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softblesses · 5 months

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Summer Colds.

In which Neal and Elizabeth suffer, and Peter is there to fix it.

Pretty much another classic sick fic of my favourite hyperfixation rn! Please don’t reblog to non kink/whump blogs. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1.

“You’re sick,” Mozzie stated matter of factly, whilst wandering alongside Neal, in the streets of New York.

“I’m fine.” Neal muttered back, rubbing a knuckle under his nose in an attempt to put a stop to the itch.

“You’re not fine! You never sneeze. Like, ever, so unless you can explain the past ten minutes? I’m staying ten steps away, my friend. Ten. Steps. Away.”

“Mozz, you’re being dramatic. It’s nothing, it’s just —“ Neal stopped walking, bringing his elbow to his face. Mozzie was right, but he was hanging on to the small dregs of hope that this was all random and he wasn’t getting sick after all.

‘Heh’kshu!’ The sneezes told a different story.

“Gesundheit. Now, why don’t we do the sensible thing and double back to June’s instead of breakfast? You can go to bed, I’ll get you some medicine and then I’ll make scarce!” Mozzie took a few steps back towards Neal, rolling his eyes at the sound of his cellphone ringing.

He folded his arms, tapping his foot as he listened to his friend speak. “The suit wants you to work?” He questioned, after Neal hung up.

“Elizabeth’s workplace got robbed,” Neal explained, pocketing the phone. “She’s okay, but Peter wants to investigate. Don’t look at me like that, Moz. It’s just a stuffy nose. It’s probably just… allergies, or something.”

“You don’t get any kind of pollen allergies, wise guy.” Mozzie pointed out. “Let me know if El needs my… expertise. I’ll be at breakfast, while you go and tango with the bureau, Sneezy.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later, Mozzie.” Neal watched him walk away, checking his watch; Peter would be here to pick him up soon.

After almost ten minutes, Peter was parking by the sidewalk and Neal climbed into the back seat; they were picking up Elizabeth, so he naturally assumed she’d go up front.

“Hey, Neal.” Peter greeted, and it was already obvious he was stressed.

“I’m sure Elizabeth is fine,” Neal replied, buckling his seatbelt.

His handler only sighed, driving off again. “I told her to stay home today,” he continued, without acknowledging Neal’s statement.

“Stay home?”

“Yeah… she’s sick, and she already worked from home for a couple days. I just — well, El thinks I’m being too dramatic. It’s just a cold, but, still.”

Ah. That explains how Neal caught what he has. “You worry a lot,” he confirmed. “But, I’m sure Elizabeth appreciates it. She’ll be okay, and I’m sure she’ll work from home tomorrow.”

There was a long pause, before Peter sighed again. They stopped in traffic, and he took a look in the mirror back at Neal. “Maybe you’re right,” he hummed.

“I’m right? Really?”

“Alright, don’t push it.”

“Are you sure you’re not getting sick?” Neal teased, although unbeknownst to Peter he was the one feeling under the weather; Neal’s throat itched, and so did his ears, and he couldn’t breathe through his nose or he’d sniffle and it would make him sneeze again.

“My immune system is top notch, and you know it.” Peter pointed out. “I’m feeling fine.”

“Even when sleeping with Elizabeth?”

Peter shot him a glare in the mirror, and Neal held up his hands. I meant sleeping as in sharing a bed! That’s a sure fire way to get sick.” He scrunches his nose, trying his best to quell the ever growing itch.

“Huh. And, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” The man jested back, falling quiet as they neared their destination.

Neal rolled his eyes at Peter’s comment, but for lack of energy and realisation that he was about to park the car again, he stayed quiet. Peter told him to stay put, and explained that he wasn’t going in as FBI — Elizabeth had a bunch that the lead thief was one of her colleagues. It was an interesting sounding case, but right now the CI was too focused on holding back a sneeze. And, as soon as Peter had closed his car door and stepped away from it, Neal buried his face into his elbow and inhaled sharply.

‘Hh’sSHhu, k—tch’tcH. Ugh. Shit.’ He sighed, making quick work of blowing his nose into the handkerchief in his pocket, placing it back just in time for Peter to open the door for Elizabeth.

“Honey, I promise, I’m fine — hey, Neal — a little shaken up, I guess, but I feel alright! You worry too much.” Elizabeth huffed a little, waiting for her husband to get in the car beside her. She didn’t sound extremely sick, but Neal could definitely hear the congestion in her voice.

Peter climbed in the car, and leaned across to feel El’s forehead. She didn’t look impressed. “I know, I know. I worry too much! We have to take your statement back at the office, is that okay? I’ll work from home after that.”

Neal’s eyebrows raised a little at that.

“You’re coming too, Neal. You’re not getting out of work that easily.” It was like Peter had read his mind. “We can —“

‘hu’tsh, tch, tshh. . Huh’tcHoo.’

“Bless you,” Peter and Neal rang in sync, whilst the agent continued to rub his wife’s back.

“Sorry,” El apologised softly, pocketing her tissue and leaning back in the seat with a heavy sigh.

“It’s okay, Hon. Neal, I’ll explain everything to you when we get to my place. Let’s get this statement over with so we can all relax.” Peter leaned across to kiss El on the cheek, before starting up the car.

•••

The conference room was dark, with the shutters closed and the lights turned off. It was like a welcoming blanket of calm, and immediately Neal felt the ache in his head dissipate a little. He quietly closed the door, glancing over at El, who was sitting on the couch scrolling through her phone, on low brightness mode.

“Neal,” she greeted softly. “Everything okay?”

“Peter sent me to check on you,” it was only a tiny, white lie. “And, I’d much rather sit in here with you. Peter gets grumpy when he’s worried.” Neal muttered, wandering in and closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth watched him for a moment, eyebrows raised. “Really? No other reason?” She questioned, still watching him.

“No other reasons.” Neal took a seat in one of the spinning chairs by the conference room table, and rubbed his eyes. They were almost as itchy as everything else; his nose itched, his ears felt stuffy as well as itchy. . . He was starting to feel worse, and if anyone was going to figure him out, it was Elizabeth Burke.

“Neal, are you okay? You’ve been acting off since we were in the car.” Elizabeth pressed on, and Neal sighed in semi-defeat.

“If I told you I had a headache, would you stop asking?” Neal muttered, trying not to sound agitated, and somewhat failing.

There was a pause, and El coughed slightly. “No. Does your throat hurt?” She continued, and Neal spun a little in his chair.

“Maybe.”

“Stuffy nose?”

“A little.”

“So, you’re sick. I knew it.” Elizabeth muttered.

“Which means, this is my fault,” she concluded next. “I’m sorry, Neal.”

He shook his head, reaching into his pocket for the silk handkerchief he’d been hiding away. He rubbed at his nose, and sniffled; revealing the oncoming congestion he’d been trying so hard to cover up for the past couple of hours. “It’s not your fault,” Neal finally spoke, pocketing the handkerchief.

“Know anyone else with a summer cold?” El quipped back, and he could imagine the look she was currently giving him.

With a heavy sigh, Neal leaned to rest his head against his arms, on the tabletop in front of him. “Elizabeth B — wait, what’s your middle name?” Neal asked, sitting up again and squinting over at her.

“Why?”

“Just.. humour me, just for a second.”

“It’s Laura.”

Neal inhaled, and stood up. “Elizabeth Laura Burke, why are you so irritatingly observant?” He exhaled, sniffling afterwards.

A laugh fell from her lips at that, which proceeded into a cough covered by a fist. “Marrying an FBI agent might have had something to do with it,” she smiled, patting the space next to her. “Neal George Caffrey, you know it’s alright to let your guard down here, hmm?” El’s voice softened, watching him as he sat.

He shifted slightly, and El could tell that he was uncomfortable. Although, the eventual albeit very quiet “I know,” was comforting. “That’s why I told you so easily.” Neal murmured, leaning back against the couch with a shiver.

“And, because whatever meds you dosed up with this morning are starting to wear off?” Elizabeth teased, gently reaching to feel his forehead. A little warm, but nothing alarming.

“Stop being right.” Neal grumbled, before quickly leaning away and burying his face into the crook of his arm.

‘Hu—ngxT. . . HheisHhhoo—ugh.”

“Bless you,” Elizabeth murmured, rummaging around in her purse for a new packet of tissues, and gently nudging him before offering them out.

Neal practically whined, taking a moment to use one of the tissues, before leaning back against the couch with another little shiver. Elizabeth frowned, about to suggest asking Peter to take them home sooner, when the glass door behind them opened.

“Sorry that took so long,” Peter’s voice announced. “Ready to go?”

The CI’s demeanour was quick to change — he sat up straight, cleared his throat and plastered on a signature Neal Caffrey smile in greeting. “Am I still coming?” He questioned nonchalantly, scrunching his nose and trying his absolute best not to sniffle again.

“Yep,” Peter responded. “We’re working from home today. Which means better coffee and some proper rest for El.” He offered out his hand for his wife, who stood and wandered towards him. She took a glance back at Neal, that was wordlessly saying ‘are you going to tell him, or am I?’ But, the CI simply followed behind them, shaking off whatever discomfort he was currently feeling for now.

Seconds after leaving the comfort of the dark room behind them, both Elizabeth and Neal squinted at the harsh lighting that illuminated the bullpen. Barely seconds later, the pair both paused and comedically in sync sneezes caused Peter to stop in his tracks and turn. “Bless y—whoever just sneezed.” He frowned, watching his wife continue to do so, and Neal turn around to put his back to him.

‘Hhh—ngxXt.’ The CI spun back around, sniffling desperately, and faced with a quizzical look from Peter.

“What, you’re sick too, now?” He questioned, folding his arms.

Neal shook his head. “The lights are too bright, Peter. You should really get someone to — snf — fix that.” He straightened himself up, and glanced sideways at El, who didn’t seem all that pleased with the holdup.

“Right,” Peter muttered, gesturing for the pair to follow him again.

“You wouldn’t understand. Having striking blue eyes isn’t all fun and games,” Neal continued, ignoring the look he got from Elizabeth beside him. He didn’t want to tell Peter he felt lousy, not yet. It was awkward, and he wasn’t used to being so open about vulnerability… besides, he just needed some more meds and he’d be fine to work the case.

On the elevator ride back down, El wrapped her arms around Peter and rested her head against his chest. It was obvious that her meds were wearing off too, although all Neal could do was uncomfortably shift on his feet until they reached the parking garage. He shivered, rubbing his eyes again, and followed Peter and El to the car in silence. Even when sitting in the back, he was uncharacteristically quiet, and at this point Peter wasn’t very convinced that his excuses earlier were true… because, a quiet Neal Caffrey was always something to be suspicious of.

When they got back, El told Neal to wait upstairs and she’d find him something comfortable to wear. Peter waited until the CI was out of earshot, before turning to his wife with a questioning expression. He led her into the living room, bringing her into his arms and waiting a moment before speaking.

“El,” he began. “What’s wrong with Neal?” He figured that if Neal was going to tell anyone, it would probably be El.

His wife faltered, looking up at him with a slightly guilty look. “Why would he tell me?” She replied, resting her head back against Peter’s chest with a congested sigh.

“Because you’re Elizabeth Burke — kind, soft, warm and caring. I can imagine Neal would talk to you, given the right circumstances… you were alone, maybe his guard was down.”

“Well, I kinda guessed. He eventually told the truth.” Elizabeth admitted. “I feel awful about it. I didn’t want to get anyone sick.”

Peter pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Speaking of awful, how are you feeling now?” He asked, leaning back to look at her.

“A little less than awful.”

“But, not great?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “D’you still need me to help with anything in the case?” She asked quietly.

“All I need for you to do is go and change into something comfortable and lie down. We can talk work later, once you’ve rested. I’ll come check on you in a half hour… I guess I should check on Neal too, huh?”

“I’ll check on him before I go to bed. I love you.”

#snzblr #snz #sneezeblr #sickfic #snz scenario #w/hite co/llar #n/eal is so cute I love him #I just love them #I hope y’all like this!! probably one or two more parts to come #snz thoughts

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hunters-hairnoodle · 1 year

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Hey

This is my first post ever and ig technically a rant post but idrc. None of you know who I am and that’s okay. I just occasionally have these days where my mind breaks. I survive each day and then it builds up until eventually there’s a night where I just burst. Tonight’s that night. I have no one to talk to this about. If I talk to my friends they won’t understand or won’t know what to do. My sister, maybe but unlikely. My mom is part of the issue and my dad would never understand. He’d just console me and act like that’s that, problem solved. Or he’d bring up fucking Jesus and make me pray over it, when I’m honestly fucking done with religion.

The days themselves are fine, they’re fine ig. I mean little issues here and there but overall it’s fine. But i get to these nights and realize that it’s not all fine and that there’s a lot of fucking problems, but I can’t do anything about it. I’m a teenager, I don’t have money or can legally drive. Besides running away or suicide my options are limited.

This is gonna sound so stupid to some people, and people will make fun of me for it cuz teenagers are demons who harvest on despair and anguish, but I’m just so worried that I can never be myself ever. At school it’s a facade. At home it’s a facade on who my mom wants me to be. I try to fit into it, but ik I’m fucking miserable. But whenever I am myself no one likes it. I become to weird or nerdy or annoying. And my mom hates it when I actually act like myself. I’ve broken free a little bit over the years, but overall I keep everything restrained. And she’s not a bad person, my mother, she’s just complicated. I can’t tell if she’s the issue or if I am. If I’m actually the bratty kid who’s complaining for no reason or if I have a legitimate reason to be upset. I can’t tell and I don’t know if I ever will be.

On nights like these I go unnoticed by my family so I can wallow in pity alone. For some reason I can’t explain whenever anyone sees me crying or upset or having a panic attack or needing to rant I stop immediately. I listen through the walls as I cry to hear any movement. As soon as I hear any and hear my mother open her bedroom door to go to the bathroom i immediately stop and quiet myself. Just tonight while I was crying and breathing heavily and having a hard time thinking straight and acting normally I heard my mom talking to my sister. I stopped immediately and hid my phone since i knew she wouldn’t want me up. Just as I thought she walked into my room to say goodnight. I hid the crying sound from my voice as well as I could. For once she actually seemed concerned and asked if something was wrong. I was so tempted to tell her to be able to rant and cry to her, but I couldn’t. Because the problems are either her or me being gay and non-binary or just people at school. And whenever I share I’m always bad at it and don’t know how to describe it and get frustrated with myself. Guess I’m better at typing it all out then saying it. Then she always ends up getting mad at me for extending her help and I hate myself more.

It’s not she’s a bad person she’s just hard. She yells curses in the car all the time at other drivers, which Ik isn’t a big deal but when you’ve been at school all day and just want some peace you’re hearing yelling. She’s also very judgemental of other people. She judged everyone by class and looks and their behavior. And it’s to an excessive degree. I think this may have caused me to feel the way I do about myself rn. She never says anything to me specially, but that’s when I act the right way. When I actually act like myself and wear what I want and look how I wish she judges me. Even if she doesn’t say anything directly I can tell by the way she looks and the way she responds with a tight voice. And the issue is whenever I vocalize any of these either what happens is above or she levels it down to me being a teenager and acting like a teen, therefore making my feelings not matter. That’s probably why I’m questioning if I have the right to be upset rn.

She’s also like a feminist which is a bad thing but it’s in a toxic way. Like every single man is bad boo. And then she’s hypocritical in the sense because she’ll hold men by the stereotypes but then changing her mind when it doesn’t benefit her. It’s hard to explain, but that’s the gist of it. For example we watched Hamilton together and she was complaining that there were no women in it (we hadn’t gotten to Schuyler sisters yet) she complained about how they have color blind casting and all that but why women couldn’t play these roles. I explained that it has to do with voice parts since usually AFAB and AMAB people have different sounding voices. She huffed and puffed at this. Throughout the thing she would make me stop so she could learn about the women involved in it and then would just kinda talk shit about the dudes the whole time and making it this whole thing when it’s just a fucking musical about a founding father. And I just have a complicated relationship with it since I’m AFAB and non-binary it’s just hard. Cuz I’m a feminist just not in my moms sense of it. And she’s hypocritical with it. Like when we watched the Oscar’s this lady won for this feminist movie and she did a whole feminism speech thing and my mom was all here for it. But later on when black Panther won something and the lady made a speech about black power she changes the channel! And Ik she would do the same shit if it was a speech about LGBTQ stuff.

With LGBTQ it’s so fucking hard being a gay non-binary teen. I live in the south and everyone here is fucking toxic christian who just say they don’t support it and move on. Or if they accept me they don’t really. Or they just tolerate it. Ig you would call it lesbian non-binary technically. That’s what I am. I have a they/them pin on my backpack and beanie. But no one calls me the right shit. I can’t correct them cuz then they’ll look at me and we’ll talk and they’ll just think it’s weird and not care enough. And being gay is the fucking worse. I’m the odd one out and yeah I can joke about it but it gets hard. I take a lot of shit letting people joke about it. Even with the f slur. But I can’t say anything. I’m still seen as weird for it, tho I am one of the more accepted ones for it probably cuz I don’t make a big deal about it. I haven’t really dated anyone. Ik if I did or actually talked about how I liked girl I’d be see as weird and looked at funny. Even with girls I’m friends with theyll just single me out for it. Like when we’re joking around and their being silly straight girls, and I’m not even trying to join in, they’ll be like “well not you cuz you’re gay and I don’t want you getting the wrong idea.” And then whenever I actually try to share my opinion on gay shit and how it makes me feel it doesn’t even matter. What’s worst of all is one of my best friends doesn’t fucking accept me cuz she’s super Christian. I want to talk to her about it but I can’t I fucking can’t cuz she doesn’t agree. I get asked weird questions or I get asked why im like this. I just wanna be myself for fucks sake. Why can’t anyone get that?

Im out to the whole grade and im really starting to regret it.

I forgot to mention that my parents are divorced. My dads basically a sex addict but pretends he’s not. He’s just weird with everything, I never know what to do around him. I don’t know exactly what happened to make me get where I am with him, but yeah. Oh and my parents hate each other and don’t hide it. I don’t mind it too much but I bet it has some affect on me.

Ik if ever told my mom I was gay it wouldn’t go great. There are several possibilities for it. She would either tell me I’m not, tell me I don’t know yet, or pretend to accept me but not really and judge me for it. And the non-binary thing she would hate. She’d wonder why I don’t want to be a woman. She’d say I’m just a masculine girl. But Ik I’m not. I’ve thought for fucking months about that shit and being called a girl and SHE sounds weird and wrong and not me. If I told her my new name too she’d flip. She’d wonder what was wrong with the name she chose and why I don’t like it anymore. She’d take it as a personal offense.

