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elliesbelle · 2 months

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nobody compares to you

chapter 14

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, some setting is in a hospital, mentions of catheters and needles, descriptions and talk of anaphylaxis, mentions of financial difficulties, mentions of alcohol, mentions of toxic parents, mentions of death and suicide, minors do not interact

word count: 7.9k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

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my masterlist

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the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

palestine will be free

The first thing you feel is something plastic poking the inside of your nose. It smelled of chilly, medicinal air conditioning.

The next thing you feel is a massive, unpleasant weight on your chest. Then at the crown of your head. Then some weird pressure squeezing your calves every few seconds. Then an entirely full bladder.

“I need to fucking pee.” You mutter, voice dry and raspy.

“I think you can just go, dude.” A familiar voice replies.

You fight against the crustiness of your eyes but immediately regret it. All you can see through the slits of your eyelids is a harsh, white light.

“Am I… Am I fucking blind?” You whine.

“I’m pretty sure that your eyeballs are still inside your head. So hopefully not.” You hear the voice chuckle.

You fight against the unforgiving glare from above, forcing your eyes open. It takes a few moments to gain control of your body, but you’re eventually able to crane your neck towards where the voice had previously echoed from.

“J-Jesse?” You croak.

“Yeah. I’m here, bud.” Your raven-haired friend smiles.

You spot him to your left, sitting in, what appears to be, an uncomfortable armchair. He wore a blue disposable mask over his nose and mouth, his hair looking unkempt and unshowered, and you notice how his clothes look wrinkled and slept in.

“What happened? Are you alright? What’s going on?” You groggily inquire.

“You’re the one all strapped to a hospital bed, but you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

Jesse takes your hand and squeezes it appreciatively. He flashes you a soft, warm smile.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“I-I’m not sure…” You admit. “What… what the hell happened?”

“Well,” Jesse starts slowly. “You went on a date with Anderson to Orchards yesterday. At the end of it, you were being a total dummy and made out with her after she ate a whole plate of shrimp.”

“N-no, no,” You interrupt, scrunching your face up as you try to recall the previous day’s events. “She ate this whole soup thing for dinner. Some weird French dish with some weird-sounding name.”

“Bouillabaisse,” Jesse clarifies. “It’s a fish soup. It doesn’t always have shellfish in it, but hers apparently did.”

You groan.

“Oh, I am such a dumbass.”

“Please explain to me exactly how you were being a dumbass in this situation.”

“You literally just said that I was a dummy!”

“That was Jesse of the past. I’m a much more mature man now in my old age.”

You attempt to smack his arm, but he’s saved by the many coils of IVs attached to you, pulling your hand back.

As he playfully rebukes you for attempted physical abuse, another person enters the room. A kind-looking nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. Wearing dark blue scrubs, a low ponytail, and a surgical mask, she greets you with a friendly wave. She approaches your bedside opposite Jesse, and her glasses-covered eyes indicate a friendly smile.

“Hi there,” She nods. “My name is Yoojin. I’m your nurse today. I’m so sorry for not being here when you woke up. I had to step out for a few seconds, but your brother here assured me that you were in capable hands.”

You turn to Jesse and mouth in amusement, “Brother?”

He suppresses a laugh.

“Later.” He whispers through his mask.

You turn to Yoojin with a small grin.

“No worries. I only just woke up now.” You assure.

She gives you, what you assume, is another smile under her mask.

“So how are you feeling?”

Jesse remained by your side the entire time, only leaving briefly when he needed to use the bathroom or take a call. He sympathized with your gripes about being bedridden, making lighthearted jokes about your catheter, messing around with the IPC devices off your legs over and over until a nurse came in and kindly asked him to stop.

The TV in your room wasn’t working, so he kept you entertained, cracking his usual dad jokes and telling some old stories of Jackson you hadn’t heard yet. You pretended not to notice that the anecdotes he’d recall always excluded an essential person in his childhood, and you tried your best not to remark on it.

After a couple of hours, Dina finally came around to visit. She walks in as you’re berating Jesse for stealing a fruit cup you knew you weren’t going to eat. The sight of her immediately warms your heart.

“Dina!” You exclaim. “Oh, I missed you.”

Dina sets her bag down next to Jesse, lowers her face mask for a moment to give him a quick peck on the cheek, and pulls up a chair next to him. She takes your hand and beams at you graciously. You notice that her eyes are slightly glassy.

“Oh, babe,” She sighs. “I missed you too. Sorry that I’m just getting here. Had to deal with a few things before I came over.”

“Don’t apologize, D. I’m just glad to see you.”

She squeezes your hand softly.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” She gulps. “You worried us so much.”

“Sorry about that,” You grin sheepishly. “I was being a bit of a dummy.”

Dina blinks for a moment before giving Jesse a smack on the back of his head at this.

“Oy vey. You asshole.” She chides knowingly.

“Hey! No need to abuse me! I’m delicate.”

He caresses the spot where she hit him as you laugh heartily.

The couple recounts the events of last night for you, explaining in detail as much as they know. You listen without interruption until they reach the topic of your EpiPen.

“But how’d you guys get to my EpiPen so quickly? Did you pass by my apartment?” You ask them curiously. “I don’t mind if you guys did! It’s just not that close to the restaurant. Wouldn’t have made much sense to book it back to my apartment, honestly.”

Dina and Jesse share a look you don’t understand. Your eyebrows furrow, confused by their hesitation. Eventually, Dina responds.

“Uh, well…” She begins slowly. “Jesse actually happened to have a spare EpiPen at his place. Thank god, right?”

“You did?” You turn your head towards Jesse. “I didn’t even know you had one, Jesse.”

“Y-yeah,” Dina continues cautiously as you notice Jesse’s expression shift to a poker face. “He used to have an, uh, egg allergy growing up.”

“What?” You ask incredulously.

“Yup,” Jesse chimes in. “I grew out of it when I was in high school. But my mom still insists that I have an EpiPen on me. Just in case.”

You continue to look completely discombobulated. You don’t fully buy their story, especially since neither were looking you directly in the face. But you’ve always trusted Dina as a sister and Jesse like a brother, so you half-heartedly accept the tale they’ve decided to present you with.

“Oh, okay,” You say, slightly unconvinced. “Well, thank god for that, I guess. Is it okay that you used it on me, though? What if you suddenly need it again?”

“No worries,” Jesse assures you. “I’ll call my mom and ask her to send me a new one.”

His poker face improves, so you concede for now.

The couple continue to recount the previous day’s events until they eventually catch up to the present.

“Only family is technically allowed to visit you in the ICU,” Dina confesses at one point. “Jesse had to say he’s your brother to get past the nurses' station. The nurse manning the desk at the time could definitely tell we were lying, but she was really nice and allowed it anyway.”

“Oh, gotcha,” You say. “Well, you’re basically my brother, anyway.”

“You should feel so lucky to share the same genes as me.” He boasts, stealthily avoiding yet another smack from Dina.

“What about you, D?” You ask, turning towards her. “What did you say you were? My sister?”

“Nah, I didn’t wanna be siblings with Jesse, even just as pretend.” She grimaces.

“Okay, yeah, didn’t think of that,” You realize, scrunching up your nose in total disgust at the thought. “Gross.”

“Wouldn’t be able to get that image out of my head.” Dina shudders. “Anyway, I told them that I’m your life partner.”

“My what?” You giggle.

“Hey, it counts!” Dina defends. “Well, kind of. The nurse had to list me as your ‘spouse’ instead, which feels like a hate crime.”

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh as Jesse chuckles.

“What? You don’t wanna be married to me?” Dina asks in mocking shock and offense.

“I am absolutely honoured to be married to you,” You assure her. “I’m just worried about poor Jesse. How in the world are we supposed to break it to him that we’ve actually been married for over ten years?”

“Oh, please, Jesse’s known from the start that he’s always just been a side piece.”

“Hey!” Jesse interjects in indignance. “I’m right here.”

“Be quiet, side piece. The wife and I are speaking.” Dina waves him off.

You burst out into laughter at Jesse’s playfully hurt expression.

The three of you discuss what the doctors have told you, and you eventually bring up the conditions required of you to be discharged.

“I know that the doctors and nurses saved my life and whatever. And of course, I’m very grateful. And I truly do not mean any disrespect,” You say. “But I want to get the fuck out of here, uhh, right fucking now.”

Dina smiles and Jesse chuckles.

“I know, babe.” Dina sympathizes.

“You’ll be out sooner than you know, bud,” Jesse adds. “Don’t stress over it. We’ll get you out as soon as possible.”

“Oh!” Dina suddenly pipes up and reaches into her bag. “I can’t believe I forgot. I brought your phone. I was able to grab your purse for you before the paramedics took you away. I turned it off and charged it at home, so it should have some juice.”

She places your phone in your hand, and you flash her a grateful smile.

“D, you need to be canonized for your good deeds, I swear. With a statue and everything.”

“Oh, I know,” Dina smirks. “Brought your wallet too. Not sure if you wanna keep it here or bring it back to your apartment, though.”

“I’ll ask them if I can keep it here with me.”

A thought suddenly hits you.

“I’ll… I’ll have to figure out how to pay for all this when I get out.” You sigh.

“Oh, babe,” Dina says reassuringly. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. Just focus on resting, okay?”

“Your insurance will hopefully take care of a huge chunk of it,” Jesse contemplates. “It’s through your dad, right?”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” You say as your hands begin to fidget anxiously. “Something as big as this, they’ll probably contact my parents. I… I can’t let them know I’m in here. I know it’ll start shit and… I just know it won’t be good.”

The couple give you identical, concerned looks.

“D-do they know? Th-that I’m in here?” You ask timidly.

“Not that we know,” Jesse replies. “Neither of them is on your emergency contact list. And you know that Dina and I would never speak to either of them. Unless it’s to tell them to shove a stick up their respective asses.”

You and Dina giggle.

“Speaking of which,” Dina adds. “You can ask your uncle. I called him yesterday while you were still out. I hope that’s alright.”

“Oh, that was so thoughtful of you,” You say gratefully. “What did he say? I hope he didn’t worry too much.”

“Honey, you almost died. Of course, he’s worried. He loves you.” She checks the time on her phone. “He should be arriving sometime later today, actually.”

“Shit,” You groan. “He didn’t have to do that. He gets so busy with work during this time of the year. This must have been so inconvenient—”

Jesse suddenly takes his thumb and middle finger and flicks you on the forehead.

“What the fuck!” You exclaim in indignance, rubbing the spot you were hit, as Dina gives him another hard smack on the head. Jesse ignores you both.

“You are more important than any goddamn job that exists in the world, in the whole motherfucking galaxy. Your uncle loves you, just as we do. So no more complaining about it, dumbass.”

You give him a pouty look, but his words fill your heart.

Your best friends stay the rest of the time until your uncle arrives around midday. Relief and affection overwhelm you when he enters the room. You squeeze him with the tightest embrace you can possibly give for someone essentially strapped to their hospital bed. You ignore the loud beeping resulting from the tangling of your many IV wires.

After your friends help you unravel all the cords, they gather their things and get up from their chairs.

“We’ll let you guys talk.” Jesse says, offering his seat to your uncle.

“Oh, you don’t have to leave.” Your uncle graciously assures them.

“It’s alright; have some family time,” Jesse insists kindly. “I’m pretty sure she can only have two visitors at a time, anyway.”

The couple make their way towards the sliding glass door.

“I cannot express how grateful I am for you two,” Your uncle says before they exit. “Thank you for saving her life. And thank you for keeping me in the loop.”

“Please, no need to thank us, really.” Dina nods kindly. “She’s family. We would do absolutely anything for her.”

“That means you’re both family to me too.” Your uncle concludes. “Thank you.”

You hold back tears of vast emotion from three of the most important people in your life exchanging such caring sentiments. You’ve never felt luckier.

“We’ll be in the waiting room,” Jesse promises. “Let us know if either of you needs anything, okay?”

Jesse and Dina take their leave, and your uncle subsequently takes a seat next to you.

“Oh, Uncle,” You start before he can speak. “I’m so, so sorry. You shouldn’t have flown all this way. I can’t believe I was so stupid to have—”

“Hey, hey,” Your uncle interjects. “None of that. You have no reason to be sorry. You needed me, so I’m here. I’m not mad, and this is not your fault.”

Tears form in the corners of your eyes.

“I just feel like I’ve inconvenienced so many people. If I could have just paid attention…” You lament. “And now I’ve totally made you drop everything to be here. I know you’ve still got work—”

“You are a thousand times more important than my job, sweetheart.” He shakes his head and squeezes your hand, echoing Jesse’s previous words.

“But…”

“You are my family. Nothing is more important than that.”

You smile at his adamancy.

“And especially since losing Rafael,” He continues. “I think of you as my own.”

“I know, Uncle.”

You squeeze his hand back in affection.

“D-did…” You suddenly say. “Did you tell—”

“No, your mother and father don’t know a thing about this.” He answers insightfully.

“Thank god.”

“Did you want me to tell them?”

You grimace. Your uncle chuckles.

“I figured as much.” He surmises.

“I just don’t know how to keep this from them forever, though,” You continue. “They’ll see it through the insurance company. I…”

“Don’t worry about that. I can talk to the nurses later today before I leave, see if I can pay it in full myself without needing to use your father’s insurance.”

“Uncle, please. Please don’t do that. This is going to be so costly, and you’ve still got your mortgage and Raf’s leftover student debt—”

“I just want you to focus on getting better, alright? I don’t want anything else on your plate right now.”

“Uncle, promise me. Please. Please promise me. Do not spend a single cent on this. I want to do this on my own. I’ll figure it out. Please promise me.”

He gives you nothing more than a smile in response.

Your friends and uncle take turns rotating as your company for the rest of the day. They’d only leave your side when the doctors and nurses needed to conduct extensive tests to ensure that you were still stable. You were never on your own for more than a few seconds, your loved ones determined that you not feel alone.

You’d turned your phone on almost immediately after Dina’d handed it to you. But as a small, gracious gesture of appreciation, you had set it aside to give your visitors your undivided attention for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t until the evening, when your friends and uncle waved you goodbye as visiting hours ended, that you allowed yourself to finally glance at your notifications.

Anxiously picking your phone up, the first thought you have is to call Abby. Jesse and Dina had mentioned she was with them in the waiting room the night before. But, like your friends, she was informed that she wasn’t permitted to see you in the ICU as she wasn’t family. Dina and Jesse sent her home with the promise to let her know as soon as possible when you finally woke up and that you were alright.

You notice that she’d messaged you earlier in the day. But much too embarrassed to face her just yet, you decide instead to first call your old freshman roommate.

Tara picks up after only two rings, almost as if she’d been waiting by the phone for your call. She greets you with a happy shriek of your full name, an amused giggle escaping your lips as a response to her sudden enthusiasm.

“Thank fucking god!!! I’ve been waiting all fucking day to hear the sound of your voice!”

“Umm, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You reply, smirking. “This is actually Satan, here to leave a message. I’m calling to let you know that I will be collecting your mortal soul sometime during the next 24 hours.”

“Oh nooooo,” Tara plays along. “What on earth have I done to warrant eternal damnation, Miss Satan?”

“Not sure if you know, but homosexuality is actually a cardinal sin. And unfortunately, you seem to be a notorious, flaming homosexual. I know, I know; it’s quite disappointing. But alas, I do not make the rules.”

“But Miss Satan, are you not a homosexual too?”

“Well, that’s exactly how I know it’s a sin.”

The two of you crackle at each other’s banter, and you make plans in your head to spend more time with Tara and the rest of the girls after you’re released from the hospital.

You and Tara chat for a little while about the most mundane things, like her classes the day before and her plans for the weekend. She apologizes for not having more to say and for “being so boring,” but you’re genuinely happy to just hear her prattle off about anything.

At some point, she hands her phone over to Astrid, who greets you with a similarly delighted shriek that her girlfriend had received you with prior. She gushes over you with love and concern, insisting that she and all the Wilson girls come to visit you as soon as you’re out and adjusted.

“Tara just about broke down when I told her about it.” She reveals. “She was about to leave for her shift at Ruston’s when Dina called, and I’m pretty sure the whole dorm could hear her sobbing.”

“What?! I did not!” You hear Tara shout from a short distance.

“You had so much snot running down from your nose that I just about hosed your face down before you left!” Astrid yells back.

“Stop telling her that! She doesn’t need to hear all that!!”

You giggle at the couple’s repartee.

“Anyway,” Astrid continues. “Kris, Sid, and I tried to come down for a visit, but they apparently only let family in. Jesse and Dina seemed to have monopolized the fake roles of being your family already.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Addy.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” She brushes off. “I’m just glad that you haven’t been alone there. Those two really care about you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Dina started to make a whole fuss when they wouldn’t let us past,” Astrid continues. “Threatened to sue the nurses, all the doctors, the entire hospital. The receptionist nurse didn’t even get a chance to kick her out ‘cause Jesse himself forced her to go leave and take a walk to calm down. I don’t think she came back until a couple of hours later.”

“Yeah, that sounds like our Dina.” You snort.

The two of you discuss what you’d like to do whenever you finally get released, Astrid swearing to get you out of your apartment nearly every day after your discharge.

“I don’t think I have all the stamina for all that, babe.” You chuckle.

“Then you better get yourself to the gym with Jesse, and build that stamina the fuck up! I want your sexy self at parties and clubs, living your best 20s life with us!”

You chuckle warily at this, simultaneously pushing away the reminder of who Jesse’s daily workout partner is.

After saying your goodbyes to Tara and Astrid, you make brief calls to the rest of the girls of the Wilson Crew. They all answer your calls with an assortment of jubilant greetings, each girl expressing their elation and gratefulness that you’re finally awake and safe.

You send individual texts of love to Dina, Jesse, and your uncle, thanking them extensively for coming to your aid and expressing your excitement to see them again very soon.

Having done your rounds of gratitude, you finally acknowledge that you can no longer ignore the unread texts of the blonde-braided woman you’d had your near-fatal dinner with. You open up your message thread with Abby to see that she’d sent you only three texts earlier in the day.

You stare at her text.

Oh. Huh.

No part of you blamed Abby for the incident; in fact, you’d been feeling a tremendous amount of remorse for putting her through such a traumatizing and jarring ordeal. It had been plaguing you so much since you woke up that you were far too embarrassed to ask Jesse and Dina more about her.

But something about her texts bothers you. There was very little warmth and familiarity in her messages. Her words didn’t seem that of the woman who had been walking you to your classes every day, who showed you off to her friends at the Bow and the Arrow, who treated you to a lavish restaurant on a fancy date. Who kissed you with so much passion on the sidewalk of that same restaurant the evening before.

Is… Is she angry with me?

You continue to stare at her strange messages for several more minutes, unable to process the situation you’re somehow in now. You can’t think of an appropriate response that would lead to something honest, so you decide to put your response off.

A-at least until after they release me… At least until I get home…

The doctors only began to discuss the possibility of your discharge early Sunday morning. Though it hadn’t even been a full two days since your admittance, it took everything in you not to practically beg them to let you go. You’d been insisting to anyone who’d listen that you were completely fine, that you’d walk right out yourself if you weren’t strapped to your bed with a million wires.

It wasn’t until midday, as you were mercilessly beating Jesse’s Shy Guy as Pink Gold Peach in Mario Kart, that Yoojin walked into your room with good news. You don’t notice her at first, too busy taunting Jesse for landing in 7th place while you scored 1st.

“You only won because I got Lakitu’d in the second lap! Fuckin’ Isabelle was sending red shells at me nonstop…” Jesse gripes.

“Sucks. Sounds like a personal problem, man.” You shrug.

“Alright, I want a rematch, but on the Egg course this time.”

“You’re such a sore fucking loser!”

“There’s a shortcut on Yoshi’s circuit close to where the finish line is, by the way,” Yoojin interjects, eyes smiling. “If you use a mushroom and drift to the hidden waterfall on the right, it’ll get you pretty far ahead.”

You and Jesse look up, a bit sheepish at her witnessing your juvenile behaviour. The nurse looks completely unbothered by it, however, and she approaches your bed as you place your controller down.

“Aww, come on, Yoojin,” You whine. “Don’t tell him that! I’m on a winning streak!”

“Shh,” Jesse shushes you, attempting to cover your face with one hand. “Don’t listen to her, Yoojin. She’s delirious from all the drugs you’ve been pumping her with. I must know all your secrets, ‘cause I swear, this one is cheating.”

“Maybe later,” Yoojin laughs as you flick Jesse’s forehead. “Because you might want to hear what your doctor just told me.”

Your ears perk up at this.

“I can go home?”

“Your most recent labs just came back, and everything looks good.” Yoojin nods. “And your vitals have been stable for the last 24 hours. So unless you plan on wolfing down ten pounds of shrimp sometime before leaving, we can get started on getting you released sometime later today.”

Your face breaks out in a huge smile, and you turn to grasp Jesse’s arm.

“Dude! I can go home!” You exclaim.

“Yes, I heard,” Jesse says. You can feel his smirk through his face mask. “Finally.”

You turn back to Yoojin.

“I can go right now?” You ask.

“It’ll take a couple of hours to make sure everything’s set for your discharge,” Yoojin says, chuckling at your eagerness. “But just hang tight, and you’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Why don’t you guys settle things here while I go tell your uncle?” Jesse offers.

Your uncle had stepped out to get some lunch at the hospital’s food court not too long ago. He and Jesse had arrived on the dot when visiting hours began earlier in the day. Dina had accompanied them but left shortly after to take care of other obligations, promising to be right back the second she was done.

“Oh, that’d be great,” You say. “Thanks, Jess.”

“No worries, bud. I’ll be right back.”

He gives you a pat on the head before leaving you alone with the nurse.

“So before you leave, we’ll go over a few things to make sure you don’t suddenly relapse during the next few days,” Yoojin begins. “And we’ll make sure you go home with a couple of new, unexpired EpiPens, just in case.”

You nod as she goes on to explain the plans for your discharge. You listen attentively, determined not to end up back in the hospital like this again. As Yoojin wraps up, you work yourself up to ask her a question that’s been at the tip of your tongue since the beginning of the conversation.

“Hey, umm, before you go,” You mutter nervously. “I wanted to ask about how much all of this will cost me. I-I know it’ll be pricey and all, especially with two brand new EpiPens, so I just want to be prepared.”

“That’s not really something I can help you with,” Yoojin replies apologetically. “That’s the jurisdiction of the hospital’s billing department. But I’m sure you can get it all settled with your insurance after you’ve been released. Depending on what you have, they should cover most of it.”

You give her a tentative smile as you wring your blanket between your fingers.

“A-alright then.” You sigh defeatedly.

It takes about two hours for you to finally be released from all your restraints and another hour until you’re finally walking out of the hospital and into the sunny parking lot. Yoojin allowed you a quick embrace before you left, insisting that you promise to be much more careful from here on out.

You lean against your uncle and Jesse for support as you exit the hospital’s automatic sliding doors, legs still a little shaky after being bedridden for so long. Dina pulls up next to you in her car and gets out to open the passenger door.

“M’lady.” She says with a bow, gesturing to the seat.

“Shut up, D.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“You sure you’ve got everything?” Your uncle inquires.

