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hmm-self-indulgence · 2 years

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Michael Shelley x Gn!Reader

Read as a statement. Italics are Jon, and regular is You! Gender Neutral, congrats you are married, have graduated uni, and live in England. Statement given around mag 140. I’m going with the descriptions given on Fandom Wiki for Michael, and the classic interpretation of Helen (since she has no canon description).

Warnings! Intense language, traumatic experiences, major character loss, some almost sexual themes but no smut. Pretty much just PG-13 except for language and some monsterfucking elements. READER HAS SEMI BISEXUAL TENDENCIES (you get both distortions for the price of one!) Also, what's a timeline, never heard of her? So just general timeline fucking up for the sake of some fluff and angst. Mentions of religion and praying (kinda worshiping the spiral a la Manuela)! Drug mentions. Also, violence against Elias, but who cares! Some artistic liberties taken when it comes to a lot of things. I’ve never been to the UK so some stuff might be wrong. Technically unintentional spousal abuse, (gaslight gatekeep girlboss) plus technically kidnapping? Plus the reader is a bit mean to Jon. Also my friend proofread this and said it reminded her of twilight a bit so I hate that but I wanna post it anyway. I hate that I took unintentional inspiration from twilight but here we are anyway.

No one has the permission to repost this on any website. Do not use my content or claim it as your own! I do not own these characters, they are made, owned and are the property of Johnathan Sims. I am in no way profiting off of this and this is made with full respect to Rusty Quill.

Quick taglist @decora-peaches , @swordsandfools, sorry gang I'm a fool who needed the confidence to post this and its been quite a bit since I promised to post this.

Helen has decided to try to buy our friendship again, as she has brought me a statement. Where she got it from I have no idea, but I feel the need to record it. Anyway, Statement of (y/n) Shelley, regarding their life and experiences with their husband... Michael. Date written, unknown. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

I'd like to first say that I hate your Archive and everything you stand for. You took the man I love from me twice and I despise you all for it, but Helen asked for it and I cannot deny her anything. So here is my statement, and I hope you choke on it.

I met Michael Shelley in our first year in University. We were in a maths class together. We had finals coming up and a handful of our classmates wanted to meet up at the south library to practice together later in the day. The study session ran extremely late, and it was dark when I left the building. He must have seen my hesitance and offered to walk me back to my dorm, and I guess we hit it off.

We went out quite a lot, and he was so sweet and always listened to what I had to say. He was occasionally forgetful, but he never made me feel like I was

Michael always had this… obsession with the unnatural. He told me what happened to his friend when he was a child, and I believed him well enough. I didn't believe in ghosts or ghouls or any of that lot, but he did. Michael heard that the Magnus Institute was hiring, and before I knew it he had dropped out and started working there full time. I was surprised, but honestly I didn’t think much of it at the time because he was so happy to have that damn job.

My parents were... not thrilled with Michael. To them, he was too quiet and, as you know, working for the Magnus Institute isn't the most glorious or well paying job, and my parents were worried that he was crazy. To be honest, he wasn't all there when I was with him, he always seemed to be a world away. But that didn't matter to me. He was mine, and we loved each other.

He proposed at my graduation, and we got married a few months later. The wedding was a small thing, his parents didn't come and mine showed up begrudgingly, so it was mostly just a few friends and his two of his coworkers that showed up in the end. Michael was so damn happy to see Emma and Eric. Eric even brought his little boy with him. It was the happiest day of our lives, I don’t think I ever saw Michael smile as much as he had that day.

We had a small apartment right between our workplaces. It was a bit of a trip for both of us, but I don't think either of us minded. He went on a few trips for the institute, so when he told me he was going north with Gertrude I didn’t see anything the matter with it. I helped him pack some warm clothes, and we had dinner before he left. Nothing… Nothing seemed wrong at first. I was used to him not being able to talk when he was on his trips, but after 3 weeks of silence went by I was scared. I got the letter the next day. “The Magnus Institute regrets to inform you that Michael Shelley has passed away. Our deepest condolences, Elias Bouchard.”

I went to the institute to get answers, storming my way into Elias’s office. He didn't even have the kindness to look shocked or even the slightest bit remorseful. Didn’t say shit about it either, just that he was dead. I asked about his body, if there was anything that could be buried or just anything about what happened. He just… stared at me, just saying that Michael was dead and that the institute was sorry.

I don’t remember much about what happened next, but I remember feeling his weasley little neck in my hands as I tried to squeeze the answers out of him. Security pulled me away and when he caught his breath he told me he wouldn’t press charges, but that I had to leave and not come back. As I was escorted out of the building, I saw Gertrude and Emma staring at me with those blank eyes. I begged her to tell me anything about Michael, anything at all and that I knew she was with him on that trip. Nothing made her react at all, but I swear she flinched when I asked if she killed him. I don’t know how I got home that day.

I prayed that day. I prayed that the institute was wrong, that Michael was alive, that this was just a sick fucking joke. But it wasn't, and I had to bury an empty box alone a few days later. Work gave me a few weeks off that were spent practically catatonic in our bed. People came by, friends, my parents, but they couldn’t bring him back to me or fill the empty hole that was left in my life. It's strange, you never realize how dependent you are on a person until they suddenly leave, no warning. It’s like a crutch being kicked out from under a missing limb, but you never stop falling.

But you don’t deserve my grief, my sadness, you already know what you did. You don’t want to know about my Michael, you want to know about the Michael you created. For Helen I will indulge you. I first saw the yellow door about three months after he passed. I was grieving, and that makes us so much more foolish. I had been walking home after work and I was lost in my own head, taking turns and alleys I hadn't ever seen before. I think I was around Westminster when it happened. Some men had tried to grab my purse, and I ran.

I heard their footsteps following me as I ran through the small, dark alleys, my shoes smacked against the slippery cobblestone and I was so afraid. I was ahead of them by a bit, and I started banging on doors, begging for someone to help me, but no one answered. No lights were on in any of the homes and I felt my heart hammering in my throat threatening to escape. Then I saw it, fused into a cobblestone fence. A bright yellow door at the end of the alley, just barely opened so a sliver of light peaked through. I ran towards it, running through it before slamming the door behind me. I never heard anything from the other side of the door.

When the adrenaline died off I noticed the hallway. The walls were an obnoxious mix of beige and yellow. There were these mirrors in the hallway, kind of like the mirrors at carnivals that distort your body and make you look different. Everything hurt to look at, and the lights were so bright I was getting a migraine. The place made me feel like I was on a LSD trip. That wasn't even the strangest thing though. In my peripheral vision I kept seeing… something. It only appeared where I couldn't focus on it. I tried to go back to the door I came from, but It wouldn't budge, and I never got a clear view of what was there so I started walking. After a few minutes of the endless nauseating hallways I saw another door.

I don't know what I expected when I opened the door, maybe more weird hallways, but never in a million years did I expect it to be my own apartment on the other side. I was frozen in place, shocked and so, so afraid when I felt something grip my shoulder strongly, jerking me forward and into my bedroom before the yellow door slammed shut with a bang. And when I looked back there was no door.

I told myself I was hallucinating. That something was wrong and it was all just a bad dream. I spent the whole night convincing myself I was going mental. Lying to myself worked, and I was so close to believing it when I saw the bruise on my skin under where I was shoved. Some part of that night had to have been true, I had no fucking clue what really happened.

Looking back it was so stupid of me. So fucking stupid but I needed to know what the hell happened that night. I started looking for danger, going into darker areas later in the night. I walked around with fake jewelry that looked nice enough from far away to entice some lowlife thief. I got robbed twice, got a few scrapes and bruises but the door didn’t show up again. Kept telling myself it was grief, maybe some disorder or another that stemmed from that first night.

I don't know how it was different from that night, but maybe it knew they wouldn't have hurt me too bad, so the door left me to my own devices, or maybe I’m just insane..

I wasn't expecting a door when I saw it next. There had been a break-in near my work, and a police officer came by to ask us some questions. The officer was this real brute of a man, tall enough that he had to duck to get into the shop. I don’t remember his name, but I didn't like the look of him. Of course I answered the questions, but the officer just started getting closer and closer. I was scared and closed my eyes for just a second, and when I opened them the yellow door was to my right, where a window was supposed to be. I bolted straight into the door, I don't even know if the officer followed me. But the door opened and the nauseating hallway was there again.

When I heard the door latch I took a moment to breathe. The strange figure appeared in my peripherals again, always disappearing when I tried to focus on it. I called out to it, asking where I was and what was going on. Looking down the hallway I saw something tap the mirror, like it was poking it from inside. I moved closer until I saw the horrible hand gripping the inside of the mirror. They weren't hands, hands don't have that many bones, hands aren't that long or sharp but… there they were. I didn’t even realize I was standing in front of it until I felt that strange weight on my shoulder again. I turned around quickly but nothing was there, and turning around I almost screamed. My reflection was there, but it wasn't alone. Whatever was connected to those claws resting on my shoulders looked almost like Michael. I could feel the weight on my shoulders, but the thing with Michael’s face was only in the mirror.

Michael wasn't originally a tall man, but now he almost had to bend over to fit his entire frame in the mirror. Michael didn't have hands like that, Michael’s smile was never that large, and most importantly, Michael wasn't alive. But here stood the thing that was and wasn't my husband. But when he said hello I just broke down. I told him everything and begged him to stay by my side. He said he had left, but that which both is and isn't him has been here. He said he would stay, and I said that I loved him. I don’t think he loved me, not the… the new version of him. I don't even think he had any emotions left at the end. I think there was just enough Michael to remember me.

I knew he wasn't exactly like my Michael, but he was close enough to make me happy. I knew he was hurting people, the hallways weren’t silent, and I heard screaming occasionally. There were a lot of mirrors in his doors, and sometimes I saw faces in them, real normal faces. I wanted him back, even as he had become he was still my Michael.

His door was in our… my apartment some days. Oftentimes it wouldn't even open, but it was just a comforting presence. His door, his shenanigans, it all just became my new life. He wasn't Michael, but he was enough like him to make the grief go away. If I fooled myself enough it almost felt normal again, like when we were first married. He didn't speak much, he just came and went like a house cat. I would speak to him, or at least his door when I was particularly lonely.

There were times he acted like his old self. Some days he would go through the motions of making coffee, only to stare at it in distaste before he disappeared.

I would see him standing in our apartment, just staring at a wall or going through one of his old routines. Some nights I would wake up to see him staring at me from the foot of our bed. I even found some of his gold hair on his pillow again. We lived that way for around seven years. In that time, nothing really changed, we just inhabited the same area. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than living without him, so I didn't mind.

A few months before he disappeared, again, he came back with blood on his hands. I tried to ask what happened, but all he would say was that he “poked the eye”, and I assume that means it's your lot. He seemed so pleased with himself so I didn't ask any more questions. That's when things got bad again.

I didn't see him for a few weeks, and I was worried, not even his door was here. I was so afraid he was gone again, and I worried I was insane again. I prayed, not to God this time, no, I prayed to the hallways and the ever changing fractals. I prayed to the spiral Michael mentioned. I offered worship and my love in exchange for any part of my lover back. And this time someone answered.

There was a figure in my room again, but it wasn't Michael. It was a woman I came to know as Helen. She was around the same height as my new Michael, and her voice was just as disorienting and alluring as my husband. I had to mourn Michael twice, but Helen filled in the gaps he left very well. Helen didn't know much about me, only that she felt pulled towards me, but she was determined to learn.

Helen tried to be a person more than Michael did at the end. Michael would never stay long, but Helen would spend hours in our apartment, just sitting or watching me. I would see her doors throughout my day, always in the most impossible places. She told me once it was just to see me smile, can you believe that? Michael did the same thing, and I adore her for this kindness. She is such a kind presence, and I care for her.

It's strange, in another life I think I could love her the way I love Michael. But this is not the life we are in, and my heart belongs to Michael. You took him from me, and I will never forgive you for that, your eyes will be blind one day and you will be left with nothing, just like me.

Statement… ends. Helen, why did she give this to me. What does this mean? I asked Elias, and apparently some of this is verified. Michael did pass away at this time, and he was married to one Mx. (Y/N) Shelley. I have elected not to reach out to their family, as if this is true, then reaching out would only end poorly. I… I need to talk to Helen.

#michael distortion x reader #michael shelley x reader #michael distortion #Michael shelley #helen distortion #the distortion #helen richardson #tma micheal shelly #tma michael #tma helen #tma #tma fanfic #tma fanwork

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themaribatpit · 3 years

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Jasonette July Day 12: Dare

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Dare Rated: T (Drink responsibly my friends) A/N: Maribat fangirl went to Uni in the UK. Most people thought they could outdrink the Americans, and that American beer tasted horrible. DC fanboy isn’t much of a drinker. Also we planned this earlier, but I saw this blog post from @ritacrow-blogrequesting something similar a few days ago, so here you go. I don’t know if you’re a fan of the in vino veritas/drunken confession trope, so feel free to skip it if you aren’t.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Tim asked hesitantly, as they gathered in the Wayne Manor lounge. “Because Pixie Pop here issued a challenge, and I don’t plan on letting her win”, Jason explained with a smirk. “All she said was ‘American drinking laws are bullshit’, and it’s not like you don’t know the name of every single bar in Gotham that doesn’t card.” Tim retorted. “She also said American beer tastes gross, so I don’t know why you brought Budweiser of all things”.

“She dared us to try and drink her under the table, and I’m sure as hell not backing down.” Jason hissed, and Tim decided that it was pointless trying to argue. The whole reason Tim and Steph were even involved was because they had just turned 18, which meant they were allowed to take part in this little drinking competition. Alfred was in the corner of the room keeping score, someone had to, considering the night they were about to have.

After they all gathered in the lounge, it was time for the challenge to begin. Barbara quietly sipped her glass of wine, curling into Dick’s side as she watched the movie playing on the TV. Jason and Dick had downed a bottle of beer each, waiting for Marinette to finish her first glass of wine. Marinette rested her back against Jason’s arm as she watched the movie play out, the night had just begun and she wasn’t about to let them win. She wouldn’t be able to look any non-American person in the eye if they knew she got out drunk by them. Marinette took in the soft glow of the lounge, alternating between leaning on the sofa or Jason’s leather-clad shoulder. It almost reminded her of her home city at night. She looked around at the people she had come to know, fairly certain she had the dopiest smile on her face at that moment.

She had arrived in Gotham City not long ago, and she was surprised to find that some of them welcomed her with open arms. Not all of them, obviously, some were a bit more welcoming than others. Bruce didn’t really trust her as a magic user, and Damian usually kept to himself. Preferring to be alone with his pets, Titus and Alfred (the cat). The others assured her not to take it too personally, that they are like that with everyone. With Jason, it was hard to tell what he thought about her. Dick was like an older brother to everyone, and in some ways reminded Marinette of Chat Noir, alot. While Barbara, Steph and Cass were like the sisters Marinette didn’t have. Tim was at least somewhat curious about her powers and how they worked, hard as he tried to fight it in the beginning.

With Jason, it was much harder to tell at times. He wasn’t quite as closed off as Damian, though sometimes she found him in the Wayne Manor library reading by the window. They had each other’s backs in a fight, and the fact that she was much smaller compared to him earned her the nickname “Pixie Pop”. They worked well together on missions, and there was plenty of friendly banter between them. There was almost a veneer of sarcasm and bravado.

The only time it showed any sign of falling was when his pit madness took over. Even then she was more focused on asking Plagg and Tikki for help, seeing as it was their magic causing this. There was no fixing it, but they had managed to help get it under control. Marinette was almost frustrated when he woke up to find her waiting at his bedside, after working around the clock to keep the madness at bay. The sounds of him screaming and thrashing around were still ringing in her ear, and the most that he could muster was “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you there, Pixie.” he drawled.

“Pixie, you there?” Jason gently poked her on the shoulder and she realised that she had been staring into her wine glass for a moment. She took a large gulp before setting the glass down on the table, the night had just begun.

As the night went on, Tim was not impressed with how beer tasted. “People actually drink this stuff for fun?” he muttered. He was starting to think Marinette might have a point about how American beer tasted. Sadly the old adage of “liquor before beer, you’re in the clear” meant that it was too late to try Steph’s approach. Steph was nursing a Jack Daniels and coke as she watched the film, letting that light of the TV screen dance in front of them.

Later into the night, Tim was getting tipsy at that point. Considering this was his first time drinking, Marinette gave him a smile that said “you get points for trying”. If Steph wasn’t drunk now, she was going to be feeling the effects very soon. She mostly drank spirits chased down with soda and juice. Barbara had already left after a couple of glasses of wine, deciding to leave the rest of them to this game. Jason and Dick had beer bottles lined up in front of them, almost as if they were competing with each other first. Marinette continued to leisurely sipped her wine, knowing that she was their final boss at that moment.

In the end, only Marinette and Jason were left in the lounge. Steph left had already left, and Tim followed not long after, Alfred helped get Dick into bed after he nearly passed out on the coffee table. “It’s you and me, Poxie Pip” Jason slurred, Alfred occasionally came in to check on them.

Marinette, who at this point was slightly tipsy, leaned in close and whispered in his ear “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll lose?”

“There’s worse ways to go, Pixie, trust me.” he laughed, Marinette gave him a very sad smile. He finished the last of his beer bottle before laying down on the sofa, resting his head on Marinette’s lap. Marinette was certain she could feel her face heating up, she could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she looked down at him.

“Are you sure my teeny tiny legs can support your big head?” she joked. Great, now she was doing it too. she looked away in hopes that he couldn’t see the blush on her face. She didn’t get Asian glow, but now she was really hoping she had that as an excuse.

“I’ve seen you lift goons twice your size and throw them across rooms,” he laughed “besides, this feels kinda nice.” he mumbled.

“Yeah but that was me as Ladybug, it’s also what keeps me from tripping over air and landing on my face.” she explained. She didn’t think her heart would be able to handle looking down to see one of the few times she saw him completely at peace. She was used to people who preferred her as her alter ego anyhow.

“I guess you win this round,” he slurred, Marinette still hadn’t moved his head from her lap. If anything, her free hand was working its way through his dark locks of hair. He smiled, letting himself be lulled to sleep by the simple yet kind gesture. “Serves me right,” he yawned, “getting drunk with a fairy princess.”

Marinette turned her attention back to the last of her wine, “there he goes again, making silly jokes like that.” she thought. “Especially with one as pretty as you,” he laughed. Marinette was about to get up at that moment, now he was just being ridiculous. “I like you...” were the last words he said before letting sleep take him.

It was everything Marinette could do not to drop her wine class on the floor in shock. Marinette thought she heard wrong. She shook her head, what did it matter? I mean, she had called her friends pretty loads of times before, it’s not like he said he loved her or anything. These were things that you said to friends all the time, right? At that moment, there was a knock on the door, Alfred came in and saw Jason asleep in Marinette’s lap. “I was just about to leave could you maybe help Jason get back to his room? That would be great thanks Alfred.” she quickly spluttered before dashing out of the lounge and down the hallway in search of an empty guest room to sleep in.

Jason tragically awoke the next morning with a hangover and a vague memory of what had happened the night before. He thought this was probably the very reason why Bruce did not drink. Alfred came in with a tray of chilli dogs and water, to nurse the hangover. “Thanks Alfred,” Jason groaned, “do I even wanna know what happened last night?”

“If you must know Master Todd, you won second place in last night’s drinking competition.” He explained, Jason sighed, Marinette wasn’t going to let him live that down. He still had to admit he was impressed with her. “Miss Dupain-Cheng seemed rather flustered after you compared the experience to ‘getting drunk with a fairy princess’ and confessed your admiration and affection for her.” It was all coming back to him now, and he was about to be sick. He told her that he thought she was pretty and that he liked her. He wasn’t wrong, but it probably didn’t sound as romantic coming from someone who was probably very drunk. He reached for the chilli dog, hoping that he would be able to keep it down. “In vino veritas indeed, or in birro veritas in your case”, Alfred quoted. Jason took a sip of water, still too stunned to speak. “If you still hold such affection for Miss Dupain-Cheng, might I suggest telling her when you’ve sobered up?” he suggested, giving Jason a slight sympathetic smile.

“I’ll try, thanks Alfred” he replied as Alfred left the room, leaving him to his thoughts.

A couple of days later, Marinette was sitting in her studio, drinking a warm mug of hot chocolate. Jason hadn’t called her or spoken to her since the party, and she had hoped that he had just drunkenly forgotten his little drunken confession. It wasn’t that Marinette didn’t reciprocate his feelings, it just felt like there was no point in putting stock in something he said while he was so very drunk. It almost made Marinette laugh a little at the thought. Her phone buzzed, it was a message from Jason: “Hey, you busy today? I’ve got something to tell you. Sober, this time”. Marinette smiled, maybe this time there was truth in the foul tasting American beer.

BONUS: The next morning in the Batcave... Tim: That tasted like actual vomit. Dick: It's an acquired taste, Baby Bird. Tim: Which is to say you were peer pressured into liking it.

#jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #ml x dc #maribat

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lailannajacobs · 3 years

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You’re too old for Surprises | GIBP VII

Pairing: fey!Loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You begin to wonder if this whole charade is going anywhere. You get an unwelcome surprise.

Warnings: lil bit of fluff

Word Count: 10k

A/N: so I guess my uni professors were right to tell me to learn how to be more concise because apparently I’ve written another chapter where I’ve rambled on for almost 11k. I hope you enjoy, despite the length, I kinda like this one <3

Good Intentions and Broken Promises | Chapter Seven

You’d learned three new things about Loki over the past couple weeks, none of which would get you any closer to the Hand. One: Loki hated ladybugs. Why? He’d refused to elaborate. Two: as a child he’d cast a spell on the councilmen that had made them itchy everywhere — and he’d been insistent on the word everywhere — for a week. And three: if ever you needed to kill him, you knew that he was allergic to honey. Was any of that going to help you convince the council that you were madly in love? According to Loki and Wanda it would. You still didn’t believe them.

“You know,” Loki paused, his fingers toying with the end of one of your braids, “it doesn’t seem fair.”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t just ignore him. Not in public at least, “what doesn’t seem fair?”

There were too many witnesses in the small market just outside of the palace not to settle into the act, even if most of them weren’t paying either of you any attention. Just because their opinion didn’t matter like the councilmen’s did, didn’t mean that word might not get to those old moldy rats if you did ignore him.

You nodded your thanks to the jeweller and walked away from possible prying eyes and ears. His fingers fell away, brushing your bare arm on the way down.

“What doesn’t seem fair,” you asked.

“The way you still haven’t told me anything about yourself,” he sighed dramatically, “I must know something about you or people are going to think that Wanda knows you better than I do. And that simply cannot do.”

You slowed down, realizing that you had stomped off without him and looped your arm through his, “I’ve told you lots about myself.”

“I can count everything you’ve told me on one finger. One. Finger,” he repeated, “not hand. Finger.”

You stopped. You’d lied. You’d told him nothing. He shouldn’t have been able to count anything on any finger.

“I suppose two now. That worried look on your face tells me that there’s something important you’re keeping to yourself that you don’t want me to know. So I supposed that’s something else I know about you now,” he said cheerfully.

You scolded at him and didn’t elaborate on what that thing could be, “so what do you know?”

He grinned, “that you hate this place and would rather be anywhere else.”

You almost laughed with relief, “see, you clearly know me so well, why would you even need to know anything else? After all, you know you love me and isn’t that enough?”

“Always,” he chuckled, “especially when you say it with such conviction.”

It was all you could do to keep from glaring at him. He’d never been shy at pointing out how pathetic you were at keeping in character anywhere other than in front of the councilmen. Before you’d gotten caught by Odin, you were a soldier and more importantly, a bodyguard. You weren’t meant for niceties.

But Loki was.

