizhui repeats one last time, like he’s trying to convince himself. Then he reaches for Jingyi’s shoulder and gives his robes a tug. “We should get back in there. Two more hours before curfew, you can still get a few lines in. I won’t distract you.”

“Ugh.”

Jingyi makes a face. Sizhui laughs, and the tension from earlier dissolves. “Come on. The more you get done, the faster it’ll be over.”

It turns out they’re both severely underestimating the number of rules Jingyi can break without realizing, and therefore the amount of time they’ll be spending here.

Despite these setbacks, over the course of the next handful of weeks, Jingyi adapts to his new life the best he can. He finds out, with much relief, that even though he can’t access the original’s knowledge and memories, training since childhood pays off even after a body swap. He doesn’t have to think too hard about sparring, just keep a firm grip on his sword, and his muscles can apparently do the rest with minimal effort on his part.

It only works with the actual fighting, though. After going to bed feeling sore all over for a week straight, Jingyi gives up and gives the cold springs a shot. It freezes his limbs off, but the ache gets better after that. It even gets him about a dozen points, which he adds to the rest, gained through menial tasks across the Cloud Recesses and some well-timed mischief.

He also likes to think he gets some progress done with step one of his grand plan to survive this novel. There’s no undoing years of being a pain in everyone’s ass in a matter of weeks, but Jingyi still gives it his best shot - peppered with tasteful cursing at the System when it deducts points for actually following the rules or, you know, not being a dick to everyone he talks to. As a result, he goes from mostly being avoided by the other disciples to tolerated, even if no one but Sizhui goes out of their way to talk to him or invite him to join in on...whatever fun they have.

Jingyi doubts he’s missing out on much, at least where the Lans are concerned. But rumor has it some of the guest disciples snuck out into Caiyi to try some of the local wine, and he’s jealous of that, which is kind of irrational. He doesn’t even like the taste of wine that much, and besides, that may be too much of an infraction for a raised Lan, however prone to rule-breaking said Lan is supposed to be.

( He really can’t afford to slip up again. When he dared chop a solid forty centimeters off his hair after struggling to run a comb through it for the fifth time that week, the System’s alarm blared so loud he almost had an out of body experience. He’d felt the hundred points shaved off his score, though, even if he’d managed to negotiate half of them back. That was the spiritual equivalent of having a car zoom past right as you were about to cross the street, and Jingyi’s in no hurry to do it again...but with that said, it feels great not to have to deal with a bird’s nest every time he wakes up. )

Of course, he can’t just get comfortable with his new daily routine. Something has to happen. This time, said something takes the shape of a summon from Teacher Lan. Jingyi drags his feet over from the Library Pavilion and away from his sixth copy of Gusu Lan rules. His wrist is still complaining every time he bends it a little too far. Fuck corpse powder, it’s carpal tunnel that’s going to do him in.

Speaking of copies, maybe he shouldn’t slump this much. He’s fairly sure there’s a rule for that somewhere in the two thousand and nineties.

Given the circumstances, Jingyi fully expects another lecture from Lan Qiren the moment he sets foot in the communal hall, but quickly readjusts his expectations when he spots the small crowd of disciples gathered around their teacher. Most of them are familiar faces by now, except for the girls, who for some reason live in a completely different part of the Cloud Recesses. Still, he recognizes Lan Fan, the shimei who looks like she could bite your head off but actually gave him some pretty helpful tips on sword stances the other day, Tao Ming, the boy who’d seemed vaguely suspicious of him that first day, and of course, Sizhui in the forefront.

Lan Qiren narrows his eyes at him as he hastily joins the rest of the group. “Late again, Lan Jingyi.”

“Sorry, Teacher. This disciple was busy copying rules when he heard.”

A few of his companions snort, the noise quickly disguised as a sudden and collective bout of coughing. Jingyi can’t blame them ; if he’d heard the same words everyday for weeks on end, he’d be laughing too. Lan Qiren gives a long-suffering sigh, but whatever he’s about to tell them must take precedence, because Jingyi gets away with what might otherwise have been considered cheek.

“Madam Mo of Mo Village has sent us a request for assistance.” Given their teacher’s expression, he might as well said that she’d beaten down their door in the middle of the night and let a donkey loose in the courtyard. “From the servants’ description, it shouldn’t be anything more than a few walking corpses. Nothing a group of juniors cannot handle.”

Yeah, right. Despite knowing he’s supposed to let canon run its course, Jingyi still feels a twinge of apprehension. Why, you ask? He can answer that in two points.

Things Jingyi knows : mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

Things Jingyi doesn’t know : how to kill zombies with swords.

In theory, he did spend the last few weeks training, and he didn’t slack off either, thank you very much. Doesn’t mean he’s ever gone up against a corpse before. He’s a coward, okay? Horror movie night was hell, back in his own world. He’s in no hurry to experience it in real (?) life.

“Lan Sizhui will lead the group,” Lan Qiren continues. “I expect all of you to keep your behaviors appropriate and not bring shame onto our sect.” To no one’s surprise, Jingyi thinks, and throws the interested party a small smile. To his surprise, Sizhui blushes and looks down at his boots, looking both embarrassed and pleased. It’s an unfairly cute look on him, but again, most of his looks are.

Right on cue, the System wheezes to life like it just crawled out of a computer from the nineties.【Beginning stage checkpoint mission assigned. Destination : Mo Village. Mission : ensure the protagonist, Wei Wuxian, makes it to Mount Dafan to meet love interest Lan Wangji. Please click to accept.】

Jingyi mentally slams the Accept button.

Ding! 【Mission successfully accepted. Please read the file carefully for mission details and make appropriate preparations. We wish you success. 】

OOC function, here he comes!

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan jingyi #zhuiyi #transmigrator!ljy #kim's fics

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hi-i-love-u-bitch · 6 years

Text

Letters and Tea A Sanders Side Mario AU fan fic

Dedicated to the lovely @sugarglider9603 and her lovely AU which I love to bits! I mean I love all her AUs and if I could write fics for all of them I would. But alas, college consumes my every waking moment. So for now, please enjoy!

Dearest Virgil,

I cannot thank you and your brother enough for helping me and Patton escape from Bowceit again. Me and Patton were able to make it to the Royal Alliance Meeting in the nick of time and though it was rather boring excellent progress was made. Which reminds me, King Joan Boo says hi and asked that, if you weren’t too terribly frighten still, if you would like to come over to their mansion for lunch. But worry not, I was able to convince them to change the location over to my castle since the lilies in my garden are in bloom and I MUST show them off to someone. So, think of this as not only a “Thank You” letter but a formal invitation to lunch this Saturday. I’ll even ask Patton for that cake recipe you like so much if it’ll convince you.

That aside, I truly am thankful for not only yesterday’s rescue but for ALL the rescues you’ve done before that. I am a very capable prince, believe it or not, and can handle most things myself just fine but even I need some help every once and a while. Bowceit is a handful to deal with alone but you make the burden of it much more barrable. It is an honor to fight along side someone so brave and courageous.

As a token of my gratitude I’ve enclosed in the package a scarf that I knitted for the up coming winter or if you ever find yourself venturing to Ice Land again. You get cold so easily, I hope this will help you even just a little. I’ve also enclosed some of my favorite peppermint tea which I’ve heard helps sooth the nerves after a stressful day. The tea’s leaves come from my garden so you know you’re getting the best.

Anyways, I should wrap this up before I continue rambling on forever. Thank you, once more, for everything you do. I truly do admire you.

Love,

Prince Roman

Virgil flushed a deep scarlet as he finished reading the letter before looking back to the table were the beautifully wrapped package waited for him. It was a medium lavender box with dark purple designs held together by a white silk ribbon and a small bouquet of violets. It was so fancy and expensive looking that Virgil had been avoiding touching it for fear he’d brake it somehow. When the delivery Talyn came to drop it off Virgil at first thought they had the wrong house. But no, it was just Roman being extra.

Even so, Virgil was still extra careful when untying the ribbon and placing the bouquet in a small vase near his favorite reading nook near the window. The scarf was in Virgil’s favorite shade of deep purple and extremely soft to the touch, there were tassels at the end that he could fiddle with and a fancy V embroidered in white. Virgil put it on immediately and it was just as warm as he thought it would be.

It also smelled vaguely of peppermint.

Virgil peered into the box once more and discovered a small yet thick packet stuffed with peppermint tea bags. Tied onto it was another note that said: Come over anytime you need a refill -R.

There was a lip stained shape near the corner of the note, a light gold shimmery hue that reflected against the light. Virgil swallowed thickly, cheeks warm as he reached into the box and took the packet. He stood there staring at the note…the kiss…for what seemed like an eternity, face burning, stomach in knots, palms sweaty, heart racing, and Roman’s smile dancing across his mind.

