#well... for years we’ve had a joke that’s literally just them bullying me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesolferino · 3 years

Text

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken angst #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken x y/n

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part One. George: the definition of “hello, have you met my friend?”

warnings: none word count: 1568 (not including pictures) *** Bugsy is Y/n’s username! I got too attached to change it to y/u/n so change it in your mind if you’d like :)

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Y/n sighed lightly as she set her phone on the desk in front of her. Her eyes traveled back to her monitor, where George was sharing his screen on Discord as he practiced speedruns. Y/n and Sapnap were on call with him to keep him company.

The cold air around her nipped at her skin, sending chills and bringing goosebumps. She pulled her hoodie closer to her body, tucking her feet on her chair to curl herself in a ball.

"This run sucks," George mumbled. "I thought it was going to be good."

"It would have if the village actually had anything useful," Sapnap commented. "There was a lava pool at spawn and everything."

"What do you think, Bugsy? Should I start over?"

She hummed, squinting at the screen. "Yeah, you should."

He left and started a new run.

"Karl's replies on Twitter are always so funny," Sapnap giggled after a few moments of silence. "He's so formal."

"I love that kid. That's my best friend right there, no cap," Y/n said with a smile. She and Karl had been friends for a few years now. They met through their parents being friends and shortly found out the other streamed and quickly bonded over that as their fanbases grew.

"Did you see Wilbur's response to your tweet?" Sapnap asked. "Man wrote you a letter."

"What did the tweets say?" George asked, half-listening as he focused on his run.

Sapnap read them and George laughed through his nose. "How could you ask for a Minecraft boyfriend while you're literally on a call with us while I'm playing Minecraft?"

"Just keeping my options open," Y/n laughed. "Don't worry, I'm wearing a GeorgeNotFound hoodie as we speak."

"I'd be worried, George. There are quite a few proposals in the responses."

"Shut up," Y/n muttered, a smile on her face that she was glad neither of them could see. "George, you remember my roommate is in love with you, right? Don't upset her by being jealous of boys coming after me."

"You're an idiot," George breathed out in a laugh. "No, she's not."

"She is. Very much."

"No, no, she isn't."

"George," Sapnap sighed dramatically. "Just accept that you can be loved."

"You're both idiots, okay?" George laughed awkwardly. "This seed is terrible," he groaned.

"Wait!" Sapnap yelled. "Village on the left!"

George quickly turned and ran towards the village to loot it. Y/n watched with Sapnap as George found iron and a few other valuable things.

"Oh! This might be okay."

"Bugsy?" Sapnap asked slowly, sounding confused.

"Sapnap?" she replied in the same tone.

"Have you not met Quackity?"

"No. What made you ask?"

"I just saw his response to your tweet."

"Why are you two on your phones? I'm speedrunning!"

"Because you still haven't made it to the nether on any of them," Sapnap bit. "How are you best friends with Karl and you haven't you met Quackity?"

"I dunno. I just haven't. There's a lot of people I have only spoken to through Twitter replies."

"Like who?" George asked.

"Why are we only talking about me?" Y/n asked in slight frustration. She wasn't fond of talking about herself because she wasn't used to it. "This is George's stream."

"Well, now I'm really curious so I wanna talk about this," George laughed. "Who haven't you met?"

"I dunno!" she said, flustered. "Quackity, Wilbur, Dream, Tubbo, Tomm-- wait, no I met Tommy. He yelled at me."

"Wait, wait, what?" Sapnap interrupted.

Y/n paused but neither of them said anything. "What?"

"You haven't met Dream?" George asked, sounding equally as confused.

No one said anything. "No? Why is that surprising. I mean, we've joked through tweets and stuff but I've never played with him or actually spoken to him."

"What about DMs and stuff?" George asked.

"Nope. Dream is just thirsty in my replies like Wilbur," she joked, feeling the anxiety of the awkward pauses seep through her skin and touch her bones. Why were they being so weird about it? "Why is that so shocking that a man with, like, 15 million subscribers has never spoken to me?"

Sapnap laughed. "I'm just genuinely surprised that he hasn't reached out to you before."

"Yeah, me too," George agreed. "He talks about you in a way I thought you guys were good friends. And you're friends with us so I just assumed you were friends with him too."

Y/n laughed, nervous at the mention of being talked about. "Well, he must be a pussy or something because I have yet to receive any acknowledgement from Dream Was Taken besides him occasionally replying to my tweets and Instagram pictures."

George laughed suddenly, making Y/n look at the monitor with George's screen quickly, which wasn't moving. "What happened? Did you find something?"

"No," George's screen began moving again and he started building a portal. "Dream just texted me because he's watching the stream."

"What did he say?" Sapnap asked.

"He said, 'can I join the call? I don't want Bugsy to think I'm a pussy'," George answered, lowering his voice to a mumble before adding, "And something else he'd probably kill me if I said out loud."

Sapnap and George laughed at Y/n's silence. She was only joking, not intending to challenge him to talk to her. Honestly, she was relieved he had never spoken to her because he intimidated her. Meeting people made her nervous and Dream was no different. If anything, he was worse because he was a big deal and he kinda flirted with her sometimes, which gave her butterflies in a way she didn't like.

"I'm adding him to call," George announced.

"Wait, you're not going to check if I'm okay with meeting him live in front of 80,000 people?" Y/n asked with a small, nervous laugh.

"No, because it's my stream. I can do what I want. I can't live another second knowing you two have never talked."

"I think Bugsy's scared!" Sapnap coeed.

"I think so too!"

"You wish," Y/n muttered.

A small sound emitted from Discord, notifying everyone that someone joined the voice chat.

"Hello Dreeaamm..." George dragged out as he navigated the nether. "I made it to the nether, Sapnap. Will you get off your phone now?"

"Yeah, I guess. Hi Dream!"

"Hello," Dream said casually. "Hello, Bugsy."

Y/n lowered in her chair more, pulling her hood up and closing it tight over her eyes. No one could see her but his voice made her feel seen.

Sapnap giggled and George laughed. Dream breathed out a laugh. Y/n responded with a small, "Hi."

"Bugsy, you're such a liar!" Sapnap called out. "You are so scared."

"Shut up, Sapnap!" she chuckled.

"Scared of what?" Dream asked innocently.

"Meeting you," George answered. Traitor.

"Forgive me," Y/n started, sitting up in her seat and pulling open her hood to watch George play, "for being nervous to meet Mr. Speedrun in front of a huge live audience." She decided to joke around to hopefully ease the nervousness under her skin. "I'm just worried he's going to flirt with me again and I'll have to embarrass him in front of everyone by rejecting him again."

They all laughed.

"I mean, you already said Karl was in the lead for being your Minecraft boyfriend, so I really have no shot," Dream said.

"As if I'm letting some girl named Bugsy steal my fiance!" Sapnap yelled.

"Ah!" The attention was ripped away from Y/n as George screamed. Y/n looked at the screen, watching as her friend was getting attacked by a hoard of zombie pigmen.

"Why did you hit one, George?" she teased.

"I didn't mean to! AHH!!" he screeched, making everyone laugh. "STOP ATTACKING ME!"

"George!" Dream laughed. "Just run, you won't be able to kill them all!"

"I'm trying!" George fell in lava and screamed again. His death appeared on the screen and Y/n could hear him slam his desk. "That run was so good until the zombie pig came out of nowhere."

He started a new run and it was quiet for a moment before Dream's soft voice spoke again. "Well, Bugsy. I hope you forgive me for taking so long to speak to you."

"I-I was just kidding about you being a pussy," she mumbled, making him laugh.

"No, it's true. I was."

"Come on, Dream, sliding in my DMs is easy," she joked. "You could have if you wanted to."

"Trust us," George laughed, "he wanted to."

"What?" Dream asked George loudly, making Sapnap laugh.

"Dream, you talk about her all the time. George and I were both led to believe you were already friends based on how you talk about her."

"How I talk about her? What does that mean?" Dream sounded defensive and it made Y/n smile.

"You're always like, 'Bugsy did this' and 'Bugsy tweeted that', and 'I have to do a face reveal before Bugsy does because she'll outshine me'," Sapnap teased.

"Okay, the last one? I never said that. You're lying about that."

"But the rest of it is true?" Y/n teased.

"Look, you play good and your tweets are funny! I didn't come on here to get bullied, oh my gosh."

**********

A/N: this is my first time attempting a social media fic so the theme of this series is gonna be ignore the number of likes/retweets and stuff just know that y/n is a much smaller streamer she only gets a lot of likes and stuff when it involves other mcyt ya know okay fun times

Please give feedback!! I hope you enjoy it!!! I don’t have a schedule right now but I might in the future if this series gets a lot of attention :) as of right now i’ll try to update at least once a week!

#real person fiction #rpf #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken x y/n #dream x y/n #dream x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #smau #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #dream social media fic

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

This Side of Normal Ch. 10

AO3

Marinette glances around the silent table, willing Jason to say something. Or do something. Or even Dick. She needed one of them to start a conversation, because Adrien hated awkward silences. And if this silence went on much longer, he was definitely going to say something and then she would regret it. Horribly.

“These rolls are purr-fect.” Adrien says, out of nowhere. Marinette lets out a groan, of course he’d skip straight ahead to the cat puns. Of course that’s where his freaking mind was tonight.

“Aren’t they? I’d say Alfred’s cooking is pretty claw-some, myself.” Dick speaks up, grinning at Adrien. Marinette looks at him, wide eyed.

“That’s it. I’ll find a new trapeze partner and a new best friend. Both of you are out of my life.” She deadpans, ignoring Adrien’s offended gasp.

“But Bugaboo, who else would give you a hand with your crazy schemes?” Adrien asks, and Marinette turns to him, narrowing her eyes.

“I swear to god if you take your arm off right now you will never find it again.” She threatens, pointing her fork at him from across the table.

“But Mari, that joke needs the arm. It doesn’t work without it.” He pouts, she rolls her eyes and turns to Damian.

“I apologize for him. He thinks he’s funny.” She says, turning her glance back at Adrien. “He’s wrong.”

“Tt. I’m unbothered by his sense of humor. I have lived with Grayson for eight years. His humor is nothing compared to those horrors.” Damian quips, and Marinette swears his lips almost quirk into a smile. She snorts.

“Guess I made the right choice in throwing Dick to the curb, huh?” She teases, ignoring Dick’s gasp and Adrien’s reassurance to the man. Honestly, who was the adult here?

“It was for the best, Dupain-Cheng.” Damian says and Marinette winces slightly. The only person who called her by her last name (in regular conversation, anyway) was Chloe. And while the girl had long since given up full on bullying her, she still wasn’t Marinette’s best friend in the world.

“You can call me Marinette, my last name is kind of a mouthful.” She says, trying to be nonchalant about it. She’d heard him refer to everyone else as their last name the entire evening. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but him calling her Dupain-Cheng was going to make her uncomfortable in the long run.

“Very well.” He says, and though he doesn’t say her name, she still counts it as a win. A throat clearing catches her attention and she glances at Jason who was glaring at Damian.

“What’s up, Jay?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Nothing Pixie Pop. Just thinking about the time you kicked the ass of that would be mugger.” He says, and Marinette frowns. Mugger? “You know, the one that was obsessed with you?” He clarifies, and she understands. Copycat had been reakumatized during Jason’s stay in Paris. And he had wanted nothing more than a date with Ladybug. Though, she couldn’t understand why he was bringing it up now.

“I am so lost.” She admits, shaking her head at her pseudo-brother. He grins.

“That’s fine, just sharing that you can kick ass with the table. In case someone wants to try something.” He says pointedly. Oh. He definitely caught the heart eyes she sent Damian back in the gym. Can he blame her, though? Her weakness was green eyes. And Damian’s were the greenest.

“I did walk in on you hogtied, Todd. I assumed she was a reputable fighter after that.” Damian says, and Marinette blushes furiously.

“I’m sorry, what happened?” Mr. Wayne asks, his vapid (and fake) smile replaced with a faux look of bewilderment. She briefly wondered if it was exhausting, putting on a constant act, until she remembered how tired she was throughout collège, before she started lycée and decided she didn’t really care. Yeah, acting constantly was tiring. But why did he do it? Jason nudges her lightly and she blinks, focusing back on the conversation.

“Oh, Jason and I sparred. He apparently had forgotten that I use my surroundings to my advantage and that Adrien is always on my side.” She explains, shooting Jason a smug smile. Jason huffs.

“Not always.” He says, and Marinette raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and giving him a challenging look.

“Oh really? Name one time that Adrien took your side instead of mine.” She challenges. She grins as Jason starts to think, obviously wracking his brain.

“Earlier today!” Adrien pipes up, and she immediately turns to him, glaring.

“What?” She asks, confused. What had- oh. Of fucking course. “That doesn’t count!” She protests, narrowing her eyes.

“Why not?” Adrien asks, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. She scoffs.

“Because it wasn’t a fight or argument or anything. It was a joke.” She says.

“Are you talking about the adoption shit, cause that was definitely not a joke. All the kids B adopts definitely have trauma and certain features.” Jason cuts in, and Marinette sighs. Of course he would clue in.

“But- no. No. That was a fluke. A glitch in the matrix, obviously. You literally cannot name a singular other time. And technically, ya big jerk, you didn’t even name this time. Adrien did.” Marinette points out, glaring at Jason.

“I’m sorry, how long have you three known each other?” Mr. Wayne cuts in again, and this time- this time- she sees that some of the confusion on his face is real. But it looks odd, like he wasn’t used to expressing a real emotion. She really needed to remind herself to talk to Jason about this later. She didn’t necessarily want to make it a habit to stick billionaire fathers with asshole tendencies in jail, but she would. She’d do it for her boys. Any day of the week. She hums in thought, adding up the time. The anniversary of Gabriel’s defeat had been a few weeks ago, which meant-

“We’ve known Jason for just over a year.” She says, before glancing at Adrien and grinning. “But I’ve been stuck with this goof for four years.”

“You know you love me.” Adrien says with a wide grin. She rolls her eyes.

“How exactly did you meet Jason?” Mr. Wayne asks, and she kind of wants to throw her fork at him. What was it, interrogate the random kids at dinner night? Though, to be fair, they were random kids in his house. But she refused to like the man until she’d talked to Jason about the potential assholeish tendencies.

“He helped me learn some self defence after I got caught up in an akuma attack.” Marinette lies smoothly. Well, it was technically a half truth. But the Waynes didn’t need to know that she was always caught up in akuma attacks.

“Akuma?” Mr. Wayne asks, and Marinette glances at Jason with a frown. Had he not told his father about anything? Not even the basics?

“Wait, is that what the thing that flooded Paris is called?” Dick asks suddenly and Marinette nearly flinches from the memory. That was one of the akumas that still gave her nightmares. One of the ones that was burned in the back of her eyelids when all she wanted was to sleep. And not think about bloated corpses and dead classmates for one goddamn minute. She lets out a steadying breath, glancing at Jason whose face had changed from annoyance to concern. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. She could talk about akumas. It was the past. Sure, she had refused all of the therapy options her parents gave her and Adrien, but she didn’t need it. She was fine.

“Yeah. Technically, her akumatized name was Siren. But, the general term for those attacks was ‘akuma’.” She says, gripping her fork a little tighter than necessary, grounding herself with Tikki’s reassuring nudges from inside her purse.

“There were more?” Dick asks, his eyes wide. Marinette glances at Jason and raises an eyebrow. Why had he not said anything? He’d been there for an entire month of Hawkmoth’s reign. He’d seen dozens of akuma attacks. Jason shrugs. Thank Jay. Super helpful.

“When you get down to it, there were probably hundreds if not thousands more. Some people, like Siren, were turned into the same akuma several times. Some people became a different akuma when they were akumatized again. I think it just depended on the person or their issue.” Marinette explains, hating how dry her mouth felt all of a sudden. She could talk about this. She could. So why was everything a little too bright? Why was the sound of forks against plates a little too loud?

“Did the Justice League stop it?” Damian asks, though by his tone, he seems to already know the answer. Odd.

“No, the local heroes did. Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Marinette says, ignoring the constricting feeling in her chest.