He was good at this. Almost too good. He knew the right things to say, the right time for a smile, and the right time for light touches and prolonged looks. Seven hells, if his act didn’t completely drop to the irritating prick he was whenever you were alone, you’d probably find yourself believing the act too.

“But I supposed it is fair in the end,” Loki continued on with his blissful little speech.

You knew you shouldn’t ask but you found yourself doing it anyways, “and why’s that?”

“Because you need the extra help with all…this. By my count, you’re losing sweetheart.”

You almost jerked back, but you knew that would be proving his point. Especially that you knew he was only goading you to try and learn more about you. Instead, you stopped him with a hand to his chest and pushed him into a secluded corner of the market.

“You do know that there’s no point in putting on a show if no one is around to see you, right?” he smirked, peering over your heard as if he could find a witness. When it appeared that he didn’t see anyone, he whispered, “it only works if people actually think we’re up to something scandalous.”

His cocky tone said it all. It wasn’t only by his count. You really were losing. But that didn’t mean you had to keep on losing.

You smiled sweetly, “if you looked any more eager, Loki, I might think you’ve forgotten that none of this is real.”

“If I’d forgotten that this isn’t real,” he drawled, eyes wickedly bright, “I wouldn’t be the one with my back pressed up against the wall.”

You looked down to where your forearm was pressed against the width of this chest, keeping his back to the wall. And the you realized how close you were standing. There was only the length of your bicep between you, and with your chin tilted upward to look into his eyes, you could feel his breath on your cheek when he chuckled. The whole situation tightened something in your chest, but you ignored it. You couldn’t back off now. Not when you had a plan to put you in the lead.

Keeping your arm where it was, you lifted your other hand and ruffled his hair. He shot you a bemused, but slightly intrigued look. Even though you had him against the wall, he could have left if he really wanted to, but thankfully, he stayed.

You used your most condescending voice when you said, “aw. You actually think that if this were real I wouldn’t be standing exactly where I am now? Cute.”

He moved so fast, the only reason you knew what was happening was because you were expecting it. You’d been sparring more and more often lately, but you’d realized almost immediately that — even if he held back somewhat to keep the fights interesting — you never won any of your matches unless it was truly earned. He liked to lose as much as you did. And you’d basically just him a liar.

Your back was suddenly against the wall, but instead of his arm on your chest, he’d boxed you in with a hand beside your head and the other beside your shoulder. He was even closer than you’d been before, and your head brushed back along the tiles of the wall as you tipped it upward to look at him. The motion almost closed the distance between you so you dipped your chin back down again, feeling your hair get caught in the scratchy stone tiles.

“If this were real,” he whispered, lips practically brushing against your ear, “it wouldn’t matter where I was standing.”

You tilted your head from side to side, “actually…when you think about it, it would make more sense for you to be standing there.”

Loki leaned back slightly, brows furrowed. The sight made you want to smile. So you did.

“I mean, if anyone were to pass by, you’d be shielding me from prying eyes,” you continued, speaking as though you were talking about the weather, “and they would get the benefit of seeing Asgard’s royal ass. Seems to me like it would be something they’d talk about.”

“Clever,” he said dryly but came back with a sly, “so you think my ass is worth talking about?”

You patted him twice on the chest, not failing to notice how hard it was, “if you think so.”

You slipped out under his arm and skipped back out onto the street, unbuttoning a couple random buttons on the loose shirt you were wearing. Loki caught up in a few quick strides, but the moment you stepped out onto the busy street, he noticed that something was off. You were getting too many stares, most of which were pared with slight, knowing smirks.

He waited until you’d turned down a smaller, less populated alley to ask, “what did you do?”

You were seconds away from the palace doors and you couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed.

All you said was, “take a look for yourself.”

He stepped to the side, using a shop window as a mirror. His hair was a mess and his shirt was wrinkled and pulled out of his pants, a move you’d managed to do while he was too busy changing your positions. With your shirt unbuttoned and you hair messy from the stone wall you’d made sure to rub up against, the people who’d seen you walk out of that dark, secluded corner had only been able to assume one thing.

He closed his eyes, his head shaking slightly to the side as if he couldn’t believe it. Letting out a puff of air that might have been a laugh, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. At least he seemed to take defeat well.

You patted him on the chest again, “I believe that makes us even.”

Without waiting to see how he’d react, you spun on your heel and entered the palace.

You were still smiling when you made it back to your room. It felt good to win. Especially when it only increased your chances of getting the Hand. It was also a nice reminder that you could still get the job done even if your short temper had been the reason you never stayed long around the councilmen. Obviously the townspeople weren’t councilmen, but it was practice. And you were getting better. Maybe you’d actually be able to do this.

After a quick change into your riding clothes, you were back in the hallway, ready for a long afternoon of fresh air and freedom before the excruciating council meeting Loki had warned about this morning. You didn’t get far.

A tall, striking fey woman with shoulder length raven hair stood in the middle of the hallway with a hand on her hip as if she’d been waiting for you. Her slick sparring outfit showcased Asgard’s green and black colours, so intricately designed there was only one person who could have designed something that looked like it belonged to a warrior queen.

You stopped, knowing exactly who you’d come face to face with.

Her lips pulled into a terrifying version of Loki’s knowing grin. Even if no one would have mentioned anything about her, the two of them looked so similar, there was no mistaking that this was the women trying to steal the crown. This was Loki’s sister.

She strode down the hallway, gliding over the floor as if she had the power to make it bend to her will. You knew it wasn’t possible, but you’d heard enough councilmen gushing on and on about how powerful and incredible Hela was that a small part of you wondered if it could be.

She stopped too close for comfort, her hand lashing out as if she were about to strike you. Only your years of training kept you from flinching. Instead, she took a loose strand of your hair in her fingers, tugging on it until it fell back into place.

“Pretty,” she hummed, “I can see why he likes you.”

You shrugged, “that’s one of the reasons.”

“And what are the others?” she asked, brow arched in cool disdain.

You didn’t have an answer for her but it didn’t matter. If there was anything Nat had taught you, it was that court was a game of non-answer answers anyways, “ask him yourself. I don’t speak for the king. He’s more than capable of doing that himself.”

You thought for a moment she might correct you, but she wasn’t petty like the councilmen. She wouldn’t be easily taunted.

“Hela, are you trying to terrorize my love and future queen of Asgard?” Loki asked, appearing by your side as if you’d conjured him by name. But you supposed if the walls had ears, maybe you had, “I thought you had hells hounds to tend to. Or perhaps a bat cave to furnish?”

She laughed, but the sound was dry and humourless, “she doesn’t seem terrorized to me.”

“There was a reason I said trying,” he said, a cunning smirk on his lips.

“Always so clever little brother.” Her words should have been a compliment but they sounded more like a bad omen to your ears.

“Always.”

They stared at each other, a million different things passing wordlessly between the siblings that you couldn’t even begin to understand. Loki leaned over to the side so that your shoulders were brushing, but with his hands stuffed into his pockets like usual, it was the extent of your contact.

Finally Hela huffed and shook her head, “I should have known your vicious little pet had warned you. That abomination makes things a lot easier for you, doesn’t it? Seems you can’t beat me in a fair fight.”

“Gamora is her name,” his voice was cold and chilling: the voice of a king, “use it.”

“I know what you’re doing here,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “it won’t work.”

You did your best to keep your face neutral but her words slammed into you like a knife. If she knew what this was and could convince the council of it…you shuddered at the thought.

“Have a nice afternoon, Hela. Enjoy your scheming,” Loki dismissed her with a turn so that he was facing you instead, acting like a wall between the two of you, “if you’re done chatting with my sister, Wanda would like to speak with us.”

He offered you a little grin, but it seemed strained at the edges. You smiled back, knowing it was the appropriate reaction but also because it was a relief to have a way out of this conversation.

“Yes,” you answered and looked around Loki to stare her straight in the eyes, “we’re done here.”

You weren’t going to back down. You’d faced far more horrible things than this woman. You certainly weren’t going to underestimate her, but you weren’t about to let her push you around either.

Her face broke into another terrifying smile that made your hackles rise, but you didn’t look away.

The smile dropped slightly and she scoffed, “I imagine he’s told you what you’re about to walk into. If not, enjoy.”

On that ominous note, you shared one last long look before she strode past, practically barreling into you. You sighed when she turned the corner. She didn’t look like she’d let Loki take the crown easily. Or at all.

“So,” you turned your attention back to him, “that’s your sister.”

“It is,” he remarked, "I’m surprised it took her this long to make an appearance.”

You scratched your lower back, “I’m glad.”

“You handled her well.”

He offered his arm and you took it, walking in step with him down the hall, “would she have eaten me if I hadn’t?”

“We don’t — Oh,” he ran a hand through his hair, a sheepish little smile on his face when he realized you were kidding. You’d rarely seen him so distracted, “you handle this life well, even if you are a terrible actress. It’s almost as if you’re meant for it.”

You stumbled but managed to use his arm to right yourself so that it barely showed, “you’re only saying that because of what happened this morning.”

He gave you a little shrug, apparently not wanting to elaborate.

“This life isn’t something I’d wish on anyone,” you finally said.

“This life on Asgard?” he stopped to look at you as if your answer really mattered, “or this life at the head of the realm?”

You pulled him along, avoiding that intense gaze, “if you keep fishing for answers I’m going to stop talking to you. About anything.”

He grinned, “I believe it’s called getting to know the person you’re about to make queen.”

“I thought we went over this, this morning,” you tucked yourself in closer as gazed up into those emerald eyes, “we’re madly in love. Your questions are redundant and fruitless.”

“Interesting point,” he murmured.

You put more distance between you, “so we can move on then.”

“Not exactly,” he said with a sigh.

This time you were the one to pull him to a stop, “why are you suddenly pushing this?”

He cocked a brow, but something was off. His usually smooth forehead was wrinkled, his jaw set. You hadn’t noticed this morning, but you hadn’t really been looking. Now, you couldn’t ignore it.

“What aren’t you telling me, Loki?” you pushed on, “what changed?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, almost squeezing your arm against his torso as a weird shimmering feeling surrounded you, “there are many things I’m not telling you. A king has many secrets.”

“Prince,” you corrected, “I wouldn’t be here if you were still king.”

“My point exactly,” he shot back, “I need to know you to get my title back. I miss it.”

“You miss the power,” the words came out as a statement, but he wasn’t the only one fishing for answers.

“Of course.”

The answer was almost too quick, but it was hard not to believe him knowing the extent he was going through to get it back.

“And I’m sure you’ve never stopped thinking about your end of the bargain,” he continued, “I’d think you’d want to be better prepared too.”

You hated it. Hated when he was right. But sharing things with him would be walking a fine line between not giving anything away and lying just enough to keep everything straight. But you could do it. For Nat. Always for Nat.

“Fine,” you grunted, shoving past him.

“Fine what?” he called after you.

You turned, crossing your arms over your chest, “you get one random bit of information about me — of my choosing — a day. Nothing more.”

“Seems reasonable,” something that looked almost like relief flashed across his face but it was replaced too quickly with a smirk, “would you like one in return?”

“One what?”

“Bit of information.”

“If you think it’s absolutely necessary,” you huffed.

You stomped down the hallway, itching to go riding.

“YN,” he called.

You stopped.

“I had come to find you for Wanda. She really did want to see you.”

You tilted your head back, looking up at the gilded ceiling, “I thought that was an excuse.”

He caught up to you, “she wanted to see you more specifically. She only asked me to come along because she wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He motioned to your face, “and that was probably the look she was worried about.”

“So what?” you snapped, feeling your temper rise, “she thought you’d be able to calm me down if I didn’t like what she had to say? That because I’m doing this, you control me?”

You could hear the words and knew that you were probably getting worked up over nothing, but you were tired of keeping everything inside. And you could yell at Loki without losing your life. So why wouldn’t you?

He took a step back though you seriously doubted it was because he was afraid, “she asked me to come because Gamora recommended it. If you’d like to know more about her reasons, you’ll have to ask her yourself because she didn’t tell me anything.”

You still wanted to punch him but that didn’t mean you weren’t curious enough to ask, “who’s Gamora?”

His eyes lit up, “a very important but terrifying part of my court. You’ll meet her soon enough.”

You could have ignored him and walked off, but Wanda had been nothing but kind to you. Finding out what she wanted was the least you could do. So despite your better judgement, you motioned for him to lead the way.

You’d assumed you were going to the library, but the hallways were unfamiliar, losing their gaudy decor until they were nothing but grey walls.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Will this count as my one piece of information I owe you today?” asked Loki with a smirk.

“You’re a prick.”

“I’m glad you’ve noticed.”

He nodded for me to go ahead and ask.

“You’re king, or at least you were, but you’re acting as Wanda’s lackey, you apparently take orders from this Gamora person and I saw,” you paused, wondering if you should give yourself away like this, “an angel yelling at you the other day in the hallway as if you were a wayward soldier.”

He raised a brow, shooting you a sidelong glance, “So you were spying on me?”

“Answer the question.”

“That wasn’t a question,” he said.

“But you know what I’m asking.”

He didn’t answer at first and you weren’t sure he would. When you looked up at him, he was staring off into the distance, almost as if he was physically looking for those people.

“My court isn’t exactly…typical,” he shrugged, “I suppose I should tell you a little about them before you meet them but…”

“I’ve already met them,” you finished.

He shook his head firmly, “you’ve met Wanda.”

You thought back to the council meetings you’d gone to, knowing you would have remembered a friendly face, “he’s not on the council.”

You wondered how distracted Loki was to have forgotten that.

“The council isn’t my court,” said Loki, something about his tone telling you that there was an important distinction between the two.

For a moment you weren’t quite sure what he meant, and then it clicked. There had been rumours on the continent of the extremely powerful court that ruled Asgard, but the councilmen had never quite seemed to match their description. But if Loki’s court wasn’t the council then…

“The Court of Mischief,” you murmured.

A fond smile bloomed on his face that caught you off guard. It lit up his face, making his features seem a little less harsh and a lot more boyish. Annoyingly, you felt your remaining anger melt away at the sight of it.

“In my defence,” he said quickly, “we were young and stupid when we came up with the name.”

You grinned, “so the only thing that’s changed is that you’ve gotten old?”

He let out a little laugh, “there’s no cure for stupid.”

You looked, really looked at his face, the smooth planes and sharp angles that barely seemed older than yours despite the hundreds of years you knew he’d lived.

“Seems there’s a cure to getting old though.”

He tilted his head as if he was trying to get a better look at you now, “we get old too. We just age differently. If I were human, I think we’d be about the same age.”

You snorted, “I doubt that. How old are you exactly?”

“One thousand two hundred and seventy six,” he paused, eyes drifting up in thought, “and three moons if you really want to be precise.”

You shook your head at his proud little smirk and did the math, having been taught the biological differences between the races as a child. By the time you figured out how similar you were in age, you realized that the decisions you were blaming him for during the war, couldn’t have been his. He wasn’t old enough to have been king at the time. That would have been his father. The destruction of your realm might have been his family’s fault, but he wasn’t to blame for everything that had happened.

The thought struck you harder than you thought it would and you tried not to stare at him, wondering if you were still breathing. Thankfully you heard yourself mutter, “close enough.”

“Is that a more acceptable age difference to you then?” he asked with a grin as if he hadn’t noticed the way you were suddenly gasping for breath.

You planned on keeping it that way. You forced a smile as said as lightheartedly as you could, “well, I still think you’re old mushrooms but yes, much more acceptable.”

“Good,” he whispered, “because for a moment there you looked like you were about to faint. But I’m sure that’s what happens when you try to do arithmetic using such large numbers.”

So he had noticed. Of course he had. Then you realized he was giving you an out. For all of his prying this morning, he was giving you an out now. You were so thankful that you forgot to smack him for the comment.

“Exactly,” you were to surprised to say anything else.

You stood there, staring at each other until a crash sounded in a nearby room. Loki took a step back and motioned for you to follow. You touched your ears, finding their rounded tips itchy, and sighed. What good was a longer life span when you were still running out of time? You’d give away some of your own years if it meant keeping the pendent on your chest from getting colder and whiter.

Loki pursed his lips, looking like he was about to say something else when an old noble fey bustled down the hall, his fey agility dampened with age.

Loki pursed his lips, looking like he was about to say something else when an old noble fey bustled down the hall, his enhanced agility dampened with age.

“Looking forward to the first trial, Prince Loki!” He said, voice jolly as he gave Loki a clap on he back. Loki bristled at the touch but the fey didn’t notice, which made you wonder how he’d survived this long with such poor survival instincts, “I know it must feel a little archaic to you, who’s never seen one, but I must say, the first trial has always been a favourite of mine. Always great to watch!”

Sterling nodded, never once taking his hands out of his pockets, “we’re excited as well.”

You nodded along, wondering what trials you were supposed to attend. Loki hadn’t mentioned anything, but you figured it probably wasn’t important when all you had to do was sit in a comfy booth and watch.

“I can’t say we’ve ever had a human go through one, let alone all three,” he continued turning toward you, “how are you feeling about it, my dear?”

Like you wanted to stab something.

Loki, though he wasn’t avoiding your eyes, didn’t look the most confident. And with the two fey staring at you, one curious the other embarrassed, you finally realized that Loki hadn’t told you half of what your deal entailed. Suddenly Hela’s departing comment made sense.

So actually, you felt like you wanted to stab multiple somethings. Or simply one particular someone.

“Oh a little nervous,” you said with your best court smile, impressed it hadn’t turned to a snarl, “it seems like these trials came out of the blue. I wish I’d had more time to prepare.”

He took my hand in his and gave it a little pat, “I can imagine it must feel that way, Ms. YN. However, I’m sure the two of you will do just fine.”

With a slight nod in Loki’s direction, he wished you both a nice evening and left down the hall.

“Trials?” you whispered.

He shot out his hands as if he thought yo were about to explode.

“Trials?” you repeated, a little louder this time.

“YN I can—”

“I can’t believe you!” you punched his arm, thinking, when he didn’t even wince, that he should be thankful you hadn’t whipped out your dagger, “you said that all I had to do was convince a council that we were in love by the orange moon. You hells scum! You didn’t say anything about trials!”

He took a step forward then thought the better of it, rocking back on his heels, “I know, but I was hoping you’d get acclimated to Asgard first. I was going to tell you.”

“Were you? Or did you just not want me to disagree and leave you stranded?” I snapped back.

“With the book on the line, I was sure you wouldn’t,” his voice was clipped, the first sign that his anger was rising to meet your own, “I was simply trying to be considerate.”

“Considerate my ass,” you growled, “you’re a coward.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything. Good. Let him stew in his poor decisions.

You crossed your arms, knowing that as long as they were tucked under your armpits, you wouldn’t be tempted to reach for your dagger, “so when is this first trial?”

He hesitated as if you might be talking to someone else, but seemed to realize he was the only person around. He sighed, “tomorrow.”

“For Ceridwen’s sake!” you yelled, “you were going to tell me this when? When we were walking into the trail and I’d be seconds away from being taken by surprise?”

You could feel the control on your abilities slipping quickly, an overwhelming itchy feeling blooming at the base of your spine. You began counting windows, desperately trying to rein in your power. The window counting was useless. Only the sound of a distinctly animal snarl kept you in check, washing you with thoughts of Nat.

Loki cocked his head at the sound, looking at you with far more interest than you wanted or needed. You strongly considered punching him to distract him.

“Do you even realize what’s at stake?” you demanded. The sound wasn’t much more human.

His unnerving staring never subsided. You wanted to rip him to shreds.

“I didn’t realize this was so important to you.”

“If I’m going through all this, what do you think?” you spat and turned away.

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” he called after you.

You stopped and squeezed your eyes shut. You took in another useless attempt at a calming breath.

“Let me guess,” you said after a few more breaths, “the trials have something to do with what Wanda wanted to speak to me about.”

“Yes. She’s a few doors down.”

You rolled your shoulders back and turned, “I swear on Ceridwen, Gwendion and every other one of the gods that I’m going to stab you someday very, very soon.”

“When this is all over, I’ll give you one free stab,” he said.

“If you’re lucky, I won’t stab you before we meet up with Wanda.”

You stopped at the open door to what looked like a servant’s Kitchen the smell of baked bread wafted out to greet you. The four pairs of eyes inside were already looking up as if they’d heard you approach. Of course they’d heard. Other than Wanda, none were human.

She offered you a small smile from her position on a barstool, pencil drumming absentmindedly on the notepad she had on her lap. You wanted to stay focused on a friendly face, but the woman sitting up on the counter radiated so much power that it was impossible not to.

She appeared rather average in height and other than her green skin that marked her as a descendant of the earth elementals, you would have described her as a regular soldier. That was, if you’d had no sense of awareness. Something lurked behind her eyes that you’d never seen before and you could have bet your life on it not being from any of the 13 realms. There was only one person that Loki had described as terrifying. That Hela had described as an abomination. This had to be Gamora. When she caught you staring, her lips pulled into a razor-sharp grin, but she didn’t say anything.

The Dark Elf you’d seen in the courtyard weeks ago sat in the chair below, booted feet propped up casually on the table in front of him. Up close the prosthetic arm looked even more impressive, a glinting black series of metallic plates. He grinned as if he could tell exactly how you felt about the woman sitting behind him. The smile lit up his already handsome face, but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the thought that the only way for a Dark Elf to have lost an arm was for it to have been ripped off.

The other woman in the room, the angel, stood in the corner, dark blue wings tucked in tightly behind her. Despite their massive army, the angels were depicted as calm and peaceful protectors of the realms. She was nothing like that. Her features were sharp and brutal, her eyes were harsh. She looked like a woman who picked fights — and won them. She was the angel you’d seen yelling at Loki the other day.

“Everyone, I want you to officially meet YN,” Loki nodded toward you as if they hadn’t been staring at you already, “YN, this is everyone. Wanda Maximoff you already know, the woman on the counter is Gamora, sitting is Bucky Barnes and brooding in the corner is Nebula.”

You stared at Wanda as if seeing her for the first time. There was only one Wanda Maximoff in the 13 realms that was of any importance, and that was the Wanda that was heir to the Zephys throne. She’d defected before you were born, her twin brother leading the realm since he came of age. No one really knew where she’d gone, but it seemed she’d been right in front of you all along. Wanda shot you a tight smile. You weren’t ready to return it. You understood why she hadn’t said anything, but you couldn’t help feel a little betrayed. Especially that she — and apparently the rest of them — knew about your ruse and hadn’t said anything.

“So,” you stared them all down one by one, “you must be the Court of Mischief.”

“Did you really have to tell her?” Groaned the Dark Elf — Bucky.

“Unfortunately she already knew. It wasn’t my doing,” Loki motioned for you to take a seat anywhere, “and speaking of things she knows, she knows,”

There wasn’t a free seat where you could clearly see everyone in the room and the exit so you stayed where you were, leaning against the doorframe.

“About time. Pulling this whole thing off would have been hard even if you’d told her about it the moment she broke in,” something about his voice told you that this wasn’t the first time he said this, “it’s not like it was going to be anywhere near easy…especially with her looking like she’d about to gauge your eyes out.”

“That’s love,” you grunted.

“When the council asks, maybe say it with a little more conviction,” he offered with a smirk.

“I can’t help it if there are several other things I’d rather say with more conviction.”

He tilted his head as if he was listening to something. The the lights flickered as if the word darkened around him for a moment, but it was gone before you could think anything of it.

His smile was firmly in place when he said, “get whatever you have to say out of your system now, YN. Or at least do it while I can watch you cuss out Loki.”

“Where should I start?”

He inspected Loki, his blue eyes lighting up, “why don’t you start with his hair. He looks like he spent the past year living in the woods on his own.”

You looked over at Loki’s mess of wavy dark hair that fell to his shoulders. You actually thought it suited him, not that you’d ever say it aloud.

“Like a moss troll,” you agreed instead, “do you think I should cut it?”

He leaned further back in his chair as if he was trying to get a better look at Loki, “can you cut hair?”

