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kaitycole · 4 years

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“Cicero!”

Summary: You thought you and your sister just had one thing in common. What happens when you learn you have a second thing in common: your husband, Oikawa Tooru?

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Word Count: 2012

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of murder, cheating, black outs, and blood.

If Alex had to pick one word that described you, it would be smug. From the way you walked into the room, how you pulled out the chair, even the expression on your lips, were all smug. She knew right away that this interview would be a lot different than the others, something about you just radiated that energy, that almost dramatic flair an actress has when walking down a red-carpet Alex would’ve chuckled aloud if she knew it wouldn’t have inflated your ego that much more.

You look at Alex on the other side of the glass and smirk to yourself even though you know she can see you. You are the one who got everyone else to agree to this series of interviews, truth be told, you just wanted another chance to be interviewed. Prison wasn’t glitz and glam, no one cared about who you used to be outside the plain, cracked concrete walls, but those on the outside were so invested in what each inmate did, you decided to give them a show.

“Alex Hunt. How’d you end up landing this job?” You pull the sucker out of your mouth, making a pop sound, “I figured it’d be someone more…experienced.” If she’s taken aback, you can’t tell which intrigues you but also pisses you off in a way. “I don’t have to interview you, I can just exclude yours from the piece.”

You raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised at her sharp tongue, but knowing you were going to have fun talking with her, “I don’t recall that being what I said.”

“Then shall we start? Or do you have more banter you’d like to get out?” Alex picks up her pen, flipping over the already written on pages to a clear page.

“Yellow legal pad, how very original.” “Are you finished yet? Or are you going to comment on how I’m not wearing a hat or going by the nickname, Ace?”

You laugh, a sincere laugh, something you hadn’t done in years. This would definitely be fun. “Should I start by stating my name for the record?” “Sure, we can start with something easy.”

“L/N F/N. But I prefer just going by Y/N.” You scoot the chair back, propping your feet up on the small counter space you have on your side of the glass.

Alex just mutters under her breath, though nothing that you are able to hear. She scribbles something on her notepad before looking up. “ Your case is the only one that involves a double homicide. Says here it was your husband and…”

You finish the statement for her, “my sister.” A cold chill runs down Alex’s spine, up until now they had just been crimes committed against lovers, but not with you. She takes a moment to catch her breath, to gather her thoughts, never in a million years could Alex imagine killing one of her siblings. Though she also couldn’t be sure if she found them with her significant other, the thought wouldn’t cross her mind.

“Tell me about your sister. What was she like?”

You let out a breath though your nose, trying to figure out what exactly to say. What was she like? Did you even remember? Whenever you tried to think about her, all you could recall was her and your lover, in the throes of passion.

“The opposite of me, that’s for sure.”

“How so?” You bite down on the little bit of the sucker that’s left, the broken pieces fall off the stick which you just hold between the corner of your lips. “If I was dark then she was light. I wanted to be a part of everything, be in the middle of the chaos so to speak. But Sis, she just wanted to stay in, to be away from everything.” “What about your husband?” She slides a few folders around before picking up the one with your name on it, “Oikawa Tooru. How did you meet him?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” The smug expression Alex saw you wear when you first walked in was gone replaced by one that she swore was more devilish and mischievous than she’d seen before.

* * “Someone wants to meet you.” Your sister looked at you with a small smirk.

It was late, your show had run late and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep. It was unlike you, your sister would make that same remark, but international travel was wearing you down.

“I really just want to go to bed.” “I really think you should go meet him.”

You rolled your eyes, how many times could you fake a smile through fans telling you how sexy it was that you were -that- flexible before following it up with some poor and downright lame attempt at trying to sleep with you? But your sister was never this persistent which made you feel you should.

“Okay, okay, where is he?”

“Right out there,” she pushed you through the door of your dressing room but before you could yell at her, you felt yourself bump into someone. When you looked up, a pair of wide brown eyes take in your (e/c) eyes before he apologized.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was so close to the door.”

You wanted to tell him that he wasn’t. that your sister pushed you, that you lost your footing, but none of those seemed to come out of your mouth as you took in the tall brunette’s features. You swallowed hard, inhaling though your nose before introducing yourself.

“I know, I’ve been to a few of your shows.” You watched as his cheeks reddened. “I’m Oikawa Tooru.” “Sorry, but I don’t recognize your name.” You smirked and could’ve swore you saw his knees buckle.

He ran his fingers through the poof of brunette hair. “I take that as a good thing, though I can’t say I’m surprised.”

His words were innocent, but the tone in his voice made them cocky and you knew in that moment you were hooked on this Oikawa Tooru.

“As much as I’m enjoying this banter, you can just skip the part where you tell me how hot it is that I can put my legs behind my head and I’ll just skip to the part where I turn down your poor attempt to sleep with me.”

“Ah. I should’ve guessed this happened a bit.” He leaned forward, causing you to back into the wall behind you. His hand on the right side of your face, pressed flat against the wall as his nose brushed yours. “Well I hate to disappoint you, but I’ve seen a few people that can put their legs behind their head.” THUD. Your heart rammed into your ribs.

“Oh? Then why bother coming backstage? Surely not to get an autograph, mine’s not that pretty.”

He smirked, leaning closer to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “How else would I ask you to dinner?”

* * “We dated for a while, he stopped playing professional volleyball and joined my sister and I on the road. We got married about a year or so later.”

“You traveled for acrobatic routines?” She looks up at you, making sure she had the facts right and not in the condescending way other reporters had looked at you.

“Yes. It was the one and only thing my sister and I actually did together. Well, unless you count the incident that landed me here.” You pull your legs off the counter, standing up to stretch a bit.

“If you had to describe how you felt that night, the night of the incident, which word would you use?” “Betrayed.”

* * “I can’t believe it! Two hundred shows, that’s insane!” Your sister laughed, popping open a new bottle of champagne, haphazardly pouring it into you and Oikawa’s glasses.

“I can. You two are simply amazing.” He pressed a sloppy kiss on your temple before downing his drink.

The three of you were in you and Oikawa’s hotel room, celebrating the fact that the show you just finished had been the two hundredth show you and your sister had done. It was a huge feat for the two of you since you didn’t have a proper manager, Oikawa had been doing the best he could in the three years you’d been together.

You watched as your sister turned up the music that had been playing, dragging Oikawa to his feet and making him spin her around as they did something that looked like dancing. You laughed, loving how close your sister and husband were, it made the three of you traveling all over easier on you. You didn’t have to worry about petty fights and having to pick sides because that would’ve been hell. Acrobatics was the biggest thing that linked you and your sister after years of being polar opposites and you wouldn’t trade your relationship with Oikawa for anything, he was the only person other that your sister that understood you, made you feel safe.

“Maybe while I go get ice, you two can learn how to dance.”

The three of you all laughed, a mix of happiness and alcohol clouding everyone’s judgements and decisions. You turned to look back at them once more before slipping down the hallway, empty ice bucket in hand, feeling on top of the world.

* * Alex shifts in her seat uncomfortably, she knows what you’re going to tell her next. She’s read the reports, seen the crime scene photos but just like her last interview, the emotional recollection of the events made it that much harder to stomach.

“You couldn’t have been gone long though.” “Heh.” You scoff, “long enough apparently.”

* * They must not have heard the door click open due to the loudness of the music, that’s what you told yourself when you say your sister and husband in the compromised position you found them in. They would’ve jumped apart, right?

Would’ve told you that it wasn’t what it looked like, right?

That it was just the alcohol, right?

Not just continuing the crude act they were preforming, right?