“I think so,” You reply. “Didn’t really bring anything with me.”

“Alright, well, I’ll head to my hotel room first so I can take care of a few things. I’ll meet the three of you at your apartment sometime later today. Sound good?”

You, Jesse, and Dina all nod in unison. Before he walks away, you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, Uncle,” You murmur. “It means so much to me that you came.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Anything at all.”

He gives you a quick squeeze before releasing you, promising he won’t take very long before walking away towards his rental car.

“So,” Dina chimes. “Wanna grab some gross, greasy non-hospital food on the way home?”

When you finally cross the threshold of your apartment, you’d already wolfed down the majority of your fries along with half a chocolate milkshake. You collapse onto your couch with a relieved sigh, your best friends falling next to you on either side. You lean your head onto Dina’s shoulder as you take her hand between both of yours.

“I think I’m about to go into the world’s longest food coma.” You decree.

“I’m right alongside you, dude.” Jesse agrees, having devoured one and a half burgers himself on the way.

“No comas, please, or we’re gonna have to turn right back around and readmit you into that hospital.” Dina says.

“Never again, please,” You beg. “If I have to hear the nonstop beeping of a heart monitor for one more second, I’m going into straight-up fight-or-flight mode.”

Your friends chuckle.

“Alright,” Jesse eventually says as he sits up straighter. “Now that you’ve been freed, what do you want to do first?”

You hum as you ponder his question.

“Get so blackout drunk that I totally forget this entire experience ever even happened in the first place?” You offer.

“Right, well, perhaps we can do something that isn’t completely stupid and detrimental to your health. Especially after you were just in the hospital after almost dying.” Dina retorts.

You boo her as Jesse chuckles.

“Well,” You continue. “I guess I should tell the girls I’m finally out. I promised them I would. Or did you guys say anything to them already?”

“Not yet,” Dina says. “They’ll probably want to hear it from you.”

You groan.

“You’re right. Ugh. I don’t think I can handle the sheer amount of screaming and excitement that’ll come with it, though. Kris sounded like she was going to smother me with so much love that I’d suffocate from it.”

“You can always put it off, at least until tomorrow.” Jesse counters.

“I guess so. You think they’ll be mad?”

“Babe,” Dina says, squeezing your hands and rolling her eyes. “You almost died. I think they’ll survive a day.”

“Alright, alright,” You giggle. “I probably should focus on getting work done before class tomorrow, anyway.”

“Ma’am, I know you are not thinking of going to your classes right after you were just in the hospital all weekend.” Jesse scolds sternly.

“I’m fine!”

“Dear lord.” Jesse sighs, exasperated.

“Like I said,” Dina repeats. “You almost died. School is not a priority right now. You need to be resting, not writing essays and doing homework.”

“I don’t want to fall behind!”

“Didn’t your doctor give you a school note before we left earlier? She said you can give it to your professors to excuse you from your classes this week.”

“Yeah, but it’s not mandatory or anything. I’m fully recovered now, so it just seems totally unnecessary.”

“Like hell it is!” Dina bellows before releasing your hands to stand up from the couch. You fall flat on your face onto her spot when her shoulder disappears from under your head, and you muffle irritated curses into the couch cushion. You look up to see she’s disappeared momentarily into your bedroom.

“D… What are you doing?”

Dina reemerges after a few seconds, your laptop in her hands.

“Babe. What’d you get that for?” You ask suspiciously.

“I’m emailing all of your professors myself to tell them that you will not be attending any of your classes this week. Especially since it seems that you want to be such a stubborn dumbass about it…” Dina says matter-of-factly, shoving your head away from her spot on the couch to sit beside you once more.

“Never should have given you my password.” You grumble as Dina opens up your laptop and easily bypasses your lockscreen.

“Alright, who are all your professors again?” She asks, opening up your browser to access your email.

“I’m not telling you!” You reply stubbornly, crossing your arms.

“Hmm… I know she’s got Olinick’s double class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Mulligan at least on Mondays—” Jesse lists, counting your professors on one hand.

“No, no, no, I don’t!” You turn towards him, shoving your hands in his face.

“—I think Joslin from the English department too, but I can’t remember if that was last year or this year.”

“Jesse!”

By the time your uncle arrives at your apartment, you’d conceded to your best friends and allowed them to draft an excuse email to all of your professors. Dina opens the door for him after he knocks while you make final edits to your letters, and he settles into the ratty, secondhand armchair right next to the couch.

Your uncle chuckles at the scene before him: you with a focused look on your face typing rapidly on your laptop, Jesse leaning back into the couch while gently patting the top of your head as he continued to make suggestions to your email, and DIna taking her seat right back next to you before kicking her feet onto your lap as you lift and place your laptop on top of her legs. It had been a while since your uncle had seen you so relaxed around other people, the last time being right before your freshman year of college. His fondness for your best friends quickly grows by the second.

You look up from your work for a moment to smile warmly at your uncle, and he returns it with one of his own.

“Hi, Uncle! Sorry, I’m just finishing up this email to my professors.”

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. You telling them you won’t be attending any classes this week?”

“Yup,” Jesse answers for you. “Took a lot of bullying on our part to convince her not to overwork herself with school right now.”

“This dummy wanted to go back to classes right away as if nothing happened.” Dina rolls her eyes as she extracts a foot from underneath your laptop to kick you softly, earning her a stern “Hey, hey, hey!” from you.

“Well, thank goodness she has you two to set her straight.” Your uncle chuckles.

“Oh, she’s absolutely lost without us.” Jesse says, continuing to pat the top of your head.

Your uncle smiles. He can tell that Jesse’s joking around, but he knows that the couple have both been selflessly keeping you alive for the past few years.

“So how are you feeling?” Your uncle continues with concern etched on his face.

“Not so bad,” You admit. “Just so glad to be among civilians once again.”

You feel Jesse rub your upper back kindly.

“I’m sure,” Your uncle smiles kindly. “How about we talk about what you’re going to do now that you’re out?”

The four of you discuss what the next, post-hospital visit steps would be. They remind you of the check-up appointment you have later in the week, caution you once more about what foods you need to constantly be looking out for, and double-check that you have your new EpiPens handy and within constant reach.

“I still have my current EpiPen in the bathroom,” You say. “It hasn’t lapsed yet. So maybe I can give you each of the ones they sent me home with, if that isn’t too much of an inconvenience to either of you guys?”

You turn towards Dina then Jesse.

“You sure?” Jesse asks.

“Yeah, I mean, I obviously don’t want something like this to happen again. But if, by some hideous trick of fate, I end up in a repeat situation, it might be smart to just have one in multiple places. Just to cover my bases, I guess.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Dina nods. “As long as you have easy access to one at all times.”

“Yeah, that was my thinking too,” You agree. “Plus, I don’t want to have to use one of yours again, Jess.”

“Mm, I guess.” Jesse hums.

Your eyes meet his and you once again recognize his poker face.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Your uncle agrees. “Let’s try not to rely on just luck next time around.”

You give him an apologetic smile.

The sun had been set for at least an hour when Dina and Jesse finally took their leave. Both offer to stay the night, in case you suddenly need either of them, but you assure them that you’ll survive one night alone just fine. You embrace each of them tightly, putting every ounce of gratitude you have into your hugs.

You settle back onto the couch after you see them both out the door, and you turn towards your uncle still sitting in the armchair.

“I know I’ve said this probably a hundred times the past day or so,” You begin. “But thank you for coming, Uncle.”

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t come,” He replies. “Neither would Raf if he was still around.”

You both share a sad smile.

“I miss him, Uncle…” You whisper suddenly.

“I know. I do too.”

You sigh before continuing.

“I wish he was still here. I feel… I feel so incomplete without him around. Like this has all been an awful nightmare that I have yet to wake up from.”

“I know just what you mean,” Your uncle laments. “But our lives still go on, sweetheart. I think it’d make him sad to see us grieving him for the rest of our lives.”

“But… it just feels so wrong. It feels so wrong to stop grieving for him, to move on from him.”

“It’s not exactly moving on from him,” Your uncle ponders. “It’s more like… We make a place for him in our hearts. It’s sort of like he becomes a part of us. He’ll always be in everything we do.”

Your eyes well up as a childhood memory floods your thoughts.

When you were eleven years old, you had your first anaphylactic experience. You and Rafael were hanging out at his house, your uncle at work all day. You were making a mess in the kitchen, developing concoctions with half the contents of the pantry. As you were dumping a bag of marshmallows into a blender full of graham crackers and banana slices, Rafael fished an old bag of chips out of one of the cabinets.

The writing on the bag was all in a language you couldn’t understand, but the superheroes on the front seemed to be enjoying the crunchy snack. Raf was tearing the bag open before your greasy fingers started grabbing at its contents.

It didn’t even take two minutes until Rafael realized something was wrong. You were annoyed and taken aback when he slapped the chips out of your hand. It wasn’t until he was hauling you to the garage and strapping you into the passenger seat that you began to feel dizzy. By the time Rafael had driven to the emergency room, your skin had broken out into hives and your throat felt completely swollen. The last thing that you remembered before blacking out was your faithful cousin scooping you up and sprinting to the emergency room’s entrance.

You didn’t hear the end of it from your parents when you’d woken up from being unconscious after a couple of hours. Your mother spared no shame in relentlessly admonishing you, regardless of who was in the room, for your “stupidity.” The doctors and nurses offered you continuous looks of pity as they had to witness your many verbal lashings, though none stepped in to interfere. You were blamed for inconveniencing the family, for forgetting your EpiPen at home, for “forcing” Rafael to drive a car when he didn’t have his driver’s license yet, for obligating your parents to pay for your medical bills.

From that day on, your fear of your parents’ wrath was far greater than the fear of possibly falling prey to your fatal allergy.

All that gave you hope was your uncle and cousin coming to your defense. Unlike your parents, they showered you with care and love, especially Rafael who felt guilty and responsible for your admission. They nursed you back to health after you were released, Rafael promising you that he’d never let it happen to you again.

“Can I tell you something, Uncle?” You ask. “I didn’t even tell Jesse or Dina this. And I don’t think I ever could.”

“You never even have to ask, sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I…” You gulp. “There was a point… while I was in the ICU that I was a little lucid for a few moments…”

You wring your fingers together in uneasiness as you stare down at your lap, unable to meet your uncle’s eyes.

“I… I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t know I was going through anaphylaxis again. But I just knew… I felt that something was wrong with me.”

Your uncle listens to you intently, his chin on his hands folded as if he were praying.

“Something inside me… Somehow, I knew that I was dying,” You continue. “Or I knew that at that moment, I could die. I could keep going… or I could choose to let my body give out completely.”

You finally meet your uncle’s gaze.

“And I wanted to. I wanted to just… go,” You confess. “Not in a s-suicidal way. Not exactly, at least.”

Your eyes fill with thick tears.

“But… I wanted to be with him again. I knew that if I gave in, if I succumbed to whatever was killing me, I would see him again.”

Your bottom lip shakes as you continue.

“I miss him so f-fucking much, Uncle. I don’t know how to go on without him around. I’m so l-lost and confused, and all I want to do is talk to h-him about it. But I can’t. There’s n-nobody else in this world that I’ve ever felt as close to as him. Maybe except—”

You break off before you can finish, shaking off the memory of ocean green eyes and a constellation of freckles. The look on your uncle’s face tells you that he already knows how your sentence was going to end, but he says nothing.

“He told me he’d never let anything happen to me. He was always supposed to be here with me,” You sob. “I know that’s selfish. I know that his life didn’t revolve around me. But so much of mine did. I planned… I built my life to always include him. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

Your uncle’s sad eyes watch as you roughly wipe your cheeks of the tears uncontrollably streaming down.

“Sweetheart…” Your uncle begins as he stands up from the armchair to sit next to you on the couch. “You are not selfish. I know how much he meant to you. How much he still means to you.”

He takes your hands between his.

“I just…” You sniffle. “It’s been years. I thought I’d healed from it already. I thought I’d moved past all the pain.”

“It’s not a continuous thing, dealing with your grief.” Your uncle smiles softly. “You’ll have moments, hard ones where it’ll all feel raw and fresh again. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or selfish. You just have your own way of handling your sadness.”

You nod in acknowledgement of his words.

“But I think we both owe it to Raf to live our lives, to be happy without him around,” He continues. “His gift to us was time. Time with him and great memories. Even if he’s no longer with us, we’ll continue to carry that gift with us wherever we go.”

Your uncle smiles and you return it, though wistfully.

“I’m very grateful that you trusted me to share this with me,” Your uncle begins. “But don’t be afraid to talk about this with your friends. Especially those two.”

“Jesse and Dina?”

He nods.

“I see just how much they love you,” Your uncle says. “They seem like they would do absolutely anything for you. And I am so grateful that you have people like that in your life.”

“Yeah, they… mean so much to me.”

“I’m glad. So, please. If I’m not around, don’t be afraid to confide in those two. I’m sure if the roles were reversed, you’d do the same for them.”

“I’d do absolutely anything for them.”

“Exactly. So don’t be afraid to embrace the love in your life. You deserve that. And that’s exactly what Rafael would want for you.”

You throw your arms around your uncle and sob into his shoulder.

You and your uncle continue to talk for a while until you realize that it’s nearly midnight. Like your friends, he offers to stay the night in case you need him. But you know his flight home was only in a few short hours, so you insist that he go back to his hotel to get a bit of sleep before he needs to leave for the airport.

It took everything in you not to beg him to stay, but you couldn’t bear troubling him further. And you longed to finally have some time to yourself, so you put on a brave face.

After your many assurances that you would take care of yourself better, you walk him to your front door. When you open it up, you both notice a simple brown box with a thin bow placed on top of your doormat. You pick it up, noticing how light it feels in your hands.

“What is this?” You mutter.

“You got a package?” Your uncle asks, looking at the box.

“No… I didn’t order anything.”

“Strange. Maybe your friends Dina and Jesse left it for you.” He offers.

“I… I guess,” You frown. “Although, I don’t really know why they wouldn’t just give it to me when they were here earlier.”

“Hmm, that’s true,” He hums, squinting his eyes at it. “A secret admirer, perhaps?”

“Ha ha, Uncle. Very funny.”

You give him an amused grimace before untying the bow and removing the lid. You gasp as you recognize what it contains.

“Oh…”

You drop the box and embrace its previous contents.

“My Barbie Bear…”

author's notes:

thank y'all so much for you patience waiting for this new chapter to come out. i literally wrote like, half of this while in the psych ward, and that was all the way in decemeber sldkfjlsdk

tbh i meant this chapter to be a lot shorter than it turned out to be but lskdjfs more content for y'all ig!

reader's first words after waking up is inspired by me saying, "i need to poop so bad" when the doctors were busy working on me in the emergency room lmaoooo

silver lining of me being in the icu back in december is being able to describe it in detail in this chapter hehe. being in the icu suuuuucked but mostly cause it was boring and cold and i wasn't allowed to get up to pee!!!

the nurse yoojin is named after one of my nurses while i was in the hospital. i loveddddd her, she was such a sweetheart and it made me so happy whenever she was assigned to me. i was rewatching arcane while i was in the hospital, and she saw and asked me about it, and then we gabbed about the show and league of legends (cause she religiously plays the game but hasn't watched arcane yet), and i eventually convinced her to actually watch the show heeeheee

reader’s uncle saying he sees reader as his own is what uncle iroh says to zuko in atla, fun little easter egg heehee (you know me and my love for easter eggs)

reader greeting tara on the phone as satan was how i first greeted my best friend when i was finally able to call her through the public phone in the psych ward (hi rhi LOL)

pink gold peach is my main in mario kart lol

reader's professors mentioned are all named after old professors from my former college's theatre department (rip dennis, miss you always ❤️)

reader’s uncle telling her “we make a place for him in our hearts” in regards to rafael is what tara in buffy the vampire slayer says to dawn when their mom dies (can you tell i love btvs)

working on the next chapter asap, lmk what you think of this chapter in the meantime!

also i made an ao3, so if you wanna read on there too, check it out!

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drmslastmorning · 4 months

Note

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream breaks Technoblade's trust in prison

A lesson on trust.

Characters: Dream, Technoblade

Words: 5.2k (one-shot)

Warnings: panic attacks, canon typical violence. nothing big.

During Technoblades stay in the prison, Dream gets a little desperate to prove that he is not to be trusted.

Being with Technoblade has lifted Dream’s spirits. It's lifted them a bit much for his taste, honestly. Considering everything the other has done has been quite simple: Exist, take up already sparse food, talk far too much bullshit and annoy the hell out of him. He's not a fan of how easily the piglin hybrid can read him.

Technoblade’s involvement itself is calculated: it's within the plan, it's accounted for. He hasn't accounted for the way he'd make him smile, and distract him from the hell that is the prison.

That shouldn't be a problem in and of itself, Dream measures. He can stay focused regardless.

He doesn't know if the company is within the plan. Of course, Technoblade would've been involved eventually: For the exchange of a favor. But he's been here for a few weeks now. At least, that's what Dream presumes from what little sense of time he's gotten left. He couldn't know for sure and the realization that he couldn't tell leaves his tail swaying nervously. It's somehow easier to sit with your thoughts on your own. Correction: it's easier to ignore them on your own. It's easier to dissociate when someone isn't constantly chatting or snoring your ear off.

Dream doesn't sleep. Technoblade does it far too much. He guesses it's how the other planned on passing the time, and it's not really a bad bet. It's not like there is much else to do. It gives Dream something to do: Study everything there is about Technoblade. Not really intentionally, of course. He's not intending to stare, but could you blame him, when he's the only positive interaction he's had in so long?

The piglin hybrid sleeps messily. Loudly . He eats a lot, and he knows just how to get on his nerves. Though, he guesses he was already well aware of the last two. They've shared a few meals and more arguments.

Dream's passed out only very few times in the time Technoblade has been here, to the point the latter is unsure he's seen it at all. He prefers it that way.

"What are you, anyways?" Rings the question and Dream knows the other didn't miss the way he flinches at the sudden sound. "W-what's that supposed to mean." He says it like a dismissive statement, much less like a question. It's clear he understood exactly what Technoblade means, but doesn't intend to respond unless further clarified. He knows he doesn't pry. "Y'know." Pink hair messily falls over his shoulder. He undid the braid a while ago, and redid it at least 20 times since then.

Dream does know. The pen slips out of his fingers and he curses under his breath as it draws a messy line across the paper, him desperately reaching for it not helping.

"I don't," he lies, "you're distracting me."

Technoblade raises an eyebrow, toys with a potato that he's sure is going to start growing mold within the next 24 hours. "Species-wise, of course." While Dream's gotten a very good look of the other, the piglin hybrid has been kept very.. in the dark, to say the least. Dream makes sure to hide his face, and Techno hasn't attempted to catch a glance whenever he was distracted enough. He'd feel like he's intruding, if he did. Surely there's a reason he always wore that mask, after all. It's rude, he's concluded. "You haven't really let me catch a glance."

"What's it matter to you?" He mumbles, retrieving the pen and annoyedly smudging at the ink that's now splotched all over the paper. Smudging it more isn't really helping, weirdly enough.

"It's something to talk about, Dream."

"I don't feel like talking."

"I know. You never do. It's kinda your thing." He snorts.

"That's-- that's not true. You know that's not true. I just- You already made me ruin this whole page."

"Put that thing down for 5 minutes, Dream. I'm pretty sure we've got plenty of time for you to finish that."

It looks like he's right, but somehow, sometimes Dream fears, he might blink, and Technoblade might disappear into thin air.

"Fine." Dream hisses through gritted teeth, closing the book to set it aside. He leaves the pen amidst the pages to keep note of where he was. "Your tail reminds me of Ranboo’s." Techno remarks, and as if on command, it whips against cold obsidian and then curls up to hide behind his back. "What- are you just going to- analyze things about me?"

"Well, you're not telling me."

"That's still, like, weird." Dream argues, shaking his head. Something about it makes him really uncomfortable. Something about it is something he didn't account for and it makes him nervous.

"Man, you've been eyeing me up and down the entire time and I can't even catch a quick glance." He snickers at the immediate physical rise he gets out of Dream.

" WHAT?? " Oh, that blush is obvious. "I've- You're an idiot, I've literally-" Dream stumbles over his words, messy locks not disguising enough of his face to hide his expression.

"You're- You're stupid. You're just- you're just saying things. That's not even true!"

"I don't know bro, for an innocent man you're getting real defensive."

"I'm not-- That's not-- I literally have not been doing that." Defeatedly, Dream taps his foot against the obsidian, knees dragged to his chest.

"Uh-huh." Technoblade nods, beginning to redo his braid for the third time that day.

"Fuck yourself, seriously, Techno. I don't even know where- where you got that from."

"Maybe from the guy who's been eyeing me up and down."

" I HAVE NOT??? " (Dream’s heart beats in his ears and it tastes bitter and it's uncalculated and it makes no sense and he has to remind himself to breathe.) And it beats. And it beats. And it beats.

"So, what are you?"

"You're not going to let me live that down, are you?" Dream responds, annoyed. "I'm curious and bored." Technoblade answers, too honestly. Too honestly for Dream’s taste. Dream hasn't planned for this. Dream doesn't like the way he sees through him. "The answer- the answer is going to disappoint you, then." He gnaws on his lip for a moment. "Because I don't- I don't actually know ."

Techno raises an eyebrow curiously. He snorts. "You seriously don't, huh?"

"Yeah- uh- why the hell- why would I lie about that?"

"Uh, I mean, you've got the same tail as Ranboo." Techno deduces. "And he's an Enderman. I think?" He shakes his head. "But you're also not really letting me see anything else."

"You're being weird." Dream pushes, hiding his face in his knees.

"Not any weirder than you."

"Can I see your face?" Techno asks, and is surprised by his own question.

"What???" Dream returns, almost instinctively letting more hair fall into his face.

"Your face." He presses, shifting with his coat. "I wanna see your face. It's been so long since I last did."

"Why?"

"Curiosity." Technoblade shrugs, feigning disinterest. Maybe he's just curious. Maybe there's more to it. Dream hates the way he can't tell and he hates the way it makes his heart beat and he hates the way he squirms uncomfortably and he hates the way the proposed intimacy makes him feel and he hates it.

Dream catches his heart in his throat and chokes it with both of his hands.

"No." He responds, met by a dejected, "awwwh", from the piglin hybrid. "Just a quick glance."

"No." He repeats, with more tone in his voice.

"Just a quick one."

"I said no." Dream cringes, crossing his arms. "It's not like I've never seen it before." Techno shrugs.

"Be satisfied with that, then."

"What's the big deal?"

"We're not friends, Techno." His tone of voice seems insincere, but he wants it to be true. They aren't friends. This is purely transactional. Technoblade is here to rescue him on account of a favor. Something is going wrong with whatever he's got planned and now he's trapped here for the time being. It doesn't mean anything.

"Ow." Technoblade shuffles, moves as if something stabbed him. It's dramatics, Dream reminds himself. He's being dramatic. "First off, that hurts." It doesn't, Dream reminds himself. It's theatrics. It's to pass the time, it's to make him feel secure, it's to fool him, it's to- he doesn't know. Make him forget the plan?