“No.”

He grinned, “then absolutely.”

His smile was infectious and you couldn’t help but return it. There was something easygoing and familiar about him that, for some reason you couldn’t put your finger on, reminded you of Nat. It was probably the reason you instantly liked him.

“Sweetheart,” Loki drawled, “if you wanted to run your fingers through my hair so badly, all you had to do was ask.”

He was sitting in a posture that was almost identical to Bucky’s, with his hands behind his head as if he were lounging in a bed. They seemed to take up most of the kitchen with their tall, square bodies and long limbs that they should have been intimidating if it weren’t for the boyish smirks on their faces. You’d never seen Loki this relaxed. Actually, when you thought about it, the whole room was missing the air of tension that seemed to fill the rest of the palace. You wanted to let yourself give into the feeling, but you couldn’t forget what you were doing and who was waiting for you in Niflheim.

“Would you really let me that close to your head with a pair of scissors?” You asked, your earlier promise fresh in your mind though you weren’t feeling quite so stabby anymore.

His green eyes focused on yours, some of that playfulness gone. It was replaced by something you couldn’t quite name, but something you couldn’t look away from either, “Yes. I trust you.”

The rest of the room seemed to fall away until Loki was the only thing in focus. You searched his expression for anything that might tell you whether or not he was lying, but his face gave nothing away. You couldn’t say that you trusted him, but then again, if you were going through with this bargain, then some part of you had to believe him.

“There are scissors in the drawer behind me,” announced Wanda happily, breaking the strange staring contest you were having.

“Do I need to remind you all that the first trial is tomorrow?” the angel — Nebula — barked, grabbing everyone’s attention, “you’re never going to pull this off if we don’t start taking this seriously.”

Everyone still had smiles on their faces and Wanda’s hand was still in the drawer until Gamora whispered, “she’s right.”

The whole room froze faster than if she if she’d screamed the words, killing the conversation as if it had never happened.

“The first trial is harder than the second, barely easier than the final one,” Nebula continued, pushing off the wall. She stopped at the table, palms flat on the worn out surface, looking between you and Loki, “if you fail this, Hela will take the throne.”

Bucky tilted his head, looking up at Gamora, “how set in stone is their failure?”

Gamora’s eyes clouded over, but it was so quick you almost missed it, “it’s still blurry.”

Loki’s court let out an audible sigh. You didn’t understand much of what had just happened, but you figured by their relief that you weren’t completely doomed. You also knew that you would have to ask Loki later if Gamora was a seer. Now wasn’t the time but it was something you should know.

“Anyone have any ideas of what the trial might be?” Loki asked.

“How about we start with telling me what to expect instead?” you interjected, unable to keep the annoyance from your voice.

“We can’t tell you much,” Wanda said with a sad smile, “sometimes it can be something big and life-threatening and other times it can be as boring as two people sitting in a room. Officially, the trials call for a Seer to decide each trial, but there hasn’t been one since,” she stuttered and took in a deep breath, “since Queen Freya.”

It was no secret who she was talking about, so there was only one reason she could have had for pausing. You didn’t know what it was, but it couldn’t be good. And even though you were still pissed at Loki, for some reason you didn’t want to make things more uncomfortable for him, so you took the opportunity to get more information about the possible Seer in the room.

You nodded toward Gamora, “why can’t she do it?”

Gamora raised her brows, dark eyes zeroing in on you. It almost made you regret having the audacity to ask the question.

“Now, now, Gam,” Bucky grinned up at her, “it was an innocent question. No need to kill her with your stare.”

Your eyes must have widened because Wanda added, “she can’t actually do that.”

“Anymore,” Gamora whispered ominously.

Loki shot them all pointed looks and turned back to you, “Gamora isn’t officially a citizen of Asgard. Even if she wanted to do it, she couldn’t.”

You nodded, glad to have your suspicions confirmed, “and how long are the trials supposed to last?”

“Anywhere between a few minutes and a full day,” Wanda tapped her pen a few times, “though most of my research showed that a few hours was the average. There hasn’t been a series of trials in any of our lifetimes. So we can’t tell you for sure.”

“How many cases have there been?” you asked, “you people live thousands of years.”

“Five,”

“And how dangerous is it?”

“Only one couple died,” she answered grimly.

Her words didn’t ease the knot in your stomach, but they didn’t make it any worse either, “that’s not bad odds.”

“That couple was fey, not human,” Wanda pointed out, “you’re coming in at a disadvantage, YN.”

All Loki had said was that you’d have to convince the council you were in love, but the trials weren’t designed for someone like you — or at least the person you had to be while you were here. You weren’t meant to get through this. You looked down, your eyes catching the small bump where the frigid pendant lay on your chest. But maybe you still had enough of the real you left to make it out of this alive.

“I can’t afford to lose,” you said, “what do I need to do?”

“This might be a silly question,” YN asked once they’d filled her in as much as they could, “but is it safe to be talking about this here? You told me the walls have ears.”

Loki ignored the look Nebula shot his way and explained, “the kitchen is warded with spell magic. Only the people in this kitchen can hear what we’re saying.”

She sighed, blowing loose strings of hair from her face. He wasn’t fooled into thinking she wasn’t still angry with him, even if she smiled along with Bucky and Wanda from time to time. She’d never even moved from her spot by the door. YN was a mixed bag of emotions with a knot so tight that Loki felt like he hadn’t even come close to unraveling it. But she never bothered to hide her anger from him, which meant that he caught every glare sent his way in between the smiles and the questions she shot at his court.

Loki wouldn’t breath easy until the first trial was over, but now that she knew about the trials, he was starting to think that maybe his half baked plan wasn’t completely insane. And she kept impressing him at every turn, so maybe they really could do this. He couldn’t afford to otherwise. He didn’t know what Hela was planning, but Gamora had warned him that it would end in war. Loki owed it to his people — and his brother — to make sure that didn’t happen.

“So that’s it then?” she asked, “there’s nothing more we can do until the trials?”

“That’s it,” said Wanda.

Wanda had taken to wandering around the room as they’d helped YN get ready, and she’d only become more of a whirlwind of movement since. The cool breeze that accompanied her wasn’t unwelcome in the heat of the kitchen, but something else was on her mind, that much was clear. Loki wasn’t sure that it was something they’d get into while YN was around.

Another bread roll floated over to Wanda as if she’d forgotten that she still hadn’t gotten to the one that was in her hand.

YN stared at the floating roll suspiciously, “whose magic is that?”

Wanda snapped out of her thoughts as if she’d been physically poked, “mine. Why?”

“That’s elemental magic, right? Not fey?”

It still annoyed Loki that he knew next to nothing about YN, but one thing he knew for sure was that her awe and confusion regarding magic was real. Wherever she had come from couldn’t have had much. Which was basically every realm. Well that narrowed it down.

“Oh,” Wanda smiled, seeming pleased to start a conversation to which she actually knew the answer. Loki knew there hadn’t been much of that lately, “yes, elemental. Fey magic is complicated and I don’t use much of it. My own abilities work fine for me.”

Her eyes widened slightly and she whispered, “so anyone can harness magic…”

“To an extent,” Loki interrupted before she could get her hopes up, “it depends on how resilient the body. Harnessing magic is draining and certain races can handle magic better than others.”

“So what you’re saying is that I can’t use magic,” she huffed, scratching her ear.

Loki wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her the truth, but they needed to start trusting each other more. At least a little bit. What better way than this?

“No, you can, but only simple spells that won’t take a toll on your body,” at the sight of her furrowed brows, he continued, “when you harness magic that’s beyond your physical abilities to contain, it takes from the body instead. Depending on the difference, it could kill you.”

She nodded but stayed quiet.

“On that lovely note, don’t you two have somewhere to be?” Bucky asked.

“Unfortunately yes. Nebula, before I go, we should talk,” Loki knew the answer to his next question before he asked it, “YN, do you want an escort back to your room?”

“No,” she scoffed then seemed to realize how harsh it sounded and sucked in a long, slow breath. If anything, he could say that she was trying now. He almost preferred it the other way around.

“Actually, I was planning on making soup and I could use a hand while Sterling’s busy,” said Wanda.

YN paused then shrugged.

Wanda offered her arm, dipping her chin slightly so that only Sterling could see as they left the kitchen. His team was looking after her, at least that was one small mercy.

Bucky stood, his control over the Brollochan loosening now that YN was gone. They pooled around his ankles and swirled upward, pleased that their leash was no longer so tight, cooling and sucking the joy from the air around them. But Bucky’s back was straight, shoulders back, his chin lifted as he approached, the weight of his curse only apparent in the leeches that clung to him.

“I’m headed to Nidavellir. I got word from the Dwarves that Hela had a meeting with the Dwarven King and I want to know what she was doing,” he said.

Loki nodded and Bucky vanished before his eyes, leaving an eerie feeling behind.

Nebula crossed her arms, staring daggers at him, unflinching, as always, in the wake of the Brollochan.

“Nebula,” he began.

She didn’t let him try to come up with an excuse, “you’re being reckless. That human isn’t prepared for this and it’s not all her fault.”

Loki knew he probably could have handled the whole situation better, but he just didn’t know how to. He ignore the feeling of helplessness creeping in, telling himself that it was the after effects of the Brollochan.

“I know. But maybe you can help her.”

Nebula’s eyes narrowed, “Help her with what?”

“Defending herself.”

Her wings flared out and she grit her teeth to pull them back in, “I’m commander of your army, Loki. We both know a war is coming. I don’t have time to train her.”

“And you think I do?” he countered.

“I know you do.”

Obviously she hadn’t bought his pathetic excuse of a lie, but if he couldn’t lie to her, maybe he’d be able to convince her with the truth, “if they see me training her, it’ll look suspicious.”

“I thought you said she was a decent fighter,” said Nebula, “and anyways, you training her will look no different than the two of you sparring.”

Loki stayed where he was, but pinned his commander with his stare, “the council is getting more bold. They put poison in her breakfast yesterday.”

“Did you tell her?”

“No.”

“Good,” she said with a slight nod, “and there’s nothing I can do to train against poison.”

“I need to make sure she lives.”

“Then do it yourself.”

“I didn’t realize you were an airy,” you peeled the carrot slowly, keeping your eyes focused on the task, “explains quite a few things though.”

You’d given up trying to listen in on Loki’s conversation with Nebula and decided to focus on the person who hadn’t exactly lied to you, but hadn’t been all that honest either. Though you couldn’t blame her for not telling you she who she was. She was the rightful heir to the Zephys’ throne and she’d run away from it — or so the rumours went. You would have kept quiet in her position as well. Though you hoped she would be in a more talkative mood now. You might have still been furious about the trial tomorrow, but your anger was losing a battle against fear, and that was so much worse than any surprise you’d gotten today.

“I knew you’d figure it out eventually,” she said, and you you knew she wasn’t talking about her race.

“You could have mentioned it before and it wouldn’t have changed a thing,” you doubted she would ever understand how true your words were, “royalty doesn’t exactly impress me.”

She smiled, “I’ve noticed.”

You began to chop the carrots, the repetitive motion stirring something in your brain, “so that means you technically outrank Loki.”

“Technically,” she muttered, not seeming too enthused by it.

You were surprised by how much you hated seeing the expression on her face, “anyone else have a secret past I don’t know about?”

“They all do,” she said, “but those aren’t my stories to tell.”

You nodded and got back to the chopping, mulling over what you’d learned. Loki’s court was powerful and you still didn’t know the extent of it. You had no clue who or what Gamora was, only that she was slightly — really — terrifying and oozed a scary amount of power. Loki’s master of information should have been queen of the Airies. You didn’t know who Nebula and Bucky were but there was no doubt in your mind that they were just as powerful. And yet, something scared them enough that they’d needed to rope a complete stranger into their plans. You weren’t dumb enough to think that Hela was their only problem either. You had a sinking suspicion that whatever was going on under the surface was somehow connected to Odin wanting the Hand. The two were too important to be a coincidence. You knew you could warn them, but you’d never leave with the Hand if you did.

You stole a glance at Wanda. She looked no different than she had yesterday, her long red hair falling in soft waves around her face as she chopped the onions. But it was as if you were finally seeing her for the first time. With power like hers, she could be the most dangerous person in the room. Yet she was their scholar…why?

“Aren’t you going to ask what happened?”

You straightened, shocked into thinking she’d just read your mind. Then you realized she was asking about her exile. Her shoulders were pushed back and her chin was high, but her movements were more jittery than usual. You didn’t know what the real story was, but you weren’t about to press. It didn’t matter how she’d gotten here or why. The past was safer left where it was. You sure as despair in the seven hells didn’t want your past dug up and you couldn’t imagine she did either.

“No I’m not,” you rolled another onion her way, “but I am going to ask if you’re happy here.”

“Having second thoughts about staying?” she asked with a watery smile.

Nat was too important to even consider leaving.

You shook your head, “just asking. Because if the highest ranked court member isn’t happy, then, as the lowest, how am I supposed to be?”

“You’re not the lowest,” she affirmed in a way that made you want to ask who was, “and even if you were, it wouldn’t matter. You’re going to be queen in a few moons.”

“Don’t remind me,” you muttered.

She chuckled, “you’ll do fine.”

“I’d better,” the thought of failure made you feel sick to your stomach, “but you still didn’t answer my question.”

You weren’t sure why you wanted to know so badly, but it somehow felt important. You stopped your chopping and really looked at her, waiting for an answer.

“I am,” she finally answered, and I didn’t doubt it for a second.

“Good. So I guess there’s still hope for me.”

The gown Valkyrie had sent over while you were in the kitchen this afternoon could have been armour. Black and silver with a bodice made of leather, the only way it qualified as a gown were the floor length skirts that would have gotten you killed in battle. But here, they were perfect. Here, in the council room, they were a different kind of armour that you were extremely thankful for.

“We do need to discuss what happens if she dies,” the eldest councilman stated calmly. Not as if they were talking about life threatening situations or anything.

The plates had just been cleared away after a very awkward dinner, and the moldy old rats were finally getting down to business. And honestly, you were getting more than a little fed up with people casually mentioning your death. You lifted your chin a little higher. It wasn’t enough to make them believe that you and Loki were in love. You needed to make them believe that you were their future queen. You stared them down one by one.

“I don’t think impossibilities need to be dealt with,” Loki said.

Helio smirked, “she’s human. Has love made you so blind that you cannot see that it’s much more likely that she’ll die a horrible death? Seems your reasoning fell away with your title.”

“I believe the loss of it has only made me wiser,” Loki turned to you, “what do you think, sweetheart?”

“I think you’re an idiot either way.”

Was what I wanted to say.

What I actually said was, “I think that if these trials are truly a test of true love, then you could never be more right.”

His eyes lit up with laughter, but he kept it together enough to say, “with you, everything’s been so right, nothing’s ever been wrong.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at the absurdity of his words but a smile grew on your lips, threatening to turn into laughter as well. You were pretty sure the stress of it all was getting to your head and you were afraid that if you let even a giggle out, it might morph into something hysterical.

You put a hand over your heart, “we’re meant for this.”

“Together, how can anything go wrong?” Loki added, not one to be outdone.

You were going to add another cheesy line to the mix but Helio had clearly had enough.

“It’s time to swear in to the trials, Loki,” he stated like one of your old school teachers trying to get control over the babbling bunch of idiots you were.

All humour vanished from Loki’s face, “I don’t want YN doing it.”

“Both of you,” he sneered.

Every instinct you possessed begged you to stay far away from any kind of magical promise. Loki had only sealed your bargain with a human’s handshake. And not only did he also not want you to be a part of this one, but he hadn’t decided that for you. He’d only stated what he wanted. Loki was giving you the chance to choose for yourself. You needed to convince the council you were in love and if this was the only was to do it, then you’d get through it.

“It’s okay, Loki,” the words tasted sour in your mouth, “I’ll do it.”

He sighed and seemed to swallow the words he wanted to say before finding new ones, “I want to remind you, YN, that by swearing in, if I die, you face a death sentence as well.”

You couldn’t believe how barbaric these people were. The gods should have created an eighth layer of hell specifically for them. Only the minute odds of a powerful fey like Loki dying kept the placid look on your face. At least you hoped it was still there when you said, “I can’t let you be the only one to swear in.”

“All I face is exile,” he rushed the words, “Please—”

Helio cut in gleefully, “She doesn’t have a choice.”

“No I don’t,” you agreed, to both of their surprises, “if I had to live, exiled, with the knowledge that you died during these trials then it would be a fate worse than death,” you stared at Loki, hoping he understood how much you needed this chance at the Hand, “we do this together.”

Loki pursed his lips and turned to Helio, “we don’t have to do this part.”

“Oh I truly think we do,” he practically giggled.

Five windows. There were five windows in this room. You’d counted them all three times but it hadn’t made you want to punch Helio in his perfectly symmetrical face any less.

Loki extend his hand across the table. You took it, oddly comforted by the steady weight of his hand in yours. What little comfort you felt was shattered by the fear that he’d just manipulated your emotions, but you pushed the thought away. He could only do so by pulling on memories. None good had surfaced.

He gave your hand a soft squeeze and stood from the table, leading you toward the older councilman who had a small blade in his hand. You felt like you were going to throw up. Blood magic. You didn’t need to be an expert at magic to know how binding this kind of magic was.

Loki lifted your hands but motioned for the councilman to hold off. He turned all of his intense stare on you, his green eyes dark like the jungle at night.

“Are you certain you want to do this?”

You didn’t dare trust yourself to speak. The weight of the pendant on your chest reassured you that it was worth it, but the thought of losing your life when you still had Nat’s to protect made you want to crawl out of your skin. You nodded.

He opened his hand so that his palm was facing upward and you copied the motion. The councilman didn’t look for any kind of confirmation before chanting a series of words in the ancient tongue. He proceed to make a small slice on both your palms, but you barely felt it. He pressed your hands together and a chill ran through you. He said a few more words and then released your hands.

When you looked down, there was no sign that your skin had been cut at all. The only difference was a small black band that looked like a ring on both your middle fingers.

You took in a shaky breath and somehow managed to say, “and this is binding until the end of the trial?”

Helio grinned, taking it upon himself to answer, “not this time. This oath is for both of your lifespans.”

You walked — or more like you stomped — down the hallways, back to your rooms in silence, the air hanging heavy between you. Through clenched smiles and by gripping tightly onto Loki’s forearm, you somehow managed to dampen your anger long enough for him to continue with a few more pleasantries before you left the party. You hadn’t spoken another word after that damning question, only nodding politely or smiling. You didn’t trust yourself to say anything that didn’t begin with a slew of profanities.

Loki stopped at your door but you motioned for him to keep moving. When he stopped at his door, he raised a brow. He hadn’t once looked your way or indicated that he felt any kind of remorse about what had just happened. You didn’t know if that made you want to punch him more of less.

You wrenched open the door and practically shoved him through it.

“What kind of tradition is this?” you demanded once the door was shut tightly behind you, “how could you people think this is acceptable? They basically told me these trials would guarantee my death! They’re planning on killing us both!”

“You’re not going to die,” he said calmly.

“It’s barbaric!”

“We’ll find a way around it.”

You stomped up to him, “it’s a blood oath you idiot! How could you people do this?”

He leaned back against a dresser, arms crossed over his chest, “it wasn’t my decision. And yes, it’s barbaric. There’s a reason it hasn’t been done for centuries. Especially that there was never a reason for the council to care until Hela came back and challenged my rule,” he ran a hand through his hair, “actually, it’s a clever move on their part. With your lifespan and Thor gone…they’ve all but guaranteed that Hela will take the throne eventually. It’s the perfect failsafe.”

He didn’t say it, but you could hear it in his voice. It was a move he should have seen coming. But instead of anger, his eyes took on a far off look that looked like…sorrow. You still felt like you had liquid fire in your veins, but the council had done this, not him. He’d offered you a way out. He’d tried to stop it. So instead of asking how he was so calm about this or demanding he do something right away, you let out a long breath and let it all go — for now.

With the fight leaving you, you leaned against the wall and looked up at him.

“Who’s Thor?” you asked softly.

He froze, his gaze sliding over to you his only movement, “would you believe me if I told you nobody?”

“Not a chance.”

Not with the way he’d said the name. And judging by the fact that he hadn’t tried to lie to you, he knew that too.

His jaw clenched, “My brother.”

“You have a brother?” You asked, stupidly.

“Had.”

“Oh,” you breathed, “what happened?”

“Murder,” he said, voiced clipped.

His words felt like a punch to the gut and for a moment it felt like he had just told you Nat had been murdered while you were here pretending to play the loving future queen.

He was no longer looking at you, his hands clenched tightly into fists on his lap. You knew you should let it go, but you couldn’t help it.

“Do you know who did it?”

His eyes remained downcast, “No.”

You had a feeling he was lying but you weren’t about to press further. He’d already told you more than he had to.

Now that you were calmer, you realized you were actually in Loki’s room. For the first time. Of course, if you’d asked, he would have let you in, but you never had. It was strange to see all of the things that made him…well, a normal person. The dresser cluttered with pencils and ink and a mass of papers. The clothes folded neatly on the settee. The massive, tightly made bed.

“You’re welcome to stay,” he offered with an infuriating smirk when he noticed where you were looking.

You rolled your eyes, “I’d much rather be in my own room thank you very much.”

“Unless it’s when you want to inspect mine.”

“I wasn’t inspecting,” you defended quickly.

He raised a brow.

“I was observing,” you corrected, “as one does in a new environment.”

“It feels more like inspecting to me,” his grin only grew, “but what do I know?” he spread his arms out, “observe all you want.”

You waved him off, “I’m good.”

You turned to go through the door connecting your rooms but felt like opening it would somehow mean more than opening an actual door so you went to the one that led out into the hallway.

You paused before the door, “you know, if tomorrow doesn’t kill me then I will kill you for keeping this from me.”

“I think it might make more sense for you to kill the people making you do this,” said Loki.

“Don’t worry,” you vowed, “I’ll kill them all.”

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel fic #Marvel AU #fan fiction #fanfic #loki x reader #loki x you

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welcometothemxdhouse · 3 years

Text

Lectures (pt.3)

I know this took a while i’ve just restarted uni after a year off so it has kinda been chaos. Originally i was only going to make this a three part small fic but i’m actually kinda enjoying thinking about how i’m going to develop Frederick in a timeline outside of the tv show. I want to try and keep his personality as close as possible, and i know there is a dark side to that which i may explore, but mostly this is just me wanting to give him a hug.

Also just a mention; all the words in italics are like internal thoughts.

This is gender neutral except one line which indicates that reader is female. I wanted to write the line because it is important to me but there was no way for me to make it gender neutral-i’m sorry, i hope you can easily skip over it.

Warnings: Actual smut this time lmao. Nothing crazy just basically oral (male receiving). Also mention of an age-gap/student-professor relationship.

Taglist: @feedthemadness-sweetie @prurientpuddlejumper @jonesy201 @madamsnape921 @charlottegrice

Three weeks had been and gone before you were alone with Doctor Chilton again. It was excruciating watching him peacock around the lecture hall twice a week as if nothing had happened-as if you didn't fall asleep every night with the thought of his lips on yours and his hands on your thighs.

You were snapped out of your daydream by the sounds of annoyed groans, disappointed sighs and an exam paper being dropped on your desk. You looked up just enough to spot the grade written in black ink before dropping your head down into your hands. Fuck, you thought, i’ve really gotta work on that. Before you even had time to consider dropping out for the 100th time this semester, the stern voice of your professor muttered what you’d been hoping to hear for almost a month,

“See me in my office after class.”

It wasn’t a question but a demand and fuck if it didn’t shoot electricity straight to your core. You knew there was a possibility he really did just want to talk about the exam but considering the reactions of everyone around you and the way Doctor Chilton was currently giving them a collective telling-off about how “nobody takes the class seriously” and “no one was proving themselves intelligent enough to be in this class”, you assumed he wanted to see you privately for a different reason.