“Why-” Mr. Wayne starts, but Jason clears his throat. Everyone glances at him, and Marinette is unsurprised to see the flicker of anger in his eyes. Especially after she glances at Adrien and sees how pale he’s gotten. She kicks him lightly under the table to get his attention, frowning at him in a silent question. He nods, slightly. She purses her lips, not believing for a second that he was actually okay. But they could talk later. Away from eager ears.

“I’m sure you remember what Dick said about my phone call from when I first arrived in Paris. Marinette and Adrien dealt with attacks like that interrupting their day to day lives from thirteen to sixteen. I get that you’re not the best at knowing when to drop the damn topic, but I really think you should drop the damn topic.” Jason says, and though he’s smiling, Marinette can see the danger behind it. The warning. ‘Drop it, or I’ll make you’.

“My apologies, it was just so interesting.” Mr. Wayne says and this time Marinette winces at the falseness in his voice. And the smile on his face. God, this man could not have lasted a day in Hawkmoth’s Paris.

---

Finally, finally, dinner was over. After the akuma talk ceased, it was extremely awkward. Mr. Wayne looked like he would rather be anywhere else. And Marinette couldn’t blame him, wanting nothing more than to get back to her hotel room and away from the constant lack of real emotion on the eldest Wayne’s face. It was tiresome, just watching him.

“Thanks again, for having us.” Marinette says, mostly directing her comment to Dick and Alfred. Alfred just nods.

“Of course! Come back any time. Really soon, actually, so we can work more on the trapeze. I can’t lose my new trapeze buddy.” Dick says with a wide smile. Marinette holds back a sigh, nodding instead. She liked Dick, she did. But she’d definitely have to make sure that Mr. Wayne wouldn’t be around. She still wasn’t sure what to think of him.

“You should also spar with me, some time.” Damian speaks up and Marinette blinks in surprise.

“Spar. With...you?” She says, tilting her head in confusion. That came out of nowhere.

“Yes. You took down Todd easily, and I am far superior. You would actually have a challenge if we sparred.” He says. She smirks, and suddenly, with a burst of confidence she didn’t know she had, says:

“Sure thing, Pretty boy.” Before turning and walking straight out the door. The second she’s outside, she drops her head into her hands. “I can’t believe I just said that.” She mumbles under her breath.

“Pretty boy?” Adrien says with a smirk, she glares at him and moves down the front steps.

“Fuck you.” She says, no real venom in her voice. The boy knew how she got around crushes. He’d seen it firsthand. With him. With Luka. With Kagami. With the girl with bright green eyes who worked at the coffee shop across the street from the bakery. She was an absolute disaster. He was worse, but still. He wasn’t the one with the quickly developing crush on the youngest Wayne.

“Pretty boy?” Jason asks, a scowl on his face as he catches up to the two.

“Not another word, Jason.” She scowls at him, crossing her arms defiantly. He holds his hands up in surrender.

“Sure.” He says. Her mind rushes suddenly to her previous thought. Youngest Wayne. Damian Wayne. Hadn’t Lila- she snorts, before erupting into uncontrollable laughter, ignoring the worried looks from Adrien.

“I- oh my god, Jay.” She manages to say, straightening up and following Jason to the car he was borrowing to drive them back to the hotel.

“I’m completely lost.” He says.

“Join the club.” Adrien adds, and Marinette just laughs again.

“Your little brother is Damian Wayne.” She says, as if it should be obvious. Jason doesn’t get it, and neither does Adrien. But after a moment-

“Oh my god, that’s hilarious!” Adrien cries, letting out a chuckle. Jason huffs as the trio get into the car.

“Care to share with the class?” He asks, and Marinette snorts.

“Absolutely not, I dislike the majority of those people.” She says, referring to the group who was hopefully already in their rooms and not in the lobby of the hotel. “Now it’s funny that your brother is Damian Wayne because Lila made us come to Gotham instead of New York and London, because she’s dating him.” She explains and Jason scoffs.

“Yeah right.”

“Obviously she’s not actually dating him, Jay. But it’s freaking hilarious that she thinks she’s gonna get away with it. He definitely goes to Gotham Academy, and people are definitely going to call her out.” She says, not even trying to hide the absolute glee she’s feeling. If there was ever a time for all of Lila’s lies to come crashing down around her, now would be good. When she can’t just run away and claim Marinette set it up. If people Marinette didn’t even know called Lila out, well, that would be irrefutable evidence, right?

“Her regime is gonna topple and I’m gonna take you guys out for ice cream to celebrate.” Jason declares and Marinette laughs again. She was so against the idea of Gotham originally, but now, with Jason at their sides again, she’d decided that it wasn’t so bad. Suddenly remembering what had been on her mind most of the night, she turns to Jason.

“Jay, I have a serious question. And I know it’s a little hard to talk about but just know that we’re here for you to support you, and that we’ll figure out a way to make sure you and your brothers are safe and-”

“Whoa, Pix, calm down kiddo. You’re rambling again.” He says gently, furrowing his eyebrows. He pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to put his full attention on the two. “What’s bothering you?” He asks.

“Is Mr. Wayne abusive?” She asks and Jason blinks. “I saw how hesitant you were to call him your father, and you were tense around him a lot of the night. And I don’t think the man had one legitimate expression all night. He was acting the whole time.” Marinette says, looking at him worriedly. “Look, Jay, I don’t necessarily want to make a habit of putting billionaires in jail, but I’d do it for you.”

“Is he- you would-” Jason stops and lets out a breath, obviously trying to compose himself. “No, kiddo, he’s not.” He finally says. Marinette frowns.

“Really?” She asks, and he sighs.

“Yeah, look. Our relationship has been...rough, for a couple years. We had a sort of falling out when I was a teenager and I stopped talking to him for several years. We reconnected a while ago, but it’s still rocky at times. I don’t usually call him dad or father or anything. He’s just Bruce, or B, to me.” Jason explains and Marinette nods, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“I was worried, Jay.” She admits, and Jason grins at her before pulling away from the curb again.

“I didn’t even catch on.” Adrien says with a frown. Marinette rolls her eyes, smiling at him with fondness.

“Course you didn’t Kitty. Reading people isn’t really your strong suit.” She says with a small smile. He huffs, but nods in agreement.

“True.” He says and Marinette laughs. She could officially take Bruce Wayne off her ‘threat to be dealt with immediately’ list and move him to ‘possible future annoyance’ list. A big improvement for the man, and it would mean she wouldn’t be as tense around him the next time she saw him.

Tag list: @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat @queenz-z @daminette-56

#daminette #maribat #maribat fanfiction #ao3fic #platonic jasonette #maribat platonic adrienette #platonic maribat adrienette #damian x marinette #maribat damian wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat jason todd #maribat dick grayson #This Side of Normal

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balillee · 3 years

Text

my unpopular dsmp opinions, some of which genuinely should be popular

c!dream has crossed the moral event horizon and is irredeemable. once you cross that threshold, you're no longer a 'morally grey' character.

pre-recorded, heavily produced lore killed the lore. it was cool, sure, but you completely misunderstand the magic that the smp had when people watched it initially. the story is improv and that's how we like it. we can tell the cc's have lost interest in it, you can admit that to us, we'll understand, just stop lying to me.

c!dream's pov isn't necessary to understand his character or his motivations. if you've watched literally any c!primeboys stream he's basically spelled it out for you.

i don't understand how fans can dislike l'manberg or have claimed to be against it since the beginning. i honestly don't get it. what's so bad about wanting your own spot where you make your own rules and skirt accountability that has been used to technically oppress you before - and, before someone who never saw the earlier streams tries to disagree with this, the og l'manberg crew were imprisoned for shit that everyone else on the server was practically encouraged to do. also, what do you have against fun and happiness?

i think some of you forget that 'hybrids' aren't a thing, discounting c!ranboo. there's no piglin hybrids, c!techno is just a pig. there's no avian hybrids, c!phil is just a man with wings. there's no creeper hybrids, c!sam is just a creeper who's indecently exposed from the hips down. canonically there's no hybrids, and therefore no hybrid discrimination. people ran with that concept too much.

the loss and the fanon rewriting of the early lore up until pogtopia has ruined fandom perception of c!dream and the og l'manberg boys. c!tommy is more morally white than you think he is, and c!dream has always been a villain - he massacres and he kills and he destroys and he schemes and he always has broken his own rules. no wonder the boys wanted their own space after how they were treated.

i think ranboo oftentimes forgets his own lore. he brings stuff up that c!ranboo may have done, such as exploding the community house to frame c!tommy, holding onto Cat, and it goes absolutely nowhere. we've gotten all of these developments in his story but they have never been expanded on, and we're nowhere closer to figuring out his relationship to c!dream and what his other side is and honestly i see no hope that we'll be any closer to knowing even by the end of the year.

your characters don't all have to be morally grey for the story itself to be morally grey. this is fiction - some people can be nothing but evil and others can be nothing but good. being purely good or evil doesn't mean that you're one dimensional, either.

c!dream apologists have ruined c!dream for me. he's not a good person. how about you let me enjoy a villain for who he actually is, rather for than your percieved woobified ragdoll you pass off as c!dream.

the story was better when there was a central writer. it was brilliant back when wilbur wrote it to be that the environment drives the characters and the story, and it was really good in early s2 up until techno's execution day when it was more character driven. since then, the amount of autonomy people have over their characters without any central 'director', as it were, has been a detriment to the story overall. there needs to still be one overarching figure or director or writer.

not everyone is a main character. just because they have a pov, doesn't mean they're a main character. some characters have such little impact on the overall plot and describing everyone as a main character oversaturates the story and makes some characters seem more important than they are.

the egg lore had so much potential up until it didn't. all that built up threat that we were expecting and we still don't even know what the egg wants really other than just controlling people. does it hatch?

genuinely, if there's no major plot developments by the end of the year (and let's be honest, it's a very big possibility at this point), a few of the more prominent members of the server should do a podcast style stream talking about where the story would have gone, because at least then we would have gotten somewhat closer to a conclusion.

c!techno is a villain and an asshole and a bad person. he stops caring for people once their interests don't align with his or if they look at him funny. he makes meta-jokes about his own tyrannical and oppressive nature. stop taking that away from him. he's a bad person. cc!techno does a fabulous job portraying that in a comedic manner and the balancing of him being a deeply flawed person with deeply flawed morals and ideas with his comedically-portrayed stubbornness and lack of willingness to hear out opposing viewpoints is incredible. i want to like characters who are arseholes for the sake of being arseholes, and who refuse to take into account the hurt they've caused either out of self-righteousness or because they don't care, so let me. he's the anti-peacemaker, LET ME HIM ENJOY HIM FOR THAT!!!!

i think tommy and wilbur's way of doing lore is my favourite. relies heavily on improv, voice acting, sprite acting and facial expressions. really shows off the acting props and they pull off the emotional moments well for the insanity of the creative medium.

i'm not a fan of fan-music. i find songs about media i'm into difficult to listen to. coincidentally i'm also not a fan of shit like slam poetry or live music/musicals/pantomimes.

the death of l'manberg killed people's motivation to go on the server casually. i've talked about it more in depth before, but destroying what was a central, driving environment for the story killed momentum and motivation. imagine in an episode of she-ra, the princess alliance just nuke the freight zone and all of the members of the horde just have to deal with it. that would be shit.

until season 3 has some momentum, i'm counting the end of the smp as january 20th. that had a conclusion. season 3 has... whores, technoblade and tommyinnit. that's about it.

i wasn't a fan of the development of c!tubbo joining las nevadas. i preferred snowchester and the walled city conflict. give c!tubbo some backbone and some badassery. also tubbo where's the fucking nuke bro if you're shelving that plotline just tell us on like an alt stream what the plan was i beg

add like 2 or 3 new people to the server so that michael mcchill has someone to talk to and so that there's something always happening on the server. it gives the og's more motivation to return if things are happening in and out of canon and it'll help with momentum, and who knows? maybe they can write their own story/stories.

i really think that c!sam is an underrated character. he's multilayered, extremely interesting, and the dichotomy of his loyalty to his job and how far down the rabbithole that's taken him versus the genuine love he has for his friends that drives him to do what he does out of wanting to do right by them is brilliant. i don't talk about c!sam enough.

STOP HAVING FUCKING VILLAIN ARCS!!! I'M FUCKIN SICK OF IT!!!! i want to see more characters who see everyone else being absolute selfish, abhorrent cunts and go 'if nobody else is going to be a good person, i fucking will'. GIVE ME SOME MORAL WHITENESS!!! IT'S INTERESTING AND MORALLY GOOD CHARACTERS ARE FUN!!!

let tommyinnit build cobblestone towers. everyone bullied him too much for how ugly they were and the one he built outside of the prison looked genuinely really nice. it gives the boy something to do.

i'm a fan of the revive book and the canon lives system. don't ask me why, but i think it might just be the morbidity of it. it adds to c!dream's god complex persona, and i think the fragility of death itself is a really fun concept. not enough fan cc's have made connections with that and c!mumza, and it could make for cool fanfic.

ranboo your house is fucking ugly. it's an eyesore

c!niki, and to some extent now c!jack and c!fundy, are boring me and ruining my mood. i think c!jack is the closest to being an actually interesting sympathetic villain, mainly because nobody else seems to realise that c!niki is a villain. not a good one imo, but she's a villain. c!jack just has the problem of starting a new project over and over and over and over again and because of the slow in momentum for the primary cast, there hasn't been a lot of recent development for him.

not really a dream smp opinion, but if philza went full geordie accent, i would love it. i want him to, in canon, say shit like 'me n ye' instead of 'me and you' and use geordie dialect. i want him to be physically unintelligible because it's funny.

i don't really know what's up with c!foolish but i think he's a dumbass. he had a while to think about c!q's proposal and then changed his mind about joining the guy to admitted to letting him die just because. moron

i wish there was more c!eret lore. i wish he was an actual king with an actual kingdom and actual subjects and royal advisors. c!eret is far too fucking cool to be the king of nothing and nobody. fatten up the kingdom and the castle with people who work with c!eret, and don't just make it tyrannical and dictator-y to prove the point of the server's 'anarchists'. make it a healthy working environment, please - if you want moral greyness, have 'anarchists' who claim to care about the welfare of the server oppose a kingdom of happy people under a fair and just ruler because their ideologies clash.

the server needs more characters who oppose anarchy in more peaceful ways, or passively wish for systems to be a part of. i think a chaos vs order conflict ending only in mutual understanding where everyone understands that they should just leave each other alone would slot nicely into the story that's been created so far.

you need to have watched all of the previous arcs to understand the story. i've seen people argue that they don't need to know about earlier lore to understand the prison, but that's the equivalent of only watching the final season of pretty little liars and expecting to understand the context of what's going on.

some characters aren't that morally grey. some characters, take c!tommy for example, are definitely on the whiter side for the morality scale, he's just an asshole. he's abrasive and rude and a dickhead but he also doesn't agree with terrorism, he's patriotic, he strives for a better world, he's apologetic, but he's also a fucking BITCH.

you can add onto this if you want, but not if you're a c!dream apologist. nobody likes your opinions

#dream smp #dsmp #esclaposhitpost

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

So happy together (Spencer Reid / Reader)

Summary: Spencer bumps into an old annoying classmate, who brags about his perfect family, and Reader decides to pretend to be Spencer’s wife to shut him up.

Warnings: As fluffy as you can get

Word count: 2,3K

Part II

Masterlist

It wasn’t strange that Spencer and (Y/N) spent their free time together when they weren’t on a case. Their job at the BAU left them just a few weekends off, and though they were all day on each other’s faces at work, they loved going out whenever the opportunity arose.

It might have been related to the fact they were best friends.

Also to the fact they were in love, but neither of them had still said a word about it.

Years had passed. Years. Morgan and Penelope were going nuts waiting for them to confess their feelings, but though they had literally pushed them together - once they were “accidentally” locked in a supply closet of the BAU for two hours- nothing had happened yet.

Even Hotch was annoyed. He was happy Spencer had someone he loved around him, but all Aaron wanted to tell him was:

- “You have to act on your feelings before it’s too late, ‘cos you never know what will happen tomorrow, not just in this job, but in life. Take what makes you happy and keep it close”.