This just adds to the fact that I can never be myself. But I don’t even know if that’s a good thing. No one at school ever likes when I am. They talk down about the few times I was myself. But I don’t even know wtf that is. I think it’s a little bit of what I am now, but not fully. My mom doesn’t like when I act how I want to at all. And just so you know I’m not some rebellious teen trying to do drugs or something. I just want to vibe as myself fully and without bounds. Do the things I want to do and not hold back. Wear what I want, get my hair how I want. But I can’t. It’s not just them. I’m scared to. I’ve been told my whole life that this is what good successful people do and looking this way or that will get judged and people will think this about you (aka when my mom judges everyone on every little thing). And then if I can be myself maybe I’ll finally be happy. But Ik it won’t work cuz people at school will make fun of me behind my back. I don’t know why I have all these issues or if they’re even issues at all. Maybe I am just a bratty teen complaining about nothing. I feel as tho I should be happy cuz on the surface that’s what it should be. But I’m not. Cuz if this is what happiness is it’s shit. But I don’t even know what that feels like and idk if I ever will.

If you’ve come this far thanks for reading all this. You’ve indulged me for one of my annual “nights” where I break. Thanks. I hope you’re happy.

#i don’t even know why tf I did this #here you go ig thanks for listening to me #Ill see you some other time ig #i fucking hate myself and will probably regret this

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

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FINALLY SOMEONE SAID THE TRUTH.

I admit that i enjoyed act 3 but it feels like really rushed i have so much complain with that.

The build up until act 2 was so good it give us so much premise but the final blow si meh. Sorry that i want to share thing long rant with you

1. Why the final talk is with yae, no offense to her but we need ei to explain not to mention she witness khaenriah downfall so she can give us more information, i feel like they do it for the plot armor so they can just keep dragging this

2. So many things that quite inconsistant, the shogun is show no mercy to anyone that even did a little thing outside what she think its right, how come she can still have a talk with signora, when sara is falling like that, and also there is no clarification about sara right now.

The traveler was so done at first they refuse to help thoma and ayaka at the beginning. But they seem so happy and forget everything how come they are not RAGE ( okay maybe this is to bias and personal) when this nation provide nothing about our siblings information and also why they are not mention anything about their problem in ei stroy quest. Its nonsense! She is right in front of youu, ask about your siblings, ask about khaenriah, ask about ukmown god!!. How come they can just forget like that. Also mihoyo really waste the potential about twin things i thing ei will give us so much help bcs of the sympathy that we both rn lost our twin but noooo.

3. Kokomi seem lost some brain cell, she make a very succesfull grand intro but she become meh in act 3, how come a great strategist like her let the sus sponsorship slip just bcs they are desperate, not to mention her screen time is really small and her role seem so unsignificant and it feels lile she is a plain npc.

4. The awesome world quest that we have done doesnt get any mention at all! Inazuma owe us so much with cleansing sakura, thunder sakura, tatarigami, obarashi quest. It has so much potential that yae or ei or anyone else aknowledge what traveler has been done but nooo.

cracks knuckles... i suppose it's time for my promised dissertation. interestingly enough, you touched on a lot of the main issues i had with chapter III.

i think that if i had to pin the main issue, it's a lack of overall cohesiveness? we were jumping all over the place without the chance to ever flesh things out. inazuma is a smaller cast, but i feel like we didn't get to see any of them shine. since i'm most interested in the genshin characters, i'll break down my problems by going over everyone and their (lack) of impact on the story.

was ayaka not questioned or placed under suspicion for being close to thoma before his escape? i wanted to see her broken up over her duties as they relate to the yashiro commission, paired with having someone she genuinely cares about in danger. it would've been an interesting struggle if she was forced to choose one or the other. instead she just kinda took a back seat.

speaking of thoma, i don't even have anything to say, because he just... was there? for .0001 seconds. said "lol this sucks ig" and that's about it. i know we're going to get a story for him in the future since he's a 5* but i'm not getting my hopes up 😭 then in the raiden shogun's character story, man is peachy keen! be upset with the raiden shogun! have some inner conflict! even if it's just using loaded language because he's under surveillance for going against the raiden shogun, that'd be so cool. saying something like,

"Traveler, what's with that expression? Oh please, there's nothing to worry about. We're under the Statue of the Omnipresent God's protection. Nothing bad has ever happened here." *wink*

i also don't know what to say about gorou. he was... there....... i think. what is he fighting for? what are the stakes for him? what makes him place so much trust into kokomi? i'm out of things to say about him because i don't remember anything he did or said.

kokomi... oh kokomi... i was so hyped. so excited. i thought that maybe we could see a foil to the raiden shogun. that she'd have a moment where she's forced to realize, just like her opponent, sacrifices must be made that will hurt people who will never understand why she made them. or maybe something to show her military prowess. but instead she just accepts a mysterious patron's help (?), sees her people aging like the grateful dead from JJBA, and goes oh well. that sucks. what can ya do. oh bye traveler i guess, good luck with that. ????????????? HUH... similar case to thoma where she's gonna get a character story but like. she won't be the leader of the resistance anymore. that was her whole shtick. they took her shtick away. also she forced me to interact with more NPCs whose names i've already forgotten so i'm tilted about that still.

KUJOU SARA... AN INJUSTICE. A DISGRACE. a slap to my woman loving face. the build up was there. yae miko's comments about sara probably knowing the tenryou commission is involved in shady dealings, but is choosing not to think about it. sara being forced to confront reality and challenge her adopted father with the truth. being able to blaze a new path for herself in the process. when she started running to the raiden shogun i was ultra hyped up. sara, a devotee to the shogun for so long, was about to see her god interacting with the same people who led inazuma to this awful state. how would she react? would she stay ignorant, like yae miko so coyly said, choosing to look away in favor of following her god's footsteps? or would she be forced to recognize the raiden shogun isn't as divine as she once thought, and challenge her belief system?

we open the door to see the raiden shogun. the loading screen ensues. the camera pans to the ominous room, clouded in darkness, hinting at the ominous confrontation that is to come. the music takes a serious timbre. and then...

well fuck that potential character arc i guess. (we still don't know what sara made of any of this since she poofed out of existence from the story at this point)

kazuha also was handed a similar treatment. we've been with him for a while longer now. he is our introduction into inazuma, the one who first gets us emotionally involved by regaling us with the bittersweet tale of friendship that led him to becoming a wanted criminal. a kind soul who loves nature yet was dealt a cruel hand by fate, forced to watch his home nation turn into a hostile place, where his dear friend ultimately perished as a result. we get the scene with his friend's vision lighting back up. he parries a block from the raiden shogun, in the same area where his friend was killed by her. the parallels. the drama. except this time, he wasn't too late. he protected the traveler where he "failed" to protect his friend in the past. did he feel redemption at this? or was it a bittersweet reminder of what could've been?

WELL i guess we'll never know because we didn't get to talk to him again 😭 idk who got a bait and switch worse, him or sara. jesus christ mihoyo.

then we have signora. why is the raiden shogun talking to her? does she know about the gnosis being taken, and if she doesn't, what was her plan to get it from the archon? what does she think about scaramouche? and oh, okay, we're fighting here now. good fight + god tier music. pog pog. okay, now we've beaten her up, and raiden shogun wyd— wait no not signora her lore is still on CUPS not YET raiden shogun and— ah she's dead. okay. non nerds who didn't read artifact lore are going to know nothing about her. signora has such an interesting story, and yet... well. ok.

then we get raiden shogun redemption (?) arc. i was hype for this as well, though at that point, idk why i bothered being hype. i knew they were gonna do a cute power of friendship something or another, and i'm good with that, so long as it's executed well. what i was envisioning was like seven different buffs to correspond with the seven different visions, the dreams of those whose ambitions were stolen serving as the spear to penetrate the raiden shogun's heart of stone. maybe a hydro vision giving us extra healing for a time, with the voice acting over it being like,

"Even if the rest of the world forgets us, let our will carry you through this one final time. Succeed where we couldn't, Traveler."

so on and so forth.

but instead we got— you get the idea at this point. why bother spelling it out anymore.

at that point i was surprised the raiden shogun didn't go "oopsie woopsie!! we made a fucky wucky!!!" because that was the vibe i was getting. i love ei, don't get me wrong, but i wanted to see her challenged with what she had done to inazuma in the past year. maybe meeting NPC #2345259 who lost her sister to the vision decree or something, reminding ei of the love she held for her sister... being forced to come to terms with the extent of what she's done in pursuit of eternity.

anyway. please for the love of god mihoyo hire better writers for the main story. that is all i ask. thank you.

#genshin impact spoilers #answered #Anonymous

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n0bamak1s · 3 years

Text

mutual - mai zenin x reader

request: “Could you write mai x non-binary s/o, where mai is realizing that she has a crush on s/o, it'd be funny to see her reaction when the s/o get asked by todo before they spar, abt the kind of woman s/o like, and s/o just shrug and answer 'mai, i guess'.” - @814519

summary: reader seems to take a liking to mai, who refuses to acknowledge her schoolgirl crush on them, and todo somehow manages to be the one to get them to stop dancing around their feelings for each other. (genre: fluff, mutual pining, slice of life-y)

warnings: swearing, mentions of fighting, mostly just fluff

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i’m sorry to take a long ass hiatus again but i have some fics i’m working on rn!! thank you all sm for being so patient with how slow i can be T_T btw this one includes some very mild miwa x reader as well just as a heads up lol!

when you first transferred schools in order to master your cursed technique, your first instinct was to raise an eyebrow at your classmates. the lineup of students in your school consisted of a boy who might as well be a bodybuilder, a blonde girl whose hair seemed to defy gravity, an awkward looking stoic boy clad in traditional clothing, a girl with a gun holster on the side of her baggy pants who wore a bored expression as her gaze met yours, and a normal looking blue haired girl standing next to some rusty looking robot. with all their strange hairstyles and odd clothing choices, combined with how nonchalant they were about their mechanical companion, they might as well be the cast of some forgotten sitcom from the 80s.

after introducing yourself to your stiff new classmates, you were whisked away to be led to your dorm by the blue haired girl (would you call her a “bluenette”?) who you learned was called miwa. as you walked, you asked her questions about her cursed technique, to which she sheepishly smiled and explained how she was the most “useless” of the students.

in response to her shameless self deprecation, you simply scoffed and sent an easy smile her way. “you really shouldn’t beat yourself up like that miwa, if you do it’ll be much easier for your opponents to.” despite the teasing nature of your words, you really did hope you’d managed to encourage her a bit.

miwa turned to you with bright eyes and a sincere smile. “that means a lot, really! it’ll be so nice to have an upperclassman here who isn’t so intimidating. i’m always so nervous to ask mai for help with stuff, so it’s nice to know you believe in me!”

her smile was infectious as you mirrored your junior’s facial expression. “there’s no need to be scared of them you know, believe me, just because they’re older doesn’t mean they have any idea what they’re doing.”

she shrugged in response. “i guess you might be right, this morning mai was practically shaking in her boots about getting to meet you, so maybe it’s all just a tough facade!”

you thought back to the girl who had introduced herself as mai.

what first caught your eye was the way she carried herself. while next to her other classmates as she introduced herself to you, arms crossed over her chest and back straight, as if it was an attempt to look high and mighty. rather than a proper introduction, she simply told you her name, before looking away boredly. the both of you chose to ignore the way todo teased her, before turning to introduce himself with a smug smile. he opened his mouth to seemingly ask you something, but was quickly cut off by mai stomping on his foot, sending him a harsh look. she glanced back at you with a slightly softer expression and a monotone apology for “his idiocy.”

you chuckled quietly at the idea of the girl who presented herself as so blunt and cold getting all nervous at the idea of your arrival.

breaking you out of your reminiscence, miwa waved her hands in front of her nervously as she turned to you. “just please don’t tell her i said that!” her guilty expression rivaled that of a kid who’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

before she could continue in her nervous exclamation about how intimidated she was by her senior, you grabbed her hands that had been motioning wildly to match her words. “don’t worry miwa, i’d never sell you out like that.” you let out a small chuckle as you examined the genuine worry on her face, to which she just sheepishly smiled. it was funny to you how scared she seemed of her seniors, but it couldn’t help you from getting an odd urge to want to protect the small girl.

“besides,” your smile turned sly “, if what you say is true, i bet mai would be too shy to even talk to me!” a loud laugh escaped your lips as you continued your way down the dorm halls with long strides. behind you, miwa sped up when remembering she was supposed to be the one escorting you to your dorm.

“come on, that’s not fair to hang it over my head like that!” she whined as she managed to match your pace.

as miwa trailed ever so slightly behind you, you caught sight of a newly familiar head of dark hair (under the fluorescent lighting you couldn’t entirely tell whether it was green or black.)

“mai!” you called out to the girl you’d been newly acquainted with, raising one hand in greeting and slinging the other around your very embarrassed looking juniors shoulders.

the girl you’d shouted to turned to you with heavy lidded eyes that gave her face a bored, almost annoyed, expression. her turning your way was quickly followed by todo, who you guessed had been standing next to her, glancing over the hallway corner to meet your gaze. those two made an odd pair, from what you could tell. in contrast to mai’s impassive greeting, todo had introduced himself with booming confidence, before going on to complain to utahime that he’d have to leave in order to make it back to his dorm to score tickets for a concert featuring takeda. in the moment, you had to stifle a laugh at the memory of such an intimidating looking dude having a huge crush on an idol with absolutely no shame about it.

mai opened her mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off by todos roaring voice. “hey new kid!” his demeanor had been as confident as you remember, despite the fact that you were pretty sure he’d forgotten your name in the short time from when you had left to see your dorm. you gave him a smile and a lopsided wave in response.

“did you snag those tickets you were worried about earlier todo?”

“easily.” he bragged as if you cared about getting a pair of tickets for yourself. “however, earlier i meant to ask you a question, but SHE,” he pointed a thumb annoyedly at his companion, “very rudely interrupted me by stepping on my foot.”

“todo…” mai’s tone seemed warning as her eyes flickered between you and him.

“as much as i would LOVE to hear what your question is todo, i really do have to go unpack” you smiled abashedly, pulling miwa to your side, who nodded with wide eyes at how unphased you were.

“it might be better to ask when we spar later.” he shrugged. “that way i can really hear your impulse answer.” he crossed his arms, clearly to look intimidating.

“works for me! i’ll see you then too, mai.” you winked at her as you tugged miwa along behind you. mai huffed at your embarrassing show of flirtatiousness, but you didn’t miss the slight flush of her cheeks as she turned from you while rounding the corner.

even as you were close to the door of your dorm at the end of the hall, you could still hear mai berating todo for how embarrassing he was.

“i think she likes me.” a cat like grin overtook your face as you stopped in front of your dorm.

“utahime said your uniform would be folded on your bed, once you’re changed you can join us for sparring.” miwa smiled bashful smile. she’d probably chosen to ignore your previous statement in hopes of not being dragged into any drama.

“thanks miwa!” you grinned and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, to which she simply looked away timidly.

“it’s no problem, really.” she waved off your appreciation. “but between the two of us, i think you may be right about mai liking you.”

she bowed before running off, probably to get ready for sparring, leaving you grinning like an idiot in response to her revelation.

maybe the feeling was kinda mutual.

you were quick to change into your all black uniform pants and jacket, then breaking into a stride to the yard where sparring took place. that was, until you realized you were wandering rather aimlessly considering, you know, you didn’t really know where the yard was yet. peering around the hallway, your eye caught on an oh so familiar girl adorned in baggy black pants.

“hey mai!” you almost had it in you to feel bad for approaching her yet again.

almost.

“i’m kinda lost, d’you think i could walk with you?”

she nodded a yes in response, motioning with a hand for you to follow her.

after a one too many moments of awkward silence, you decided you’d have to be the one to bite the bullet and break it. “you know that thing todo was saying earlier about having a question he needed to ask me?” she looked up in a way that made her seem as if she’d just been brought out of being lost in her thoughts.

“what of it?”

“do you happen to know what it was? he seemed pretty serious about it.” well, as serious as todo could get.

to your surprise, mai attempted to stifle a chuckle, before a laugh managed to slip past her.

“it’s this totally dumb thing he likes to do.” she tilted her head slightly back so she looked at the ceiling as she talked. “to size people up, he likes to ask them what their type in women is.”

you let out a snort as you laughed, though you couldn’t say you were surprised.

“he seems like such a hopeless romantic, it’s hilarious.”

“yeah.” a soft smile painted her face. “but you’d better get an answer ready, if he thinks you’re too boring he’ll beat your ass.”

“really now?” you raised an eyebrow, to which she nodded in confirmation. “what does he classify as ‘boring’?”

she shrugged. “depends. whenever someone prefers personality he either beats the shit out of them or starts crying.” it was clear in her tone how exasperated her friend made her.

“what did you say? when he asked you?” you turned to face her fully, which made her realize how close together your faces were. for just a beat, she paused to examine your expression. despite your earlier teasing, you seemed sincere in your question. either you were oblivious to the blush spreading across her face, or you chose not to tease her for it.

before an answer could leave her parted open lips, she was interrupted by a voice calling both of your names.

“hey toshinori!” you smiled at the stone faced boy in front of you as you used mai’s shoulder as an armrest.

“it’s noritoshi.” the monotony in his voice made you stifle a laugh. “and you guys are running late for sparring, what were you even doing?”

her eyes glowered in his direction, clearly not in the mood to play hall monitor with him. “i was just being welcoming to our new classmate.”

he ignored her passive aggressive response and turned to you. “todo keeps asking where you are, so you might wanna hurry up.” with a swift turn, he began walking down the hallway with long strides.

once he seemed out of earshot, you burst into laughter, and from your arm you could feel mai’s shoulders shake from repressing a giggle.

“he walks like a goddamn penguin!” you referred to how his arms were wide at his sides and his stiff steps.

“him and mechamaru walk the exact same way, i’m starting to think he might just be a more advanced robot.” her dry tone was combatted by the way the corners of her mouth turned up in a lopsided grin.

“though, we should probably get going, even if i get a pass for being new here, i’m not sure how utahime would react to you being late.”

you didn’t notice how her eyes softened at your concern for her as you beckoned for her to lead the way.

“i don’t think she’d mind, after all utahime loves me for my pep and bubbly spirit.” her voice oozed with sarcasm while you smiled to yourself about how you’d managed to get her to loosen up.

the walk to the sparring field was quick, and it made you wonder how much time you two had taken just talking at the end of the hallway. you were greeted by the sight of your strangely styled classmates (plus the literal robot) beginning to split into pairs. before you could turn to mai with the question of partnering up, you were greeted by a todo with a firm hand on your shoulder.

“we’re partnering up, new kid!” it was more of a declaration than an offer. you smiled awkwardly as his shadow enveloped your figure, seeing mai be whisked away by momo out of the corner of your eye. if you’d looked close enough, you’d have been able to see the annoyed look mai sent at todo and the smug smile momo flashed at mai and her obvious display of jealousy.

you planted your feet on the ground that was caked in dust and prepared yourself into a fighting stance, with fists raised and legs steady. though it seemed you’d gotten prepared to defend from an attack that wasn’t coming. instead, todo marched over to you confidently. mai glanced over from her sparring, knowing exactly what was coming.

he called your name in his usual booming voice, which you were surprised he actually knew.