Then it all hit you, like a train, the way your sister would look at him. How her fingers would linger on him when she handed him something. How you’d seen his eyes follow her around a room while sitting next to you. How all the times you found them together, looking like two teenagers who were walked in on, didn’t seem so innocent anymore, you didn’t seem so paranoid now.

Your vision seemed both blurry and red at the same time. An intense anger that you’d never felt before, is that what it felt like to have the two people you loved more than life itself betray you? You sat the ice bucket down, fingers wrapped the candlestick on the shelf. You chuckled, remembering how your sister had pointed it out calling it tacky, maybe in some sense that was ironic.

You lifted it above your head with both hands, the last thing your remembered was Oikawa shouting your name as your sister screamed.

* * “You really don’t remember anything else?” Alex is quickly writing down what you’ve said, making sure not to miss any detail.

“Not at all. Not until I walked into the bathroom.”

* * You cocked your head to the side, watching as the red liquid dripped from your hands, how it just smeared when you rubbed your hands together. You saw how your golden band was stained as you ran water over your hands, the white sink turning pink. It was in that moment you knew that both your sister and husband were dead.

* * “I know that look.” You say, looking directly at Alex, who looks positively pale.

“What look?”

“The ‘I can’t believe they did that’ look.” You scoff. “As if you know what you would do in that situation.”

“I don’t, but…”

You cut her off, “then how can you tell me that I was wrong?”

Series Masterlist here

General Masterlist here

#oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #tw major character death #tw blood #tw murder #haikyuu!!

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

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One Brain Cell Between Three People

Rating: T

Summary: Or: five times these disaster humans had to disguise themselves and the one time they didn't.

Slot: 2.5k+ fic.

Written for an anonymous donor for the @mlbforblm drive, with all profits going right to Color of Change! I hope you love these disasters! The response to the drive was absolutely overwhelming, and I’m touched to have been commissioned for it!

AO3 link

1. From an akuma

“So, Ladybug!” Chat Noir says brightly. “If you’ve got any brilliant plans to get us up to Sauron out there, I’m sure we’d love to hear them!”

Ryuuko doesn’t have a clue who Sauron is, nor how it relates to the massive tentacled monster with one gigantic red eye that’s resting on the tip of the Eiffel Tower. They’ve tried coming from all angles, but the akuma’s eye seems to have a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree field of vision, because it always sees them coming and bats them away as easily as swatting mosquitoes.

“Why do I have to come up with the plans?” Ladybug grumbles. Chat Noir’s cheeky grin widens.

“Because you’re the brains, milady, and I’m just the humble clown.”

“Your brain was working just fine against Miracle Queen!”

Ryuuko tunes out their banter as she peeks around the corner of the wall behind which they’re hiding. Her brain leaps from idea to idea like arcs of lightning, zapping each one to a crisp when she picks out the flaws, because all of them rely on not being seen and there’s no way to accomplish that against this akuma. It seems to have flawless superhero senses, because it always sees right past the terrified civilians to pick out the superheroes –

Wait…

“I have an idea,” Ryuuko announces. Her teammates’ banter immediately dissipates. “The akuma is ignoring anyone who isn’t directly working against it. It’s almost like it just wants to keep surveillance on everyone.”

“You could say it wants to keep an eye on people,” Chat Noir says cheerfully. Ladybug sighs and facepalms.

“Low-hanging fruit, kitty,” she mutters. Ryuuko just raises an eyebrow and waits for them to finish.

“If we want to get close, we need to not be what it’s looking for,” she says.

“Like sneaking into Le Grand Paris disguised as a pizza delivery person because that’s not what Chloé Bourgeois is expecting you to be even though she knows you’re trying to get back something she stole from you?” Ladybug says. Chat Noir blinks.

“That’s, uh…incredibly specific,” he says. “And I’m not sure I want to know why. You were saying, Ryuuko?”

Unlike Chat Noir, Ryuuko does want to know the context behind Ladybug’s very specific example, because it’s exactly the kind of thing that Marinette would do. The thought of her girlfriend brings a small smile to her lips, just as when she thinks about her boyfriend Adrien. It’s a pity they aren’t superheroes, to be honest; they’d be fantastic, but Ryuuko’s not in any position to make suggestions, so she keeps this to herself.

“Different,” Ryuuko finally manages to say. “We need to not look like superheroes.”

“Disguises!” Ladybug jumps from foot to foot. “I’m so good with disguises! I’ve snuck into the hotel! And a party everyone threw for the guy I liked who’s now my boyfriend since I wasn’t allowed in for being a girl –”

“Why, milady, if your boyfriend didn’t recognise you beneath your strong disguise, he can’t be that much of a keeper,” Chat Noir says.

“My boyfriend is very much a keeper, thank you very much!” Ladybug huffs. “He’s one of the smartest people I know! Apart from Ka – uh, my girl –”

“Akuma,” Ryuuko interjects. Ladybug and Chat Noir jump.

“Right! Akuma!” Ladybug unslings her yo-yo. “There was a costume store on the next street over! For disguises!”

Getting to the store takes far longer than it should, but since there’s a giant eye in the sky, Ryuuko’s sure they could be forgiven for having to be extra slow and cautious. Once Ladybug’s shut the doors behind them and dragged over a chair for good measure, the three of them get to work browsing the multitudes of costume clothing and accessories to find the best pieces to conceal their most obvious features.

“I wish all akumas could be this fun,” Chat Noir beams as he tries on a cowboy hat. “They’re all get out there, get the crap beat out of us, milady comes up with an amazing plan, we’re done. Not that I don’t love the times I get to see Ladybug, of course.”

“I know what you mean,” Ladybug says. Ryuuko slaps a hand over her mouth to smother her giggles at the sight of Ladybug, hero of Paris, wearing a massive blue feather boa and round glasses. “We’ve been doing this for so long that it’s become…monotonous, you know? The only real variety is my Charm.”

“Not the akumas?” Ryuuko says as she selects a long blonde wig, then shudders and replaces it after a moment. Too similar to Chloé Bourgeois. And while they might both be rich girls with mother issues, Ryuuko refuses to think of herself as anything like that spoilt brat, especially after the stunt she’d pulled as Miracle Queen.

Okay, so Ryuuko doesn’t actually remember that, and Chloé does apparently have some semblance of a heart, but still. Ryuuko’s not known for her forgiveness, especially with how much nastier Chloé’s been since that incident.

“Milady! Milady!” Chat Noir yanks out a ladybug-patterned onesie. “I could be you!”

Ladybug snorts. “In your dreams, kitty. You could never be me.”

“But I was once!” Chat Noir tilts his head like a curious kitten would. “Remember?”

“Yes, and you were just amazing at it,” Ladybug says dryly.

“You weren’t any better, Lady Noire!”

“Excuse me? I was perfect!”

“Explain the Cata – uh, power mess-up, then!”

“I still had to figure out the Luc – the Charm!”

“And I could’ve told you not to dust the sentimonster!”

Ryuuko just ignores their arguing this time. Maybe it’s better for them to get it out now, so that they’re focused when facing the akuma. She loses track of time as she sifts through the costumes, wondering why she’s even being so picky in the first place since it’s just to disguise herself from an akuma. Then again, Kagami Tsurugi would never be caught dead in a clown costume, even as Ryuuko. Maybe it’s a good thing to have more refined tastes.

“Hey, guys!” Ladybug says. Ryuuko turns to see Ladybug picking up a large box, having dumped its contents on the ground, and she grins and drops it over her head. “Look, I’m a bug in a box! The perfect disguise! He’ll never know it’s me under here!”

“Come on!” Marinette’s whisper is marred by giggles as she holds out boxes to Adrien and Kagami. “Let’s hide from your bodyguard in these! He’ll never know it’s us under here!”