You began to pack your things and followed your best friend out of the hall. Ever since you told them about what happened between you and Doctor Chilton they had stopped being so mean to him with everyone else, unfortunately right now they were clearly too angry to care.

“I worked my ASS off for that exam and what? He just decides i’m too dumb to take his class because I misunderstood one question? Which, by the way, was phrased shitty anyway”, you interrupted them by grabbing their arm and dragging them to a halt, “WHAT?” they snapped in response.

“Chilton wants to speak to me about the exam.” you replied. Your friend stopped and stared at you for a second, the smirk rising on their face matching the blush rising on yours.

“The exam, huh?”

“Yes. The exam”

They freed their arm from your grasp and condescendingly patted you on the cheek before turning on their heels and walking away,

“Have fun!” they shouted from down the corridor. Well...at least they stopped being angry for two seconds.

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

You found yourself, once again, in the corridor outside your professor’s office, only this time the awkwardness of the first meeting was gone. Assuming he wouldn’t have returned from the lecture hall yet you leant against the wall and began mindlessly scrolling on your phone. Your thoughts began to wander to the last time you had been here:

You had just begun to reach down and unbuckle his belt when the sound of a heavy knock on the office door made Doctor Chilton practically jump out of his skin.

Suddenly you became aware of a presence in front of you. You looked up quickly, assuming it was Frederick trying to pull you from your daydreams for the second time today but instead locked eyes with a guy you recognised from one of your classes.

“Hey?” you muttered, trying to wrack your brains for any memory of his name.

“Hi”, he replied, meeting your stare so intently you felt yourself shift uncomfortably on the spot, “I saw you stood here all alone so I assumed you’d want some company”

The actual audacity of men, you laughed to yourself, where the fuck do they get it?

“I’m good, but thanks anyway.”

He lifted himself off the opposite wall and stepped closer to you, crowding you so close that you subconsciously squeezed your knuckles and held your breath for what was to come.

“If you are going to make out, please do it somewhere other than outside my office.”

You whipped your head around to see Doctor Chilton standing next to you both nonchalantly, leaning on his cane with one hand and unlocking the door with his other. When he raised his eyes to meet yours you threw him your best ‘i am two seconds away from kicking this guy in the balls’ face before said guy turned his attention back to you,

“Apologies Professor”, he smiled to himself, “you know my name Y/N, message me.”

You watched the almost-stranger leave before turning back around to meet Doctor Chilton with a sigh,

“I actually don’t know his name.” You whispered, just loud enough for Frederick to hear and you smiled to yourself as he let out a small laugh in return.

Frederick signalled for you to enter his office first and then closed the door behind the both of you. He paused as if he was debating what to say to you before settling on a quiet,

“Are you okay?”

You wondered briefly if he was normally this gentlemanly. If this is what the real Frederick Chilton was like then his strict, obnoxious image was not doing him any favours. You decided you liked this version better.

“Yeah i’m okay. Not to get all feminist on you but it’s nothing every girl isn’t used to.” you paused and dropped your head to look awkwardly at your shoes, “i guess that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with though.”

A painfully long silence followed and you wondered, just like last time, if you’d put him off with your stupid comments. You were just about to apologise when his voice, softer than usual, mumbled

“You can leave if you want, Y/N. I’m not a monster, i’m not going to force you to be here.”

You almost gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you moved to reassure him. You stepped closer to him and rested a hand on his cheek, relishing in the feeling of his stubble scratching your palm as he tilted his head to lean into your touch.

“I want to be here, Doctor Chilton.”

“You can call me Frederick while we’re alone, Y/N”

You reached up on your toes and tentatively pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Okay, Frederick.”

You moved to pull away until Frederick grabbed both sides of your face and pulled you back to him, moaning softly as you lightly bit his bottom lip after a few seconds to deepen the kiss. His hands moved to circle your waist as he walked you back towards the door, reaching behind him and twisting the lock. As soon as you heard the click in the door you detached yourself from Frederick and smiled as you heard him whine quietly at the sudden loss of contact. You grabbed his hand and lead him to his desk, pulling the chair out from behind it and pushing him down to sit. As soon as his legs hit the chair you saw his body stiffen and his eyes began darting around the room, looking anywhere that wasn’t at you. Your stomach twisted in a knot as a million worries passed through your mind within seconds.

“Frederick...? What’s wrong?”

“I just...”, he flicked his eyes back to you and away again, “I don’t do this often.”

Your breath hitched as you realised what the issue was. He was nervous. This handsome, smart, sexy professor was nervous about having sex with you. Damn this man and his adorableness. If your time alone with Frederick so far had taught you anything it was how easy it was to forget this man was your senior by a substantial amount of years. You momentarily wondered what happened in the course of his life to make him have to cover this shy, awkward, sweet personality with the one that makes everyone hate him. You must be so lonely, Frederick Chilton. You walked over to the desk and perched on the edge, the irony not lost on you later that all three of your first encounters began with you on one of his desks. You leant forward and traced his jaw with your index finger,

“If you don’t want this, we can stop.”

“No i do want this, i want you.” He paused again, “i made you wait three weeks...i don’t want to disappoint you.”

He hardly had time to finish his sentence before you surged forward and captured his lips again. The height difference between the desk and the chair meant his neck was exposed to you above his collar as he reached up to match the energy of the kiss. You dipped your head and trailed open-mouthed kisses down his neck and across his jawline, the whimpers and groans that slipped out of his mouth made shock-after-shock fire down to your core. Watching “Professor Chilton” outside of this office would never have given you a clue that he would be as submissive as he seemed to be now. You made a mental note to explore that later on if this ever happened again. Oh this is definitely going to happen again. As you moved off the desk Frederick’s hands instinctively went to rest on your thighs like the last time you were in this position. You, however, had other ideas. You shuffled to your feet then rapidly dropped to your knees. Frederick’s eyes widened and you heard his breath catch in his throat as he realised what you were doing.

“Fuck Y/N” he groaned, looking down and almost coming in his pants at the sight of you with your dishevelled hair and kiss-swollen lips reaching to unbuckle his belt.

“Is this okay...” ,you asked, stilling your hands and peering up from under your lashes, “sir?”

The moan that came out of Frederick as you simultaneously brushed your hand over the bulge in his trousers was positively abhuman and shit it was hot. You undid the button and zipper on his trousers before pulling them down just enough to lift his dick out of his underwear. If you weren’t dripping before then you certainly were now. You had no idea how he could ever be worried about disappointing you with a dick the size of his - your jaw was practically aching just looking at it. With no hesitation you settled back on your heels and began kitten-licking the tip before licking a stripe along the underside of his dick and taking him into your mouth. Frederick grunted and moaned above you as you took him deeper with every dip of your head, eventually gagging slightly when he hit the back of your throat. The sound of that alone made Frederick grasp the back of your hair with both hands and pull you off him in a panic,

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna..” he stuttered, embarrassed. When you looked up at him he was so flustered it was almost sweet. You wrapped one hand back around his dick and reached around to place your other hand on top of his on the back of your head.

“Come for me, sir”

You tapped the hand on the back of your head as a signal for him to push your head back down and you took him in your mouth again, bobbing up and down with even more ferocity, scraping your teeth lightly along his veins a few times. You felt his dick throb against your tongue and you moaned, hoping the vibrations would be what he needed to push him over the edge.

“Shit Y/N i’m...” and with one last bob of your head you felt his come hit the back of your throat and you instinctively swallowed.

You pulled off Frederick with a obscene ‘popping’ noise before meeting his eyes and licking your lips, making sure he knew you’d taken every last drop. You buttoned up his trousers and raised yourself to perch back on the desk-you wanted to revel in the scene in front of you for a second. Frederick was a mess. He was breathing heavy and beads of sweat had gathered on his forehead. His hair was sticking up in every direction and his hands had settled to rest on his thighs as he tried, unsuccessfully, to stop them from shaking. He wasn’t lying, he really doesn’t do this often.

“What is the saying? Take a picture, it will last longer?” he snarled, clearly off-put by your staring.

“Maybe one day i will.” You smiled as you hopped off the desk and nudged his legs open with your knee so you could stand between them. You bent down and pressed a heavy kiss to his lips before walking towards the door.

“See you soon, Frederick”.

#Frederick Chilton #frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton fanfic #frederick chilton x y/n #hannibal fic #hannibal fanfiction

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sakuramotion · 3 years

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hello u guys!! <3 [crickets] i've been inactive bc a lot of fucking annoying shit happened [crickets] anyway good news is i'm done with the semester i'm done with college i'm no longer a student omg??? only took me forever <3 (the third try was a success!! luv to see it) (yes i dropped out of college twice and was kinda scared i was not gonna make it this time but i! did! it) (now i'm like broke) but anyways so guess who got tested positive for covid? my fucking flat ass,,, BUT you know what's actually worse? i got it because my mom got sick with it she got me so worried!!!!! like the first days she started to feel sick she was like i'm gonna stay in my room ok but my sister and i were like nah she probably just has the flu but then she went and got tested and had to wait for the results and on the day of the results i woke up with a sore throat but was like really mild and i was like ok.... probably nothing serious! and then my mom got the results and she was positive and the next day my throat really hurt and i think i had a fever so i took a pill slept it off and the next morning i was fine like i swear like nothing had happened!! but my mom was like yall need to go and get tested now so we went and we did the antigens one so very quickly we got the results and... well i was positive my sister was negative. and there i was like great! like worst timing ever bc my depression and my bpd issues and all the fucking mental shit i have to deal with has been Really Bad and then i got that shit just when i thought i had found a job and stuff with uni was going on and i had just seen my boyfriend like couple days ago and i was so scared omg i was like if he gets sick because of me i'll kms and then i started reading all these articles and they were like awful like awful stories with the same message: you! are! going! to die! but first you will suffer and if you don't die you will suffer forever! and i was like jfc ain't that life anyways like yea i wanna kms every day but i don't wanna go bc of some fucking ass virus.... honestly i got so scared not for me but for my mom!!!!!! bc after she got her results she started to feel Really Bad like the whole thing happened to her coughing loss of taste and smell body ache she had no strength she was sleeping all the time and i saw her only a couple of times bc she was really staying in her room and she looked so bad and god,,,, to see your mom like that! my mom!!! my mom has always way more energy than me and to see her like that christ i cried like a baby for two days i was so scared and then i wanted my bf to be with me but ofc he couldn't bc i needed to isolate as well and my dad! my dad texted me what was your result? and i texted back positive and HE left me on read,,,, like ok!! daddy issues explained,,,,, he texted me like 3 days later to asked how i was feeling like ok what if i had died.... but anyways ,,,, so there i was worrying abt my mom and waiting for the symptoms to really hit me but nothing happened to me like after those two days before i got tested nothing else happened except for like coughing here and there and a stuffy nose for a couple of days so i guess even tho i'm not fully vaccinated yet bc i got the first dose on july,,, that must've helped a lot bc thanfully i didn't get sick like my mom i didn't feel anything more but also very thankful my mom recovered completely after a week and a half and here she is back to her normal self!! i'm so excited this is finally over for us and i get to finally see my boyfriend soon like omg i missed him so much i needed him so much like i hug almost nobody but that man!! i hug him so much so often and i miss doing it i need to do it i can't wait <3 happy ending for us happy and thankful it ended like this!! [crickets] anyway don't forget to wear ur fucking masks wash ur hands!!!! and get vaccinated!!! srsly ppl be careful!!

#my mom probably got sick bc she works in a hospital :(#i used to talk abt how much i hate ppl not wearing their fucking masks and pretending this shit is over #and then boom #this shit happened #im just so glad my mom is okay

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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i know you JUST uploaded a new chapter for minazuki but uhm, when is the next update? (This isnt to pressure u or anything, im jus curious. Take however long u require)

When's chapter 11 going to be posted?!!! I need to know what will happen🥺

Oh god when's ch 11 going to drop?

HE CONFESSED IN A MOMENT OF JEALOUSY🥺

Honnestly i have no idea. My ass is starting to get busy since im a 3rd year and i joined 2 more orgs in uni +one org outside uni and i got promoted senior staff in my school paper recently (yay) so finishing minazuki before sept 10 seems like a far off dream now (i totally wanted to finish it so i can give u good stuff) so probably my update time might be reduced to once a week (twice if im lucky and be able to sneak in some writing...hopefully i get to finish the whole draft before sept6 uhhhhhqaHHHH sorry this girl needed to distract herself more in the pandemic so she decided to add more work to her work load by joining more extra curricular stuff)

Ill answer the other asks tomorrow and on monday sorry about that!!! School may not have started but were preparing stuff for the freshman (im part of the welcome comittee hsbfbdf yay) in my uni so that means im starting uni work already Hahsbabsbsbs

Also jealous!gojo well...it was kinda warranted,,, he feels like second place man but y/n never even felt the need to compare them. Sadly, since were down to our last 8 exciting chapters im not posting any spoilers anymore to keep the fun going (from sukuna who might pop out soon to that family party to that scene where they get to kiss jsjsjzs anyways mwah mwah)

I might update on monday or wednesday hopefully!!!

#small life update coming thru #pat.talks #customer.feedback #📝📝.minazuki mini series #THIS DUMBASS SAID #since ur stressed from the pandemic and writing isnt helping u anymore #WHY NOT ADD MORE WORK TO UR WORK LOAD #MhMMMM

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danwhobrowses · 3 years

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WWE Summerslam 2021 - Initial Reaction and Review

It's been a big week for wrestling in general, and now we have the Biggest Party of the Summer in the books, uncharacteristically airing on a Saturday.

It's been a while since I've run down a WWE PPV, time and apathy does have a bit to do with it, but since this is a big 4 and given what happened in Chicago there's definitely curiosity over how WWE would respond

Spoilers for Summerslam 2021 Below, I will be discussing the winners and moments so watch the PPV first

As usual I will indicate in the title who was the person I expected to win before the match started, but instead of Bold this time I'll put them in Italics with the whole match card being in bold

Kick-off

A long-ass kickoff was majority promo and interviews, not any contrarion drabble this time which was good. It was kinda sad to see Asuka on the packages but nowhere to be seen on the card.

I did like the sign guy of 'McAfee = Ratings' because he's kinda right, he has been great on commentary. I did not miss that dude in the Fiend Mask though, or the Lily Doll.

I will reiterate though that Sonya Deville is wasted right now, let her back in the goddamn ring, SD's Women's Division does need it and they make her look like a goof as Assistant GM.

Also apparently the Mysterios vs Usos aren't good enough for a promo package, not like it's a title match or anything... plus the disrespect still there, 'I wouldn't wanna work with my dad' they say like Rey isn't a multi time world champion with a huge wealth of experience.

The Miz and Morrison came in with a water truck to a mixed pop of cheers and boos, this moist gimmick ain't great but props for both guys being dedicated to it, it was short enough not to overstay its welcome too.

Ugh, Logan Paul is here...

Big E def. Baron Corbin (Pinfall via Big Ending) We had a new announcer from a Tiktok competition winner called Raine, and you know she was really good at it.

Corbin entered to boos hugging the MITB briefcase he stole, unable to afford entrance music it seems even though he's getting a PPV paycheck. To his credit he looks ultra disheveled, and when the ref had to pry the briefcase from him he looked super forlorn. I dunno why he's wrestling in a shirt though wouldn't that make it dirtier?

When the bell rings E does basically go right at Corbin, Corbin got a shoulder block in but then got caught in a belly to belly - despite protests - then a belly to backp. E missing the apron splash as Corbin senses a countout win, at 7 he leaves the ring to hit E against the ring post to try and eke out more time, demanding that the timekeeper keep the briefcase in his sights. E does return to the ring but his spear goes right is sidestepped into the ringpost, then thrown into them two more times, but only gets 2.

Corbin continues with some momentum with a sidewalk slam for 2, but his chokeslam is reversed into a rollup for 2 then a stretch muffler. He escapes and hits the Deep Six for 2, then 1.8, Corbin then stumbles to the briefcase, considering an exit before being hit with a lariat. E throws Corbin into the ring, but Corbin rolls right out, grabs the briefcase and tries to run around the ring only to be pounced into the barricade by Big E. The cat and mouse chase comes to an end, Corbin elbows E to get some room to roll to the other side of the ring but E catches him with that suicide spear he does, the briefcase is dropped and the straps are off: Big Ending for 3.

Shots of Logan Paul are hilariously met with huge boos as Big E finally reclaims his briefcase to a pop.

It was a nice little match, good palette cleanser and a nice and clean competition, Corbin had no chance in winning but it was a solid way to warm up the crowd for the main ppv.

Our final bit of the kick-off was discussing the UNI main event, though I feel like losing your job is a higher stake than winning your 17th world title. Also they had to force in the shucky ducky which was dumb.

Main Show

Raw Tag Team Championship: RK-Bro [Randy Orton & Riddle] def AJ Styles & Omos (c) [TITLE CHANGE] (Pinfall on Styles by Orton via RKO) Starting the night with some fun as Riddle comes out in a garish snake print outfit with a cerise pink lining, Orton didn't get the fashion memo thankfully but his hologram snake was cheesy. Riddle interacted with the crowd and had the multicoloured holo-doves while Orton mainly kept to himself. AJ and Omos came out together, though Omos had no theatrics, looking like a bouncer being invited to dinner still.

Orton and AJ started the match, Orton with the early advantage and tagging Riddle in for an assisted backflip for a 1 count, AJ rolls out the ring frustrated then tags in Omos, who just ragdolls Riddle; Shoulder Block, big clubbing blow then a delayed powerslam - an interesting glance over to Orton as well as they smile at each other, almost like Orton approved. Omos tries to deadlift Riddle with a wristlock but Riddle scrambles into a sleeper, but is flipped off then flattened in the corner. AJ tags in, platforming Omos for a Tornado DDT for 2, Riddle tries to fight out but runs into a backbreaker as AJ tells Orton 'you're next'.

During the rest hold, the crowd rallies Riddle back into the fight, AJ looks to have reclaimed an advantage and throws Riddle to his corner, but Riddle turns it into a dropkick on Omos, then dumps AJ out the ring. Riddle tries to tag Orton but AJ grabs him, enzugiri by Riddle allows Orton to make the hot tag. Clotheslines on AJ, a forearm to Omos - but it only stuns him, doesn't even fall to the floor, backdrop and another forearm to Omos that again fails to drop him. Clothesline to corner and a powerslam, this time Orton drops Omos out the ring by dropkicking the knees, draping DDT gets Orton feeling the RKO, but Omos drags AJ out the ring, then catches Riddle's dive to chokeslam him onto the apron. AJ stuns Orton with a jawbreaker on the ropes and gestures Omos to finish Riddle, but Riddle escapes the lawn dart and pushes Omos into the ring post. AJ though catches Riddle with his backflip reverse DDT on the outside, he misses the Phenomenal Forearm, but stands his ground against the RKO attempt, he rolls up for 2 and then lands into an RKO for 3.

It didn't last long but it was a fun opener, it was time for a title change and RK-Bro was a good choice. It's a shame Styles has to be the weak link but you can't be surprised that WWE continue to protect Omos.

Alexa Bliss (w/Lily) def. Eva Marie (w/ Doudrop) (Pinfall via DDT) The Lily hologram was fucking horrifying as Bliss carries the doll and puts it on the corner turnbuckle. Bliss weaves Eva effortlessly, she tries a waistlock but gets elbowed off. Eva gets a punch and a hair yank then...poses. She grabs Lily and starts slapping the doll, then slapping Alexa with the doll. Alexa then goes on the attack, clotheslines then a senton for 2, she puts Lily back as Eva argues with Doudrop. Alexa misses the Twisted Bliss and Eva gets 2 twice, a kick to the gut and a DDT finishes off Eva.

Post-match, Doudrop only looks smugly at Eva and grabs a microphone, announcing Eva as the loser, stealing her gown and walking away as Eva insists she made Doudrop.

This match didn't need to happen, in fact it could've just been a segment, but at least WWE were sensible in not having Eva Marie win against a former women's champion. They also didn't do any spooky shit and put the narrative mainly on Doudrop being free to hopefully be Piper Niven again, once again it didn't overstay its welcome.

Mario Lopez (who?) interviews RK-Bro on their title win, Orton cuts his normal promo but gets stumbled by trying to fit 'Bro' into his '3 most deadly letters in wrestling' catchphrase.

US Championship: Damian Priest def. Sheamus (c) [TITLE CHANGE] (Pinfall via Recknoning) Immediately after the interview Priest was already on the ramp, in blue gear with the USA and Puerto Rico flag on his tights, he did his archer pose to set off his tron. The Tron had a bit of an issue with Sheamus' opening, Sheamus wandered in with his face guard and coat. Sidebar, I still don't like the US Title design, it's better than the old one but not by much.

The two start by locking up, some solid chain wrestling shows that Sheamus has the power but Priest has the agility. After a pump kick, Priest hits a Falcon Arrow for 1, he has a bit of a nasty landing with his mid-rope flip senton out the ring, his heel clipped Sheamus' head but Priest's back had a hard landing on the floor, not easy to get distance when you step off the middle rope. Despite a flurry of kicks, Sheamus focuses on the back by throwing him into the ring post, belly to back and also an Irish Curse lead to a Camel Clutch, but Priest escapes that, Sheamus picks him up but Priest elbows out, so then he tries to powerbomb and Priest rana's out of that. Momentum is short though as Sheamus gets a powerslam for 2, a Dublin Smile and a Beats of the Bodhrán but he cuts the count short to slight the crowd's chant. His timewasting is punished by a Tornado DDT from Priest, they trade blows and a lariat floors Sheamus, a spinning leg lariat from the top rope only gets him 2.

Priest sets up the Reckoning, but is picked up for a rolling fireman's carry slam, Sheamus slowly climbs the turnbuckle, giving Priest time to look for a chokeslam, but Sheamus shimmies along the ropes and gets a massive rope-assisted jawbreaker, top turnbuckle clothesline and an Alabama Slam only gets 2. Sheamus angrily talks shit at Priest, Priest slaps him but Sheamus headbutts him back. He sets up the Brogue Kick but Priest gets the Big Boot and the South of Heaven, but it only gets 2. Priest tries the Reckoning but his back won't handle the weight, he tries a Disaster Kick but runs into a knee to the face, it's only a 2. After being furious with the ref Sheamus tries the Cloverleaf, but gets rolled up for 2, he catches Priest in a heel hook in the middle of the ring, with no ropes to reach, Priest reaches for the face guard, ripping it off of Sheamus. Madness in his eyes, Priest unloads on Sheamus' face, causing Sheamus to cover up and release the hold, a flapjack into the top turnbuckle stuns Sheamus for another spinning Leg Lariat and then a Recknoning for 3.

A nice technical match, had some creative spots in there and Priest winning was nice to see after the Miz/Morrison feud lasted forever. I do dislike that they said it was his first title 'in WWE' though, because he was NA Champion in NXT, which is still WWE Cole. I don't think I liked that the face guard is what undid Sheamus, the dude who likes to fight shouldn't really lose to insecurity. But third time's the charm with the Reckoning.

Afterwards we had a promo for NXT TakeOver. We got a backstage talk between Rey and Dom, Dom apologizing to Rey for the SD incident and Rey forgiving it immediately, noting to stay focused on the match right now.

SD Tag Championship: The Usos (c) def. The Mysterios (Pinfall on Rey by Jey via Splash) Immediately after the promo they left the curtain to their entrance, the yellow, white and pink was...a choice, kinda miss the comic book attires. The Usos came out with the Leis and their regular gear.