“what is your type in women?” he towered over you, his expression dead serious despite his absolutely ridiculous question.

feeling mai’s eyes trailing you, you glanced over to her. she mouthed something to you about not saying personality. you failed to hold back a chuckle, which seemed to snap todo out of his intimidating glower.

his gaze followed yours, which was still focused on mai for the briefest of moments.

“ohhhh i get it…you’ve got a thing for mai, huh?” he sounded like a child about to blackmail their sibling.

a furious blush overtook mai’s face practically instantly, while momo covered her mouth with a hand to suppress a laugh. you glanced between a boastful looking todo and a tomato looking mai.

“yeah i guess you could say she’s my type.” you shrugged nonchalantly, to which you could hear mai sputtering something about how you were just trying to embarrass her. miwa had a sheepish look on her face as she walked over to check on mai, though it only seemed to make her more flustered when miwa asked if she wanted to go to the nurse.

while witnessing the admittedly charming trainwreck happening in front of you, there was a moment for you to look back at todo.

“are you CRYING?”

“i have no shame in it. it’s like mai is my daughter and i’m walking her down the aisle at her wedding.”

“it’s absolutely nothing like that, todo.”

he ignored your blatant confusion at his reaction. “young love is so beautiful. you have my full blessing to date mai.” he sniffles and wiped his nose, then held it out for you to shake, to which you scrunched your nose in disgust.

“thanks for the ‘blessing’ and all, but now that we’re done with that, i think i should go spar with lover girl over there.” you threw your thumb over your shoulder to point to mai.

“you guys should join me and takeda for a double date! we can arrange a date once she finally answers my calls.” todo had a large grin, shameless about his tear stained cheeks.

“how about it?” you raised an eyebrow at mai, who had become significantly more composed in the time you hadn’t been looking in her direction.

“absolutely not.” she deadpanned, though her impassive look didn’t last very long as she leaned over to whisper in your ear, cracking a small smile reserved for you. “i’d rather we just hang out without that oaf, you know it’s embarrassing for them to see how you get me acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush.”

the moment paused for a split second for her to glance at todo, who was staring you down like a disapproving father.

“plus lord knows takeda isn’t answering him anytime soon.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

#mai zenin x reader #mai zenin imagine #mai zenin x you #zenin mai x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #mai zenin #zenin mai #jjk imagines

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izukuwus · 4 years

Text

As Long As You’re Here (I Will Live Like This)

A/N: day 14 of @birds-have-teeth‘s Izumonth collab. little incoherent rn last editing pass probably missed something pls be nice to me. title references the song Twelve Feet Deep by The Front Bottoms.

Summary: Your boyfriend comes to your house one day bleeding profusely. You pick up the pieces and chat about the future. (vigilante!Izuku x reader)

Warnings: some blood/wounds, a non-explicit level of injury + the ensuing first aid

Word count: 2700+

Logically speaking, you know Izuku is up to something when he's not with you. He's accident prone beyond the limits of accident prone. You honestly can't recall the last time you saw him where you didn't notice a new bruise or cut on him. The bruises can be explained easily—he's told you before he takes martial arts classes, he's taught you plenty a thing about self-defense so that's easy to believe, but the cuts?

You have to wonder whether his martial arts classes involve disarming each other with real knives.

The first time you noticed how deep his propensity to injury really went, he had a poorly-bandaged cut over his eyebrow that, sure, scarred up prettily (you'd be lying if you said it didn't make him ten times hotter), but was deep enough that you know it should've gotten stitches, even if he insisted on having just your help in the matter.

That was somewhere in the realm of eighteen months ago.

Tonight, he comes to see you after one of his classes and promptly almost collapses in your doorway, which is infinitely less concerning in light of the fact that he's bleeding all over your fucking carpet. Honestly, at first you don't recognize him. He's got on a hoodie you've never seen him wear before, a cheap mask tied around his eyes, and you almost call the cops before you recognize the tufts of green hair poking out of his hood and then the hoodie itself.

"Holy shit, Izuku" leaves your mouth somewhat before your brain catches up to the fact that you're not just looking at your boyfriend of looking at the vigilante Jackrabbit that's been giving both cops and local pro heroes hell for ages, not to mention the villains. No one could ever seem to figure out his quirk, either, so they couldn't track down the vigilante via the quirk registry, which makes a hell of a lot of sense when compared with that fact that your boyfriend is quirkless.

"S-sorry," he coughs, flashing you a brilliant smile as you pull his hands away from his abdomen. "My base was a bit too far. Didn't mean for you to find out like this. C-can I ask you for some first aid?"

"Okay, okay, okay, just... come on, let me get you to my bathroom so you don't bleed on absolutely everything. Can you walk a bit further for me?"

He nods, biting his lip, and you loop his arm over your shoulder to support him on his way, kicking your door shut behind him.

"Take your hoodie and shirt off and hold this to the wound while I get ready," you order, sitting him down on your toilet and shoving a random towel at him. You rifle through your cabinets for your first aid kit, muttering mostly to yourself. "Honestly, you're lucky I've got a healing quirk and I love you."

"I love you too," he groans, shifting in his seat.

"Stop talking. We can talk about your 'martial arts classes' when I'm done saving your life."

He pointedly shuts his mouth, peeling his hoodie and shirt off in one go in a way that might be sexy if not for the way his blood is smeared across his side.

"What happened?" you ask quickly, kneeling in front of him and pressing the towel back against the wound.

He winces. "Thought you didn't want me talking, angel."

You roll your eyes. "Oh my god, can you stop joking around when you're literally bleeding all over my bathroom?"

"Sorry, sorry. I got, uh, I got shot." He admits this meekly, as if it's not something horrifically concerning. He's got one hand over his face the way he does when he's trying to hide his blush from you after you've teased him and he’s too embarrassed to look at you.

"Shot," you repeat calmly, gingerly pulling the towel away and preparing to properly clean the wound. "So there's a bullet and-or shrapnel in here, and I can't go straight to disinfecting or using my quirk."

"Probably."

You release a heavy sigh, forcing yourself to stay as calm as possible. "Alright. This is probably going to hurt. I'm sorry I can't hold your hand while I do this, baby."

He nods, biting his lip as you set about cleaning out his wound. When everything's good and clean, you take a few deep breaths and focus your quirk, not letting up until you're sure the wound is completely closed. You're still gentle as you wipe the blood away, though whatever pain he's still in is probably nothing compared to the way he felt before. The spot where he'd been shot is completely healed over, the only signs that it ever happened being the slightest scarring.

When you're certain that he's not losing any more blood and that everything is okay, you finally release a proper breath, dropping your head forward to rest on his lap. "You did a good job," you breathe against his thigh. "You should–you should get cleaned up. Take a s-shower."

"Are you okay?" he asks, like he didn't get shot tonight. Like your adoring boyfriend hasn't been moonlighting as a vigilante for god only knows how long. Like he couldn't have died if you hadn't had a healing quirk, like he couldn't get arrested and go to jail like his life isn't in danger–

"I will be," you say clearly, except it's too fast and shaky and not clear at all.

"Hey. Love. Look at me?" His hand rests on your head, grounding you, and you shift to rest your chin on his leg. He frowns at the sight, tugging you up and leaning over so he can bring you into a hug. "I'm okay," he whispers. "You don't need to cry."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"I... [Name], I'm sorry. I never meant to keep this from you." He's slow, careful in his words and the way his hands attempt to soothe you. "There wasn't... When we first started out, I didn't know if I should, and then I wanted to, but it was never the right time, so I..."

You sniffle, desperately trying to rein in your tears. "Izuku, you could have died."

"I saved someone's life today, though. I-I can't say I regret it."

You pull away to look him in the eye. "Please be careful. I don't want people I love getting hurt."

He nods, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'll try."

You peck his nose, intertwining your fingers with his. "We need to wash the rest of the blood off you. How are you feeling? Dizzy?"

"No, I feel fine. Got a bit of a stomachache, though."

You roll your eyes. "Huh, I wonder what could have caused that. Strip and get in the bath, idiot."

He lets out a bark of laughter. "Will you join me?"

You pause. You were going to go soak his clothes to get the blood out and maybe order some Chinese, but... "Give me five minutes and I will. I'm going to make sure the blood comes out of your shirt and your hoodie first."

He mock-salutes as you stand, and you leave the room on unsteady feet, Izuku's top and jacket in hand.

You soak them in the kitchen sink, the red of the water making you cringe. That's Izuku's blood. Izuku. Your Izuku. You plug the sink, shut off the water, and return to where Izuku is splashing water over the spots of blood he can find.

He doesn't notice your return just yet. Carefully, you slip out of your clothes, kneeling next to the bath to dip a hand in the water and run it across his back soothingly.

His back muscles jump beneath your touch, his head turning just slightly to look at you. "Everything settled?"

"For now," you hum, eyes trained on his back and the various scars and bruises there. Panic bubbles in your chest at the sight–how many near death experiences has he had that he's been shaking off? "I was gonna order Chinese, but I don't wanna be away from you right now."

"Want me to spend the night?"

"Please," you answer too quickly. "I just... I'll worry if I can't see you." You stand, carefully slipping into the water with him to help him rinse away the blood.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, resting his lips there as he murmurs. "Guess I should just move in so I don't have to worry you, huh?"

"Guess you should," you retort. Your hands roam his body, partially under the pretense of helping him clean off what little blood remains, but mostly because you're searching. "It's a shame, too. Must be a real hassle for you." A bruise under his rib cage. You heal it right away.

Izuku smiles against you. "As if I could ever complain about waking up with you every morning."

"As if you will," you snort. "Move in with me so I can make you sleep on the couch for a week for scaring me like you did."

"Surely there's some other way I could apologize," he declares with a dramatic gasp, one hand clapping over his bare chest.

"Start by laying back and not moving around so much, you'll splash water everywhere and I already have to get your blood out of my carpet."

He reaches for a shampoo bottle as he complies. You lightly slap his hand away with a playful glare. "No, you just got shot. You're not doing anything. Let me take care of you, Izu honey."

"But [name]–"

You cut him off with a soft kiss, capping the shampoo and beginning to massage his scalp. Now that you're at this stage, you're sure he has no willpower left to object. You snuggle up against him, shampooing his hair one-handed as you rest your head on his chest.

"I was serious, you know."

"About?" he borderline purrs, pressing his head into your touch.

"A lot of things, but mostly the scaring the shit out of me and the moving in with me parts. You don't have to, but I'd feel a lot better if you at least came back here after any patrols you do or fights you get into so I can heal you up."

"Won't that tire you out?" he protests. Everything sounds weaker when you're playing with his hair, but he does have a solid point.

"Using my quirk a lot will make me tired, but I get better rest when I'm sleeping in your arms anyway. More importantly, if I can keep you alive and well, I want to do it."

"I'm surprised you haven't said anything about me stopping the whole vigilante thing yet."

Your fingers still in his hair. Sure, you'd love it if he stopped. Nothing makes you feel worse than the thought that Izuku could be risking his life, but... "As much as I love you and want you to be safe, I want you to be happy, too," you admit. "If... If being Jackrabbit and giving all the local heroes and villains hell makes you happy, then I want to support that. Even if I'm really scared for you."

"Oh my god, marry me," he breathes, so fast and so faint you scarcely catch it.

"I'll marry you, but only if you buy me steak first," you hum.

"Deal. A steak dinner, and a ring. I'll try to swing that."

"You better, idiot. I want to spend my life with you."

It's his turn to go still now, freezing as you tactically drip water on his head to rinse his hair. "I-if you're serious, then..."

Cheeks heat up in tandem. "Of course I'm serious. I love you. I never want to lose you. The days I wake up with you are the best days of my life. I'd adore being married to you."

Strong arms wrap around you and pull you tight. "I-I don't really think I'm good enough to marry you just yet," he says. Firm kisses pepper the top of your head, mixed with a few hot tears, before he continues. "But someday, when I can... When I can be confident enough to not worry you, I swear we'll get married, if you'll still have me then."

You frown. "Izuku baby, it'll be a cold day in hell before I stop worrying about your cute, reckless ass."

"Hell freezes over every year, actually. It's a little town in the United States. Gets ice a lot."

"You would know that, nerd."

"I thought I was an idiot?"

"You can be both," you say with a pout. He chuckles and plants a few more kisses on top of your head.

The water is lukewarm when you both decide to get out of the bath. Standing before Izuku, you grab the fluffy towel before he can and begin patting him dry, pressing soft kisses against every scar and bruise that litters his skin. Soon, you move to kissing his freckles, too, and before long, you're kissing him indiscriminately as he laughs and tries to towel you off.

You're maybe halfway through kissing every inch of him when he uses the towel to pull you up and meet his lips. His arms are back around you in an instant. "I love you," he huffs. "I love you so much."

"Mm, love you more."

"No," he pouts. "You don't get to make that decision."

"What are you gonna do, stop me?" You punctuate your sentence with another quick peck to his lips, attempting to wriggle out of his vice grip. "Lemme go, cutie, I've gotta order dinner."

"Not until you admit that I love you more."

"Noooo," you protest, “I can’t make myself lie to youuu.”

Several loud knocks sound from your front door, causing both you and Izuku to freeze up. You glance at him with a worried look. "You wait in here, just in case."

"One moment, please!" you shout, scurrying into your bathroom. You quickly yank yourself into a pair of Izuku's sweatpants and a loose top, not bothering with underwear for the time being. Your worst fears are confirmed when you open your front door to find a pair of cops standing on your doorstep.

"Oh! Good evening, officers." You're suddenly very glad for your acting classes when you were still in school. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"We've received reports of the vigilante Jackrabbit being spotted running around this apartment complex," the taller man answers, producing a picture of your boyfriend from above, his face obscured by his hood. "We're asking if you know anything about his whereabouts."

You frown, putting on your best worried expression. "Isn't that dangerous? I can't say I know anything about it, though, officer."

The shorter man peers at your floor, then back to you with a worried look. "Do you mind telling us why your carpet's covered in blood?"

Oh shit. "Oh, that?" Your face goes blank as you try to think of an explanation. "Nothing serious, no need to worry. I cut myself super badly while playing with a pocketknife earlier, but I've got a healing quirk, so it's not an issue! I was more interested in cleaning the wound and getting into not-bloody clothes, so I haven't gotten around to dealing with my carpet yet!"

"Well, glad to hear you're alright, then. Be safe, and be more careful with knives goin' forward."

You nod, forcing a grateful smile. "Right! Thank you, officers. Sorry I couldn't be of any real help."

"You know, I hear that Coca-Cola's great for gettin' out bloodstains. Might help with your carpet, there."

"Oh! Great! I'll look into that."

"Give the station a call if you find any information about that vigilante, alright?"

You nod enthusiastically. "Of course! Anything to keep the peace. You both have yourselves a lovely evening while I try to get all this blood out of my carpet."

You wave the officers a good night, and slowly close your door, listening as their footsteps trail away to the next door in your building.

You find Izuku standing nervously in your bedroom, anxious eyes searching your face as if he didn't listen in to the whole conversation. Slowly, you press the top of your head to his chest. "We need to set some ground rules for your Jackrabbit hoodie if you're gonna live here."

He nods. "Talk about it over Chinese food? I ordered while you spoke with the cops."

"Yeah. We'll talk about it over dinner."

Tags: @tooloudarts @sapid-rose @xxangelpridexx @birds-have-teeth @icythotsenpai @warmchoccymilk @wesparklebitch @izoodles @fujimoribaby @my-bnha-things @denise-the-death-goddess @themerpenguin @sincerebubbles @themmmelissa @fudobaby

#midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #vigilante!izuku #my fics

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hieludoboi · 4 years

Note

Okay okay hear me out,,, Todoroki x a nb!reader,,, He finally actually confessed to them and the reader is just like cannot accept that Todoroki Shouto actually likes them. They're in total disbelief

A/n- Reader’s just standing there like “Me? Oh. That’s right, who else here is named Y/n” and Shouto’s kinda just standing there like ‘....’

A/n- Also! Just the thought of Pro Hero Todo getting like a scone or something sweet every morning before a patrol (I headcanon Shouto liking sweets, just idk, something about it just works for me) and slowly falling for the baker at his favorite bakery

A/n- I did a little research for how to write non-binary readers and such, and I feel like it’s kinda difficult to write for them unless specifics are given! Some non-binary individuals are masculine, other’s are feminine, some go by they/them, some by she/her or sometimes by zie/zim. I didn’t feel like it was right for me to write for these individuals specifically until I do a bit more research and learn to properly write for them!

A/n- Non-binary is a blanket term encompassing a whole list of genders/identities that don’t exactly follow societal gender norms! Sometimes non-binary individuals have gendered pronouns, sometimes they don’t! Since you didn’t specify I’m going to label this as a more gender neutral thing!

A/n- Update, I researched like two hours and I still don’t understand. My brain very fried no work from online classes brainrot but not by bokuto by staring at screen all dy. Someone pls give my pigeon brain examples on how to properly write for nb! readers rn or I’ll pull out the glock >:(

Pairing- Pro Hero! Shouto / Gn! Reader

Summary- So he was serious?

Warnings- not really?

It was a mundane Tuesday morning. The sun had yet to rise, slowly peaking over the city’s skyline, yet somehow getting lost among all the trees and towers. As with every morning, Y/n started off their day by preparing for their day. A quick shower, followed by washing their face and brushing their teeth. Before they knew it, they were trudging out of the house and making their way to the bakery to prepare for the morning rush.

Y/n was quirkless in a society plagued by quirks, an average day to day citizen if you will. They didn’t mind, in fact, life even seemed a bit easier when they didn’t have to worry about controlling some strange and odd power. The rest of the world, however, couldn’t begin to fathom how they even managed to lead a life without a quirk.

Stifling a yawn, they made their way to the front door, unlocking it before closing it and locking it behind them. If the day went as planned, which normally it didn’t, they’d have scones, muffins, and croissants all out and freshly baked by six. Bear claws, donuts, and danish pastries would be out by eight, all the rolls and loafs would be done by ten and by eleven they could hopefully get started on the sugary sweets that their younger costumers seemed to enjoy so much.

Their morning dragged on as usual. One by one the rest of the employees pooled into the back kitchen, kneading dough and making batters to pour in to tins or mold into shape. Grunting, Y/n picked up a tray chocked full of scones and made their way towards the display cases, setting the tray atop the display and carefully arranging the scones inside. Looking up at the pretty light blue clock, Y/n hummed. Their day rarely went as planned, but they could always count on Shouto coming in once the clock hit six-thirty.

“Waiting on Mr. Pro-Hero?” Y/n turned around, feeling the heat begin to seize the apples of their cheeks. Sputtering, Y/n turned around, ignoring their coworker and instead focusing on arranging the last of the scones.

“Come onnnnnn! How are you so oblivious!” Y/n huffed, quickly standing up before thrusting the empty tray into Hina, their coworker’s, hands. “Y/n. He likes you!!” Hina groaned, following a wordless Y/n back into the kitchen.