In that moment – by the silliest way possible – Ryuuko suddenly knows. Now there’s a name to the face beneath the scarlet mask; the face with the bright blue eyes and freckles, framed by pigtails – pigtails! – and currently wearing the same silly smile that Ryuuko has seen a thousand times as Kagami and looks forward to seeing a thousand times more.

Oh, it’s too bad that she can’t tell Adrien that he’s dating Ladybug. His massive superhero crush on her is more obvious than the fact that there’s next to nothing in that pretty head of his. Actually, that’s not fair; Adrien is very smart, but he’s also one of the densest people that Kagami has ever met. Being with him is just like working with Chat Noir, who’s got a very sharp mind when it’s needed –

“Does this make me the Chat in the Hat?” Chat Noir says as he dons a top hat and Ladybug’s laughter grows louder.

– but is also far more of an idiot than anyone has the right to be. It’s a wonder that poor, bi Kagami didn’t trip over herself around Chat Noir like she did with Ladybug, considering how similar he is to Adrien –

Ryuuko freezes. No. No way. There’s no way all three of them could be that lucky; that Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, were pining for each other this whole time, that Ryuuko fell for the two people who happened to be the heroes of Paris, that there’s a reason why Chat Noir showed her so much care after she was Oni-Chan and why Ladybug was so sweet and understanding of her failures as both Kagami and Ryuuko –

“– something picked out, Ryuuko?” Ladybug’s – Marinette’s – voice pierces the fog that’s descended on Ryuuko and shrouded her thoughts with realisation after realisation as she combs through every memory of her interactions with them. “I mean, this has been really fun, but we probably should get back to doing actual superhero things.”

Ryuuko takes a deep breath to ground herself. She’s far better trained than this; she shouldn’t allow herself to be so distracted during a mission. “Yes, I’m ready,” she says and grabs the first armful of cloth and accessories that she can find. She can fall apart later. Right now, she has a job to do, and she’s not going to let her partners down.

2. From Paris

Kagami loves her boyfriend and girlfriend. She really does. But there are times where she wonders if being with them is worth the constant emotional turmoil that they always seem to put her through.

“The fattoush looks good,” says Adrien, who’s seated across from Kagami. The fact that he’s wearing a hideous straw brim hat and sunglasses so appalling that they would give his father an aneurysm on the spot is the source of Kagami’s current agony. “But I’m tempted to go for the kibbeh, just because Father would die if he knew that I was eating something fried.”

“Do it,” Marinette says immediately. Kagami’s pain is compounded by the fact that her girlfriend is wearing a pair of glasses with a large fake nose and moustache attached, along with a sickeningly horrible pink poncho. But then again, for a budding fashion designer to wear something so awful? Maybe she’s smarter than Kagami had first thought.

Of course she is, says a traitorous little voice in Kagami’s brain. She’s Marinette. She’s Ladybug. But even being Ladybug isn’t enough to save her from Kagami’s judgement. Why couldn’t Adrien and Marinette have just worn an oversized hoodie like she did?

Okay, so it’s Adrien’s oversized hoodie, and the smell of him envelops her like a warm hug whenever she ducks her face down beneath the collar, but still.

“Done,” Adrien says and slams his menu down. The couple at the next table over stare at him, but his disguise seems to work because they might think he’s a weirdo, but they don’t appear to think that he could be Adrien Agreste. “What about you, Gami?”

As always, Kagami’s insides flutter at Adrien’s use of his and Marinette’s nickname for her. She clears her throat and squints down at her menu, which may as well be written in English what with how nothing seems to compute in her brain, and she blurts out the first thing she sees. “Shish barak.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Sure, if you’re into yoghurt.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna steal just my food?” Adrien complains. “Maybe I should order the shish barak too, so you leave my food alone.” He’s promptly shut down by Marinette giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“No, you’re getting the kibbeh,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m getting the kibbeh,” Adrien parrots robotically. Marinette smiles sweetly.

“And I’ll have the djaj mashwi,” she says, while Kagami ponders the merits of slamming her head on the table at the sheer display of Ladybug and Chat Noir energy from her two oblivious idiots. “I’m in the mood for chicken.”

Kagami pushes all thoughts of clobbering her partners’ heads together away as Adrien plays foot wrestling with her under the table and Marinette waves a waiter over to order. For now, she’s just going to enjoy this silly date in their silly disguises.

3. From Lila

She’s everywhere.

She’s hanging off Adrien on his way to fencing. She’s tangling their legs together when she crashes their study dates. She’s smothering the air around them with her cloying citrusy perfume as she laughs far too loudly at Adrien’s joke during a friends’ hangout.

And there’s nothing that Adrien can do about it. If he does one thing that even hints at defiance, Lila Rossi will go running straight back to tattle to his father like the venomous little muse she is. Even the fact that Adrien’s taken – by two people – has done nothing to dissuade her. If anything, she takes this as an open invitation.

“Oh, this kind of thing is very common in Italy!” Lila had crooned one day when Kagami had – very politely, in her opinion, since no swords were involved – asked her to please take her hands off Kagami’s and Marinette’s boyfriend, thank you very much. “It was so good to learn that Adrien had two girlfriends! There’s so much love in his heart…and so much room for more…”

It’s a sunny afternoon after school when Kagami finally snaps. Not at Lila; no, she knows very well what Gabriel would do in retaliation if his precious spy was hurt in any way. Rather, as soon as fencing is over and she’s changed out of her sweaty gear, she barges into the boys’ bathroom with her heavier-than-usual fencing bag.

“Kagami!” Adrien yelps and slaps his hands over his nipples. Kagami rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have breasts, Adrien,” she says with every ounce of patience that she’s had to curate since learning her partners’ secret identities. “And it’s nothing that Marinette and I haven’t seen before. Speaking of Marinette, hurry up and get dressed.”

“Why?” Adrien hurries to throw on his top, further confirming Kagami’s suspicion that he’s started changing after fencing as slowly as possible to put off the moment he has to leave and be accosted by Lila. “Is she hurt? Did Lila or Chloé throw her over the balcony or something?”

“Not yet,” Kagami mutters. She rummages in her fencing bag for Adrien’s oversized hoodie that she’s…ahem, delayed returning. Because she has definitely intended to return it. Eventually. Which is now. “She’s letting Lila…spout hot air? Is that the saying?”

“And you left them alone together?” Adrien snatches his hoodie and tries to yank it on so quickly that his head ends up caught in the sleeve with his arm. Sighing, Kagami helps him correct his mistake while trying as hard as possible not to let her fond smile at her boyfriend’s dorkiness slip through.

“Marinette can handle herself.” Kagami fishes out a pair of sunglasses and a green baseball cap. “It’s Lila I’d be worried about. In any case, she’s keeping Lila occupied, but there’s only so much threatening and bragging that Lila can do before she grows bored.”

“Then what’s –?”

“We’re sneaking you out. Come on.”

Kagami tugs Adrien over to one of the tiny windows in the bathroom. Then, in one smooth movement, she crouches and cups her hands for Adrien’s foot. Gritting her teeth and drawing on every bit of athletic strength she has, she propels Adrien up to the window and locks herself in place so that he can pop the latch and push the window open.

“Damn it!” Adrien curses when the locker room door opens. Kagami prays it’s not –

“Adrien?” Lila’s sickly-sweet voice echoes in the locker room. Thank goodness for bathroom doors, or she’d have caught them in a heartbeat. “Where are you? I didn’t see you walk out.”

With newfound fervour and a boost from Kagami, Adrien grabs the windowsill and propels himself upwards. He almost doesn’t fit – Kagami holds her breath when he ends up stuck halfway out and curses – but then he forces out a loud breath of air for just that little less abdominal width and manages to slide fully out the window. Kagami just has to assume that he’s fine and has no serious injuries from his landing, although being hurt would probably be preferable to him over dealing with Lila.