It wasn’t that Virgil liked Roman, no wait, he did like Roman but just as…a friend? A guy that he saves on the weekly? An annoyance? Roman was just…a lot for Virgil. He was arrogant and loud and flashy and charming…very sweet to his people, brave, and confident. Roman was like the sun, beautiful to look at but burned if you looked too long.

‘But of course,’ Virgil thought bitterly ‘he is a prince after all and I’m just…a plumber.’

Still, Virgil thought it best to write back to confirm their lunch date, er, meet up and thank him for the gifts. Yeah, he should do that, Logan probably has some stationary in his office. Virgil was sure he wouldn’t mind if he took some. Or maybe it would be better to go out and buy some for himself? Virgil didn’t get many letters so he didn’t bother keeping any stationary and it would probably be a waste to buy a whole packet of stationary for just one letter. It’s not like Roman had the time to continue writing to him, he was a prince after all and he probably had many more important things to do then entertain Virgil with a letter or two.

Virgil continued to stare at the lip stain on the corner of the note, looked around to see if he was alone before gently pressing it against his lips. It was only for a second, just to get it out of his system, it wasn’t creepy or weird. At least that’s what he kept telling himself before quickly placing the packet back in the box and slamming the lid on top. His hands were shaking as was the rest of him and he was pretty sure all the blood in his body had redirected itself to his face. What was worse is that he could still smell the icy warm sent on his scarf but his body was still too paralyzed with humiliation to take it off.

After about thirty minutes of dying on the inside Virgil decided to head out for some fresh air and if on his way back, he bought some stationary that wasn’t anybody else is business.

---

Dear Roman,

I’m sorry your meeting was so boring but at least it went smoothly. Give Joan my thanks and that I’ll be there for lunch this weekend, no problem. Also thank you for convincing him to change the location, I really appreciate it. Their mansion is cool and all but the ghost children popping out every five minutes still freaks me out.

Also thank you for the gifts, the scarf was really nice and warm and the tea was delicious. I’m sorry if this comes out a little awkward, I don’t really write many letters. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to write about, there really isn’t anything interesting about me. Besides facing off with Bowceit on the weekly I don’t do much so sorry if I’m a bit boring.

I don’t do much except fix toilets, doodle and write shitty music. So, I don’t have anything in ways of a gift for you except this crappy drawing I did of this water planet I visited with Remy one time on vacation. It’s not my best work but I like it better then any of the other sketches I have on hand. I hope it’s okay.

Well, anyway, you’re probably busy and this letter has gone on long enough so I should probably end it right about now. Thanks again for the gifts, I may have just found my new favorite tea. Talk to you soon.

Sincerely Yours,

Virgil

P.S. If anyone of us is brave and courageous it’s you.

Roman squealed in delight flopping back onto the bed as he pressed the letter close to his rapidly beating heart. His face ached with the now surely permanent smile he had on and burned with a flush of scarlet on his cheeks. He raised the letter up to scan over it once more before retrieving the paper behind it and admiring the beautifully drawn master piece on it.

Virgil was a brilliant artist, were it not a black and white pencil sketch Roman could of sworn he was looking out the window of a submarine. If he thought this was “crappy” Roman could only imagine what Virgil deemed “okay”. And he apparently wrote music too, Roman wondered what kind? Orchestra, ballads, contemporary, folk…maybe love songs.

Roman sat up quickly, a blush of embarrassment creeping up his neck for even thinking such a thing. I mean, he hasn’t even heard any of his songs so who was Roman to assume what he could and couldn’t write. Even so, if it’s anything like his sketches it’s probably amazing.

“Just like him,” Roman sighed dreamily, it was an embarrassing thing to say out loud in your room alone but he still couldn’t help the goofy smile forming across his face. He hopped off the bed, trying his best to mellow out but to no avail, “Come now Roman, you’re behaving like a child. This is no way for a prince to act! Especially towards a gloomy, stick in the mud who’s crude and emo and sarcastic…and witty…smart, funny…he does have a nice smile.”

Roman bit his lip worriedly, looking out into nothingness for some sort of answer. How is it you properly answer a question such as Virgil? Virgil the plumber, Virgil the hero, Virgil the adventurer, Virgil the artist, Virgil the musician, Virgil…the person. He was one layer after another and Roman just couldn’t seem to stop unwrapping more and more to see what else there was.

Would it seem too desperate to write another letter back? They would be seeing each other this weekend but that was three whole days away! Roman couldn’t wait that long but he couldn’t just up and leave to visit Virgil right this second. Well, he could but that would be highly inappropriate! Why?

Roman’s blush darkened, “I-I should write a letter back, thanking him for the lovely drawing, yes, that’s it. A-and to thoroughly remind him about our meet up this Saturday. King Joan would surely be disappointed if he’d forget.”

---

Dearest Virgil,

I’m glad you’re coming over this Saturday, King Joan will be thrilled to see you and I…want to show you the moon garden I’ve been working on. I have most of the plants I want added into it but I feel like it’s missing something. I’ve heard you like to take midnight strolls sometime and was wonder if there are any interesting plants you’ve seen in your travels. They don’t necessarily have to be flowers just plants that thrive best in the moon light.

I would also like to thank you for the wonderful piece of art you sent me in your last letter. You really do need to give yourself more credit, you have such wonderful artistic talent that I can only imagen how your music must turn out. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble would you allow me to read over some of your musical creations? I wouldn’t show anyone else, I promise, but that’s only if you want to. I’m very curious to see what kind of music you enjoy writing.

Anyway, I’m getting a head of myself. I am immensely glad to hear that you enjoyed the gifts I sent you. I hope the scarf was the right shade of purple, I’d hate to mess up your whole emo aesthetic, haha. I’m joking, in all honesty you look quite good in purple, it’s defiantly your color. As for the tea, I’m so relieved that you liked it, it was hard to pick what type of tea flavor you’d like best but in the end I’m glad I made the right choice. I know it’s silly to say but…the smell of it reminds me of you; a cold yet unusually warm sort of fragrance.

But anyways, before I continue to ramble nonsense again, back to the subject of your picture. You said that it was a sketch from a water planet you visited with Prince Remy on vacation. I just wanted to ask, what was it like? What other planets did you visit? As a prince I don’t have much time to go out and explore the world like you and your brother, though I wish I could. You have so many adventures that take you so far and beyond this land that I envy you sometimes. So, if you could please indulge me with a few stories I’d be very happy. In exchange I’ll send you more of my home-made tea blends.

Today’s tea blend is a fruity strawberry and lemon tea, perfect for summer days. If you ever find yourself in the desert again a pitcher of that will have you cooled down and energized in no time.

Well, I’m beginning to ramble again so I shall bid you farewell for now. I’m off to purchase a frame for your picture. Hope to see you soon.

Love,

Prince Roman

P.S. You were wrong in your last letter. You, Virgil Sanders, are the most intriguing man I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.

Virgil wanted to scream, in a good way for once. He had not expected for Roman to write back and so soon at that but he was sooo glad that he did. Roman truly wanted to get to know him, asking for his opinion on the moon garden as well as details of his travels. He thought Virgil was interesting and talented and worth writing to! And he liked Virgil’s crappy drawing so much that he was going to fucking frame it.

Virgil was positive he looked like a hopeless, blushing mess and thanked his lucky stars he was in the privacy of his own room or Logan would tease him until the day he died. Not that he didn’t already but this would just give him more material to use against him. Virgil grabbed one of the nearby pillows so as to muffle his screams of panic and joy. This was all really just too much, Roman was just too much!

Yet Virgil couldn’t get enough of him.

He looked back towards his desk where he left the letter and besides it, a thick packet filled with tea alongside another kiss sealed note. He hadn’t even looked at it, too afraid and embarrassed that the same thing as last time would happen. Virgil wondered how much someone could blush without passing out because he’s pretty sure he’s passed that limit by now. He had kept the other note in the same purple box it came in up on top of his closet where he couldn’t see it. He wasn’t sure if it was due to embarrassment or the burning temptation to do it again.

Virgil swallowed thickly, clutching his pillow close as he slowly made his way to his desk and peered over at the note. He saw the same familiar gold tinted lip stain at the corner alongside perfect cursive handwriting that said: Hope you like this blend, it’s one of my favorites. The strawberries came out extra sweet this harvest. -R.

The purple clad plumber wondered, if he supposedly smelled like peppermint would Roman smelled like strawberries and lemons. Or would it be some sort of summery citrus sent that would be carried across a warm wind through a flower field? Great stars above, where the hell did that come from? Virgil viciously shook his head before gingerly grabbing the packet and bringing it close to his face. He stopped just an inch short of contact though it was a tremendous test of self-restraint. The sent wasn’t as overpowering as the peppermint but still pretty strong since they were freshly picked and dried. It truly did smell of summer though.

