@tracinyad : She is an amazing person. I’ve met her irl and she is really sweet. She mostly posts about swtor. Her art is really good and her ocs are really interesting.
@kryptonitanott : She is really awesome. Mostly posts about overwatch. I love playing ow with her. She is a great dps main
@ebimanami : Mostly posts about dbh and yakuza. I don’t really care about dbh but still, I follow her bc she is an amazing person.
@danceswithdinosaurs : Mostly posts about yakuza. She is a really amazing person. I really love chatting with her.
@llaevateinn : Mostly posts about overwatch. She is really awesome and I love playing ow with her.
*lies delicately on the couch* Fic me like one of your french girls (Prompt: number 6, “Explain it to me again - why do we need to pretend to be married?” and i let you choose between reaper76 or tuckington *finger guns at you*)
im gonna do tuckington bc of the Bingo Wars and also bc @playerprophet & @strangestquiet & I have all had this vague AU floating around since last June and i have missed it horribly.
Canon Divergent! ‘tucker and wash have to play dignitaries with aliens and humans and they wear suits and have varying forms of chemistry’ or as kelly called it ‘dramatic ballroom espionage’
——–
“Explain it to me again,” Washington asks, as though somehow Carolina’s answer will be any different, “why do we need to pretend to be married?”
“Because we need someone actually trained in espionage to attend the Gala, and the only way is if you’re Tucker’s significant other.” She yanks on the back of his suit jacket, adjusting the fit. He feels horribly bare without his armor, like a cracked tooth. “The Sangheili respect him, so it has to be him.”
“And its me and not you as his partner because–”
“He would grab my ass while dancing and I would murder him where he stood,” Carolina says, then steps back to view her handiwork. Technically, Donut’s handiwork. Not that Washington had let that guy get his hands all over Washington’s body, but Donut’s eye for colors and shapes was well known. “Take a look.”
Washington glances at himself in the mirror - grey suit jacket, yellow tie, pants nearly as dark as the shadows under his eyes from paranoid insomnia - and back to Carolina with a shrug. “Looks fine. Where’s Tucker?”
“Waiting for you, asshole,” comes a voice from around the corner. Washington steps out of the little bedroom and into the hallway. Tucker is dressed in sleek black, with a tie that nearly matches his signature blue-green armor, eyes on his tablet. The clothes actually seem to fit him, and Washington feels a stab of envy at how Tucker can mold himself to fit this role.
And then he looks up, gives Washington a dramatic elevator-eyes and a “damn, people might actually believe that I’d tap that” and all of his respect goes out the airlock.
———
The first hour is a disaster.
By the time they escape the cloying mass of delegates all trying to one-up each other in terms of false charity, Washington is ready to drown Carolina’s earpiece in his complimentary cocktail. Her instructions had led to improvisation, then to barking orders and now to a frosty silence while she no doubt tried to cool her nerves and try to find some way to corral them both.
Tucker, for his credit, is good at playing the part of the vaunted guest. He’s lapped up the praise given to him by all parties - only gloated a little bit in the face of a Sangheili representative lauding Junior’s skills in sports and politely tabled discussion of his not-entirely-intentional pregnancy - but his ability to cooperate ends there. They’ve split up for the moment, with Washington hunched over a table that allows for the best view of all the entrances and exits, and Tucker as close to the ‘bar and broads’ as possible.
The pass Tucker makes at a waitress is so obvious Washington can see it from here. Part of him wants to throw his glass at the bastard, but he knows that a scene is the last thing they need right now. He just needs to be patient, wait it out a few short days on this pleasure cruise and–
“Marital problems?” asks someone at his elbow. Washington jumps, hand halfway through reaching for a gun he isn’t wearing, before looking over to his new companion. It’s some form of alien, one he doesn’t totally recognize; somewhat humanoid, but with a hunched back, bald head and a flat face. Small, bright eyes take him in, and the alien smiles. “It is not to worry, David Tucker. There is to be a dance soon, and all will be well.”
“A…. dance.”
“Yes. I have studied much human culture,” the alien preens, “and I do nothing in small measure.”
“Great. Fine. Okay.” Washington takes a sip of his cocktail, keeps a straight face as Carolina chimes in with a mocking ‘really?’ and looks back at Tucker.
To his surprise, Tucker is already looking at him. Surrounded by humans and a smattering of aliens, he seems to have paused in the middle of a story to look for him. After a beat, his face settles into a grin and he gestures for Washington to come join him.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, pulling social grace out of his ass as he stands. The alien doesn’t stop him, so he descends the short flight of stairs back down to the main floor of the room.
As he approaches, Tucker takes the last step to close the distance and, as smoothly as though he’s done it every day for years, leans up and kisses Washington on the corner of the mouth. Brief enough to be chase, long enough that the sensation lingers and distracts Washington from Tucker’s greeting.
“What?” he asks, his tone harsh and flat compared to whatever playful thing Tucker had said. “Come again,” he flails for a pet name, “peaches?”
‘Did you just call him–’
“I said,” Tucker says, a little sharper this time, “that I told everyone about your bowel condition, so you don’t have to hide it. Feeling better?”
The rate at which Tucker is able to gain and then immediately, dramatically lose Washington’s respect is enough to make his head spin. “I was,” he grits, “but I feel like I might need another drink.”
Forget whatever that alien said. No amount of dancing could possibly make him like Tucker.
kryptonitanott replied to your post “New Year’s fic resolutions:”
I so want to read the Climb au and a maybe Westworld au like holy shit yes yes yes go dodo fill us all with your fics and morreyeson feels
The Climber AU is going to be so hard because it’s like ten things at once, and you know our plans for the Westworld AU *wink wink* but I sorely need some fluff in there too, maybe something like the 50 first dates thing again. Let’s rewrite some more romance movies.
kryptonitanott replied to your photo: this scrotal waffle was slinging slurs at me (his...
Ummm what thr fuck??? What an asshole
it started bc he was already slinging slurs in chat the MOMENT i hit character select and like? i basically was just being happy about pride month like “sorry its pride month everything is gay you’re gay and we love you” but like. the ENTIRE MATCH. the entire fucking match all he did was be an absolute tool. used my teleporter and made a big fucking deal about how it’s gay and it’s tainted him. i have seldom witnessed more pedantic fuckery in my goddamn life.
kryptonitanott replied to your chat “kryptonitanott: It sounds to me that Gabriel (Reyes) suffers from...”
oh my god???? BUT LISTEN, HEY, OKAY, YOU WERE SO PUMPED AFTER BABBLING A LOT ABOUT THESE TWO ASSHOLES THAT THEN YOU STARTED TO TELL ME TO SHUT UP BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T WRITE AND YOU WANTED TO WRITE AND IT WAS AN ENDLESS CYCLE OF "I WANT TO KEEP TALKING ABOUT HC OF R76 BECAUSE I'M EXCITED ABOUT ALL WE'RE TALKING BUT I ALSO WANT TO WRITE BECAUSE THIS TALK MAKES ME EXCITED ABOUT WRITING OF R76"