"Second off, it's rude. I thought we've been having a real bonding moment here." Technoblade doesn't mean that, Dream reminds himself. "Well- boohoo." He fiddles with his fingers, with the book in his hands. "We're not friends." He has to emphasize that. (lest he forgets. lest he forgets that that too, is part of the plan.)

"I thought we were." Techno reiterates. "I mean, you've been watching me sleep. Would be real weird if we weren't friends."

"Oh my God, Technoblade. I have not-" He cuts himself off, rolling his eyes. He gives up. It's obvious he's just trying to get a rise out of him. He doesn't understand the point. It's distracting. It's going off the plan. It defies everything Dream did this for. He feels dizzy.

"C'mon Dream, I know you're still grumpy I keep calling you homeless, but I'd say we're friends."

"I'm not- I'm not homeless." (you're the one who kept not believing me I've got a big house filled with Redstone.) The thought makes him laugh bitterly.

Techno raises an eyebrow at the clear silent conversation Dream just had in his head. Some voices tell him something, but they sound drowned. The lack of food is beginning to mess with him bad, Techno eats a lot normally, so while he's not opposed to the potato diet itself, he's really been trying to cut down. If not only to not take away the little food Dream has.

Techno really doesn't like the way Sam clearly doesn't mind feeding him as much - considering he literally even gave him cooked potatoes when he asked for it. (it's all to starve Dream.)

"I know, I know. We're roommates right now, remember?" He snorts, which leads into an amused grunt, then translates into him holding out a baked potato in Dreams direction. "You want some?"

"... What."

"It's baked. Should be better than uh, y’know, the ones you've been chowing down." He gestures at Dream’s stack, which is honestly beginning to show mold.

"Why- how is it- where did you-" Dream stumbles and he looks so extremely bewildered Techno can't help but sneak a little fond smile. (Dream doesn't recognize it as such. His gasping heart categorizes it as him making fun of him.)

"I asked and Sam gave them to me. Under the condition I don't give you any."

Dream frowns. Deeply. He shakes his head. "Under the condition you don't give me any." He repeats, in a tone that makes Techno sick. Wipes the smile off his face and replaces it with a frown. "Hey man, it's not like Sam's gonna know."

"He'll know ." Dream reiterates, shaking his head. He feels sick. Sick. Sick. Resisting everything in himself to not knock it out of Techno’s hand.

"I mean, I'm not telling him. Are you?"

"If- if he asks , if I-if." He stutters over his words, he despises the frown on Techno’s lips. He's not disobeying Sam for some stupid- some potatoes. He could handle himself. The clear favoritism gets to his head, and he needs to turn away so he doesn't just grab the potato and throw it into the lava. Or better yet, he's throwing himself in it next.

Techno sighs. "Alright, man. Just thought I'd offer." He rolls his shoulders, then wordlessly eats it. He's honestly worried Dream might just starve to death one of these days. He certainly doesn't look good.

Dream’s heart beats in his ears. He wishes he could bang his head against the wall until he made a big enough hole for it to escape. Wishes he could reach through his own mouth and pull it up by its bits and pieces and squeeze it until there is finally no feeling left.

In the end he does none of that. In the end he frowns at Techno and doesn't say anything else. In the end he reaches his hands into his hair and tugs until he feels a few strands coming loose.

"You're- driving me crazy." He hisses. And it's unreasonable. And it's a weird mood swing from the Dream who was just confused then horrified and is now- maybe jealous isn't the right word, but he doesn't find any better ones to describe what he is feeling. Speaking of feeling, he hates the way his heart jumps in his mouth when Techno looks at him with that stupid snort. That stupid big nose ring, and those stupid big ears, and those stupid big tusks that hang upwards out of his mouth and-

Breathe. Breathe. "Man, I'm just being friendly." Techno says and it snaps a cord. "You're not! Friendly. You're A- annoying , you're, you're taking up already sparse food, you're, you're clearly being favorited by- mi- by the wa- by Sam -" He tugs and he tugs and he tugs and maybe this way he can get rid of this stupid long hair. "All this has achieved is- you're just stuck here now, too . Why the hell didn't you realize it was a trap? I didn't want you to get involved! You have- you- aaaaah!" He groans, frustrated, tired, exhausted, hungry, and for the first time in the while he's been stuck here he seriously wishes he had died already.

It's stupid. It's such a stupid thing to want to give up over. (was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it.) He thinks he hears Techno say something but it's dampened by the dread that's surrounding him. Maybe he's having a panic attack. Maybe he's having two. Maybe three. four five six seven eight-- he's been doing so well holding himself together but now he's crashing he's falling apart he's grasping at the pieces of a knocked over 3D puzzle and it does little to put it back together.

He's been doing so well smiling and talking with Technoblade whenever Quackity wasn't here he's been doing so well and he's been doing too well and it's exactly why he's tripping all over himself and falling and falling and falling --

It's a harrowing realization. That scaling any mountain is going to involve so much tripping and falling in the future. And it's more harrowing to him that he's decided to do it all alone. It's better that way, he tells himself, but for a moment, Dream would rather be dead than alone.

Maybe, if he gave up, while Technoblade, while Quackity- while it's- while he's not- while- while there's someone there- while he's not alone- while- if he gave up now, at least someone would be by his side while he did-

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. In, and out, and Dream hears a voice, guiding him, and he's breathing.

Breathe. Breathe. He closes his eyes. It's dark, and it's orange from the light of the lava and he's just barely catching himself.

When he opens his eyes again, he can breathe again. He sees pink strands and his first instinct is to--

He reaches out and tugs on Technoblade’s already messy enough braid. "Ow! Is that the thanks I get????? Ow- ow- Dream that hurts-" And he tugs and he tugs and he tugs and it's enough Technoblade has to stop awkwardly hovering his big hands around Dream's and instead grab onto them, halting the other’s out-of-nowhere violence. " Good ." Dream hisses, and it's venomous, it's almost- uncharacteristic. Techno pulls his eyebrows together and frowns. "You good? You had a little- panic attack there. And now you're attacking me! Scandalous."

Momentarily, Dream is taken aback by the piglin hybrid’s antics. Only momentarily, because as soon as he manages to wipe the way his expression cringes at his own actions off his face, he's back to pulling his hands out of Technoblade’s, taking one, two, three, too many steps towards the lava and almost falling backwards into it. He stumbles, and has to catch himself on the side of the wall. The lava is sizzling so closely behind him he's unsure if some of his hair, or his clothes might already be catching fire. He nudges just a little bit away from it, although he really wishes he could just let himself fall backwards.

He could, he reckons. No better time than now. No better time than when he's not alone with Sam and Quackity with the warden and sir with the violence and torture and-

His head spins. Technoblade says something again but hovers awkwardly out of his reach. Good. Good. This is better. That's how it's supposed to be. Transactional. As soon as they're out of here Technoblade will abandon him. That's how this was intended. He'll make himself heavy enough of a burden that even Techno will hesitate to dare put that strain on his back. That hesitation will be enough, he hopes. He is sure it will be enough. He closes his eyes, breathing. He should breathe, Technoblade is right. He opens his eyes again and his eyes search for Technoblade, who's looking at him with such a stupid expression of pity (and concern and worry and so many things Dream isn't sure he's identifying right and so many things that Dream hopes he is wrong about.).

Dream prays he is wrong about these things. Because God strike him down if he is right. God if he has to face that possibility.

He isn't sure how much time passes. He isn't sure how long they're just staring at each other.

"You better now?", Technoblade says after a long silence, attempting to approach him. Very slowly. As if he's afraid Dream might just stumble backwards into the lava if he startles him like a scared deer. Bitterly, Dream laughs. "Yeah", he catches himself, "Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. You have the strength of a toddler."

" WHAT??? " That gets to Dream’s head worse than Technoblade probably intends it to, when Dream stumbles over himself and almost catches fire on the lava. Techno snorts, lifting a hand to move it in a manner that's supposed to make him calm down but is only irritating him more. "You're- you're fucking insufferable, Technoblade ." Dream draws a breath through barely parted lips and for a moment he wants to cry.

The piglin sighs. "You know, I've been really patient, but you're making me curious. What happened? Since when are you so-- dead set on pushing everyone away? I mean, I heard Punz betrayed you, which must've sucked- but, Dream, I clearly don't mean you any ha-"

"Fuck off, Technoblade."

"Eh?"

"Fuck off." He reiterates, and he is so, so close to ending it all he needs to remind himself that part of the plan is that he stays alive. Part of the plan is that his heart keeps beating. Maybe he can respawn at least though. It's bitter. He threw himself in that lava a lot when there was nothing to do and the pain of burning alive was, funnily enough, the only thing keeping him sane. "We're not friends. We're not roomies. We're not- You weren't supposed to be here. You're so fucking- stupid- walking into that obvious trap."

Technoblade's vision swims, before it refocuses on Dream and he raises an eyebrow. "Dream- You do know I knew that, right?"

"Right. Right. And that's why you haven't gotten out. That's why you're still stuck here with me annoying me and trying to get under my skin all the goddamn time-"

"Well, I mean, some things went wrong. I'll be out here in no time, though."

(I, I, I, I, I)

I, I, I, I, I

It echoes in Dream’s head. He stares. " We ?" He whispers, it's hopeful, it's meek, and it's such a sudden change from the way he was just yelling.

"Uh, yeah. We. You're getting out of here, Dream."

They exchange looks. Stares. He's too busy reading every pore on Technoblade’s face to be distracted by the fact that he's doing the same to him. He stares at Technoblade’s pink eyes as if they have the answer to every question he's ever had. He hears his heart beat again and has such a visceral reaction to it; he bites down on his lip, balling his fists.

"I don't believe that. I don't trust you for a second."

The piglin hybrid sighs, toying with his coat to his braid, undoing it, since Dream messed it up anyways. "Right. I'm really beginning to believe that."

Dream thinks he hears sarcasm in that tone but he's not sure. He's not sure of any emotion he reads on Technoblade and it horrifies him. Quackity is so much easier to read: and Sam isn't too difficult to read too, he'd say. They're pretty similar, he'd concluded a while ago.

Quackity wears his heart on his sleeve. Observing him is like you're reading a picture book. Whereas with Technoblade he isn't quite sure he's got a heart in the first place. He isn't sure what he thinks of that conclusion. He isn't sure it's logical. Maybe it makes no sense to interpret it that way, he can't justify dehumanizing Technoblade to himself, but neither can he the way he got addicted to burning in the lava.

"What exactly am I supposed to do to make you-- ' trust ' me?" The Blade speaks up and Dream continues watching him for another roughly 20 seconds, not breaking eye contact. He's finally noticed that he's also eyeing him over and it makes something akin to horror crawl down his back. It settles on his spine and whispers to him. He can't make out exactly what it's saying but he knows it's gripping at the edges of his heart. It's digging its nails in and the only reason it's yet to bleed is that they are still in. Like a stab wound, it'll bleed so much more once removed. But it's bleeding either way.

Either way leads to death.

"Want me to prove I trust you? Do a little trust-fall?"

Dream’s face cringes at the way Technoblade snorts. "I- what - no way- I don't trust you and even if you trusted me, there's no way I can- catch you- in my current state."

"I'm going to be honest, Dream, I don't think you would've been very capable of it previously, either."

"You're----- You're really trying to make me hate you." Dream mumbles, kicking the floor, in a similar fashion as to he would before, and Technoblade takes it as a positive sign. He smiles fondly and it irritates Dream to no end.

The piglin hybrid shrugs. "Eh, sure. I'm not sure I can convince you otherwise, anyways."

Something stings but Dream can't identify it. Briefly, he wonders if the other feels something like that, too. Then he crosses that thought out, because he knows that the Blade doesn't own a heart that feels.

His brain rationalizes the dehumanization in a desperate attempt to drown his own feelings. It's not rational and he knows this, but he's horrified that if he looks at Technoblade like he's a person for too long he might forget the plan.

He wants to choke himself out for going down this path alone. But it's the only way to keep them safe. (dehumanizing Technoblade isn't keeping him safe. it's the very thing that's ended him up in this position. the very reason he can't just sit in his cabin and rest. The very reason he's right here and associated with Dream is because they're the same, the same, the same .)

Dream can't read Technoblade. But maybe he just doesn't want to. Maybe the other is written in a foreign language that Dream couldn't possibly have knowledge of in his young and naive years.

The admin sighs tiredly.

"You can't. I don't trust you and it's not like you truly trust me either." Dream huffs a laugh. "You trust me to keep you alive. For my own gain." He gestures at the lava, then at Technoblade. "Since I'm not going anywhere without you. But maybe you will just leave without me."

Techno frowns. Even to Dream it's obvious this conversation is getting tiring. Maybe he's beginning to regret getting under his skin, maybe he's regretting constantly running his mouth, maybe he's considering just going to sleep for the rest of his stay here. Dream doesn't know because maybe after all this time, he's finally forgotten how to read. He isn't even sure he can read himself anymore.

"I mean, yeah, maybe I will. You're not really making it enticing to take you along." Techno exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I'd say you should know I wouldn't actually do any of that, but maybe I misread you."

None of that sounds like anything Technoblade would say. Good, Dream thinks, he's listening. He's not completely dense. He's not completely naive. Of course, the plan is still for the other to take him along. "W-well, you've got a favor to pay back. Technoblade pays back favors."

"Uh-huh."

"And that's all this is."

"Right."

Dream can't decode the bitter way Techno nods. He doesn't understand the way his throat slowly closes up and he feels like he's choking. He concludes it's been plugged by his heart again and he hates the very way the Blade puts even his organs in a disarray. It's irregular. Makes no sense.

"R-right." He repeats Technoblade’s word, glancing away.

"Hey, you let me see your face."

"No I didn't."

"You did."

"I didn't fucking allow you to." Dream crosses his arms, frowns. Techno shrugs, looking at Dream again. The other doesn't look away. "Yeah, but you're still letting me look."

It's not fair. It's not. It's not fair. He can't even rebuke that one. He's tired.

"You've got a lot of freckles." Techno muses, with such a stupid, stupid fond smile. (this isn't part of the plan. Isn't part of the plan.) "Your cheeks are- fuzzy." He snorts and Dream wants to deck him in the face. ( shut up. Shut up. Shut up .) "And your eyes rat you out."

Don't get him involved. Don't get him involved. Stick to the plan. Don't do that to him. Stick to the plan.

It's not worth it. If he changes the plan now- he can't. The plan has to be the way it is. Punz is bad enough. This is bad enough. Dream suddenly feels so powerless that it's crushing.

"And what stupid things do you think they're saying?"

"I don't know." Techno shrugs now, taking a step towards Dream. Cautiously, as if he fears he might startle him and send him into the lava. "Maybe they're desperate." He guesses, stops just out of Dream’s reach. Dream bites his lip bloody.

"Yeah. Desperate to get you to shut up. Get things under control and get us out of here." He grumbles, fists balling. (for a moment, he imagines himself reaching his hand into the lava, cupping it, and then throwing it at Technoblade. He wonders if his hand would last enough for that, or if the lava would burn through quicker. He wonders if that could kill him.)

He wonders how much of it would hit Techno, or if he'd dodge. If he'd call him insane, or if he'd be worried. If he'd be worried for his own safety, or Dream's, or both.

"I'm at it! I'm at it. Someone's really impatient." Techno lifts his hands defensively. "You're the one who designed this thing so- inescapable." Dream licks the blood off his lips, tail flicking behind him. "It'd kind of defeat the purpose if it wasn't."

The piglin hybrid only nods. Dream only returns a nod. They're silent, observing each other as if they are reading a book.

Dream decides he needs to rip his pages out of Techno’s book. He takes a deep breath, looks directly at the other’s face.

"Come over here." He croaks out, embarrassed, clears his throat after. "Come here." He repeats, clearer now.

For a moment, Dream hoped he'd see hesitation in Technos gaze. He sees something, Techno does need a second to listen, but he doesn't see hesitation. He doesn't know what he's seeing. (Worry? Care? Concern?) Concern, for his own or Dream’s or both of their safety.

Technoblade listens and everything in Dream’s body was hoping he wouldn't. He'd hoped he wouldn't. But now he's standing in front of him, left of him lava bubbles. It's hot and unbearable to him, but Dream knows it's like second nature to the piglin hybrid.

"Do you trust me?" Dream asks, it's flat. The croak in his voice disappeared, it's just cold now. He can't read the expression on Technoblade’s face. He doesn't like the way he frowns. He doesn't like the way he has to break his neck to look him in the face when they are so close together.

"What's this?"

"No, shut up, answer the question." Dream shakes his head when Techno tries to gain knowledge on his intent. That won't work. That won't work. He made a plan and he's sticking by it.

Techno sighs. Rolls his shoulders. Then nods. Smiles. "Yeah, well, I do."

(I do, I do, I do, I do, I do, I do. It repeats in Dream’s ears until it turns to venom until it takes over every part of his brain until he can't hear anything else until it tastes bitter and bile and he wishes he could throw up.)

Everything in Dream hoped he'd say no. Everything in Dream hoped he'd say no.

He doesn't breathe for a good minute. Then he holds out his hand. His hand, small, burned, injured. There's little cuts and scars everywhere. He still has all of his fingers, but he is afraid he won't soon enough. "Okay. If you take my hand and close your eyes, do you trust me to not hurt you?" He continues, and his heart deflates when Technoblade listens. He hoped he wouldn't.

He hoped he'd make a snarky comment and refuse. But he doesn't even give him a snarky comment. The piglin hybrid's hand almost completely engulfs his own and Dream feels so small and helpless and weak, all of a sudden. It's like Technoblade is unknowingly pulling the carpet out from under his feet. It's like the obsidian beneath him disappeared. (The hand-holding is weirdly comforting and suddenly Dream wants to abandon everything he thought of, everything he planned. if he could just fall forward and-)

He grips Technoblade’s hand. Harsh. He's not sure where he draws the strength from, considering he hasn't even eaten one potato today. And he isn't even sure he ate one yesterday. He squeezes it, and for a moment, it may come across comforting, or comfortable, or-

Then he violently tugs on the other’s hand. Then he draws both of them towards the lava. Then, suddenly, both of their hands are touching lava. (Dream's barely is. Technoblade’s hand engulfs his almost completely, but he's probably more fire resistant than he is. He braces himself, grits his teeth, burn, burn, burn, burn, everything in himself is screaming to take it all back, to reverse time, to-)

"Let this be a lesson not to, in the future."

#ask #sixteenth-day-event #crivals #rivalsduo #cdnb #cdreamnoblade #dreamnoblade #cdream #ctechno

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kalcifers-blog · 8 months

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Pissa Headcanons to rattle around my brain like Tallulah's maracas

I feel like I shouldn't need to clarify this but I will anyway- this is all about the Cubitos, not the CCs

Sun and Moon relationship, but they look like opposite of what they are (Philza looks like he's the sun but he's actually the moon and vise versa)

Missa's hair is significantly longer than what it was after he returns to the island (Philza LOVES it)

Missa is deffo the type to give lots and lots of small pecks just all over Philza's face. Philza is just constantly sat there blushing and smiling

Missa likes to teach Phil how to play guitar (yes he does the thing where he sits behind him and holds the back of his hands to show him how to play. Great stuff)

Philza loves horror and doesn't get scared easily, Missa also loves horror but does get scared easily. Cue movie marathons between them where Missa is constantly jumping and Philza (playfully) laughing at him

I'm sure this is basically canon now but Missa also loves to teach Philza how to dance- in return Philza likes to help Missa out with fighting and offers to spar with him. They both have equally flustered reactions to the other showing them how to do said activity

Missa is very physical affection oriented. Whenever Philza is in his vicinity they're hardly apart for even a second because of how close Missa wants to be all the time (90% of the time he's not even doing it consciously)

Missa is taller than Philza (Avians tend to be shorter on average since it helps out with flying) it's not major or a huge difference in any normal circumstance but it definitely feels that way as soon as they're close in proximity to each other (it does not help that Missa wears those big ass goth boots with thick soles/heels, making him appear even taller than usual)

Philza likes to collect items that remind him of the people he's closest too (i.e, Technoblades emerald, Wilbur's guitar pick, Tallulah's amapola, Chayanne's rubber duck etc) for Missa it's a sugar skull mask Missa decorated for him (it includes his green colour scheme and the hardcore heart)

Missa also loves to braid Philza's hair and preen his wings and takes great pride in doing so (he's not AMAZING at it, but he still loves to do it)

Every government assigned couple were given rings when they first joined, at first Philza and Missa wore theirs as necklaces before they actually developed any feelings for each other- now they both wear them on their right ring fingers (they unconsciously agreed that they'll move the rings onto their left hands if they ever actually got married)

Philza can understand birds (he mostly understands crows but he's able to piece together what other types of birds are saying as well) so he's often telling them to "shush" when they catch him and Missa alone together

Missa has death touch, meaning anything living will die if they touch his bare skin. Anything besides (Death's favourite) Philza of course. (Also the death touch does not work on undead which is why he still hides away from Zombies and Skeletons, which is partially the reason why he's kinda shit at fighting)

Trans ftm q!Philza but his top surgery scars are the shape of an upsidedown heart (Missa thinks it's SO PRETTY)

Mumza is watching all of this go down with a bowl of popcorn like her personal weekly telenovela. She finds it the funniest thing that Philza's type is essentially "tall, dark and emo"

Wilbur did not know that Philza would like men, the whole "Phil- I didn't know you were bi, and polyamourus" is still canon, but at first Wilbur was kinda just joking not thinking there was actually anything behind it. You can imagine his shock when in fact, his dad does indeed like men.

#qsmp pissa #pissa #death duo #q philza #q missa #qsmp shipping #qsmp #kalcifers blog #kal rambles #headcanons

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tired-truffle · 1 month

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Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.6k

Part 4/40

"But good God what's wrong with me, after all? What am I missing? Why this emptiness, this nostalgia? What is this anxiety, as if I only loved something I didn't know?" - Clarice Lispector

Masterlist

“Do you sleep with it?” Leliana’s shock of red hair appeared in the corner of Gwen’s view.

“What?” Gwen paused in the cleaning of her daggers, having just successfully dispatched a group of travelling bandits, they were taking a moment to rest before returning on their journey. She had plunked herself down on a boulder, its surface rough and uneven, covered in patches of vibrant green moss that seemed to cling to it like a second skin. The tendrils of moss reached out towards the ground as if trying to anchor the boulder even deeper into the earth. She could feel the moss's soft and slightly damp texture beneath her fingertips. It provided a cool and comfortable seat, a welcome reprieve from the heat of the sun. Despite its decaying appearance, there was a sense of life and vitality emanating from the boulder, as if it was still connected to the earth and thriving in its own way. Shade from the lush green trees that swayed gently in the light breeze allowed for a moment of privacy from the prying eyes of her fellow companions. Or so she’d thought.

“The mask,” Leliana clarified, “is it not uncomfortable to keep it on at all times?”

Gwen shrugged, popping her daggers back in their sheaths that hung from her worn belt, “I’m used to it.”

Leliana twisted her mouth as she considered this, “So you do sleep with it on?”