Virgil didn’t do it on purpose, it was purely a subconscious reaction that caused him to move. His lips gently placed over the golden stain and the sent of summer taking over his senses, and for a moment, if he closed his eyes tight, he could pretend Roman was there with him. Just for a moment he could pretend this was real and not a pathetic act of loneliness and desperation. Roman was here and he smelled like summer and his writing became words of adoration and praise.

He didn’t notice he was crying until he finally snapped out of his trance and slowly placed the packet back down. Star’s above, he was so pathetic. Falling into the delusion that these notes were some sort of love letter and that he even had a slim chance at getting with Roman. A prince no less!

He really shouldn’t write back, it would just hurt more then it already did. Unfortunately, Virgil must be some sort of masochist because he did anyway. He knew he’d just fall deeper and deeper into whatever this was but he just couldn’t stop. When it came to Roman he doesn’t think he could ever stop.

---

And so, it continued on, past Saturday’s lunch, days beyond days, weeks beyond weeks, months beyond months.

Dear Roman, I hear pink succulent are a good type of plant to have in moon gardens. Though maybe any kind will do, along with a few other cacti. My favorite are turbinicarpus…

Dearest Virgil, your music is just as beautiful as your drawings! I hope you don’t mind but I played a few notes on my piano when I had a chance to be alone. I feel these would make wonderful sounding songs…

Dear Roman, I’m not really great with words, which is why I mainly compose melodies. But if you feel like using them to write lyrics please go right ahead. You may be a drama queen but you have this great flow with words…

Dearest Virgil, Oh ha ha, that’s rich coming from you mister I-wanna-live-in-a-haunted-house! Which I’m not surprised in the least! Though, the Phantom did live under the crypts of the opera house and was a genius musician…

Dear Roman, went over to Joan’s mansion and explored the graveyard. They told the ghost children before hand to make themselves known before greeting me so that’s good. They’re a pretty good group to talk to when they aren’t popping out of nowhere…

Dearest Virgil, you’ll be excited to hear that I’ve decided to dedicate a section of my green house into making a cactus garden! I had visited the desert earlier this week for some royal business when the idea struck me. So, I picked up a few rebutia to get started…

Dear Roman, the piranha plants of the jungle are probably the most vicious out of all the other piranha plants. Not to say the rest aren’t as deadly but these ones have some extra bit to them for some reason. Logan thinks it’s some sort of muted jungle fever that only plants get…

Dearest Virgil, you’re painting of the stars is beautiful as well as the melody that came along with it…

Dear Roman, you have such a talent for making great tea blends, have you ever thought of opening a store…?

Dearest Virgil, you and your brother are coming to the banquet Friday, right…?

Dear Roman, Patton wants to go hiking, please say you’ll come…

Dearest Virgil…

Dear Roman…

…you’re absolutely amazing…

…I truly enjoy your company…

Love…

Sincerely yours…

Roman.

Virgil.

---

Roman took a breath, double checking to make sure that everything was perfect. Virgil was coming over today under the impression that Roman wanted to show off his beautifully progressing cactus garden. That was only partly true, the other part being was that hopefully, maybe, possibly, Roman would work up the nerve to confess to him. He’s been keeping these feelings in for months and if he had to keep them secret for one more day Roman swore he’d explode into a fiery inferno.

Still, there was the possibility of rejection and the shattered remains of a friendship soon to be gone that was just enough to keep the Prince of Sarasaland tight lipped forever. But he had to at least try, if not he knew he’d regret it forever. Though was ruining a beautifully constructed friendship worth all that?

He hadn’t time to think over the answer when a Talyn scurried over to inform him that Virgil was finally here. His breath caught in his throat and his palms began to sweat, all very un-prince like but could not be helped, Virgil just had that effect on Roman. He caused him to let go of his title and forget his image so that he could just be Roman and not Prince Roman of Sarasaland. Truly, he could be himself around the purple clad plumber.

“I finished the other half of the song I sent you last week.” Virgil announced as he entered the garden, waving a paper he had tucked in his overalls.

Roman smiled fondly, “Excellent, we’ll look over it after lunch. Come and sit, I’ve prepared a special blend of that peppermint tea that you like.”

---

It was quite easy to talk to Roman, just like how it’s easy to write pages and pages of letter to him. They always have something to talk about, a wide range of serious to nonsense topics, and when they didn’t the two were perfectly comfortable sitting in silence. Just enjoying each other’s physical company as the warm summer’s breeze passed between them. It was all very nice.

But there was something off.

Roman had been a bit fidgety. Not that he wasn’t prone to being a bit fidgety, lord knows that next to Patton Roman wasn’t one to keep still for very long. But this time it seemed different. Anxious, almost.

‘What did Roman have to be anxious about?’ Virgil wondered ‘Bowciet left for a family vacation with the kids, he doesn’t have any important diplomatic meetings for a while, and Patton was coming over tomorrow for a picnic. So, what’s up?’

“Roman-”

“Virgil!” Roman said at the same time Virgil called to him.

“Oh, no you-”

“Sorry, you can-”

They awkwardly stared at each other in tense silence, though from what Virgil didn’t know. All he knew was that Roman was hiding something and he had no idea if it was good or bad. Maybe he knew Virgil liked him? That was probably the whole point why he was invited over, to be let down gently before he could even have chance to confess. It was probably for the best, Virgil hadn’t ever planed on confessing anyways so maybe with this out of the way he could finally move on. Or be sad and pathetic and alone forever knowing it was his fault he ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had. All because he couldn’t keep his stupid emotions in check-

“I think I’m in love with you!” Roman blurted out.

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?” Virgil said, in a brilliant moment of word association. He stares at Roman whose face was a pretty shade of pink and had a look of utter embarrassment and panic. Virgil never thought he’d see the day when the Prince Roman, self-proclaimed charmer and smooth talker, would get flustered.

“Y-you heard what I said!” Roman squeaked out, his face going a deeper shade of red.

“I did but I’m not sure if I was hallucinating or not,” Virgil confessed “so can you please repeat it one more time? Just to know that I’m not dreaming, please?”

Roman squinted at him suspiciously, Virgil reached over and squeezed his hand, eyes sincere and nervous, “Please…”

The prince bit his bottom lip nervously as he squeezed back in response, “I…I love you.”

Again, Virgil’s body seemed to move on its own accord as he leaned over the small tea table and softly kissed the prince’s gold tinted lips. He pulled back just a moment later, somehow breathless as he whispered against the prince’s mouth, “Again.”

“I love you.” He repeated without fail and did not wait for Virgil to make the first move again. Greedily capturing his knight’s mouth in his own, cupping his hand behind his head and pulling them closer. They part for breath once more and this time it’s Roman who demands a confirmation, “Now you.”

Virgil did not hesitate, “I love you.”

Roman pulled them back in so fast he was dizzy but he did not stop him. Couldn’t stop him, couldn’t stop himself, the fire was addicting and Virgil knew he’d happily burn in it for Roman. Just as he knew that Roman would willingly freeze to death in his bitter winds so long as he could taste the minty warmth of peppermint while Virgil consumed the summer breeze.

#sanders sides #mario au #ss mario au #prinxiety #roman #prince roman #virgil #virgil sanders #roman sanders #fan fic #thomas sanders

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thewrittenromance · 6 years

Text

Business Card (skinny!Steve Rogers x reader)

Summary: Tony’s ‘medicine’ messed with Steve’s serum and now he has to deal with his insecurities and sudden company!

WordCount: 2047

Warnings: N/A

A/N: N/A

“What the hell is this Stark?” snapped Steve Rogers as he burst into the room. Tony looked up startled and his eyebrows raised even farther up.

“Whoa, what happened here, Rogers? Reverse growth spurt?” But despite his sarcasm, Tony was quite concerned. It could be from-

“That medicine you gave me! You said it should temporarily alter some of the serums affects so it can heal me with more ease and then this? Explain yourself!” Steve shouted, his small frame and his attempt to walk intimidatingly at Stark almost made Tony laugh. Instead he scoffed to cover up his laughter at the sight and focus on the ordeal.

“It should only alter some things, but not..this-” tony said standing, “Let me call Cho, she might be able to help. I’m not a doctor you know.”

Steve went red in the face at that comment, “Are you implying that you did not get medical advice on a medicinal invention you gave me?”

Stark paused, “Maybe- it was to help save your life, Cap!”

“It’s medical experimentation!”

“Oh yeah, like you had any problem with that in the 40’s!” Tony shouted.