Rey and Jimmy started lightning quick, Rey setting up a 619 with a rana but Jimmy rolling out of the ring, eating a basement dropkick. Jey's intervening is stopped by Dom who drops him sluggishly into his brother before he's tagged in, Rey hits the baseball slide splash and Dom the crossbody. In the ring Dom's second crossbody gets 2, three amigos by Dom but he shifted Jimmy too close to Jey, who managed to tag a leg, meaning that Jey throws Dom off the turnbuckle when he tries a Frog Splash. Jey taunts Dom after hitting him into the ring post (who has had a lot of mileage already), gesturing him to try and tag his father before cinching a headlock, Dom tries to fight back but is thrown to the other corner, Jimmy is tagged in and they hit a Backbreaker/Ax Handle combo. Jimmy taunts Dom the same way, diving headbutt for 2, the Usos spend too much time taunting Dom in their corner as the younger Mysterio staggers the twins with elbows, his rush for his father is cut off by a very nonchalant uppercut by Jey (McAfee literally yelling HADOUKEN was amazing). Jey continues to posture after suplexes and more taunting, they look for the third suplex but Dom hooks his leg, reversing it into a twisting neckbeaker.

Rey gets the hot tag as Jey tags Jimmy, planting the Uso with a tornado DDT for 2. Seated Senton and a forearm to Jey on the Apron leads to Rey walking into a Superkick for 2. Both Usos stalk Rey, looking to do a pop-up Powerbomb, but Rey ranas Jimmy out the ring, Jey gets him with a superkick to the gut, then a superkick to counter Rey's springboard crossbody, he hits the Splash but it only gets 2. Jey looks frustrated and tags Jimmy to set up the double splash, but Dom cuts Jey off, he tries to suplex Jey onto the apron but Jey drops him with a front-facing suplex instead. The delay is sufficient though since Rey rolls away from Jimmy's splash, headscissors setup, 619 for a big pop, he goes for the Frog Splash but Jimmy gets the knees up. Superkick by Jimmy, tags in Jey, double Superkick, splash by Jey and 3.

*sigh* Can Rey stop being pinned? It's not like Dom doesn't know how to take a pin. It's, it's sucky really, I've said it enough times but Rey deserves more than this given his popularity and past title wins, WWE would not do this to the likes of Edge or Cena, Angle or Goldberg, hell they wouldn't even do this to Eddie and yet Rey gets this treatment as thanks for being full time. Granted, it took like 3 finishers to down him but come on, compare the light pop this match got when everyone knew the Usos were winning with the pop Rey's hot tag and his 619 got, he still has it and they won over the crowd, with more time and narrative to their match it could've been a classic. I'm just sick of seeing one of my faves lose so much you know, if the story is Dom's inexperience then surely he would be the reason for defeat, rather than Rey being ganged up on.

Tiffany Haddish (who??) interviews Priest on his title win, apparently Priest hates bullies and he's happy...not as cool as his NA title win in the hot tub though. Summerslam could've fit in a hot tub

Rick Boogs then shreds the guitar as he welcomes King Nakamura. McAfee is dancing like a goof again on the table and Nakamura's crown falls off, but he makes up for it by playing the IC title like a guitar with Pat. He's disappeared after the Belair/Sasha package though...kinda confusing why that was there.

SD Women's Championship: Bianca BelAir (c) vs Sasha Banks CANCELLED As Bianca enters with SD Women's Title prints on her gear, the announcer says that Sasha is unable to compete, so Carmella is fighting in her stead. A shame but obviously not intended.

Bianca BelAir (c) vs Carmella INTERRUPTED Props to McAfee for noting the collective disappointment. BelAir looks disappointed too and tells Carmella that she's gonna dish out her frustration on Carmella. The title is aloft but then

Becky Lynch is here

Cameras are not showing enough of her on her return as Bianca buzzes, the crowd is on their feet. Becky's got a thicker mane than I remember, maybe it's the curls, a new shirt of 'The Man's back in Vegas' is worn by Becky too as she soaks in her pop. When the cameras stop long enough to focus on Becky she is looking extra lean. She attacks Carmella and dumps her out of the ring, she tells Bianca she'll be right back and throws Carmella into the steps, before standing off with Bianca. She grabs a microphone and asks for a title match, BelAir mulls it, but eventually accepts.

Becky Lynch def. Bianca BelAir (c) [TITLE CHANGE] (Pinfall via Manhandle Slam) Both women are amped up, Lynch offers a handshake but the moment they touch, she socks Bianca, Manhandle Slam and 3. Becky celebrates as BelAir looks stunned and a little shafted, Becky does gesture no hard feelings but, BelAir does have hard feelings.

It's a big pop for Becky's return, though I would've rather seen you know, a match. I love Becky, she's been one of my favourite women's wrestlers in WWE before she was even The Man, and I am psyched she's back, but BelAir vs Becky could've been a good match. we didn't need the Carmella stuff either just have BelAir call an open challenge in Sasha's absence. Also as thin as the SD Women's Division was Becky probably would've fit more for the Raw Women's Title situation, since we last saw her vacating it and that shit's on heavy life support, plus I was kinda hoping that Bianca could beat Sasha but Sasha would win later down the line so we could build Liv Morgan for a title win, I guess October's draft could still open it up. But yeah, happy to see Becky back.

Wrestling Olympic Gold Medalists Tamyra Mensah-Stock and Gable Stevenson come out next, I know WWE have been hot on Gable but after the scripts' comments on Simone Biles it feels forced. Tamyra was at least happy to be here.

Extreme Rules promo is next.

Drew McIntyre def. Jinder Mahal (Pinfall via Claymore) Jinder comes out first, Veer and Shanky only able to stand at the ramp and go to the back. Drew comes with his sword to summon...smoke? You can see how dull that sword is too.

Drew starts the match strong by throwing Jinder in the corner, kicks and chops followed by throws, he motions for Claymore but Jinder rolls out the ring, cutting him at the legs. Jinder's attempt to regain momentum is countered with a belly to belly, so next he tries to appeal to their past friendship but Drew isn't having it. He tries the Futureshock but Jinder kicks him in the face, stunning him for 2. Knee drops and knee chokes are followed by clubs to Drew's head and a choke, but Drew powers out and hits a Glasgow Kiss (which they called a Glaz-gao kiss, it's not that hard to say Glasgow), some more Belly to Bellies leads to a Futureshock and a kip up, 3, 2, 1, Claymore, 1, 2, 3.

McIntyre stepped over Jinder as he celebrated, Veer and Shanky tended to Jinder and then Drew grabbed his sword and started swinging...like the face he is trying to murder these dudes for tending to their boss.

Okay. Easy pop having squashed Jinder, did this need to be on PPV? Probably not, this and Bliss/Eva could've been done on Raw, rather than steal time from Usos/Mysterios and a potential Becky/BelAir banger. Nobody really got over or elevated with this.

Raw Women's Championship: Charlotte Flair def. Nikki A.S.H. (c) and Rhea Ripley [TITLE CHANGE] (Submission on Nikki by Charlotte via Figure Eight) Uncharacteristically, Nikki came out first to nothing, not a pop or a boo, it kinda sounded like fake crowd noises when we had one pop. Rhea got a mini pop next, but loud woos for Charlotte? Don't buy that especially given how she's meant to be the heel. She's in kinda Thanos gear too. The pops were louder for Rhea when her name was announced, Nikki's was mixed and Charlotte had some boos.

The bell rings as Charlotte shoves Nikki, telling her to get out the ring. Rhea shoves Charlotte but Nikki dumps Rhea out the ring, a Monkey Flip to Charlotte then a Rollup on Rhea for 1. Charlotte dumps Rhea as the two tussle, Nikki coming back to boot Charlotte off the apron as part of a bulldog on Rhea. Rhea keeps trying to keep a hold of Nikki but Nikki keeps rolling her up. Charlotte throws Nikki into Rhea like a spear then lariats Rhea and exploder's Nikki. Rhea and Charlotte trade advantages around the turnbuckle, Charlotte fights off a Nikki crossbody and powerslams Nikki onto Rhea, she tries the moonsault but Rhea gets her feet up, Nikki rolls her up but Rhea pulls her off, tries the Riptide but Nikki shifts her weight to splash her. Nikki headscissors Charlotte but is booted by Rhea, Charlotte then boots Rhea and taunts her, Rhea then starts finding energy, a Northern Lights for 1 but Charlotte then regains momentum, a huge big boot to dump Rhea out the ring, but Nikki then tornado DDTs Charlotte for 2. Basement Dropkick to Rhea gives Charlotte time to catch Nikki but Rhea german's them both, Missile Dropkick to Charlotte by Rhea only gets 2 as Charlotte flees to the outside. The two trade blows on the outside, to be flattened by Nikki's crossbody.

Pulling Charlotte in the ring, Charlotte resists the suplex, but Rhea comes in to double up on Charlotte, only for Charlotte to reverse it to a double DDT, Flair chops are suppressed but Charlotte still manages to fend off Nikki and Rhea, Corkscrew Moonsault on the outside takes the two out. She drags Rhea in but Rhea gets a boot, Nikki tries to roll up Rhea but only gets 2. Rhea's limping a bit but still kicks Nikki and cinches in her Inverted Cloverleaf, she dodges the Big Boot from Charlotte (perhaps inadvertently) and locks it into Charlotte, but she rolls through and gets the Figure 8, which is broken by Nikki's knee drop. Nikki hits a Purge but it's broken up by Rhea, she sets another Riptide but again Nikki counters this time with a Reverse Tornado DDT, dumping Rhea out the ring. Nikki sees Charlotte prone, setting up the Crossbody, but she misses, Charlotte locks the Figure 8 and taps.

Abrupt finish, it was a really well-worked match selling the chaos of the triple threat. But I never felt like Charlotte was in danger of losing, Nikki wasn't working because they rushed her new character without getting her over, so of course WWE were gonna fall back to ye olde Charlotte title win. The narrative didn't help either, she seemed like the babyface and again, didn't feel threatened, I never saw the opening for Charlotte to lose. In a vacuum it was a good match, as a whole though, since Rhea won the title at mania nobody's gotten over, they made an absolute hash of the Charlotte feud to the point where we didn't even feel invested in Rhea getting a win back, then we fast tracked a cash in. The only one who profited here was Charlotte, who got to add 2 more title reigns to her name on paper, had Becky came here to make it a 4-Way and won, it'd probably have been more hopeful because now, who is next? Asuka's AWOL, Shayna's buried, Alexa's on spooky shits, Rhea's broken, Nikki isn't getting over, who can Charlotte face at this point?

Edge def. Seth Rollins (Submission via Crossface) Dressed like some aristocrat, Seth entered first half smug half focused, it may've dragged on a bit long. Edge didn't come out to Metalingus, but instead he came out in the fires of the Brood, with the dark sunglasses, fire and the elevated platform to boot, but then Metalingus came out to give the people what they want.

The bell rings but there's a long pause to soak in the crowd investment. Edge has the early advantage with a swift punch, every time Seth tries to lock in on Edge he hits back, annoying Seth as he mulls outside the ring. He tries the Pedigree but is again dumped out the ring, this time Edge follows and throws him around the barriaces, Rollins returns to the ring but is knee'd out, but gets some advantage by dodging the Baseball Slide and driving Edge into ye olde Ring Post, then against the steps. Neckbreaker only gets 2 as he continues to focus on the neck with chokes, stomps and slingblades, another neckbreaker leads to another 2 as Seth taunts Edge about it.

A diving knee by Rollins gets 2 as Seth kicks around Edge, he tries another neckbreaker but Edge reverses into a backslide for 2, Flapjack and a tackle into the turnbuckle, Seth fends off Edge at the turnbuckle though and hits the Frog Splash for 2 but for the second time Edge rolls into the corner to avoid the stomp. Rollins pulls Edge to the turnbuckle, but Edge hits him with a top turnbuckle spinning neckbreaker, Flapjack onto the top rope, Edgecution for 2, Rollins stuns Edge by driving him into the Turnbuckle, but he misses his knee strike into an Head Yank for 2. Edge goes up top but Rollins turns it into his Superplex/Falcon Arrow combo for 2, he sets up the Stomp but misses, tries the Pedigree but Edge wriggles out, Glam Slam by Edge for 2, nice homage for Beth there. Seth gets back the momentum though, Jawbreaker on the ropes then a neckbreaker on the ropes, Edge dodges the stomp on the apron though and throws Seth into the ring post (not ye olde ringpost though it's a different one) and then a spear through the ropes into the outside. A bulldog into the apron LED only gets 2, but now Edge is setting up the spear, but Rollins counters into a Pedigree (Pat mustn't have watched Roman vs Seth before because he said he has never seen that counter) but it only gets 2.

Rollins climbs up top looking for the Phoenix Splash, he lands on his feet and rolls away but walks into a spear, 1, 2, No. Edge now looking for the Killswitch but Rollins clubs then kicks Edge in the back of the head, he tries the Stomp but Edge rolls and catches the boot, turning it into an Edgecator, Seth reaches for the ropes so Edge tries to pull him back, but in releasing the hold he gets rolled up for 2. Edge then tries the Crossface, rolling to the center of the ring, but Edge slams his head into the mat and reapplies it for the tapout.

A nicely worked match again that managed to showcase a lot of Edge's past bag of tricks. The second I was wrong about too, I expected Seth to get some momentum to try and challenge Roman like he had been teasing before this feud (on that note, where's Cesaro? Miss that dude), but it was definitely something for the fans to cheer about. The narrative of avoiding the Stomp was also good for the storytelling, Seth doesn't lose anything in defeat either, he's took 2 spears, 2 crossfaces, Edgecator and the Edgecution.

MITB 22 is announced on 4th July at the Allegiant Stadium, Vegas (the same venue as tonight). Expect there to be a Murica match in there. In addition attendance today is 51k. We scope back around to Miz and Morrison's kickoff thing, mostly getting a jobber entrance. The moist jokes were worst this time around as they marketed the 'Drip Stick 2000' which neither had. Who did have it? A very wet and long-haired Xavier Woods with a cocktail stick in their mouth and a 'New Day Order' shirt. Woods convinces the crowd to rally into shooting them with a water gun, though it didn't really get a pop in the act, dumb shit really but whatever Woods' new look is I dig it.

WWE Championship: Bobby Lashley (w/MVP) (c) def. Goldberg (via Ref Stoppage) Lashers out first...no sanctity it seems. He's walking into the ring with purpose, his pose has no pyro though, kinda a lukewarm smoke that'd make Revolution 2020's explosion smirk. Goldberg does his usual entrance, lots of quick camera switching again. Dude looks a bit top-heavy tbh, skipping those leg days. Lashley paces across Goldberg's periphery, it doesn't look like there'll be underestimation in this fight.

They lock up first, a bit of strength testing, Goldberg tanks a shoulder block, grounding Lashley with a flying shoulder block, then a body slam. Goldberg is keeping the advantage with corner attacks and clotheslines but Lashley clubs at the back. He sets up a Jackhammer for insult to injury, but Goldberg keeps his leg hooked, he tries to lift Lashley but can't follow through and gets hit with a flatliner. No sympathy from Lashley as he clubs at the back of the head before uncharacteristically going up top, which Goldberg punishes by throwing him down, Goldberg looks for the Spear but MVP yanks Lashley outside, only for Goldberg to spear him on the outside anyway.

Goldberg sets up a second spear, but as the ref focuses on Lashley rolling out the other side, MVP thwacks Goldberg's knee with his cane, distracting Goldberg long enough to be chop blocked. Chokeslam makes Lashley look for the Hurt Lock, but he can't connect the fingers, as Goldberg escapes though he gets chop blocked again, causing Goldberg to leave the ring. Lashley follows, lifting him up and charging him knee first into the ring post twice. Struggling to stand, the Ref throws the match.

The match is over but Lashley continues to attack the leg with a steel chair. Gage Goldberg attempts to jump but gets wrenched with a Hurt Lock. MVP tries to assure that Lashley wouldn't have known that he was attacking Goldberg's son but it means little, Goldberg insisting he's gonna kill Lashley, meaning this feud isn't over.

The heat was right, the delivery was wrong. We've seen people beat Goldberg clean, I don't see why Lashley, who has beaten people who have beaten Goldberg clean, couldn't do that himself? Needing MVP's help flattens the statement made.

Camera work got a bit wonky there when promoting the Main Event

Universal Championship: Roman Reigns (c) def. John Cena (Pinfall via Spear) Cena's the first to come out, sporting a Super Mario-esque shirt showing his 16 world title reigns, the reigns also shown on the tron, they actually mentioned Ric Flair this time. The Bronze Statue hologram for Roman is still tacky, but he comes out flanked with his cousins and Paul, smoke again instead of pyro - I wonder if they weren't allowed to pyro. Heyman whispers the Usos to leave Roman to walk the ramp. I spotted an 'Anyone but you Roman' sign in the crowd, before McAfee makes me smirk again by calling Roman an 'absolute stud'.

Roman's a little ginger about locking up with Cena, but is goaded into it, winning the shoulder block. A second lock up leads to a Cena roll up for 1, trying to call back to the go home smackdown, another schoolboy for 2 but Roman laughs it off. Roman doesn't lock up again, kicking and clubbing at Cena while mocking the crowd, a lariat is reversed into another rollup for 2 but gets him back with a reverse lariat (he used the back of his arm, like a chop lariat), a Suplex by Roman leads to a 2 count, then the rest hold. Cena tries to break but Roman smacks him, another suplex for 2 then he dumps Cena out the ring, Cena blocks the punch and tries to flurry back, but is whipped into the steel steps. After some posturing Roman smacks Cena headfirst into the steps again, then posing with the belt as he claims that the crowd needs him, he saunters to the ring but walks into another schoolboy for 2, leading to another punch.

Roman insists that Cena can't win like this, but in his gloating Cena almost lifts him for the AA, which Roman counters into a DDT for 2. Roman almost looks bored, telling the hard cam that he's not apologetic about hurting Cena, Cena once again tries the forearms but when he tries the flying shoulder block he runs into an uppercut. Roman mocks Cena for having only five moves, but again it's a rollup for 2, this time Roman counters with a sleeper, Cena tries to fight but Roman puts his body weight on him, he tries again and Roman uses his weight again, only this time Cena launches him into the corner and follows up with a clothesline. Then come the shoulder tackles, the twisting front drop, but as he tiredly goes for the 5 Knuckle Shuffle, Roman snaps in the Guillotine, Cena tries the Jackknife pin for 2, the hold is broken but this time it's a Superman Punch. Roman wastes too much time though and his spear is countered with a kick, this time the 5 Knuckle Shuffle hits, AA, 1, 2, No. Heyman's having heart palpitations ringside but Cena's locked in the STF, Roman makes the rope to break the hold and leaves the ring, but as Cena looks to follow he's hit by a Drive By.

Roman looks to put Cena away with a Spear on the outside, but Cena counters it with an AA through the Announcer's Table, he drags Roman back into the ring but only gets the 2. Cena goes up top, looking for a dropkick maybe, but he's caught into a powerbomb for 2. Roman seems to be prepping his Superman Punch, but Cena rolls for 2, picks up for the AA but can't lift him all the way, allowing Roman to hit the Superman Punch for another 2. Roman is getting irritated now, Cena's been in his head after all, he goes for the Spear but meets ye olde ring post. Cena pulls Roman up for the Avalanche AA, he lands it, 1, 2, No! Cena taunts Roman this time, quoting his entrance theme then mocking the Oooowaaah, the Spear is cut off though, instead they trade blows, one Superman Punch, two Superman Punch, Roman declares he is WWE and lands the Spear, 1, 2, 3.

Roman stands over the prone Cena, but then the noise is heard. Brock Lesnar is in the building, and he still has the hipster look. Cameras lose control again as Heyman finds a conflict in interest, dude is absolutely jacked though. He approaches Roman in a staredown, but Roman just leaves the ring to close the night. Apparently off-air Lesnar then attacked Cena.

You know what would've made this match better? If the conclusion wasn't so forgone after Smackdown. Did anyone actually think that WWE would let Roman quit? At least before Roman's career was at stake there was a 10% chance Cena could leave as the winner, which would've made the nearfalls much more believable.

As for Lesnar, well, Vince always wanted Roman/Brock to be the main level feud and he's always getting his way. It'll draw, but it only puts paper over the submarine window that is the problem.

Conclusion

A good PPV though. I don't think there was any match that was awful. And that's kinda saying something with Eva Marie involved. Some segments and matches were, legless perhaps, stuff you could've be done with or even just put on Raw which is a shame because that took time from matches, as I said I would've liked to actually see Becky and Bianca wrestle and the Mysterios get more time.

The returns were good, I suppose Chicago definitely had nothing to do with that. But I'm not gonna be sad about seeing Becky Lynch again.

My main problem is probably how despite the big card, there was no doubt, I mean I got all but a couple of matches right on this card and it was because the matches were all built so obviously, those two frankly I predicted because I expected a bit more swerve. Part of it could be the fatigue of all the good wrestling we've seen so far but compared to other PPVs where I've felt on the edge of my seat or shaking in my ribs I just felt cosy, like it was a casual watch.

It was certainly not bad, definitely a good outing with good wrestling, but there is room still to improve on the narrative, and camera work like seriously learn to linger, immediate snap cuts throw people off. New directions are ahead to fulfill that so hopefully WWE can find a course to get back on.

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jisungyah · 3 years

Text

Dream State - 22 : HoOoNG~

“That was unessarily loud” Hyunjin stated, hands clasped to his ears looking up at Wooyoung from his seat on the floor.

Wooyoung saw San gulp, eyes still staring back at him. He didn't look back to Yeosang who he heard taking a sip of his drink a little too loudly.

Hyunjin's hands left his ears, now supporting him up instead as he stared at Wooyoung, his mouth agape waiting for some explanation.

Stupid, Wooyoung was stupid, he was embarrassed and felt guilty because he got caught. A palm raises to cover his face he couldn't believe he thought he could get away with some stupid plan.. it wasn't even a thought out one, he just wanted to avoid San.. he didn't even know why? only the reasons he made up for Hongjoong and Yeosang.

"I'm Wooyoung.." he let out a sigh before continuing "..the same Wooyoung from the Haechan Neck account, I didn't want to tell you at first cause it's embarrassing honestly.. being known as ‘the flirt’ online would ruin our first impressions..but lying about it is probably worse but, I just panicked.."

Wooyoung had been keeping eye contact with San through the whole confession, practically pleading San to forgive him with his glassy eyes.

"it's okay I get it.. to be honest, I kinda knew you were Wooyoung um.. I was just waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to say it I guess..", the eye contact was broken for a few seconds as San tried to consider his next words, once connected again Wooyoung's eyes were starting to fill with more tears, "Really it's fine! we all have an online facade.. right?" San nods to himself and turns to the two others for a little help.

Yeosang was kinda thrown off by this reaction from San so he kept quiet while Hyunjin reassured "RIGHT! if you're hyuck's neck maybe we could be moots! you wouldn't happen to know King Xiaojun... "

Wooyoung was not expecting the conversation to turn to Hyunjin admitting he was an 18+ RP account. As Hyunjin rambled about his account being worse in ways they couldn't imagine, far worse than just flirting as a parody account, Yeosang nudged Woo as to say 'I told you so'.

"you know since we're all friends and this has kinda cleared things up.." Yeosang started.

"Okay but I'm seriously really sorry, that was stupid and I don't wanna blame alcohol but I get more obnoxious when I'm tipsy.. and I was even panicking before so-"

Yeosang rested his hand on Woo's shoulder to calm him from babbling further.

"tsk Wooyoung obnoxious?" Hyunjin let out, laughing to himself while taking a sip of beer, when he finished he realised the others hadn't reacted. Maybe the alcohol was getting to him already. "woah. Wait ! that sounded offensive.. I meant like you're really not obnoxious if we're talking 'obnoxious'? we're talking Minho"

"So we're all good? Wooyoung you don't have to keep apologising, stop worrying about it" Yeosang reassured, hand now wrapped around Wooyoung's shoulders. San giggled at Woo's little pout and if Wooyoung's heart wasn't fluttering already it was racing now. "May I ask ..? did you do the same to Yeosang?"