“Why does it matter?” Gwen was quickly getting tired of this game, and her stomach had been rumbling unpleasantly for over an hour which spiked her irritation. Despite the tough exterior of leather and metal that she wore, Gwen's stomach grumbled constantly, a reminder of her meagre earnings and the constant struggle for survival. It gnawed at her like a wild beast, relentless and untameable, much like she was herself. She could not bear the feeling of hunger, like claws scraping against her insides, urging her to hunt and fight for scraps. She was no stranger to this constant battle against hunger, but it did not make it any easier.

“I’ve just never met anyone so insistent on hiding their face, you’re very dedicated, ” Leliana’s gaze darted down curiously. When Gwen bristled, the rogue was quick to correct herself, “Though I’d never dream of asking you to remove it. We are all entitled to our secrets.”

Gwen didn’t like the sparkle of mirth that danced in her eyes but was willing to let it go, for now. The woman was only curious, Gwen had no proof she meant any harm, “I don’t wear it at night if I’m alone.”

Leliana smiled brightly, the whiteness of her perfect teeth bright against her skin that had been darkened with dirt from their travels, “Thank you for indulging me,” she said with an incline of her head, “should you ever need anything I hope you know I would be more than happy to be of assistance.”

“Right.” Gwen sat stiffly, scanning for the hidden meaning within the other woman’s words, but she wasn’t a bard for no reason and there was no ulterior motive that Gwen could confidently find.

Leliana nodded before flitting off, gone to bother Sten instead, which seemed like a much more dangerous idea. The Qunari was the definition of surly, and unpredictable. He’d killed a whole family in cold blood and seemed to have little remorse for his actions. To top it all off he was massive, both in height and in muscle, and could easily crush the much smaller woman.

However, Gwen was entranced by Leliana's fluid movements, her lithe body gliding with ease and grace. She felt a sense of reassurance, knowing that she would be able to swiftly dodge any of Sten's attacks should he become provoked enough to strike.

The group began moving again after their short rest, Leliana still thankfully in one piece despite Sten’s less-than-pleased scowl.

The dirt path stretched ahead, surrounded by trees on either side with branches that bent inwards towards the path. The rich green leaves cast dappled shadows on the ground, providing a soothing contrast to the harsh rays of the sun. The air was filled with the cheerful chirping of birds, their vibrant colours flitting between the trees. Gwen caught a glimpse of something soft and delicate resting on the ground. Keeping her eyes locked on it, she cautiously bent down and picked up the light blue feather. Its gentle touch against her skin reminded her of the old sheets she had in her childhood room, so worn by age that the once itchy fabric had become soft. She stuffed it in her pocket, no longer wanting to touch it - to bring out those memories - but feeling unable to part with it.

At the front of the group, Darcy and Leliana walk side by side, their figures silhouetted against the bright sky. Darcy's animated gestures were mirrored by Leliana's graceful movements as they chatted, their voices carrying lightly through the peaceful surroundings.

Gwen’s attempt to ward off further company was quickly thwarted, her hunched shoulders and slow pace meant to signal for others to stay away were promptly ignored. Much to her growing irritation, some of the other party members seemed to have temporarily shut off all connection to their ability to understand body language.

“So,” Alistair dragged out the vowel as he sidled up to where she walked behind the group, purposefully alone, but no longer. It had been four days of travel, four days of avoiding his curious gaze as she stuffed food under her bandana. He’d tried to engage in conversation with her with limited success as she’d stuck to one-word answers as much as she’d been able to, much to his frustration. However, an unanticipated side effect of her frequent dismissal of the former-Templar was Morrigan’s approval, the witch seemed to warm up to her the more that she ignored Alistair’s attempts to befriend her. It was a strange consequence, but not one that Gwen minded as Morrigan was not the type to engage wilfully in meaningless conversation.

Gwen had been dreading the inevitable moment when someone inevitably brought up her bandana, but so far they had only given her quizzical - or judgemental - looks. She could accept those, they were all entitled to their own opinions, and she’d take stares over attempting to rip the cloth off her face any day. She wondered how much of it was thanks to Darcy. He had been insistent that the others respect her privacy and none seemed to want to disobey his command. But even in their silence, Gwen could sense their curiosity and disapproval lingering in the air.

Gwen raised her eyebrow, “You have a question you wish to ask.” She stated, as had become their routine. He would ask her something small, like how she was enjoying the sunny weather, to which she would give a short reply, like ‘it’s fine’. He would then pout and she would continue to ignore him until he came up with another pointless question.

A wide, mischievous grin spread across his face like a magician revealing his best trick. As the corners of his lips turned up, Gwen couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and she instinctively tensed her muscles, bracing herself for whatever he had in store. She could practically hear the gears turning in his mind as he plotted his next move, “I was actually going to suggest you ask me a question, you know since I’m the one always bothering you, I figured it’s only fair.”

Gwen had not expected that, “And if I do not have any questions for you?”

Alistair’s grin continued to grow, he had anticipated this. He’d managed to glean enough about her tendencies from their limited conversations to know how she would respond, how irritating, “Then I will continue to ask you increasingly simple questions that will bore both of us out of our skulls. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you hate that.”

Gwen narrowed her eyes at him, “Well played,” he beamed at the compliment and Gwen found herself regretting that she’d given it. His ego had inflated, and a man with an inflated ego was never a good thing, “Why do you insist on asking me inane questions when you know I don’t like it and do not want to answer?”

“Because I want to get to know you, is that truly such a terrible thing?” The earnestness with which he regarded her had her stomach churning uncomfortably.

“Why?” Had he figured out there was something wrong with her and was trying to pinpoint what it was? Or did he find her face covering suspicious and want to slowly worm his way past her defences until he could expose her true, rotten self?

He looked at her like she’d asked him why the stars glowed only at night, “Why would I not?”

Gwen hummed noncommittally in response. She didn’t have a good answer, at least not one she was willing to share. She sighed as she considered his ask, she was getting rather bored, there was nothing but miles of road and other than fighting one group of bandits, they had done nothing but walk and camp. Maybe if she indulged him this once he would realize that nothing was interesting about her and back off. She doubted that would be the case, but she may as well try.

“Why are we helping Lady Isolde instead of letting her sacrifice herself for a problem she caused?” It had been bugging her for days. They had set out to fight the Darkspawn and so far they had fought exactly none. What was the point of helping Isolde if there was no Darkspawn involvement?

She had wanted a topic change and she had succeeded, potentially a little too well as Alistair’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and he gapped at her, “What?”

Gwen cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the intensity of his stare, and kept her gaze trained on the road ahead, “Why are we taking on this responsibility, spending extra time to double back to solve a problem she could have easily avoided, and potentially putting the rest of Ferelden at risk if we lose too much time to stop the Darkspawn Army.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and Gwen watched him nervously from the corner of her eye, concerned about what she had gotten herself into. It had been an honest question and she’d tried to keep the accusation out of her voice, though she had never been the best at controlling her tone, whether she meant to or not, her true feelings always found a way to seep through, like rainwater through an old thatched roof. This had been a bad idea.

“You seem very concerned about stopping the Blight for someone who only joined us two days ago.”

“The Blight affects everyone, I am included in everyone,” she retorted, “of course, I’m concerned about stopping it. But you didn’t answer my question.”

After a moment of consideration, her answer seemed to satisfy him enough and he returned to the topic of Isolde, though Gwen wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, “Lady Isolde made a bad decision, but it wasn’t on purpose, she was trying to do the best with a shitty situation. We can’t let her or Connor suffer when we have a chance to help them. Blood Magic always creates more problems than it solves, do you honestly think that it's the answer?”

“From what I’ve seen, magic is magic, whether it's blood magic or otherwise, it's the mage that makes it good or evil.” Gwen folded her arms over her chest defensively.

He waved his hands in front of himself like he was trying to ward off invisible demons, “I am not arguing Blood Magic with you, it is evil, end of story. And would you really be okay with letting a boy become motherless just because we were too lazy to help them?”

Gwen felt like this conversation was quickly getting out of control and she didn’t know how to fix it, she tried to soften her tone, “He has a father and an uncle who love him, does he not?”

“That’s not the point,” Alistair insisted, the muscle in his jaw ticking, “Even if we can save Arl Eamon, Isolde is still his mother. If I was in Connor’s shoes and I found out that my mother’s life could have been spared but people chose to kill her for simplicity's sake I would be beside myself. Would you not feel the same if it was your mother?”

With her eyes fixed on the distant horizon, Gwen tried to steady her breathing. The mention of her mother struck a painful chord within her, dredging up memories and emotions that she had spent years trying to bury. If she let those memories in, she would never be able to get out of the deep pit it would put her in, scrabbling at the dirt walls with broken nails, calling - begging - for help.

In and out, in and out, I am safe, they cannot find me, they cannot hurt me.

Gwen kept her tone as neutral as possible, devoid of all emotion, “Saving Isolde does not exist in a void. If we’re unsuccessful at stopping the Blight because we were delayed trying to save her, neither of them will live anyway. Nor will any of the common folk of Ferelden. Are the lives of these two nobles worth more than that?”

A flash of irritation crossed his face, Gwen cursed herself, she should have let it drop, but she hadn’t been thinking straight when the topic of her mother had been brought up.

“Of course, I care about the lives of all the people of Ferelden, but how can I condemn a mother’s actions when she was simply trying to protect her son?”

“She wasn’t trying to keep him safe, she was trying to keep him close to her even though she knew it came with risks. I don’t blame her for being unwilling to part with her son, but parents must make hard decisions that are in the best interests of their children, whether they like that decision or not. Would the Circle not have been the safest place for him if he was so susceptible to demon possession?” Gwen tried to keep a gentle tone, but monsters were not made to be gentle and the words came out harsher than she’d meant them to be.

Alistair scoffed, “And you would know what’s best for Connor? Losing his mother and potentially his father in quick succession. How could you wish that on anyone?”

“Do not put words in my mouth,” Gwen warned, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, and her top lip curling up, “I do not wish for the boy to be miserable, but Isolde should pay for what she’s done. Her actions led to the deaths of many of the castle staff, some of whom were likely mothers. What about those children? Do they not deserve justice too, or do nobles exist above such simple things?”

She hadn’t meant to let her personal feelings into this conversation, but she couldn’t control the dam that threatened to burst in her chest, covering all those near her in the hatred spewing from her in waves.

“Isolde and Eamon aren’t like that.” All the irritation seemed to deflate out of him, as though her anger had overwhelmed his and he could do nothing but surrender. “They… took me in when I was a child and had nowhere else to go. I owe it to him to try to save his family.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, “Can you just trust me on this? I know they’re good people, and they deserve our help.”

But Gwen wasn’t ready to let go, even if her anger subsided as she watched his face soften, she felt the urge to keep going, to dig deeper, to push and push and push until something broke. “I don’t make it a habit to accept things I don’t understand, I won’t live in ignorance simply because it’s easier. I trust that you believe they are good people, but I don’t understand why this family bond is so important to you that it is worth putting the lives of hundreds of others at risk.” She exhaled sharply out of her nose and tried her best to reign it in, but the words were stuck in her throat. She hadn’t meant to upset him, but she’d done it so easily. This was why she’d been avoiding engaging in conversation, she always messed it up. No matter her intentions, she irritated people without meaning to, it was safest to avoid it as much as possible.

I want to know what I’m missing out on, Gwen wanted to say. It was too private, too vulnerable to share with a man she barely knew. This conversation had already crossed many of her boundaries, she must retain some if she was to make it through this mission. Though it was looking less and less likely every day.

Alistair glanced over to where she walked, her hair hung in her face, her head bowed to hide from him so he wouldn’t see the myriad of emotions she was struggling to suppress, “Have you ever had someone you were really close to, someone you’d risk your life for without a second thought?”

In and out, breath in and out, Gwen repeated in her head, the silence between them deafening. Do not think of her, not now, do not think of- “Yes.”

“If that person had been threatened to be taken from you and locked up, would you not have tried to find a different way to keep them safe?”

Gwen would have done anything to keep her safe, not that it would have done her any good in the end since it was all Gwen’s fault, always her fault, she was the reason her only friend didn’t-

Gwen gritted her teeth, “You cannot keep the ones you love safe when you put them in danger by being in your presence. By keeping Connor with her, she opened him up to possession, whether she meant to or not, that is what she did. And now she has the chance to save him, to end his torment as soon as possible. If I’d had that option I would have taken it in a heartbeat, I would have killed anyone who tried to stop me from sacrificing myself for her because that is what you do for the people you love.” That is what you do when it is your fault they are suffering.

Alistair was silent and the air felt heavy. “…Her?”

Shit, she’d been so caught up in her memories, in her feelings, she’d let that small mistake slip, and Alistair had caught it immediately. For as much as he played the goofy buffoon, he was sharper than she had initially believed. Clever, annoyingly clever.

When she didn’t answer, Alistair sighed heavily and shook his head, “Look, I think she deserves a chance. She made a mistake, but she shouldn’t have to pay with her life. She’s important too, just like Connor. She can atone later, but she can’t do that if she’s dead. If we can help then we should, or at least try to, it’s the right thing to do.”

Gwen lifted her head, closing her eyes as she released the tension in her shoulders, she shouldn’t have gotten so riled up. The way he watched her with sympathy - with understanding - caused her heart to trill with panic. She couldn’t let him know what she’d done, she knew better than to show weakness, “Fancy yourself quite the hero, huh?”

Make a joke, make it light, and get him to move on. She couldn’t scare him into silence, not unless she wanted more problems, so her usual go-to was not a viable option. Instead, she would take a page out of Alistair’s book and hope that he could read his own handwriting. When he cracked a wry smile, she knew she had won and relief flooded her chest, “I wouldn’t go that far. Darcy is the real hero here, I’m just tagging along for the ride and doing my best to help whenever I can. If that makes me a hero, then sure,” He puffed out his chest and deepened his voice, adding an air of pomp that made him sound ridiculous and pulled at the corner of Gwen’s lips as she fought back a smile, “Alistair, the world’s most average hero, his slogan: He’s just a guy whose trying his best. It’s enough to make any Fereldan feel safe.”

Gwen snorted a laugh, surprised at the ease with which the noise came out of her, “I don’t know, I think you’re at least high average, you should give yourself some more credit, you are great at hunting Nugs, I’m sure they have some tales of a fearsome man with spiky hair and a sinister grin.”

“Ah yes, my most worthy of foes: the Nug," Alistair quipped sarcastically.

Gwen's chuckle trickled off into silence as she replayed their conversation in her head, stuck on one part of what he had said, “Why did the Arl of Redcliffe take you in?” She asked, tilting her head as she scrutinized his face.

Alistair’s smile turned into more of a grimace and he rubbed the back of his neck with a heavily armoured hand, “Ah, yes, I suppose you weren’t around when I told Darcy.” He started to examine a seemingly very interesting spot on the back of his hand, “I’m, uh, sort of the bastard son of King Maric. After my mother died he sent me to live with the Arl. I lived with him for the first ten or so years of my life before I was sent to the Chantry.”

Gwen let that information sink in, digesting and mulling it over while Alistair watched her nervously, expecting some sort of reaction. After letting him sweat it out for a moment, Gwen broke her silence, “I can see now why you’d think you owed him something, things could have been much worse for a bastard. A rundown orphanage in a tiny village with no clue as to your parentage, for example.”

Alistair’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath of relief. Gwen raised an eyebrow at him, “You thought I’d be upset you’re a bastard?”

“You don’t seem to have any love for nobles, and my being the heir to the throne and all… I was mildly afraid you were going to yell at me, or maybe stab me with those pointy daggers you’re always reaching for.”

She hated that he’d already noticed yet another one of her habits, “Only mildly?”

“Yes? Or is the threat of being run through more real than I’d previously thought?” He said, a mock-anxious tinge to his voice.

Gwen sucked her front teeth, “I’m losing my touch, I’ll have to fix that.”

“Or, and I’m just spitballing here, you could not threaten your friends?” Alistair countered, his hands held out in mock surrender.

Gwen frowned under her bandana, “Friends? We were just arguing.”

Alistair shrugged, his hands dropping casually to his sides, “And now we’ve made up!” He broke out into a lopsided grin, something Gwen had observed him doing often. It made him look younger, his eyes brighter, though she didn’t know how old he was, she assumed he was somewhere around her age, in his early twenties. She didn’t know her own age either, but it was her best guess.

Gwen shook her head, hiding the smile that had crept up to her eyes, the more she argued with him the more he would insist, “If you say so.”

He puffed up his chest, “I do say so, Milady, and as the hopefully-not-future-King, what I say is law so you can’t disagree.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, but could not suppress her smile. They lapsed into silence, however unlike prior times when Alistair would stare at her expectantly, hoping for something more than a one-word answer, he seemed almost… content? Like he was pleased with himself for getting her to speak with him, as though it was some sort of a big accomplishment. She certainly had resisted at first, but it wasn’t like she had made it particularly difficult. Or maybe she had and she just hadn’t realized it. Anything beyond frightening people was out of her expertise when it came to socializing. Though from what she had seen in her limited observations of human interactions, when someone was playing hard-to-get, they were much more obvious about it. She had gone for the ‘lay low and maybe he’ll stop being interested’ route, but when her initial plan failed to have the desired effect, she resorted to asking a pointed question that struck a nerve. Yet he still didn’t seem intent on leaving her alone.

A spark of warmth started to unfurl in her chest, like the bud of a flower that had been frozen in ice for years and was only now starting to feel the first rays of sunlight. It unnerved her, she wasn’t supposed to feel like that, she hadn’t felt like that since she was a child. Yet the feeling didn’t last long, quickly replaced by the swirl of memories she accidentally unleashed only moments earlier. Blood, splattered across a cold forest floor, a scream cut off with an abruptness that left her ears ringing. Dread, fear, blame, it was her fault, it was all her fault. The world had been darker, she had stolen its light. She couldn’t - wouldn’t - steal another, she didn’t deserve such kindness, and Gods was Alistair blinding when he smiled at her like that.

Gwen tucked her hands into her pockets, hunching her shoulders, and slowing her pace, Alistair slowing along with her, not seeming to be aware of what she was doing, until they were mixed in with the larger group, chattering happening around them. Some were more willing to talk than others, as shown by Morrigan’s annoyed huff as Darcy directed his latest tale her way.

Gwen dropped her gaze, but out of the corner of her eye, she watched Alistair. He blinked, having realized that they were no longer ahead of the group. A small frown pulled at his lips and he looked at her like he wanted to say something, but upon seeing her avoiding eye contact, her hands shoved into her pockets, he turned away a look of disappointment flashing across his face.

Gwen didn’t understand why he was disappointed. Usually, people were relieved to not have to speak to her, let alone be alone with her. It was something instinctual, to give her a wide berth, an old knowledge that being close to her would spell their demise. Alistair was a constant presence, always hovering near her like an overeager puppy. His attempts to engage her in conversation and make her laugh were persistent and frustrating. She couldn’t fathom why he was so intent on being around her. It was for the best she didn’t allow his curiosity to go any further. She couldn't afford to be selfish and allow herself to be swept up in this fantasy that she was deserving of attention from someone like Alistair, a Gods-damned prince.

Gwen didn’t belong with them. As soon as she had what she was looking for - though she was still unsure what that was exactly - she would part from them. Assuming she lived long enough and that blasted song that never ceased to swirl around her skull didn’t take her first. Or Alistair didn’t run her through the moment he learned what she was hiding. It was silly of her to crave any sort of companionship with him, monsters do not deserve love and kindness, the only way a monster learns is through pain. Gwen had learned plenty of agonizing lessons, she only hoped that Alistair would not become one of them.

Next Chapter

A/N: I think the update schedule will likely be every Sunday from now on, but if there's more interest I can try to get chapters out more frequently! What do you think Gwen's secret is?

#angst with a happy ending #slow burn #fluff #eventual smut #falling in love #humour #alistair dao #alistair dragon age #alistair theirin #alistair x original character

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jpeg-dot-jpeg · 2 years

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The lights of the city twinkled below them in a patchwork quilt of streetlamps, glowing windows, and neon signs. In the distance, Clark could hear the shrill wails of ambulances and police cars, but the damage was minimal and the casualties few. The three of them were just waiting for Barry to return from his third sweep for emergencies before they could debrief, write their reports, and go home.

If he searched for it, Clark could make out the high pitched whizzing noise characteristic of the Flash in motion, blanketed by a million ambient sounds; the buzz of electricity, the hum of a million breaths, pagers beeping, cars rumbling, food cooking, bits and pieces of people’s lives snapshotted in the imperceptible ripple of waves through the air.

Next to him, Diana’s was a low, steady wave, feeding Batman the few scraps of intel he didn’t already have. The words slipping out of her mouth in their smooth alto occupied his attention until-

bee-boop bee-boop bee-boop-bee-boop-bee

The ring of a mechanical melody jarred Clark out of his reverie. Clark blinked. The strange 8-bit chorus continued to play, soft enough to escape the notice of his colleagues.

The sound of video game jingles was becoming more and more familiar to him these days, filling shops and living rooms, often accompanied by the delighted cheers or defeated groans of children. But as far as Clark could tell, there weren’t any children at the top of the insurance building they were currently loitering on.

In fact, if Clark didn’t know any better, he’d say the noise seemed to be emanating from Batman. With his cape wrapped all the way around him, a huge swath of black fabric concealing his body and the numerous weapons no doubt stored on it, the source of that noise was hidden from him. And while it was common to hear an alert or signal beeping a warning from somewhere on his body, those alerts didn’t come in the form of music.

“Do- do you guys hear that?” Clark interrupted, possessed by the need to understand where that noise was coming from.

His two companions went silent, listening intently for anything unusual in the night around them.

After a moment, Diana replied, “Are you talking about that music?”

“Yeah,” Clark answered. “What is that?”

“Oh,” Batman said in that rasp of his.

Then he peeled back his cape, parting the black curtain of it to reveal a child curled up at his feet.

“Say hi, Robin,” Batman instructed the boy.

“Hi,” The boy obliged, glancing briefly up at the superheroes above him before immediately returning his attention to the Gameboy clutched in his gloved hands.

Clark and Diana stared for a moment in stunned silence.

At first, Clark wondered if he might be hallucinating. Then, his mind rationalized that perhaps this was just a victim being cared for under the watchful eye of Batman before he could be taken back to his family, or wherever else he belonged.

But then he processed the colorful costume the boy wore, the domino mask covering his eyes, the way he was sat crisscross-applesauce between Batman’s boots, leaning comfortably back against armored shins.

The cape was lowered back down, hiding the boy from view and returning Batman to a shapeless blob.

Diana was the first the gather her wits back up.

“How long has he been there?”

Batman’s face betrayed nothing. “The whole time.”

“The whole time we’ve been on this roof?” Diana clarified, incredulous.

“The whole time we’ve been in Metropolis.”

Clark’s jaw dropped. Surely, if Batman had been carting an elementary schooler around all night, he would’ve noticed.

Right?

Barry chose that moment to flurry up the side of the building, appearing next to them less than the blink of an eye. “Hey guys. We should be good to go for tonight. Someone should check back in in a day or so to make sure everything is resettling, but there isn’t anything else for us to do tonight.” Then he took in Clark and Diana’s flabbergasted expressions and Batman’s unwavering impassivity. “What’d I miss?”