Both men stared at each other, Tony was growling and glaring. Steve had his shoulders hunched and his fisted balled in anger. HIs fair complexion looked ruddy and red in his anger.

“Look, I’ll call Cho, we’ll talk, see what we can do. The others are going on the mission later tonight, Vision can stay with you,” Tony sighed going to grab his phone.

Steve crossed his arms and glared as Tony spoke on the phone to Helen Cho and he hung up as quickly as he called.

“I’m going to her lab, we’ll figure something out, Cap, stay in tonight, don’t do...anything stupid,” Tony advised grabbing his other supplies and something from a file cabinet. Who knew he could be organized?

“Oh,” Tony said as he raced out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Steve called going after him.

“I’ve got a designer coming in later today to get some measurement and stuff for the downstairs offices, let them in and show them around, should be coming around three-” Tony shouted already pressing the close doors button on the elevator. Steve slammed his small fist into the doors, “tony!” he shouted to no avail. He groaned, he’d have to hide in his room until they figured all this out. No one would stop asking questions or possibly even make fun of him if they found him like this.

But then there was the designing person, the designer. Steve touched his arm, frail and thin once more, he rubbed at it and quietly made his way to his room. The mirror in the hallway had his catch his reflection. He stared at himself. It was so strange. His clothes were gargantuan on his small body, hanging everywhere. There was probably no clothes anywhere that would fit him well. Even back in the forties, everything was loose on him. His hair flapped over his forehead and he pushed it back as he had always once done. It was all familiar.

Steve finally pulled himself away from the mirror and hid away in his room, doodling old memories the best he could. If he dwelled on his appearance any longer he just knew his old insecurities would come back. And they already were, he was DREADING having to speak with the designer.

Before he realized it, it was three, and Vision knocked on the door to inform him of the designer's arrival. Steve looked up and slowly went to the door. He had to brace himself.

Waiting in the lobby of the tower, stood a woman, dressed in a salmon dress that touched the floor, but it was casual, she had on a blazer and a toolbox in one hand and thick folders in the other.

“Hello, I’m (y/n), i’m here to inspect the offices, from (y/l/n)’s Design Work,” she said formally and shifted the weight of the paper to not get too heavy.

“Yes, of course, ma’am, right this way, would you like me to carry some of those papers for you?” Steve asked he felt his face heat up when the woman eyed him head to toe. Was he THAT skinny that the woman didn’t even think he could carry papers!?

“I-I can carry them,” he started to say firmly but he almost gasped when the papers came flying at them.

“Yes, please, thank you very much, they’re pretty heavy and I carried them two blocks cause that cabbie couldn’t get close enough to the building with parking and all. Hectic out there,” she said and switched the toolbox to her other hand. She looked at him again, he was a small man, blonde, with light colored eyes. She smiled, he must have been an intern or something. He was a much better improvement from the last intern she worked with who’d just been offered a job at the firm she’d been hired to design for. Rude, condescending, and disgustingly sexist.

“Is it?” Steve said attempting to hold the conversation. He struggled to click the elevator button when they got there, he was starting to feel out of breath, what papers did the woman have? Or was the loss of the serum’s effects?

“I got it,” (y/n) said quickly and smacked the button as she stood beside him, “you got the papers I got the buttons.” She smiled at him as the elevator dinged open and she stepped in. Steve stepped in beside her.

“What floor?” (y/n) asked, looking at him again, he was quite the shy one.

“Three,” Steve answered. (y/n) pressed the button and they stood there in comfortable silence. At least to her. Steve itched to make conversation.

“So um, what do you do?” He asked.

(y/n) looked right at him, “what do i do?” She couldn’t help but laugh, he was so awkward it was endearing so far!

“I’m a designer, as you know, I do interior design and graphic design, lots of art stuff, thank god it’s on the more practical side, i was going to do fine arts, but in this economy, yeah right!” (y/n) said her words like a fountain. It was only then that Steve realized she had an accent. He couldn’t place it though. It made sense though, she wasn’t white, she probably did speak a second language!

“I-I like to draw,” was Steve’s response, why did he have to say that? Peggy was right, he had NO idea how to talk to women, even in this day and age.

“Really? Cool, like what? Still life, portrait, anime?” (y/n) said as the elevators opened, she walked briskly out and Steve shuffled out after her from the weight of the papers. Damn the remnants of asthma.

“Portrait and still life mostly,” Steve said out of the breath and then gestured with his head toward one of the offices.

“Nice, I can’t paint a person to save my life, come out looking like a crappy clay sculpture,” (y/n) grinned and waltzed into the office, it was an empty grey room with one desk and chairs piled in a corner.

“Oh god, look at this place, ugh, no one he needed a designer, huh?” (y/n) laughed and pointed to the desk, “go ahead and put the files there, i’m going to start taking the room’s measurements. Wait- is there water around here? I knew i left that water bottle in the cab! Damn it-”

“I’ll go get you a water bottle ma’am,” Steve said quickly.

“(y/n),” She corrected, “call me (y/n), not ma’am, what am i? Fifty? I’m just as young as you honey.”

“Right okay, i’ll be right back,” Steve chuckled. He quickly made his way to the kitchen, this woman was funny and pretty laid back. He kinda liked her. He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that now. Especially not like this. Women never liked him then, he doubted they’d like him now.

He was quick to take the water to (y/n) who thanked him again and downed the bottle in a second. He stared.

“What? It’s warm out and i’m working!” (y/n) defended and grinned before crouching again to measure.

“So,” She asked then, “how do you like working for Stark? Or do you work with Ms. Potts?”

Steve was confused, “excuse me? I dont- work for?”

(y/n) looked up, “You don’t work here? Aren’t you an intern?”

An intern. She thought he was an intern. She didn’t even recognize him either! He had to cover his ass quick.

“Oh, I work with Pepper, she’s uh, much nicer,” Steve replied.

“I bet, she was the one who gave me all of Mr.Stark’s information and details, i wasn’t even able to talk to him on the phone. I thought I’d see him here today to get some more info but, hey what can you do.”

“He’s off doing some research actually, he left in the morning.” “Make sense, do me a favor and pass me the third folder please,” she said pointing to the file pile.

“Thank you,” she chirped as she grabbed the file from him and flipped through it quickly.

“Is that pink?” Steve asked peeking over her shoulder.

“Huh?” (y/n) said startled, she didn’t realize he was that close. She tried to stand but lost her balance and tipped over. She dropped the file, Steve grabbed the file, though its contents still spilled out, but much more importantly, he grabbed her. (y/n) gripped his arm tightly and gladly accepted his help in standing. “Whooph! That was crazy!” (y/n) exclaimed, “give a girl a heart attack will you!” But she was smiling so Steve knew it wasn’t that serious, just an expression.

“Thanks, but I think i’m gonna have to crouch again to pick up all this stuff, don’t leave I might fall again,” she teased and Steve laughed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you ma’am,” Steve said sheepishly. Only to be met by her stern look as she stood up again. They stood nearly eye to eye, though he had to admit, she was still a tad smaller.

“(y/n)!” he nearly shouted. She was taken aback and they stared at one another for quite a long moment before (y/n) doubled over in laughter, it was contagious and they both were laughing uncontrollably now.

(y/n) wiped a tear from her eyes and grinned, “oh man- that was good, i haven’t had a laugh like that in forever.”

Steve was grinning from ear to ear with this woman and he felt genuinely happy. He all but forgot about his situation.

They went quiet again and Steve let her work instead of distracting her. It was barely five when she finished up and he led her quietly down to the lobby and the exit.

She bit her lip and paused as Steve opened the door for her.

“Hey, are you doing anything right? Like..it’s five, and work ends right? Or do you work like real late?”

Steve was surprised, why would she care?

“Um..till late,” he lied.

“Oh okay..well, uh, here, my business card,” she said scribbling something on it, juggling with her toolbox and papers. Steve took it politely, not that he might be in need of her services anytime soon.

“Well, have a good night (y/n),” Steve waved and (y/n) smiled back

“You too, mister- hey, i never got your name! All this time!” “Steve,” he said and she nodded.

“Nice to meet you Steve, may we meet again,” and with that she seemed to hail a cab out of nowhere and she climbed in, giving him one last wave from her seat.

Steve watched the cab go and then looked back to the business card. Her name, her number, her address, email, and hours. On the front side was her business name (y/l/n)’s Design Work and just below it ‘CALL/TEXT ME.’

Steve’s eyes boggled. He nearly fainted in the doorway. He made quick to his room to add her number to his phone. He was definitely going to call her.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert #skinny!steve #skinny!steve x reader #skinny steve #preserum steve #preserum!steve #preserum steve x reader #preserum!steve x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #romance #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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bethsilliteratewriting-blog · 5 years

Text

Can I get one off you?