She gives it to the count of ten, then flushes a random toilet and washes her hands before pushing the bathroom door open. Lila immediately materialises in front of her.

“Kagami! Hi!” Lila says with a very fox-like smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to use the boys’ bathroom.”

Kagami shrugs. “After you called me a boy with boobs the other day, I figured it shouldn’t matter if I used the boys’ bathroom. There’s really no difference except for the urinals. And the stench. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Oh, I was only teasing.” Lila sounds like she was doing anything but. “Where’s Adrien? He’s usually finished changing by now.”

“I don’t know,” Kagami says with another shrug. “He’s not in the bathroom either, though. You can go and see for yourself.”

Before Lila can take up any more of her precious time, Kagami brushes past her and out of the locker room. As soon as the door swings shut behind her, she lets her giggle break free into her hand and pulls out her phone to check in with her accomplices – er, her partners. Now she truly understands the saying “being bad has never felt so good”.

4. From an akuma take 2

“I seriously want to know what goes through Hawkmoth’s mind half the time,” Misterbug complains. He deflects a burst of pink perfume with his yo-yo, then ducks so that Lady Noire can jab Princess Fragrance with her staff. “Like, remember the days we thought he was Mr Agreste? And then I realised ‘no, he can’t be, because Mr Agreste at least has some creativity!’”

Ryuuko isn’t sure whether she wants to pat Misterbug on the head in agreement or slap him to get his head back in the game. To be fair to Hawkmoth, Puppeteer had been one of his most powerful akumas with her ability to control someone if she has a doll or similar representation of them, so akumatising her for a third time isn’t too foolish of a move. And considering that Ladybug and Chat Noir merchandise is very widespread, the decision to swap their Miraculouses like with Reflekdoll had been inevitable. Ryuuko’s never been more grateful that she’s not considered a steady enough temporary hero to have merchandise made of her, so there’s no way for Puppeteer to control her.

If she’s honest, Ryuuko can’t really scold Misterbug for not fully focusing. Not when she has to spend a whole mission with her girlfriend in a tight black catsuit. And while Ryuuko is very much asexual, only a fool would deny the sheer beauty of Marinette Dupain-Cheng with a long braid and a suit sculpted to her body and an uncharacteristic smirk on her face that’s much more reminiscent of Chat Noir than Ladybug. If Ryuuko had even an iota of artistic skill, she’d spend hours just trying to capture Marinette’s beauty in all forms, starting with the feline goddess who’s just managed to trick Silencer and Jackady into hitting each other. Silencer immediately starts to cluck like a chicken, while Jackady frantically starts shuffling his cards, trying to make his power work without his voice.

“Heads up!” Tortue Verte’s shield whizzes over Lady Noire’s head and nails Darkblade right in the face. She whoops and punches the air. “Strike! I could so get used to this.”

“As hot as you look in my colours, babe,” says Foxtrot, using his flute to keep panther Animan’s jaws away from him while he’s sprawled on the road, “I kinda miss Rena. And using the shield. Never thought it’d suck to have merch of me.”

Knowing that Ladybug is Marinette, Ryuuko’s almost certain of the identities of Tortue Verte and Foxtrot, aka Rena Rouge and Carapace. But considering that they’re in the middle of a battle and there are several brainwashing akuma puppets, she buries that thought very deep down and instead focuses on deflecting one of Reverser’s paper planes with her sword. There’ll be time later to muse on secret identities, when they’re not in the heat of one of the most chaotic battles that Paris has ever seen.

5. From Gabriel

Death is far too good for Gabriel Agreste.

“Breaking up with Adrien is the last thing we’re going to do,” Kagami says as Marinette sobs hysterically into her chest on the soft pink chaise. The anger simmering beneath her skin is almost at boiling point, threatening to bubble over and explode out of her, and her crying girlfriend is the only thing keeping her grounded. One of them has to be on the lookout for akumas, and it’s most definitely not going to be Marinette in her current state.

“B-But you heard M-Mr Agreste,” Marinette chokes out. “He’ll p-pull Adrien from school. And – your m-mother – we’re j-just a d-distraction to you – he said she told him –”

“Rubbish.” Kagami runs her fingers through Marinette’s hair and presses a soft kiss to her head. So many years of being hard, of compartmentalising her irrelevant and distracting emotions to please her mother, to live up to the Tsurugi name, and then she’d met the boy and girl of her dreams and now she’s alive, and she feels so strongly, and no one is going to take this away from her. What is honour if it means turning her back on those who need her? On those she cares about?

“B-But –”

“No. Marinette, listen to me.” Kagami cups Marinette’s cheek and guides her face up. The sight of her girlfriend’s red-rimmed blue eyes is enough for the poisonous rage inside her to almost break free, but she forces it back down as though it’s a rabid animal on a leash. If Marinette gets akumatised, all is lost; not only because she’s Ladybug, but because she’s one of the kindest, sweetest, most amazing people that Kagami has ever had the fortune to meet. And if Kagami gets akumatised, the emotional toll of having to defeat and purify her will more than likely be too much for Marinette to bear after everything else that’s happened today.

“Kagami…?”

Kagami blinks and shakes her head to clear her tumultuous thoughts. Later. She can process her own emotions later. For now, Marinette needs her.

“I’ve never been more focused since meeting you and Adrien,” Kagami says. “And if Mother even tries to argue, I have a whole presentation prepared. I’m serious. I have it saved on my flash drive.”

Marinette lets out a weak giggle. Kagami basks in the glow of this laughter, as tiny as it is, because it’s tangible proof that, as awful as she can be interacting with other people, she’s improving. She knows enough to support one of the people dearest to her.

“Mother might not have been happy, but she didn’t try and interfere,” Kagami continues. “She said that so long as my focus did not waver, she would give me her tentative blessing. I suspect that Adrien’s father has spoken to her and persuaded her that you are a negative influence on me and Adrien. That will change once I talk to her.”

“And…Adrien?”

“We’ll work it out.” Kagami leans in and leaves a soft little kiss on the top of Marinette’s nose, and she’s rewarded with another watery yet musical giggle. “The only thing we’re not going to do is break up with him. That will crush him. We’re going to tell him exactly what his father said.”

“We can’t!” Marinette jerks back and almost topples backward off her chaise, if not for Kagami’s arms around her. “Mr Agreste will pull him out of school and he’ll never get to see his friends again and he’ll know it’s all my fault and he’ll be unhappy for the rest of his life and end up turning to evil and working with Hawkmoth and we’ll never marry him and have three kids – more if you want them but I want three and they’ll be Emma and Hugo and Louis – and a hamster called –”

“How do you even have enough breath to say all of that?” Kagami says, trying not to pass out just from following Marinette’s catastrophising ramblings. Marinette laughs rather hysterically.

“It’s a gift. But we can’t tell him! He’d refuse to break up and I’d be responsible for him losing everything!”

“Shouldn’t he have that choice?” Kagami says. “Everyone around him tries to control him. Adrien deserves to be able to make that choice. And this isn’t solely on your shoulders. We’re both dating him.”

“But…how do we talk to him?” Marinette whispers. Now she’s slumping against Kagami with fluttering eyes, as though she’d just participated in an extremely strenuous bout of fencing and is two minutes from passing out. Considering her anxiety-ridden ramblings from just before, she probably has exerted that much energy, just mentally rather than physically. “His father will never let him out. We’d have to stand at the front door, and he’d know as soon as we tried to talk to Adrien.”

“We default to our usual plan.” Kagami gently untangles herself from Marinette so that she can cross over to Marinette’s wardrobe and start rummaging inside. “Disguises.”