“Hina. No he doesn’t!!” Y/n mocked Hina as they slid a tray of muffins into the oven. Hina grunted, pulling out a giant bowl of risen dough before letting it fall onto a flowered counter top. “Besides, he’s rumored to be dating Creati,” Y/n pointed out, dusting their hands off on their apron.

“They’re just ru-” Hina rubbed her temples, watching as Y/n made their way towards the front at the sound of the little bell ringing. When would they stop being so oblivious?

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

Nothing seemed to go right that morning. While on his usual morning patrols, Shouto had run into Momo. While it was a welcome surprise, the situation was not. They had run into each other while battling a lowlife villain with a disastrous quirk. Damages were not kept to a minimum, and all Shouto wanted to do after being chewed out by local authorities was to go bite into a delicious scone at his favorite bakery.

“This could have gone better,” Momo sighed, rubbing her temples as they both surveyed the damage they had done to the small plaza. Shouto nodded, he couldn’t agree more. “We should probably go out west, right? If there were robberies here, there’s bound to be some in the shopping centre,” Shouto nodded, Momo had some nice ideas.

“We can stop by a bakery there too, I know a place that makes some nice scones,” Shouto explained as they walked, a subtle smile on his face at the thought of the baker that awaited him every morning. “What time is it?” SHouto asked, turning to look at Momo.

“Oh, it’s around seven-thirty, why?” This morning could not have gone any worse for Shouto. First, he has to stop villains at the crack of dawn, and now he’s going to miss out on scones? Admittedly, they didn’t sell fast, but the bakery didn’t make a lot of them either.

“No reason,” Shouto shrugged. He hoped he wouldn’t miss Y/n.

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

Y/n sighed, watching as the seconds ticked by on the clock overhead. It was eight already. Shouto was never late, ever. The man had a thing for punctuality, and even when everything was going wrong, Y/n could always count on seeing their favorite customer before the sun fully rose.

“Pretty boy ain’t here yet?” Y/n stood up, turning to look at the smug grin on their co-worker’s face. Curling their lip and rolling their eyes, Y/n went back to slouching over the counter, resting their chin on their palm as they zoned in on the glass door ahead of them. “C’mon boss! Cheer up, we’ll never make any sales with a grumpy face up front!” Y/n frowned seemed to become deeper, rooting itself in their brows and lips.

“And I suppose having a super buff woman who looks like she can pop your head off with a squeeze of her biceps at the counter will allure customers like nothing ever could?” Y/n teased, grinning as Hina flexed her biceps.

“Children adore me. They see me and are amazed by the ‘big muscle woman’,” Hina gloated, wiggling her eyebrows while continuing to pose behind the counter.

“Yeah yeah, go help Kohaku before he breaks an arm trying to knead the dough,” Y/n grumbled, pushing Hina into the kitchen so they could focus on the sales upfront. Kohaku liked decorating cakes, but every once in a while he’d have to knead dough while Hina helped Y/n arrange things up front.

Picking at their nails for a minute or so with boredom, Y/n’s head instantly popped up as soon as the bell on the glass door chirped. Their eyes instantly attatched themselves to the blue suit before them, almost completely ignoring the red latex that stood beside it.

“Shou! I was starting to think you’d... never get here,” Y/n’s voice was filled with excitement at first, immediately dying off at the sight of Creati, who stood right next to him. Offering the pro hero a pleasant smile, Y/n grabbed their gloves and tray, their tongs hanging off a little hook on the display case.

“What can I get for you two?” Y/n asked, the bright smile that usually reached their eyes seeming to drown before it could fully rise. Shouto frowned a bit to himself, wondering where the usually happy and bright baker he had grown so used to had gone. Was he maybe reading too into it?

“Oh! I’ll a pumpkin walnut muffin! They look so good!” Momo praised, delicately pointing to her preferred muffin through the glass case.

“Thank you, made the recipe myse-”

“And we baked them!” Y/n winced at Hina’s booming voice, opening their eyes as soon as it died out.

“Sorry about that, you’ll come to find that this bakery comes alive after a certain hour,” Y/n explained with a giggle, placing the muffin on the tray they held. “And you, Shouto?” Y/n asked, tilting their head a bit as they awaited his answer.

“The usual,” Shouto made sure to offer them a grin, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit as he watched Y/n set the tray on the counter.

“Lucky you, I made sure to save one just for you!” Y/n hummed happily, reaching for the last scone before placing it on the tray. Shouto could feel the shy smile subtly spreading on his face, did they really save on just for him?

“I’ll pay, it’s the least I can do after you helped me out earlier today,” Momo said, turning to give Shouto a smile.

“Right, thank you, Momo,” Shouto gratefully accepted his scone, waving goodbye to Momo as she left the shop. Shouto preferred to eat his scones at the shop anyway.

“Are you not joining me today?” Shouto looked up, a confused look on his face as he watched Y/n fidget behind the counter. They would always snack on a danish pastry and sit with Shouto before he had to leave again. It was routine at this point.

“Oh! Right, sorry,” Y/n muttered sheepishly, snagging a pastry from the display case before heading over to Shouto’s usual spot by the window. For the umpteenth time that day, Shouto could feel himself frowning. He wondered what was wrong.

“S-so you and Creati?” Y/n asked, taking a small bite from the sweet bread that sat in their hands. Shouto looked up, eyes widened in surprise, midway through a bite of his scone. Was that what this was about?

“She helped me stop some villains this morning, that was all,” Shouto explained. Y/n hummed, nodding their head as they started to pick at the jam filled sweet in front of them. “Oh, uhm...” Shouto mumbled, his brow furrowed as he began to search his pockets. Where had he left it?

“You okay, Shou?” Y/n giggled, amused by the way his face had contorted when he began to search for his little mystery item.

“Yeah, fine... Oh! Found it,” Shouto muttered, pulling out the small box that had resided in his pocket since the day prior. “Here, for you,” Shouto mumbled bashfully, sliding the velvet box across the table to Y/n.

“For me? Shou... That’s sweet, but you didn’t have to,” Y/n explained, gently sliding the box back to Shouto. Accepting gifts felt odd, especially if they were from Shouto. They could already imagine what ridiculously expensive gift sat inside.

“Please, open it?” Shouto asked, sliding the box back across and making sure to set it in Y/n’s hands this time. Y/n gasped, eyes wide as they felt the heat rush to their face. Open and closing their mouth in a flustered fit, Y/n finally decided to delicately pry open the box, eyes tripling in size at the sight of the gold chain anklet studded in pearls that sat in the box.

“Shouto... No, I can’t accept this,” Y/n insisted, shaking their head profusely, shutting the box and trying to put it back in Shouto’s hands.

“You can, and you will. Can we go out sometime?” Y/n could feel their jaw drop to the floor. First the anklet and now he’s just asking for a date like it’s a regular Tuesday?

“M-me?” Y/n asked, looking around the shop, the confusion settling in their eyes, locking their mind in some sort of fuzzy haze.

“Yes, so, will you?” Shouto asked once more, amused by their cute little reaction.

“Uh, sure... Sure...”

“Cool. I’ll pick you up at seven,”

“But we don’t close untill-”

“THEY’LL BE READY BY 4!”

“Hina-”

“I SAID YOU’LL BE READY BY FOUR DAMNIT!”

“I’ll be ready by four!”

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried.

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now.

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung.

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police.

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact.

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions.

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.”

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back.

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either.

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?”

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing.

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?”

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.”

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure.

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly.

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos.

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.”

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan.

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone.

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?”

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly.

“Well, do you know where she is?”

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.”

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers.

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.”

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!”

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.”

A victim?

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.”

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he?

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest.

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up.

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days.

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?”

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge.

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.”

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.”

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do.

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand.

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace.

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home.

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life?

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went.

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well.

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands.

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.”

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.”

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.”

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it.

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you.

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you.

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees.

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.”

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole.

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.”

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much.

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.”

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them.

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.”

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.”

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.”

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.”

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.”

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.”

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out.

“So does your Jungkook do film too?”

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.”

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—”

“God this is so weird.”

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?”

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.”

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?”

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.”

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.”

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch.

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt.

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly.

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely.

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.”

“Done and done.”

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast.

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.”

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.”

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you.

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection.

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures.

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Will you… fall in love with me again?”

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer.

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.”

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.”

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.”

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time.

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face.

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile.

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.”

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.”

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1.

When you wake up, it’s loud.

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals.

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months.

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand.

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!”

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice.

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!”

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that.

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning.

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon’s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.”

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!”

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion.

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?”

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.”

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook.

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed.

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip.

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.”

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you.

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you.

#jungkook fic #jungkook angst #goldenclosetnet #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff

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softer-ua · 3 years

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in regards to what you pointed out a few posts ago, ngl one of my least favorite fandom things is when they make Kaminari the Har Har Stupid Joking ADHD Bi Playboy Who Is Never Serious Trope. like, he's very smart, 'worst in ___ area of a UA course' is very impressive and I don't remember if it even said that or just that he was studying with some other students, worried about his grades overall, calls himself stupid with implied insecurities about it, and didn't think he was very smart compared to the other people in the course. quirk overuse makes him loopy, incoherent, and think everything's funny. and yeah, he's a bit of a flirt and made a few perverted comments and actions that he clearly didn't think through that well. I'm pretty sure he's not ever stated to be bi in the manga because it was written by a coward, so I think people should think more about why they're associating and pairing together the idea of "hot flirty playboy who if legally able would sleep with everyone he meets" with emphasis or joke in the captions of whatever the content is on him being bi. I don't think this is inherently bad, even put together, but the execution feels kind of :/ and shallow. and I mainly just wish they'd pause to consider if there's any reason (subconscious or intentional) why one of those makes them think about the other, and at the very least lean back to see if they're blatantly making those traits centric around each other and tweak how they're showing them a little. Part of this is also because it's basically his fanon sexuality, but then they stick together "oh he's bi and everyone thinks that" and "he's made flirty or perverted comments and actions in canon at some point" and then mentally exaggerate and have this Canon Image of him as *waves hand at above* and I don't think that's happening consciously in most cases but. again. Cookiecutter Bi Party Playboy Who's Made a Date Offer to Everyone In The Building. not a flirty Person or a Playboy who is bi and flirts with more than one genders

I myself headcanon him as adhd and while the exact sexuality depends on my mood I think of/have him as bi in a lot of my content, but it's the same thing with why non adhd people see how he acts and label "adhd!" Especially about comprehension speed and derpy acting and intelligence and attention span jokes/tropes. Again, not bad in and of itself, but the specific parts of his behavior that make them think he's adhd, or that they start making jokes about or Ha Ha ADHD'ing, or that they think is why we project ADHD on him, (which they aren't necessarily wrong about, but like right in a really disrespectful look at how funny this is oh look squirrel way that's only funny when adhd people are doing it and it isn't all mocking like that) when they see other people calling him adhd, are the wrong ones, I think, and it shows in their characterization of him.

I'm not saying that any of those traits are bad in a character, but as a queer adhd girl with very high annual test scores and Gifted Kid Intelligence but extremely poor grades, focus, and brain damage (admittedly nothing like his, it was a longterm passive thing that mainly just made me have a Lot of Really Bad headaches, and closest thing it did to me was make me sluggish and emotional on bad days and also techincally have the potential kill my language bit if left untreated or the surgery messed up, which it didn't, and it won't be a problem again. but even after explaining that it wasn't cancer or any sort of tumor, and after seeing it do very little at all to affect my behavior outside of irritability and performance, because y'know, constant migraines, gone after the surgery but this was before that, Certain People I Was Vaguely Kind Of Acquaintances With started to treat my like I was a fragile glass thing going to to drop dead and revive myself speaking like a comic relief cartoon crazy person at any moment which was. patronizing.) I've since had surgery for, the way the fandom combines them into stereotypes and portrays them really just rubs me the wrong way- "Flirty Bi(tm) Playboy" "Har Har ADHD Can't Focus Or Get Things After They're Explained To Him, He's Still Confused And An Idiot" "Stupid Person With Brain Damage Who Can't Take Care Of Or Think For Themself And Acts Stupid And Funny For People To Laugh At" which tbh is super ableist even and especially when people irl do fit that description, and also reminds me of the Autistic Person Freaking Out And Being Dramatic sense of humor. And I know it's not helped by canon, because it done for comic relief and to limit his powers, but explored more I think it as a limitation could have been used way more interestingly than canon did and also call me biased but that quirk induced brain frying sounds at least as concerning as Izuku's quirk's backlash.

And it's a shame!! Because he's so much more interesting than that! Instead, the fandom gives me the Cookicutter Funny Bi ADHD Flirt Who's An Idiot and I am sad about it.

tbh it reminds me of what happened to percy jackson, esp with the ADHD Idiot Trope thing. which sucks because apparently it originated in the author making up stories around characters like his adhd and dyslexic kid inspired by Greek myths to tell him after running out of actual myths because it was his special interest and he wanted more. and then the series got kind of all over the place and the fandom processed that the adhd and dyslexic main character who does dumb things sometimes but is very combat smart and great at strategizing and leading gets bad grades and has trouble focusing and has, y'know, adhd, and made him the ADHD Idiot and erased his Gifted Kid girl friend's traits and ADHD and dyslexia into No Nonsense Calls Him an Idiot And Thinks He's Stupid And Has To Tell Him What To Do And Manage His Life For Him and honestly that just kind of sucks and it reminds me of what happened to fandom Kaminari. and now that I think of it people have jirou like that around him a lot too.

im fine with you answering this publicly if you want or have something to add but probably tag as ableism and maybe a biphobia mention content warning for people who don't have the energy to deal with thinking about those kinds of negative things rn because I kind of Went Off About It

I love this! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences 💚(and double thank you for tag suggestions)💚

I couldn’t agree more that a lot of fandom has messed up Kami’s character, which is why I’ve kinda been posting more about him cause he’s just stuck in my head.

I think a lot of fandoms have trouble with characters like this, people have a hard time with duality in characters and fast/fun posts are easier to make if you flatten a character down.

The did it to Kami, they did it to Percy, they did it to Ron Weasley, they do it to Thor, the list goes on. If being the Smart One ™️ isn’t your thing and you can be goofy than you get pigeonholed into the idiot trope.

I feel for Kami a lot(probably because I have adhd/brain damage too)

It sucks when you’re smart but it’s not the traditional, measurable kind of smart(even if by national comparison Kami technically is).

I got terrible grades growing up, and I pretty much got the absolute lowest gpa you can get and still graduate. But absolutely no one would have known if I didn’t tell them, because I’m not dumb.

(It’s okay if you are “dumb”, I love me a head empty just vibes friend. You’re 100% valid, stil worthy of joining discussions, and should be listened to and taken seriously. This just isn’t about that tho)

I joke sometimes that I’m clever and witty but not smart, because that’s exactly what it feels like.

I have lots of thoughts and ideas that I think I articulate pretty well, I am excellent at finding the humor in things and expressing it in a way that’s funny to others too, and there is almost zero problems I can’t find a work around. And the people in my life love it, and they love to use it.

But eventually everyone in my life finds out that I’m not smart. They see the way I have to pause to Google how to calculate a tip, that I don’t know the name of all 50 states or even where to find them on a map, or I legitimately just can not spell (if you ever see a post where it looks like I used a weird word choice it’s probably because I tried 4 times and autocorrect+Google couldn’t help me and voice to text wasn’t an option)

No one ever questions my intelligence until they find out about my adhd and/or catch me struggling with it. After the mask comes off it’s like they can’t even hear me anymore, nothing I say could be true or matter because I’m now just the goofy accident prone spacy girl. My family literally calls me Spacy

And ya know what sometimes I just let people think that because it’s easier, it’s easier than explaining that I’m dyslexic and that I didn’t have a single geography/history clas until 10th grade and shocker the capital of Iowa doesn’t come up much by then. And it’s easier for me to laugh off losing my keys again than dwell on the fact that sometimes it feels like I’m losing my marbles.

And I wouldn’t be at all surprised if after this post I get a lot more “fact checkers” and push back on anything else I post.(not talking about people who want to genuinely engage,y’all are always welcome, I’m talking those people who don’t wanna look it up themselves but no longer trust me to know what I’m talking about)

Kami is a sweet brilliant boy. He’s in a nationally high ranking school, he loves the weather channel, he’s careful about his quirk that could easily hurt his friends in combat, he has a very high emotional intelligence level, he wears dorky shirts with electricity puns on them, and he pays attention to his friends and remembers a lot of little things about them.

He wants to be a hero and he takes that seriously, and the series has tried time and time again to tell y’all that smiling and laughter are an important part of that. Kami excels at this part! So what if his history grades don’t rival the top of the class, the top 5 students would struggle hard to do what Kami does.

Iida can’t relax, Momos rather shy, Todo struggles with social cues, Midoriya is canonically not funny, and jfc where to even begin with Katsuki. I’m certain they’ll all grow up to be excellent heros in their own right, but none of them are going to bring the level of joy and camaraderie that Denki can. You can’t test that into someone.

Kami also just notices people differently and has any easy way of joining in with them, he doesn’t struggle approaching Katsuki or Shinso. Sure he doesn’t hit the the nail on the head the same way Deku does but he’s the only one who has the guts and skills to try. Also he’s not that kinda friend, he’s not looking to a save these guys but pal around with them

I think Kami 100% realizes what a special case and tough nut to crack Bakugo is, I don’t think he’s just careless or too dumb realize his life’s at stake or whatever.

I think he’s purposely testing Bakugos boundaries all while trying to not be a threat to Katsukis actual ego and calling Bakugo out when he needs it in a way that not to serious. Kami knows how to be just goofy enough that he’s approachable. He’s also keyed in that the way to Bakugo is through Deku, meanwhile everyone else is stuck believing the opposite.

Kami also realized how important music is to Jiro and saw an opportunity to let her display her skills and combin the two worlds she lives, and he wasn’t afraid to get some back lash from her for it.

Like Deku Kami isn’t afraid to be uncomfortable. You really can’t teach that level of social ease, you can teach the posture and feed people a couple of lines but it’ll never hit the same. Funny approachable people have spent a lifetime learning the craft, usually out of necessity.

It’s actually what gives me the biggest adhd vibes from him, because adhd is (speculated to be) a dopamine deficiency disorder. People with adhd are constantly trying to raise their dopamine levels, and that means looking for praise and reward and nothing makes the human brain light up faster than postative human connections.

Adhd children struggle a lot with connecting with peers and often find making people laugh a fast way into people’s circles and makes it more likely people will overlook being interrupted or spaced out on.

Also adhd people are pretty much forced by their own brain structures to be genuine in all they do, low dopamine levels make it very hard to do things you don’t enjoy because there no promise of dopamine from the activity and you don’t have enough to spare, plus impulsiveness makes it really hard to not show when you do or don’t enjoy something.

I agree that Kami is also painted as overly perverted at times, he’s a little flirty but in a fun casual way but it’s not the foundation of his personality and it’s really mellowed out over the course of the series.