Words: 1,990

Pairing: Treebros

slight tw for anxiety and smoking?

Evan was once again, completely and utterly anxious. His anxiety was rather high today, being that it was the first day of senior year. Gripping his backpack strap with his uncasted arm, he made his way into the school, his heart-rate quickening and breathing becoming unsteady.

Anxiety and panic still steadily creeping its way towards Evan, he maneuvered his way through the busy hall to his locker, actively avoiding everyone and trying not to flinch at the sounds of lockers being shut or classroom doors being opened. He was near tears, and damn he really didn't need to be crying right now. Taking a shaky breath and trying to rid the knot that was growing in the base of his throat, he makes it to his locker.

As he was still trying not to have a full-blown panic attack and get his breathing under control, someone slings their arm around his shoulder, causing Evan to jump and let out a surprised gasp-like-squeak.

"Wow, did you turn into a dog toy, what the hell was that sound, Hansen?" Jared asked, amusement lacing his voice. Evan released a shaky fake laugh himself before gripping the hem of his shirt, an anxious habit he somehow picked up. Jared follows the sight of Evan's hand before letting out a startled laugh, "Shit, what's up with the cast? Did you really jerk off so much that you broke your arm?" Jared laughs again, releasing his grip on Evan's shoulder.

"Wha- No! I just.. I fell out of a tree.." Evan mumbled quietly in reply,

"Oh my god, that's is so lame!" He said loudly, causing a few heads to turn. "Are you an acorn or something?"

Evan quickly shook his head and bit his lip, he cast his gaze down. Jared was talking too loudly, everyone was looking. They were all probably staring. Everyone was thinking he was some kind of idiot. There were too many people, it was too much, too much. The knot at the base of his throat was back, and he was struggling to breathe, his entire body was shaking and his eyes were brimming with unshed tears. Panic kept ebbing its way towards Evan until he was near hyperventilating, finally choking out a stuttered sentence.

"C-Class, I, I h-have to get to c-class."

He pushed his way past Jared, his legs trembling and barely holding his weight. Only briefly hearing Jared saying something about someone's hair as he pushes through the hall buzzing with people, each in their own respective friend groups. Getting enough control over his shaky legs, he somehow makes it through the hall and past the exit doors of the school. Tears finally streaming down his face, he exited the doors to the back of the school, using the wall to support himself. Evan sank down the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest and focused on trying to get oxygen in his lungs. His throat burned with the lack of air, and his eyes itched with the number of tears he was shedding due to panic. He sat that way for a while, trembling and waiting out his panic attack, waiting for his body to run out of adrenaline.

As his anxiety eased, and he could finally breathe, he shrugged off his backpack, letting his head hit the wall he was sitting against. Knowing he was probably missing his first class, anxiety slowly clawed its way up again, causing Evan to drastically search through his backpack for the cigarettes he stored in the very bottom of his backpack. Normally the very idea of getting caught smoking on school grounds caused Evan to be too paranoid to ever attempt it, but after the encounter with Jared, he's pretty sure he couldn't be too bothered to care. His anxiety was expectedly high today. The thought of senior year, the last year of high school, the thought of having to apply for colleges, having to pay for college, getting scholarships.

Evan lit the ciggerate with shaking hands and slowly took a practiced drag. With the nicotine filling his head, he could feel his anxiety easing away entirely, taking another long drag and exhaling slowly, letting the smoke cloud in front of him.

Half a ciggerate later, Evan was feeling less on edge, and almost okay enough to walk back into the school building and be on time for his next class. This was quickly changed by the school doors he was sitting next to aggressively swinging open, revealing a trembling teen clad in black. Said teen paced back and forth, long hair covering his face from Evan's view. Which was just fine with him, as Evan was now holding his breath and trying his hardest to blend into the wall. He was quickly discovered though as the teen, who turned out to be Connor Murphy swung around, glaring angrily at Evan. Really, Evan should have guessed. From the fraying messenger bag, black hoodie and painted nails, it should have been a dead give away.

A tense silence of staring passed over them, Connor now with his hands balled into fists and breathing heavily. Connor stood still, staring at him for a long moment, radiating nothing but rage. Suddenly his shoulders slump as if life has been drained out of him and he looks at Evan now with exhaustion. The heavy silence is broken with Connor's heavy sigh and question,

"Can I get one off you?"

Evan stares dumbly, the question not processing at all. He simply blinks, still staring openly at Connor before blurting out, "Wha- What?"

Connor takes a deep breath, his eye twitching in irritation. "A fucking ciggerate, can I get one off you?"

Evan, as if now just remembering the lit cigarette in his hand, nods quickly and holds up the pack to Connor, his hand shaking again. Connor sighs in what sounds like relief, pulling one out and slumping down against the wall next to Evan, before holding his hand out expectantly. Staring at his hand dumbly again, Evan finally realizes he's asking for a lighter. He shuffles around in his backpack again before placing it in Connor's hand and watching him lite his own cigarette taking a drag with ease. Not wanting to be caught staring like some creep, Evan takes another drag of his own. An awkward silence settles over them again, as they sit, taking drag after drag. Evan wonders what would be the easiest and less obvious escape route. God, what if they get caught. Connor was known to be the resident school druggy, so it was no surprised he asked for a ciggerate, but Evan was starting to panic at the idea of being caught or told on. He really couldn't afford to have this on his school record. Oh god, I have to get out.

His racing thoughts were halted, by Connor breaking the deafening silence.

"What happened to your arm?" He asked,

"O-Oh! Uh- I, well, fell out of a tree." Evan sputters out, looking at the cast.

"Well, that's just about the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard." Connor laughs, taking another drag before finishing off his cigarette.

He nods, a laugh dying on his lips, "I know."

"Want me to sign it?" Connor asks, giving a sideways glance at Evan.

"Y-You don't have to. I mean, you can if you want, but like, no pressure or obligation or anything." Evan rambled on before sighing and taking the last drag of his own cigarette.

Evan finally looked over at Connor, at the sound of shuffling. He was looking through his pockets and pulled out a sharpie. Evan would have asked why he conveniently had a sharpie in his pocket, before noticing the intricate swirls and doodles that covered Connor's hands. His staring was interrupted by Connor harshly grasping at Evan's casted arm, making him squeak out a small 'ow.' Connor, looking at Evan's face mumbled out a 'sorry', easing his grip on the boy's arm. Uncapping the black marker, he wrote out his name in large blocky letters.

"Now, that just looks like shit, doesn't it?" Connor mumbled, glaring down at the sloppy handwriting.

"It's not bad," Evan replied, looking down at the cast as well. He was actually rather happy to have at least one name on his cast, even if it was from Connor Murphy. He lightly ran a hand down the name, careful not to smudge the still damp ink.

"Nah, it looks like crap, let me try and fix it." He said, grabbing at Evan's arm again, albeit softer this time. Connor leaned down, scribbling on the cast. His long hair obscured the view of whatever he was writing, making Evan panic slightly. He just hoped to god he wasn't drawing a dick on his cast. Sometime later, Connor stopped, placing the cap back on the sharpie and looking over his work. When Evan finally had the nerve to look down at his cast, he was pleasantly surprised. The same swirl designs that decorated Connors' hands were distributed on his cast, flowers, leaves, and vines were all around and weaved through the large letters of Connor's name.

"Oh- T-Thank you," Evan said, giving a hesitant smile to Connor. "It's really pretty, I mean, like, you're a really good artist."

He just shrugged, placing the sharpie back in his pocket. "It was just to make up for my crappy handwriting."

"It's really not the bad," Evan replied, still looking at Connor, whose eyes had closed and was now resting against the wall.

"I guess," Was the disinterested answer he gave,

Evan, trying to grasp at something else to say as to not go back to the awkward silence, blurted out the first thing he could think of, "Why are you skipping class?" That did get Connor's attention, as he turned his gaze to Evan, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Why the fuck are you skipping class?" Came Connor's defensive reply.

Evan shrank back into the wall, again bringing his knees close to his chest and hugging them. Not wanting to face the truth of having an anxiety disorder, and not being able to function like a normal human for two damn seconds, he went with the next best thing. "It was just a stressful morning I guess.. I needed some time."

Connor let out a puff of air that sounded almost like a laugh and a disbelieving sigh. "So you went to the back of the school to smoke? Gotta say, never expected shy Evan Hansen that I shared English with to smoke outside the school." He grinned, prompting Evan to give a sheepish smile back. "To answer your question though, Jared Kleinman is a dick."

Evan let out a muffled hum of an agreement, remembering the comment Jared made before he ran down the hall. "Yeah.. He kind of is. Sorry if he said something to you."

Connor just shrugged again, standing up and hoisting his backpack up higher. "It's not your fault he's a dick."