“But what good is that going to do?”

“Plausible deniability. Adrien’s bodyguard is a very firm ally, but even he can’t ignore direct orders. However, if he allowed Adrien out to talk to some friends instead of his girlfriends…”

“Of course!” Marinette breathes. Kagami is suddenly tackled from behind and is forced to throw her hands out and grab the sides of Marinette’s wardrobe to prevent herself from faceplanting. “Gami, you’re a genius! I love you, I love you, I love you!”

The poisonous anger that had been burning through Kagami’s body dissipates at Marinette’s words and gives way to soft warmth, like the sun is shining inside her. Once her legs are steady underneath her, she turns and wraps her arms around Marinette, who’s now trying to plaster every inch of her face with kisses.

“I had to bring something to this relationship, didn’t I?” Kagami says. “You and Adrien are far too chaotic to be left alone. Come on, help me pick out some disguises so we can go and talk to Adrien.”

Kagami had never imagined that Hawkmoth’s defeat would go this way.

It was supposed to be glorious. A fantastic final battle full of clashing superpowers and pumping adrenaline.

But no. Adrien had caught a glimpse of Nooroo – Hawkmoth’s kwami – during a visit to his father’s office to confront Gabriel for his stunt regarding Marinette and Kagami and trying to break the three of them up. From there, it had been far too easy for Ladybug and Chat Noir to simply sneak in and steal the Butterfly Miraculous after Adrien had somehow slipped some sleeping pills into his father’s expensive whiskey.

(Or rather, Plagg had done that part, but Kagami’s not supposed to know about her boyfriend being Chat Noir, so she’s considerately refrained from pointing out the flaws in the “official” story).

Gabriel and Nathalie – aka Mayura – had been arrested the following day. In the wake of their arrests, Kagami had thought that Adrien would jump at the chance to be done with them and pretend they never existed. But her boyfriend had proven that, despite the years of emotional abuse he’d been forced to endure, he’s still got one of the biggest hearts that Kagami has ever seen.

“I love them,” Adrien had whispered into a midnight three-way cuddle, finally allowed to crack and break down after so much time fearing the consequences of emotional vulnerability. “After everything they did to Paris…to me…there’s a part of me that still…I don’t want to forgive them, but I don’t want to hate them. I just want them to…not be. You know?”

And that leads to now. Kagami, Alya, and Nino have been gathered in Adrien’s temporary suite in Le Grand Paris, where he’s been staying until his bodyguard can be awarded permanent custody since Emilie Agreste had been laid to rest just days before.

“Thank you for coming,” Ladybug begins, wringing her hands. “I know that there wasn’t really a final battle or anything –”

“Pity,” Nino mutters. “Been looking forward to smacking that guy in the face for years.”

“– but I still wanted to thank you for stepping up and putting yourselves on the line,” Ladybug continues, while Chat Noir’s lips twitch at Nino’s comment. “I trust the other heroes, of course, but you three are, well…I’d trust you with my life. And with what Chat Noir and I are about to reveal.”

Chat Noir’s lips quirk again, but it’s hollow. A small part of Kagami wonders if it’s appropriate for her to know exactly why, when even his own superhero partner doesn’t know.

“Even though Hawkmoth and Mayura are gone, there’s still so much to do with the Miraculouses,” Ladybug says. “Petty crimes, little acts of goodness…and figuring out how to do this whole Guardian thing. Part of that is not leaving the kwamis locked up in the Box for centuries. So, now that Hawkmoth is gone, and identities aren’t an issue anymore…”

Alya almost faints when Ladybug retrieves the Fox Miraculous from her yo-yo and holds it out. She stretches her hand out to take it, pauses with her fingers right above the golden chain, and she only snatches it away and hugs it to her chest with squeals of ecstasy when Ladybug smiles and nods. Nino actually yanks Ladybug in for a tight hug when she gives him the Turtle Miraculous before letting go to talk to the turtle kwami that had materialised, just as Alya is currently chatting away to the fox kwami so fast that her words are almost just a buzzing sound.

It takes every ounce of willpower for Kagami to not lose her composure and shriek when Ladybug presents her with the Dragon Miraculous. Instead, she forces herself to contain the energy that’s vibrating beneath her very skin, and she bows her head and accepts the choker from her masked girlfriend.

“Greetings, Kagami-san!” Longg says once she’s appeared in a flash of red light. “I am thrilled that you are to be my permanent holder!”

“As am I, Longg-sama,” Kagami says with a smile and holds out a hand for Longg to settle on.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Ladybug says when Kagami, Alya, and Nino have finally exhausted themselves from excitement, “Chat Noir and I have something that we want to tell you.”

Chat Noir reaches out and takes Ladybug’s hand with a small smile. Alya looks like she’s going to burst with excitement, but that’s nothing compared to her reaction after Ladybug and Chat Noir utter their next words.

“Spots off.”

“Claws in.”

As soon as their transformation lights fade, it becomes painfully obvious that they hadn’t revealed themselves to each other before this moment. Alya’s screaming – muffled into a pillow to avoid security rushing up to them – and Nino’s wordless gaping are to be expected. What’s not expected is the way Marinette and Adrien take one look at each other, then squeal and jump apart.

“Oh my god, it’s you!” they bellow. Their kwamis, meanwhile, are doubled over in mid-air with laughter.

“Dude!” Nino holds up his hands with the look of someone who’s doing ten equations at once in their heads while being utterly awful at mathematics.

“My best friend is Ladybug!” Alya shrieks. “Since when? How the hell didn’t you two figure it out from being together? Is that why you gave me the Fox? And missed class all the time? And all the times you flaked – you were off being Ladybug – my best friend –”

Kagami just stands in the centre of this storm and smiles down at Longg.

“And you!” Alya jabs a finger at Kagami. “How the hell did you manage to land Ladybug and Adrien Agreste? Tell us mere mortals your secret!”

“You’re not even surprised?” Marinette splutters. “How did you –?”

“Because unlike others in this room…” Kagami takes a step forward and leans in. Marinette and Adrien lean back with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “I have a brain cell.” Then she leans back and savours the mixture of indignation and awe on her partners’ faces. She might pay for this later, but for now? She’s going to savour this sweet, sweet victory while she can, before Marinette and Adrien team up to punish her.

She won’t complain too much, though. She’s sure they’ll work out an appropriate punishment…like kissing her until her brain melts. She can live with that.

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kaleidoscopeminds · 4 years

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Fingertips on me, I can feel them still

I wrote this ENTIRELY because I saw that tiny bit of Calum’s hair again today and I just couldn’t take it anymore so I have written him getting it fixed by hairdresser Michael :-) gotta thank the lovely @tigerteeff because of the amount of time we have spent talking about this and the rest of the club for the hair discourse in general. So herewith 2.2k of malum fluff

So, Calum isn’t it? What have we here?” The barber quirks an eyebrow at Calum in the mirror, and Calum imagines he’s smiling at him by the crinkles around his eyes, not actually being able to see the bottom half of his face owing to it being covered in a protective mask.

“Um, you better prepare yourself,” Calum mumbles quietly. Not only was he having to deal with the shame of his hair looking like it does currently, his barber (Michael if he remembers the name correctly from when he booked) was also fucking gorgeous: all long soft-looking fringe, glasses, and dangly earrings. He’d booked in at his normal place, but the guy who usually cuts his hair was apparently on holiday. The lady on the phone had offered him a new guy, and even though he was wary, he knew he couldn’t put off getting his hair cut any longer. That didn’t account for the new guy being the fucking prettiest man he’s ever set eyes upon, mask and all, and if Calum didn’t want to take his hat off before, he definitely doesn’t now.