"Well.. no Hongjoong got to him first"

"SO YOU WERE GONNA..?"

"No !Yeosang !" "Bitch I know what you look like!" "BITCH?! I didn't even know you could use that word!"

"Oh.." San seemed to be a little disappointed but no one seemed to notice, Woosang busy teasing each other while Hyunjin laughed at their banter.

"But wait, how'd you know I was Wooyoung? I mean like Haechan's Neck.." Wooyoung inquired turning back to San, sitting up fixing himself after sending Yeosang into a laughing fit with tickles.

"I recognised you from a photo you sent in the group chat"

"w-what?! which pic?"

"When you announced that you went back to your natural hair..? It was only half your face but.."

"I-"

"Idiot, you sent it to both group chats" Yeosang finished Wooyoung's sentence beginning another set of laughter for himself. Wooyoung gave a glare as a first warning, then raised his hands to his friend's waist threatening Yeosang with more tickles which got him to shut up immediately.

"But I was really doubting myself.. added up though. You and Yeosang, Seoul Uni.. but.. didn't you say to Min you weren't coming to the party?"

"We forgot about Min!" Yeosang exclaimed.

Thanks to San's question Wooyoung was reminded to check his phone, silently asking the group with his pointer finger up to excuse him for a moment as he scrolled through the 'PARTY' group chat’s messages. The others quietly waiting for some update on their mutual friend.

"He seems pretty content with Taeil"

Yeosang gave him a stern almost threatening look, "Twice, you said you'd be there for Min"

"Fine.. what do you want me to say?"

Woosang seemed to have a private conversation to themselves before Wooyoung was focused on his phone and Yeosang turned to question San, "Wait, Min said you weren't replying to him? and you haven't been active on the group chat"

Wooyoung whispered something being Yeosang's pick-up line, Yeosang ignoring him keeping his eyes on San like he was in trouble.

"I was busy being lost.. and classes and when I wasn't in class Seonghwa kept me busy" a gulp preceding San's answer.

San seemed to retreat a little to himself, head down unable to make eye contact with Yeosang which caused the latter to feel guilty.

"Sorry, of course you were.."

"To be fair we both were busy with each other too" Wooyoung said to ease the atmosphere, finally putting his phone back in his jacket's pocket.

"Well that's cause you wer-" Wooyoung knew Yeosang was going to make fun of his panic about San and the party, swiftly interrupting with another apology.

"Sorry I- .. We-we're all over the place but I just didn't want Mingi to feel alone or left out, so I um pretended I was busy with an assignment than coming to the party so he could text if he felt lonely.." Wooyoung explained.

"Oh .. that's actually really nice of you..."

Wooyoung didn't mean for anyone to feel guilty but that's how San felt now, knowing he was doing what he didn't want anyone to do to him to one of his best friends.

"I mean Wooyoung doesn't seem like the one.." "Wooyoung is just that nice" "-the kind to lie out of malice! he even taught me that phrase"

Hyunjin and Yeosang accidentally talked over each other but Hyunjin continued anyway, starting to become less aware of his surroundings. He was swaying side to side to the faint music, eyes closed barely open when he responded to the others.

They kept the conversation going, allowing some time for Woo to reply to Mingi and trying to distract Hyunjin from drinking any more. Soon their hyungs gathered with them, Hongjoong tried to slip away for Wooyoung's sake but Woo caught him, it wouldn't hurt they'd be leaving soon anyway.

Although Hongjoong couldn't even introduce himself before San announced that they should get going, saying it was getting late for a school night and Seonghwa wasn't in the best state either. Hongjoong seemed to match Hwa, their few more drinks than what they planned beginning to show some effect on them.

They exchanged goodbyes before introductions could take place, San and Minho helping Seonghwa stand straight, his arms around their shoulders, getting hold of him before he could flop down on top of the boys on the couch.

"Hhhow much longer you guys stayed? we-we we can have fun by ourselves"

Minho noticed Hyunjin's state which was.. pretty drunk for Hyunjin, he left San with Seonghwa while he tried to pull Hyunjin away to leave with them. Wooyoung didn't notice San already leaving with Seonghwa, preoccupied with a whining Hyunjin trying to get away from Minho's arms.

"I'll help you out with Hyunjin if Yeosang is alright enough to get Hongjoong" Wooyoung offered.

"awwhhhh Wooyoung-ah don'tlet-let- don't be such a killjoy cause of Minho!" Hyunjin grumbled escaping from Minho, only to stumble into Wooyoung's arms, face pressed to his classmate's chest causing him to giggle.

"Seriously Hyunjin, how's Kami gonna react seeing you like this?" Minho sighed finally trapping him.

"Ff*ck.. I forgot"

"You're not sleeping over, I'm surprised you didn't get a curfew"

Hyunjin stopped squirming, trying to get himself together when he remembered he'd be returning to his parents in his drunk state.

With the help of Minho and Wooyoung, he made his way down the stairs safely with Yeosang and Hongjoong following behind them, conversing about nonsense until they reached the bottom.

By the time they got down, Seonghwa was free from San's grip trying to make himself comfortable on the side of Minho's car, even after San offered his shoulder as they waited for their driver.

Minho took care of Hyunjin the rest of the way to his car, a few more waves goodbye before the 'Just gotta TOUCH' boys were all seated in the car.

San now in the passenger seat, Minho still the driver ready to take the boys home safely. The other two boys sharing the back seats, leaning on each other still somewhat awake but on the verge of sleep. Hyunjin trying to sober up before being dropped home to his parents but the alcohol in his system tempting him to a short nap. Seonghwa was out of it only half awake because he had some thoughts to discuss with the boys.

The trio left behind began their walk together after seeing Minho drive off. Wooyoung taking over Hongjoong duty knowing Yeosang's stop was only a five-minute walk away, although with their current pace the time could be doubled.

Wooyoung didn't know whether it was Yeosang slowing down in consideration for Hongjoongs drunken state or because he also wanted to enjoy more time together, even if they technically weren't alone. He appreciated it though, the dark night allowing stars to glow through even when the city lights fought against their shine. Setting the mood..

The odd car passing by allowing a flash of light to hit Yeosang, who was shielding the light from the slowpokes.

The short distance they travelled so far was mostly filled with silence and a few grunts from Wooyoung struggling to keep Hongjoong up because he was distracted by Yeosang.

The few street lights they walked by flattered Yeosang's features with its warm rays, catching him in the process of thought.

Wooyoung was getting used to Joong's weight over his left shoulder. Yeosang suddenly turning back after taking in the stars, causing Wooyoung to trip on his step.

Yeosang meeting Wooyoung's admiring eyes as he looks back to check on the two. "You know you don't have to walk me back, maybe I should be helping you get Hongjoong back to yours"

"No we're getting-" "No no we'll get you back safe first!" Hongjoong speaks up, whispering a sorry for interrupting Wooyoung. "We're getting you safely back to your dorm, we can just take the bus from your place to ours. I can handle Joong"

Yeosang seemed to take their answer but then a smirk played on his lips before mentioning, mostly to Honjoong, that San was still looking for accommodation.

"Yeah I know Yeo.. I was in that conversation with you" Wooyoung tried to dismiss it.

"Yeo?" Both older males asked at the new nickname.

"What? you both call me Woo?? its just a nickname"

"huh, I like it.." Yeosang blushed on top of the residual tint of the alcohol in his system. He never really had nicknames from friends mostly just family but he was called "sangie" or "sang" and although Wooyoung had texted him the nickname before, it felt different hearing it out loud.

"Does that make me Hong?"

Wooyoung giggles at his Hyung still under the haze of alcohol, eyelids half open and sporting a small pout.

"hehe yeah, that makes you Hoooonnngg~" Messing with the pronunciation of the new nickname earning a disgusted judgemental look from the now called Hong. [like how he said in the one ep of ateez salary lupin]

"Soooo San..??" Yeosang starts up again after a few giggles from the '99 liners at Hongjoong's reaction. The trio now continuing their journey after their short pause.

"We said we'd do interviews sooo.." Wooyoung hoped his mention of their plan would prevent Hongjoong from thinking about just giving San the spare room.

"San..? but Seonghwa said-oh wait yeah we can get San an interview! he seems nice I mean we just goddamake sure he leaves the nsfw stuff on Twitter"

"pffft-" "JOONG!"

"I thought it was Hong!?" Yeosang blurts while laughing

San content staring out the window watching the street lights go by but he notices Seonghwa from the rearview mirror pouting. A small smile on his lips with his tongue peeking out trying to take a quick picture while the older had his eyes closed from drink and tiredness.

"Y'all didn't get to meet Hongjoong" he whined a little like a disappointed child when he saw San facing him. San is quick to take the picture and drop his phone but not quick enough to turn around before Seonghwa's eyes are fully open.

"Sorry Hwa-hyung, but I'm tired and you didn't seem to be handling the alcohol well" San spoke with a faint but reassuring smile before turning back to sit in his seat properly.

"San was the only one to not meet Hongjoong, and me and Hyunjin were literally right there" Minho added, trying to make Hwa less frowny-faced.

"Correction, Hyujin and I."

"Oh just shut it Jin and focus on sobering up before we get to your place, your lucky enough I'm giving you extra time heading to Seonghwa's first"

Hyujin is now sat straight, rolling his eyes at the driver sat in front of him. "Oh San! did you know Joong and Woo have space? maybe they can take you in" Hyunjin suggested while brushing his hand through his hair gathering himself together, it would only last a bit longer before he’s feeling woozy again.

"They do? but .. I don't know I-I don't wanna be taken in like a-a a stray cat.."

"I mean you're not far from one" Minho commented flashing San a smile before quickly turning attention back to the road. San was always compared to a cat sometimes even to his own cat by Mingi and his parents. He didn't know whether it was because of his physical features or personality, maybe even both? But he was surprised and flattered that Minho noticed since he had three cats of his own.

"I-I didn't mean for it to sound like that! what is wrong with me today ahhhggghh"

"you're literally always like this?" Minho replies when he spots Hyunjin throwing his head into his hands in an exasperated manner.

Seonghwa was mumbling something about Mingi and Yeosang in the last few minutes of their drive. He didn’t form enough coherent words for the others to make sense of it.

They finally reached the house. San was glad that Seonghwa’s aunt was already asleep but kept the door open for them. Somehow San manages to help Seonghwa into bed and takes off his make up, not bothering to try changing him into PJs. He also ends up charging Hwa’s phone and setting an alarm for him before he takes care of himself.

San plops himself on the bottom bunk of Seonghwa’s older cousin’s bunk bed staying in the room across from Seonghwa, for now at least. Bringing the nearest plushie to his chest to cuddle that night San also picks up his phone to check up on the others.

Pan ic :

Well the jig is up! don’t know how far pretending to be jongho wouldve gone anyway..

also didn’t Hong say something about not drinking too much earlier and he’s going home like that?? i think seongjoong bad influence on each other but wooo ooo WooSang going strong ... for now

pt.21 < Masterlist > pt.22.5

[ Social Media Woosan AU:

Having finished his first year of college, Wooyoung spends his summer with friends.. online friends mostly., friends made through his Lee Donghyuck parody acc..

Will he be ready to spend his second year with these crackheads ? and what if his twt crush starts attending his university ? ]

A/N if the hyung isnt always accurate its because they are close friends and dont say it often.. also its been awhile .... college was hard second semester soo i didn’t get a chance until recently sooo sorry its very late

#DREAM STATE #woosan #woosan au #atiny #ateez #ateez social media au #ateez au #NCT #nctzen #nct au #nct social media au #social media au #skz #skz au #skz social media au #markhyuck

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pointy-hat-witch · 3 years

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My gift for @smol-fatale for the @fyeahbnha secret santa event!! I had lots of fun writing it! Hope you enjoy it! I never wrote a ShinKami fic so I hope I did them justice! :)

Title: Hot Stuff Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Word count: 7233 words Summary: In which Shinsou’s Christmas Miracle happens in form of a broken stove and an electrician.

You can also read it on AO3! :)

Shinsou was, generally speaking, a loner by choice, mind you. He enjoyed his own company, living at his own pace. So, when Midoriya slowly but steadily made himself a presence in his life, he initially didn’t notice. And by the time he did, it was already too late.

Together with Uraraka, Midoriya’s almost-sorta-girlfriend(?), they moved into a three bed-room-apartment rather close to their uni. Every now and then, Shinsou asked himself how it ended up like that but whenever he thought about it, he reached to the conclusion that he didn’t really mind, after all. He found these friends, or rather they found him and now they’re his family.

Well, until moments like these.

Shinsou came home from one of his late lectures, and it was already dark outside which was no surprise for mid-december anyway. Because he was hungry, the lecture dragged on as it was and his last meal had been some time ago, he just wanted to fix himself a fast meal and watch a movie before passing out.

So, when he came home he first noticed the silence, the eerie silence. After around a year and half living with friends, he was fluent in reading the atmosphere, that was why he knew something was up. He was certain that Midoriya and Uraraka should be home already and that they hadn’t anything planned for tonight.

“Hello?” He patiently half-shouted into their apartment from their entry hall as he slipped out of his shoes. There was a shuffle in the kitchen and some muffled voices. Something was definitely amiss. Shinsou sighed.

Preparing himself mentally, he left his bag where it was, put on his slippers and slowly made his way toward the kitchen. He didn’t sneak up or anything but when he appeared in the door, both Uraraka and Midoriya jumped up as if he was Satan himself. They pressed their shoulders together, standing as rigid as humanly possible and their faces, hh god, Shinsou would have cracked at least a smile if his gut didn’t say something was awfully wrong.

“W-w-w-what’s up, Shinsou? Home already, huh? Kinda thought you would have come a little later, like you know, you could have gotten a coffee because it’s so late and you would have taken a bus later or even walked, so we didn’t really thought you would be-“ Midoriya continued babbling but Shinsou already zoned out, staring neutrally over to Uraraka.

And, oh, Uraraka. “Why on earth don’t you breathe?” Shinsou interrupted Midoriya as he slowly squinted at her round cheeks, her eyes almost bulging out.

“Baaaah!“ Uraraka pushed out all of her breath she held in and then took a deep breath afterward.

“Sorry, ahhh,” she whined, fanning herself, “I was getting so nauseous and just had to.”

“Why did you feel nauseous?” Shinsou’s voice cut through the air that was as thick as butter.

“Uhhhh,” Midoriya and Uraraka looked at each other in panic but after a couple of silent seconds exhaled defeatedly. Whatever it was, they couldn’t keep him in the dark forever. They each took a step to the side, moving away from each other to show him the disaster.

“What am I looking at, guys?” Shinsou asked, fully aware of what he was looking at. But he needed them to say it.

“We, uh,” Uraraka gesticulated wildly without saying anything, looking at every possible thing in the room except Shinsou and that. Shinsou’s gaze wandered over to Midoriya who’s shoulders were perched up, elbows close to his body while mumbling inconceivable into one of his hands.

“Guys.” Shinsou sighed. “Just, what happened?”

“We wanted to make dinner,” Uraraka whined, “for you, you know? Mondays are bad as they are and you have a full day of classes so we thought we could, uh, make you dinner.”

Midoriya nodded, his hair bobbing with the motion. “And we just got started, like prepping and we needed flour for the batter and it-“

“It just,” Uraraka threw her arms in the air, “the glass container just slipped through my fingers.”

“And fell on the stove.”

“And fell on the stove.” Shinsou mumbled, nodding solemnly. Yeah, this was his chosen family. Smashing their ceramic stove plate with a glass of flour. He stared at the abomination. The cupboard right next to the stove was a little higher than usual, so Uraraka had probably stood on her toes to reach the glass and it must have bounced off her arm right in the middle of the stove plate, smashing it into pieces. Everywhere black shards. Leaving the stove irreparable.

“Did you get hurt?” Shinsou asked as he kneeled down to pick up some of the bigger pieces.

“No!” They both shook their heads.

“Then that’s all that matters.” Complaining about spilled milk wouldn’t do neither of them any good. He knew it was an accident, shit happens.

“We’re sorry, Shinsou.”

Shinsou blinked and looked up. Both Uraraka and Midoriya looked at the floor, Uraraka fighting off tears and Midoriya balling his hands into fists.

Yeah, those were his family. If he would have been still with his blood relatives they- no. Shinsou didn’t think about that anymore.

Shinsou shook his head, almost smiling fondly. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t get hurt, so it doesn’t matter. We can just order food.”

Averting another disaster, as Uraraka and Midoriya looked like they wanted to jump on him to smother him with their affection, Shinsou got them to help him clean up the kitchen, before they ordered food, which his friends paid for, and watched a movie until he passed out.

He woke up the next morning with his blanket thrown over him and he indulged himself for another five minutes, snuggling into the heavy blanket. But, alas, even though he only had two classes in the afternoon, he had some homework from the day before, so he had to get up eventually. And the earlier the better.

When he got up, he noticed a small piece of paper on the couch table with his name neatly written on.

Curious, he picked it up and unfolded it.

“Dear Shinsou,

we hope you slept well. You looked like you were dead at least.. Sorry again for the stove. Please call the landlord about it. He likes you.

Love,

Your besties!!”

Shinsou couldn’t decide whom of them he wanted to strangle first. Letting out a silent groan, Shinsou let himself fall back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Today was an even more low energy day than usual, so the thought about calling someone was already taking a toll on him.

They all knew, Aizawa wouldn’t yell at them or anything. He was the best landlord you could get, honestly. Not they often, say, smash their stove plate but if they needed anything done in their apartment he would get it done in a few days. Sometimes, he even just came over to talk and check in if they’re alright, studying and working and all that.

And Shinsou and he may or may not clicked right from the start. They both were low-tension, didn’t talk around the bush and didn’t need to tiptoe around each other. If he could choose, Shinsou kind of wanted to have him as a dad. But that was something he would ever say out loud.

Still, why he needed to call him was beyond him.

He searched around for his phone blindly, not bothering looking away from the ceiling. When he finally found it, his finger scrolled through his contacts, their landlord a commonly called number. Shinsou sighed. He dialed.

“What did they do now?” Aizawa’s voice was gruff, probably only just gotten out of bed himself, for what Shinsou felt a little guilty. They both didn’t like talking on the phone, but both his roommates and his spouse were notorious in getting them to do it.

“They broke the stove plate.” He cut right to the chase.

“They did what now?”

“Dropped a glass on it. Smashed it.”

“They smashed the-,” Aizawa mumbled in disbelief to himself.

“Do you have an electrician or a company you use for stuff like that? I can call them. And we pay, of course. Our fault.”

“Their fault,” Aizawa pointed out, “but yeah. I know someone. I’ll give them a call.”

They agreed that the electrician either comes until 1 pm or the next day in the evening and their call ended. As short as it was and for some may sound a little standoff-ish, Shinsou liked those calls the most. They weren’t as dreadful as those where he had to make small talk and offend the other person by not being the friendliest customer or something.

When he finally was done with that, he fixed himself a bowl of cereal and then sat down on his desk to get some work done before heading off to uni.

When the doorbell rang, Shinsou almost flinched, hunched over his notes about commonly known phobias. Geez. He rubbed his face as he stumbled over to the door, not thinking twice about making himself any more presentable. He, first of all, didn’t give a flying fuck about what an electrician would think about him, and secondly, it was a apartment with three students, what could anyone expect?

What he didn’t expect, was to look into the bright face of someone his age, grinning around a lollipop.

“Yo!” He almost shouted, as he pushed up his cap a little, grinning around his lollipop even wider.

“Hi.” Shinsou answered in the most monotonous voice he could muster but it didn’t deter the other to smile any less.

“I heard you have a broken stove.”

“Yeah.” He stepped aside, letting the guy inside. “First door to the right.”

“Gotcha!” He nodded, pulling his feet out of his shoes. “Oh, I’m Kaminari, by the way.”

“Uh-huh.” Shinsou wasn’t sure how to handle this ball of energy. Literally. When the electrician took his cap off, clipping it to his belt, his yellow hair showed a black streak in his fringe which resembled a flash of lighting. His steps had a little spring to them, his fingers kept tapping to some rhythm, his eyes darting around. And Shinsou only knew this guy for about ten seconds.

“Oh.” Kaminari said as he entered the kitchen. “Well, yeah, that is fucked. In my professional opinion, of course.” He threw his head back and laughed. He fucking laughed at his own joke. “How in god’s name did you do that, man?” Kaminari walked up to the smashed stove plate, without the glass shards mind you, looking at it in fascination.

“My roommates dropped a glass on it.” Shinsou crossed his arms lazily, leaning against the kitchen door frame. “What can you do about it?”

“That sounds like your roommates are a blast!” He laughed again, pushing his lollipop around in his mouth. “Well, I am great at my job but that,” he pointed at the broken ceramic plate, “even I can’t fix that. Got to get you a new one.”

“Figured as much.” Shinsou groaned. “How long will that take?”

“Not that long,” Kaminari mused, pulling out a folding rule. “Oh, did you take out the fuse?”

“Huh?”

Kaminari laughed, again. “That answers it, hehe. Where is your fuse box?” Though Kaminari laughed again and again and kept a lazy smile on his lips, Shinsou never felt that he laughed at him, he just was … amused. And it kinda made it easier to talk to him.

“Over there,” Shinsou pointed back to the entrance hall, next to the small coat rack.

“Gotcha!” Kaminari hopped over to it, with one look flipped one of the like fifty switches, which Shinsou had only a very, very general idea for what they were, and danced back into the kitchen.

“Didn’t plan on getting fried by a smashed stove today!” He winked at Shinsou as he laid down his folding rule to measure the plate.

Shinsou was frozen on the spot. Did he just wink at him? Was he … no. He was just like that, that wasn’t anything weird, was it?

“Alrighty,” Kaminari mumbled around his lollipop, writing some numbers on his notepad that he pushed back into one of his numerous pockets. “It’s a standard stove plate, so nothing hard to get by. I would say tomorrow, the day after tomorrow the latest I can install the new one. Does one of the days work better for you?”

Shinsou blinked himself out of his own stupor, mentally going through his schedule. “I could do tomorrow evening or the evening after that.”

“Tomorrow it is then!” Kaminari smiled around his now almost vanished lollipop. “Uh, can I have your phone number? Just in case, it doesn’t work out for whatever reason, you know?”

“Sure.” Shinsou nodded, rattling off his number. Kaminari typed at his phone, throwing Shinsou a quick glance, clearing his throat.

“And, uh, I didn’t catch your name?”

There was a beat silence, before Shinsou answered slowly.

“Shinsou Hitoshi. Got it.” Kaminari smiled. His fingers fished out another lollipop, unwrapping it so fast Shinsou has never seen anyone do it before and popping it into his mouth. The other stick wandered into a small container with at least five other empty sticks. Uh, okay.

“Well then, Shinsou,” Kaminari said in his usual loud voice, Shinsou just figured out, “see you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Shinsou nodded as Kaminari slipped back into his shoes and then was out the door after a short wave.

Shinsou didn’t know how long he stood in the entrance hall after Kaminari left. It was kinda like a storm passing by and Shinsou had to process what just happened. Like, nothing bad happened, Kaminari did his job, was friendly, professional. But… but why did it feel like there so much more that happened?

Shinsou shook his head. It was just their wavelengths that were way off and it just was too much all of the sudden, Shinsou figured. Though, if Kaminari felt like so high tension and brimming with energy, why didn’t Shinsou feel drained in the least?

---

Since he only had morning classes, Shinsou spent the afternoon with his roommates. They brought some takeout with them on their way home, so they had some warm food at least. Shinsou was appreciative of them buying all the food, college students being notoriously broke as they were, though it didn’t come up yet, Shinsou planned to chip in with the repair costs, of course. They’re his closest friends after all.