Evan quickly packed the lighter and pack of cigarettes away, looking up at Connor. "Where are you going?" He asked hesitantly, a frown carving its way onto his face. Evan was rather enjoying the small conversation he was having with Connor. It was more than anything he ever did with Jared, no insults being thrown, no one poking fun at his anxiety. Connor glanced back down at Evan, a mischevious grin etching it's way onto his face.

"You're not what I expected you to be, Hansen. And for that reason, you and I," he paused pointing at Evan before himself for dramatic effect, "are going to ditch school." Connor held his hand out again, but this time he was awaiting Evan's hand, a grin still in place on his face, lighting up his normally scowled features. The anxiety that coursed through him at the thought of ditching an entire day of school almost propelled him to say no. Almost.

#treebros #deh #dear evan hansen #evan hansen #connor murphy #tree bros #lol this is gay #and stupid #but yknow #dont smoke kids

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starsofshadowanddust · 6 years

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A Canvas of Art and Dreams

Heya! Its Chapter 1 of the fic! This was written by Me (Anais) and I hope you enjoy!

Teaser

EDIT: I accidentally posted Chapter 2 before this so I am really sorry for the confusion, feel free to complain in my ask box.

Feyre dug the last of her boxes out of the back of her car, and lugged it into the decently sized dorm apartment. Thankful that she didn’t have to deal with lugging her crap up stairs, she backed the door open and walked to her room to drop off her art supplies in the back of her closet. Feyre wasn’t entirely sure why she had brought all that she had, but she was hopeful.

A new leaf, a new life, Feyre thought to herself as she made up her bed with dark silvery blue bedspread that was godly soft. As wonderful as that bedspread was, Feyre couldn’t help but cover it with the quilt she had been gifted at her support group. Speaking of which, she couldn’t help but wonder, where on earth is my roommate?

“I’m here!” a singsong cheer came from the front door. Feyre stuck her head through her door right as Mor strode through with two well built men behind her - faces hidden by massive boxes. Sighing at the dramatic entrance, Feyre went and opened up Mor’s door to help the two men lug their loads into Mor’s room. Dancing into the room, Mor held out her arms to ask for a hug and Feyre was glad to reciprocate. The two men hugged and waved Mor goodbye and were heard stomping up the stairs to the dorm above theirs.

“Are you going to finish unpacking now or later?” Feyre flopped onto the beanbag that had been unceremoniously dropped into a corner of the “living room” as Mor lounged on the couch across from her. A snort sounded across the room.

“Feyre, please,” replied Mor dramatically posing, “this is when we actually relax before we die from stress and homework.” Feyre tilted her head sarcastically at Mor before digging her laptop out of her backpack which she had dropped next to the beanbag when she was first moving in. Scrolling around, she brought up the housing webpage and the required roommate contract that needed to be submitted. Sighing about the crappy questions, Feyre read off the first line in a cheesy customer-service voice.

“What do you agree on for cleaning and taking out trash and recycling?” Mor nearly fell off the couch laughing.

--- Two Weeks Before Midterms ---

The door nearly slammed shut and the sound of a backpack being dropped to the ground followed by a person met Feyre’s ears as she sat at her desk and glared at the piece of paper in front of her. This was quickly followed by a drawn out “ugh” that lasted nearly a minute. Mor then dragged her shoes off and hefted her backpack over to the bar counter, pulling out her laptop and a pad of paper. Feyre gave up on trying to start this assignment from hell, and walked over to the kitchen in a hoodie and pj pants. Mor was clearly done with life as her bra was flung across the room and she had already shed her pencil skirt for sweatpants.

“I swear to god this exam is going to kill me. Not to mention the essay I have due on Monday.”

Feyre shook her head and started up a pot of coffee as, clearly, they were both going to need it.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fine,” replied Feyre wryly, “I’ve got this hell project due soon and then they are going to announce the big project for FA majors. I just hope it’s not something I am going to hate and that we have to option of doing it on our own.”

Mor simply glared at her roommate, clearly not sympathetic.

“Oh yes, because clearly doodling is harder than trying to defend an idiot who clearly is going to end up in jail and yet I still have to defend his ass.”

“Ugh... We clearly need a girls night - and I mean beyond meetings, Mor” complained Feyre. At this, Mor smirked and went to speak when she was interrupted by sudden bass pounding through their ceiling. At this, both women groaned and dramatically collapsed onto the counter before cracking up at each others reactions.

“I swear to god, they are all going to die of alcohol poisoning before the end of this semester!”

Feyre snickered at that, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring a mug half full, “coffee float?”

“Oh god yes”

Fey reached over to drag some chocolate ice cream out of the freezer and lumped an entire ball of the stuff into the coffee before pulling out another mug and making herself one as well. Putting away the ice cream, Fey and Mor carefully collapsed onto the corner couch underneath the smallish window next to the front door. While Fey grabbed the nearest random drawing tablet and tugged a pencil out of her bun, Mor set her coffee down carefully before stretching over the arm of the couch to grab her laptop out of her backpack.

It was only after struggling for an hour or so that Mor over-carefully saved her files and closed her laptop, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room by sheer willpower and coffee. Feyre looked up from her sketch at this, and raised an eyebrow in question.

“I can’t focus with all the fucking noise,” Mor retorted while flipping off the ceiling. Feyre could only shake her head and chuckle, with the hope that the boys upstairs were smart enough to avoid Mor the next day if they didn’t want a headache worse than their likely hangovers.

“Care for some DIY anger management?”

“Oh, like you think you could beat me in mario kart.”

“Bring it on.”

TAG LIST!

@unicornbooks-blog @bookofmaas @highladyofherondale @reallyangryrn @arcanehatter @freshladyfire @erinmau @bookieworm @bibliophilicmermaid @heyme231 @salt-n-burn-em-all @urbisie @tntwme @wishingtobemrswhitethorn @acociara @zaradearbornsucks @writer-reader-traveler @squishylions @wesuprememginger @eatsleepdance2117 @fireblood1112 @emmakalexander @obsessed-bisexual @captainluxiian @nessian00 @annalisacoppolino @ellenoftroy @mariamuses @highladyjel @captain-timetraveldreamer @my-ships-will-never-be-sank @nephelle--waarrior-scribe @highladyrhysand @manonchrochanblackbeak @rairrai @elainarch @togreblog @queenoffantasy @wolffrising @tillthedawnbreaks @thealicelovebooksandstuff

#acoaad #i am an idiot and I am sorry #acaad chapter 1

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league-of-light · 6 years

Text

Week 4 Pick’em

Look, I know I’m late on the picks this week. I wanted to get them in yesterday, but other things came up and I didn’t get to it. I’m sorry, ok? To make up for it, I have written quite the long pick’em for this week. I’m not entirely sure if I will be able to make them this long every week, but I think I should be able to.

Why would I spend all this time writing the pick’em? Great question. Isn’t there a more productive use of your time? Probably. Will, you’re moving next week, shouldn’t you be packing or something? Are you just spending way more time writing picks as a means to delay the inevitable anxiety you’re going to feel about starting a new job and moving? Do you think this is the healthiest way to deal with that? Psh, you’re not my therapist.

Anyway, here goes

Yerboi vs Brenner? I hardly know’er

This Will vs. Brenner bout, should be promotionally billed as “Chronically Injured and Underperforming” vs “Complete Lineup Ineptitude”. Both teams come into Week 3 at a resounding 0-2, and are looking to get their season on track after some of high profile trades in the first couple weeks of the season.

There are always big expectations when you make a trade in Fantasy Football. Typically speaking, you hope and expect that the players you got are going to outperform whomever you traded away (or at the very least perform somewhat similarly). Unfortunately, that won’t always be the case. Sometimes there are weeks like last week, where JuJu outscored T.Y. Hilton and I am forced to sit there and reflect on how I would have won if I just kept JuJu. Other times, there are weeks like this week, where Brenner ensures he doesn’t have to deal with the emotional trauma of a trade gone awry because he benches the players he traded for. (No there aren’t, this literally never happens)

I pick myself, simply because I don’t think I’ve actually ever seen a team projected to score as few points as Brenner.

Story To Watch: How quickly it will take Drew Brees to score more than the 3 points Brenner got from Tyrod Taylor. My guess is 4 plays.

Tangiphil vs Hewie and the Hashslingers

After a fairly explosive first week of the season, we can all finally exhale — Phil’s team is bad again. Shockingly, his 3-headed Running Back Monster is down a head. Unlike the legend of the Hydra, instead of another head growing in it’s place, Phil decided to chase last week’s bench points and play Nelson Agholor. If you check his bench this week you may notice Joe Mixon outside of the IR slot, Isaiah Crowell’s wasted 18 point TNF total, and another Jets receiver. That’s right folks, it’s week 3 and Phil is already in midseason form.