“Oh come on now,” says, still with those crinkles around his eyes, “I’ve seen a lot of bad hair in the past month, I am now incapable of being shocked.”

Calum sighs and pulls off his beanie, which it was already definitely too hot to be wearing in LA in September but at the moment, needs must. He looks back at his hot hairdresser in the mirror, challenging him to make a comment, but Michael just pauses for a second, then takes a calculating look at Calum’s head.

“Damn, that's a lot of hair,” he says, not in an unkind way, and reaches out to brush his fingers through it. Calum tries his best not to shiver at the sensation of his hands pushing through his hair whilst simultaneously blushing furiously at Michael’s comment.

“Uh, yeah,” he says embarrassed. “I had a buzz cut before all this started if you can believe it.”

Michael gasps horrified, “A buzz cut? You mean you were keeping the world from this gift?” He tugs lightly on the ends of Calum’s hair to explain his meaning and Calum focuses extremely hard on not letting it affect him. He’s been in the chair for less than five minutes for fuck’s sake.

“Gift?” He says disbelievingly. “Have you seen the garbage that’s on top of my head right now?”

Michael giggles delightedly, throwing his head back in a ridiculously charming way. “It leaves… a little to be desired,” he says, a laugh evident in his voice. “But that’s mainly because of these bleached ends, you’ve really managed to kill your curl pattern.”

Calum just shrugs a little sheepishly. “Yeah my hair’s been through quite a bit in the last couple of years.”

“What are you after then?” Michael says, running his fingers through Calum’s hair again and fuck he really wishes he would stop doing that. “And don’t say buzz it all off because I categorically refuse.”

“Dunno really, I was gonna say just get rid of it but I suppose that’s a no go now? Whatever you want? I bow down to your superior knowledge and talented hands,” Calum says, winking, to let Michael know he’s joking without being able to smile at him from behind his own mask. He notices that Michael gets a blush over the top of his cheekbones as he winks. Interesting.

“Well,” Michael says with a small cough. “I might have an idea, let’s see what we can do.”

Calum smiles at Michael behind his mask, hoping that he emotion is conveyed despite the barrier. Michael beckons at him over to the sinks at the back of the barbershop and gestures towards the seat in the centre. Calum sits down and leans his head back into the sink, and Michael starts the water, holding it away from Calum’s head while it warms up.

“Let me know if the temperature is okay,” Michael says quietly before running the water over Calum’s head, careful to not drip into his eyes.

“So, you weren’t tempted to have a go at cutting it yourself?” He asks Calum lightly, as Calum hears him pump shampoo into his hand.

“Thought that might be a bad idea,” Calum says and then loses his train of thought as Michael starts lathering his hair. He bites back a contented moan as he feels his fingers scratch along his scalp, massaging patterns underneath his curls.

“I think that was probably for the best,” He vaguely hears Michael say from above him. “Let me know if the pressure’s okay”

“It's good,” Calum manages to choke out, and he can hear Michael let out a little laugh.

“Do you like a head massage then?” he hears Michael’s voice say innocently.

“Mmm,” is all Calum can respond with, his limbs going limp as his body relaxes into the seat. He feels like his body is incredibly confused as it honestly can’t work out if Michael is relaxing him or working him up with his hands.

“You know some people absolutely hate this,” Michael says conversationally as if he can’t sense Calum’s inner turmoil.

“I find that fucking hard to believe,” Calum murmurs, closing his eyes, and Michael laughs again.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Michael replies, pausing in his massaging of Calum’s scalp to rinse off the shampoo.

“Let’s just say I stand by what I said earlier about your talented hands,” Calum responds, sighing at the loss of Michael’s hands but also relieved, he’s not sure what his body’s involuntary reaction might have been if it had gone on much longer. He hears Michael make a little embarrassed noise above his head and smiles to himself behind his mask, maybe he was having an effect on the pretty barber himself. Michael pulls some conditioner through his hair but fortunately (or unfortunately) for Calum, focuses the product mainly into the lengths, before rinsing his hair again and wrapping it deftly in a towel.

“Okay, follow me, let’s get this garbage sorted out,” Michael says teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows behind his glasses.

Calum follows him back over to his original seat, and gets handed a disposable gown from Michael which he struggles with for a moment before Michael takes pity on him and helps him tie it at the back, keeping as much distance as possible but still managing to brush his fingers over Calum’s neck, and if the twinkling in Michael’s eyes is anything to go by, was done entirely on purpose. Calum sits down and fiddles with his gown as Michael drags over his trolley with his tools. He pulls out clippers and plugs them in next to Calum.

“I thought you weren’t going to buzz it off?” Calum says, frowning at Michael as he turns on the clippers and they buzz loudly next to his ear.

“Oh I’m not don’t worry, but we’ve got to lose some of this on the sides and the back,” Michael says, waving the clippers in a vaguely threatening way. “Where’s the trust hm? I thought you were bowing to my talented hands?”

Calum feels the blush creeping up his face. “I am!” He says quickly and then mimes zipping his lips. He hears Michael laugh again before he gets a focused look on his face and starts running the clippers up his scalp on the sides and back, pulling back when he reaches the top of Calum’s head. Calum wishes he could see more of Michael’s face when he’s focusing like this, the slight pucker in his brow as he frowns in concentration and the way his eyes take on a serious look as he moves around Calum’s head with a practised air. He wants to know if Michael nibbles on his lip when he’s thinking or smiles to himself when he does a good job.

He stops looking at Michael for a second to look at his own head, which has taken on the alarming look of a mushroom, with short sides and a ridiculous amount of hair on top, and raises his eyebrows expressively at Michael.

“Hey,” I see your judgemental eyes,” He says lightly, sweeping the hair off Calum’s shoulders and giving him a small tap. “Trust the process.”

Calum snorts and shakes his head which earns him another small tap on the shoulder.

Michael pulls out a comb and sections the top of Calum’s head neatly with clips, before grabbing his scissors and beginning to pull small pieces of Calum’s hair taut and holding between his fingers before carefully trimming off all the yellowing blonde ends, snipping into the line of hair. He continues moving expertly through Calum’s hair and Calum cannot stop looking at the way Michael’s fingers move, flashing in and out of his curls, moving skilfully and with purpose. He wants to talk to Michael, to learn more about him and to make him laugh again but he’s far too distracted by what he’s doing with his hands to manage any coherent conversation.

“So Calum,” Michael says, clearly not having the same concern as Calum in this situation. “What made you wait so long to come and get this sorted if you disliked it so much?”

“Dunno,” Calum replies distantly, still looking at Michael’s hands. “Guess it didn’t seem important enough to leave the house for.”

Michael gasps in mock horror. “Not important? How dare you.” He laughs as he reaches the front of Calum’s head, combing through a few times before beginning to trim again. “What changed your mind, hot date coming up?”

Calum snorts. “Not likely.”

“Now, I find that fucking hard to believe,” Michael says quietly, catching Calum’s eye in the mirror for a second before looking away.

Calum grins and is incredibly grateful for the mask that conceals what his face is doing, just makes a non-committal noise and shrugs his shoulders.

Michael trims off the last piece of yellowing ends and nods to himself pleased before skimming his scissors up the side of his head, Calum assuming that he’s blending the edges into the fade on the sides.

Once Michael’s gone round his whole head with the scissors, he grabs some thinning shears and starts moving through his hair again. “I feel like it’s a crime to get rid of more of this beautiful hair but I’ve got to lose some of the bulk here otherwise it's going to be impossible to deal with.”

Calum laughs. “Yeah I can attest to that.”