Clark pointed at the bottom of Batman’s cape and said, “Show him.”

When the fabric parted a second time, he half expected to see an empty space where the boy had been. But sure enough, there he was, tapping away at the gaming console. He peered up at Batman from the ground and asked, “Is it time to go home?”

“Not yet,” Batman replied.

“Okay.” Then the cape dropped back down again.

Barry cocked his head to the side, staring curiously at Batman. “Where did you find that kid?”

“The circus.”

“What?” Clark exclaimed, thoroughly bewildered.

“It’s not relevant,” Batman told him, as though that answered any of the questions that had been raised in the past 5 minutes.

“Is he... you son?” Diana asked cautiously.

“Hm,” Bruce replied, and Clark had no idea whether that was a confirmation or a negation. He nodded anyway.

For a moment, all four - five - of them stood in silence. Then Barry broke it.

“So... we’ll reconvene at the watchtower?”

A chorus of affirmations followed, but for an awkward moment, no one moved, everyone waiting for Batman to be the first. When it became clear he had no intentions of being the first to leave, Barry said, “...right,” and zipped off.

With no clue what else to do, Clark lifted off, rising into the air, closely followed by Diana. When they were far enough away to be sure Batman was no longer watching them, he asked her, “So was that a yes-hm or a no-hm?”

“I have no clue,” Diana replied. “We can find out during the debriefing, though.”

Clark nodded. The rest of the flight was spent in silence, broken only by Diana’s soft, melodious humming.

It took until they finally reached the watchtower for Clark to realize that it was the same tune from the video game.

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lesbianslovebts · 17 days

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I just had a very unpleasant experience while trying to take my mom out for Mother's Day. 🙃First, we visited Gramma in the hospital and brought her some gifts. Then we went for lunch. While we were waiting to be seated, a man was waiting for his wife and daughter. He wished us a happy Mother's Day. My mom said thanks and mentioned that we'd just come from wishing her mom a happy Mother's Day at the hospital. The man offered a hug, and my mom accepted. It lasted a little longer than one might expect for a stranger, but it was a kind gesture. My mom and I were seated at the hibachi grill first, and then the man, his wife, and his daughter joined us. We had a good time chatting. It was the kid's first time there, so she had a lot of fun.

Then the man started getting drunk(er). He talked nonstop, didn't make a whole lot of sense anymore, and then started taking pictures of his wife and daughter. And then us. He asked for our permission after already taking several of literally just me and my mom. He was holding his phone above his head, not looking at the screen, and repeatedly pressing the button with his thumb. He probably had several dozen of us at this point.

Then he got up, came all the way over to our end of the table, squatted by my mom, and kept babbling on about who knows what. He was whispering things that didn't make sense and breathing on my mom's food while she was trying to eat it. My mom discreetly squeezed my leg because she knew I was getting uncomfortable. His wife asked the server for the bill, and he takes out his credit card and flicked it at me as if to say he'd pick up our bill. I wasn't 100% sure that's what he intended, though, so I didn't say thanks yet so that he wouldn't feel obligated if I had indeed misunderstood.

Now, both my mom and I wore masks into the restaurant and took them off to eat. I finished my food first and put my mask back on, as I always do. However, he'd just come to sit next to me when I put it on, and that really upset him. Also, as he drunkenly scooted forward, he kneed me in the leg, which made me jump because I am autistic and don't do well with touch. That made him even more mad.

He told me that our bill was taken care of. I thanked him. My mom didn't hear him over the fan. He said it louder. I thanked him again. His wife said, "You paid for theirs, too?!" My mom clarified with me that he'd covered our bill, and I said yes. My mom did the whole, "Oh, are you sure? You didn't have to. I'm very appreciative, thank you" thing. But he was looking at me and said, "Take your mask off and say hi." I did not take my mask off and explained that I am immunocompromised. My mom confirmed I've always had a weak immune system. He asked her if I was on chemo. We said no. He asked if I had cancer. We said no, I just have a weak immune system. My mom repeated how surprised she was that he was kind enough to pay for our meal.

But at this point, he was clearly regretting it. He told me he didn't know why he did when I wouldn't take my mask off. Both my mom and his wife were trying to placate him while I stood my ground. He wanted a handshake. My mom shook his hand. He asked me if I would do an air handshake, and I did. Then he started telling me to listen to a certain frequency(?). He was saying a bunch of numbers that I'm sure are dogwhistles for something horrible. He told me to do some research, to look up Nikola Tesla. I knew for sure something was really off then. Then we was telling us not to let the Devil in, etc.

My mom reiterated our gratitude while his wife and daughter tried to usher him out, but he wouldn't move. My mom and I slipped off to the bathroom and then to my car. His wife apologized on his behalf in the parking lot when we passed her. As we got on the road, we talked about it, and I explained what some of his words meant. I'm not sure what all the numbers were about, and I don't remember them all, but that man literally paid for my meal and then told me to die because I'm not worthy of life. 🙃

Here's a lovely quote from Nikola Tesla:

#it was so uncomfortable and it took everything i had not to explode #i was preparing myself for a physical fight if he touched me without permission #llbtspost

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yourneighborhoodneighbor · 11 months

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black cat and his kittens ch2

(masterpost to my fics while ao3 is down) AO3

fic under the cut

previous chapter

Three meters away the villain stopped approaching. Police sirens could be heard getting closer, but the black-clad man didn’t seem to care. 1A was petrified. The black cat mask the villain wore both hid the man’s face and somehow stared deep into their souls. For a few seconds the teenagers didn’t dare move for fear of braking the trance they were all seemingly in. Which is why they were startled by a deep monotone voice.

“You lot are incredibly stupid. Gawking at a gang fight like that.” -the man scoffed- “Have you been taught nothing in hero school?”- he finished, making his way past the stupefied students. None of them dared talk. They’d just been insulted and lectured on their heroism, by a villain no less. For the nth time in the same half hour it was the strange figure who snapped them out of their thoughts.

“Are you not going back to your bus? Were you are supposed to have been this whole time?” he said, without wavering in his walk. The class didn’t follow the villain, instead staying put just as the police, paramedics and a few heroes arrived. Upon seeing that another one of their teachers was there they ran towards him, shaken by the villain and the whole situation in general.

As class president, Iida was unspokenly selected to be the one to speak up.

“Oboro sensei! The villain, he went that way!” he exclaimed, pointing in the direction of their bus and the museum while getting the mans attention. The teacher quickly ran to the class and checked them over. Seeing no obvious wounds or signs of fighting, he started questioning them.

“Villain? I thought this was a gang fight,” -he frowned, looking at the men currently getting arrested in the park. Stain had called the situation in, initially just as an altercation, then he’d updated to say The Clowder was there and Cat had mentioned an apparently overdue gang fight in neutral zone, hence the random park.

That got the teacher thinking, he couldn’t see any member of The Clowder or Stain, but he had heard that the latter had left the scene. Given that teaming up with vigilantes was technically illegal, they couldn’t really talk about them through the usual channels in situations like this, so he didn’t know what they had done after the fight. It wasn’t like Cat to leave a bunch of teenagers unsupervised in a situation like this, and he had to have known Stain had left. He was shaken out of his musings by his students yelling over each other.

“But there was a villain-“

“-all in black-“

“-creepy cat mask-“

“-and the knife!-“

“-with the blood-“

“-and he was all ‘you’re stupid’-“

“-to the bus-“

“-sensei, we almost died-“

Shirakumo was barely getting half of the information thrown at him, but it was enough to start piecing together what had happened. Looking at the still unconscious and badly beaten people strewn about the park, he hoped he was wrong. But whatever the case, he now knew he hadn’t been wrong about one thing: it wasn’t like Cat to leave a bunch of teenagers alone.

“Okay, alright, hang on a second!” he silenced his class. “So this person had a cat mask, was dressed in all black, talked to you, and then went on in the direction of your bus?” he clarified. His students nodded mutely, starting to question whether they had overreacted seeing as their teacher wasn’t very worried about the man in black. Said teacher sighed and seemed to relax a little, though not completely.

“Well done for not randomly following a stranger,” -the class perked up at the praise, but deflated upon hearing their sensei’s next words. “It was, however, irresponsible to not listen to your teacher when he gave you an order in this situation.” - he finished with a firm but gentle tone. And, oh no, that was his ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ face.

The class looked at the floor, ashamed at their actions now that the situation was over. Noticing that his students understood what they had done wrong, Shirakumo perked up and slapped on his usual smile.

“Well, hope you’ve learned your lesson! Lets get back to school now, yeah?” - he exclaimed, starting to herd the class back to the bus. Most went with it, but Kaminari had other thoughts.

“Wait, but what about the villain?!” - he said pointing in the general direction they were walking in now. At that, the class stopped and turned to look at their teacher again.

“Oboro sensei referred to him as a person, not a villain, and even seemed to relax a little after confirming who we were talking about. It’s possible we made a wrong assumption, and he was never a villain at all.” -It was, not that surprisingly, Momo who spoke up.

Her words brought thoughtful expressions upon her classmates faces, and they resumed walking, slightly less weary than before.

“Maybe he’s an underground hero, like Akaguro sensei!” - Kirishima spoke up just as they made it to the bus. This got the class to perk up and start murmuring excitedly, all traces of fear gone. Before they could start boarding the bus, however, a figure fell from overhead, getting everyones attention and effectively shutting them up.

A still unfamiliar but known voice spoke up.

“Close, but no.” the monotone voice said, before getting on the bus and slumping on a seat at the front.

The class gaped. That was the man from before.

“Move it” the voice said with just the slightest bit of urgency in its tone. Shirakumo quickly herded everyone back into the bus and, after ensuring they were all buckled in, got in the driver’s seat and sped towards UA. Cat was alone and hitching a ride on the bus. His tone held a hint of desperation. Stain had randomly left his students (though not unsupervised) during a fight. That could only mean one thing.

The Kittens were hurt.

And if Cat didn’t get to them soon, someone was actually going to die.

next chapter

#bnha #dadzawa #vigilante izuku #class 1a #aizawa shouta #midoriya izuku #oboro shirakumo #fanfiction #my fics #yourneighborhoodneighbor

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indeedaesies · 1 year

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4/4/23

Cultures in any working industries is stupid & ridiculous.

Everyone rushes & competes who can carry the boss’s balls the highest. Boss takes advantage of his position and literally behaves like the biggest asshole on this planet.

I just got FUCKED by the worst boss I’ve ever worked for and his work bitch, aka The Manager. They’re quite well known in the company as Clown 1 & Clown 2. All for an MC that I had received from a certified doctor as I was diagnosed with Influenza B, a contagious disease and somehow almost everyone in my timeline is getting it in Singapore now. New covid? I was still not well yet I wore my mask and dragged myself to work as I did not want my colleague to be on shift alone, KNOWING how that felt like. Only to be fucked as early as 0830 on a Sunday morning.

Could not wait till work ended? Oh that’s right - coming from “the boss” who works everyday where he comes in at 0800 and fuck any nurse who arrives later than him, has time for exercises in between consults, goes for a two hour break unbothered, goes of as early as 3 or sometimes earlier, complains and bitches when he has to do a procedure for the patients, find faults with nurses, beats the patients up, does surgery without sterilised gloves contaminating everything, sides with his entitled clients who lies to his nurses but comes up with bullshit stories for him and when nurses try to clarify and explain themselves, he takes it as talking back and will make your life hell.

Oh, & lets not forget the work bitch - comes in the latest among all the nurses, dont even bother helping anyone with any treatments in the morning, sits at the front every single shift and claim “as the manager I need eyes everywhere so being at the reception is where I need to be to know everything”, has no idea everyone at work hates her, make so much promises but delivers nothing, turn the nurses and doctors against one another, telling me “as the new manager you should not join in the bitching” but bitches the most, act like someone you can trust behind the boss’s back but immediately give a whole new charade in front of him, acts nothing like a leader, purely lazy, throws the phone to other nurses who are having their breaks when clearly she is supposed to be the one mending the phone as per a receptionist does, will literally talk shit non stop, extremely bias, bitched about a nurse and claiming she wants to terminate her just because this nurse’s mom is a kidney dialysis patient and needs to be sent for treatments, hits patients too, really not around as she is busy chain smoking her lungs out, also leaving work as soon as the boss goes home.

I swear to god, this company’s a J O K E. These two clowns tell clients their pets are safe with us. THEY ARENT, especially not with these two mother fuckers who really, I do not understand why the fuck are they in this industry. Patients are being left ALONE overnight but these two clowns will tell clients “there will always be a nurse to take care of your pet overnight”. NO, there IS NOT! Coming to 5 months, I have seen 4 patients DIE overnight as there was NO NURSE OR VET to take care of them. My heart breaks every single fucking day. I vowed never to work for a company that does this shit and fuck me I was just desperate and an idiot to think I could change this place for the better. These two mother fuckers are inhumane. I saw once the boss CHOKE a motherfucking corgi with the leash because he was fierce. I had it handled, I was already restraining the corgi and this piece of shit grabbed his leash and held him in the air. I had to yell to tell him to stop. That corgi was so afraid. I have seen this monster castrate a cat when the cat was not even down yet all because he was in a “hurry”. I cried and I prayed for the cat because I was useless, I was a nobody and that was all I could do, help the cat recover from such a traumatic experience.

I try my best every single day, to do what I do best and that is to save animal lives. Help them. Be their voice. Make them comfortable. Everything that happens in this clinic goes against everything I believed in.

On that unfateful morning, while getting yelled at by the two clowns, all that went through my head was what would happen if I were to snap? My boss told me “i paid you your full salary to do your job” and tell me clearly what the fuck have i been doing all these months then? Come in to work and open my fucking legs and sit on my ass all day? He told me “I cannot work with you anymore, you took more medical leave than I did through my career. Go find a company that will tolerate this and do not tell me I am unfair” That’s rich coming from someone who is so full of it? Like I wouldnt come to work every single day if I get to not work, pass my surgeries and procedures to my nurses and other vets, go for undisturbed breaks and leave before 4 everyday? And Ive been slogging for them and this was my very first long medical leave BECAUSE OF A VIRUS MIND YOU.

Then coming from the work bitch “You can kiss your manager post goodbye, there is no way I can handover this position to you, this is unacceptable” - well funny how this is coming from someone who is not even FIT to lead a team. Also, I have already mentally checked out the managerial post as I have bigger plans coming my way and that is to get the fuck out of this company ASAP.

All for a medical leave. They know it is illegal to terminate me as MOM will not allow it, so here they are making it unbearable for me.

Dont get me wrong, the other doctors and nurses are amazing. I am really close to them as I bothered to get to know them. I took the time to hear them. I try my best to be there for them or help them. I understood what they go through. No matter what happens outside work, I still come to work every time with a smile on my face and make it worthwhile for everyone. But these two pieces of shit - in it for other reasons. And I do not know, for the first time in my life, what to do next.

All I know is, they can try their very best to get me to quit on my own accord but too bad, I am a survivor. I have been through shits after shits to be who I am today. They want me gone, they’ll have to give me a payout. Funny how this bitch is telling me all these bullshits to put on a good show for him when she’s the one that confirmed me as a permanent staff on my second month and even increased my salary. All because of a medical leave that I was entitled too. Amazing right?

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Text

go big or go home

this was a request from @kk2016

Hi!! could you write about being pregnant with Harry but no one knew so you guys show up to the Grammys together and everyone can see your baby bump through your dress?

here is the link to the dress you’re wearing. I have no idea if this is a good option, I’m terrible with fashion :) but I thought it was cute! If you hate it, definitely just imagine something else :)

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 2.8k

It wasn't exactly hard to hide a pregnancy during a pandemic. You barely left the house, and if you did, you weren't recognized. The one time you and Harry had been spotted, you had only been 4 months along and were wearing an oversized sweater. So it was safe to say this baby was your family's little secret.

Harry knew, of course. He had been the first person to know (after Anne and the doctor who confirmed the pregnancy). You had got around to telling the rest of your families after the first trimester was over. The "inner circle," as you liked to call it, were the few people who were aware. This consisted of your parents, Anne, Gemma, Harry's band, Jeff and Glenne. That was it. Neither of you were wild on the idea of Harry's entire fanbase knowing, so you kept it under wraps as best you could.

Which, once again, wasn't hard to do. You didn't even have to go out for groceries; they could be delivered. You could buy everything for the nursery online and have it sent directly to your front doorstep. You and Harry had stayed inside for the better part of the past seven months.

However, there was one event coming up that you absolutely refused miss out on. The Grammys. At first, Harry thought you should stay home. He was worried you would get sick, and how it might affect the baby. He was worried about his fans finding out. He was worried he wouldn't win and he would have to see your disappointed face right next to him.

Of course, you were not about to let this happen. You assured him you wouldn't get within six feet of anyone besides him. You wouldn't shake anyone's hand or hug anyone. You would wear two masks, if it would make him feel safer. You would shower in hand sanitizer. You really didn't care what you had to do; you were not going to miss this night.

"Harry, I swear to God, if you keep giving me that terrified look..."

"I'm sorry!" He exclaimed, dragging a hand over his face. "I'm allowed to be a little apprehensive. This really isn't a good idea, I think it might be best if you just stay home. I just-"

"Absolutely not," you spun around, placing your hands on your hips. "I'm going to be there, in person, so I can watch my husband become a Grammy winner."

"You can watch from here!" He argued. "Plus, that way, you don't have to walk around all night. I know your feet have been bugging you, and-"

"Don't use this pregnancy against me!" You threw your head back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm not," he said, stepping closer and resting his hands on your belly. "I just want you to be safe. You and our little girl."

"I know," you brought up your hand to brush along his cheekbone. "And we will be. I'm not going to get close to anyone. I'm not going to touch anything. I'm going to have two masks on the entire night. Harry, there won't be anyone safer than me this whole night. I promise."

"I just..."

When he didn't finish his sentence, you leaned in to meet his eyes. "What are you really worried about?"

"Lots of things," he murmured. "Besides the literal plague? I'm worried about people finding out and being cruel. I don't want to deal with that, and I don't ever want you to be exposed to it. I'm worried something bad will happen, and it'll be all my fault for letting you come along. And... I'm worried you'll be disappointed if I don't win." His last sentence was so quiet you barely heard it, but it still made your heart ache.

"Baby..." You said quietly, your voice sad. You ignored his other two worries for now, because this one was clearly the most important to deal with. “You think I'll be disappointed in you?"

He nodded, looking at his hands on you instead of meeting your eyes. "Everything I do, it's all for you. You and her. What if it's not enough? What if I fail?"

"Harry," you kept your hands on his face, directing him to look at you. "I will never, ever be disappointed in you. You are amazing, in everything you do. Understand? I personally think you will be a three time Grammy winner at the end of the night-" he grinned at this- "But even if you're not, I will still be so incredibly proud of you. I will always, always be proud of you, and I will always love you. Okay?"

He didn't move, but you used your grip on his face to nod his head up and down. His smile grew bigger, and he grabbed your wrist gently. He turned his head to kiss your palm, sighing softly before he pulled away.

"I love you so much," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better. You always know exactly what to say."

You shrugged with a small smile. "I'm just amazing, I think."

"I think so too."

-----

You were sitting on the couch, dressed in your normal quarantine clothing. Hoodies. Sweatpants for him, leggings for you. Why would you get dressed up for a virtual acceptance ceremony?

You bounced excitedly as they announced "Adore You" as one of the nominations for best music video. Harry smiled when you gripped his arm.

"I don't have a good feeling about this," he admitted.

"Well, you're just a ray of sunshine today," you huffed. "Here it comes!"

"And the Grammy goes to... Beyoncé, Blue Ivy, and WizKid."

You slumped back slightly, patting his arm.

He laughed lightly at your reaction. "She deserves it."

You nodded. "Not to be mean to you, but yeah, she definitely does."

-----

As the hours wore on, you could tell Harry was getting more nervous.

"It's just- it's my first performance in a while. What if it's not good?"

"Harry," you grabbed his face again. "It will be amazing. Yes?"

Again, he didn't respond. Again, you had to physically move his head up and down in a nod. Again, this made him laugh. It was a small gesture, but you could tell it helped calm him down at least a little bit.

"There's one thing we haven't talked about," he pulled away from you, going through his drawers to find his socks.

"What's that?"

"Your outfit."

You shook your head. "I already picked my dress." You pulled out the garment bag, unzipping it to show him. It was fairly simple; you didn't want to overshadow him on his big day.

He smiled. "It's beautiful."

You nodded. "We're going to look so hot together."

"Couple of the year, I think."

"We might break the internet. Seriously. You're wearing a leather jacket with no shirt and I'm pregnant. Twitter is going to explode."

He laughed again, pulling you into his arms. "Are you sure you're ok with everyone knowing? It might not be good, people's reactions can be really-"

"You do realize they will have to find out at some time, right? You can't exactly hide a child forever."

"I know," he sighed. "I just like living in our little bubble, where it's only me and you who know."

"And your mom. And Gemma. And my parents. And Sarah, and Mitch, and Adam, and Ny, and Charlotte, and Jeff and-"

"Alright, alright, you've made your point," he chuckled. "But you know what I mean."

"I do," you nodded. "And I'm ok with people knowing. Besides, it'll blow over soon. I can just stay off socials until it does."

Harry sighed again. "I wish you didn't have to. I wish people would just..."

"Treat people with kindness," you grinned. "Maybe they don't know. Maybe you should tell them to do that sometime."

He rolled his eyes playfully, pulling away from you. "You're funny."

"Hilarious, I know."

"I have to get ready," he sighed. "One last try- are you sure you don't want to stay home?"

"Not a chance," you smiled. "Now shoo so I can get dressed."

-----

His hands were shaking as he opened the door of his dressing room. You gripped his arm tighter, trying to remind him you were here for him.

"Everything's going to be ok," you said softly.

He nodded, but his hands still shook.

"I'll be right offstage, you can look at me if you get nervous," you reminded him. "This might not be the time, but I'm, like, really excited to see you perform."

"Yeah?" He gave a small smile.

You nodded. "It's been a while since I've been able to see that. And you look... very nice in this outfit."

"Very nice, huh?" He laughed. "What a compliment."

"I do have a way with words," you grinned.

"Always," he leaned his forehead against yours. "Now what was it you said earlier? Shoo, so I can get dressed."

"I'll be just offstage," you reminded him one last time, blowing him a kiss as you stepped out of the room.

-----

You couldn't take your eyes off him for the entire performance. He was worried for no reason, because he was incredible. He was born to do this, you could tell.

You cheered louder than anyone else when he finished, earning a cheeky smile from him. As soon as he could get away, he ran over to you and enveloped you in his arms.

"I told you you'd be amazing," you whispered.

He nodded, wearing the biggest smile you'd seen in days. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"I didn't do anything," you laughed.

"No, I couldn't have done it without your moral support," he clarified.

"Right, moral support," you nodded seriously before breaking into a smile again. "But really, that was amazing. You're perfect."

"That's all you, love," he returned the compliment, turning back around to watch Billie performing. He kept his arm around you, though. The camera panned to you a few times during the different performances, and you knew by this point the viewers at home had seen your bump. Your dress wasn't very tight fitting, but you were almost 8 months along. You were sure social media was exploding by now.