Of course they did speak about the short visit of the electrician and in hindsight, Shinsou ought to know better, but he brought up the topic just to inform them. But he must have slipped in something of the sort that he felt weirdly calm around this energetic guy, because they both brought up sudden plans right after.

So, when 7 p.m. rolled around, he was all alone in the apartment again. And his heart was weirdly pounding in his chest. That was why he literally flinched when his phone rang on full blast. He forgot to put his volume back down after watching a cat video because who the fuck did call anybody these days?

The number was unknown and everything in him screamed to just not pick up. But then his finger was already sliding the “accept” button to the side.

“Shinsou speaking.” He pinched his nose, already berating himself for getting on the phone with a stranger.

“Ah! Hey, Shinsou! It’s Kaminari! The electrician? From yesterday. Because of the stove?” Kaminari’s voice was even louder through the phone, practically screaming in his ear and Shinsou had to hold his phone away before turning down the output volume.

“Yeah, Kaminari. I remember. What’s up?” Shinsou licked his lips, his mouth gone dry all of the sudden.

“I just wanted to check in, if I can come in around half an hour?” There was some traffic noise in the background, he probably just finished up his last customer.

“Yeah, half an hour. I’m here.”

“Perfect! Then I’m just gonna pick up your wonderful new stove plate and come right over!”

“Great.”

Kaminari chuckled and Shinsou’s skin prickled. It even sounded like he had yet another lollipop between his lips, clacking occasionally against his teeth.

“See you soon, Shinsou!” Kaminari hung up before Shinsou could even say anything. He let his phone fall out of his hand on the couch, pressing his hands against his face as he leaned back. What was going on with him? He … was looking forward to seeing Kaminari again? What in the ever loving fuck?

The next half hour went by agonizingly slowly since Shinsou looked at his phone every other minute, both to check the time but also, and he would never admit to it, maybe getting another call from the electrician.

When it (finally) rang at the door, Shinsou had to force himself not to run to the door. Purposefully slowly he opened the door to Kaminari leaning against the stove plate, properly secured in Styrofoam.

“Hey,” he grinned around his lollipop, “I chose the best stove for you!”

“Tha-“

“Out of a range of options!” Kaminari proceeded to put his hands up, motioning finger guns, while winking at Shinsou. And then snorted with laughter himself.

Shinsou didn’t know what did it for him. The absolute absurdity of the situation, the worst pun he ever heard, or Kaminari laughing at his own joke. Maybe all together. But he had to turn his head to the side and snort behind his hand.

“I saw that!” Kaminari yowled, high fiving himself. “Still got it!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shinsou asked in the least serious way possible.

“Come on! That was funny!” Kaminari grinned, pulling off his shoes as he more or less invited himself in. Well, Shinsou did step aside to let him in anyway.

“It wasn’t really.” He shook his head, hands pushed inside his pockets as he didn’t know what to do with them.

“But you laughed!” Kaminari exclaimed, carrying the stove plate that looked like it weighted nothing in his arms over to the kitchen.

“I laughed because it was stupid.”

“Whatever the reason, I made you laugh!” Kaminari threw a quick glance over his shoulder at him, before putting the stove plate down right in front of the destroyed one.

“You didn’t turn on the fuse again, did you?”

Shinsou shook his head. “Why would we? I think you were the first one to ever touch that box in this household to begin with.”

That made Kaminari throw his head back with laughter. Why, Shinsou didn’t know but it made him feel warm that something he said made Kaminari laugh so earnestly.

“Are your roommates ever home?” Kaminari opened the cupboard underneath the broken stove plate, getting his flashlight to look at the high-tension socket. “Or just to break your stuff?”

Shinsou could see Kaminari’s shoulders tremble as he suppressed his laughter. Taking a deep breath and exhaling silently through his mouth, Shinsou leaned against the doorframe.

“They had some plans. Suddenly,” he added under his breath, shaking his head. “We do lots of stove together, don’t worry. They’re great friends.”

Kaminari’s whole body shook, giggling silently. He pulled out a small screwdriver and undid the lid of the outlet. There were a couple of silent seconds as Kaminari carefully pulled out the few wires, before coming up again.

“Wanna give me a hand?” He grinned, setting the flashlight to the side, still kneeling on the ground.

“And doing your job without getting paid?” Shinsou answered but stepped up next to the other regardless.

“Ha, you wish!” Kaminari pushed his lollipop around in his mouth, grinning widely. “Okay, just lift the plate when I push it up.”

“And I won’t get electrocuted for sure?”

“Alas, I’m too good at my job for this to happen. An unfortunate circumstance of being gorgeous and talented.” Kaminari shrugged, shaking his head with a mock devastated expression. Shinsou snorted against his better judgment and didn’t acknowledge the knowing grin from Kaminari.

The plate lifted up a few centimeters as Kaminari pushed it from below and Shinsou grabbed it around the edges, raising it up a little higher. It was, indeed, lighter than he thought.

“Great, thanks.” Kaminari stood up and took it off Shinsou’s hands, standing so close to him he could smell the strawberry scented lollipop through his lips. Kaminari put the broken plate flat on the ground, so as to not let any loose shards fall off. Shinsou stepped back to the side when Kaminari lifted up the other stove plate, put it into its designated place and was back on his knees within seconds. Talk about efficiency.

Another few hand movements and the wires were back in place, the lid was screwed back on the socket and Kaminari stood back up.

“Done and done. Just a last check.” He jogged out of the kitchen and Shinsou was surprised that he still knew where the fuse box was. He heard the switch being flipped and then Kaminari was jogging back in.

“Moment of truth.”

Kaminari turned one of the four knobs on the stove plate and with a silent electric vibration one of the four panels slowly turned red. Kaminari grinned self-satisfied and turned it off again.

“Perfect. Everything as it should be?”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” Shinsou nodded, a little impressed. That wasn’t complicated in the least and didn’t take as much time as he thought. Probably a lot more expensive than expected, though.

“Great, then I just need you to,” Kaminari fumbled through his pockets to pull out some piece of paper, “sign these papers off. To accept the repair and that stuff.” Kaminari tapped on some boxes Shinsou had to tick and the line he had to sign on.

“Yeah, sure.” Shinsou accepted the pen Kaminari pulled out of another pocket. For a second Shinsou skimmed over the paper, just to be totally sure he wasn’t in some kind of high caliber scam or something but everything seemed to be in order, so he signed it.

“Then we’re done here.” Kaminari folded the paper back into his pocket and saluted Shinsou lazily. “My pleasure.”

“Uh, sure.” Shinsou’s thoughts came to a screeching stop as he realized that Kaminari was about to leave. Like, for good. And somehow it made him anxious. He didn’t want him to leave, instead he wants to hear more bad puns and his contagious laughter.

“Have a nice holiday!” Kaminari crunched the last bit of his lollipop and waved.

“Uh, yeah, thanks. You, too. Don’t get electrocuted by another smashed stove. Or something.” Shinsou pulled at one strand of his hair, unsure where to look.

“I’ll be careful!” Kaminari laughed, popping in another lollipop. “Well, then. See you, hot stove,” Kaminari winked and was out of the door. Leaving Shinsou staring at the closed door.

What the fuck?

---

It didn’t help at all, that Uraraka was literally rolling on the carpet in the living room and Midoriya’s shoulders shook while making a face as to no burst out laughing, when Shinsou told them about his second encounter with the electrician. He never regretted moving in with them more than in that moment.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Midoriya held a finger up before covering his mouth, mumbling something Shinsou didn’t quite get. Uraraka sat up, wiping away the tears that kept on rolling over her cheeks.

“So, what if,” Midoriya looked between them back and forth, “the lollipop was a metaphor all along?”

Uraraka shrieked and fell back down, holding her stomach from laughing so hard. And Shinsou stared outside the window, wishing he was somewhere else but here.

“But jokes aside,” Uraraka said from the floor, spread like a starfish, “you gonna text him or something? Like, you both pretty much find each other … likeable.” They both burst into a small fit of laughter.

Shinsou shook his head. “Why would I?” he sighed. “Sure, mayyyybe,” he fixed them both with a glare and they pressed their lips together, “we kinda sort of found each other tolerable, but,” he leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms, “he just did his job and maybe that’s just his way to talk to customers.”

“Whatever you say, hot stove,” Midoriya snorted.

And if Shinsou threw them both out with a hearty kick in the ass, he would pledge self-defense for his mentality.

---

It wasn’t that Shinsou not thought about maybe texting Kaminari after all since he had his number after he called him. But it didn’t feel right to text him on his work phone just because he felt like his social anxiety wasn’t as bad with his electrician than with everybody else. What kind of reason is that? And then he got flooded with assignments for almost all of his classes due before the Christmas holidays and it kind of slipped his mind.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Shinsou said goodbye to Uraraka and Midoriya who both had promised their respective families to celebrate with them. They were home almost never already, that’s why they had these fixed days they just had to come home. And Shinsou felt warmed to the core, when they tried to get out of it to spend Christmas with him.

It was no secret that Shinsou would spend Christmas alone and he honestly didn’t mind. Christmas wasn’t a holiday he celebrated in the first place but just knowing everyone spent it with people they love sometimes can be pretty lonely. And spending these days with his blood rela- no, he didn’t even finish that thought. He rather felt like the loneliest person on earth than to spend Christmas with them.

So, he had to give his friends a crushing hug, reassuring them that he really didn’t mind, and he would text them as soon as something came up. It still didn’t make them stop crying, even when they were out the door and he waved at them until they were around the corner of the hallway.

His friends were the best.

The plan was to write a little bit on his paper about the impact of forced interaction because of holidays with family members and then watch a movie and order take out. Even if the stove was working again, it didn’t mean he had to use it.

When the doorbell rang at around noon, Shinsou looked up in confusion. He didn’t order anything yet, did he? He stumbled a few meters as his legs had fallen asleep sitting cross-legged for the past hours on the ground in front of the coffee table.

When he opened the door, it was his landlord Aizawa standing in front of him.

“Uh, hi?” Shinsou blinked, mentally going through anything that could have prompted his landlord to show up. They always paid in time, he wasn’t even remotely too loud to bother his neighbors, there was nothing leaking in the apartment…

“For you,” Aizawa held up a plastic bag, a food container shimmering through the almost transparent fabric. “Hizashi cooked a little too much. And we didn’t want it to get to waste.”

Shinsou looked at the bag and back at Aizawa’s tired face. He didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the floor.

“But your husb-,” Shinsou started but shut himself up. Aizawa’s eyebrow twitched up, but didn’t say anything as Shinsou took the plastic bag.

“Thank you, Aizawa.” Shinsou took a quick glance inside, but couldn’t make out anything specific.

“Merry Christmas, Shinsou,” Aizawa pulled up his scarf and nodded. “If you need anything, just give me a call.”

“Thanks, I will. And merry Christmas to you and Yamada, too.” Shinsou answered, raising his hand in a small wave. He looked after Aizawa’s back until he reached the staircase, where his landlord raised his hand one last time without looking back.

Shinsou went back inside and closed the door before leaning against it. He rubbed at his eye with the ball of his hand, squinting against the tear ducts that threaten to open up. Damn. he didn’t need to be around people to know he was loved so dearly.

But he for sure sent Uraraka and Midoriya a text message for snitching to their landlord that he’ll be home alone. But he also thanked them. And then send them a picture with the food container to make them jealous because they all knew what a great cook Aizawa’s husband was.

Taking a deep breath, willing his eyes to stay dry, Shinsou decided it was time for a break anyway. In the kitchen Shinsou turned on the rice cooker and then took a look at the food container. It was still a little warm and just smelled heavenly. Shinsou seemed to be in luck to get a taste of Yamada’s curry to which his growling stomach agreed.

He put the curry into a pot to reheat it, turned the stove on low heat and walked back to the living room to make some room to eat. It didn’t even take him five minutes when walked back into the kitchen, not even being able to wait twenty minutes, he tried to reason with himself if he even needed rice or could eat it crunchy and call it fried rice for a split second, as he stirred the curry.

Though … it didn’t smell any different, like it didn’t unfold its whole flavor when getting heated up. Shinsou dipped his finger into the curry to feel that it had cooled down even more. Blinking, he pushed the pot aside, hovering his hand over the stove plate to feel no heat at all. He turned the knob to the highest number, but the panel didn’t turn red at all, let alone get warm.

This just couldn’t be happening. Shinsou counted to ten inside his head, before turning the stove and the rice cooker off for good. His next action was to look up the landline of the company that had sent him the electrician that was “alas, too good at his job” and hoped they were still open.

Luck was on his side for that matter at least, since the call connected. The free-line signal went on for an alarming long time until someone picked up. A gruff voice answered, sounding like they had their fair share of annoying customers on Christmas Eve already. After getting through the greetings, Shinsou went right to the point. He didn’t brag about being the perfect customer, he was polite, for sure, but he didn’t suck up to them.

“The stove plate one of your electricians installed last week doesn’t work anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he didn’t sound genuine at all, but Shinsou didn’t care. He just needed someone to fix it. “We have someone for emergencies on duty today. As soon as he is done with his current assignment, I’ll send him over. That okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Great. Bye.” And he hung up.

Shinsou exhaled hard, nibbling at his lower lip. What now? Kicking his heels for between half an hour to five hours for someone to come? Working on his paper some more? Order some food already, maybe ruining his appetite?

After an hour he spent playing random games on his phone, upside down on the couch, the doorbell rang yet again this day. It didn’t make Shinsou any less anxious answering the door, though, even if he knew who it would be.

Kaminari stood at the door, cheeks slightly red, his chest rising and falling heavy, almost as if he hurried over here. Shinsou decided to ignore that for his own good.

“Yo!” Kaminari grinned, this time pulling out the lollipop and bowed slightly with his cap pulled off. “I’m terribly sorry about that mistake.”

“Uh,” Shinsou blinked. He didn’t expect such a sincere apology. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get something to eat, you know?”

“Yeah, totally!” Kaminari was back grinning at him and walked in as if it was already his own home. And Shinsou honestly didn’t mind. He even opened the fuse box to flip the switch for the high-tension outlet on his way as if it was the most natural thing to do.

“Your friends coming home for dinner, then?” Kaminari asked as he entered the kitchen, Shinsou slowly following him.

“Nah,” he tilted his head, one hand on his neck. “They spend Christmas with their family.”

“Huh?” Kaminari was already kneeling in front of the counter, looking over his shoulder like a lost puppy. “What about you? Does your family not meet up on Christmas Eve?”

Shinsou clenched his jaw, scratching his neck. “No.”

Even if he found Kaminari sympathetic and maybe even liked him a little bit, he still was a stranger and he didn’t need to tell him about any potential tragic backstory. And fortunately, Kaminari seemed to get the hint.

“Gotcha.” Kaminari pulled out his flashlight, leaning inside the cupboard. “I’m gonna spend Christmas Eve alone, too, you know? Though, some friends come over tomorrow evening.”

Shinsou blinked. “Uh-huh. So… what are you gonna do tonight?”

Kaminari had the audacity to lean back on his heels, looking over his shoulder with a smug grin. “What? You gonna ask me out on Christmas after meeting like three times? Shinsou,” he shook his head, “I’m on the clock, you know?”

Shinsou was speechless. Before he could even say anything, Kaminari leaned back under and this time opened up a small panel on the downside of the stove plate.

“Cat got your tongue?” Kaminari asked from inside, not sounding any less smug than before.

“Does your small talk always end up in something romantically and/or sexually implied?”

Kaminari looked, once again over his shoulder, pulling out his lollipop while smacking his lips lewdly. “I don’t know, does it?”

“Goddamnit.” Shinsou mumbled under his breath. Both done and frustratingly smitten with Kaminari. The offending electrician giggled before closing the panel and coming back to his feet again.

“The wire was a little loose, no big deal.” He said, back to his usual voice. “Should be no problems from here on out.”

“That’s what you said the last time.”

“Oh, did I?” Kaminari squinted at the ceiling as if to underline how hard he was thinking back to it. “Can’t remember.” He finally said, shaking his head.

“But now you really don’t have to worry about anything at all anymore.” He pushed his flashlight and screwdriver back into his pockets, unclipping his cap and putting it back on his head.

Shinsou nodded, scrunching up his face in annoyance or disappointed, he didn’t know either.

“Hey, Shinsou?” Kaminari asked around his lollipop as he put on his shoes.

“What?”

“My shift ends at around eight. Give or take half an hour depending on my last assignment.”

“And?” Shinsou raised both his eyebrows, playing nervously with the small hair at his neck.

“Well,” Kaminari chuckled but it was dry, not with its usual lightness, “I just… fuck.” He whispered to himself.

“What, Kaminari?” Shinsou pushed, his voice steadier than he would have thought with his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“I just thought, you’re alone on Christmas Eve, I’m alone on Christmas Eve,” Kaminari rattled on, not looking back at him, “and I just, you know, I just thought it would be nice to spend it with someone. Who was funny. Or something. You know?”

Shinsou stepped a little closer, seeing that Kaminari’s neck turned bright red and Shinsou had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat. Fuck, indeed.

“You like Chinese food?”

“Huh?” Kaminari turned around half way this time, his cheeks still a little red.

“When you come over, bring Chinese Food. Or Indian. I’m not picky.” Shinsou mumbled, suddenly unsure of what to do or say, kicking at nothing. But he didn’t miss Kaminari’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

“Chinese sounds awesome!” Kaminari stood up, suddenly in a hurry. “I’m gonna call you when I’m on the way! See you later, Shinsou!” He shouted as he ran out the apartment, not even bothering to close the door.

The next few hours Shinsou tried to concentrate on writing his paper, failing miserably. He ate some of the curry from Yamada and Aizawa and it was as good as expected but Shinsou found himself looking more forward to the Chinese Takeout. Or the company with it. So, he only ate half of it and put the other half in the fridge for tomorrow.

He ended up looking at his phone every other minute, writing a sentence, then looking at it again. It goes without saying, but he didn’t get any real work done and he knew he had to revise everything he wrote on the last page.

The doorbell rang for the third time this day but Shinsou’s gut didn’t do its usual gymnastic exercises and before he knew, he was already in the entrance hall, opening up. Kaminari changed out of his work jumpsuit into his casual clothes. A thick coat with a dark purple scarf and hat buried him almost completely. His nose was a little red from the cold as he was overall dusted in light snow. But his smile was wide and seemed to melt the snow and cold away.

“Delivery!” It was almost unsettling that there was no lollipop in his mouth this time and Shinsou could actually see the wide grin, showing off immaculate white teeth.

“Come in.” Shinsou tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, only being betrayed by his trembling hands.

Kaminari stepped in, slipping out of his shoes without untying them, threw his coat with his scarf and hat over the wardrobe and just walked up to the living room. Shinsou followed close by, clenching and unclenching his hands to keep them from shaking.

“Wait a sec,” Shinsou pulled his laptop and books to the side, putting them under the coffee table for now. Kaminari put down the plastic bag with various containers.

“I hope I chose right,” he chuckled as he unpacked everything.

“I think you don’t have to worry about that.” Shinsou hummed as he stared at the various containers, kind of a little bit of everything. Fried rice, fried noodles, chicken, duck, wontons, fried vegetables, to name the usual suspects.

“I just wasn’t sure, you know, what you preferred,” Kaminari sounded genuinely worried, scratching his cheek as his eyes hopped from container to container. And that’s when Shinsou noticed how Kaminari’s hands were fidgeting around, pulling at a loose thread on his shirt, his foot tapping silently on the carpet, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

“Sit down,” Shinsou motioned on the ground. “Be right back.” Coming back from the kitchen, Shinsou put down two glasses and a bottle of soda on the table, before sitting down next to Kaminari, who put down his phone as he came back.

Shinsou turned around to pull down his weighted blanket, holding it up to Kaminari. “You want some?”

“Oh!” Kaminari’s face lit up. “Is that one of those weighted ones?!” Before Shinsou could even nod, Kaminari grabbed at it and weighted it with his hands.

“This feels so strange!” He giggled. Shinsou shook his head almost fondly, taking the blanket back from Kaminari’s hands and putting it over their shoulders.

“Sorry, it’s a little small so we need to-“ – “No problem.” Kaminari interrupted him as he scooted closer, grinning from ear to ear. Shinsou swallowed. The blanket had a nice weight to it on his shoulders, grounding him a little and steading his pulse almost instantly. With a glance to the side, Shinsou saw Kaminari sitting with his eyes closed, slowly breathing through his nose.

“I really need to get one of those for myself,” he hummed, smiling up to Shinsou with his eyes only half open.

“It’s Christmas, after all,” Shinsou said lamely, looking away since Kaminari’s relaxed face did things to his heart he didn’t know was possible, “you just wish for it.”

“Mhm, from you?”

“You wish.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.”

Shinsou snorted, shaking his head once again. He just couldn’t keep up with Kaminari.

They started to eat, trying everything before settling on some things just one of them liked and sharing other stuff. It was rather silent at first until Kaminari just started to talk about some of his customers, how just absolutely horrible some people can be. And some just unbelievable stupid. At one point he talked about a job where he had to replace a smashed stove for what Shinsou shoved him in the face.

Somehow over the course of their dinner, they scooted even closer, their arms almost touching constantly and Shinsou only ever realized that when Kaminari laughed at one of his anecdotes about Midoriya (he cracked a bowl with milk and cereal already inside and slurping it as fast as possible, so it didn’t spill) and he buried his face in Shinsou’s shoulder, his whole body shaking.

He had to turn his face away, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. When Kaminari lifted his face up again and didn’t say anything, Shinsou could practically feel his eyes on him, looking through him.

“Hey.” Kaminari’s voice was quiet in contrast to before.

“What.” Shinsou mumbled, not trusting his face to be a normal color again.

“What if I tell you,” he heard Kaminari swallow, “that your stove stopping to work wasn’t a mistake?”

Shinsou felt all his reservation leaving him with a heavy sigh. He turned back toward Kaminari who looked at him with wide eyes, an unsure smile on his lips.

“You win, Kaminari.” Shinsou watched as Kaminari’s eyes squinted at him, thinking about what he meant. So, Shinsou made it a little easier for him.

He raised both his hands to Kaminari’s face, cupping his cheeks and caressing them with his thumbs. Feeling the skin under his hands turn hot and red, and seeing Kaminari’s lips part in surprise, Shinsou was this close to just getting up and leaving his own apartment. This was taking years off of his life.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Any objections?” Shinsou half-whispered, not trusting his own voice.

Kaminari shook his head in between his hands and that was all he needed to know. Shinsou leaned in, guiding their lips together. Both their lips were greasy from the food, tasting like the last dish the other ate, and so unbelievably warm.

Kaminari let out a quiet sigh, leaning closer and Shinsou felt his hands starting to tremble again. But then Kaminari’s hands were on top of his own, squeezing them reassuringly to calm him down. And it helped. Shinsou let out his breath he didn’t realize he was holding in through his nose, holding the kiss for a couple of seconds longer before slowly breaking apart.

“I think I just short-circuited.” Kaminari mumbled, snorting at his own joke.

“You say that as if you don’t have any wires loose anyway.”

“Wow, that was bad,” he snorted again.

“But you laughed.”

“Because it was so bad!”

“Just shut up.”

“Make me.” Kaminari wiggled his eyebrows, trying to hold back a grin.

“And that wasn’t bad?”

“Shinsouuuu,” Kaminari whined mockingly, so naturally Shinsou let him suffer for a couple of seconds longer before he leaned back in again himself.

#Boku no Hero Academia #fyeahbnhasecretsanta #ShinKami #Shinsou Hitoshi #Kaminari Denki #fanfiction

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i-want-anne-hathaway · 4 years

Text

Analysis of “Flat 15B” from Halls

This is exactly what it sounds like. I took apart the lyrics of the song to try and figure out more about the characters. I only have the brief descriptions George and Jen gave and a six minute song, but I tried.