Michael finally goes over to the the other side of the barbers and picks up some product which he scoops out of a container and rubs between his palms before running it through the short curls on the top of Calum’s head and the slightly longer ones he’s left in the front, twisting them slightly around his fingers. Calum thinks that his attraction to the man has reached an all time high, and he promises himself he will at least ask for Michael’s number before he leaves the barbershop.

“Okay what do you think,” Michael says, and Calum thinks he can pick up a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“It seems I was completely right to trust your talented hands, it looks great,” Calum says honestly, twisting his head to look at the sides and then checking the back in the mirror that Michael holds up for him to see. The awful blonde remains have all been removed, leaving short and neat sides and as much of the curl that could be kept on top, waving back into its familiar pattern.

“Now don’t be shaving it off anytime soon okay,” Michael says seriously, sweeping hair off Calum’s shoulders with a brush and lightly untying the gown at the back.

“How will you know if I do,” Calum says cheekily, pulling his arms free and shaking his T-shirt out.

“I have your number on the file, maybe I’ll have to call you and check,” Michael says, eyes glinting and a flush appearing on his cheeks again, as he twists his fingers through Calum’s hair one last time and then almost unconsciously brushes Calum’s neck as he moves his hands away.

“Maybe I could just give it to you now and save you the trouble,” Calum replies, blushing himself and adjusting his collar.

“Well that could work too I suppose,” Michael says shyly, and digs his phone out of his pocket.

Calum laughs and reels off his number for Michael to enter, before getting to his feet and sliding his jacket on.

“Thanks for the haircut Michael,” Calum says. “Maybe I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“Maybe you will,” Michael responds with raised eyebrows. “Now, however cute you are, you need to leave, my next client is here.”

Calum laughs and gives a small wave before leaving the shop. He looks back inside to see Michael texting something on his phone, before he looks up to meet Calum’s eyes and gives him a wink. Calum feels his phone buzz in his pocket and fishes it out, he opens up his phone to see a message from an unknown number, he opens it and laughs out loud before shaking his head at Michael and walking towards his car.

Now don’t be going and flirting with any other boys with your sexy new haircut

#5sos fanfiction #malum #malum fic #fic #wooooops I wrote a haircut fic #wrote myself into an absolute corner with hairdressing descriptions in this lads #anyway in this Calum's hair is lovely again and I am At Peace #meg fic

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liiilyevans · 7 years

Text

Hiding

JILY CHALLENGE || @liiilyevans vs. @heypottcr

A/N: This is so last minute, but I hope you like!

Summer tropes + “I saw you in Diagon Alley not expecting you to be here this summer and bottled it so ran into the nearest shop, now you've found me hiding my face under this ridiculous hat in Madam Malkin’s and I can explain.”

“Lily?” James said, surprise littering his voice.

Lily winced as she heard his voice and tried very hard not to die of humiliation.

Raising a child wasn’t easy. Not being married, or even in a relationship, with the father of your child made it even more difficult. It wasn’t that Lily didn’t like James. She did, but not that way—at that’s what he thought.

It was simple really. They hadn’t kept in touch much since school ended, other than the occasional run in at the Ministry. One night Lily had gone out with her friends and they’d run into James and his friends. That had been a wild night indeed. There was no shortage of alcohol and Lily had soon found herself at James’ house with his lips on her own. As it turns out, alcohol and sex didn’t mix well, and Lily found herself pregnant.

Thankfully, James wasn’t a dick about it though. He agreed to help her with the child. In fact, he seemed excited about it. So, nine months later, when the baby arrived, both Lily and James had worked out how exactly this would work.

For the first year of Harry’s life, he’d stay at Lily’s house. After that, they’d trade out every two weeks until he went to Hogwarts. And everything had been going to plan until about a week ago.

Harry had just turned five and Lily and James had thrown him a small birthday party. Of course, James being who he was decided that it would be a good idea to have Sirius give Harry a ride on his motorcycle since they weren’t throwing some big extravaganza for a birthday party. Of course, this ride took place when Lily had gone into the house.

When Lily heard the roar of the engine start up, she was back outside in a flash. All she saw was her son being lifted into the air on a motorcycle and James grinning like an idiot. And then Lily proceeded to have a go at him. How dare he put her son in danger! How dare he be so careless!

Well, apparently, James didn’t think it was dangerous because ‘I’d trust Sirius with my life’. Since she obviously wasn’t going to get anywhere with James, she waited for Sirius to return and then went off on him as well. Sirius, however, wasn’t fazed by her temper. In fact, he thought it funny. So, Lily did the only thing she could. She grabbed her son and locked James and Sirius out of her house.

They didn’t find this funny at all.

The next day found Lily still simmering after what James had done. It also found James a little more sympathetic to Lily’s side of things. So, that afternoon, James came bearing flowers and an apologetic expression on his face. He told her that he was sorry for not considering how she would feel about the motorcycle and that he’d try to think about her feelings again before doing something like that.

Lily thought it was sweet and invited him to stay for dinner. Harry was so excited when he found out.

But that wasn’t the reason that Lily was hiding under such a hideous hat in Madam Malkin’s. No, the reason she was hiding under this hat was because of what happened that night.

Being the idiot she was, she somehow found herself in bed with James—with no clothes on. Now, She never in million year would she have thought that she’d have feelings for James Potter, but then again, she never thought that she’d have a kid with him either. The next morning, Lily was so embarrassed she could have died. There was no way she could face James now.

So, she’d done what any sensible person would do. She knew that it was James’ day to take Harry so she got up and left a note saying there was an emergency at work and to go ahead and take Harry. When she got back at two o’clock, James was gone and Lily had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

That was about a week ago.

“Mummy!” Harry shouted as he ran into her knees and nearly knocked her over.

When she’d seen her son and his father in Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour, she’d made a run for it, but while doing so, her brain hadn’t been working properly. Somehow, she’d ended up in Madam Malkin’s shop with a ridiculous hat on her head.

“Mummy, Daddy said he’s going to get me a new broom for Christmas,” Harry told her. “I couldn’t talk him into buying me one today, but he said I’d get one for Christmas.”

“I said might,” James corrected him, running a head through his hair.

“That’s the same thing as yes,” Harry said stubbornly. “Why are you wearing that hat?”

“Oh, um, I was thinking of buying it for gardening,” Lily lied. “It’s so big that there’s no way the sun could get to me in this. Do you like it?”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “No. There’s too many feathers.”

Nevermind the fact that they didn’t even have a garden.

“I’ll help you find a hat!” Harry exclaimed before running off.

“Didn’t know you were taking up gardening, Lils,” James said, as he tried to keep the grin off his face.

“Shut up,” she growled, turning red.

“Besides, purple really isn’t your color.”

Lily snatched the hat off her head and pushed it back onto its hanger while James laughed.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “I’m sorry. You just looked so funny in that hat.”

“I’m not afraid to slap you in front of all these people,” she told him primly as she crossed her arms.

“What are you really doing in here anyways?”

“Buying lingerie.”

“For?”

“Me.”

“Why?”

“Because I like it. A girl needs to be spoiled once and a while.”

“Sounds like you’re spoiling someone.”

“Nope. Just me.”

“Would you model it for me if I asked nicely?”

“Never.”

“My heart’s broken.”

Lily shook her head as she fought the smile that threatened to overtake her. Sometimes, she hated the fact that James was so fun to be around. She still couldn’t let go of her embarrassment of that night. How could she have been so foolish as to let her lust cloud her judgement? James wasn’t just a one night stand she could walk away from. He was the father of her child and the risk of hurting that child wasn’t something she was willing to risk.

“About the other night,” James started.

“I’m sorry,” Lily blurted out.

“Sorry?” James repeated, confused. “What are you sorry for? I thought we had fun.”

“We did. I did, but that doesn’t make it ok,” she replied. “We have to think about Harry.”