You didn't have to worry about that though, not yet at least. You had a few more hours of calm.

-----

Harry's nerves had apparently returned once you got to the table. His hand was gripping yours even tighter than before and his leg bounced constantly. You placed your hand on his thigh, trying to calm his frantic movements. His eyes went to yours, and you could tell he was smiling under his mask.

"It will be fine," you reminded him. "Everything will be ok. You already did the hard part, remember?"

He nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Right. And soon, we can go home, and sit on the couch, and eat ice cream."

"Exactly," you smiled. "And I can get back in my leggings and not get dressed again for the next 6 months."

He laughed at this, and his grip on your hand loosened. He still kept hold of you, but you could tell he wasn't so nervous anymore.

"Ok, shh, they're announcing it now," you said excitedly.

Harry looked down, apparently seized with nerves again.

"And the Grammy goes to... Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles."

His eyes went wide, and your face split into a giant grin. He reached his arm out to grab yours, almost like he didn't believe what had just happened.

He pulled his mask off, standing up. He took your hand, gesturing for you to stand too, so of course you obliged. He pulled you against him, and you could feel how fast his heart was beating. When he pulled away, you smiled up at him.

"I knew you would win," you said softly, still beaming. "Now go!" You gave his shoulder a gentle push toward the stage.

"Wow, um..." He blew out a breath, looking at you before he spoke again. "To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much. This was the first song we wrote after my first album came out, during a day off in Nashville, and I just want to say thanks to Tom, Tyler, Mitch, and everyone... Rob Stringer, and everyone at Colombia, my manager Jeffery, who has always nudged me to be better and never pushed me, thank you so much. I feel very grateful to be here, thank you. All of these songs are fucking massive, so thank you so much, I feel very honored to be here among all of you, so thank you so much. And I want to say-" he looked at you again, a smile of adoration crossing his face. "Most importantly, thank you to my wife. Y/N, I love you more than anything else on this planet, and I couldn't have done any of this without you. You make it all possible, so... thank you to the light of my life, and of course our daughter." His eyes went wide at the last sentence, like he hadn't planned to say that. He looked around nervously before he quickly made his way back to his seat.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say that, it slipped out-"

You shook your head, taking his hand. "It's ok, don't worry about it," you smiled. "I'm so proud of you."

He put his mask back on, but it didn't hide the happiness on his face.

-----

Once everything was over and you had both climbed into the car to go home, it seemed to really hit him.

"I won a Grammy," he said in disbelief, looking down at the award in his hands.

"You won a Grammy," you repeated with a big smile on your face. "Grammy winner Harry Styles."

"Yeah," he looked back up at you, his eyes still wide. "That's... insane."

You nodded. "And very impressive. And I'm so proud of you."

He smiled, scooting closer so he could put his arm around you. "Grammy winner Harry Styles... and his amazing wife."

"And their amazing daughter," you added, placing his other hand over your stomach. "Feel that? She's been kicking all night. She's excited for you."

He grinned, before his face dropped back into one of concern. "Are you sure you're ok with what I said? I really didn't mean to, I just got caught up, it-"

"Baby," you stopped him. "I promise, it's ok. Besides, everyone knew the minute I walked in there."

"Right," he nodded. "Has your phone been blowing up?"

You shrugged. "I turned it off. Should we check?"

"I'm a little nervous," he admitted.

"I'm gonna do it." You fished your phone out of your purse, eyes widening when you saw how many notifications you had. From every possible app. Congratulations texts, excited DMs, missed calls, and then there were the mentions. There were well over a hundred on your lockscreen alone.

You cleared all of them, deciding to open Twitter and see how bad it was. You were very pleasantly surprised.

"harry's daughter" was #1 on the trending page, and "harry in leather" was right behind it. Clicking on the first one, you found several GIFs of the terrified look on Harry's face when he accidentally made the announcement. You smiled, but scrolled further. Hundreds of fans were typing in all caps, apparently very excited that Harry was going to be a father.

"You're right, we broke the internet," he grinned, looking through his own timeline. "I've seen my bare chest more in the last five minutes than my entire life before this."

"What a power couple we are," you laughed. "We got the top two trending spots."

"What an accomplishment," he joked.

You scrolled for a few more minutes, still yet to see a negative message. "You were worried for nothing, babe. They're all very excited for us."

"I see that," he grinned. "They've also named our baby for us, and somehow know her zodiac sign."

"Oh, wonderful," you laughed. "But really, it could have been worse."

"Definitely," he nodded. "Well, that's one way to announce a pregnancy. On live TV in front of the entire nation."

"Yeah, you know, go big or go home."

"Exactly."

Closing Twitter, you moved on to Instagram. You gasped when you saw the first picture on your feed. "Sarah posted her bump! Now we can be baby buddies in public, not just in secret."

Harry smiled, turning off his phone and pulling you closer to him.

"omg, baby buddies :)" you commented. Within seconds, Sarah had liked the comment and replied with "they will be best friends😊"

With that, you turned off your own device and leaned into his side. "What a good night. Aren't you glad I came with you?"

"I am," he admitted. "Very glad. Thanks for being stubborn."

"Always."

#harry styles #harry fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #dad!harry #one direction #one direction fanfiction #pregnancy

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alyssadeliv · 3 years

Text

The Forgotten One

First Previous

Chapter 9

For the first time after so long, Marianne finally felt home. Even as she bled on top of a dark building, she did not care. As long as she kept on holding him everything would be alright. She could feel his tear on her neck, and she could imagine he felt hers on his. It was strange, she dreamed of this moment more times she could count, but not one of her imaginary scenes did she feel this immense happiness in her soul. It was as if she was finally whole. He held her with such force she was sure she would suffocate, but she kept quiet, just enjoying the warmth of his body on hers. It was only after she started feeling dizzy that she detached him from her.

He was different, more mature. The years only served to enhance his beauty. It didn't matter that he was wearing a mask, she would recognize him everywhere, but she still longed to be able to see his green eyes again. No one said a word, using their body language to determine what to do next. It was Damian that decided to take the lead.

He stood up and helped his sister on her feet. He kept supporting her, knowing that the wound he inflicted on her must be taking some toll on her body after their intense fight. She was barely standing on her own, having lost too much blood. His Robin costume was coated in red, and that left a bad taste on his mouth. With her secure at his side, he turned to his Father. There was so much he needed to tell him, years of feelings he trapped inside of him could finally be let loose. But first, he had to make sure he still trusted him.

“I promise to explain once we get to the cave… but she needs help.” He pleaded. He wasn’t sure if it was the tone of his voice or the fact that his family just caught him in his most vulnerable moment, but they agreed.

Damian carried her to the Batmobile, Todd, and Grayson trailing after him. Batman led the team in silence. Meticulously thinking about the connection of his youngest son with the passed-out assassin. She wore League attire, but it was a strange symbol on her clothes that made him wary. He remembered seeing that symbol in the clothes of a dead Gabriel Agreste early this week, and there was no doubt that they had some kind of connection.

He wanted to interrogate her as soon as possible, but he would wait until Damian gave his explanation as to why he acted in such a way that night. They obviously knew each other, so they must have met when his son was still in the care of his mother. That information did little to calm his worried mind.

It was a unanimous decision that petrol was canceled that night. So they all entered the Batmobile and made their way to the Cave. They didn’t have to worry about their identities, as the girl was falling in and out of consciousness during their short ride.

Dick kept a close eye on the girl in Damian’s arms. Her face was nested carefully in his brother's neck, keeping him from being able to identify her face. Her blood coated the interior of the car, and only the fact that the Batarang still impaled at her side was helping to stop the bleeding from totally draining the girl kept him somewhat calm.

Jason was the only one that wasn’t in the car, having opted to use his bike, he went ahead and notified Alfred that they would need his assistance, with the injured girl.

By now Damian knew that all his family was notified of this incident, and would most likely be waiting for them to return. He could only hope that his father would hear him first. He wasn’t worried about his sister, he knew she would be alright. After years of training with her, he knew she bled easily, but was stronger and healed faster than most.

When they arrived at the Cave, Damian immediately laid her in one of the gurneys. But before he allowed Alfred to assess her wound he removed the weapon. He heard the shouts of indignation coming from Grayson but ignored him.

He knew what they must be thinking, that his weapon was the only thing keeping her from bleeding out, but what they didn’t know was that Marianne’s body reacted faster when she was in danger of dying. So it came to no surprise to him when her wound started to heal itself. What started him was the glow that came with it. That was new.

“She will be fine. Just need a couple of hours to recharge her energy” Damian clarified.

"She's Meta…” Dick whispered, eying Bruce carefully. It was no secret that the man did not normally trust meta-humans very easily. His expression was hard, and everyone could tell his patience had come to an end.

“Explain.” He demanded.

“I do not know how to start…” From his body language, they could see he was nervous. He ran his fingers through his hair, something he never did.

“From the start would be great!” Jason tried to lighten the mood. He hadn’t moved from his sitting position on the round table. Barbara and Tim were sitting with him, both anxious to understand the situation. He wanted to go see this mysterious girl, but for the sake of his family, he stayed put, for now.

“Father… You might want to sit for this…”

Bruce nodded. And they all sat. Damian sat in front of his father, with Grayson and Todd at his sides, while Gordon and Drake sat by Todd’s side. No one dared to sit close to Bruce, fearing his reaction.

“Do you remember how I was conceived?” Damian started, not meeting his father’s eyes, and ignoring the snickering coming from his brothers. He knew this was a sore subject, but he needed to approach the subject somehow.

“It was of extreme importance that Mother produced a male heir for Grandfather. But what you do not know is that I was not the firstborn” This causes everyone to widen their eyes in horror.

Bruce pales but otherwise keeps quiet.

“I explained before how I was raised in an artificial womb through my development stages. And there is a reason for that... Before me, Mother was pregnant, the traditional way, but a female was born. She was born” He points to the direction of the girl resting behind the curtains of the medical bay.

“How… When…” Bruce is at a loss of words. When Talia appeared two years ago with his secret child in tow he felt only despair first. He had lost so much of his son’s childhood. It took him so long to accept that he had what it took to care for his blood child the same way he cared for his wards.

“She was born six years before me…” Damian explains. “Mother never told me anything about that, only that she did it to appease her father.”

“Wait, wait, wait! So you're telling me that the scary kid we just rescued is B’s long-lost daughter? Why are we only hearing of this now?” Jason as always wasn't able to keep quiet anymore.

Damian lowers his head and covers his eyes with his now gloveless hands. Sensing his distress Jason allows him to recompose himself.

“She was dead… Or I thought she had died. In the same attack that made Mother bring me to live here.” They could see that it was hard for him to talk about that day “Except she did not die!” He exclaimed in anger, rising from his seat.

“There’s where you're wrong.” The melodious voice attracts their attention. She stands just a couple of steps apart from where they are sitting. But no one heard her coming. She wears green, but the cape that once covered her hair is lowered, and they could clearly see her long black hair left loose. She had blue eyes and was rapidly analyzing every single one of them until her eyes landed on Bruce. Her father. Damian could see the insecurity in her, so he calmed himself, and went to her. “I did die that day. It was only thanks to Tikki that I am alive now” And with that, she knew her brother would understand. After years of living with her, she taught him a little about the Order.

“Father…” Damian tries.

Bruce stands up. And goes in their direction. He stops just a couple of steps from his children. His children.

“This is Marianne, your daughter.”

So there we are! Another chapter. Do you love it? Hate it? Please tell me I love to read your opinions!

I feel like I must warn you all that I only planned to have one more chapter on this story, but after some consideration, it came to me the idea of making a Part Two of this story. Would that be something you all be interested in? Let me know!

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saiilorstars · 3 years

Text

Halloweentown (One-shot)

/ Fairy Tale Memoir Masterlist /

Fandom: Doctor Who/ Pairing: 9th-13th Doctor x OFC

Summary: While her mother is asleep, Aurora gets to have some bonding time with her father. The Doctor is amazed to see his daughter’s work.

Author’s Note: This is part of a one-shot/AU companion story to my OC Avalon Reynolds’ fics. Her masterlist can be found here [x].

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles

It was ridiculous that she had lost the Heist this time around, but Avalon thought it was even more ridiculous that her grandparents really thought she would go as Thing 2 for Halloween. She had her own plans. She was a woman of her word and she would dress up as Thing 2 the next three times they went out on a trip. But today was Halloween. She was not going to ruin her favorite holiday.

"The Doctor promised me there's an entire planet that's actually called Halloweentown!" Avalon exclaimed as she came down the stairs in the console room. "Everybody dresses up every day! I can't wait to go there!"

The Doctor, Amy and Rory were already in the room, waiting solely for Avalon who was the last to change into her costume.

"Wait, where's your costume?" Amy gestured to Avalon's very black outfit. "I thought this was your favorite holiday?"

Avalon snorted at the sight. "Really, Amy? You're in a black suit right now."

"Yes, as Catwoman!" Amy gestured to her mask over her head with the signature cat ears. "People will know what I am! And Rory, of course." Because Rory was dressed up as Batman.

"These people are aliens, guys," Avalon reminded, "Would they really know who you were?"

Amy's and Rory's mouth simultaneously opened up but when the idea struck them, they looked over at the Doctor for some clarification.

"Halloweentown's customs are pretty close to that of Earth's," the Doctor shrugged, "Maybe they will. But it'll be fun to discover that, don't you think?"

"Yeah, yeah, so where's the costumes, then?" Amy gestured between the Doctor and Avalon.

"He didn't like his costume," Avalon said before the Doctor could even open his mouth. "I picked it out with great care and he said no." She rolled her eyes, still every much upset about the matter.

"You mean you wanted me to wear the old black leather jacket my 9th incarnation wore," the Doctor crossed his arms, rolling his own eyes. He was just as upset as his wife but for different reasons.

"Yeah, what's the problem with that?"

"I don't like it!"

"But it's your jacket! It was you who wore it! I think it's hot!"

"You mean him?"

Avalon flapped her arms over her head. "You mean you! Because he is you! I think he's hot so you're hot!"

"I'm getting a headache," Amy muttered to Rory as she rubbed the side of her head.

"Besides, it would've gone great with my costume!" Avalon exclaimed.

"What's your costume, Ava?" asked Rory. "Cos I don't quite get it."

Avalon wore a black, button-down shirt with a black leather jacket over it. She matched with black pants and a pair of black combat boots. There was a small police badge on her waistband.

Avalon groaned. "Really? After the whole Heist? I'm Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn-99!" She folded her arms and did the signature scowl that her favorite character typically did. "I just couldn't wear the black curly wig because my own hair could never fit under that." She pulled one of her very bright ginger curls.

"Really? I thought you would've gone as Aurora," Amy said, "Or Merida. I don't know, a princess."

"I love those costumes," Avalon clarified, "But I've already gone as them before so I thought I should do something different this time. Rosa's my favorite character on the show. She rides a motorcycle but the TARDIS wouldn't give me one. Still, I just needed my husband to match with me."

"I'm not wearing the jacket," the Doctor declared. What was wrong with his jacket anyways? It was tweed! Who didn't like tweed?

Avalon scowled at him. "You're that jealous of yourself?"

The Doctor said nothing. He turned his head away from Avalon.

Avalon could've argued the matter for the rest of the night but since she was far more interested in seeing Halloweentown, she decided to let it go.

The Doctor was all the more happy to forget about the terrible argument. He was quick to land the TARDIS down on the planet of Halloweentown. Very quickly, the travelers were awed by the place.

Everything was decorated for Halloween, except that they weren't holiday decorations but the regular style of the planet instead. More than that, there were creatures that resembled a lot of Earth's typical Halloween animals. Wolves walking on two legs, big and small fairies zooming above them, humanoids with suspicious long canine teeth, - they were all walking along like nothing. Avalon swore she even saw a ghost but her grandparents were very much against the idea.

It didn't matter. Soon, Avalon found something way better and she wanted it.

"Absolutely not," Rory was right behind his granddaughter, shaking his head in utter disapproval.

The shiny black motorcycle the vendor was trying to sell to Avalon just called her name. Avalon couldn't walk away.

"You rode one!" She accused Rory. "In the middle of Nazi Germany!"

"On adrenaline! You're not getting a motorcycle!"

Avalon looked around and saw the Doctor and Amy coming towards them. She hurried over to her husband and grabbed his hand to drag him quicker to the vendor. "I found something that I need!"

The Doctor caught on fast what that something was and actually felt his stomach churn at the idea of his wife driving a motorcycle. "I mean...do you really need that, Ava?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "It would complete my costume! Rosa has a motorcycle and I'm not going to lie and say I wouldn't mind having one for myself."

"No way," Amy shook her head. "You are so impulsive that you would crash into the first street pole here."

Avalon dismissed her grandmother with a wave. "I'm getting it!"

"No you're not!" went both Amy and Rory.

"Doctor, tell her she can't," Rory urgently looked at the Time Lord for his help. "Even you know that would be completely mad!"

The Doctor truly hated his position right now. He would very much rather face a dalek then speak on this matter. Avalon folded her arms and waited for him to start talking. She didn't look too happy.

"I mean..."

"You know how to ride one," Avalon said suddenly, "I've seen your pictures. I don't know where the motorycles are in the TARDIS but I know you have one."

The Doctor smiled awkwardly. "I was young, Ava. Did things I shouldn't."

"Yeah but no offence, sweets, you're kind of an idiot..."

"Hey!" the Doctor frowned.

"And I love you with all my heart because of that quality," Avalon put on her best smile for him. "Really, it makes you that much more adorable in my eyes. But, I'm getting this motorcycle."

"Except I don't think it's a good idea..." the Doctor absolutely hated he had to say that out loud because now Avalon was looking at him with her doom face. "I love you, don't get me wrong — you're my Ava! — but I think a motorcycle might cause some problems later on."

"Why?" Avalon made a show to wait to hear these perfect reasons she supposed the Doctor thought he had.

"Well, uh..." the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, his mind working at light-speed to answer this carefully and correctly, "See I — the thing is — the motorcycle looks — and I don't think you'd—"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Amy clapped a hand over the Time Lord's mouth and took over. "You would crash, Avalon! It would be chaotic! You're chaotic enough without the tools!" Amy then glanced at Rory who'd been nodding in agreement at her every word. "Did I get everything?"

Avalon huffed.

"Yeah, I think so," Rory said.

Avalon reached over to pull Amy's hand off the Doctor's mouth. "So I bet you agree with everything she just said?"

The Doctor apologetically smiled at his wife. "I do love you, Ava..."

She groaned. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Always! So long as you're safe!" The Doctor took Avalon by a hug and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I think there's got to be something else on this planet you might like. Let's go and find it, eh? Anything else you want."

Avalon looked like she could murder but all she said was 'okay' and allowed the Doctor to take her away. He looked beyond happy to have her easily agree with him and relieved too. She almost felt sorry when she slipped away from the group with the excuse she had to use the restroom.

She definitely laughed carefree, however, when she rode on her brand new motorcycle past them. "SUCKERS!" She cackled.

The Doctor openly gaped at his wife while Amy and Rory collectively called after their granddaughter.

"AVALON!"

"GET BACK HERE, AVALON!"

The Doctor didn't bother to shout after Avalon. He knew better than to. He turned around and headed for to the TARDIS instead. He thought that a certain black leather jacket would be more likely to stop Avalon. I hate that guy, the Doctor grumbled on his way into the TARDIS.

A/N:

So @serahsanguine, I know this was short but I hoped you like it!

#ocappreciation #ocfairygodmother #fd: doctor who #doctor who #11th doctor #dw #dw fics #dw imagines #11th doctor imagines #doctor who imagines #11th doctor fics #oc: Avalon Reynolds #fic: fairy tale memoirs

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anjuschiffer · 3 years

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It’s finally the New Year! What other way to celebrate than to write for Day 1 of @timari-month-event New Years Day? :D

Day 1 : New Years Day

—

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

—

AO3

Cass poked her head through the common room’s doorway, surprised to see that Dick had managed to have everyone over at his apartment.

To be honest, Cass thought he wouldn’t be able to get everyone under one roof. Then again, this was Dick, everyone’s favorite person...well, almost everyone’s.

“Cass, so that's where you’ve been.” Kate said from behind her, Cass turning to see her ‘aunt.’ “This is your first time, isn’t it? Celebrating New Years, that is.” Cass nodded at that.

She honestly didn’t know what to think about this “New Years” celebration Dick wanted everyone to be a part of, how excited he was to be able to greet the new year as a family.

It was just another event that only marked the end of a year and the beginning of another. Why celebrate it?

Cass snapped from her thoughts when Kate chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright Cass. Don’t think too hard about it. Just enjoy yourself. Perhaps you’ll understand then.”

Cass nodded, watching as Kate walked away to join the others.

She watched as she sat diagonally from Bruce, Selina and Alfred, the quartet of adults observing the other “supposed” adults and children.

“Grapes? Why would you wish using grapes? They don’t hold any magical power.” Damian asked as Dick handed him a bowl with 12 grapes in jt.

“Good question. Why grapes?” Duke asked no one, proceeding to just eat them. “Why not star fruit?”

“I-I actually don’t know.” Dick shyly confesses, deciding to just leave the grapes at the center of the coffee table for people to just grab.

“It actually started as an advertising tactic for farmers to sell their grape harvests in the 19 century in Spain.” Jason said, eyeing his own bowl of 12 grapes. “Later on in the early 20th century, the grapes symbolize good luck, so the people started to eat them after the start of a New Year in hopes of having good luck.”

“In other words, wishful thinking and superstition?” Stephanie asked.

“Yup.” Jason munched on a few grapes. “ there are a few people who additionally do it to ward off evil.”

“So just superstition.” Duke clarifies. “What a waste of good grapes.”

“-can believe it! There’s only five minutes left until the new year!” The woman on the television screen squealed, capturing everyone's attention. The screen then switched cameras to show the packed street of Times Square, hundreds -if not thousands- of people waving at the camera as it panned around them.

“Does everyone have their glass of champagne?” Dick asked, watching as everyone lifted their glass. “Babs, I thought you didn’t drink?”

“And neither does Tim, Damian, Duke and Steph and yet you still gave them one.” Dick started to panic at that.

After all, they’re still minors, even if by a few months away from being either 21 or 18.

“Damian, Duke, Steph, Tim! I need those- wait. Where is Tim?” Dick asked.

“Wait, he was invited?” Jason asked.

“Of course I did! He’s part of the-“

“Three minutes left!”

“Well, too late to ask him to join us. Well just have to greet the new year without him.” Steph said.

“His lost.” Damian added, keeping a grin to himself.

“One minute!”

“FaceTime?” Dick asked, the family ignoring him as they intently watched the woman on the screen beginning to count down.

Cass watched Dick panic around while the rest of the family continued to watch the television.

She noticed Bruce and Selina signal her to come closer, which she did, the two of them pulling her to sit in between them.

Cass fidgeted a bit, adjusting to the affection.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!”

“Are we really-“

“Five! Four! Three!

Two!

One!

Happy New Year!” The lady announced, hugging her news partner.

“Happy New Year.” The family said in unison, lifting their glasses in sync before everyone took a sip. Of course, a few idiots chugged it down.

Or at least attempted to.