Of course, the day he tried to talk to Reid, all Hotch managed to say was: “Tell (Y/N) wheels up in thirty” and that was it, but he was planning on giving the kid a speech about love, as soon as he got a chance.

Then again, when did he have time to do anything besides work?

It was Saturday, and Spencer was taking a calm walk in a park with (Y/N). She had promised Mrs. Sanders from 307B she was going to take Lizzy - her five years old corgi - out to play for a while, ‘cos it was making the old woman insane. Mrs. Sanders was the only neighbor (Y/N) actually talked to…. mostly ‘cos she was never long enough in her house to meet the rest of them. (Y/N) took her dog for walks as often as she could, and the old lady always baked her brownies and cookies for her “and her boyfriend”

- “Your boyfriend is too skinny, take him these and tell him you made them for him, men love when a woman cooks for them”- the old lady smiled and gave (Y/N) a tray with freshly made cookies- “And tell him to cut his hair, he looks scruffy”.

(Y/N) never told her otherwise, a part of her loved the idea of Spencer being her boyfriend…. and besides, it would be rude to break an old woman’s heart. Right?

- “Do you want an ice cream?”- Reid asked her and took her from her thoughts.

- “Yes! I need sugar ‘cos I’m so tired I’m gonna fall asleep standing here”- Lizzy barked at them and left her ball on the ground- “You on the other hand, never get tired, do you?”- the young woman threw the ball.

- “Go fetch, baby!!”

Spencer walked to the ice cream truck and got her a chocolate chip cookie dough cone - he didn’t even need to ask- and a mint chocolate chip for himself. He stared at her playing with Lizzy and for a second, he imagined she was actually his girlfriend, and they were spending their day off together, walking their dog, eating ice cream, holding hands. It was perfect in his mind.

- “Here”- he gave her her cone and smiled. (Y/N) was about to thank him when a stranger’s voice stopped her.

- “Spencer!! long time no see! how are you?”- a man stood next to them, he was maybe five years older than them, tall, good looking, he was carrying a little girl in his arms, and holding a woman’s hand tight. She was pregnant and smiling happily. It was the portrait of a perfect family.

- “Carl, hey, hello, how are you?”- Reid was surprised to see him, it had been years since he had seen his old classmate, and he could have lived a long happy life if he hadn’t seen him again.

Carl wasn’t really nice. He wasn’t mean, or a bully, or anything like that. He was just… an asshole sometimes. He was always bragging about everything he had: grades, cars, girls, anything you might think of. Spencer always thought it was because he needed to be validated over and over again as an alfa male, which wasn’t really his problem. But still, after hearing him for years when he was younger, Reid had enough of him.

- “It’s so weird to find you here, I thought you would still have your nose buried in books like you always did on weekends!”- Carl laughed at his own joke, and Reid just nodded, with an awkward smile.

- “No, I… sometimes I go out now”- that was all he managed to say

- “This is my wife, Andrea, and our little angel, Anna, she is three… and Carl Jr is on his way”

- “Nice to meet you”- Spencer waved and couldn’t even introduce (Y/N), ‘cos Carl continued talking.

- “Can you believe I got married? I always said I was never going to settle down and here I am! with a happy family! you should come and visit us! We just bought this fantastic house outside town, with a big yard and lots of space for the kids to run and play!”

(Y/N) stared at Carl and bit her tongue. She had heard about him a lot in the last few years. Spencer told her all about the classmate who kept telling him about the dates he had with the girls he wanted to ask out. And all the fun he had at the parties he wasn’t invited to. And how he managed to always make him feel smaller, though he didn’t actually mean to. Sometimes people can’t help being assholes.

- “And who is your friend?”- the assumption (Y/N) was his friend and not his girlfriend (although it was actually accurate, that was another problem) made Reid’s blood boil. Why couldn’t he have a pretty girlfriend too?

- “Hi! I’m (Y/N), Spencer’s wife”- she waved and smiled- “Sorry I can’t shake your hand”- she added and showed them the dog toy she was holding, and the ice cream cone.

- “Come here Lizzy! come here!”- the dog sat next to her and (Y/N) pet her sweetly.

- “Wife! man! I never thought you had it in you”- Carl didn’t realize he was an ass, he didn’t mean to, but that didn’t stop him.

Spencer just smiled, and in what seemed to be the boldest move he had ever made, he wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s waist and moved her a little closer to him.

- “Yes, we’ve been married for two years already”- she added, resting her head against his arm, feeling her stomach tighten. Spencer’s perfume was all around her, and she loved it. Besides, the fact he was now holding her close was killing her. Literally, she could feel she was about to have a heart attack, and it was completely worth it. It took her a few seconds to realize her ice cream was melting in her hands.

- “Shit!”- she jumped and moved from her “husband” to clean herself.

- “Here”- Carl’s wife handed her some baby wipes and looked at her hands for a second- “Did you lose your ring?”- shit, Andrea was nosy and annoying, just like her hubby.

- “I usually won’t wear it playing with the dog, or at work”- lies came out of (Y/N)’s lips as easy as breathing- “You know… we are both FBI, and you don’t know when someone might actually take advantage of any kind of information they have about you”

- “FBI? you?”- Spencer looked at Carl and sighed. Right, he wasn’t done teasing him yet.

- “Yes, I’ve been working at the BAU for the last couple of years, profiling serial killers”- Reid made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, and (Y/N) decided it was time to brag a little.

- “Honey, don’t be so modest, you are the best profiler, we are the only team with a Doctor in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering”- and Reid blushed- “Besides, you joined the FBI when you were 22 years old”- (Y/N) smiled and looked at Carl- “Did you know he is the youngest SSA the bureau had ever have? there was no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace inside of an hour”

Carl looked at Reid and nodded, trying to find something to say.

- “That’s great, I’ve got my own law firm by the way, in case you ever get in trouble”- he joked and looked at (Y/N)- “Or in case you want to divorce him ‘cos he ignores you over books”

- “I could never! did you know he has saved around 352 lives in the last two years? he actually got the FBI Medal for Meritorious Achievement a few months ago… I am so proud”- (Y/N) leaned in and kissed Spencer’s cheek. He looked at her blushing and just smiled.

- “You look adorable”- Andrea finally said- “It’s like you just started dating!”

- “Well, we have to go”- Carl didn’t manage being overshadowed very well- “It was very nice to see you, Spencer”

- “Same! take care, nice to meet you, Andrea”- Reid waved and smiled. (Y/N) did the same and kept eating her ice cream.

- “I hate him”- she whispered as soon as they were far enough not to listen- “I’m so glad we didn’t invite them to our wedding”- Reid laughed and shook his head

- “You didn’t have to do that”

- “Nah, I wanted to”- she really did- “He was being a jerk, just like you told me he was”

- “He doesn’t mean to… I think”

- “Well, he got what he deserved”- (Y/N) felt Spencer’s eyes on her, looking at her in adoration.

- “Thank you, buttercup”- and she giggled

- “You are very welcome, honey bunny…”- and the silence seemed to last for ages until Lizzy started barking.

(Y/N) smiled and looked away from him, knowing she was blushing. She really loved that nickname, and he didn’t call her by it as often as she would like. She grabbed the dog toy from the ground and threw it to Lizzy, who ran immediately.

- “Mrs. Sanders made you cookies”- she said after a few minutes- “But she said I had to tell you I baked them for you, ‘cos that what’s girlfriend’s do to get men’s hearts”- Reid’s cheeks were still red, and those words didn’t make it better- “But considering we are already married, I guess I don’t have to do that anymore”.

They both laughed and then, stayed quiet again. Reid could hear Rossi’s voice yelling in the back of his head “Ask the girl out, for crying out loud”, but he couldn’t even open his mouth, petrified.

(Y/N) finished her ice cream, watching Lizzy playing with other dogs, and sighed. They were standing side by side, both looking ahead.

- “We should head back”

- “Doyouwannagooutwithme?”

The slur of words was so fast, not even Spencer understood what he had just said. But (Y/N) did. She stood next to him feeling her knees shaking, as well as her hands. It had happened. It had finally happened. In her head, she was screaming “YES, OF COURSE I WANT TO”, but her lips weren’t moving, and Reid was starting to panic. Maybe Morgan was wrong, and (Y/N) did like him that way. Maybe he had just ruined the best friendship he had ever had. Shit! what had he done.

- “I mean, I understand if you…”- but she didn’t let him finish

- “Yes, I do”- that was really all she could process. And he didn’t know what to say next. There was no random fact to kill the silence, they would always have a lot to talk about, but that time they were speechless.

- “Tomorrow?”- he managed to whisper

- “Ok”- she nodded as the two of them kept looking at Lizzy

- “I’ll pick you up for dinner”- Spencer’s voice was so soft he was scared it was going to shake and embarrass him (he was already embarrassed, but he didn’t want to make it worst).

- “Sounds good”- (Y/N) slowly turned her head and looked at him, nearly holding her breath. Her best friend finally asked her out. The best friend she had been in love with for years had just asked her out on a date. And all she managed to say was:

- “So… do you want a cookie?”

- “Sure…”- he nodded and smiled. (Y/N) called Lizzy and put on her leash. Gave Spencer the paper bag with homemade cookies she carried in her purse and smiled.

- “Did you know Christmas cookies date back to Medieval Europe?”- and there it was, Spencer’s random fact of the day, just on time to kill the silence when they were about to reach (Y/N)’s apartment.

- “Really?”

- “Yeah, the traditional Christmas flavors, like cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger, became very popular, and those are exactly the same spices medieval cooks would have used in their cookies ages ago”

- “I love Christmas cookies”

- “I know”- he smiled and looked at her- You bake them all year long

- “I can’t help it, they are too good”- she giggled and stood outside her building door. They just stared and smiled, Lizzy trying to get (Y/N)’s attention rubbing her head against her leg.

- “I’ll see you tomorrow then”- Spencer blushed at the hint of their date and (Y/N) nodded

- “See you tomorrow”- and neither of them moved. Lizzy barked again and forced (Y/N) to wave and open the door. Spencer just stood there for a second, staring at the empty space in front of him where (Y/N) was standing a few seconds ago, and suddenly, it all sank in.

- “What the fuck did I just do?”

#Spencer reid #matthew Gray Gubler #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #david rossi #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #fluff #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #dr spencer reid #babymetaldoll writes

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jonnnysuh · 3 years

Text

could we get along with svt in real life?

A collaborative series by @vernonsnostrils and me (Nala)!

A/N: Lately Bee and I have been doing daily rankings for fun and we decided to share our very very specific and dumb insights with all of you. For this one we're ranking who we think could tolerate us......... <3 Warning: Dumb info ahead

NALA:

13.Wonwoo – looks scary. I also have a rbf so imagine us together omg. Everyone would think we’re vampires. No one would want to be friends with us so we’d only have each other.

12.Woozi – I feel like I know nothing about him :-( He’s an amazing musician, and does come off as a little tiny bit mischievous. I feel like Woozi is the type of guy I have every class with but then we graduate never saying a word to each other.

11. Jun – I think Jun is funny as hell but he’s so quiet. I’d want to be his friend but I wouldn’t know how to approach him. Everyone loves him tho so he has his pick of friends and it does not include me LMAO

10. Jeonghan – (this one kind of doesn't make sense bc he should be higher on the list,, but also?? i'm the one who made this list so fite me) but I think that me and him are pretty similar. We both have a side that’s devious and wants to create havoc but we’re also the mom friend that takes care of everyone and with that I feel like we’d butt heads/ be the designated parents which is EW I am 20 years old,, I'm no one's mommy YUCK.

9. Joshua – he’s also quiet but I know he has a good sense of humour!!!! Hypes up my bad ideas bc he’s not involved -- but he will be giving me a thumbs up in the sidelines. I feel like he’s the type to make me text the guy I have a crush on “Just do it. What do you have to lose?” UM my dignity??? Tf Josh.

8.DK – The human version of a “pick-me-up” He is so “no thoughts, head empty” and I am too. Let’s go cloud watching !!!!!!!!! Let’s pick flowers !!!! A good friend to text on a bad day bc he will literally tell you the most embarrassing thing that happened to him, and even though you’ve heard it before it’ll still make you laugh.

7. The8 – simple, really. He likes art and I love art. He likes fashion, I like fashion. I feel like we could talk shit together LMAO. He has the most specific roasts but they’re always on point. I need someone who’s a little bit mean in my life <3

6. Mingyu – I know I could bully him jokingly and he’d take it (bc he knows I’m joking) but it wouldn’t stop him from pouting a bit. I feel like he’d be scared of me at first LMAO. We both share the hobby of photography so my ideal day out with him is just wandering around with cameras and taking pics of things we think are beautiful. Also forcing each other to pose in front of a dirty brick wall bc “IT LOOKS COOL, TRUST ME.” “WAIT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO POSE THO” and then he’d literally have to mold me into a good pose bc I am Play-doh

5. Vernon – The calm to my crazy, convinces me not to beat someone’s ass. Walks into my room to say nothing else but “Spaghetti” and then leaves quietly. Doesn’t talk to me for 5 months but will send me a meme at 5am bc it reminded him of an inside joke we had. Live-texts his emotions to me while watching tv shows, and shares new conspiracy theories with me. He’s a little bit too chill, I need someone ready to fuck shit up.

4. S Coups – is reliable and gives good advice bc he’s also a ball of anxiety. Nags me to do the right thing. Messes with me a lot. Would stay on the phone with me if I was home alone and told him I heard a noise. Says “Calm down there’s no one there.” BUT he’d also say shit like “check under your bed”

3. Seungkwan– I feel like we’re just as annoying as each other. He has the biggest heart and is super encouraging and thoughtful. Half the time we’re joking around, and the other half we’re fighting. Very much love-hate. Capricorns and virgos are a superior duo. I said it.

2. Hoshi– all round good vibes. Chaos and Loudness matched. Doesn’t always have to be around a lot of people bc he creates the fun when it’s just us two. The kind of friend I practice flirting on and everyone’s like ??? “You’re in love with him” no bro I’m just bored… we just do this kind of shit and he is IMMUNE to my lovey antics by now.

1.Dino– We bully each other a lot but we also have each other’s backs. Definitely not ride or dies tho bc we will tell each other when the other fucked up. We are sarcastic dumb dumbs and that’s why we like each other. I feel like he would only tell me how much he cares about me on my birthday.

BEE:

13. mingyu – i literally don’t know what i would say to mingyu. “tall man” or “what up big boy.” i would be scared of him until someone taught me how not to be. like i gotta hang out with him in a group setting for three months straight until i can say hi to him when i enter a room. if i saw him i would simply just Not See Him.

12. wonwoo – like mingyu i don’t know if i’d have anything to say to him. him and mingyu both have popular high school boy personalities and that scares me.

11. josh – besides being californian, i don’t know if we’d have anything to talk about outside of in n out and traffic. he’s too pretty for me.

10. The8 – i feel like we’ve been over this for me. he’s too intellectual and polite i wouldn’t have much to say to him. but i feel like we could talk good shit about other people.

9. jun – i think i get along well with people with quiet funny personalities. like the kind where you don’t have to necessarily say anything but look at them and they’re telling you what they’re thinking. he knows that i know. so he kept reacting and looking at me. i think it’d take a while to develop a friendship though.

8. jeonghan – i wanna cause chaos with jeonghan. i want to do lots of things with jeonghan i feel like he would give me piggyback rides while sliding with his socks on the floor. he would tease me and i would be offended for five minutes while he pretends to tell me he’s sorry (he’s not).

7. dino – dino and i would be like twins building a sandcastle on the beach. that’s our vibe. like the kids you meet on vacation and play pirates with at the pool. relegated to the kids table kind of vibe.

6. scoups – he’s like the type to play catch with the stuffed animal in the room while we sit on the floor and chat. like he just arrived and is asking me about my day and picks it up from my bed and we throw it around while talking.