But enough about Phil. Steve is 2-0 and I expect his win streak to continue this week. In my humble opinion, his team is underprojected with only 98 points, as Big Ben, Melvin Gordon, and Marvin Jones all look poised to be playing catchup in potentially high scoring games. Look for Steve to hopefully rise in the power rankings after squashing Phil.

Story To Watch: He may be the second head of a three two-headed running back monstrosity, but Adrian Peterson is going to look more like Mike Wazowski than James P. Sullivan this week. The Packers offense comes to FedEx Field with an offense that looks like two-day expedited shipping, while the Redskins offense has been looking like the Pony Express. Game script gets away from the ‘Skins and they abandon the run.

Kyle vs Sean

Close to half of this league isn’t from Rockland, so I’m going to use this opportunity to tell a story. To the hometown heroes - some of the overarching details may be incorrect, but I don’t care I have the talking stick. If you want accuracy you can write the damn blog post next week. Anyway, in sixth grade every middle school student has to take World History. The curriculum is geared towards ancient civilizations, and a decent chunk of time is spent on Egypt. As such, every year there was (is?, not sure if they still do it) a grade-wide Egypt project where students had to use their knowledge of Egypt, make something, and showcase it to the class. Think of it like a science fair, but with crappy Egyptian dioramas instead of baking soda volcanoes. Since I was a bright eyed ambitious young man who loved art and mythology, I knew I would do great on this project. I chose the ambitious task of making a sculpture of Horus, the Falcon-headed man prince of the Egyptian pantheon. It wasn’t long before I realized my doodling skills didn’t translate well into making 3D models, but I was in far too deep. I molded the clay as best I could, and then “accidentally” left it in the oven too long so it burned to a crisp and was nearly unidentifiable. Needless to say, I didn’t do very well on that project.

Why am I telling you this? Because look at Sean’s team. Does it look real good on paper? Sure. Does that mean he is likely going to win this week? Probably. But has his overconfidence blinded him into creating a team made of glass with absolutely no depth in a 16-team league? 67%, yes. (Because that is the grade I got on the project.)

Story to Watch: Alex Collins has become the running back equivalent of Hillary Swank. Hot or not? Stay tuned this week and find out…

You Guys Again vs. Johnson Ertz

The moment you’ve all been waiting for is here folks. I…..I can’t believe it’s finally happening. After almost two full years, the day has finally come. Dylan Feldman vs. Dylan Costa are facing off in a fantasy football matchup which I am officially dubbing “The Battle for the Right to be Called Dylan in the Fantasy Football League Group Chat” (and since we love our acronyms here, aka TB4TR2BCDITFFLGC). Two Dylans enter, only one Dylan leaves. This matchup is arguably one of the most important matchups we have ever seen in this league, and has a chance to change the history books forever.

Unfortunately for Dylan Costa, his squad isn’t exactly striking fear into anyone these days. I’ll have to go with Dylan Feldman, but his lineup has more red letters than Hester Prynne after an all weekend slumber party at Arthur Dimmesdale’s Dimmesdale Dimmahome.

Story to Watch: With the return of Aaron “I smoke Marijuana so Bowers thinks I’m a bad person” Jones coming back to Green Bay, Jamaal Williams’ usage should be monitored. As the kids say, he hasn’t been very good over the past two weeks, and Aaron Jones is ready to come in blazing *~!420!~*

Bearkley vs. Watch Me

Imagine my shock when I saw I won the bidding war for Ryan Fitzpatrick. I immediately rushed to find the owners of the Tampa Bay WRs so I could celebrate our good fortune as Fitzmagic showers us all with fantasy points. Now imagine my shock when I saw Samantha has benched Chris Godwin, not only a rookie (we all know my irrational hype with rookies), but a rookie whose name is lit a combination of God and Win. I don’t know about you, but doesn’t it feel like Samantha has renounced God and doesn’t want to win this week’s matchup?

On the flipside, Nico runs our Dungeons and Dragons group, and if the 80s taught me anything it’s don’t feed weird aliens after midnight, and that D&D is for devil worshipping heathens. With any hope of good Christian fun squandered for this matchup, it really is anybody’s game. I want to believe in the underdog, but more favorable matchups lead me to believe that Nico will pull out the W.

Story to Watch: Saquon Barkley caught 2 of 6 targets week 1 against the Jags. That number increased to 14 of 16 targets last week as Eli Manning completely lost interest in holding on to the football for more than 1 second. Is it possible that Saquon receives 28 targets this game as Eli Manning has to look JJ Watt and Jadaveon Clowney in the eyes?

Washington vs. Walshington

I want to take a second here and pour one out for Walsh, who didn’t answer my trade offer or my text message regarding Dalvin Cook and Allen Robinson. Walsh, you took an injury bullet for me and I will forever be grateful. It’s appropriate that I mention taking a bullet, because rumors have it Frank Gore was actually there when the first metal bullet was shot in 1425. Between Gore and Kerryon Johnson, Walsh will be lucky if he gets 14.25 points from his running backs this week.

Andy surprisingly continues to ride or die with Andrew Luck, despite Luck being unable to throw the football more than 15 yards. At this point I assume he is just taunting Arielle with Bortles on his bench, and we have to assume that if Bortles continues putting up 30 point games, eventually Andy might start him. The biggest story on this squad is how Andy managed to get two of the best big play boom or bust WRs with John Brown and Will Fuller, while also having Amari Cooper and Mike Evans. That’s a solid receiving core you got there pal, and I just want you to know I see it and appreciate it.

Story To Watch: C’mon, it’s Philip Lindsay. Every week it’s Philip Lindsay. Everyone loves a hometown hero and I have greatly enjoyed watching this kid ball out.

Bowers v Arielle

I’m high on Dylan Leone Arielle’s team this year. How could you not be? It was drafted by a man who has $45,000 in fantasy football great young woman who has shown her commitment to the league. For whatever reason, ESPN’s site stopped working just as I was going to look at this matchup, so unfortunately I am going to have to give an abridged write up of my pick. I have played these teams back to back so you would assume I know who is on their rosters, but I can’t remember anything other than Russell Wilson and James Conner on Arielle’s team, and Golden Tate and Kirk Cousins on Bowers’.

Based on this limited memory alone, I suppose I am going to pick Bowers in what will likely be another close matchup for the Reikland Reavers

Story to Watch: The story of life as I take this momentary absence from ESPN’s Fantasy Football to reflect on the finer things in the world. Like Yahoo Fantasy Football.

Jason v Harnsowl

ESPN is still not working for me, neither on my phone nor my computer, so I can’t really give much analysis here. However, not much analysis is needed. Unlike his godless sister, Jason is a man of faith. And if George Michaels taught us anything, it’s that you gotta have faith. You gotta have faith, faith, faith. Carson Wentz returns this week and I don’t care whoever Harnsowl is playing, it doesn’t really matter. I mean, as far as the matchup is concerned it might matter, but emotionally speaking, Jason has already won this week.

I can’t be expected to pick a winner in a matchup that already has a winner, so instead I’ll take this time to remind you to spay or neuter your pets. Bob Barker used to do a fantastic job of reminding the American people to do so, and if I am being completely honest I just don’t think Drew Carey delivers the message with the same panache. Like sure, I know Drew still says it at the end of the show, but does he really even believe it? Only Drew can really answer that question, but if I had to guess I would bet $100 $101 Drew. While we’re on the topic, if any of you ever manage to go on Price is Right and you do that thing where you bid one dollar higher than someone else did, you can consider our friendship over. Not only is it the worst strategy ever, it’s also rude as hell to the other contestant. In some cases I’m sure the people legitimately don’t know what to bet after someone else bet around the same thing they did, but for the love of God at least bet like $10 higher so there is some tension in the room.

But yeah, back to football, I pick Jason

Story to Watch: The next episode of Price is Right, Monday September 24th

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dantesunbreaker · 6 years

Text

Spectre & Toxin

@ruaniamh Here is my take on how Toxin and Spectre became friends. I drew a little inspiration from the doodle you made a while ago of them. Hope you enjoy it!

“It’s Toxin, right?” Spectre spots the British woman sitting with an open spot beside her on the helicopter as they all are returning from a mission. Spectre decides to eagerly plant herself right down beside her. “I’ve seen you around before, but I don’t think we’ve had the privilege to meet yet. I’m Spectre, or Quinn if we’re being casual.” Her words are punctuated with a soft giggle, smiling up at Toxin.