As soon as Jason had chugged half of his champagne, he sputtered about, Babs chuckling in the back while Duke and Steph tried to help him.

“Todd. How dare you waste-“

“Replacement.” He wheezed out, pointing to the screen. “He’s-“ he then began to cough.

Everyone turned to look at the screen wondering what he meant because there on the screen were just couples kissing. Tim wasn’t-

“Well you look at that.” Selina said with a grin.

“Is he serious?” Duke asked, burying his face into his hands.

“Apparently so.” Steph grinned.

There, the farthest corner of the screen was Tim, or rather, Red Robin kissing a girl who wore a hoodie that resembled Red Robin’s. Midnight hair peeled from out of the hood and she wore a red domino mask.

“Did anyone know he was going to do this?” Kate asked. Everyone turned to Alfred.

“Master Tim only told me he was visiting his girlfriend. He never told me he was going to pull this stunt.” Alfred took a sip of his tea. “But we should congratulate the chap. He may not be celebrating with us, but at least he’s celebrating the New Year with someone he loves.”

-How it happened-

Tim was double checking his list, making sure he had everything before heading downstairs.

Despite Dick wanting everyone over at his apartment to spend New Years Eve together, Tim already had plans, plans he had arranged weeks prior.

“Master Tim. Are you heading out?” Alfred asked him, Tim taken aback by Alfred’s...lack of a suit. “Master Tim?”

“Sorry Alfred. It’s just...I’ve never seen you out of a suit so...it suits you.” Was all Tim was able to say. Instead of his tidy and fitted butler suit, Alfred was wearing a very...grandfatherly outfit.

White shirt, gray cardigan, brown jacket and a dark gray pair of slacks. A pair of loafers and a flat cap sealed the deal.

“Well, Miss Marinette gifted me this jacket this Christmas. I thought I would wear it for this occasion. The inner pocket is my favorite detail.”

Alfred showed Tim the inner pocket, the pocket having different swirl embroidery. But upon a closer inspection, each different colored thread was a different family member’s name. Tim’s name was embroidered in a steel blue.

“What a very Marinette thing for her to do.” Tim said with a smile, beaming at her talent. That’s when he remembered about where he was heading. He took out his phone and fought a scowl when he realized he was running behind schedule.

“Judging by your scowl, I’m guessing you’re late to where you’re heading to.”

“I am a bit behind schedule. But I’ll manage.” Tim said, shifting the bag on his shoulder. He didn’t know why, but something told him to say it. “I’m going to New York to meet up with Marinette. We've been planning this for a few months and thought we should meet up for New Year’s Eve. We’ve got a few places in mind and we’re hoping everything-“

“It’s going to be fine.” Alfred assures Tim, not once mentioning his rambling. “Now go. You wouldn’t want to make Miss Marinette wait any longer, now would you?”

Tim nodded, saying goodbye to Alfred and running to catch the nearest cab to get to the nearest bus to take him to New York.

After a two hour trip, Tim stood by an odd mechanism trapped inside an acrylic case.

He wanted to make sure where he was headed before leaving the 42 St Port Authority. After all, he had only been to Times Square a few times in his life.

“Tim!” Marinette called out, Tim looking up from his phone to see Marinette running up to him.

A grin grew on his face as he caught Marinette, twirling her.

“Hey. Aren’t you half an hour early?”

“Maybe you're just late.” Marinette grinned.

Tim sighed at the Into the Spiderverse reference until he noticed her outfit.

She was wearing a red dress, the most obvious piece, but it was her wrap cape that caught his attention. The front piece was red in color while the rest of the cape was black. But it was the hidden accents of gold and the single golden robin crest at the center that intrigued him the most.

“Is that-“

“A Red Robin inspired outfit?” Marinette grinned. “Yes, yes it is. After all,” Marinette leaned over Tim’s ear. “He’s my favorite.” She purred, fighting off a giggle when she saw Tim’s face red from ear to ear.

“We should be on our way.” Tim managed to say, leading Marinette out the building and onto Edge Tower.

—

The duo went on their mini date at Edge Tower, Marinette not surprised when she found out that Tim rented out the entire place for the hour.

Marinette ran up to the edge of the balcony, not believing how high up they were. While Ladybug was able to get up on high places like this with ease, it was a whole different experience as Marinette.

She leaned into the cold air, a smile across her face as the wind blew.

“You’d think you’d get used to things like this.” Tim said, as if reading her mind, leaning against the rail right next to her.

“But no matter how many times you see the same view, it’s always breathtaking.” Marinette replied, turning to face him.

“Just like you are.” Tim enjoyed the way Marinette flushed red, causing him to chuckle. He tucked a loose hair strand behind her ear. “How about we take a picture to remember this?”

And so they did.

—

The thing with it being New Years Eve, all the places were packed, even otherwise empty food courts and the edge of the Hudson River.

After a while, the two ended up heading back to Times Square, a decision they soon regretted.

They ended up being caught in the swarm of people who had been camping in the area for a day...or two...or three…

One of them thought they had already been there and allowed them to slip through and by the time the duo realized that they were being pushed further deeper into the area, it was too late for them to get out. More people started to gather around them, the area packed to the brim with New Yorkers and tourists alike.

Seeing as they were stuck there, Marinette and Tim decided to make the best of it and went along with the crowd, waiting for hours until a few minutes were left before the start of the new year.

“Hey Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m...I’m kinda glad we decided to meet here today.”

“So do I. Although, I do feel guilty for not telling Dick that I wasn’t going to be able accept his invitation to spend the eve with him and the rest of the family.” Tim confessed, Marinette giving his hand a squeeze.

They remained like that for a while before Tim turned to her.

“Marinette, there’s something I have to say.”

“What is it?”

“I just wanted to say, thank you. Thank you for being by my side this year.” He heard someone say that there were three minutes left. He cupped her face between his hands. “Thank you for being part of my life.”

As Tim leaned forward, Marinette stopped him, Tim wondering if he did something wrong. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Tim. I think you’re forgetting something.” Marinette said, placing a domino mask over his eyes and one on herself. “There. Now the press won’t be bothering you tomorrow.”

“The press? Why-“

“Tim. How did you forget that you're the CEO of Wayne Enterprise? Seriously, how can you forget that?” Marinette huffed.

It was then that the two realized that the crowd had begun to count down.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

“Should we pick up where we left off?” Marinette asked, letting out a yelp when Tim brought her closer to him.

“Six! Five ! Four!”

“Let’s.” Tim’s said, leaning forward towards Marinette.

“Two!

One!”

Their lips met.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

#maribat #timari january 2021 #timari #timari month

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onehyperboi · 4 years

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Supernova youtuber/streamer au that nobody asked for but has been living rent free in my mind for ages

Kid

Has 3 channels and one streaming account first two channels are make up and nail channels and the 3rd is timelapses of him building machines.

His streaming channel is only used on the weekends for gaming.

Collabs with Killer all the fucking time and it still took his fans ages to work out that the two lived together and have been for the last 8 years.

"And they were roommates" jokes are very popular in his fandom.

There is a significant divide in his fanbase over if his hair is naturally that red or not, he swears it is but nobody is sure

Very popular for his no shits attitude about wearing makeup as a guy as well for his tips on doing your nails with only one arm.

Used to collab with Apoo and Hawkins but drama caused him to stop.

Unspoken tension with Law, he literally never talks about it but you can just tell it's there. It weird because as far as each fanbase knows they've never interacted before

Killer

A cooking channel and a streaming channel.

On his cooking channel the camera is focused just below his face or just on his hands depending on the shot taken

Fandom is very thirsty, naturally

Streaming channel he wears the mask on a face cam.

Once did a live QnA instead of gaming where he stated that he did in fact wear the mask all the time.

Kid had to clarify that Killer wore a variety of masks not just the blue one.

When asked if he ate with it on he got up and came back with instant noodles and ate them through the holes.

Sometimes collabs with sanji or zoro

His pet ferret once made a cameo on stream and the chat lost it

Jewelry Bonney

Mukbang queen

Knows Kid and Killer from highschool

Tells embarrassing stories about them all the time

When she isn't eating shes vlogging

Collabs with Killer from time to time but he mostly just provides her food

Zoro

His channel is whatever he wants at whatever time

Collabs with sanji a lot but is always fighting with him in the collabs

Most of his videos are demonetized but doesn't care

Collabs with most of the other straw hats at different points

A running joke in his fanbase is drawing him in front of a compass

He doesn't get it

Luffy

Streaming channel and a regular one

Like zoro it's a mix of whatever

Mainly does stunt stuff

Or his hospital trips

Collabs with Law a lot but not because Law wants to but because he is in the hospital he works in

Wants to collab with Kid but Kid is resistant

Also collabs with the other strawhats

Streams QnA every sunday

Drake

Ever see a man so excited and cute while talking about dinosaurs? No? Well now you have

Talks so much about dinosaur bones and what each meant as well as how each dinosaur lived

Gets really excited about new discoveries about fossils

Coby joins him often

Occasionally collabs with Robin

Law

Doctor channel where he goes over medical misinformation presented in shows

Will not talk about the tension between him and Kid but whenever hes brought up he gets really silent and stares into the camera for 30 seconds

Unwillingly collabs with Luffy, Willingly collabs with chopper

Is nicknamed Dr. Heartstealer by his fanbase

It's all over his merch now

Fandom is also very thirsty

Has had various doctors from all over on his channel

Has a separate streaming account where he plays minecraft

Sometimes plays surgical games on the main channel and rates how accurate they are

Hawkins

Occult channel

Weirdly collabs with Apoo most of the time

Uncany ability to predict things

Goes over occult history and has collabed with drake once to go over how dinosaur bones have influenced myths of the past

"Please stop trying to curse the moon."

Apoo

Music channel

Started with remixes and covers but eventually progressed to making his own stuff

The drama with Kid is all over his channel and he seems to have made it a habit to occasionally try and provoke a reaction

It hasn't worked yet

Collabs with Hawkins and also made the music for his channel

Urouge

Mountain climbing Vlogs

Seriously this dude has climbed most of the mountain in the world

Also he does alcohol reviews including taste and content

He and zoro have a mutual agreement over most drinks

Bege

Family Vlogs and Gun reviews

This mans life is just, on YouTube

Pez is a constant presence and everyone in his fanbase loves him

His whole channel is pretty much "I love my wife and son very much also heres how to shoot and load a gun properly, dont forget to wear proper ear protection"

One video is Chiffon taking over the channel that day and she shows what bege does in the house and if anyone notices the suspicious amount of gang looking men in the place nobody comments on it

#one piece #trafalgar law #eustass kid #x drake #11 supernovas #monky d luffy #roronoa zoro #capone bege #mad monk Urouge #one piece killer #scratchman apoo #basil hawkins #jewelry bonney #youtuber au #dbhdevhsgeeheh #long post

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youngerdrgrey · 3 years

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the only way to get over someone... // a Batwoman fic

About: SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON TWO FINALE / post-2x18 / season two finale — After the s2 finale, Ryan tries to be a good 'friend' to Sophie, but it does not go the way she planned (feat. an extended cut of the similar tastes in conversation).

Notes: Don’t read if you haven’t seen the finale. This picks up at the end of the Kate and Ryan scene, then continues on from there because my WildMoore heart wanted to. Under the cut because spoilers + read on ao3

Kate Kane is leaving, and Ryan might need some time to fully process that. Kate’s opposite her, comfortably seated on the corner of their desk. The beer bottle clinks against the edge of it as Kate covers her bases. The suit’s staying with Ryan.

Kate starts, “As for Mary and Luke….”

Ryan jumps in with a smile. “They are my family, and I am going to take care of them.” No questions asked. Though, with Luke and his new super suit, she will definitely have help in keeping their family safe.

“Thank you.” Kate smiles back at Ryan. “And Sophie?”

Not family. Not in the traditional sense, at least. She’s family-adjacent at best. She’s… she’s Sophie, the same person who ruined Ryan’s life and relationship multiple times, and the same person who helped Ryan build them both back up.

Ryan quirks her head from side to side. “Can I get back to you on that?” The repetition gets another grin out of Kate. Worry still shines in Kate’s eyes though. Ryan admits, “She’s saved me a lot more than she’s hurt me, so, I guess I can look out for her too.”

Kate sighs in relief. “Good. She’ll need it. She’s not invincible, Ryan. Mary told me all about the two of you going back and forth over Cluemaster. She’s tough, but Sophie’s a lot more fragile than she seems.”

Ryan has seen a bit of that. Sophie does her best to hide the cracks in her armor, but Coryana in particular stripped down a layer. Her fear for Jordan took another, even her concern for Ryan in these last few days wore at it. “And you’re about to break her heart.”

Kate nods. She seems so sure that looking for Bruce is the right move. Maybe that’s what a good trip of Snake Bite can offer: clarity. Not that Ryan’s interested in joining Kate on that other side.

“Help her through it?”

Ryan jokes, “I’ll make sure she finds a suitable rebound. There’s a pretty great lesbian bar here.”

Kate’s eyes twinkle. “Keeping it close to home?”

Ryan does not like the implication in that question. She redirects the conversation. “Call us every once in a while. And make sure to tell Mary how much you miss her. She won’t admit it, but she loves to hear it. And maybe text Parker too. That girl is so hungry for gay mentorship. And —”

“I get it. I will keep in contact.”

Ryan aims her beer bottle at Kate like a threat. “You better. Don’t make me come find you. I almost died the last time.”

But Sophie saved her then. Ryan can always do the same.

Sophie does not know what to do with herself now. There’s no guidebook on what to do when the love of your life comes back from the dead, then promptly leaves to search for her cousin. No FAQ with tips on how to handle making out with said love of your life either.

There’s a knock on her door. A hopeful part of her immediately thinks it’s Kate. Sophie will open the door, and Kate will drop down her duffel bag and helmet and say, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sophie rushes to the door. Throws it open and — oh, of course. Ryan gives her an apologetic smile from the other side of it.

“I know I’m probably not who you want to see right now….” Ryan starts. Her arms shift around two resusable grocery bags with overflowing snacks and wine bottles. A backpack bumps them from her shoulder. She offers another smile. “I brought supplies. And I’m here to keep you company through the heartache and to take you up on your offer.”

That explains the backpack. Sophie checks, “Kate’s leaving tomorrow?”

Ryan nods. “Tonight’s her last night in the loft, and my only night crashing on your couch. If the offer still stands?”

She seems hopeful too, and nervous, like she’s bracing herself for Sophie to close the door in her face.

Sophie hasn’t exactly had any company at her place. Not since Julia. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone here tonight. Make her laugh, make her smile.

Sophie steps back to let Ryan in. Ryan glides forward. Sophie closes the door and leans back against it so she can watch Ryan take in the space.

Ryan does a full turn in the entrance. “Damn, you got it like this?” She whistles low in appreciation. Her platform converse pad along the hardwood flooring between the front door and the living room. It’s spacious with the most comfortable couch Sophie’s ever owned, her favorite coffee table, and a large TV, courtesy of a Black Friday sale two years ago. This place isn’t as nice as her old apartment with Tyler, but it’s still one of the nicer places that Gotham has to offer.

Ryan glances back at Sophie, and she realizes she should probably answer the playful question.

“I barely got it like this. Say what you want about my comphet marriage,” Sophie pushes off the door to approach Ryan in the living room, “the dual incomes made life a lot easier.” She winces. Any income. “I may have to downsize again now that I’m unemployed.”

Ryan sets her bags down on the coffee table. “Just work with Luke.”

Sophie’s eyebrows raise in confusion. “In real estate?”

Ryan gives Sophie an equally confused look. “He still daylights as Head of Wayne Security. If you work there too, it’ll make Bat stuff that much easier.”

Oh. “I… hadn’t thought about that.”

“Bat stuff or what comes next?” Ryan asks.

“Honestly? Any of it.” Sure, Ryan has called Sophie now that Sophie knows the truth. They’ve teamed up, and they really did a great job last night during the blackout. All signs point to Sophie officially being a part of the team. She simply doesn’t want to assume and get hurt in the process.

Ryan reads her silence and rolls her eyes. “Consider this your Bat Team orientation. We mostly work nights, though there are the occasional work trips. We went to a beautiful island this year for a company retreat.”

Sophie can play along. “I think I’ve been there. Shame about the fire.”

Ryan nods with a faux somber expression. “Beautiful sight, even if it did almost kill me. Oh, and we have full medical benefits, so long as you go to Mary and Mary alone. No overtime. No days off. But you get to make Gotham a better place.”

Sophie pretends to think it over. “Is there a uniform?”

“Only for me. The rest of the staff comes as they are.”

“Lucky them.”

Ryan pops the collar on her flannel shirt. “You should see me in my suit.” It fits Ryan in all the right places for being protective wear. Sophie will never say that though. Ryan’s cocky enough without being complimented.

Sophie eyes the bags. “So what’s the plan?”

Ryan perks up, their earlier bit forgotten. “Anything we want. I’ve got face masks —” She tugs them out to show Sophie. “Candy and snacks. Most of it’s vegan, so I can enjoy it too. I brought wine that I took from the bar. We can blast angry, pop music, or do sad girl karaoke. Ooh, you can call Kate a bitch again.”

“I called Circe a bitch,” Sophie clarifies.

Ryan waves that off. “She deserved it.”

“Well, she’s gone so….” Sophie shrugs because that is the point, isn’t it? She glances around her one bedroom apartment — the effects of her last break-up — and logs the empty spots on the walls where old art would’ve gone. There’s space on the bookshelves from the books Tyler took with him. After the divorce, Sophie had to physically sort through her life. What does she do now when there’s nothing to pack up, or send away?

Sophie admits, “I’ve never had another person for this. Though, Kate and I did have a better goodbye than we usually do.” Even saying that puts a little smile in the corner of Sophie’s lips.

Of course Ryan clocks it. “Oh, y’all had a good-bye then.”

Sophie’s smile gets bigger as she licks her lips. A very good bye. As the rest of the conversation filters back in, Sophie’s smile shrinks. “She wants me to go for something easier.”

Ryan hums in understanding. “Long distance isn’t great, especially when you have no idea where she’ll be.”

“Are we still talking about Kate?” Sophie asks. Angelique’s out there somewhere. Ryan spent the majority of their working relationship hating Sophie because of Angelique. If Ryan’s still hung up on her….

Ryan shrugs. “We’re all getting over someone. I am just much further along than you.”

Honestly, direct communication is not something Sophie is interested in right now. She doesn’t want to think about whether Ryan misses Angelique, or how much Sophie will miss Kate when the reality sets in. She doesn’t want to think about Imani, or the fact that Ryan has had a whole mini-relationship in these last few months while Sophie’s been frozen in grief and time.

“You know what they say, the best way to get over someone…” Sophie lets the sentence hang a moment as Ryan’s eyebrows inch higher and higher up her hairline. Sophie laughs before finishing, “is to watch a movie with a friend. You pick.”

The way Ryan’s face lights up with the power is absolutely worth whatever disaster will take up the next two hours of Sophie’s life. “Let me see what you got.”

As Sophie brings two glasses of wine over to the living room, Ryan puts a throw pillow on the ground and tells Sophie to sit on it.

“But the couch—”

“Is for me!” Ryan plops down with her feet on either side of the pillow. She looks like they’ve got church in the morning and the hot comb’s smoking on the tray beside her. “You know the set up,” Ryan says.

“True. Care to tell me why?” Sophie’s hair is fine.

Ryan’s nose quirks up the way it does when she needs to keep her emotions in check. She shrinks into her chest. “When I was sad, my mama used to play with my hair. She’d claim that she was oiling my scalp, but mostly, she ran her fingers through it. Gave me a little massage until I felt better, or went to sleep. I am willing to do that for you, if you want to actually relax.”

Relaxing does sound better than drinking a lot of wine and crying. Besides, Ryan studies Sophie’s face like she wants to find every crack and smooth it over. How could Sophie say no?

She sets the wine down and sits onto the pillow. Instinct takes over as she scoots back until her back’s to the couch and rests her neck against the side of the cushion. Ryan does a little happy dance that shakes the couch. She presses play on the movie, and Sophie watches the credits. She does. She sees that much for sure. But once Ryan slips her fingers into Sophie’s hair, Sophie tunes all the way out.

A light lavender scent hits her nose each time Ryan’s hands shift towards the crown of her head. Did Ryan put on a perfume, or is that an essential oil? Lavender’s meant to be calming. Soothing. Sophie wants to drown in it.

As Ryan massages her way along Sophie’s scalp, the world melts away. No pain, no drama, just a weightlessness that eases down her body and makes her want to cry. Her body sinks into the softness. The peace and stability of knowing hands and the right amount of pressure to send tingles through her skin. Then Ryan’s short nails get involved, lightly scratching, and Sophie barely bites down on a moan.

Ryan must still hear it. A little chuckle shakes the couch. She doesn’t comment thankfully. Sophie doesn’t have the energy to be embarrassed right now. Too lost in the feel of Ryan’s hands on her. If this is what Ryan can do with just Sophie’s head —

Sophie’s eyes fly open. She needs to get a grip.

Ryan’s fingers snake down to Sophie’s shoulders. Again, the only grip Sophie can focus on is Ryan’s. Sophie lasts another few minutes of this high before sighing out, “Marry me.”

She figures Ryan will laugh at that too. They’ve joked enough about dates, both in and out of the cowl. Ryan doesn’t even stop touching her. Ryan leans down rather than keeping the distance. The shift in position tightens her thighs on either side of where Sophie sits. She waits until her breath is a warm whisper against Sophie’s ear to let out the sexiest little laugh. Sophie genuinely stops breathing.

“If you think this is good, you’re not ready.”

In an instant, Sophie would really like to be. Ready, willing, anything and everything if it feels this good and Ryan stays this close to her. Her face is on fire as she turns her head to see Ryan. Fuck, Ryan’s lips are right there. Teasing and parted, and Ryan’s tongue dips out to wet them. Sophie drags her gaze up from Ryan’s lips to meet Ryan’s hooded, sparkling eyes. Oh she knows exactly what she’s doing to Sophie. She’s enjoying this.

Ryan’s voice still sounds teasing. “Watch the movie, Sophie.”

“I’ll watch what I want to watch,” Sophie shoots back.

Ryan takes that as the challenge it is. She holds the stare and kneads her thumbs into the backs of Sophie’s shoulders. Sophie’s eyelids flutter, and she struggles again to keep from audibly moaning. At least this time, she catches the little gulp Ryan does.

Ryan scoots back onto the couch, up to her full — albeit little — seated height. Sophie turns further, and she tries not to think too hard about looking up at Ryan from between Ryan’s legs. It must be on her face though since Ryan actually averts her eyes.

“Soph....” Ryan’s voice strains. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Ryan started it with that ‘if you think this is good’ comment. She is not putting this back on Sophie.

Ryan groans, flustered in a way that should not look as cute as it does. “You know what! You — we — just look over there.” She takes a hand off Sophie to point back at the TV. “I am trying to be a good friend right now. To both of you.”

And there goes the fun. Sophie turns back to the TV. She really has no idea what’s happening in this movie. She doesn’t want to ask either. They’re damn near fifteen minutes in. She’s not going back in the movie, or with life. She’s not going to break down over losing Kate again. She has no reason to. She’s spent more time with Ryan this week than she did with Kate. She’s fine.