5. seungkwan – i think seungkwan and i could sit and talk outside on the patio when the stars are bright. like we could sit outside and stare out at the stars while i talk about my biggest dreams and don’t even need to see him to know that he thinks the world of me

4. hoshi – i see a lot of face masks. hoshi teaches me how to dance while they rest on our faces, but they keep sliding off because we’re laughing too hard. he has immaculate vibes, like the type to say “here for a good time not for a long time” but it’s an absolute lie because he’s there for both.

3. woozi – although i like to joke that he’s an evil little man, i think we could talk a lot about music and he would be very happy to teach me what he knows, and we’d spend a lot of time developing ideas and growing together.

2. vernon – he has the personality of my irl best friend, like a slightly chaotic aquarius who is horrendously hard to reach like 99% of the time. he’s the kind of guy who would try to make dinner but end up fucking it up so horribly that when i come in it’s like smoky and awful and the fire alarm is going off, so i have to air out the apartment and go get takeout and bring it home to my burned smelling apartment and eat it on the floor of the living room while binge watching a new netflix show.

1. dk – i just love the kind of joy and energy he radiates, like would be excited to do anything at all if it’s with me. would love to accompany me on any task if i just asked, like getting ice cream at 10pm and he’d know exactly what kind of flavor he’d get so it could accompany mine well when we inevitably switched halfway through the cone. saves the bottom of the cone, the chocolate tip, for me because he knows it’s my favorite.

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dracosaurusrex · 3 years

Text

Take a Chance (Draco x Reader)

Summary: In which Draco is forced to come to terms with his behavior when he meets a girl much different than him.

Wordcount: 5.2k

Genre: Mostly fluff; slight angst; mutual pining

A/N: Happy New Year! I’ve been working on several fics lately, but this one was too tempting to resist. Like, I would think about it as I write my other drafts haha. Anyway, I hope you like it! Any feedback is much appreciated :D

Witches and wizards alike flitted across the skies as sounds of the blazing crowds consumed the quidditch pitch. The feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins fueled Draco’s senses. His mind, alert. His body, in sync. His eyes were peeled for the prized speck of gold. After several minutes of patrolling the air above, he sees it, and without a second to spare, he dives. Frigid wind angrily brushes against his platinum locks as he cuts through the sky--his focus now at an all time high. The sudden change in movement grabs the attention of the opposing team, and their seeker dived in just as fast, trailing behind the flash of green robes. Draco pressed onward, pulling his body inward to increase the acceleration--the snitch now within finger’s length. Within a spur of a second the two players collide, sending the boy flying off of his broomstick to fall freely towards the earth beneath him. The sky's the last thing that occupies his vision before it turns black. His body came into contact with the ground.

It was when he opened his eyes that he sees her. The girl with long, flowy locks was dressed in her Slytherin uniform, tending to the other seeker in the hospital wing. Despite the soreness that filled his body, he kept his gaze locked on her, observing her fluid motions as she addressed sustained wounds and injuries. She’s beautiful.

Draco witnesses Madame Pomfrey tapping the girl’s shoulder before gesturing to him. The moment she meets his gaze, a small smile appears on her face; and the boy, albeit the pain, makes the effort to cast one in return. His heart flutters as she approaches him--only worsening the closer she gets.

“Hi,” She says sweetly, “I don’t think we’ve formally met. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’ll be taking care of you while you’re here.” She reaches her hand out towards him. He looks at her straight before firmly gripping it.

“Draco Malfoy, but you probably knew that already.” She laughs before pointing at her green and silver tie.

“Very much so. Can you sit up?” The boy winces in pain at his attempt to do so. Taking notice of this, the girl steps closer to his side.

“Here let me help you.” Y/N cautiously snakes an arm around his back, and gently lifts him upward. In doing so, he takes in her scent--it consisted of dark chocolate and citrus. The palms that were wrapped firmly around his shoulder loosen as she pulls a chair to the bed. She takes a seat and grabs the clipboard that was placed on the nightstand.

“Do you feel pain anywhere?” The boy thought about pulling a pick up line then and there, but abandoned the thought immediately.

“Just soreness everywhere.” He looked at her as she jotted his information down. She then tears her gaze from it momentarily.

“Can you rate it on a scale from 1-10?”

“Probably an 8.” Her gaze fixated on the board once again. Draco admired the serenity that framed her features. The light that was casted from the window shines down on her, wrapping her in an angelic aura.

“I’m going to take your pulse now, okay?” Cold, slender fingers wrap around his wrist, gripping it gently as she takes two other fingers and presses it to the base of his palm. As she counts in her mind, the boy takes initiative to engage in conversation.

“Why haven’t I seen you before?” She takes a moment to respond, writing down his info on the chart. After she finishes, she tucks her hair behind her ear and faces him.

“You’re a year above me.” She states simply.

“Surely I would’ve seen you in the common room though.”

“Perhaps, but I spend a lot of time here in the wing. That explains why.”

“Why do you spend your time here?” He ignores the pain he feels when he leans on his elbow, and towards her. She rubs her chin in thought.

“Call it training if you will. I want to be a healer.”

“That’s quite the ambition.”

“We Slytherins have pride in becoming something great, do we not? What better way than to take the opportunity now?” The attraction the boy felt only grew at the sound of her words. She flashed him a smile as she stood up.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me?” He asked with slight disappointment in his tone. Its sound stirred some interest in Y/N. With her back turned, she bit her lip before reassuring him.

“I’m just getting your potion, Malfoy. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” She says before walking towards the front of the hall. The boy enjoys the energy she gives off, and allows his sights to linger on her as she plods through the aisles. He watches as she reaches for a vial from the shelf, proceeding to the way she dutifully writes down information on what seems to be a logbook. The girl catches his gaze, and grins slightly. The longer he lays on the hospital bed, under her care, the more he longs to remain there.

Y/N situates herself by his side again, handing the vial to the boy.

“You came in with your tibia and rib fractured, and your forearm broken. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey was able to tend to you right away. The potion is to ease the pain. It’s recommended that you rest after you take it. You’ll be able to leave tomorrow morning.” Draco opens the vial and gulps down the fluid before making a face of disgust. The way his face contorts induces the girl into laughter. She proceeds to hand him a cup of water in exchange for the vial in his grasp.

“You must’ve had a nasty fall. I’ll leave you to rest now.” Just as soon as she turns, the boy frantically grabs her wrist.

“Will you be around tomorrow morning?” He asks. She glances down at his hand, but his grip remains.

“Tomorrow is actually my free day.” Her voice held a certain timidness, heat swarmed her head, and her heart fluttered. “Why do you ask?”

Upon realization that his grip lingered much longer than it should have, he pulls away stammering, “N-no reason. I was just wondering.”

“I’ll be in the common room if you need anything.” She states.

“I’ll see you there then.” She nods before flashing one last grin, leaving the boy alone to rest.

Draco awakens the following morning, with thoughts immediately drifting to the fourth year that he encountered the night before. With his body slightly aching and a noticeable urgency in his step, he approaches the dungeons, and slips into the Slytherin common room with hopes to see Y/N. When he does, however, disappointment greets him in the form of another boy occupying the space next to her. Books are laid out in front of them, leading him to assume that he was a fourth year as well. He can’t help but stare from afar. Not only did she seem diligent in her healing duties, but she seemed as equally so when it came to her studies. The sound of her melodic laugh overtakes his hearing, while the sight of her smiling induces his heart to palpitate abnormally—merely wishing that it was him in the place of the boy.

Before he could do anything, a firm arm wraps around his shoulder. Standing next to him was his good friend, Blaise.

“Did Madam Pomfrey fix you up well, mate?” He asks. In attempts to get her attention, Draco responds with a volume slightly louder than normal.

“If it weren’t for her, I’d probably be dead right now.” He was exaggerating, but it was enough to get her to face him. Blaise chuckled and shook his head.

“Dramatic as always, but at least you’re well.”

Y/N kept her sights locked on the boy, noticing how his friends started pooling in. Suddenly, he was surrounded by those she knew as Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and Daphne Greengrass--all who were her upperclassmen by a year. They showed him concern, asking what parts of his body were in pain, laughing when they made jokes, and patted his back with reassurance that the next match will be better. She looks at them with longing, wishing she could be as close to the boy in that moment.

Draco meets her gaze, and softens his own. He gives her a soft smile, reducing her stomach into mush. She responds to him with one herself. Warmth fills both hearts as the moment ensues, however the sounds of his friends voices and the presence of a hand waving in front of her face pull the two back into their respective years.

“Y/N, what are you looking at?” Her best friend, Malachi, asks her. He needed help with charms--nothing more, nothing less. The boy follows her line of vision, tracing it back to the platinum-haired boy.

“Malfoy? He’s a fifth year, isn't he? Do you fancy him?” He asked a little too loudly for comfort. Y/N frantically placed her hand over his mouth, and threw him a glare.

“Shut up, Mal! You’ll be the death of me!” She expresses her disdain with a slap to his shoulder, to which he responds with a wince. The boy grips the area and furrows his brows at the girl.

“Isn’t he a bully, though? I get he’s quite a stunner, but why would you, out of all people, like someone so foul?” He wasn’t wrong. Draco had a notorious reputation for picking on others, but memories from their interactions tell her that there’s more to him than what others think.

“I can’t even say I like him--I literally only interacted with him yesterday. Pull your head out of the gutter.”

“You do like him, or at least you’re mildly attracted to him. It’s written all over your face, Y/L/N.” He said teasingly.

“Stop it before I use you to practice my hexing charms.” The girl grabs her wand as a way to hoax him. He laughs again before raising his arms in defeat.

“Fine, but with the way he’s looking at you, I’d say he’s mildly attracted to you too.” The warmth from Y/N’s heart fills her face, while her hands grow clammy. When she looks up, she begins to understand what Malachi was saying, because Draco was staring at her from where he was standing. Unbeknownst to her, the boy beside her packs his belongings silently, gaining her attention only when his chair screeches.

“Where are you going?” She asks.

“Mel is waiting for me in the courtyard. I promised we’d talk about her boy problems too.” He winks at her, eliciting imaginary steam from her head.

“I-I don’t have any boy problems!” It was her turn to speak in a tone much louder than what was acceptably normal, gaining the attention of the students around her. One of them being Draco himself. Malachi laughs at the girl before ruffling her hair.

“See you, Y/N!” The girl rubs her temples in frustration as she waves the boy away.

“Idiot.” She mutters under her breath. Her mind is swamped with ideas to get back at her friend that she doesn’t notice him approaching her. Draco sits across from her, taking note of the way her quill was aggressively dragged along her roll of parchment. It amuses him seeing her riled up. Her face was scrunched in annoyance, and her cheek was planted on the surface of her palm.

“Pleasant morning, Y/L/N?” The sudden sound of his voice startles her.

“Very much so. Weren’t you with your friends?” She asks. Her sights juggled between him and the words in her text.

“I was. They went to breakfast.”

“You should eat also. You need to replenish your body from yesterday’s fall.” Y/N places her quill down, clasped her hands together, and looked at him with a knowing look in her eye.

“I would’ve, except I couldn’t help but overhear someone going on about their boy problems.” Draco leans forward with a mischievous expression. He raises his eyebrows at the girl, while

A coy smirk spreads across his lips. She merely rolls her eyes in response.

“I don’t have any boy problems. My friend was being a git.” She stated in matter-of-fact. Concern then took over, and she remembered the boy’s fragile state.

“In all seriousness though, how are you feeling? Do you feel any pain anywhere?” Draco, too, dropped his flirtatious facade at the sound of her voice. The expression held in her eyes elicited nervousness from him as they looked directly into his.

“I’m doing fine,” He pauses, “A little sore, but I’m fine.” The boy settled in a more serious state and leaned into his seat.

Feeling a little brave, Y/N reached for his hand, which was propped on the table and lightly squeezed it. Her touch tingled his senses.

“I’m glad you’re alright. I can get you another vial if you’d like.” She says. A gentle tone fills her voice and she gives him yet another bright smile. He shakes his head--his lips pulling into a genuine grin.

“Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll be needing it.” She nods and retracts her grip. A comfortable silence ensues as she resumes her studies. The boy admires her from his seat. She has the same focused expression that she had when she tended to him the night before. Hair that fell to her face was tucked behind her ear. Her fingers mindlessly spun her quill as she read. She wasn’t actively trying to get his attention, but somehow that was all he could give her.

“Y/N,” He calls out.

“Yes?”

“I think you’d make a wonderful healer.” The comment makes her face bloom into a bright expression. Within a few moments, she reaches into her bag. Out comes a green apple, which she then places in front of the boy.

“Thank you. With best intentions for you in mind, here’s an apple for your consumption.” He chuckles and takes it.

“Healer’s orders.”

Weeks go by since their first interaction. Due to the differences in their years, there isn’t much that goes on between them during the day (to Draco’s dismay). Y/N, although keeping herself occupied, finds that her thoughts drift to the boy from time to time as well. There are several things that irk her, however: the arrogant pride that comes out when with others, and the bullying. A gut-wrenching distaste sat within her every instance that she witnessed it, and the way he treats her in contrast to others is appalling. Therefore, she takes advantage of the distance. It doesn’t deny the butterflies that erupt in her stomach when she sees him, but it allows her to stay true to her morals and values, giving her some peace of mind.

In the midst of all her emotions, she finds herself sitting in potions, listening into Snape’s lecture on the Calming Draught. It was used for calming individuals suffering from shock or trauma, and was a substance commonly found in the hospital wing. The subject itself was something that Y/N desired to excel in, however there have been plenty of moments where she’s seen struggling. Taking note of this, Snape decides to request the assistance from one of the upperclassmen to tutor her. The class session for fourth years takes place during the later half of the day, and by then most fifth years have a study hall to utilize for OWLs review. Without much knowledge about her predicament, Draco walks into the classroom with disinterest painted on his face, and approaches the professor.

“Mr. Malfoy, glad to see you could make it.”

“Of course, professor.” Snape senses the hint of the begrudging tone in his voice.

“Ms. Y/L/N, please come up to the front.” The boy’s heart races at the sound of her last name. There’s a shift in energy almost immediately, as she’s seen walking towards the two. Her eyes widen at the sight of the familiar boy, moreover at the realization that he may very much be the tutor Snape was referring to.

“Draco, it’s nice to see you.” She says politely. He nods in response.

“It seems you’re already familiar with each other? Good. Y/L/N, you’re dismissed. Mr. Malfoy will be responsible for tutoring you from this point forward.” The boy waits for her at the entrance of the room while she collects her belongings. Another set of butterflies erupt, and nervousness racks her insides. She purposefully takes her time as she moves towards the door. Draco lightly grins when he sees her.

“I didn’t know you were good in potions.” She says.

“Let me surprise you then.”

The pair slowly made their way to the library, discussing things that have happened since the last time they spoke. The boy had been busy studying for his OWLs while Y/N spent her time in the hospital wing as always. It was a funny feeling, really--the ease that came when engaging in conversation. The fact that he was indeed a bully went past her head the more they spoke. In such little time, she learned new things about him, like the way he nodded when he paid attention to her speak, the way he’d fumble with the rings on his fingers, and the way he spoke with expressive hand gestures. He was boisterous and animated, and not too shabby in contrast to the moments when ill-formed words poured out of his mouth.

“So what role does lavender play in this concoction?” The boy sat with her textbook in hand, quizzing the girl on the brewing process for Calming Draught. He glanced at the girl who was deep in thought.

“It’s calming to aches and an agent for relaxation, is it not?”

“Perfect.” Relief overcomes Y/N, and the comfort she feels around him increases.

“Draco, you’re taking your OWLs this year. What do you plan on doing after you graduate?” He takes a while to respond. It wasn’t something he thought about all the time.

“Perhaps something close to Alchemy. I’m good with potions, so probably something within that realm.” The girl stared in awe.

“What’s with the look?” A scowl found its way to his face while he fiddled with the pages of her book.

“I think it’s really cool. I never would’ve expected.”

“And why’s that? I’ll have you know I’m very capable.” Y/N sensed a defensive tone in his voice. Nevertheless, she approached her response with much caution.

“Well,” She hesitated, “I don’t see you often, and when I do it’s mostly when you’re picking on others.” She lowered her volume towards the end of her sentence. The boy quirked a brow upward.