The sudden appearance of Spectre and her bubbling personality catches Toxin off guard, causing her jaw to nearly drop. Luckily with her gas mask still firmly in place it doesn’t read at all on her face. Only the slight widening of her crystal blue eyes shows anything to the outside world. Certainly she wasn’t expecting this when she boarded the helicopter after her mission. How could somebody still be so lively after an exhausting mission such as the one they just finished?

“Yes, my callsign is Toxin,” she looks at the lavender haired woman from the corner of her eyes, turning her head only enough to see her. “You can call me Imogen though. Lovely meeting ya,” she takes the time to offer her hand, shaking Spectre’s before turning back to face the other way.

At that, Toxin thinks it is the end of the conversation with the other woman, but oh is she so wrong about that. Spectre only seems encouraged at the response from Toxin. Moving closer, Spectre is nearly leaning against Toxin’s arm as she looks up at her.

“Oh that is such a beautifully unique name. I love it,” it seems like she begins to talk a mile a minute. “Where are you from? Where did you grow up? What made you join Rainbow Six?” Spectre keeps firing question after question, never actually giving Toxin the time to properly answer one before the next one comes. It sends Toxin’s head spinning a bit.

Only when the helicopter lands and everyone dispatches to grab their gear do the questions stop, allowing Toxin to quickly flee the scene. It doesn't appear that Spectre ever even noticed the awkwardness of the other woman. As far as she is aware, it was a very engaging conversation enjoyed by both of them. Spectre is left feeling that this is the budding of a new relationship that has the potential to be the best of friendships. Even if she is a bit more excitable and outgoing, and Toxin seems a bit more reserved Spectre is sure they will become good friends in no time.

It isn’t until a few weeks later that Spectre manages to cross paths with Toxin yet again. Both of them seem to be constantly jumping from mission to mission. When Spectre spots Toxin entering the kitchen still fully geared up as she returns to base for a long break this time, she gets a bit excited. Jumping from her seat, Spectre rushes up to the British woman. Toxin is a bit startled as she sees somebody hurtling towards her, but she quickly recognizes it as Spectre. With a sigh, she smashes down the instinct to run.

“Hey Imogen,” Spectre greets with a soft smile and giggle, lifting her finger to poke Toxin’s cheek. Since Toxin still has her gas mask on, she ends up just poking the hard plastic instead. This causes Toxin to pause once again to give the other woman a strange look. “Did you just get back from a mission?”

Taking off the mask and hooking it to one of the latches along her suit, Toxin turns towards the other woman. “Yes. Can I help ya, Quinn?” Toxin asks as she raises a rather inquisitive brow at her.

“Nope, I just wanted to come say hello,” Spectre smiles as she reaches up to poke her again, this time making contact with her actual skin. It seems she ignores the brief frown it causes. “Although I was hoping that we could maybe hang out. I would love to spend some time together.”

Frowning even further, Toxin turns to look away for a brief moment before looking back at Spectre again. ”You remind me a lot of my younger siblings. They always ask too many questions and never know when to leave somebody alone,” the tone of her voice is a bit strange. Spectre doesn’t know whether Toxin is angry, annoyed, or just upset. Either way, it brings a frown to Spectre’s usually smiling face.

“Oh… I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone then.”

Toxin’s hand is reaching to grasp Spectre’s arm just as she turns to walk away, halting her in spot. An almost pained look is on her face, and she seems a little upset with herself.

“That isn’t… That wasn’t meant to sound like a bad thing,” releasing Spectre’s arm, Toxin straightens out and scratches the back of her head awkwardly. “I’m sorry. Just I miss them a lot and you remind me so much of them. Would ya like to maybe go get lunch together? I would appreciate the company.” She gives a soft smile, and it looks genuine.

Instantly Spectre is smiling again, nodding as she reaches to take the arm that Toxin offers out to her. “Of course, I would love to have lunch with you!”

“Come on back to my quarters with me first?” Toxin asks a bit cautiously, hoping she doesn’t take it as something it isn’t. “I just need to change into something a bit more comfortable, then we can go wherever you would like.” Laughing, Spectre assures her that it is completely alright. There is no need to worry about offending her or making her think she is flirting, seeing as Spectre already knows about Toxin’s budding relationship with Smoke.

Their lunch together goes incredibly well, leaving both of them with aching guts and cheeks from all the smiling and laughing they do together. It seems that Spectre was right all along, because already they feel as if their friendship is growing so strong. But soon, a bit sooner than really expected, Spectre finds herself in a position where she feels the need to test the strength of their friendship. Her day goes horribly wrong, an unsuccessful mission that ends up being an utter failure. While it is a miracle that nobody was severely injured, it still leaves Spectre feeling down in the dumps. Normally she would go to Blitz for comfort, but all the GSG 9 operators are away on missions. Thus, Toxin is her next best option. It has only been a few weeks since their first lunch together, but Spectre feels as if she has nobody else to turn to in her time of need.

So Spectre finds herself awkwardly standing at the door to Toxin’s on-base apartment, arm half raised as she second guesses whether or not she should knock. Does she really want to appear weak in front of someone who seems so strong? Would Toxin be annoyed and think her even more childish? Spectre hopes that won’t be the case. If the roles were reversed, she would hope that Toxin would feel confident in coming to her for comfort and support. So Spectre continues to raise her fist and knocks gently on the door.

Much to the surprise of Spectre, Smoke is the one to answer the door, standing in the frame in his casual clothes. “Roach, what can…,” upon seeing the look of distress on Spectre’s face, his question cuts off and a look of concern seeps into his features.

“Is Imogen here?” the Brit is surprised by how defeated her voice sounds as she glances down at her feet. Smoke doesn’t know Spectre very well. But from what he has seen during the brief few times he has stuck around with Toxin when the two women were hanging out, he knows that she is usually very eccentric and out there. There is nothing energetic about the woman standing in front of him.

“Of course, come in,” Smoke steps aside and allows the Canadian woman to enter Toxin’s apartment. Knowing the setup, Spectre walks straight towards the couch where she spots Toxin reclining as she hears Smoke close the door.

At the noise, Toxin turns to give Smoke a questioning look, but when she spots Spectre standing there looking near miserable she frowns and jumps to her feet.

“Quinn, what’s wrong? Did somebody hurt you? I swear I’ll take care of ‘em,” Toxin is standing in front of Spectre in a matter of seconds, eyes worriedly scanning her over for any injuries as her hands go to rest on her shoulders.

Not wanting to pry on what could be a very private or emotional conversation, Smoke respectfully walks past the pair of women so that he can go sit in the bedroom. At the moment, Spectre is a little more important than whatever his plans were with Toxin.

“No, it was just a crappy mission,” Spectre sighs into Toxin’s shoulder as she is pulled in for a tight and comforting embrace. She responds in kind, looping her arms around the other woman’s waist. “Just feeling a bit like a failure, you know? Maybe if I had done things a little different we wouldn’t have lost the container.”

“No talking like that, alright?” Toxin pulls back just enough so that she can look in Spectre’s eyes, her gaze firm and intense. There is no arguing with her. “You aren’t a failure. Everyone has bad missions every now and again. Don’t worry about it.”

For a few more moments, the two women simply hold each other as Spectre tries to calm herself down. Toxin’s words have surprisingly really helped give her that little bit of a confidence boost. Nobody is ever perfect. She knows this already.

“How about we do something to take your mind off it? Do you like ice cream?” pulling away from the hug, Toxin gives a gentle smile as Spectre laughs with a swift nod of her head. “Come on, I know where Dominic keeps his stash of the good stuff. I’m sure he won’t mind. He owes me anyways.”

“Sounds great, lead away,” Spectre is almost back to her normal bubbly self as she moves to let Toxin lead them out. Just as they are about to leave the apartment, she remembers that she obviously had interrupted something though. “Oh Imogen, I’m so sorry. Did I ruin your date night?”

Chuckling, Toxin shakes her head. “It is fine, James really doesn’t mind. The rest of the boys were running extra miles on the track, and he didn’t want to join. But if you’d like, I can ask if he would like to join us for ice cream? There is always more than enough to go around.”

Spectre smiles again, giving her a nod of approval. It turns out that Bandit doesn’t actually hide his secret stash of luxury chocolate ice cream anywhere special. Instead he keeps it inside of a container that nobody would ever think to look inside. The two Brits and Spectre happily spend their night indulging themselves on the sweet chocolaty confection until Spectre’s mood improves and they are all feeling better.

“Thanks for being a good friend,” Spectre smiles as she wipes some chocolate from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve.

Toxin just chuckles as she leans against Smoke’s shoulder, who is still digging into his ice cream with vigor. “You aren’t just a friend, Quinn,” the British woman is still smiling. ”You are a sister. If you ever need anything, you can always come to me.”

#rainbow six siege #rainbow six siege fanfic #spectre #toxin #oc #r6s oc

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