“I think Harry would be very pleased if his parents were together,” he shrugged as he leaned against the wall. “That is, if you let me take you out on a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah. Candles and all.”

“Well, if there’s going to be candles.”

There was a sudden crashing noise from somewhere in the shop. Lily jumped. James pushed himself off the wall. Then Harry came running toward them.

“I didn’t do it,” he said, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

Lily looked up at James. “Is that our queue to leave?”

Despite Harry claiming to not have anything to do with breaking a hat stand, it was apparent that someone had climbed onto said hat stand and knocked the whole thing over. Harry was the only child in the store. So, James ended up paying Madam Malkin a large sum of money for her destroyed stand. Lily couldn’t bring herself to care though. She had a date to worry about.

#heypottcr #jilychallenge #jily #James Potter #Lily Evans #Harry Potter #hp #My writing

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sayonaranxiety · 6 years

Text

The Place Where We Get Back Home

Super insipred by @pascalcampion’s brilliant art on instagram! I can’t believe how a person can inspire me so so much! Whenever I see his new posts on instagram, I always ended up spacing out, making out stories in my head that was inspired by his art. Thank you for helping me getting back my wild imaginations! You’re the best!

I might not be the tallest building around.

But I stand out the most, because every night, the lights on every floor lights up like a christmas tree and it always smells like home.

Well, because I am home.

Four stories isn’t that tall, but I do look intimidating somehow. My bricks are also bright red with some vines hanging around here and there. They’re nice. Compared to other apartments around me, I do stand out a lot. The rest of the building are just plain gray or white, nothing interesting really.

I was built a long time ago. A time when people were still fighting for peace, where people had to crouch under their tables, bracing themselves from another blow, too late to get down through the stairs and get out of the building. I’ve witnessed many, many lives of people. Some were happy, mostly sad, some were living without any excitement. I’ve witnessed many deaths, I’ve witnessed birth, I’ve witnessed proposals, I’ve witnessed it all.

But never been before in my entire existence in this world, have I ever witnessed something like what is happening right now. So many happiness and excitement happening around the floor. I’ve never seen this much happiness since forever.

My brick might be rotten and weary.

But I keep on holding, just to witness another lives of these people.

Claire and Mitsuki were the first ones who light up the place. Their excitement and lively aura brought me back from my sleep the first time they came around. They saved up so long, so much just to get out of their old lives. Claire was so tired being defined by the people around her. She kept forgetting who she was, too busy pleasing people around her when the only one who needs pleasure was really her all along. Claire picked her own furniture without worrying about voices telling her of what to have and what not to have, she painted her walls, she danced around the room like nothing in the world matters to her.

Mitsuki spent her life living under many people’s expectations. Everything around her went by too fast, she felt like she couldn’t catch up. Her mind decided to leave her body and watch everything went by from afar instead of changing her pace to match everyone else. She was the tree where everyone rests their weary souls. But a tree, sometimes, also needs clouds to cover them from the overheating sun. When Claire came along, everything seemed to go by not as fast, Mitsuki somehow came to her senses and got up her pace, everything seemed to be slowing down after a while. Because of the cloud, the sun didn’t seem to shine too overwhelmingly then. Instead of watching her life pass by, her mind came back to where it belongs, back as the god of its own body. Mitsuki shared her passion and how she sees the world to Claire. Don’t be mistaken, Mitsuki is still a tree for the weary souls. But at the end of the day, a cloud was just the only thing she needed.

Claire and Mitsuki brought laughter and excitement into my old bricks. Although they both live on the highest floor where weird musics and hysteric laughter was always heard, when you see from the outside, the light on their floor is the most dim.

And now brings me to the person who lives on the third floor.

They call him Nyx. But it isn’t his real name, really. He is daring and a person who was born with natural charisma. He voices out his opinions and his views with confidence. But unfortunately, not everyone could accept his views and ideology. He was too comfortable living on his own, a lone wolf. He didn’t have the need of another company, a relationship with another human would count as something unnecessary to him. But oh, how he was wrong. It was Christmas when he bumped into Mitsuki when she was running up to her floor. Nyx knew it was Christmas Eve and everyone--except him--were all excited for the next day. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for someone to wear santa’s hat. Mitsuki was wearing one and it pissed his entire being.

“I’m sorry?” Mitsuki said when she saw Nyx scoffing on her back, which took Nyx by surprise. He didn’t think she would hear him.

“Your hat is ridiculous.” He said, opening his door halfway, making his way in before stepping back out, “No, actually, this whole thing is ridiculous.”

Mitsuki, at that time who was bringing groceries just stood there, wondering what made him think that this whole thing is ridiculous. Standing one feet on the stairs, she asked him to elaborate, ended up him telling everything about the idea of Christmas is just a consumerism in disguise. In her mind, Mitsuki wanted to scream obligations, but she have lived her life listening to people before voicing out her own opinion. So she listened. She listened until he was lost in his own explanation.

“You know, instead of making assumptions and false judgement on this huge thing you call consumerism disguised, maybe you would like to come to my floor and spend Christmas together? Me and my roomate is making pasta and you’re more than welcome to join.” Mitsuki said, “And maybe, just maybe, Claire--my roomate, does have the same view like you? Who knows?” She explained.

Nyx blinked, he never celebrated Christmas since he left his parent’s house 12 years ago. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited when Mitsuki asked him. He remember how Christmas used to be special to him, just like everyone else. He hid his excitement under the lie that he wanted to know of how Claire, Mitsuki’s roomate, also has the same view as him just like Mitsuki said. Instead, Nyx found himself arguing with Claire--who apparently worships Christmas--the whole night. Ended up with them, clinking glasses, celebrating Christmas.

By then Nyx realized how he enjoyed himself when he was talking to Mitsuki, as well as when he argued with Claire. He realized how he just wanted to be heard when all these time, he was just being ignored. That night, Nyx learned new things. He learn that he never really enjoyed himself being something he call a lone wolf.

These three people have changed the atmosphere inside my red brick walls. It was never this lively before. Oh, I’m not quite finished yet actually. There is still the young couple who lives on the second floor and a lively grandmother who lives with her two grandchildren on the first floor. I was just telling how everything started and how everything connects after that.

I listen to people’s lives. I was tired, but I decided to hold on. I want to witness a little bit of hope that is left in this world, on my floors. It’s been a while since I’ve heard that phrase. The phrase that I’ve been longing to hear. The phrase that everyone on the whole floor says, whether it is night or day.

“I’m home”

a/n: I tried to make it obvious but vague at the same time(?) if it’s even possible haha. Claire had anxieties/depression where she kept being defined by the people around her. She couldn’t find her identity, who she really was, what she really wanted and passionate about, she wasn’t sure anymore. Also, Mitsuki had depersonalization where she kept finding herself detached from her own body as her mind was flying around aimlessly, watching things pass by her. Everyone reached to her whenever and she just didn’t seem to have someone to reach. As for Nyx, he was living his life in full denial. He had this little chant inside his head that he does not need anyone else other than himself--which is bullshit haha.

I don’t speak well in real life. I stutter most of the times. But I hope my writing is clear enough for everyone to understand that mental illness is real. As lethal as cancer or tumor or heart attack. What made it more scary is that this illness was never there to bee seen. So people just assume that it doesn’t exist. Maybe she’s just crazy, maybe he’s just sad. And then the next thing you find of them is their breathless, stiff body. Then, you’ll be sorry.

does this even make any sense? hahaha

#anxietywrites #pascal campion #inspired writing #i wish pascal can read this #although it's nothing special #it's not even that good #but I just want him to know how his drawing have inspired me so much #chokes #the place where we get back home

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