And while I subscribe to the bi hc from his interactions with Jiro and Shinso, we should all be very mindful that we don’t lump these characteristics together. The are separate facets of his personality that are not dependent on each other in anyway.

Kami deserves all the respect and love, I can’t wait to see our electric king again 🖤⚡️🖤

#tw ableism #ableism #tw biphobia #biphobia #softy answers #I have a sorta sad one shot about Kami and his quirks effects #should i post it?

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glitteronadumpsterfire · 3 years

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I'm a fucking wreck rn I haven't been sleeping for a week and I'm getting some rest from the bullshit factory that is my brain only now, but I just wanted to say that last year for me has been saved by tumblr and all the friends I made along the way.

Before you go below the cut, a special thanks goes to the Bee Movie Anon, who, rightfully, I can't tag so I have to say it here in the hope that they'll see it. Your hunger for chaos made me feel a lot of emotions, and I'd have never in any time or space thought that the Bee Movie would be such a prominent part of my life as it is now thanks (read it with a note of sarcasm) to you. Thank you for providing us an infinite amount of both entertainment and suffering, hell, some of the friends I made were because of YOU. I'm still not sure what was your drive to go and start this absurd crusade for the bee movie in the 80s metal fandom, but I don't know, I don't think bee so, I'm not gonna question your ways.

@arnold-layne being the first in line, you kept me sane somehow in the first phases of quarantine and dedicated a lot your time to talk with me and helped me enormously with creativity. If it wasn't for you, that Cyberpunk Comic That Is Kinda Inspired By The Crüe and Shout At The Devil would've been already down the drain. I would've given up probably, because I didn't know how to exted the concept and have an actual plot. A dream that I've been having for literal years wouldn't even have such cool characters with a rich storyline if it wasn't for you. I know I kinda left it after a month or so of intense brainstorming with you, I was literally drained at that point both physically and mentally, but oh boy I haven't forgot about the characters that WE created. How could I after all? Russ being the wreck of a tormented junkie protagonist that he is, Dylan the happy-go-lucky fuck up that seems to do nothing right but with the best intentions, Frankie the runaway sassy and wary androgynous teenager whose gender is a mystery even to themselves, and the epitome of the found family trope, ex gov agent part Japanese, part Russian, part cyborg Vik, whose story isn't still clear yet but we'll give him a very good one, eventually.

You gave me the curiosity to read fanfiction again after literally NINE YEARS of being distant from that part of the fandom and honestly I don't regret it one bit. In fact, I discovered literally my favorite writer in fanfiction. That is you, Arnold. I don't care how frequently you write, I don't care if sometimes you can't do your best. I'll always be there waiting for the next chapter and I'll always think that your art is sublime. I'll have to admit, I don't read your works as often as I should. But it's because I love them so much that I want to always save for later. It's like a drug, or a delicious cake that you want it to last as long as possible so you can enjoy it for much longer (I should be reading your fic more often either way tho like, at least so I can make more art for it. I'll make sure to change that this year and give you the recognition you deserve 🖤).

Everytime I make art, everytime I make a post, I always wait for your name to pop in my notifs. And fuck if I'm happy when I see it, and I rush to read your tags and it always makes my day. Like seriously, you mean so much to me and I admire how you can still be any amount of sane with all you're going through. You're strong as hell, keep going. 🖤

@i-dont-like-rice dude, how can I explain it. You're my best bud here. You're my chaotic sibling from another mother. The other braindead I share the single braincell I have with. The Nikki to my Tommy. Or the Tommy to my Nikki, I'm still not sure which of us is which (I guess I'm Nikki and you're Tommy? lmao it's ironic how even them are an italian and a balkanian) but you get the point. Every interaction we have, I laugh my ass off till my whole body hurts every time. I think I worried my mother and annoyed my sister at least a couple times for bursting out laughing for five minutes straight out of the blue, especially if it was late at night, and all the times, I swear it was because of you. You are as chaotic as you are kind, and it's always so disarming to see you worry or take care of others when you are definitely in a worse situation. Please, be more selfish, goddammit. For your own sake. And be more confident of your art. Draw shit and post it. Who cares if it's not perfect and you hate it and you don't want anybody to see it, it's tumblr, nobody will ever reblog it or give you the well deserved recognition anyway! So it's worth a try isn't it?

@no-stone-no-bone seriously, I'm so glad I met you. You're like the third element of chaos that holds me and Andi together. All three of us are literally unstoppable. You're extremely sweet too and I wish you the best, and DON'T HIDE SHIT IN THE TAGS GODDAMMIT 😂

@white-lightning-625 @viiinceneil I know we really haven't talked much, and we met through unfortunate times, but I'm so glad that something good came out of the chaos and drama, which is being able to talk to you and getting to know you both better. And the fics. My god, the fics. Frankie, I already told you this but MY GOD. I still find it incredible that I've read a fic about a band I didn't even know what they looked or sounded like and I was HOOKED from start to finish. And Katie, I should definitely read more of your works because I love what you've got going on. You're both very sweet and talented with a very distinct, beautiful way of writing and I can't wait to sink my teeth into the pulp of your work, because I know that by now I only scratched the surface.

@awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands Bruh, conoscere una fan su tumblr the parla la MIA STESSA LINGUA (e che ha pure il mio stesso vero nome lmao cosa sta succedendo)??? Che concetto innovativo!!! Le nostre conversazioni sono sempre disgiunte, ma non importa, adoro ogni nostra interazione. Sei seriamente una delle persone più dolci e gentili che abbia mai conosciuto. La tua creatività stimola sempre la mia. Le tue moodboard sono sempre 👌👌👌 e ogni volta trovo sempre qualcosa che sì, ci avevo pensato, ma mai nel modo in cui lo poni tu, e di solito sono una persona che resta vicina alle proprie idee, ma tu riesci a farmi alterare prospettiva, e trovo questo meccanismo mentale molto affascinante. Ti ricordi lo swapped instruments AU, con Tommy come cantante, no? Giuro che è un concetto a cui penso ancora dopo mesi. Spero di avere la capacità mentale per tradurre quell'idea in arte il prima possibile, perché cazzo, lo adoro troppo

@tattooed-lies thank you for providing the fandom the best gifs in the fucking platform and thank you for giving us the vinikki content that everyone, even if they're not aware, deserves and needs. Thank you for being the only Vince stan that I know. Thank you for being the sweetest person alive 💖

@nbtommylee honestly, I wish I was cool like you. Your sense of humor is impeccable, much like your critical thinking. I have never read something from you that wasn't a valid point. You don't talk shit and that's extremely sexy of you, y'know? And having a "gender dysphoria buddy" to be jealous of our Rockstar Gender Of Choice with is always fun to have, so that's definitely a plus. Can't wait to see (and read!) more of your art, I just love your style so much and you deserve to be Known

@metalmelkor @emometalhead @polka-dot-duff I'm always so happy to see you in my notifs and y'all are oh so very sweet and cool, we haven't talked much but I love every interaction we have, sorry for having the social skills of a stale piece of white bread 🖤

A special thanks goes to @awesomgrlgr8job bc you're literally one of my very first mutuals since I made the decision to make this dumpster fire of a blog and holy shit it's crazy to think about that. I don't even know if we ever interacted that much but it's always such a joy to see you around, ily and I hope you're doing well and thanks for putting up with my clownery for so long 💖

Like seriously, thank you all. I don't even know where I would be without you. Here's to another year of chaos, but only of the good kind 💖

#witchy.txt #I didn't think I would've rambled so much ahshdhjfjf I'm so sorry you have to go through all that #there are a lot of people I could've mentioned but we never really talked so I wouldn't have much to say #but believe me when I tell you that I love seeing you on my dash and in my notifs #I really mean that #and I hope y'all are doing well bc ily 💖

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theshipsfirstmate · 4 years

Text

Agents of SHIELD Fic: Tell Me I Got Here at the Right Time

finale and post-finale dousy spec. What if they had to fully reset the timeline before they could take it back? What if Daisy was left out of that decision?

A/N: Genuinely don’t know where this came from, other than I can’t seem to stop writing for these two. Also, I want to state for the record that I love Peggy Carter and shipped peggysous, but these two just have my heart and inspiration rn.

Title from “Here at the Right Time” by Josh Ritter.

Tell Me I Got Here at the Right Time (AO3 - wc: 4378)

They think she can’t hear them. In truth, Daisy wishes they were right.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” Simmons has regained a good bit of her sparkle since Fitz’s return, but the worry in her voice is what’s most evident now.

“I know. I’m not sure I do either.” There’s a muffled sound after Fitz’s response that Daisy guesses is Simmons swatting at his arm.

“It’s your idea!” she hisses. “What if-“

“Don’t even say it,” her husband answers. “And it’s not my idea. You know that.”

They choose that moment to step back outside, where Daisy’s wringing the nerves out of her hands, hoping to twist them into even more resolve before she steps into the makeshift portal. She knows Fitz has run over a hundred successful tests, has seen over half of them first-hand. But still.

He’s the one of the pair who meets her eyes first, so she hones in before he can try to talk her out of it again. “You promised.”

“I shouldn’t have,” he admits. He’s probably right. But he knows what it means to her, and they all know she would have found another way if he’d refused to help.

“But you did.”

“Yes, I did.” Fitz grimaces, hazarding a glance at his wife, who’s rubbing anxiously at her arms, and then sighs. “Daisy, are you really sure? If something happens to you…”

“I’m sure.” And she is. Danger be damned. “I’m going. I have to.”

She’s had more than enough of time travel. They all have. She’d be happy to never jump again for the rest of her life. But when she regained consciousness after that final battle with Malick and realized the sacrifices that had been made to defeat the Chronicoms for good, she knew immediately that she would be making at least one more trip.

They’d had to do it, the team swore, though they all had a hard time looking her in the eye. Everything, and everyone, had to go back to its rightful place before they could steal the timestream back from Sybil. Daisy didn’t fault them, but her heart broke down to pieces just the same when she woke up to find an empty chair at the foot of her recovery bed.

“He didn’t want to go. He made us promise to tell you that,” Simmons had told her tearfully, needlessly. She already knew.

It took her less than a month to come up with the plan, but a bit longer to convince the rest of the team -- and Daisy still thought of them as a team, scattered though they were now to their own concerns.

What sealed it for everyone else was a newly-discovered footnote from an historical S.H.I.E.L.D. ledger.

“According to public records, Daniel Sousa still died at the Hotel Roosevelt on July 22, 1955, like he was supposed to,” she’d explained on their video conference, even though the words burned in her throat. “But not long after, an underground faction of early S.H.I.E.L.D. agents started to assemble in the Los Angeles office. They organized in secret, and fought against the shadier HYDRA factions, every time one of its slimy snake heads popped out of the ground. They didn’t always win. But they did their best.”

“We know Peggy Carter was one of their leaders,” Daisy told the group. “But there’s no solid information on any of the others.”

“You think Agent Sousa faked his death again. On his own.” Simmons had been the one to put her pieces together, to say out loud the hope that was stuck in her throat.

“We gave him the blueprint,” Daisy nodded. None among them doubted his devotion to rooting out HYDRA, but she knew hope was part of what had her convinced, and she promised she’d weigh their approval before she’d risk her life. “It would be just like him to keep fighting.”

Fitz had mastered the tech in his time away, and had, of course, immediately started constructing a prototype in his backyard before she’d even thought to ask, much to Simmons’ chagrin. As it stands in modern-day Manchester, it looks like a simple phone booth -- a nerdy tribute Daisy’s dying to tease him about -- but he can calibrate it to any coordinates and time in the known universe. And she knows where she needs to be.

“What if he really is dead?” May had been the one to ask the questions no one else dared, though even she had waited for a private phone call to bring them up. “Or what if something happened, and he doesn’t remember you?”

“Then I’ll know for sure,” she’d answered, in part working to convince herself. There was perhaps a fate worse than being forgotten, in this case. “And even if…. even if he doesn’t want to come back, I’ll at least get to say a proper goodbye.”

It was clear everyone had their doubts, but even the most stalwart member of her found family couldn’t deny her that much.

“You’d better come back.” Simmons is tearing up again, and Daisy definitely cannot handle that right now. “Your goddaughter will be waiting.”

That’s been the hardest part of any of this. It had been a surprise when Fitz returned, just moments after they’d successfully banished the Chronicoms back to their own space and time. It had been a bigger surprise that he’d appeared with a pigtailed toddler in his arms, who’d immediately wriggled out of his grasp and wrapped herself familiarly around Simmons’ legs.

Their daughter was two, almost three, when Simmons forced herself to forget her, but she was brilliant, of course, and somehow made of even stronger stuff than her parents. She powered through her mother’s initial shock and dismay and overwhelming guilt, helping to mend all of their hearts in the process. (Fitz had also dutifully shown her pictures of her S.H.I.E.L.D. family, so she recognized “Auntie May,” “Big Mack” and the rest -- and had a special spot in her heart for “Aunt Dede,” which Daisy did not take for granted.)

“I’ll be back,” she promised. “You tell her to read Rocky a story every night for me.”

She and Simmons had stayed up the night before -- after putting the little girl to bed alongside her favorite cuddly toy -- talking through all of the possible contingencies. Almost none of them were worse than never knowing, never getting any sort of closure, her friend had agreed. Almost.

“You remember the order, yeah?”

“Yes, Fitz,” Daisy answers dutifully, trying not to roll her eyes. They’ve been over this fifty times, and drilled it in person at least ten. It’s more time and practice than they ever used to get in the field, on the fly. She’s itching to get a move on. “Launch, exit, cloak the device with the watch…”

“Then, when you’re ready to come back, de-cloak, enter and launch. It should bring you right back here.”

“No matter what,” Simmons chimes in, casting her a look that says much more than her simple reminder. “24 hours is the limit.”

“I know,” Daisy nods, nervously smoothing down her period-appropriate ensemble. “I just need to see him.”

Fitz and Simmons nod solemnly in unison -- if anyone can understand it, it’s them -- and with that, Daisy steps into the booth, preprogrammed with her coordinates, and hits the button on her modified wristwatch.

The jolt of the jump feels familiar, which she takes as a good sign, and when she steps out of the booth, a quick survey of her surroundings allows her to exhale a sigh of relief as she cloaks the pod.

Fitz had plotted out an alley next to the old SSR office in Los Angeles. They know from de-classified S.H.I.E.L.D. documents that the underground corps started in a hidden basement office of the same building, so that’s Daisy’s best guess as to a starting point. It’s a few weeks after his “death,” and if she knows Sousa, he barely missed a day of work.

She double-checks the lobby just to make sure she’s at the right spot, and then sneaks back around the side to slide in through a basement window well. She lands in some kind of storage room, full of file folders and cobwebs, and makes her way to the cluttered, dingy hallway, where, behind a closed, unmarked door, she hears a familiar voice that makes her breath catch in her throat.

“They need to keep thinking I’m dead,” he’s explaining to someone. But he’s not, and the relief is enough to make her brace herself on the doorframe. “And we need to find out what exactly Stark knows about what I was carrying, and more importantly, what he knows about who might be after it.”

Daisy takes a slow, deep breath and knocks softly on the door — and three things happen. First, she hears the conversation go silent, saved for a concerned murmur. Second, Sousa opens the door and she sees him for the first time in months, handsomely square as ever in a dark grey suit and pale green dress shirt. And third, she scans the room and realizes there’s a non-zero chance that she’s about to cry in front of Peggy Carter.

“Daisy?” Sousa’s eyes go wide when he sees her, and it’s hard to be concerned about comporting herself in the presence of the legendary founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. when she’s wondering if his heart is stuttering in his chest the same way as her own.

It hits her in that moment, how much she’s boxed away the memory of him, how much she refused to let herself mourn his loss. He’s right there in front of her -- the man who’d carried her out of Malick’s torture chamber on a bum leg and kept vigil as she healed, the man who’d pushed her towards closure with her mother when she needed it most, the man who had appeared in her life and upended it simply by being kind and loyal and supportive in a way that she’s never known another person to be -- and god, she’s missed him.

“Agent Sousa,” she grins, even as traitorous tears threaten to cloud her vision. “Good to see you again.”

He stares at her, slack-jawed for a long moment, saying only her name again, but softer, and that’s when she realizes she’s frozen too, helpless to move at the consoling sight of him. They only startle from their reverie when the third person in the room primly clears her throat.

“Pardon my manners.” Daisy moves past Sousa, hyper-aware of all the places she brushes against him, to finally break his disbelieving gaze and extend her hand. “Agent Daisy Johnson.”

“She’s CIA,” Sousa adds after her, and they both watch Agent Carter bristle a little, so he tacks on: “One of the good ones.”

“Well if Daniel vouches for you, it much be true,” the woman stands and straightens her skirt, still eying Daisy suspiciously as she reaches out her own hand to shake. “Peggy Carter.”

“Of course I know who you are.” This earns Daisy a small frown, so she scrambles to cover. “From Daniel… er, Sousa -- he’s told me all about the great work you guys are doing here.”

Another frown, and a glance at the man behind her. Daisy realizes after the fact that it would make a better compliment if the work they were doing here wasn’t supposed to be top secret.

“Are you alright?” Sousa’s brain starts catching up, and he reaches out, fingertips brushing against her waist, before pulling his hands back just as suddenly. “Is everything okay? How are you….here?”

“I…” Daisy hazards another awkward glance at Agent Carter, who’s looking at her like she just stepped out of a spaceship, which, honestly? Not far off. “It’s kind of a complicated story.”

“I’ll give you two a moment,” the other woman offers, her accent masking politeness over her obvious concern. “Then, Daniel, if you-”

“I know,” he answers, though he never takes his eyes off Daisy. “Of course, I-- thank you, we’ll just be a minute.”

“An honor to meet you, truly,” Daisy stutters as Peggy freakin’ Carter exits with a slightly disapproving eyebrow raised in their direction. Simmons is going to kill her.

Sousa closes the door and turns back to face her slowly, almost like he’s preparing himself to find an empty room. But the second his eyes meet hers, the paralyzing effects of surprise and awkwardness fade and Daisy rushes forward into his arms. Burying her face in his neck and catching the scent of his aftershave, she feels herself relax for the first time in a long time.

“Daisy.” He whispers her name, still sounding just as awed, but this time, it’s for her alone. “I thought… is this real?”

“Yes,” she nods into his shoulder, trying not to let him notice that the word comes out on a sob. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry they made you go. Sorry I wasn’t there to stop them. Sorry there wasn’t time to tell you. Like everything else when it comes to him, the apology is so much and not enough, all at once.

“Don’t be sorry.” He pulls back a little, takes her face in his hands and swipes his thumbs at the tears that are smudging her eyes. “Don’t cry. Please.”

“I woke up and you were gone.” She didn't let herself cry about it at the time, the combination of shock and other distractions keeping her emotions occupied. But every time she came to, alone in that healing chamber, was a fresh wave of heartbreak, and they’re all returning to her now, on a tide of tears. “And I--”

“I didn’t want to go,” Sousa interrupts, reaching down to squeeze her hands in his.