“And how does that impact my abilities to excel?” She actively avoided his gaze.

“I’m not saying it does, but it’s not like I know what goes on in that mind of yours either.” The boy softened the tension in his facial features. She was nervous, and he didn’t realize how much her opinion mattered to him until that moment. A small knot began to form in his stomach.

“Well what goes on in your mind when that happens?” He leans forward, interested in what she had to say.

“I would think, ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’” She said honestly. The frown on his lips deepened, the knot that had formed only grew bigger, and he glanced anywhere except her. How was he supposed to respond? The differences between them felt greater than what it seemed. Without much thought, he silently closed the book and shifted it to her. With the feeling of defeat overcoming him, he lifts himself from his seat and leaves.

The action alerts the girl right away. With her heartbeat elevated and her eyes widened, she frantically shoves her books in her bag, and trails after him in a brisk walk. She catches sight of the platinum-haired boy, and quickens her pace. With much urgency, she grabs his wrist, panting at the amount of energy she just spent trying to meet him.

“Draco, why’d you leave? Is there something wrong?” Y/N’s grip remained unwavering as he turned to her, exposing the shame that filled his eyes. Without meaning to make himself any more vulnerable, he faces away.

“You can’t just walk away like that and expect me to pay no mind.” She says.

“I don’t think you should be seen with someone like me Y/L/N.”

“What are you talking about? You’re my tutor. I-”

“But I’m also a prick. You have your values, I have mine,” He scans her from head to toe, “I’m not exactly your definition of good.”

“Draco, I don’t understand why that would matter. You’re my tu-”

“Are you really that daft?” His sudden outburst shocked her.

“I like you, Y/N. Your damn opinion matters to me, but I don’t exactly fare well with others in comparison to you.” The girl stood there in shock. With her mind processing his declaration, she couldn’t find the proper words to form a coherent sentence. Draco shifted his view to her hand that remained wrapped around his wrist. Disappointed at her lack of response, he shook it off and trudged away.

To be quite frank, Y/N didn’t know exactly what to feel. Surely, the boy crossed her mind here and there, and it wasn’t wrong to say that she enjoyed his company, but why would he like a fourth year like her? Wouldn’t it be more logical for him to like someone who had more in common with him?

Three weeks had passed since their last encounter. The girl tried her very best to understand what Snape was lecturing about, so she wouldn’t have to be tutored by the boy. Besides, it wasn’t like he was making the effort to face her either. Whenever he’d enter the common room, he wouldn’t even look at her (at least that’s what she thought). The boy would take a seat with his friends, join in conversation, and laugh along as if the feelings he had for the younger was nonexistent. Perhaps that was the reality of the situation. It shouldn’t bother her--she didn’t want it to--but it did. She found herself cursing the day she tended to him. If only she had taken leave earlier, then he wouldn’t have known about her, and all of these feelings would’ve been avoided. At the same time, it was bliss talking to him--it felt natural. She was comfortable around him, and he believed in her ability to succeed. Yet, the barrier found within their differences managed to convince her to keep her feelings suppressed.

“Earth to Y/N, what the heck is going on with you?” Y/N finds herself stuck tutoring Malachi in charms yet again.

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

“You’ve been dozing off for a while now.”

“Oh, have I? I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

“Clearly. You’re normally so focused. Did something happen recently?” As if on cue, Draco enters the common room, eyes meeting hers for a second before they shift elsewhere. She feels pain slowly creeping into her chest.

“Nothing, really,” She lies, “If it’s alright with you, I’m going to head to the hospital wing.” Malachi nods his head, and helps her from her seat.

“Can you make it there by yourself?” He asks. She nods before giving a weak smile.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.” Draco witnesses the interaction from the sofas located in the center of the room. Jealousy arises at the sight of her friend lifting her, patting her back, and sharing her smile. At the same time, however, her dazed expression fills him with worry. His sight follows the girl as she walks past him, not bothering to spare him a glance. Malachi notices this, and approaches him as soon as she leaves the room.

“Malfoy, may I have a word with you?” His confrontation sparks the attention of the group of fifth years surrounding him.

“Anything you have to say to him, you can say to us. Spit it.” Pansy spews aggressively.

“Easy now, Pans.” Draco lifts himself from his seat, “Let’s take this outside.” The two situate themselves in the halls of the dungeon, keeping silent for a short while.

“Is this about Y/N?” Draco asks.

“You can’t fool me, Malfoy—I see how you look at her. She’s not okay, and as her friend, I want to know what happened.” The demand in his tone kindled a slight annoyance in the boy’s gut.

“Nothing happened, and I can assure you that if she wanted you to know, then she would’ve told you already.”

“Merlin, don’t you notice the way she looks at you?” The tension in Malachi’s voice grew.

“What do you mean?” The previous question took Draco by shock.

“For two smart individuals, you both are incredibly daft.” A scowl appeared yet again on Draco’s face, however the other boy remains firm.

“If the reason behind the way you look at her is exactly what I think, then all I can say is that she thinks about you too.” The way he framed his words made Draco’s heart beat. He releases the tightness in his face, allowing himself to express more gentleness at the thought of Y/N.

Malachi continues, “Y/N has a logical way of thinking. With her head wrapped around her goals, how could she not? Her mind is constantly fixated on the next step and its consequences, so much so that she doesn’t allow her heart to decide.” The rosy feeling ignited within his chest once again.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you two are pining like idiots.” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Besides, I’m sure there’s a softy under that bully we all know.”

“Shove off git.”

“Pleasure.” Malachi retreats to the common room, leaving Draco alone in the hall. He chuckles softly before setting off to find Y/N. As he navigates his way through the halls and corridors, his thoughts drift to the way she responded in the past. Would he be able to handle it if she reacts the same way? When the boy finds her, she’s seen in the hospital wing organizing potion vials—her focus was completely locked onto her work. Once he’s in front of her, he clears his throat.

“Excuse me, can I have a vial of Calming Draught?” The familiar voice causes the girl to freeze in place. With much hesitation, she looks up at him.

“You need a referral, Malfoy.” She returns to her duties, but the boy doesn’t leave.

“Then is it alright if I can lay down here? I don’t feel too well.” Y/N glares at him.

“Should I hex myself then?” The boy pushes his luck, eliciting a sigh from the girl.

“What are you doing here, Draco?” The boy sits himself on the bed nearest to the counter she’s stationed in.

“I wasn’t feeling well. I’m feeling pain.” Y/N glances over to Madame Pomfrey, who’s occupied with other students. With a softened glance, she turns to Draco.

“Where does it hurt?” She asks. He points to his heart. “Right here.” The girl couldn’t help but let out a laugh, making him beam in response.

“Don’t waste my time, Malfoy.” She suppressed a smile and rolled her eyes.

“Time with you is time well spent.” Heat rises to her face before she releases a groan of frustration followed by a fit of giggles. She grabs his wrist and pulls him into a secluded hallway.

“Care to explain to me why you’re here? For real this time?” Draco’s face turns serious as he scans her eyes. Her body was close to his, arms crossed over her chest, and her face pointed up at him to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” the girl raises her eyebrows in response, prompting him to continue.

“I shouldn’t have left you the way I did.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I like you, and the opinion you have of me matters.” The boy stumbles over his words, “I’m a git, and you’re the exact opposite. You’re diligent, you’re smart, you’re considerate, you’re ambitious,” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “You deserve someone who has a better reputation than I do—someone who can help you.”

Y/N’s arms fell to her sides, her heart rate ramped up with its beats wildly pounding against her chest.

“I’m sorry too.” She says softly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did,” she smiled weakly, “I knew I liked you also, Draco. I have for a while now. I was afraid of taking a chance—that our differences would somehow come between us, and drag us down.” The boy cherished the way she referred to their relationship with an “us”. It was as though they were already in this together. Furthermore, he closed his eyes in relief before opening them once more to face her. Without any warning, he snakes his arms around her waist and brings her into a close embrace.

“Surely we can work something out, right?” He asks. The depth of his voice induces goosebumps to rise on her skin. With hesitation, she trails her fingers up his forearms before resting her palms on his biceps. Her chest overflows with rosiness and warmth.

“I think we can.” She presses her ear to his heart, taking in the sounds of his rapid heart beats.

“You’ll give me a chance?” He parts from her, hands still lingering on her waist, his face slowly and mindlessly leaning in.

“Only if you give me one too.” The gaze she holds shifts to his lips and back to his silvery orbs. Draco notices this, and lowers himself even closer to her. She can feel the shape of his lips ghosting over hers.

“What are you waiting for? Kiss-” The boy doesn’t hesitate to cut her off, pressing his lips gently on her own. He closes his eyes, and allows himself to memorize the feeling of her mouth. He then tightens his embrace, pressing her body flushed against his. The girl, in turn, steps on her tiptoes, and wraps her arms around his neck, bringing him even closer and deepening the kiss. Sparse breaths were taken in between, only to be disturbed by the reunion of their lips—each time becoming more passionate than the last. Draco lifts one of his hands to her cheek, dragging his thumb along her cheek bones, while she takes the liberty to run her fingers through his hair. The longing that has accumulated throughout the weeks poured throughout the duration of the kiss each caressed one another with gentle, affectionate intent.

“Does your heart still hurt?” She asks before pressing her lips on his again.

“I think I’ve been healed.” He responds briefly, and plants another one with him smiling into it.

“Good.”

A/N: Thank you once again for reading! I’m going to try to post my other fics asap! School is starting up again, so I’ll try to find a way to adjust, although I can’t guarantee I’ll be posting as much :D Nevertheless, I’ll try my best; I appreciate you all and the support you give! I hope you have a great New Year!

Tags C:

@beiahadid @hahee154hq @mushi98 @stretchyice @dracosathenaeum @dreaming-about-fanfictions @saby06143 @rottenhexrt

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #slytherin imagines

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alienheartattack · 3 years

Text

Sweet Revenge (Inexorable AU)

Word Count: 2260 words

Rating: E. They fuck. It’s dope. Don’t read if you’re underage or have objections to explicit adult content.

Summary: Levi and Mikasa have a feud at the school bake sale and decide to get revenge on their PTA nemesis.

Notes: For non-US readers, PTA stands for parent-teacher association, where parents volunteer at their children’s schools to get involved in the school’s activities and influence the quality of their child’s education, usually through fundraisers and other events.

This story takes place 8-9 years after the events of Inexorable and about 2 years after the events of the other Inexorable AU fics, A Scream in the Night and A Minor Dispute About Rain. The only thing you really need to know if you haven’t read those is that Levi and Mikasa have a daughter named Anya, who is basically a grumpy mini Levi, in addition to Hana.

The only thing keeping Levi from running after the PTA president and giving her a hefty piece of his mind is Mikasa’s grip, firm and insistent, on the hem of his sweater.

“You’re going to stretch it out,” Levi snaps at his wife, redirecting his ire at the closest target. Mikasa idly caresses the swell of her belly with one hand and looks at him with one eyebrow raised, silently asking if he wants to argue with his pregnant wife in public.

“I’ll let you go when I’m confident you’re not going to track Joanne down and scream in her face,” she says calmly. “As much as I’d like to see that.”

“She fucking begged us to help out at this bake sale and now she’s just gonna call our lemon bars basic?! We’re not goddamn pastry chefs!”

“Levi, listen to yourself. You sound legitimately insane.”

He sighs, letting his shoulders drop as the tension and rage starts to leave his body. Mikasa releases his sweater and he collapses into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. She joins him, gingerly lowering herself onto the uncomfortable metal folding chair provided by the school.

“I hate this so much. I hate Joanne, I hate being on the PTA, and I absolutely fucking hate bake sales,” he huffs.

"Well, we’re stuck here for the evening. I don’t want to be here either but I’m trying to make the most of it. Mikasa picks up a lemon bar and takes a huge bite. "Besides, fuck Joanne. These are good.”

Levi motions for Mikasa to give him a bite. “Fuck Joanne,” he agrees through a mouthful of pastry and curd.

Thankfully business picks up after that, and Levi and Mikasa spend the next half hour handing out lemon bars to parents and kids, ignoring Joanne hovering around them and observing their dealings with a disdainful eye. When the rush clears, she slowly approaches their table, pretending to be browsing. They both clock her gaze drifting over their mostly empty dish of lemon bars and the small twitch at the corner of her mouth that telegraphs her dissatisfaction with the Ackermans’ success. Triumphant, they share a brief glance, another silent Fuck Joanne.

To their dismay, she approaches Mikasa, staring at her oversized t-shirt dress. “Bun in the oven,” Joanne reads, her cold eyes sweeping over the looped script printed across Mikasa’s abdomen, decorated with a drawing of a smiling roll baking away. “Oh, you’re pregnant, sweetie! Congratulations!” There’s sweetness in her voice, but it’s tinged with venom. Mikasa knows it all too well.

“Thanks,” she mutters, bracing herself for the backhanded part of Joanne’s compliment.

“I thought you’d just let yourself go, but it’s a blessing instead! What a relief!” She laughs uproariously at her own joke. Levi jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans, balling them into tight fists so Joanne can’t see how enraged he is. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Mikasa does not answer, instead focusing her energy on keeping a straight face while she contemplates murder. Levi can sense her tensing up, her shoulders stiffening, fury radiating from her body in waves.

“It’s a boy,” he cuts in curtly. “We’ve already got our two girls.”

“Your oldest isn’t—” Joanne’s voice drops to a near-whisper— “yours, though, is she?”

Levi narrows his eyes, no longer interested in hiding his annoyance. “She’s mine. I’ve helped raise her since she was a baby.”

“Oh, how sweet. What a modern family,” she gushes, cooing with an edge of condescension in her voice. “Well, congratulations.” She then turns and walks off, conveniently waving to someone across the room.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks Mikasa in a low voice once Joanne is out of earshot. Mikasa stares after her, eyes black with rage, her breath hissing through clenched teeth. She doesn’t need to say anything; he already knows the answer is no.

He places a reassuring hand on the back of her neck, massaging her nape the way she does to him when he’s stressed and ranting. “Tell you what, I’ll go out to the car and grab something sharp, we slice Joanne’s Achilles tendons and then get the hell out of here.”

“What? No!” She looks over at him, her expression disgusted and exasperated. “You have to stop watching gore movies with Hana. She’s barely ten.”

“She loves them! We were watching some zombie bullshit the other day and that little monster laughed while watching a guy get his guts ripped out and eaten. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna grow up to be a serial killer.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “Well, if she is, she gets it from Eren’s side of the family.” Even though he’s still angry on his wife’s behalf, Levi can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Fucking Joanne,” he grumbles. “If zombies ate her guts they’d spit them back out. Her kid’s an asshole, too.” Mikasa is well aware of that fact: Joanne’s son tried bullying Anya at the beginning of the school year, calling her a midget and pulling her hair until she had enough and whacked him in the face with her math textbook. That was Levi and Mikasa’s first run-in with Joanne before they joined the PTA, and things have only gone downhill since.

A few more kids approach the table, hesitant due to Levi’s scowl; Mikasa shutters her anger behind a calm facade and handles the sales, though she doesn’t say much.

When the latest wave of customers leaves, she turns to her husband. “I think I have an idea to make both of us feel better.”

A look of skepticism crosses his face. “Really? I was kinda hoping for that severed Achilles tendon.”

Mikasa facepalms; she’s had years to grow accustomed to her husband’s awkwardness and his awful jokes, but sometimes he still manages to surprise her. Ironically it only makes her love him more, this odd, cranky man who might literally kill for her.

“Joanne parked next to us, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, remember? I said her car looks like the physical embodiment of vaginal dryness and you laughed so hard you peed a little.”

“You really didn’t have to mention that last part.”

“I dunno, it gives the story flavor. Pee flavor.”

“Look, I have an idea. Get someone to take the rest of the lemon bars, then meet me in the parking lot. If anyone asks, I’m not feeling well and you need to take me home.”

Levi sighs. “What are you planning?”

Mikasa leans in close to him, her lips millimeters from his ear. “Meet me outside and you’ll see,” she purrs.