Ryan clears her throat. “Talking with her today was, like, everything I’d imagined it would be. She’s funny and witty, and she has great taste in everything. Present company included. I can see why you’d love her. And why it would be easier to not try to deal with those feelings of loss all over again.”

Sophie drops her head back against the couch. Her ceiling’s not nearly as interesting to look at as Ryan. Or Kate. “Do we have to do this?”

“We’re not doing anything else so….” Her narrowed eyes say exactly what she means by ‘anything else.’

“There are other things, Ryan.” Besides giving in to the tension that flares between them, besides shifting an already unstable dynamic past its breaking point. Probably many, many times.

Ryan holds her hands together in her lap. “Well, you’re clearly not interested in the movie, so: your call. What does the great Sophie Moore want to do with her break up night?”

Sophie’s eyes dance as she gets up to kneel in front of Ryan. (Yes, Ryan glances at her through what looks like a haze of lust and concern. Yes, she blinks, and all that emotion slips back under the base gleam in Ryan’s eyes. No, Sophie does not want to think about how many times Ryan might’ve looked at her like this without ever noticing.)

“Well, Ryan Wilder, there is one thing that I have been dying to do.”

“You have to— Sophie, please listen before we end up falling.” Ryan glares up at Sophie. They’re standing on a building that Ryan says is the best jumping point to the Bat-roof. It’s lower down, which is probably why Sophie has never seen either of the Batwomen coming.

Ryan’s face is torn between excitement and dread at sharing her red and black baton with Sophie. She repeats for the third time which button to press to shoot the grappling hook, how to angle the body, and how to land so they don’t fall off the roof.

“I’m listening,” Sophie swears. She adjusts her stance so her feet are wide like Ryan instructed. She angles her body towards the other roof — their roof. She takes a steadying breath and gently plucks Ryan’s hand off the other end of the baton.

Ryan steps in to wrap her arms around Sophie’s waist. “You have to brace yourself for landing. And please do not let go of me. I’m holding on, but—”

“I won’t let go,” Sophie assures her. She wraps her left arm around Ryan and holds tight to the baton with her right. Okay, another steadying breath, and she jams her thumb into the button. The wire flies out, and in a breath, they soar up through the air. Wind whips around them, and Ryan squeezes so tight that her face is nearly in Sophie’s chest.

For her assurances, Sophie does not stick the landing. She stumbles the moment the wire ends, and Ryan stumbles with her. Both of them clatter onto the Bat-roof with a groan and a laugh and a tangle of limbs that ends with them side by side on the roof’s floor.

The air around them is quiet and warm and still has a hint of the smoke from all the fires in Gotham yesterday. Sophie has the fleeting thought that it might be easier with Ryan than she ever expected. What ‘it’ is, well, Sophie blinks that away.

She props herself up on her elbows. “Can we go again?”

Ryan laughs. “No recovery period with you.”

Sophie gets up and offers her hand to Ryan, who takes it without hesitation. She tugs harder than she needs to. Ryan pops up with little more than a breath between them. She uses her free hand to tuck Ryan’s hair behind her ear. Lets her finger trail down Ryan’s neck.

Sophie whispers, “Oh, Wilder, you have no idea.” Ryan’s dramatic groan of reply makes Sophie laugh harder than she has all day. "Come on, round two."

Ryan pouts as Sophie heads for the stairs. Ryan points out, "I normally just jump off."

"What's the rush?" Sophie holds the door open for Ryan to come with her. "We've got all the time in the world."

a/n: We made it through season two, and I love these two so much. What about you?

#batwoman #batwoman fic #wildmoore #ryan wilder #sophie moore #ryan x sophie #mine #batwoman: s2 #batwoman: 218 #kate kane #kate x ryan #but not in a ship way just in a tag way

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loudsuitlover · 4 years

Text

A friends to lovers little thing

If today Y/N were to talk about her friendship with Harry, she’d probably not even mention Mitch, even if she did know him through him. But that has been years ago and even though Mitch was as close to Harry as he was to her, Harry and herself had develop their own friendship, where Mitch was always welcome but not always needed and she didn’t feel Mitch’s absence like a tragedy when she hang out alone with Harry. Which happened quite a lot.

Like right now, when they are both sitting on Harry’s backyard in LA, and her feet are up on his lap as she takes the sun in behind her sunglasses and he absent-mindlesly draws figures on her jeans-covered calves while he scrolls through his emails.

“H” she knows he’s listening even if he’s not looking at her “do you think things are going to go back to fully normal after this whole coronavirus pandemic is over?”

Then he looks up at her.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean” she shrugs “you know, I can see that people are a lot more wary now... Me myself I’m a lot more wary... I mean Europeans are starting to act a lot like countries which do not have a public health care system like... We’re afraid of getting sick, you know? And that means we pull away from the sick and that’s just wrong, isn’t it? I don’t know.” She shrugs.

“I mean it’s hard but... wrong? I don’t think it’s wrong. I think it’s what we need to do.”

“I know, yeah, but it’s like people are afraid of getting sick not only for being sick themselves but for what being sick means, you know? Like at work there was this girl who tested positive, she was asymptomatic, and everyone was like talking shit about her, you know? Like calling her irresponsable and I was horrified by that. I mean she was sick, when did we start blaming the sick for their sickness?”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. But people are afraid, you shouldn’t take it to heart, love.” He smirks.

She smiles and snorts a chuckle at the way he is always so chilled in LA.

“I hope you know, if you get sick, I’ll get sick too.”

He rolls his eyes but chuckles.

“That’s just plain silly, Y/N. I wouldn’t let you.”

“You would kick me out of your house?” Her mouth opens in the shape of an o and he raises his eyebrows while he nods. “That’s so rude!”

“I’d do it out of love!” He explains. “These days the way to say I love you is staying the fuck away.”

“And wearing a mask.”

“And wearing a mask.” He agrees.

“I think masks did a lot of good to ugly people.”

And like that she changes the topic and makes Harry laugh and they both talk about how useful masks can be. When he doesn’t feel like shaving he doesn’t have to, when she has a zit on her chin for her period there’s no worry and he laughs along because he thinks it’s ridiculous that she’s ever worried about the way she looks.

He met her four years ago in his own house. Mitch was over and they were going to order pizza for dinner but he said he had plans with a good friend and Harry said he could invite them if he wanted to so he did and there you were.

You arrived twenty minutes after the invitation and the first thing you said he remembers was this apartment is fucking massive and then your eyes had met his and yours had gone wide and embarrassed while he had just laughed at your honesty.

You had known who he was beforehand and you hadn’t pretended you didn’t but you had admitted you were not really a fan of One Direction just because you were not really a fan of anything- you didn’t believe in the fandom thing- or so you thought before he proved to you that you were a fan of a lot of things on just that first night. You would talk and then he would say so then one could say you’re a fan of chocolate and you would laugh and find him funny.

And then when the pizza was over and Mitch was mindlessly playing some chords on his guitar, you were both sitting on the same couch and your bodies were turned to the side so you were facing one another and it had been like such a magnetic connection in just about three hours he had fancied you and you were sipping from your beer bottle and the way you brought it to your mouth and rested your lips against the glass circle had him mesmerised and he thought you were really such a pretty girl and that you were funny and confident and you looked kind to him, even though he didn’t really know you, but he found himself wanting to know more and he wondered whether you would yes to dinner with him. He scratched the back of his neck then as if that was going to settle down the blush creeping up when Mitch talked.

“Hey, Y/N, we never got to talk about just how mad you were with “men as a gender” last week.” He reminded. “D’you still wanna talk about it?”

She sighed and had a sip of her beer.

“Well that depends on how you two are going to take it. If you’re going to be the kind of guy who feels attacked and tries to sell me that bullshit not all mean are the same then I’d rather not. I don’t feel like arguing tonight.”

And Harry liked that too. That you were fiery and had a mind of your own and had no fear to talk about it. Not because you were a woman, because he thought some men were lacking that too, but because you clearly had some ideas and he had always liked that about people.

“So we’re just supposed to agree with you on everything?” Mitch smirked.

“Not at all. You don’t have to agree. You just have to shut the fuck up if you don’t.”

They both threw their head backs and laugh and Y/N herself chuckled too. She didn’t mean that and Mitch knew that, he could always speak up his mind and disagree with her and she would take it but she had had enough and she was tired of men as a gender, of genders entirely, and Mitch had always been the ear who would listen to every little complaint she had so she another sip of beer and then she started talking.

“You know how you told me everything with Brandon was going to end up badly.” She pointed at him and he nodded. “Well, you were right.”

Then she tilted her neck so her eyes met Harry’s and she explained.

“Brandon is a mutual friend of Mitch and mine.”

“More hers than mine.” Mitch clarified but she just rolled her eyes so Harry smirked.

“They have this weird competition going on, I think it’s the testosterone again.”

“Not at all. I am like the least toxic masculine guy in England and you know that. It’s him who seems to have a problem with me.” He shrugged. “We know each other from high school and, don’t take me wrong, I love the guy because he’s like family at this point, but it’s true that he always seems to measure himself with me, you know? And then Y/N had the great idea to sleep with him and that only made it worse because, you know, Y/N’s my best friend and I’m her best friend so in his mind, I was a thread.” He chuckled. “Me, being a thread, as if I would ever date her.” He joked.

Y/N threw a pillow at him that he dogded thanks to years of practice and then she got back to her explanation to Harry.

“The thing is, I did meet Brandon through Mitch and I liked him” she looked at Mitch “that’s the truth and we were friends for a long time because he had a weird thing with a girl, I didn’t want to be a part of it and all that but then last summer something changed, you know? Like I actually thought he might be interested in me so I flirted with him, despite Mitch’s relentless advice not to-”

“But she’s never been known for listening to me.” He intervened, making her roll her eyes again.

“And so we became... You know... Special friends.”

“Friends with benefits, she means.” Mitch explained making Harry smirk.

“I think he figured that out.” She scolded him. “Well, two weeks ago, we went out and we were drunk, at least I know I was drunk off my ass, and he like literally stopped me at the washroom door and told me that he didn’t want to keep shagging with me because he liked a girl.”

“Shit.” Harry said.

“No, that’s not all.” Her eyes widened. “He said he wanted to let me know because I needed to change my behaviour because he knew I still wanted to sleep with him.”

Harry’s eyes widen and settled on Mitch’s and Mitch just nodded as if saying yeah, I know he’s a dick but he’s our dick, I guess.

“And the thing is what bothered me is realizing what he thinks of me, you know? He doesn’t see me as a friend and I wonder if he ever has or if he did and then it changed the minute he saw me naked- like what the fuck? So that’s where my problem with men as a gender began because then a few days later, I’m talking about this to another friend from work and you know what his reaction was?” She gave them a few seconds to answer but they both remained silent. “He asked me out! Like- what? I thought we were friends! But we’re not! He was just waiting to ask me out. So then I was like do I really have any male friends who do not want to see me naked? Other than Mitch?”

“Ryan.” Mitch offered then.

“Ryan is gay.”

“Still a male.”

She clicked her tongue but smiled. That had Harry thinking, he even felt bad for thinking of her like he had done before she told them all of that. He was considering asking her out himself then but after all that, he figured that’s not what she would want so he didn’t and for days after that he still thought about it.

It happened to him sometimes too and he knew some people would never get it, those who would say wait, so you’re complaining about being pretty? And then he remembered that Mika song are you wishing to be ugly like me? But no, it was not about being pretty or being ugly, it was about being objectified and he knew that was how Y/N had felt because he had felt that way sometimes too, so he didn’t ask her out. Instead he buried his feelings and he pretended he didn’t like her but damn right he did...

He liked the way she would bring up weird deep conversations any minute, he liked that thin black line she would get on her lips whenever she drank red wine because her lips were always so dry but she was too forgetful to have care with something as simple as lipbalm, he liked the clothes she wore and her scent and pretty much everything that had to do with her. And he’s liked that for four years but he’s always been afraid of saying something about it because he didn’t want to add to her feeling of being objectified.

But then four years later she was coming home from a date with Nate, a friend of a friend, and the guy had been nice and sweet but he hadn’t been as funny as Harry or smelled as good as Harry or moved as lanky and clumsy as Harry and he definitely didn’t have Harry’s sex appeal and she just didn’t like him like he liked Harry.

She rests her head on the door and sighs like a teenager because it’s been four fucking years of him being nothing but the sweetest, kindest friend; but she still can’t take him out of her mind. And this is the same old story, the girl falling in love with someone so clearly out of her league because Harry would never be interested in her like that- that’s just plain silly- but he loved her and he was so good at loving...

Sarah: How was the date? x

Y/N: Like every other...

Sarah: Pal, you’re the Grinch...

Y/N laughed at that. So what if she was? She rather liked the Grinch. She looked at the clock on her kitchen, it was too late to call Harry so she went to bed because the sooner she fell asleep, the sooner she would stop thinking about him. Even if it was just to dream with him...

He called her tonight too. He has lost the count of who called who or rather he had never counted. He figures those things some people did in relationships had more to do with pride than with actual healthy patterns and he called Y/N because he wanted to spend time with her, quite simply, and now they are both sprawled out like cats on the couches on his living room after watching Now You See Me and he is still sipping from his glass of wine when she asks him.

“Harry”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

He swallows the sip of wine he’s taken as his eyes set on her. She’s changed her position on the couch so she’s facing him but she’s still somewhat lying down so her eyelashes almost hit her cheeks because she has to look at him from an angle. He takes a deep breath, he studies her, he doesn’t know what she wants him to say.

“‘F course.” So he goes with the truth. “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Really?”

He frowns then. Is she being insecure now? She’s going to drive him crazy. He rests his now empty glass on the table and leans on his elbows on his knees before he breathes in.

“What’s this about?”

She purses her lips and looks away from him shaking her head. The wine had given her some courage, the wine and all the thinking she did the night before- maybe she should say something because if it has been four years it’s because even though the rational part of her knew it was impossible for him to feel the same, there was a little of irrational hope that he did; but if he said it- if he said no, Y/N, I just love you as a friend then she would have no reason not to move on and she would probably ask him for some time and space until she could mend her heart and then they could be friends without their friendship interfering on her love life.

“Can you please not do that?” He begs.

“What?” She tilts her neck and looks at him.

“Avoiding confrontation.”

She frowns.

“I’m not avoiding confrontation! Confrontation of what? We’re not arguing.”

“No, we’re not. But you asked me whether I thought you were pretty and I answered and asked you why you’re asking me that and now you’re not answering me.”

“It’s silly, H...” She shakes her head.

“Well, I want to know.” He presses.

She sighs. She’s going to say it.

“It’s just... We’re such good friends. I thought you would be honest with me about that.”

Except she doesn’t.

He nods.

“Why would you need me to tell you you’re beautiful? Do you not have mirrors?”

She smiles.

“I just wanted to know if you thought I was pretty.” She smiles. “That’s all.”

She leans over to the table to rest her empty glass of wine as well and Harry lets his eyes set on every inch of her body. The way that soft green cardigan has almost fallen from her shoulder, her strapped crop top and the way her cheeks has turned pink. And she hasn’t said anything, but that’s the first time he thinks she might fancy him too so he sighs. He has no problem in taking this slow. After four years, what difference does a day make?

“Well, I do.” He smirks. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

And that’s how their thoughts about what the other might feel started to change but their relationship didn’t yet change much. If anything, they didn’t look away anymore when the other catch them staring and the sheepish smirks came more often but they didn’t say anything still and it was nice and comfortable and nothing needed to be said.

And then this morning Harry just appeared on Y/N’s apartment very early when she was still on her PJs and he dragged her inside her bedroom when she claimed she had to study because he had found this very nice small village that he wanted to check out and he had heard they served good food on the town too so you got changed as he waited downstairs.

“Can I at least have breakfast?”

“Sure.” He smiles.

She rolls her eyes like she always did and swats his chest to push him away but that time he holds her wrist and pulls from her until she has to press her free hand against his chest to stop herself from colliding against him and he just smiles.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, love.”

“Or what?” She challenges.

His green eyes fall to her lips for a second and she feels her heartbeat accelerating. Please, God, have him kissing me. But his eyes flicker back to hers and he lets her wrist go with a teasing smirk. When she turns around, she rolls her eyes again.

After breakfast, she’s sitting on the passenger seat of his convertible and he’s driving one hour and a half away until they get to this very lovely clear sand, clear water beach and they step out of the car as he smiles like a kid.

“Are we in Santa Barbara?”

“Almost.” He smiles.

He doesn’t tell her the name of the town and she doesn’t really need to know, all she cares about is out of all the people in the world, he chose her to spend the day with at this town and she quite likes that.

As they walk up a cement hill towards the town, Harry’s arm wraps around her shoulders and he pulls her to him, pressing a kiss on her hairline and she feels her heart fluttering but not in a painful way, like it sometimes had in the last four years, but in a good one, in a new one, in a way that doesn’t feel inappropriate.

They walk around the town like that and she likes the way old ladies look at them, probably think he looks like James Dean, but somehow she feels like they think they make a good couple and that thought had never crossed her mind in four years.

“I like this town.” She says.

“You do? Me too. I was thinking about filming the Golden music video here.”

“Love that song too.”

She stops so she can look into his eyes and he holds her hazel gaze and he wishes he could tell her she is golden but instead he licks his lips inside his mouth so his smirk doesn’t give him away.

“Thank you, love.”

It’s true she loves that song. She loves everything she writes or performs, but that song especially, it just feels like he’s writing her own feelings towards him and she felt so exposed when she listened to it the first time because she was so sure he knew it all then but his jade eyes didn’t leave hers for as long as the song was coming out of their headphones and he was sitting in front of her and she almost cried right there but somehow she managed not to.

And then they keep walking, and they even stop at some souvenir shops and joke around with ugly hats and sunglasses and then they enter a cheese shop and buy two different cheeses and they talk about it like a married couple would and the old man from the shop really did think they were together because Harry held the door for her twice and because of the way they stared at each other when the other wasn’t looking.

She hasn’t stopped thinking about the Golden song ever since he had mentioned it and his arm had kept wrapping around her shoulders and his hand resting on her waist when they had to pull to the side because a car was passing on a narrow street or when the carriages of the market had passed them by and he had pulled her to him so they wouldn’t accidentally hit her.

“Are you hungry?” He asks.

“I could eat.”

He smirks. He could eat too...

“Jeff told me about this place... He was there with Glenne, it’s a good one, right by the beach like you like.”

She smiles and wants to kiss him as he looks down at his phone with a frown checking for the name of the place.

“H, why are you not seeing anyone?” She smirks.

His phone is still on his hand when he looks up at her and her smirk seems to be contagious. He shrugs but his eyes look into hers and it gives him away.

“What’s with the smile?” He asks.

This time it’s her who shrugs.

“I’m just happy you chose to bring me here.”

“Are you surprised?”

She shrugs again.

“I mean... This looks like the perfect plan for a date. You know, the beach, the nice restaurant, the lovely town...”

“It could be a date” he smirks “if you want.”

They both stare into each other’s eyes and people keep walking past them and cars keep driving down the road behind them but for all they care the world has stopped for these few seconds. They are both smirking and their hearts are beating fast like teenager’s before they kiss.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah.” He confesses. “You’re beautiful, you like my music... I don’t see why I wouldn’t take you out.”

She rolls her eyes again and he realizes he just made it sound like a joke but she’s been playing with his mind for years, she can take some mind game for a while too. Let’s see how she reacts too... She could turn it back into a real proposition, which is what she does.

“Then, yes, I do want it to be a date.”

He snorts a chuckle and she grins at him.

“Then a date it is.”

And for the first time in four years of friendship, he holds her hand as they walk towards the restaurant by the beach and it feels so right and so comfortable, she even caresses the back of his hand with her thumb.

But they didn’t kiss that day either because none of them was brave enough so despite all the times they had stood in front of one another and their heart had beaten hard and fast against their throats, they hadn’t dared so that night again she went to bed thinking it was all in her mind.

And then four days later he was having lunch with Mitch on Café Habana and he was munching on his salad when his friend cleared his throat.

“So what the fuck are you doing with Y/N?”

“Pardon?”

“I know you like her. I’m not an idiot but,dude, she’s like... Bad.”

“What do you mean she’s bad?”

“She thinks you don’t!” He shrugged.

“How would she think I don’t?” He frowned. “I’m so obvious!”

“She’s a jerk.” Mitch shook his head and Harry almost chuckled. “But if you hurt her, I’m going to have to kill you.”

“I won’t.”

“Then talk to her, mate. She’s driving herself crazy.”

“She’s been driving me crazy for four years, mate.”

“You’ve liked her for four years?” Mitch frowned. “But, wait, when did you guys even meet?”

“Four years ago.” Harry nodded.

“Wait, what?” Mitch chuckled because “So you’ve liked her since you met her.”

“Yeah...” He blushed then and Mitch started laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“The day after the pizzas at your house, she asked me if you were single, if you had ever dated someone non model, non famous, if she was anything like your type...”

“Really?”

Mitch nodded.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Mate, you know. I don’t do that.”

“You’re telling me I could have been with her these last four years and I didn’t because you don’t do that?”

So that night after talking to Jeff about the Golden music video, he picked her favourite sushi and knocked on her door around dinner time. She was on her housewear, like she liked to call it, so an old t-shirt of his and cottom shorts- very short- and his eyes inevitably roam her body before he even said hello.

“What’s this?” She asks.

“Sushi number 25 from Quimos.”

“Oh, God, I love you. Come in.”

He smiles differently that time, despite all the times he had heard she loved him, because that time he thought she might mean it in a different way.

She takes the bag from him and walks towards the kitchen, him following her suit and only when they’re in the kitchen he sees the mess she’s made with flour and cinammon and oranges all over.

“What were you doing, love?”

“Doughnuts.” She giggles. “Do you wanna help or should we let it be until after dinner?”

“Can you even let it be?”

“I probably shouldn’t.” She giggles.

He laughs too and places his jacket on one of the kitchen stools before he turns to her and presses a kiss on her cheek, his hand gripping her waist through his own t-shirt.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.”

Her hazel, to him golden eyes, look into his own and as stupid as it might sound, it’s like he can hear his own song in his mind, the instrumental part, and he knows she’s scared but he’s going to kiss her now.

So with a determination he’s been lacking for four years, he leans in and captures his lips with hers and he feels her breath getting caught on her throat as her lips welcome his. It takes a few seconds to react but when she does, it’s like they’ve been kissing one another for years. Their lips adjust to one another like a ring fits a finger and their hands know where to stand even if now they can probably touch places they never have before but for now they don’t. For now his hands linger on her waist for longer than he’s ever dared and hers tangle on his hair and caress the back of his neck and that freckle he has on the line where his neck meets his shoulder and her tongue timidly comes out at last making him moan and press his hips against hers mindlessly.

“I should have done that last saturday.” He explains when he pulls back.

She’s still fighting for breath and her smile almost doesn’t let her peck his lips as many times as she wants but he holds her waist and chuckles as she covers his face with kisses.

#harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles and reader #harry styles love #harry styles #harry styles new #harry styles fic #harry styles friends to lovers #friends to lovers

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