She just nods, still taking in the sight of him. “I know.”

“Why— how are you here now?” His brow furrows and she knows exactly where he’s gone, from shock to worry. “Is everything okay?”

It’s the kind concern in his eyes, the way he’s still steady and supportive, even when she’s dropped in from the future, unannounced, pulling the rug out from under him once again. (If she’s totally honest, it’s also the set of his jaw and the memory of how his chest felt beneath her palms.) Daisy lets herself give in, reaching up for his shirt collar in a familiar movement, and pulls him down to capture his lips. Just like before, he pauses for a second and then gives chase, kissing her back with a passion she thought she’d been exaggerating in her memories.

“Sorry,” she whispers again when they pause for a breath, even though this time she’s really not.

“Please don’t be sorry for that,” he grins, blinking his eyes open slowly. She remembers that soft look of wonder, from a stolen moment when there wasn’t enough time to bask in it.

“I just- We did that once before,” she admits, “back in the time loops. But you didn’t remember.”

“Well, now I’m extra glad you came back, if only to remind me,” he grins, and it makes her want to kiss him all over again. So she does. But he keeps this one quick, pulling back to ask again, “How did you come back? What’s the plan here?”

Daisy doesn’t quite realize what he’s asking at first.

“Fitz knocked off the Chronicom tech and built his own pod,” she answers, fluttering her hand to the side before bringing it back to his lapel. “I’ve got 24 hours before I’ve got to bring it back.”

There’s a question that goes along with her explanation, but she can’t find the words to ask it just yet, not when the answer could break what’s left of her heart. Instead, she tells him the first truth at the front of her mind. “I just missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he answers. His hands are warm around her waist and she has the fleeting thought that it’s been worth it, even if this is all she gets. And then, because she didn’t catch his meaning the first time, because some part of him knows some part of her better than anyone ever has, he just... asks.

“So, can I come back?”

Daisy goes light-headed with possibility. It can’t be this easy. “What?”

“Can I come back with you?” She watches for a joke in his eyes but it’s the same old earnest Sousa. “Will they let me? Will it… end the world?”

“No. I mean, yes. Are you sure?” She’s not even sure if her words are forming coherent sentences. Every relationship in her life has been fraught with conflict and heartbreak, for as long as she can remember -- and this one she just gets to have?

“Yes, I’m sure.” Now the teasing smile makes a hint of an appearance. “I’ve been wondering if you’d come back for me since the minute I woke up back in my old house.”

That confession hits her sideways, just like it had when she asked if he was the type who liked picking other people back up when they fell, and he’d looked into her eyes -- and even deeper -- and answered: “Not for everyone.”

She knows what the longing has been like for her. But she had so much more time with it than he did. They never even came close to defining this...thing, this flint of friction that gives off sparks between them, and still, he’s just been here. Waiting.

“You had goodbyes you wanted to say, loose ends,” she recalls, trying to clear the whiplash from her mind. The last thing she wants is for him to take the leap and regret it halfway down.

She shuffles a small step back, but unwilling to completely lose contact, takes one of his hands in her own, studying it intently as she offers him the easy out.

“Daisy.” Sousa lets out a little humorless laugh. “You know they had to knock me out to send me back, right?”

She didn’t know that, actually, and her fists start to clench in an instinctive response. But he eases them open, drawing her gently back towards him, and she follows.

“My loose ends aren’t in the past anymore,” he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the pulse point at her wrist. “I came back and I made my peace -- said what I needed to say to the people that needed to hear it.”

He glances towards at the door -- she’d known that one of those conversations was always meant for Peggy Carter -- and then back at her, and she believes him. Somehow she trusted him from the beginning, even when she had little more than his name and photo on an old S.H.I.E.L.D. file, and she trusts him now more than ever, even as a tiny bit of skepticism is still warring with her hopeful heart.

“But your team. The underground S.H.I.E.L.D. force. That’s you, isn’t it? You and Carter?”

“It is. And a few others. They’re gonna do good work, I know it.” She nods a confirmation. They will. “But I built it so I can lift right out. They’re a well-oiled machine already. Plus, everyone already figures my days are numbered.”

He’s been planning for this. For her. Of all the possible outcomes, she hadn’t even thought to hope for one where he was waiting with his bags packed, metaphorical or otherwise. He’s a constant surprise and it makes her heart leap to dangerous places every time.

“I went back to work because I’m devoted to the cause,” Sousa continues, “but if you think I haven’t spent every free moment trying to figure a way back to you, thinking about what I’d do if I saw you again...”

“Daniel...” There isn’t much more to say but his name, and even that’s difficult when her throat is thick with emotion.

“Unless you don’t want me to.” He saves her again, breaking the heavy moment by teasing her some more.

“Of course I do,” Daisy answers, swiping under her eyes. “But I’m gonna ask if you're sure a couple hundred more times.”

He nods, lips pursed. “My answer won’t change.”

“Okay, but we do have some time,” she reminds him with a nervous laugh, even as she’s starting to have faith in his certainty. “You want to sleep on it? Get some dinner or something?”

He grins even wider. “Yeah, you know, pizza sounds good. Your place? In about sixty years?”

She rolls her eyes at him, achingly grateful for even the hint of their familiar dynamic amid all this intensity. “All right, all right, old man. I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I do.” She reaches up to soothe her thumb over the crinkle beside his eye, another tiny detail she’s spent the last few months missing. “But you can keep reminding me.”

He catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm and promising, “I can do that.”

She takes a deep breath as he gathers his suit jacket from the back of the chair. Here goes everything. It’s not until they turn to leave that she realizes.

“Do you need to…”

He’s a little solemn when he catches her meaning, but she’s surprised when it doesn’t make her worry. “Give me just a moment with Peggy, and I’ll meet you…”

“In the alleyway,” she finishes. “I came in through the storage room.”

He nods, and tugs her close for a hard and fast kiss to her lips that has her still dazed when she grasps for the door handle.

To Agent Carter’s credit, she only looks slightly impatient when Daisy exits, pursing her lips as she brushes past her in the narrow hallway, unsure of what else to do or say. There’s an echoing silence that borders on uncomfortable, and then the other woman speaks.

“He’s been different lately,” she offers softly, like a secret, before she’s close enough for Sousa to hear, and Daisy stops in her tracks.

“I thought it was the obvious. I got the sense he was weighing his days after nearly dying. But he’s been waiting for you, hasn’t he?”

Daisy nods, sheepishly, turning back to meet eyes that impossibly seem to already know what’s about to happen. “To be fair,” she answers, truthfully, “I was waiting for him, too.”

The S.H.I.E.L.D. founder gives her a small smile then, and to her surprise, it’s one she recognizes from the mirror. It’s genuine, but sad, and Daisy feels it even deeper because she knows that an affection for the kind and loyal man waiting on them both isn’t the only emotional baggage they have in common. (A very small, very selfish part of her counts her blessings, though, that the other woman hadn’t been able to love Sousa the way he deserves.)

She nods in return, and makes her way back down the hallway, back through the cluttered room, back out to the alley, and back to where she first landed, where she ends up standing, waiting, twisting her hands nervously for the second time in just a few hours. But before she even has long enough to start worry that he’s having second thoughts, Daniel rounds the corner with a suitcase in hand and a grin on his face she wants to remember forever.

“You’re ready?” she asks. He nods, never breaking his stride or her gaze. “You’re sure?”

“I told you,” he assures, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “my answer’s not changing.”

“And Carter?” She takes his hand to step him back against the building, away from where their portal might appear. It’s only partially a distraction from an nerves that might be lingering on her face.

“She understands.” Sousa laces their fingers together and squeezes. “And I may have told her there’s a chance I could pop back around someday, if she needs me.”

He’s not totally out of line. Fitz had warned that the tech was to be used for emergencies only, but Simmons will surely convince him that anything involving Peggy Carter constitutes a proper emergency.

“She doesn’t seem like someone who would be very supportive of a team member jumping ship mid-mission,” Daisy observes, aiming for casual, as she uncloaks the device, which is, thankfully, right where she left it. “Pun not intended.”

“She’s not, usually. But I told her the truth.” A spark of fear lights inside her chest, but he puts it out immediately. “Just enough of it. I trust her.”

“Well, if there’s anyone who can keep a secret...”

Daniel ducks his head in agreement and adds softly, “And then... I asked her if there was anything she wouldn’t do, to have more time.”

There it is again, that cymbal crash of her heart that takes her breath away. Daisy’s never known a man like this, and while she knows the future is always uncertain, she’s grateful to the abstract laws of time, science, fate and whatever else that she doesn’t have to lose him to the past.

“So, where are we headed?” Daniel follows her into the booth with a hand at the small of her back. It’s a bit of a tighter fit than her arrival trip, but neither of them mind in the slightest.

“If the wind is right, English countryside, 2020,” she answers with a grin. It’s a bit of luck that threading her arms around his neck allows her to kiss him and press the button on her wrist at the same time.

“We’re going home, Agent Sousa.”

#first mate fic #dousy #daisy x sousa #daisy johnson #daniel sousa #sousy #daisysous #agents of shield #dousy fic #aos fic

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kotsume · 4 years

Text

my observations as a content creator :) warning: it’s long

if you’re reading this, don’t think too deeply about what i wrote - it’s just my analysis of fan blogs and some fandoms (so it’s all from my perspective). do what you want with this information, and feel free to lmk what you think ;)

*i tried to include as many anime-applicable blogs as i could remember*

multifandom reblog blogs (ones who track a tag):

@/allanimanga: lots of original content every day. does not reblog from tag anymore bc most members who had that job are inactive. i’m an admin and i’ve been told not to worry about reblogging from the tag, and just make content. has member privilege abuse from certain users; normally you make content for the blog and you get to reblog your stuff over in a 1:1 ratio, but they will just use the blog to promote themselves without contributing. it’s really sad but there’s nothing we can do bc most of the time it’s an admin.

@/animacia: was debating whether or not to put this one. reblogs mainstream anime (sailor moon, studio ghibli) and has a tag, but the tag itself does not seem to be actively used as the most recent post can see tagged for this blog dates back to june 2019 (more than a year ago). it’s an active blog regardless of slow tag activity.

@/animationsource: active, but very picky? idk man they either do or don’t reblog your stuff. it’s a hit or miss with them. seems to have member privilege abuse/preference (explained up there). not too sure if they have a queue or just reblog sporadically.

@/anisource: active. seems to run on a large, backlogged queue bc their tag is full of stuff that has yet to be reblogged. edits will probably take a while to be reblogged, but they’ll eventually get there!

@/dailyanime: new blog, but from what i’ve experienced, they will queue it, and your post will be reblogged in 1-3 days (it probably depends on how much is in their queue).

@/fyanimegifs: will reblog your stuff, but they have a very slow queue.

@/graphicsources: not really active; spontaneous at best. don’t count on them to reblog your stuff.

@/fyeahshoujo: not really active, but not completely inactive.

@/fysportsanime & @/sportsanimedaily: active. seems to have a backlogged queue, but just wait and you’ll be reblogged! it will take some time because there are lots of posts.

@/animangascenery & @/otomokatsuhiro (#oldanimeedit - changes url from time to time? that’s why i included the tag they track): inactive unless a member looks at the tag. in that case, they will most likely reblog the tagged post. typically mass reblogs/queues from the tag every once in a while.

@/bbelcher & @/fyeahmovies: will reblog ghibli and makoto shinkai stuff. bonus points if you have added a text description to gifs. 80% dependable.

@/filmgifs, @/filmtv, @/stream, @/movie-gifs, etc. (basically big reblog fansites that aren’t anime-oriented, but do reblog mainstream anime movies): 90% chance they will not reblog anything from you if there is no text description. add text descriptions to studio ghibli/makoto shinkai film gifs and make it pretty! use text gradients!! that will increase your chances of being reblogged by them. they don’t reblog seasonal anime.

a note: many creators use tags as a way of reaching a broader audience. it's really helpful for smaller blogs who would like to share their content to others, but do not have the means/numbers to do so. just bc some people don't utilize tags to their full potential, it doesn't mean it isn't useful, so pls don’t try to act superior to those who want more exposure. everyone deserves a chance at getting the attention they deserve for their hard work!

studio ghibli reblog blogs:

@/ghiblisdaily: great. amazing. i love them!! will reblog from you 99.9% of the time. probably the most reliable ghibli blog as of right now. uploads original content

@/fyghibli: used to be good at reblogging from tag, but has gone kind of inactive. i think they’re becoming more active again, but it’s very sporadic.

@/kikisdeliveryservices: they track a variety of studio ghibli related tags, and they do reblog a lot, but i don’t think they’re as consistent as ghiblisdaily. lots of original content.

@/oh-totoro: not really active, but when they are (and they reblog from you), your activity skyrockets.

@/dailyghibli: not active.

@/daily-ghibli: sometimes active, a little wishy-washy. they seem to be reblogging a little bit more consistently now?

@/princessghibli: not active, but reblogs here and there.

@/ghibligif: a new blog, but decently active. will reblog post from their tracked tag within a day. lots of original content.

main point: there are many studio ghibli blogs (wayyyy more than i’ve listed here), but only around 3-4 active ones. choose your tags with what you think will give you the best exposure bc if you have too much, tumblr will go “fuck you” and not show your post at all :)

random anime fandoms:

i’ll really only be including ones i’m in, or know a bit about.

haikyuu, bnha, kny, yoi: healthy and very active. content for these fandoms do well even if they’re not in season. has multiple active fan blogs (except for yoi tho - they’re all inactive for the most part).

noragami, ohshc, ons, snk, tg, swnku: active fandoms. edits will do moderately well bc most people have seen these.

popular sports anime (knb, free, dna, tsurune? idk i don’t watch much sports anime): they do okay. i rarely see any new sports anime edits beside haikyuu, but people do love their sports anime. has active sports fan blogs.

pokemon & sailor moon: old but gold. lots of people love these anime bc it’s part of their childhood. still very popular amongst tumblr users.

violet evergarden: does moderately well. @/fyeahvioletevergarden will reblog your stuff if you choose to tag them (big boost)! with the new movie coming up soon, there may be a resurgence in activity, but the most recent movie did not have much content made for it, so that hope may be crushed.

tpn: not very active, but with the new season coming up soon, there will be a resurgence in activity.

ditf: kind of dead, but lots of people love zero two. edits do moderately well.

sao: dead. absolutely dead. i thought there would be some activity bc it’s in season right now, but no, it’s a dead fandom. low key sao sucks tho. idek where the plot is going; i’m just hoping for an end.

hxh, one piece, fma, code geass: i’m not in it, but i think they do okay bc they have a large following, just not as well as haikyuu or bnha (but they’re still very popular). it depends on your blog demographic tho.

mp100, opm, bsd, given: kind of medium-tier fandoms. not as prevalent as haikyuu or bnha, but there are still edits being made for these anime. they don’t really have any active fan blogs (besides given i think) bc none of them are airing rn.

makoto shinkai & studio ghibli films: they do great! everybody loves good scenery, and the films are very well known and loved by all!

some seasonal anime (spring/summer 2020)

fruits basket: well this reboot blew up and overshadowed everything in it’s path. tbh only edits posted on the first day of the new episode do well. it’s a very competitive fandom for creators.

kaguya sama love is war: first season was good, edits did well. second season drifted off into the shadow of fruits basket. relatively obscure fandom for how popular it is amongst people (non-creators).

tower of god: popular with creators. now that it’s not airing, no one gifs it. respective fan blog is doing its best with content from the manhwa.

fugou keiji balance unlimited: people were simping even before the first ep came out, and then the anime went on hiatus for a few months. now that it’s started to air again, everyone acts like it never existed in the first place... was a good fandom up until the hiatus and now it will probably take a while to recover.

god of high school: nonexistent even tho it’s a popular pick this season (summer 2020). in the shadow of fruits basket.

deca-dence, bna, great pretender, kakushigoto, the misfit at demon king academy, rent-a-girlfriend: *sigh* didn’t see much of it on my dash. lesser-watched seasonal anime in comparison to fruits basket and tower of god (all relative to tumblr). there are gifs being made, but you have to follow the right blogs.

main point: if there’s any seasonal anime paired up against fruits basket at the same time, fruits basket will win and the former will be left in the dust.

#i've been itching to write this for a while #just my thoughts as a #content creator who uses tags #feel free to correct me on anything #or give me a new perspective #text #mine #mytext

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes (very generic OC — no detail used aside from the pronouns she/her) rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, non-con/dub-con elements breeding, somnophilia, drugging, kidnapping, yandere style prompts: “See? It’s not as uncomfortable as it could be, right?” || “Look, this is for the best. You don’t understand now, but you will.” || “This’ll make us closer, I promise. Just hold still.”

prompts requested by the lovely @o-luthien!! i hope its not too rough! i’m still happy to take prompts rn if anyone’s interested!

She'd laughed it off at first, when Steve mentioned having children. They'd been dating for just over a month-- the sporadic, Are You Busy Right This Moment sort of dating that came with being a superhero. Her job was flexible, she made her own hours most of the time anyway, so she was able to say yes about 90% of the time. He always made it worth it too, the dates somehow spontaneous and yet still well thought out with her interests in mind. They'd been to museums and aquariums, a Broadway show, and the botanical gardens when he'd brought it up at dinner one evening. It was a late night, post movie dinner at a sushi place in Manhattan. The atmosphere was lovely even in the late hour and she'd had a couple of drinks with their meal. She'd been lucky to still have her wits about her when he dropped the "we'll have beautiful kids" bomb. A quick laugh and a joke about how he shouldn't be worrying about kids in his advanced age had been enough to side step the awkward conversation.

Steve had been born a century ago, when young adults their age where usually already married with a gaggle of kids. It wasn't his fault that social ettique had changed or that it was considered extremely outlandish to mention children so early in a relationship. He probably had no idea it was so weird, after all he'd mentioned he hadn't seriously dated anyone since waking up. She'd successfully passed it off, anyway, so there was no point in dwelling on it. It didn't come up again until about 6 months later, when Steve found Bucky.

He'd admitted that his best friend had also been his lover in the past, that the tragedy of losing Bucky had literally been too much to take and had driven him into the arctic. She was okay with it, understood the taboo of their time and the secrecy they'd had to operate under. It had been, well, painful when Steve pulled back of course, but she understood why. That was his Bucky. It was something precious and worth salvaging, rebound relationship be damned.

So when Steve had shown up on her doorstep, Bucky in tow, at 4 PM on a Wednesday and asked to talk, she was anticipating a break up speech. She’d invited them in and made them coffee, trying to ignore the way Bucky looked at her. There was no deciphering the expression on his face; she couldn’t tell if he hated her for dating (and sleeping with) his boyfriend, if he felt guilty that he was stealing her chance with Steve, or if he even felt anything at all. The brunet was a closed box, spoke very few words, and watched her like a hawk the entire time.