Five minutes later he bursts through the metal doors at the back of the school to see her sitting on the hood of Joanne’s car, an aggressively beige sedan.

“Come here,” she beckons him. He approaches her and, when he is within reach, she grabs his shirt and pulls him to her. Their lips collide awkwardly before settling into the familiar rhythm of their kissing, slow and deep.

After a few moments, he pulls away. “What is going on here?”

“Revenge,” she says. “I want you to fuck me on the hood of Joanne’s car.”

He ponders the suggestion for a moment, then smiles — and then a giggle escapes his mouth, a sound somewhere between bewilderment and glee, then another, then another.

“Aw, come on, don’t laugh. I thought it’d be fun.” She frowns, embarrassment heating and coloring her cheeks.

“No, no,” he says once he’s able to control his laughter. “I fucking love it.” He kisses her fiercely, growling deep in his throat. “I fucking love you.” Mikasa smiles, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. There’s some maneuvering involved in getting her underwear off, her round belly making the whole process somewhat unwieldy; Levi stuffs them in his pocket then gets down on the concrete, kneeling before her.

“Are you serious?” she squeals, trying to look at him over the curve of her stomach.

“If anyone asks, tell them you went into labor and I’m checking how far along you are.” With a low laugh he gets to work, nuzzling her pussy before licking a firm stroke along her seam. Mikasa bites her lip and lets out a shaky anticipatory breath in the brief moment before Levi lavishes attention on her clit, massaging it with his lips and tongue. She gasps when he pulls away from her a few minutes later, halfway to orgasm and disappointed not to get there.

“We need to be fast,” he says in lieu of an apology, undoing his pants and pulling out his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times in his fist. “I’ll finish you off at home.”

“You’d better,” she replies, a playful threat.

Levi settles himself between her legs then enters her with no warning or fanfare save the soft moan they both make, a low noise of contentment, of wholeness. They have always been a fearsome team, first as colleagues, then lovers, now spouses and parents, and their lovemaking is no different, each of them able to discern angles and positions from sighs, from grunts, from the furrow of a brow or the touch of a hand. Tonight Mikasa slides her hands down Levi’s back, skating over the soft brushed cashmere of his sweater, telling him that she wants him to be gentle with her — for now, anyway. Joanne’s comment must have stung, he thinks, and he resolves to show her exactly how beautiful he thinks she is, pregnant or not. There’s a certain earthy, ephemeral beauty in her pregnant body, something attractive and incredibly arousing about the thought of her creating and building life even as she sits next to him selling lemon bars at a school bake sale. He loves the way her hard edges have softened, the pleasing new fullness in her cheeks, the luminous glow that seems to emanate from within her.

(He has learned since her last pregnancy not to mention that he also loves the growing size of her breasts, and in return Mikasa only rebukes him for staring when he’s open-mouthed and practically drooling.)

Mikasa’s eyes flutter closed as Levi rocks against her, a gentle motion that makes the car bounce in time with his thrusts. A bubble of laughter escapes her lips.

“What’s that for?” he asks with a smile, then kisses her before she can answer.

“I love you so much,” she says against his mouth. “And fuck Joanne.”

Levi stops moving; Mikasa cocks her head, silently asking him what’s wrong. “Don’t say that bitch’s name when I’m inside you.”

“Look, do you want to revenge-fuck me or not?” She isn’t sure if that’s a word, but during sex, when they’re heated and frantic for each other, even Levi’s crude come-ons sound like poetry, so maybe this will work.

It does. “You want me to revenge-fuck you?” he growls, slapping his hips against hers with a rough thrust. She whimpers at the impact, a wave of pleasure rippling through her body.

“Yeah,” she pants. “Show me how angry you are.”

He makes a low hum of approval; though he’s become more proficient at sweet talk and romance in the years he’s been with Mikasa, he tends to favor sex as intense as his personality, grasping hands and heavy eye contact. Mikasa has never seemed to mind though sometimes, like tonight, she needs him to make love to her first.

Levi fucks her hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the cool night, her cunt making obscene liquid noises around his cock. Even through the delicious haze of their passion they’re listening out for footsteps, for cars, for the creak of doors opening.

“We should finish soon,” Mikasa pants.

“I’m close.” He slows his pace, grinding against her, sinking into her as deep as he can go, before pulling back and scything into her slick heat again and again, harder and harder, muttering curses and endearments and wordless sounds of effort and desire.

And then he thrusts into Mikasa so roughly that her ass hits the hood of Joanne’s car hard, triggering the car alarm, horn blaring and lights flashing.

“Shit!” Levi yelps, startled by the sudden noise. He jumps back from her, stuffing his stiff, aching cock back in his pants and undoing the fly with adrenaline-shaky fingers.

“We gotta go!” She hops down from the car, landing unsteadily on her feet, pulling her dress down over her nudity. “Do you have the keys?” She scrambles over to their car, pulling at the handle of the locked passenger door. “Come on!”

Levi reaches in his pocket for the key fob, mashing the buttons so the doors unlock and the ignition turns on. Mikasa clambers into the car as fast as she can, slamming the door behind her, and Levi follows soon after. Through the windshield she can see someone coming to locate the source of the commotion and chants, “Drive! Drive!” at Levi while he clicks his seatbelt into place.

“Seatbelt!” he barks at her and she complies, fear and arousal and adrenaline making her feel jittery and giggly and wonderfully alive. Levi remains stoic, but there’s a devilish glee playing at the corners of his lips: he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is. He backs their car out of the parking spot with the precision of a stunt driver and peels off, speeding off into the night seconds before Joanne comes outside to investigate the shrieking car alarm and the strange ass-shaped dent on her hood.

#rivamika #alienheartattack writes #this fic has been in the works for YEARS and i've only managed to finish it today #if you dig through my blog there's a headcanon about this #it's good to be back!#i am working on other prompts - y'all really want some cottagecore arranged marriage stuff #the only arranged marriage AU I have in my head is dark af but I'll probably write it anyway #and I do have an old cottagecore postcanon fic idea i might be able to use #am I just procrastinating writing my novel? probably #btw if you want to know about that plz drop me an ask #i am 165k words in and it's still not done #and yes it is smutty and romantic

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chibimyumi · 3 years

Note

Hi, I hope you're doing well and staying healthy. I've read your post about how Elizabeth attacking ciel is sexism. What about Sebastian getting bully by Frances? Frances is a noblewoman grabbing a servant's hair in front of other people. And fans (including me) are like: oh! What a lioness! Even the devil himself is terrified of her! what if it was the other way around? The idea of a nobleman grabbing a governess's hair calling her nasty and indecent makes me uncomfortable and even angry.

【Response to post: Sexism against men and Kuro Sexist jokes】

Dear Anon,

I’m doing well, thank you very much. I hope you too ^^

Your question is a very good one, and it really had me thinking for a while! I myself admittedly do laugh very hard at Sebastian getting a hard time from Frances. But indeed, like you said, it is still bullying, and bullying is bad. In this post-feminist era, we have been so trained to see women bullying men as ‘funny’ or ‘empowering’, but women getting bullied as unambiguously bad instinctively, that sometimes we forget to check our double standards.

Feelings are feelings, we can’t help what we feel. But how come then that to many of us, Frances bullying Sebas is so funny, but Lizzie almost murdering O!Ciel and Nina bullying men not? This post is merely an attempt to explain this feeling for myself too, but hopefully we can all reach SOME explanation together as well???

Let us first look at in what ways Frances has been making Sebastian’s life hard. From all the interactions we have of these two so far, her main points of criticism seem to be his hair and his lack of professionalism.

Slovenly Hair

Sebastian’s hair is something we’ve gotten quite used to now after more than14 years. In Sebastian’s time however, his hair really would have been the height of impropriety for his profession.

Just like I translated O!Ciel’s looks to 2020 standards, I quickly translated Sebas’ hair to 2020 standards as well. Very clean, innit?! Very professional, innit?!

Even without the translation however, if we look at the worst of wigs from the Kuromyus, we can also see how Sebastian’s hair would be atrocious in any formal setting. Look past the fact that these actors are supposed to represent a drawn character. Just imagine being in a fancy restaurant and encountering a dead-spider feather duster on your waiter’s head.... erm....???

Something that is objectively bad on Frances’ end however, is that chapter 14 is not the first time that Frances has seen his ‘slovenly hair’. If his hair really is so unacceptable, as an authority figure Frances has the right to say something about it. However, as it seems, until this point she has never communicated at all (no, “hinting” is not the same as communicating), so Sebas had no way of knowing what he “did wrong”. She immediately grabbed for Sebastian’s hair without mercy, probably because her crept up frustration got the better of her. This is indeed entirely too harsh for a first time call-out, and entirely on Frances.

Much later in the story Frances criticises and touches Sebastian’s hair again, and this time in public while he was infiltrating as a teacher. Here Frances is even publically humiliating Sebastian in front of his students and other high ranking guests.

Especially when you keep in mind that Frances is a noblewoman and Sebas a mere servant, Frances is indeed abusing her power against a servant who cannot strike back at all.

This is indeed power play. However, though it does not justify anything, in the very least her criticism does have ground; Sebas’ hair is by all measures inadequate for any professional setting. Just be nicer about it, Frances.

Useless Butler

Now, let us look at the other reason Frances disapproves of Sebas. Sebastian is a very competent butler according to most people. To Frances however, this claim is empty. When she arrives, parts of the estate have been destroyed and something very literally exploded in her presence.

Even though Sebas is not the person actively causing the explosion or the destruction, as the senior servant of the household, it is literally his job to manage the other servants. So yes, here too, the fact that things can be destroyed in the household because he either hired inadequate staff or because he mismanages his household, DOES INDEED prove he fails at his job. As the aunt of O!Ciel who cares about her nephew AND her paternal home, Frances is in her right to be concerned and call Sebastian out for NOT doing his job.

In chapter 14, Sebastian’s schedule was all over the place and kept changing the plans for Frances. It is no wonder that she would be quite annoyed and doubt Sebastian’s adequateness. When you know your 13 year old nephew’s household is in the hands of somebody so apparently inadequate, anybody would probably be concerned. However annoyed though, Frances does not overstep any boundaries about this specific issue; she is simply supremely unimpressed. Fair enough?

Compliments where due

Something that is quite interesting though, is that despite disapproving of Sebastian, Frances does also know when to compliment him when due. After Sebastian has saved Lizzie’s life without boasting, Frances recognised how the butler does indeed have some value and the correct attitude as a servant.

She says “though you look indecent what you say is true,” and it is yet another jab at the demon’s expense. But here she is also showing that she is willing to acknowledge somebody’s achievements, looking past appearances.

Before Frances leaves, Frances jabs at Sebas a bit again, but she really is not doing anything dickish this time. Instead of making Sebas think she’s simply chosen him as target to be a prick towards, she concretely states why she doubts his professionalism. She mentions the smashed tea set, bare garden and burnt food; mistakes that are objectively unacceptable. Instead of yelling at him, she actually gives him constructive criticism. So here too, Frances is quite stern, but her grounds are solid.

In the Campania arc Sebas shows up again with the hair Frances disapproved of. Frances clearly wants to do something about it again because in her eyes, the butler simply won’t learn. But given the circumstances and Sebastian’s proven usefulness, Frances actually does shelve her agenda. Just like above, here too Frances shows that she is capable of acknowledging somebody despite their looks.

Later when the zombies dramatically outnumbered the living humans, Frances sends Sebas - who had come to her aid - back to her daughter and nephew. By sending Sebas back, Frances also shows that she in fact trusts this ‘slovenly butler’ with the lives of two children she loves deeply. Sebastian protests, but Frances immediately replies: “don’t you trust our ability as swordsmen?” Here what Frances is functionally saying is: “I trust you with your abilities, so you can trust us back.”

In short, Frances is harsh and doing power-play against a servant, but she can shelve her agenda, and does acknowledge Sebas when due.

Contrast to Nina and Lizzie

So now we have seen how Frances bullies Sebastian, and her motivation behind all her points of harshness. As we have seen, Frances’ only points of criticisms are concrete ones; Sebastian’s lack of professionalism in looks, and his lack of professionalism in management. She goes about them too harshly, but all points are legit criticisms, and something Sebas CAN and probably SHOULD work to improve.

Nina

This is in stark contrast with the way Nina bullies her victims. As far as we have seen, none of Nina’s victims have offended her in any way, nor does she ever give any concrete criticism. She has just decided that because men are men, they don’t deserve proper treatment. Even when providing clothes for men is literally part her job, she refuses to provide the ‘professional service’ she is being paid for. And because she is AN EMANCIPATED LESBIAN!!!!!!! #FEMINISM, it’s FINE (!?!?!?)

Unlike with Frances’ criticism of Sebastian’s inadequate hairdo and managing, being ‘men’ is not something any of these men can do anything about (except Sebas, but Nina doesn’t know). Bullying is always wrong, always low. But it’s EVEN lower when you bully somebody for who they are, and not what they do wrong. What does not help is that Nina seems to only be capable of treating people nicely if they happen to be sexuality-wise compatible with her... but if you are, you’ll get molested. What is wrong with you, Nina????

Yes, Frances is saying: “you are a man, and yet your fringe is so long”. So on the most surface level, it is a woman saying this to a man because he is a man. As we later get to know Frances a bit better though, she would be harsh to anybody who looks slovenly. She just has different hairstyles which she considers appropriate for men and women respectively. Had Sebas been a woman and his hair was the ‘feminine equivalent of slovenly’, Frances would most likely have acted exactly the same. So in this sense, unlike with the jokes using Nina and Lizzie, it is not purely: “Haha, girl bullies boii, lol.”

Something else that is terrible is that what Nina does seems to be systemic. Logically it checks out too; it can’t be that only since the past few weeks she’s decided only women and young boys deserve her kind treatment. For all we know, Nina’s been treating the male Phantomhive staff like this for 2-3 years. Sebastian’s comment about Nina thoroughly ignoring men again with “as always” further supports this theory.

With Frances in contrast, in chapter 14 (so barely a year ago in story time), Sebas seemed to have no clue whatsoever about Frances’ terrors. Sebas announced Frances’ arrival to his master and is very calm about it. It was not until O!Ciel alerted Sebas about his aunt that anybody even guessed what hurricane was headed for them. As such, we can safely conclude that Sebas had only been subjected to Frances’ criticism a couple of times, unlike having had to bear with Nina for years.

Yes, Frances still should have communicated, but I already addressed the details above. Still, the point remains that even though Frances is overstepping boundaries and abusing her power, her criticisms are at least not empty.

Lizzie

Lizzie too just like Nina, had zero grounds for showing that much aggression. She did not give anybody the benefit of the doubt, did not communicate, or even so much as give O!Ciel any chance to explain the situation. So far O!Ciel has given Lizzie no reason to think he’d cheat on her, and yet she hurled so much aggression at him Sebas had to intervene.

Still, Lizzie is marginally better than Nina because she is not systemically bullying O!Ciel. It is a one time event. However, this one makes me more annoyed with Yana because it means that even Yana had to use this stale, stale trope of “LOVE TRIANGLE COMEDYYYY”. Have I ever mentioned how MUCH I hate love triangles and jealousy???

Conclusion

Feeling wise, the most important reason for why Sebas being bullied by Frances is funny is probably because of who Sebas is. Sebas is otherwise an all-powerful demon, but to see him inventing colours to shit at Frances - a human Sebas could crush between his fingertips like a cookie - is just hilarious. Had Sebas been a human though, I would not have laughed so hard personally.

Rationally however, Frances is doing power play against a servant who cannot talk back, so it is still bullying, and bullying is inexcusable.The only bit of “right” Frances has is that she does not seem to be systemically bullying Sebastian, and that her criticisms have some ground.

So if Nina and Lizzie’s behaviours played for jokes are like... a -7 and -9 respectively, Frances’ at least scores a -2 for me?

(Yes, as we’re talking about bullying anyway, I just have to make a jab at Vincent.)

Afterword

Something not really related to why “Frances:Bad”, “Nina-Lizzie:Worse”, but I do wish to mention is Yana’s improved drawing skills. I have no proof, but I think it MIGHT have been where this Frances-joke originated.