She’d nearly dropped her coffee right into her lap when Steve had asked if she’d be okay with him dating both of them, because he loved Bucky and he was coming to love her and he just couldn’t choose. It had been easy to say yes, to tell him she didn’t mind. Steve’s happiness meant something to her, it had become important to her over the half a year they’d been dating. The three way dates had been weird at first, she hadn’t anticipated that Steve and Bucky would want her to join on their dates, but after a month or two she got used to it. She and Bucky had a lot in common, they fell into an easy and affectionate friendship while both getting banged 9 ways to Sunday by Steve. The first date she’d gone on with just Bucky had been strange but lovely and if they all ended up dating each other, what was the harm?

But then the children thing came up again. ‘The first one should be Bucky’s, he’s always wanted babies, you know?’ ‘I hope one of them is blond like Stevie, with those pretty eyes of yours.’ She continued to pass it off the best that she could, ducking and squirming out of conversations about babies. It was about the one year mark with Steve, the 6 month-ish mark with Bucky that she realized she had to reevaluate their relationship. Obviously, they wanted something different out of life than she did. They wanted a white picket fence and a whole herd of children, and that hadn’t even made it onto her list of ‘not ideal but liveable life scenarios’.

The night she planned to break up with them came upon her so much faster than she’d anticipated. It was going to hurt, on multiple levels. She really and truly loved them, but there was no way that she could continue dating them when their life goals were so incompatible. It felt like leading them on and that was cruel. So, she slipped into a casual pair of jeans and a tank top with a cardigan over top and headed to the cafe they generally spent time in if they didn’t want to truly do something for a date. Her winter gear kept her pleasantly warm even when the sun had gone down, but there was a frigid trickle down her back.

The walk wasn’t far, but the goosebumps rising over her skin gave her pause as she walked. Her hand immediately dove into her pocket, gloves slipping around her phone for a second before she managed to pull it out and unlock it. In general, she wasn’t the type to be jumpy or nervous when walking alone in the evenings, but she was the kind of girl who trusted her instincts. And her instincts told her something was wrong.

Bucky’s number was the first on the ‘most recent' screen for her contacts list and she hit dial without hesitation. When it rang out without an answer, she tried Steve’s only to receive the same results. They were most likely already at the cafe, phones on silent because their traditional ideals told them that being on their phones during a date was rude. Usually she found that cute and endearing, but tonight it meant they didn’t realize she really needed their attention.

Of course, she wasn’t in any danger. Well, in the minds of the soldiers she wasn’t in any danger. They’d never let anything happen to her. Watching from the shadows as she redialed Steve’s number, the pair smiled. She knew that they were who she needed to call in an emergency, she knew they would take care of her. When she started running down the block, Bucky stayed carefully behind her while Steve went on ahead to the cafe; there needed to be someone there to greet her when she arrived, but they also needed to make sure she arrived safely.

She had to stop herself outside of the cafe and take a deep breath, to try and calm herself before she went inside. Obviously, she’d worked herself up for no reason and the panic was sitting just underneath her rib cage, pounding along with her heart. Seeing Steve through the window was what allowed her breathing to calm; she was safe as long as Steve was just a few steps away. He stood up as soon as he saw her walk through the door, a brilliant smile on his face as always. It was difficult to force herself not to run over and throw her arms around him, to explain how frightened she’d been on the walk to the cafe. She reminded herself that she was there to break up with them.

Oh, fuck, she was there to break up with them. In the cafe they all loved so much. Was she a monster? Was wanting to break up over not wanting children stupid? Wasn’t the point of dating people to find someone (or someone’s, in her case) that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? Because she’d like to spend the rest of her life with them. But, children. They were cute from afar, babies were precious and they had that lovely smell but she didn’t want any.

“Hey beautiful,” the blond greeted when she arrived at his side, sweeping her into a gentle hug, “you look out of breath.”

“Oh, I was just walking a bit fast I guess,” she waved off the concern and glanced towards the counter with a furrowed brow, “I thought Bucky would be here already?”

“He’s in the restroom,” Steve gestured towards the hallway before helping her out of her coat, “I already got you a tea. Did you want something to eat?”

“No, no, I’m not really hungry.” In fact, her stomach felt like lead and she wanted to throw up.

Steve ushered her into the booth before sitting beside her, unintentionally trapping her in which was going to make the following conversation very uncomfortable, “are you sure baby? Did you already eat dinner? You don’t need to be skipping meals, if you lose any weight you’ll disappear on me.”

A small smile cracked her lips and she shook her head, eyes carefully scanning over Steve’s face. He was so handsome, he would make incredibly beautiful babies with whoever he chose. It just couldn’t be her, and that hurt. She was shaken out of her small daydream by Bucky sliding into the booth across from her, leaning up and over the table as he did so that the brunet could press a quick kiss to her lips.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted with a smile, nose brushing hers.

The warmth that filled her chest was tinged with grief as she sat back, “hey Buck.”

“What did you need to talk about baby?” Steve questioned once they were settled, his arm coming to rest over her shoulders.

Her lead stomach somehow grew heavier and she took a sip of her tea. Steve always knew exactly how to fix it up for her but it tasted like ash in her mouth, sticking to her tongue and coating her throat like cement. The anxiety was crushing and she hated that it would ruin the last cup of tea Steve ever made her.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” The blond pressed, a frown coming over his face as he shifted closer.

“I… I’ve been thinking, uhm, a lot recently,” she murmured, eyes focused on the cup in her hands.

“Okay…” Bucky prompted gently when she didn’t continue and she found herself taking a giant sip of tea to put off having to answer for just a moment— it was going to hurt.

“You guys… you guys deserve everything you’ve ever wanted, you know? You’ve gone through so much and you do so much for other people…” she took another sip of tea, finger nails clicking against the ceramic, “I know that you want kids. You’ll make amazing fathers, you know? And you’ve earned the right to happiness in this life, I think, so you should be able to have all the babies you want. But I… I don’t want kids. I’ve never wanted kids, even when I was little. The idea of being pregnant makes me want to throw up and raising children sounds like a nightmare.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Wait, Bucky, please,” she pleaded quietly, “let me finish? I don’t want kids and you guys do, so badly and I can’t get in the way of your future. I think… I think we need to stop seeing each other.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit rash, baby?” Steve asked, eyebrows of disappoint in full effect, “we haven’t even discussed children.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want kids, Steve? That you’d be perfectly fine with never having any children? Because I know that’s a lie,” another small sip of tea was meant to steady her but just left her feeling overheated and heavy, “it’s not fair for me to keep you both wrapped up when I have no intention of having children.”

Steve opened his mouth but shut it again without saying anything, picking up the coffee he’d been drinking and taking a gulp. Across the table Bucky was doing the same with his tea and she sighed heavily before finishing off her cup.

“Can you let me out, Steve? I think I’m gonna head home,” she requested quietly, settling her cup back on the saucer.

“No baby, you stay there,” the blond answered with a sigh, carding his hand through her hair while holding her against his side, “the drugs we put in your tea will finish working in just a minute or two.”

Her head snapped towards him, hair flying around her face in a flurry, “what?! Steve what the fuck?!”

She attempted to press away from him, but her arms were starting to take on the same heavy feeling as her stomach. Her head was too, actually, now that she thought about it. The tea had tasted off but she’d been sure it was just her anxiety, that the lethargy sitting in her bones was just a result of the overwhelming sadness of having to break things off with the men she loved. She hadn’t considered that the heat boiling beneath her skin was anything but panic.

“Look, this is for the best. You don’t understand now, but you will.”

“Oh my God,” she muttered, her mouth beginning to feel cotton-y, “wha...what..”

“I’ve had your apartment bugged since we started dating, baby,” Steve stated casually, “you talk to yourself a lot. We’ve known you were thinking about breaking it off for a couple of months now.”

“We’ve thought a lot about it and we just can’t let you, sweetheart. You’re too important to us,” Bucky added, the image of him swimming as her eyes started to blur, “you’ll get used to the idea of babies once you start having them, I promise.”

“S-Someone, help…” the words were barely a hoarse whisper, heat climbing through her body like a fire, “help me..”

“Shh, we’re going to help you baby,” Steve cooed in her ear, lips grazing her skin, “just go to sleep now.”

She woke up to moaning and pleasure, an orgasm rocketing through her with incredible intensity. Above her, Steve was still going strong. His massive form looked just as beautiful above her as it always did. There was something incredibly erotic about them fucking her while she slept, about being dragged out of her dreams by an orgasm rocking her out of control. Her arms were bound to the headboard, a usual occurrence, and Bucky was sitting to her left, cock in hand.

“Morning sweetheart, how’re you feelin’?” The brunet purred, reaching his unused hand out to stroke through her hair.

“Ohhh,” she moaned as Steve hiked her legs farther up over his hips, pelvis grinding into her clit with each thrust, “ohhh fuuuuck…”

“Yeah? Is Stevie making you feel good?” Bucky smirked, his hand traveling down to her tits, “look how big they’ve gotten Steve.”

“Gonna be nice and full for our babies,” he responded with a grunt, fingers digging into her hips.

Babies. Her memory returned with a vengeance; the cafe, the break up speech, being drugged. She screeched, yanking on the handcuffs locking her to the headboard. Her legs kicked out futilely, Steve’s grasp on her waist keeping her soundly in place. His cock was massive and he was pounding her like he was on a mission.

“Did you notice the changes over the last few months?” Bucky asked calmly, still touching her face even as she tried to move away, “we had to give you enough drugs to counteract the effects of the birth control shot you got earlier in the year. The fertility stuff has all the upsides, you know? Watching your tits grow was my favourite part, but Stevie liked how it filled you out. This is a perfect weight for you, sweetheart, especially while you’re having babies.”

“Oh my God, get off of me!” Her voice came out as a screech, still yanking against the bonds around her wrists, “get off!”

“Based on the timeline we’ve been going off of and the stuff we gave you last night, you should be ovulating for the next couple of days,” Bucky came to kneel next to her head, grabbing both of her hands to keep her from bruising herself on the restraints, “calm down, sweetheart, let Steve finish and then it's my turn again.”

“Love watching you fuck her,” Steve muttered to his boyfriend, continuing to pound her cunt while leaning over to kiss him, “I swear I can feel your cum in her pussy.”

“Nah, that monster cock pushed all of mine out,” Buck reached down, swiping his hand over where they were connected and bringing it back up covered in cum, “fill her back up Stevie. Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

She tried to refuse but he tutted at her, using his clean hand to plug her nose. He smiled when she ran out of breath, mouth opening in a gasp and he pressed his cum coated fingers between her lips, stroking her tongue.

Steve groaned at the sight, “Buck, move for a sec, would’ya?”

The brunet shifted and Steve pulled back, cock slipping out of her with a short whine. He’d always been vocal while they fucked, not so much in words but in noises. He grunted and groaned and moaned and she used to relish the sounds, the idea that she could make Captain America make noises like that. But now, as he grabbed her hips and turned her onto her stomach, making her wrists cross in her bonds, she hated the noises. It was disgusting how much he was enjoying himself.

“Here we go baby,” he murmured, carefully manipulating her onto her knees while her torso remained stretched out over the head of the bed, Bucky simultaneously turning her head so her cheek rested on a pillow, gently moving her hair out of her face, “gotta get my cum nice and deep in there.”

“Please stop,” she whimpered, tears pressing at the backs of her eyes, “Steve, please—”

“Shhh, you’re alright baby, you’re okay,” one hand rubbed circles into the small of her back, the other guiding his cock back to her weeping cunt, “almost done and then you can rest for a minute. We might’a put your little pussy through the wringer while you were asleep.”

There was no telling how many times they’d cum in her while she’d been drugged. She had no idea how long she’d been out, the black out curtains were pulled over the windows and she couldn’t see a clock from her position. It might not even have been the same evening, the same day. Bucky’s hand came to rest on her ass, a gentle caress making goosebumps rise on her skin.

“I’m gonna miss fucking your pretty ass sweetheart,” the brunet stated with a regretful look, “but we can’t waste anything in your asshole until you’re pregnant.”

“Won’t be long,” Steve grunted, tucking his hand under her waist and rubbing his fingers over her clit, “we’ll just need a bit more lube than usual.”

“Don’t, Steve,” she sobbed, “Don’t do this to me—”

“This’ll make us closer, I promise. Just hold still,” the blond gave a low hum under his break, movements become sharper and thrusts more brutal, “here we go, baby, here we go.”

“No! Don’t—”

Her shout was disrupted by him moaning her name, burying himself deep one more time before releasing his load. Her skin pressed nearly seamlessly to his pelvis, only shifting as he gave several small, abrupt thrusts. The rough movements pounded her clit and she came a few seconds after him. She’d known in the back of her head, that the serum had done something to their physiology. Their refractory periods were insane, the sheer volume of cum they made didn’t seem possible. Now, she wondered how strong their swimmers were and how effective the drugs they gave her would be.

“That’s so good baby,” Steve moaned quietly, laying his back over hers and gently stroking the hand not holding up his weight over her stomach gently, “so good for me.”

“Come on, Stevie, on her back,” Bucky’s tone was just as soft, his hands brushing over both of his lovers gently as he watched the blond pull his softening cock from her pussy and helped him turn her onto her back, “let me grab some pillows.”

The blond carefully lifted her legs, tucking her knees up close to her chest and tilting her pelvis back. Bucky tucked the pillows under her waist to keep her hips canted up, to support her back more than to hold her in position.

“Now, you gotta stay like this for the next fifteen or so minutes, baby,” Steve instructed as he climbed off the bed, Bucky taking hold of her legs, and grabbing a damp towel from the end table to wipe himself clean, “you’ve gotta give our babies the best chance.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” she hissed after a moment, forcing herself not to make any noises that might sound like crying, “both of you. I’m going to get an abortion the sec—”

“The second you can, we figured you’d say that,” Bucky laughed, thumbing brushing over her skin absently, “that’s why we’re not gonna give you the opportunity, sweetheart. We figure doctors still make house calls, we’ll have all of your prenatal care done here and you’ll have the baby here too. Maybe once you’ve had a couple of kids you can start going out by yourself again.”

“Let go!” The words weren’t as much of a shout as she’d been hoping for, “please, please let go.”

“Hush baby,” Steve climbed back into bed on her other side and took hold of her legs once again, readjusting her position slightly, “see, it’s not as uncomfortable as it could be, right? You just lay there and let me hold you, okay? Try to relax.”

“Here, now that you’re awake,” Bucky reached over to the side table and grabbed the remote, turning the TV mounted on the wall across from the bed on, “we can watch a movie while we wait.”

A fucking movie. They could watch a movie while they waited. One of their hands ran up over the curve of her ass, fingers delving into the slick mess of her pussy. She could tell they were pressing cum back into her, trying to keep as much in at once as possible.

“We’ll keep your pussy nice and full of cum,” the brunet’s voice was so low it was basically a rumble, “and your belly full of babies. Just wait, you’re going to have a wonderful life here with us, sweetheart. You’ll grow to love it, I promise.”

#steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!mcu #yandere prompts

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radbutsafe · 3 years

Note

ALL FUCKIN 35 OF THEM SKLNWESDJFPXO

I SHOULDVE EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

A three! I think I’m mid range cause I ain’t terrible but there is still shit I gotta improve and grow in my writing

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

to manifest what canon won’t give me and to write more! (though yes it is mainly about the smooching and the— I’ll stop there LOL)

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

Hm! My weird research details? I’m that “fun fact, did you know...” in my fics sometimes LOL! I plan on giving a penthouse for erina in a fic and I went through penthouse listings in Japan for floor layouts and locations💀 my research gives me inspo and depth to stuff I think I lack in comparison to others sometimes.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

In terms of fellow fic writers, one of them I can’t name here but she’s an inspiration with her exceptional gift for prose period and her lovely skill at comedy! I want to be as funny as her when I write, I love her ironic situational humor. Other fic writers are @takoyakitenchou, @royaldragonsevgisi15 who I always love sharing ideas with and motivate me to create more! For non-fic writers it would be V.E. Schwab, Leigh Bardugo, Oda, and Horikoshi! The last two may be mangaka, however they are writers as well to create their stories! The depth these creators have given their worlds and interesting characters theyve given life to are all what I aspire to be like!

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

so far uh?? hm everything I’m currently writing are wips lol!! im proud of my wip that has been nicknamed ‘soma panics’ that is a multi-chapter fic that spans like probs 20 plus chapters maybe

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

dialogue! it’s so much fun! and character thoughts. I’ve said to people I may be better suited for script writing

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I think it’s description, of like setting and showing action. also an expansion of my vocabulary LOL

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

erina! I think it’s because canon has shown us many of her different faces and range of emotion.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

SOMA!! chill ass mofo whos more carefree compared to the common shonen protagonist! for other shokugeki characters I’m not sure just yet because I haven’t flexed my fingers enough for the rest of them.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for?

I guess I should say romance cause that’s what I mostly write LOL!

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

sorina and I try to get them to smooch eventually KEK and yeah it’s..usually romantic fluff lmao

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

HONESTLY ALL OF THEM but “soma panics” is my brain child

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

pretty sure it’s digimon....

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

currently shokugeki no soma!!!!

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

uhhhh I guess SNS? LMAO fandoms...all have their quirks to them.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

characters cuddling!!!! or getting the urge to smooch!!!!

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

unrequited love GOOD FUCKIN BYEEEEEE

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

I have plot ideas thst can be wild potentially but so far nothing fits this criteria so far that I actually have written.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between?

depends on the fandom, but if written well, all of it!

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff?

shippy 100% like I said I like smoochin

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

romantic is...*drumroll* SORINA! platonic, soutaku and erina and alice!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Sometimes! There are times songs will be on loop and times I just shuffle a playlist. and if I’m writing in random bursts it’ll be with no music but it really does depend lmao I think music is when I’m forcing myself to write?

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

completely independent ideas, I’ve realized in the past prompts shoot me in the foot often unless I luckily figure something out. but I’m often driven by my own sporadic self interest with shitty ping ponging attention

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

multi-chap I guess cause I can post without being finished LOLLL but tbh can I really answer? I haven’t finished anything.....

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

I can’t answer this question imo because I haven’t finished a fic yet so technically stuff could all fit in the one fic?

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

MYSTERY AND CRIME! I love the genre and I have plot ideas once a blue moon but I can’t dive in because I want to make details that work and reduce plot holes where suspension of disbelief isn’t as needed. I need to study it more (I need to study all the details for any of my fics imo to be confident sometimes LOL)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I don’t think I can say one comment was the nicest because I’ve gotten comments that have given me quite the smiles to my face many times! I know this is a cop out but it’s true!

IS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY UNTIL REINA SENT ME THE FOLLOWING ON DISCORD LIKE TWENTY MINS AGO:

and also rad. i am never this vocal about my emotions like EVER but this needs to be said your fics are obviously far from perfect, as are mine and everyone else's. but the thing about your works is that they're so well-sanded that it's impossible to find any rough edges or faults in them in terms of cohesion to a plot. your cast is never OOC and the amount of effort you devote to developing your takes on the characters as accurately as possible is unimaginably awe-inspiring.

BITCH I WANNA CRY 😭

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing?

I’d like to believe I take it often well to try and improve because that’s always my goal. if someone is rude lol that’s not constructive snd is unhelpful. If I disagree with criticism I’ll explain why !

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Not yet, but I have some plot ideas I think will let me test this.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

F L U F F.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

elliott fuji, a japanese-american award winning photographer who is erina’s boyfriend in ‘soma panics’ which..causes soma’s panic LOL he’s 30 with slightly wavy black hair. I still haven’t pinpointed his personality just yet...he kind of humble brags for sure an artsy fucker and flirts maybe I’ll make him a lil shy though. he teaches sometimes, and becomes an adjunct photography professor in Tokyo so he can be with erina.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

a cook is unfashionably late in realizing his feelings.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I am a slow. so slow. motivation who is she? I also write out of order, unfortunately a bit too often.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

this should be for the fic ‘soma panics’ it’s either megumi or satoshi talkin to him rn, I’m leaning towards satoshi

“You thought she would always wait for you, didn’t you Soma-kun? To always welcome you home.”

Soma drags his palms down his face and groans. He doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t shy from confrontation but this is a whole different ballgame. Soma doesn’t play any ball.

“I guess..?” Is his reply, because he thinks he isn’t sure how to answer that.

“You guess?”

Just being questioned again is enough to crack Soma’s pathetic facade as if it was dropped chinaware and he lets out the longest sigh.

“No.”

Coming home means coming home to Nakiri Erina too.

Nakiri Erina is his forever.

this is @takoyakitenchou’s excerpt she’s most proud of that I’ve written, which is also from you guessed it, the long fic soma panics

SOMA: I am, I mean I will be, I swear I will always come home to you, not spend as much time abroad, once I’m done with work I’ll come right back. I’ll make sure to message you. Nakiri, I’m in love you with you. Maybe for a really long time. You know how I say I dedicate my food to you? My dad—my dad said that the key to become a good chef is to find someone to dedicate your cooking to. A special someone. For my dad it was my mom, you know? For me it’s...

(this is a good piece of dialogue tbh so I am also proud of this)

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I’ve mentioned it throughout this but the WIP I’ve nicknamed ‘soma panics’ is something I’m super excited to write, but it’s going on slowly...and almost completely out of order. out of all of my writing it showed off that particular habit of mine, along with “what is this, a shoujo manga?!” though the latter is currently being written chronologically now that I’ve posted chapter one and is pretty solid in direction. it was originally supposed to be a one shot but I got impatient and wanted to post at least something for the sorina / soueri fandom.

however, because ‘soma panics’ (I won’t call it that LOL) is my baby I want to keep true to my rule of refusing to post it until I have a draft of the entire fic finished and I’m satisfied with the main points pretty much. due to my writing out of order, I’m worried I’ll change my mind about scenes or want to reflect things in earlier chapters for later ones etc etc

I joined the SnS fandom extremely late, as season five was airing. I was a fan of the manga five years ago and dropped it because I forgot to check for updates when I caught up 😔 I really want to bang out the different fics and aus for sorina that I have before the fandom fizzles out entirely but tbh I’m writing for myself, I’m manifesting what I want to see and I’ll just share it with all my friends to read if no one else will. cause I’m slow broski I dunno what writing fast even is like LMAO I do really want to write faster though, so I can contribute more and let the words free from the discord dms....

#ask meme #ask rad shit #writing #writing by rad #fanfic #reina girl u put me thru it I swear lol #thank u for sending!!#ur amazing!!!!

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imbellarosa · 4 years

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I'm likely the most anxious person alive. My anxiety is just terrible. I'm never not worrying and panicking and feeling so paranoid about things in my life. Except now it's reached a whole new level where I'm constantly plagued with anxious thoughts in this fandom. It's kind of fully taken over my life where my first thought when I wake up is about them, to the hours I'm lying awake (oh it's fun being an insomniac) waiting for sleep to finally grant me some serenity. It doesn't matter how many

, Atimes I tell myself I have no control over anything and I'm only ever seeing a tiny bit of the whole story so it's pointless. I try so hard to choose to not worry and not go insane thinking about everything but alas, anxiety is not a choice. This has manifested itself in a multitude of ways. Lyric analysis used to be something I savoured doing bc I have always connected so deeply with words and literature and I'm always someone who wants to dig deep beneath the surface, to see the parts of ppl

& lyrics that others gloss over, just delving into the core of things, seeing ppl for who they truly are. But now, I feel like I am losing it, that it's all become like this weird obsession. We all know BNFs are like DO NOT CHERRY PICK LYRICS and basically IGNORE THAT WEIRD GUT FEELING ABOUT ANY LYRICS THAT MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE SOMETHING'S NQR and they can sue me but I don't work like that. I've been obsessing over certain lyrics that I can't decipher or find an alternate meaning to the literal

one & obviously if it were to be taken literally it would be bad. And I just get so mad at myself for not understanding when words have always been my thing right? Like it was always where I excelled with flying colours and it came so naturally to me and then I get so exasperated with them (okay mainly H for his unfathomable lyrics) bc I want to understand more than anything (& I think deep down he craves being understood too) but he makes it so hard. But that's not the extent of it, I just

worry incessantly about everything. I just can't turn off my mind and it feels like it's on the verge of exploding. I wish I knew how to just take everything lightly & just revel in this fandom & have fun but instead I feel jaded and vexed all the time. And sometimes that infuriation is directed towards them & I feel guilty as I know that's unfair but I can't help it but it just gets on my nerves bc of the things they do & say (or rather don't do/say) haha so fun!! Apologies for this whole spiel

Hey anon <3! First of all, my inbox is always open, so jot that one right down. Second of all, I’m gonna say something that might sound out of line, but I think I have to say it: this sounds like your mental health might not be in a great place right now. And I don’t mean your “in fandom mental health”, I mean it sounds like your anxiety is giving you a really hard time overall, which, believe me, I know how much that sucks. Life is a lot right now. But what I am hearing you say is that this fandom has become a really tangible manifestation of those anxieties. Let me know if I’m way off base here, okay? But I’m going to ask some questions (that you totally don’t have to reply to me - you can absolutely just take inventory on your own if that’s how you feel most comfortable.

Are you safe? If you’re not safe, is there someone you can call? If not, here is the International Association for Suicide Prevention so that you can find resources in your area. If you are at all contemplating this, please stop reading right here and give them a call.

If you are safe, do you have someone you can talk to about how you feel? This can be someone that knows who you are in the fandom and can talk to you with immediate replies, or someone outside of fandom, like an irl friend or family member.

This question is primarily to do with a non-professional support system: do you have one you feel you can trust? If not, what are the things you could do to work towards that?

This question is about professional support: it sounds to me like you’re saying that your anxiety is really impairing your day to day functions. If this is the case, do you have a professional you can talk with about potential coping skills? It sounds like fandom used to be one, but as the environment here changed, so did your relationship with it, and so maybe reaching out to someone that can point you in other directions for coping skills is a good thing. Because I don't know where you live, my best advice would be to call your physician and explain the symptoms you’ve been having and ask if they have a list of therapists that you could see for little to no charge. If you don’t have a physician (and I often don’t) then google is your best friend here. There are some resources available, but none of them take the place of seeing a doctor. In the US, if you don’t have insurance, you can go to a local community clinic and ask to be put on a waiting list for a therapist, if you’d like.

I know that you’re saying that your anxiety is making it really difficult to disengage with BNFs and the discourse and all, but do you think that we could take it one step at a time? Like, for example, the lyric thing seems to really trigger your anxiety, so could you unfollow one blog (just one!) that makes you feel like that, and then see if you like your dash a bit better? It is TOTALLY okay to unfollow someone for your own mental health, and it isn’t a negative reflection on either of you!

Do you think that engaging with other media would help at all? For example, Supernatural has 15 whole seasons of absolute campy goodness which I really, really unironically adore. When this fandom gets too much, I turn on an episode and get lost in it for a hot second. Another thing I really enjoy is Good Omens! The book is AMAZING, and the TV show is HILARIOUS! And while we’re on recs, I SUPER SUPER recommend anything by Neil Gaiman, but “Stardust” in particular is a great, soothing read for me, and I LOVE the audiobook! Ah! Hot Tip! I pay for audible, and it is one of the BEST things for my anxiety, especially when I pick the right books. The voices are soothing, the stories are great, and I can just...tune everything else out.

If other media doesn’t help, would other hobbies? Would you be willing to go on a walk once a day to look for pretty stones or to ride your bike out with a book and stay for a minute or to start drawing at home or to write? Is there a way that you think you could healthily express these emotions which are a really normal response to an abnormal situation (the world is kinda a mess rn)

It sounds like you are feeling really badly that you don’t think you can get a grasp on the songs. Is there something you can do to rebuild your confidence here? Can you talk about it with a fandom friend, or write down all your theories and see which one sticks or start a brand new analysis with something that has nothing to do w H or L and then come back to the drawing board?

These are just questions that I would ask a friend that came to me with these issues, but honestly, I cannot stress #4 enough - if your anxiety is overwhelming (and it sounds like it is) then speaking to a professional is *so so so* important. I think it’s time to go take care of yourself, anon, and the boys will be here when you’re ready to interact with their content again. They’ll wait, you know? And I’ll be here the whole time if you want to do check-ins with me. I want to know that you’re okay, friend <3

#anon asks #i answer #i think that maybe some lyrics are literal and some are not #and that sometimes you get a mix in a song #i think often it's harry that has less literal lyrics #you're right #and i think that he often distances himself from the story #which he is very much a part of #but anyways #take care of yourself my friend and come back soon #long post for ts #tw suicide #tw anxiety #Anonymous

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Janis & Jude

Janis: How did it go?

Jude: how you said it was gonna

Janis: Do you want one of us to come home or would you rather be alone?

Janis: At least you were prepared

Jude: I’ve put you out enough, have already done & am gonna do for the foreseeable, I’m good

Janis: That doesn’t mean you should go without now

Janis: If it’s what you need, just say so

Janis: What did they say?

Jude: they’ll both be up for taking an arm if you & dad wanna grab a leg & drag me down the clinic

Janis: no one’s gonna force you to do anything

Janis: you can’t have expected any other reaction?

Jude: I’m not as thick as this makes me look or feel

Janis: I know you aren’t

Janis: I guess it feels weird that no one’s celebrating with you, on some deep-down uncontrollable level

Janis: You tell me, that’s how it seemed to me when Grace thought she was pregnant when we were teens

Jude: I just thought everyone cared about me more than this, me, not the mistake I made & how it’s gonna fuck everything up & how fast it can be sorted so it can be like it didn’t happen

Jude: Jess is only bothered it might make headlines & Jac doesn’t even see me in this, just that she did the right thing & so should I, as if there’s 0 difference between me & her

Janis: They do care about you

Janis: That just doesn’t look the way you would like, or expected it to

Janis: They’re just terrified for you, we all are

Jude: they’re not coming back for summer & it’s not just Jess’ birthday, she don’t wanna come back ever

Jude: if Jac’s so worried why am I dead to her?

Janis: You aren’t even off ‘til the end of July, there’s time

Janis: That’s why it made sense to do this now, you have to give that time and space

Janis: They’re giving you it too, but for the opposite reason

Janis: I would have done the exact same thing, she’s showing she’s serious, that this is

Janis: Arguing if it’s right or not is irrelevant, the more she punishes you, the more she’s hoping you’ll change your mind on this

Jude: You didn’t hear her

Jude: it’s gonna be worse than it was before, if I don’t change my mind I don’t have a sister anymore & if I do I don’t have a baby anymore

Janis: I know your sister, I know you all

Janis: Just because she made it sound that way, or outright said it, doesn’t mean it’s true

Janis: not that pointing that out would do you any favours

Janis: I’ve been there, even as much as I thought I hated Rio at times, or as much as I really might’ve

Janis: you can’t just erase people from your life, especially not family, not easily

Janis: Look how long dad’s dad lingered around, and that was a more mutual decision

Jude: but she literally did erase me for 2 years & even though she’s been gone, this is the closest we’ve been

Jude: I just got her back

Janis: Erasing yourself is different to erasing other people, even if it feels the same being one of those people

Janis: you have to remember that was about her and how she felt

Janis: It is hurtful, but it wasn’t because you did anything wrong

Jude: now I have though

Janis: In her eyes or yours or both?

Jude: in everyone’s

Jude: dad can’t even look at me rn

Janis: It’ll change

Janis: I’m not going to say get easier, it’ll be different kinds of hard

Jude: You’re all acting like I’m going about celebrating, I didn’t want this to happen either, not like this & not now

Janis: It’s difficult to get it out of your head that there aren’t other options for you, when there technically are, that’s all

Janis: None of us wants to think of you doing something you don’t want to do

Janis: It would be as uncomfortable if you did have a termination, this isn’t a nice thing that has happened

Jude: None of you think I can or should raise a kid

Jude: maybe you’re all right & I shouldn’t bother trying

Janis: It’s your decision, I’m not going to tell you what to do either way

Janis: you’ll do what you need to do

Jude: it’s not a decision I can make with the whole family against me, Toby couldn’t bail fast enough

Janis: We aren’t against you

Janis: But you have to be the one to make the final call

Janis: we’re all just waiting for that

Janis: we can’t really support you more than that

Jude: Yeah you are, it’s obvious what you & dad want

Jude: it was different with Bobby, Cammie’s mum decided & he didn’t get a proper say, not unless he was gonna bail too

Jude: my decision is MY decision & when you all reckon I’ve made the wrong call it’ll be held over my head forever

Janis: It won’t, Jude

Janis: We’re just not happy about this, but neither are you, so can you blame us?

Jude: I don’t but I don’t wanna be the fuckup of this family either

Janis: This family has an abundance, but we all survive and make it work

Janis: most do, they’re just less outward with it

Janis: Your life will be harder, but as long as you end up happy, that’s the whole point, only you can say what will get you there

Jude: not our little bit of it, everything was going 🏆🥇 before this

Janis: What about the last two years with Jac?

Jude: that wasn’t her fault

Janis: Some of it was

Janis: it doesn’t make either of you awful people though

Jude: if you wanna take to the streets 📢 go ahead but I don’t think it’ll shut anyone up

Janis: Other people are going to say shit, that’s not going to stop

Jude: yeah, I know, I’m not looking forward to even more of it is all I’m saying

Janis: Then you do need to keep thinking

Janis: if you can’t handle that

Janis: no one will know if you do go for the termination route

Jude: I never said I can’t handle it

Janis: Okay

Jude: I know I don’t handle stuff like Jac & Jess do but I won’t fuck things up more than they are cos of what people 🗨️

Jude: I get that I need to be in school til I’ve done exams & I’m not trying to give them another reason to wanna chuck me out

Janis: The options are beyond limited if you don’t finish, you do need to

Janis: it’s alright if you care what people think

Jude: I care it’s bollocks

Jude: if I knew all the shit they’re 🗨️ about & reckon they’ve always known I wouldn’t have just gone along with it then never mind having to deal with it now on top of this

Janis: People will always be ready to think the worst about you

Janis: you know it’s not true, real friends will too, that will have to do

Jude: such a mum thing to say but alright

Jude: you're not wrong

Janis: oi

Janis: just speaking from more experience than you

Jude: while you can, I get it, I’m grabbing onto being a kid as long as I still can too but

Janis: That’s gone

Janis: you can’t be a child and be pregnant

Janis: just because it isn’t here

Jude: Why can’t I?

Janis: You have to take care of yourself and your body more than ever

Janis: that doesn’t compute with running about who knows where

Janis: you’re already responsible for it

Jude: you’re literally out-mumming yourself here

Jude: fun ✔️ risks ❌

Jude: I don’t have a death wish for me or it

Janis: Come on, you know it’s true

Janis: That’s it

Jude: I know I don’t have ages before I look like 🤰🏼 & I can’t even tie my own shoes ⏲

Jude: but I’m not dying, you don’t have to wrap me in bubble wrap

Janis: It’s a bit late for that

Janis: that’s my point, you need to be realistic

Janis: you won’t be the same person afterwards, you think you will but you won’t

Jude: so let me have now

Janis: What do you think you’re going to be able to do before you’re pregnant with all the symptoms, Jude

Janis: This isn’t about me letting you have anything, this is your reality, we need to know you understand that more than what you’re putting out right now implies

Jude: it’s happening to my body, of course I understand

Janis: It’s getting your head right as well as the physical shit

Janis: that does take longer, I know

Jude: yeah, when everyone’s having a go at you & telling you you’ve ruined the lives of everyone you care about that’s a headfuck

Janis: This is a headfuck, for all of us

Jude: I knew what I was gonna do & everyone’s putting doubt about now

Janis: That’s in theory, this is actually happening

Janis: You don’t get to do it without any outside forces

Jude: what if I can’t do it & I’m the worst mum ever?

Janis: You don’t know until you do it

Janis: actually, you never know

Janis: but that’s everyone

Jude: No way, you’ve gotta know you’re good at this, mum 🏆

Janis: Of course not

Janis: no one hands out actual 🏆 or gives you annuals

Janis: that’s what I’m trying to explain, it’s not horror stories

Janis: you sign up for a life of uncertainty and feeling like you’re doing it all wrong

Jude: I’ll make you one if I’m still allowed glue & scissors

Janis: Tah

Janis: the glue is non-toxic and I don’t think you’d get far with scissors in any serious capacity unless you got very creative so

Janis: go wild

Jude: When do I have to tell them at work? now?

Jude: they’ll offer me more than the odd saturday when summer starts

Janis: It looks better if you do it sooner

Janis: so they can’t claim you sprung it on them

Jude: okay

Janis: like, you can’t chuck someone for being pregnant but if you help them out, they’ll be more inclined to help you out

Jude: tomorrow after school it is then

Janis: 👍

Janis: do you need anything bringing back?

Jude: what like an unsuspecting boy to raise this child with me or?

Janis: I was thinking Lucozade, maybe some tablets, that kinda thing

Jude: in that case, no, I’m alright

Janis: Okay then

Jude: I’m gonna just go to bed so

Janis: Before dinner?

Jude: I’m tired

Janis: Alright

Janis: I’ll see if you’re up when I get home, if you want to talk more later

Jude: 🤞 I can sleep & won’t be, no offense

Janis: I’ll cope

Jude: me without dinner, there’s nothing that doesn’t make me feel sick rn anyway

Janis: that gets better usually, unless you’re unlucky, 2nd is the easiest bit

Jude: ffs would be the easiest bit when I’m basically done with & then don’t have school

Janis: I think that’s the least of your timing troubles tbh

Jude: Tah for reminding me of what I’m trying not to think about

Janis: yeah not a luxury you have kid, sorry

Jude: no need to remind me of all the luxuries I won’t have

Janis: Try to get some sleep then

Jude: 👌

Jude: love you

Janis: love you too

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