Yana’s time in the more traditional mindset of manga-worldview really showed, especially at the far beginning. Besides, she was still in the process of finding a way to draw handsome men. In the more traditional mindset of the early 2000s, handsome men were just not supposed to have slicked back hair - “that was reserved for old men and nasty dudes!!” Yana’s discomfort with drawing handsome men with slicked back hair was clearly visible in Sebastian’s early appearances, and making the ‘”hair, back!!! says old-fashioned lady” was potentially even a way of Yana to laugh at herself.

I don’t know who else is old like me and grew up with 80s to early 00s manga, but at the time, hair for handsome men was a BIG deal. In that world ‘slicked back hair’ just carried a certain laughability about it; a “rule of not-cool”. To me at least at the time this ‘laughability’ really resonated with me, and Yana probably also trusted this same ‘unspoken rule’ to resonate with her audiences.

Much later though, Yana clearly grew more comfortable and maybe even fond of slicked back hairstyles as she confidently chose to portray Sebas as ‘appealing’ while wearing his hair in the style Yana previously disliked.

Again, I have no proof, but I can’t help but think that if Kuro had started 10 years later, the running gag revolving Frances might look altogether different.

What do you guys think? ^^ Cheers, and stay healthy!

Character analysis Nina Hopkins

Character analysis Vincent Phantomhive

Sexism against men and Kuro’s sexist jokes

MASTERPOST Gender in Kuroshitsuji

MASTERPOST Analyses & Info

#Kuroshitsuji #Frances #Midford #Sebastian Michaelis #hair #joke #funny #tw bullying mention #Lizzie #Nina Hopkins

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

Text

Prank gone wrong

Prompt number: 19 “I can’t do this anymore”

Fandom: It

Paring: Richie Tozier x reader (aged up to 17 or 18)

Rating: T

Word count: 2.6k (this was supposed to be short!)

Warnings: Swearing. Bullying. Mentions of domestic abuse/domestic violence- nothing graphic. asshole Richie. Angst but ends fluffy

A/N: Oof I’ve been gone for ages, I’m sorry guys. But here’s day one of fictober, so hopefully I’ll be able to keep up and this will motivate me to write regularly again. I’m not sure if I love this one or not. I liked the idea when I started and then it took some turns and this is what I ended up with while writing between zoom classes, so sorry if it sucks. I added the second gif cause it’s closer to the age in the story.

It all started as a stupid prank, a way to get back at Greta for years and years of torture, you never thought it would end in you losing a friend. Just over three months ago Richie agreed to Bev’s plan, take Greta out on a few dates and then publicly humiliate her- give her a taste of her own medicine. But to everyone's surprise, it lasted way longer than a few dates and there was no end in sight. Worst of all it seemed that Richie was actually falling for her- he would defend her any chance he got and even started ditching the losers to spend time with her and her friends.

It was no surprise to you that Greta fell for Richie, he’s funny, sweet, and he’s aged well. His head has grown into his coke bottle glasses, he still wears hawian shirts but now he has a leather jacket over them constantly- a leather jacket that the two of you picked out together. There is no better than one Richie Tozier, and your feelings are getting harder and harder to deny. Your crush on the trashmouth developed back in middle school- the summer Pennywise reigned terror, but through the years your crush turned into something stronger- by senior year you knew you loved him. Halfway into said school year every loser, besides Richie of course, knew of your feelings for him. The pitied glances they would send your way were almost suffocating.

Richie is late to lunch yet again, probably making out with Greta in the hallway, so each of you are using this time to talk about the personal hell her and her friends have created for each of you today. You go last, quickly giving them a rundown of your encounter with her in the bathroom, where she threatened you to stay away from ‘her Richie’ and that you would live to regret it if you didn’t. She even ripped one of your textbooks out of your hands, dropping it into the disgusting toilet water- calling you a worthless slut on her way out.

“Greta is such a bitch!” you complain to your friends, mindlessly pushing around the mush they call lunch at Derry high with the cheap plastic spork they provide.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t talk about my girlfriend that way,” Richie’s voice is calm and even- lacking the normal excitement and joking lilt to it. Your eyes widen in horror at him having heard you, then they narrow at how genuine his defense of her is.

“Richie, c’mon, let it go,” Eddie pleads, glancing between your shocked and hurt face and Richie’s angry one.

“No Eddie, I’m so sick of (Y/N) talking shit about my girlfriend!” you whip around in your seat and look at him in shock.

“Richie what the hell?” you rise out of your seat so he won’t look down on you literally and figuratively anymore. He cocks his eyebrow, head dropping to the side as he crosses his arms and lets out a huff of annoyance. “Ya know what? I can’t do this anymore!”

“Do what anymore?” Richie doesn’t drop the cocky attitude, making the next words out of your mouth slightly less painful.

“Be your friend,” there’s a collective gasp from your friends. Richie’s face morphs into shock and sadness for a split second before hardening and sending you another glare. “Not when you’re dating her. She’s changing you Richie!”

“Greta was right about you, you are a bitch,” your breath catches in your throat and you fight the tears that well up in your eyes. Richie’s glare is unflinching as you stare him in the eye, a tell-tale sign that he doesn’t regret a single word that he said. The murmuring from the table behind you stops the moment the words leave his mouth, they all stare at their friend in shock.

“Fine, then you’ll never have to deal with this bitch again,” you spin around and grab your backpack and lunch tray. “Fuck you Richard Tozier!” you dump your tray of mush into the trach on your way out of the cafeteria nad away from that stupid boy you somehow fell for.

“What did you just do?” Stan is the first one to regain the use of his voice, he’s glaring at Richie as the boy takes your recently vacated seat.

“I’m sick of her attitude towards Greta,” he tries to defend, shocked when all of his friends level him with matching glares.

“W-wh-what h-ha-ha-happen-ned to th-he pr-pr-prank-k?” Bill’s recently improved stuttering growing worse as he grows anxious at the turn of events between his friends.

“Greta isn’t the bad one here, we’ve been rude to her all of these years!” Richie once again tries to effectively defend his girlfriend.

“She wrote loser on my cast!” Eddie practically screeches before he goes into an anxiety attack, beleving it’s an asthma attack he takes two puffs from his inhaler.

“Her and her friends dumped wet garbage on me,” Bev adds, quieter than Eddie.

“That was in middle school,” Richie rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

“I thought you were in love with (Y/N) before the whole prank, that you did it to get over her,” Eddie says slowly this time, having calmed down from moments prior.

“Greta helped me realize I never loved (Y/N), I was doing what was expected after years of friendship,” the losers stare at him- open mouthed and gaping at Richie’s stupidity.

“She attacked (Y/N) in the bathroom this morning,” Mike tries to reason with his brainwashed friend.

“No, (Y/N) was lying to you guys. She attacked Greta earlier, not the other way around. She screamed at Greta to break up with me or she’d regret it, and then dumped her books in the toilet and called her slut.”

“Greta did that to (Y/N), you dumbass!” Bev grows increasingly angry, at Richie and herself for coming up with the stupid prank. “I was in there with her, Greta’s convinced (Y/N)’s in love with you so she wants to rip you apart. Do you honestly believe (Y/N) would do something like that?”

“Shit!” Richie slams his fists on the table, causing most of the cafeteria to turn and looking at him briefly before going back to their individual tasks. Everything Greta had blamed on you in the past three months comes rushing back and he realizes that they’re all out of character but in character for Greta. Somewhere along the way he convinced himself that Greta was telling the truth so he had a reason to stop being in love with his best friend- he was too scared to tell you because you’re the only person that could actually hurt him.

“(Y/N) (L/N) to the principal's office immediately,” the voiceover the intercom cracks showing the age of the ancient system.

“Richie?” Stan isn’t sure he wants to know the truth as he asks the question.

“I told Greta to tell the principal,” his voice is oddly quiet and broken, definitely out of character for the jokester trashmouth.

“You fucking idiot!” Bev seethes, staring Richie down. They’re the only two that know the truth about your father.

You quickly get up from your place in the library and walk down the empty halls to get to the principal's office. Once you arrive the secretary gives you a dirty look, causing you to sink back and the pit of anxiety in your gut to grow. Greta sends you a triumphant smirk before going back to fake sobbing as she walks out of the principal's office and past you.

You feel like you're going to vomit as you walk into the principal's office behind him, the look on his face says you’ll get after school detention for at least a week! Whatever lies Greta told about you are clearly being believed by him and the secretary.

“You’re a good student Miss. (L/N), so why have you been harassing Miss. Keene?” he crosses his arms over his chest, they rest lightly on top of his bulging gut.

“I haven’t-” you try to defend, but he puts up a hand to stop you.

“She alleges it’s because you have feelings for her boyfriend Mr. Tozier and you’re upset that she chose her over you.”

“That’s not true-” his glare cuts you off this time.

“Today alone you threw her books in the toilet, threatened her for being with Richie, and called her a slut,” the words today alone stand out to you, how many lies did she tell?

“She did that to me! Not the other way around!” you try desperately for him to believe you.

“Then why didn’t you come to me?” he raises a brow much like Richie did in the cafeteria, Greta has both of them wrapped around her finger and against you.

“Because no ones ever done anything! She’s been torturing me since we were in grade school and she’s never got in trouble! A freshman came to you last week saying Greta was bullying her and you didn’t do anything!”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to suspend you for the rest of the week.” he says firmly, no room for negotiation or pleading.

“That’s four days!” you cry out incredulously.

“Do you want to make it longer?” when you don’t respond he continues talking. “Your father is on his way, go get your books from your locker and leave school property.”

You hear someone call your name from down the hall as you grab all of your textbooks from your locker, trying to shove all five thick books into your bag. You ignore the voice up until it’s right next to you and you realize it’s Richie trying to plead for forgiveness.

“Lose my number, and while you’re at it forget my name. Stay the fuck away from me Tozier!” Your outburst grabs the attention of the other students walking to their next class, everyone shocked by the inseparable duo of Tozier and (L/N) fighting. You slam your locker shut with a loud bang, heading for the door and away from him calling your name.

Monday comes agonizingly slowly, but when it does you're sitting with Bev in the bathroom during third period, both of you telling your teachers you don’t feel good.

“How bad was it?” she flicks her lighter and lights her cigarette, standing next to the window so she can blow the smoke outside.

“Worse than it's ever been,” you feel ghost pains on your back from where your dad's leather belt met your flesh for the past six days. “Since Richie didn’t sneak in to help clean them this time I think I may have an infection.”

“He broke up with Greta,” Bev changes the subject, she knows you only trust Richie enough to see the damage your father inflicts, so she doesn’t bother to ask to check on it.”

“Good for him,” you stare down at the gross linoleum tile under your beat up Chuck Taylor’s. Richie had promised to take you away from your father the moment you two graduated, he’d been promising it for years, even while he was with Greta, but now you aren’t holding out hope for the promise.

“He’s been miserable without you,” the bell signaling the end of the period saves you from formulating an answer. Bev quickly flushes her cigarette butt and the two of you head to the cafeteria, you’re a little worried about sitting with the losers after your fight with Richie. Bev grabs your hand and gently pulls you to the table when she notices your hesitance. You catch up with the rest of the losers, minus Richie who isn’t in the lunchroom which you’re oddly sad about, finding out about tests and break ups you missed while you were suspended. The loud ear splitting sound of feedback causes the entire cafeteria to cover their ears and look to the microphone stand in the front of the room. Richie is standing in the front holding the microphone, cringing slightly at the loud sound. No lunch ladies run to grab the microphone from him, meaning he got permission to do whatever it is he’s about to do. His wild curls bounce as he nervously shifts from foot to foot as he looks around the cafeteria until he locks eyes with you. You can’t look away from him so you miss the smiles the losers give each other and the high five Bev and Ben share.

“(Y/N) I don’t know what I could ever say to you to get you to forgive me, I can never forgive myself for hurting you,” he talks into the microphone, everyone looking between the two of you, but neither of you seem to notice anyone but each other. “I know I embarrassed you, so maybe if I embarrass myself in front of everyone you’ll forgive me a little bit. (Y/N), I never meant to hurt you, I only agreed to the prank because I wanted to forget you. No- fuck that doesn’t sound right.

“I’ve been in love with you since middle school and I knew you could never love me too, even when Ed’s told me you did I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to forget my feelings for you because I never wanted to hurt you, so I agreed to the prank. But I hurt you anyway because I let Greta get in my head, so I even failed the damn prank. But I love you so fucking much (Y/N) and I’m sick of running from these damn feelings. All I want to do is take you away from this hellhole after we graduate, and go to NYU together like we’ve planned since Freshman year. I love you (Y/N) (L/N), and I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing to you about how shitty I was if you give me a second chance.”

Your body stands up on autopilot, and you don’t realize you’re walking towards him until your face to face. Lifting your hand you gently push a curl that fell in front of his eye away and tuck it behind his ear, he leans his head into your hand as a lunch lady comes and takes the microphone out his hand grinning largely at teen love. You struggle to find words, so you wrap both your hands around the lapels of his leather jacket and pull him into a kiss. It isn’t your first kiss, Bill had dared you two to kiss sophomore year in a game of truth or dare in the barrens, but this kiss is different. These aren't two kids afraid of the adult feelings that were overcoming them, these are two almost adults finally giving into the most powerful and amazing feeling in existence. Richie makes sure to keep his hands away from your back, he’ll clean out your cuts later, instead he tangles his fingers into your hair pulling you in deeper. Before the kiss can go too far you pull back giggling as Richie follows your face trying to kiss you again.

“I love you too,” you rest your forehead on his, turning your giggling face into a mock serious one. “But you’re on thin ice mister.”

“I love you more,” he caresses your cheek and you grin happily, laughing at his antics when he starts speaking again. “Than I love Eddie’s mom.” the entire cafeteria is whooping and hollering at your kiss, but non louder than your losers. Well, everyone except Greta, who lets out a high pitched huff and storms out of the cafeteria.

“I think the prank ended up working out,” you giggle, lightly nipping at Richie’s thumb as it grazes over your lower lip.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny

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i8jisoo · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader

changbin x reader | part three of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff & angst for a lil bit woo

↬ warnings; talk of perinatal depression, cursing, n labor

↬ notes; changbin babi 🥺 ALSO ITS CHANGBIN DAY WOOO ITS MY BABYS BDAYYYYY SO I HAD TO POST THIS |

u two had just freshly started an official, public relationship

ofc changbin was freaking out while he was chilling in the bathtub behind the curtain so u could pee on the test already

u two were looking at the line coming in, praying that there would be only o n e 😳

slowly the other line comes in, dark blue n clear alongside the other one

“holy fuck—“

“what do we do?” you asked, your voice wavering while setting the test back down

his hands cupped your face, giving u a soft kiss n hugging you

“we got this, we’re having a baby, baby!” he started to joke and yall burst out laughing while crying in the bathroom

the first few months were amazing

ur lil bump sprouted out n u two were so happy about it

changbin is just so attentive and excited about this pregnancy and his first born

u really couldn’t have been better with ur lil family that was starting to become realer with each day

u two r such bullies yall r like

“what happened? ur a softie now binnie!!”

n he’d say shit like, “well at least i don’t pee every hour on the clock!!”

he makes u cry one time n u use that against him everytime u want something bc he feels guilty >:)

cute lil things like asking the baby what they want to eat or talking to it before the bed

(changbin reads the baby goodnight moon one time and ur just so in love like wow 🥺)

he secretly talks to the baby when you sleep every night because hes waiting for when ur little bean will reply back with a kick or a hand

he is W H I P P E D for u n ur baby bump

nursery is already done at five months

he needs all of the boys to come over though to help him figure out the instructions 😳 these are co nfusi ngg

they notice how smiley n giggly he is when he talks about u two and looking at the finished crib hes just so proud

yall r so happy and content with ur baby that was an accident, but u guys are so happy this happened

but something changes within u

changbin notices your lack of interest in the pregnancy during ur sixth month

ur sleeping pattern was off n u would sleep for hours during the day and night

u were very irritable, not wanting changbin to cuddle with u or kiss u like he did everytime he came back from practice :(

u were always unhappy and always so moody, he just wanted u to be happy 🥺

he is so confused and worried ab u, some days ur not eating or some days u don’t even wake up in the mornings like u used to

sometimes— just sometimes he’d come back home to find u in the same spot, asleep

he’s so fucking scared when ur around seven months that he can’t hold it in anymore

“are—are you okay?” he questions u from the doorway, making u stop to look at him in the mirror

ur eyes were cold, setting down the towel u were drying ur hair with and leaving him by himself while heading into ur bedroom

“don’t you dare fucking walk away from me.”

ur s h oo k

he was really nice during the pregnancy everyday, super bubbly and kind so u were shocked to hear his upset tone

“i can and i will, i’ll just go sleep in another fuckin room.” u mumbled, changbin grabbing ur hands and turning u around to face him

u struggle for a bit while ur arguing with him and telling him to let go so u could go to sleep

“stop! i am your boyfriend, i am the only one who is going to care for you like this. i am the only one who is dying, seeing you like this. do you understand? we’ve been through seven months of this together, it was fine for awhile and now you’re fucking turning me away?”

hes shouting at this point, hes just so pissed after three months of not having answers and your attitudes and arguments, he cannot handle it

u start crying

hes quick to hold you, pulling u down to the bed so u don’t have to stand on ur tired feet anymore

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 🥺🥺🥺

he insists u two will find out n u both will get thru this rough patch together

perinatal depression, they diagnosed u

changbin is so upset when he hears the doctors tell u

everything is making sense to him and he’s just so heartbroken he didn’t put two and two together earlier

he takes time off for the time being to make sure ur taking care of urself

hes watching u like a hawk but trying not to make it evident

the first time u ask him for a kiss, he gives u dozens

he hadn't been asked for kisses in so long he was so relieved 🥺

he’s constantly telling u how beautiful u r and talking to ur bump about how they have the best genes and their uncles

this man is a father already it seems

he is ur #1 face mask partner cause he buys the cute ones only because u deserve the cute ones that r ur favorite ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

cooking together is something that happens, not often but every once in awhile he will let u do small things

cut up some lettuce? sure! pour in the soup broth? of course u can! taste test his food? always.

he wants to make sure ur comfortable with him touching u or kissing u or what hes saying

“i love you.” he’s mumbling, quickly placing a kiss against the fabric of one of his own shirts that was worn by u and fit u like a dress still

he then goes up to ur cheek n presses a kiss to it, ur hand cupping his jaw and letting him kiss ur lips >.<

also u guys let out a quiet talk of pregnancy to the public, letting jyp release a notice on changbin’s absence from live-streams and posts with the boys

u two received a lot of positive feedback which changbin let u read the positive ones n loved when u smiled at each one

u were overdue by a week which was the worst, ur back hurt and u had migraines

u also were put on bed-rest for the next week before u could be inducted

u guys waited out the week and u got scheduled for an induction

the labor was really slow which sucked because u just wanted to hold ur baby already :(

rly intimate moments like chan just holding u n rocking u like a baby

u guys are given this position to move the baby down, your knees on the ground so u could kneel against the bed and changbin would hold ur hips n rock them

he just feels so bad he can’t do anything to help u with the pain 🥺

yall kinda vibing with the hospital food (idk bout yall but some food from hospitals smack chile)

“i just want to go home.” :(

u bet ur ass he scoots into ur hospital bed, holding ur hands n u just cry into his shoulder

he feels like his heart is being torn to pieces when he listens to u cry out of pain

his free hands holds your jaw, making u look up at him

“we’re almost done baby, okay? i know it hurts, if i could i would take your pain in a heartbeat. you are incredibly strong and i’m so proud of you. you just need to hang in here for a few more hours, yeah? you think you can do that?”

u give him the weakest smile ever but its better than nothing

u reach 10cm!!!

now the part that wasn’t fun was the pushing :/

u were hurting, u were tired, and u had been promised almost seven times that all u need was one more push but no matter what, it seemed like the baby wasnt budging

“the cord is wrapped around the neck, we need you to stop pushing. okay?”

ur too tired and stopping the pushing sounded good so u did as they said but when they told u they needed to actually reach in and unwrap it ur blood ran cold

u both were worried about how much u could take

u screamed, god it hurt and it felt like hours of them twisting but it was a mere minute

the labor progressed n there it was

“a girl!”

u two are like faucets or waterfalls

shes literally the perfect mixture of u both 🥺

he washed her hair n helped wrap her up in a blanket, giving her over to u for the first time

u both were just in love with her, she was absolutely perfect

he’s obsessed with her, taking in that baby scent, the scent of the light baby shampoo and the bit of baby powder that lingered throughout her onesie

her hair wooooww its so soft n fluffy

her little baby pout and her puffy cheeks

i can see him calling her bunny for awhile as a childhood nickname

he’ll just be like

“oh that’s my bunny!!”

weird look from u but ur heart melts while he bounces her in his arms n gives her some kissies and running his fingers thru her hair

he’s also rly soft, i don’t see him singing but i see him definitely whispering to her about how she’s gonna grow up and have the best life because thats his little girl

“ur gonna have eight uncles, they are crazy but it’s okay. u definitely lucked out on fathers though, i’m pretty good at lullaby's. u did get great genes too, u have a handsome daddy and a gorgeous mommy. we worked really hard on making u, please don’t hurt ur cute little face. u also have a storm coming, there’s a thing called stays, they are gonna adore you, i promise.”

omgomgomgomg jejejejeje im blushing at the thought of this i just adore dad changbin

u guys may or may not be planning for another but it definitely would happen in a few years

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maxfew · 3 years

Note

You know what pisses me off about this new “Lando gate” Weren’t the Grill the Grid vids filmed like in March all on the same day? And Charlotte was there for each one, so she knows what was said??? So they’ve known for months what could come out. So everyone saying another PR problem ??? She and everyone laughed in the filming thing as they know Landos humour!!!! Seb had the same humour he would’ve laughed too!!!!! I think people don’t get Lando’s sarcastic humour, I personally think he ran out of social steam at that point, they had name drivers number, geography, teams A-Z, team members, first and last. That’s a lot! I run out of social steam and get irritable and very sarcastic when I can’t leave. If tumblr and Twitter were around when Seb and Lewis were Landos age fuck me they would be cancelled nearly each race weekend. Also you know that other drivers most likely joked about it t as well, but they didn’t put it in? We know Lando likes and respects Seb for fuck sake we’ve seen it this year. God sake, thank fuck it’s summer break and He’s got Max and his mates with him. I love the block button. So sorry to rant in your inbox.

i'm with you, anon. i've also seen a couple people calling lando something along the lines of a "pr disaster" after that video, which is a bit extreme in my opinion (i mean, if anything, he's a pr wet dream: young, successful, british, etc etc). and you're right: charlotte, mclaren's communication manager, was literally right there, and she laughed at what he said. other people laughed, too. that's why they included it in the video, for christ's sake 😭so if certain subsets of fans are gonna take offense to a singular joke in a silly video (that literally serves no purpose other than to entertain), then that's on them. but this is lando we're talking about—every single thing that comes out of his mouth is gonna be taken literally, and it doesn't matter if x driver has done/said something similar before! *shocked pikachu face* i guess what frustrated me the most about the whole thing was exactly that; people are always picking apart his words, making assumptions and spinning stories out of literally nothing. he lives in their heads rent free, i guess.

and people act like seb is being bullied on a playground or something, lmao. he and lando have a fine relationship. like chill. idk. the whole thing is so strange and unnecessary. people are just wack. the block button is sexy. this is just how life is.

(and anon—don't apologize for ranting! my inbox is always open and i'm more than happy to discuss this kind of stuff with y'all. mwah)

#i was gonna add something in the tags but then i got SCARED!#i am not that bold #so this is just my (calm and collected) two cents on the matter #ask

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keyofjetwolf · 3 years

Text

What was your first?

So a horse walks into a rehab and says “ouch”. And not a lot. Then a great deal. While also saying nothing. It’s BoJack, in rehab, and going about as well as you might think!

“The Stopped Show” may not have been much about BoJack, but “A Horse Walks Into A Rehab” makes up for it by being 99.9% BoJack, setting aside the brief appearance of the other characters to set their stages for when we get back to them. Diane’s in a shitty motel, Todd’s in a seedy alleyway, Princess Caroline has her porcupine baby, and Mr. Peanutbutter continues to deliver cheer while everything around him burns AND drowns. I’ve now touched base with them about as much as the season premier, and we’ll get busy ignoring them.

As I said, BoJack is the star today, and we continue his quest for ... what, exactly?

Trying to pin it down, that “what is BoJack looking for” question, it’s a lot harder to answer than I expected, which marks another instance of me fucking myself, GOOD JOB ME.

I initially said “punishment”, but that isn’t true, or a least, is too easy. BoJack wants accountability for his actions -- which is a very different thing than punishment -- but he wants it in a way that also absolves him from having to do any work to rise above it. So you’d think he’d love this, the constant claim in rehab that he’s powerless. It seems like the answer to everything, a blanket pass to excuse his behaviour because he’s powerless. Why doesn’t he? I’m not sure I’m entirely clicking with the heart of that, so come with me as I have a poke at it.

For one, I doubt very much rehab would begin and end with “you’re powerless, oh well”. Addiction is some nasty business, but in and of itself, it’s a symptom, not the problem. That in mind, we swing back then to BoJack having to put in the work, only now it’s with the removal of his favourite coping mechanisms.

I think what he was hoping to get out of rehab was more along the lines of “Vodka is a naughty irresistible siren who topples even the most noble of men, but if you cross your eyes and click your heels, you’ll be free from her spell forevermore.” And yeah, no.

I think we get some of that in how, for a while, rehab seems to suit BoJack.

To the point I very specifically said to Doc as I was watching this, “Oh shit, did BoJack just become even MORE insufferable?” He’s okay so long as he has the comfort of the scripts and the regimented plant therapy and the same hike every day. When he starts to get fucked is when he has push further, when he has to work harder, when the treatment demands MORE.

“I notice you tend to deflect when I ask you about the source of your addiction,” his therapist says, causing BoJack to immediately deflect, first with a joke and then, when that doesn’t work, attacking the entire system. Getting to the root of his problem is the last thing BoJack wants, to the point where the entire episode ITSELF is one giant deflection. I made a joke in passing up there about our passing moments with each of the other main characters, but that’s actually it, that’s the heart of this episode.

Each of these are efforts by the episode to deflect what’s going on NOW, tempting us with something shiny and interesting, if only we’d take the bait. I ONLY JUST MADE THIS CONNECTION WELL FUCKING DONE SHOW

And of course, there’s Jameson’s story, which is part deflection, part contrast. She’s intended to appear at first like someone BoJack can relate to, a Sara Lynn Pt. 2 that he wants to save and in whom he sees so much of himself. In equal parts, he’s the adult trying to guide her and the force enabling her, and I’d have to do a bit more thinking on whether I thought his success with her was about him walking both sides of that line, or Jameson just, at the end of the day, being lucky. Either way, it’s also not really about her, so much as BoJack talking a really good game at her, while giving her all the tools to make the worst choices.

Which is, I think, where the episode finally settles. BoJack’s choices have been his own, but they aren’t made in isolation. Throughout this episode, we get moments, presented in reverse chronological order, that could on their own answer that key question: When was the first time you drank?

To settle your nerves to get through a scene everyone was counting on you to nail?

To fit in with the cool kids at high school?

To win your father’s approval?

What’s brilliant to me about each of these flashbacks is that the further into the past we go, the more willing we are to absolve BoJack. In the first, he’s a professional actor required to kiss an attractive and consenting fellow professional in the course of a performance. Nervous? Makes total sense. Getting plastered to do it? LESS SENSE.

The high school one is the most damning, which I adore. BoJack’s the butt of some light bullying by the jock, and I don’t mean to completely dismiss that it sucks, but the remainder of events before he starts in on the beers shows he’s hardly an absolute social pariah. And even if he were, once he begins to drink, BoJack doesn’t just become the life of the party, he becomes cruel (demonstrating quite well that jokes aren’t his only tool of deflection). Worse, that he KNOWS he’s doing it, but cares more about his positive attention than their negative. Still, BoJack’s a kid and peer pressure is a hell of a thing. This isn’t a good look, but it’s also not damning, if he’d come to learn from it.

Now we jump the line to, I’d guess, ten or eleven year old BoJack, who walks in on his father having an affair with his secretary, but too young to recognize what he’s seen. Butterscotch can’t take the risk though, so he effortlessly manipulates little BoJack into getting drunk and passing out, then uses BoJack’s shame about it to keep him quiet on the whole evening. UNDER THE GUISE OF BEING HIS FRIEND AND DOING HIM A FAVOUR BY THE WAY. No question, Butterscotch is a son of a bitch, and the only thing BoJack did wrong here was crave his parent’s love.

Even with the high school one being a little more grey, they’re all pretty cut and dry. Remember that we’re following the thread of “When was the first time you drank?” and to land on the answer “When my unrepentantly dickish father lied to me to save his own ass” puts a pretty solid punctuation mark on the whole affair. Addiction may not be at fault, but Butterscotch Horseman is. Case closed, we can go home.

BUT WAIT WHAT’S THIS

Right at the end, when you think we’re done, there’s one more flashback. A party of some sort, possibly New Year’s. The house sounds empty, there’s only the looping of the record player, stuck repeating the same five seconds again and again and again. Butterscotch and Beatrice are passed out drunk, judging from the empty bottles around them. Was it a good party? A bad one? She has her back to him and they’re about as far apart as they could get while still remaining in the room, but also, nothing’s broken? It’s impossible to know.

What we do know is that BoJack, aged about where we saw him in the “Free Churro” flashback so maybe seven or so? Very young, at any rate, and he’s alone. There doesn’t appear to be anything in the room for a child, so it’s probably fair to say he wasn’t included in the festivities. Did he have something to do instead? His own party maybe? Friends to play with, someone to watch him? Did he even get dinner? From what we’ve seen, “no” is a much more likely answer to any or all of these.

AND NOW THE FIRST TO PUNCH YOU IN THE HEART

Tiny BoJack knocks back several gulps of vodka (like a fucking pro, may I add), then crawls onto the couch next to his unconscious mother, pretending for just a few minutes that she’s cuddling him until he, too, will fall into a drunken slumber.

RIGHT SO WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO WITH THIS JESUS WEPT

Had you told me “Just wait, seven year old flashback BoJack is going to muddy the hell out of this” I wouldn’t have ... okay, well, I know the show, so I probably would’ve believed you, but I would’ve been preemptively grumpy.

This isn’t his fault! But it is! This isn’t his parent’s fault, but it super super is! Nobody MADE BoJack drink the vodka, as the scene goes to great lengths to show. There is nobody to tell him to do anything at all. Beatrice is three fucking sheets to the wind, she has no idea he’s there and he could have pretend cuddled all night AND stayed sober. Did baby BoJack, like adult BoJack, take the drink to calm his nerves for an expression of physical intimacy? Would baby BoJack have even known that was an option? Remember, this is framed as the answer to the question “When was the first time you drank?” Not “took a drink”, but “you DRANK”, the phrasing of which I think is important. It’s all about the root of the problem. What I get out of that question is then is “the first time you drank to numb yourself”.

Baby BoJack is looking at this disaster, this mess that is his every day no matter how many party hats and streamers you stick on it, and he wants anything else at all. So he turns to the easiest thing he knows will take it away the fastest. The situation isn’t his fault. The opportunity isn’t his fault. But the response IS, in a way that EVEN AS I SAY IT, makes me feel shitty.

CONGRATS BOJACK HORSEMAN FOR MAKING ME SEE A LITERAL CHILD SLAMMING BACK VODKA STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE AND MAKING ME GO “okay, but”.

SEASON SIX SHOULD BE A WALK IN THE PARK

#jet wolf watches bojack #it’s no wonder the answers for bojack are so hard to find #when even the goddamn QUESTION requires a dissertation and three hundred caveats #oh i didn't have a place for it really in this essay #but i love the use of the space/planetarium overlay when bojack is really wrestling with his urges

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