Jessie

Jessie (Grace Mouat) is the person who immediately tries making friends and initiates the Flat 15B group chat. She says things and criticizes herself for it afterwards like when she says “#15B? Oh my god, who even hashtags anymore” and “Oh god, not a wink face.” She questions very small things she does in regards to other people. This could be one of the things she works on throughout the show.

“I don’t know how I’ll cope with sharing a bathroom” demonstrates some of that privilege George and Jen mentioned. She probably doesn’t have any siblings because if she did, she would’ve shared a bathroom at least once. This privilege is different from the privilege they mentioned Will having. Will’s benefits are a lot clearer to see, but Jessie’s are very small things.

She mentions relationships twice with her lines, “Mom keeps on telling me that the best days of your life getting a first class degree, while finding Mr. Right” and “Did you know that 40% of people find their partners at uni” so I think she may have a romantic plot or subplot throughout the show.

She says “moving in gets nearer” as if it’s something she’s scared about. She’s obviously nervous about it, but in a very subtle way. It’s expected to be nervous and anxious, but Jessie treats her fear like something to be ashamed of.

Zoe

Zoe (Olivia Moore) is our resident theater major. She comes off as friendly and open like Jessie, telling her “you’ve got yourself a wing-woman right here” in response to Jessie’s “Mr. Right” line. If I were to mark one definite friendship, it would be Zoe and Jessie.

The lines she has to herself are both about her clothes fitting in the car and how many shoes she’s taking. This doesn’t give much information, but people who overpack generally do it for the reassurance that everything they may need is with them.

Zoe is also nervous about this whole university experience, but she’s straightforward about it. She says “I’m feeling scared” and that fact she’s sacred doesn’t bother her like it bothers Jessie.

Natalie

Natalie (Millie O’Connell) has already made herself known as the party girl from the very first line she sings. She seems to be somebody who likes to joke around as shown in her line “Wink face? That’s a bit keen.” I’m not entirely sure that’s what she’s saying, but it’s definitely something making playful fun of what Jessie said.

She is already like, “I can’t wait for Freshers week,” which is a week long period before classes start to get Freshman settled. There are parties and drinking all the time, and Natalie wants in on that. “No one to check what time that I get home…” made me think she doesn’t want people concerning themselves with what she does. She’s kinda like “I’m just tryna have some fun, so don’t worry,” and yes, that was a SIX reference. I’m not ashamed of myself because it fit very well.

Natalie has this one track mind of going to parties and drinking. Almost every line she says has something to do with partying or drinking, for example “I packed my tequila.” This whole party attitude reminded me of Farrah from We Are The Tigers, and if they are similar, Natalie has some issues she’s trying to run from.

Josh

Josh (Tarinn Callender) is the person you hate, but you love. He also seems like a bit of a party person, but not as much as Natalie. Almost all of his lines are about sex and appearances.

He’s cocky and confident, as seen in his line “Can’t see any girl saying no to me when I move in,” but if I’ve learned anything from school, the people who seem incredibly confident and cocky are faking it until they make it.

Dan

Dan (Cameron Burt) starts his section off with “This has to be the thing for me” because he started university before but dropped out. He no doubt feels pressure to stick with whatever he’s doing because of the fact he’s already quit once. I can already assume he probably feels awkward being older than everybody else.

He comes off as incredibly shy and reserved especially with Josh and Natalie coming right before him. In comparison to those two, he’s like a mouse. Dan looks very chill and relaxed to me. Everybody else texted something kind of bold, like Josh or interacted with the others, like Zoe, but Dan just said “Hey everyone. I’m Dan. Nice to meet you” and sort of left it at that.

Sam

Sam (Sophie Isaacs) is our working class student who juggles multiple jobs throughout the show. She’s not exactly poor, but she’s having difficulties with student loans. She says she’s “packed all my life into a case,” which suggests she doesn’t have very many things to even take with her.

She states “I can’t believe I’m going to get out of this place.” She either hasn’t been anywhere but the area she lived, or she didn’t think she’d manage to get into university anyway. There’s a chance her family didn’t go to university.

“I’m not coming back” is said with strength and confidence. She’s determined that she's getting out of that small town for good. There is no way she’s returning.

“I’m not gonna slack, I’m gonna make my family proud,” follows that line. She certainly doesn’t slack off because it’s been confirmed that she’s always working in order to pay off her loans. She’s going to do whatever it takes to get herself through school and make her family proud. I’ve had her character for less than a day, and I would kill for her.

Josh, Dan, and Sam all claim that they aren’t scared, which is different from the previous group, Jessie, Natalie, and Zoe. Natalie never outright says she’s scared, but I’m pretty sure she’s more nervous than she’s let on.

Lewis

Lewis (Alex Thomas-Smith) is this confident gay character who helps the others on their road to find themselves. I’m not sure if that’s in a mom friend way of helping them, or a friend who roasts you every time you try to make bad decisions, but either way it’s great.

He says “everything will start again when I walk through that door,” implying there’s something he wants to redo. He’s confident now, but he definitely wasn’t always like that. There’s something that happened he doesn’t want to think about.

“They’re gonna see me as who I am, not who I was before” gives off a similar idea as the previous line. These could be references to his sexuality, but it doesn’t feel that way. This makes me think he’s done/said some things he’s not proud of. Sexuality isn’t a “who I am now vs. who I was back then” type of situation because if you’re gay now, you were always gay. It’s not one of those things that starts after some event, it’s just a matter of realizing. He was somebody before that he doesn’t want to be associated with who he is now, and I doubt that the reason he’s so ashamed of this previous version of himself is because he wasn’t out of the closet.

“Cause I’ve already wasted time being scared and having to hide” does seem like a reference to Lewis’ sexuality, but I still don’t think that’s what the other two lines were about. His sexuality can be a reason he’s confident though. A lot of openly LGBTQ+ people are more confident because they’ve already accepted who they were. This is supported by the line “I won’t have to lie” because it implies he’d lied about who he was before.

Will

Will (Matteo Johnson) is also a law student and is supposed to be a parallel to Sam. They study the same thing, but because of finances, Will is much better off than Sam. Because he has rich parents, he doesn’t have to concern himself with working to afford school.

He’s seen speaking to his mother before he starts singing, and it doesn’t appear like she’s able to support him at school. We don’t know what she’s saying, but Will responds “Yeah, no, I understand it’s your job.” Even as he’s doing what his parents want, they still aren’t able to be there for him. “I’ll see you at Christmas” implies that from when he starts school in August or September, he won’t see his parents the entire time.

“My whole life has always gone perfectly to plan” perfectly shows that Will hasn’t been making his own choices. His major probably wasn't his choice nor was the school. “Never straying from the path that they laid out” conveys the same message. His parents planned out everything he did, and he never questioned it. “For the first time in my life, I suddenly feel unsure” shows that he’s doubting whether he wants to follow everything his parents tell him to do. He’s even doubting the fact that he’s doubting himself, “maybe I’m just scared.” After not questioning anything his whole life, now he doubts everything. A major point in Will’s story is going to be finding out what he wants and stepping away from the path his parents have for him

THAT WAS SO LONG! If anybody actually managed to read that entire thing, I must applaud you. 1511 words of character analysis based off of one song. I have way too much time on my hands, but I’m just so excited for this musical.

#halls the musical #six the musical #six musical #grace mouat #millie o'connell #olivia moore #tarinn callender #cameron burt #sophie isaacs #alex thomas smith #matteo johnson #if you managed to read this whole thing #thank you #this is just speculation #but my english teacher says im good at analysis

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hopeshoodie · 4 years

Note

sorry this is kinda a weird question, but how would the s2 lis act like when they're drunk?

I actually super like this and would be open to do a ‘what are the s2 lis like on 💨🍃’ if interested

Bobby: I’m conflicted on Bobby. Either Bobby holds his liquor REALLY well and his choice of drink is scotch, or Bobby exclusively drinks beer. If it’s the later, Bobby’s a huge lightweight if given anything like a long island iced tea. Bobby’s a super giggly drunk, and will absolutely get super touchy feely. I kind of picture him being really needy when he’s super wasted, needing someone to tell him “ok it’s time to stop, let’s get you to bed”.

Carl: Carl’s a functioning alcohol, and I headcanon that MC really had to work on that with him once they got serious. I don’t think he’s even been properly trashed, save for maybe once or twice in college, but he used to drink a few glasses of wine every day. When properly drunk, I think Carl is really sad, I’m a sad drunk, and when I’m three sheets to the wind I tend to cry a lot and ask people over and over again if they still resent me for that thing I did two years ago. I can see Carl doing that, clinging to MC and sobbing that “I’m so sorry I’m not here for you. I know I should work less I love you so much please don’t leave me you deserve better.”

Gary: When I was in uni, there was a dude who jumped off a roof and broke like all of his bones because he was drunk. I can see Gary doing that. It takes a LOT to get him to that point, but once he is he has no impulse control. He gets into bar fights because someone says something rude and his first impulse is to throw a punch. Gary’s hangovers are the WORST thing in the world he feels like absolute garbage, but it doesn’t stop him from going out.

Henrik: Henrik is also a super giggly drunk. I don’t see him drinking very often, but when he does his drink of choice is a vodka cranberry. You know the trope of ‘drunk girl in a bathroom complimenting you and dispensing wisdom’? That’s Henrik, and the world is his bathroom. A ton of girls have broken up with their boyfriends after you took Henrik out to drink and he let them rant about their relationships, then really earnestly said, “it sounds like he doesn’t value you as a person, and keeps purposefully doing shitty things because he knows he can get away with it”. Drunk Henrik just wants to lay on the couch and have you play with his hair.

Ibrahim: I think Rahim’s the only one I can see as an angry drunk? I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I think he has a lot of sexism and classism that he hasn’t worked through, so when he’s drunk that really jumps out. He definitely hits on a lot of women, assuming you’re not out with him, because he feels really anxious about doing it sober. He definitely calls the ladies bitches to their face if they don’t accept his advances. He would NEVER touch a woman without her consent, but he’s certainly real bitter about it if he strikes out with everyone.

Lucas: I think Lucas might be an angry drunk too, but it all comes from a place of trauma. When he’s absolutely plastered he cries a lot and swears at his parents for neglecting and shaming him as a kid. He would never get into a bar fight or curse anyone out, though. I can’t see him getting messy drunk very often- Lucas is a lightweight who gets super flushed when he has even a little alcohol so he usually avoids it. The bars he normally goes to for work functions know his regular order is a virgin mixed drink, and he’s gotten good at subtly ordering non-alcoholic drinks. Drunk Lucas is probably the only Lucas that he lets you see cry.

Marisol: I’m not saying my girl becomes MORE intolerable when she’s drinking… But I am saying that if she argues with you before about dumb shit she’s certainly not going to argue with you less whilst drunk. The redeeming thing is that Marisol is less worried about being perceived well when she’s drunk, so she drops all the psycho analyzing and academic posturing. Instead of arguing about politics, she’ll argue about superior drink orders and what music is good. Marisol is a m e s s y drunk, she’ll take off and leave her shoes, earrings, purse, keys anywhere and everywhere. If she or MC get catcalled whilst they’re out drinking Marisol will let them Have It.

Noah: Noah’s a pretty quiet drunk. Often when you go out, he fades into the background. You’ll all of the sudden be like, “Where’s Noah, oh god we lost him,” and he’s always right behind you when you say it. He’ll usually order beer, but will accept anything with vodka. When they’re at home, Noah loves a good baileys or creamy-based booze for dessert.

Rocco: Rocco is an obnoxious drunk- loudly singing along to music and yelling across the pub at people. If you go out drinking with him, it’s super frustrating because he tends to run away. If you’re a pub, he’ll duck out and get halfway down the street before you realize he’s not with you anymore. The best way to keep track of him is to figure out if you can hear him shouting. He’ll drink anything and everything, but absolutely tries to convince you to do body shots.

#litg #ask #headcanons

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 3 years

Text

Maou-jou 9 - 12 (FINAL) | Idolish7 s2 10 - 15 (FINAL) | SLS 2

I’ve been holding off new seasonals because of other things, but after I post this I’ll have enough time to get around to them. That’s why I can’t guarantee winter 2021 seasonal tags on this post...maybe the next one will have them...

Maou-jou 9

…it seems shopping channels even are the same in the demon world.

Now even the demons have quests! (The frame is different to the princess’s, though.)

Oh! The quest failed.

Neo Alraune: in flower language, “the 2nd coming of happiness”. The worry from a little while ago was, “I’m worried about my brother.” The worry from recently: “I didn’t think about being happy that the princess didn’t kill my brother.”

The penguin demons are pretty cute!

Don’t you know how parents forbid children from sleeping until they finish all their homework? Must be something like that.

Yoku ganbarimashita! – Syalis worked hard!

LOL, mental age: 3. Poseidon likes cute things…I can’t read a lot of this…the hardsubs cover the JPN text.

They…both succeeded! (…LOL?)

Maou-jou 10

Owarinocity = Endopolis. It’s a good equivalent, if I do say so myself.

…oh yeah. What happened to Alraune? Update: There she is!

Also, that blonde guy in the infomercials doesn’t look too bad…*makes chef’s kiss gesture with one hand* Nice.

I wonder, was Twilight once human…?

LOL, there’s a goat symbol on the cleric’s pyjamas. Also “first time”, LOL.

I think they were playing shiritori at one point.

Hanamaru saikou yoku dekimashita!

Maou-jou 11

…How does one “sleep cheerfully”, anyway?

I think I saw Twilight drop something…some kind of paper…

Aw, Twilight blushing is kinda cute!

LOL, 70s shoujo style. Also, “It cannot be!”

Whoa, she cancelled it?!

I read up on this series on TV Tropes…and apparently the Demon King captured the Princess in her sleep.

Kagemusha? Like a ninja or something?

Apparently the Demon Cleric is much older than he looks.

Ooh! Hypnos is back!

A-whatsit really is abysmal levels of stupid!!! (LOL)

Maou-jou 12 (FINAL)

Who’s that one tiny guy occupying one of the Ten Kings’ seats?

*watching after Christmas, about a week after the anime finished* This is not seasonally appropriate!

…*thinks for a second, then spits* That’s the 2nd Nemu in the fall 2020 season!!!

Ooh, the head paladin doesn’t look that bad, either.

“…is it good to be…”

“…has seized the princess!”

“…that demon king is rather cute.” – See? Someone agrees with me.

Anyways, that was a fun series. See you soon!

Idolish7 s2 10

…Back at it after so long…(I can’t help it though – Crunchyroll, per month, is about double the local Funimation sublicensor’s fees, and for much less content that’s worth my money to boot!)

I’ve always thought Momo was like Sasara (HypMic), so seeing him anguished hurts me in the kokoro too…

I know Banri was involved with Re:vale somehow…this must be it.

…Male idols are also popular among men? Is this why there are 8 (!!!) idol anime in winter 2021 alone…? (Also, that’s why HypMic became popular? Multidemographic appeal crossed over with obvious merchandising opportunities?)

It’s kind of scary how Momo stepped the formality towards Yuki like that (to -san).

I guess in his heart Momo still reveres Yuki, some way or another.

The rakugo curtain really sold the moment that they (current Re:vale) were acting like an old married couple.

Yay! Silver Sky is such a cool song! Of course I recognised the intro when it came on.

…I see. The elder Kujo is entrusting his dream to Tenn, so that’s why he banned Aya from seeing Tamaki. However, it’s hard to know what to feel when Aya speaks in the vaguest terms possible.

I think that was a special ending for only this episode. I don’t know what its name is, but I guess I might recognise it on Spotify one day.

Idolish7 s2 11

LOL, Nagi’s reaction.

Considering the ‘rona is getting worse outside our very windows as we speak (type?), I think it’s correct to be concerned about your future right now.

Looking at these narrow streets reminds me of going to eat hotpot at the end of my Japan trip…only Japanese streets look like that, I think. Hong Kong’s streets are more crowded than that and America likes their suburbia.

Of course, when you say hajimemashite (nice to meet you), someone’s gotta say it back, hence the reply.

Considering there are people all over the world watching the Idolish7 anime, I would say you are telling the world about I7, Riku.

Oh! Restart Pointer! There was an MV for that one…I think it was around the time Idolish7’s MVs started getting better.

So this is the context around the new outfits! Cool!

There have been way too many puns about “idol” being…y’know, “ai (love) doll” and stuff like that…

I have one Twitter person who I follow (DejiNyucu, part of the creative team for Autumn’s Journey) because I don’t get much I7 content and they keep mentioning this “Haruki” person…and suddenly a “Haruki the Betrayer” showed up in the graffiti…they might be the same person, I think. Not Deji, but Haruki. Update: Sakura Haruki, perhaps…?

Sougo’s such a bad liar…

Sometimes, the best way to deal with things is to be direct…(I’m not very good at that, I naturally talk in a very roundabout sort of way.)

Sougo with long hair like Yuki would be really pretty… (<- has an obvious thing for guys with long hair)

Idolish7 s2 12

Nagi’s stupid accent is generally what he’s best remembered for (for me), so seeing him speak normally, and do a press conference on top of that, is…impressive.

A kabedon on top of all this! Whoa!

Shibuya 109 parody…? (I’ve seen that once or twice – parodying that means people know their stuff about Shibuya.)

I think the “it’s overflowing!” is referring to the hype in the “room”.

…this dejected Momo is worrying…(well, he is worrying and I am worrying about him.)

Oh, I see. The person responsible typed the letter so that they couldn’t be traced back. Kind of like those old movies where the culprit would cut letters out of newspapers to make threat mail, but…with even less traces than that, because cutting letters out leaves evidence.

…wow, it took a while for this ep. to have an intro…

…LOL, I just spotted Kenjiro Tsuda cited as the “fake Zero”, meaning the real one might never show up this season.

There’s something really stupid and infectious about these managers’ enthusiasm for drinking energy drinks. It puts a goofy smile on my face.

Is Musubi Tsumugi’s mother…? Update: Yes, she is.

…Wait, so the Chiba Shizuo guy is actually important?!

Idolish7 s2 13

Whenever someone says “by the way”, it means they’re changing the subject. I hate to state to obvious, but Sougo is clearly deflecting the topic of conversation from being about him.

I wonder if this guy (Haw9) is the actual Zero graffiti vandal…?

Hmph, I didn’t realise Tenn doesn’t refer to Kujo-san as his father, but…like that (“Kujo-san”) instead.

Oh hey! These are shots from Vibrato!

Most dramas can be solved with the power of Good Communication. That includes this one.

I feel like “he has a dark side” describes both Tenn and Kujo-san.

“Everyone, remember to wash your hands and gargle thoroughly.” – This is always a good thing to remember in the time of ‘rona. Reminds me of Jakurai’s line in ARB (<- this game started just after the ‘rona came down).

What did Sougo go to uni for (what specialisation)?

Idolish7 s2 14

I just realised Banri calls Momo -kun. Hmm…

Denki = electricity, LOL.

I feel like Tenn is basically Ramuda, give or take actual pink hair…guys in musical groups with pre-existing angst that they become the “centre” of. The fact Fling Posse have Saito Soma and so do Trigger strengthens the connection.

I would watch the heck out of a musical like that! Make it come true, Idolish7! (Also, today is I7 day! I’m not much of an I7 fan outside the anime, but…that’s cool!)

That shot of them jumping! I remember seeing it on the official site before!

Idolish7 s2 15 (FINAL)

There you go! I was wondering where Banri’s injury was – that was the only bit that didn’t add up for him to be Yuki’s old partner.

Hmm…Momo is 4 years younger than Yuki but 2 years younger than Banri…

This episode has a real concert vibe to it, to the point where I got startled by how loud the yell was at one point. (Even if it is mostly stills.)

LOL, lookit Okazaki!

Apparently, if you’re a hako oshi, you like all the members of a group. Someone with a green light and a pink light likes both members of Re:vale.

LOL, Usagi for Asahi beer.

…I forgot Nagi is 19.

…Ooh, I think that’s the kid from ZOOL. No wonder they needed a season 3!

That’s all. See you next time!

SLS 2

“fine and upstanding person” – That’s…hard to believe, Hayato.

I wonder how many bois Toboso designed for SLS…?

…The episode title is actually “Blank”. Not “Break”.

One of the guys’ shirts says moteki on it. That’s a period in one’s life where one enjoys more romantic attention than usual, literally “popularity season”.

The subs missed an I, so initially I knew Kiriyama’s name as “Kiryama”.

There are meant to be 2 wings, right…?

“He who controls information controls everything, right?” – For once, I’m surprised Hayato is right (and not just in that smug way of his).

“…I’m being treated like a manager.” – But Hayato is a manager! (In a sense.)

The plait guy jumps to nicknames really fast…also, why do I get the feeling Maeshima will lose the key?

I hate to say this Maeshima, but I side with your childhood friend (Kiriyama) here. As much as the anime wants me to back you, I’m watching for everyone else at this point.

That blocky building looks pretty cool. I think Zel (Archi-Anime) would like it.

Sasugai’s setup looks pretty cool, including his chair.

…hmm, Maeshima’s like me in a sense. I learn best by copying others, but memory is my best asset. If I don’t regularly train the fundamentals, I suck at everything. That said, I don’t have an eidetic memory. Also, I didn’t quite figure out Ken = Ken(sei Maeshima) until I watched long enough to connect the dots.

LOL, Derry’s. (<- reminded of a word for “butt” <- derriere)

Well, the guy’s (Souta…?) shirt does say moteki…

Kiriyama kinda looks like Jyuto (HypMic), come to think of it…Right down to his angry streak (although Jyuto has a reputation to keep as a “cool dude”, while Kiriyama is more of a Manza (Boueibu HK) and he’s more angry than he looks).

…This ED is nothing special.

…Hmm? Is that a small Terauchi and Maeshima…?

I think I’m sold for now, but I’m rooting for the other team, not Maeshima’s…not yet, anyways.

#simulcast commentary #skate-leading☆stars #idolish7 #Idolish7 Second Beat!#Maou-jou de Oyasumi #sleepy princess in the demon castle #Chesarka watches I7 #Chesarka watches Maou-jou

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petersasteria · 4 years

Text

Can’t Go Back (3) - H. Osterfield

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

Summary: Harrison is getting married to a different girl and Tom isn’t happy about it.

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Requested? Nah my dudes

Masterlist / 1 / 2 / 3

* * * *

Tom hastily enters his apartment and sees his brothers already there. Tom looks around and sees no sign of Harrison, not yet at least.

“You look like a deranged caveman...kinda like that Spongebob meme.” Harry laughs, earning a glare from Tom.

Sam laughs with his twin and nods, “Yeah, what gives?”

Tom sighs and gives one final look around before turning to his twin brothers, “I did something stupid and Haz is going to kill me. He’ll fucking kill me.”

“What did you do this time?” Harry asks, comfortably sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand. Sam sits next to his twin and Tom stands in front of the two and begins pacing.

“I invited Y/N to the wedding.” Tom finally says after picking up all the courage and confidence he had left.

“Whoa... Y/N as in, our Y/N? Like, his ex that we all love?” Sam asks. All Tom could do was nod in shame.

“What the fuck, man. How did that happen?” Harry asks.

Tom looks down in shame and sighs, “Remember when I said that I’ll bring Y/N into this?”

Tom didn’t have to say more, because Harry knew what his older brother was on about. Sam, however, did not.

“You fucking did it?!”

“Wait, you said what now?”

The twins said at the same time. Harry looks at his confused twin and catches him up on what he’s missed, “Tom thought that it’d be a good idea to contact Y/N, because he believes that she can stop the wedding and stuff.”

Sam looks at Tom and tells him that he’s nuts and that it wasn’t a great idea. “That’s exactly what I told this genius over ‘ere!” Harry rolls his eyes.

“What did you tell the genius?” Harrison enters the scene with a bag of Chinese food.

Tom’s face turned pale. Sam just quietly sits there. Harry looks at Tom and sighs, “Just tell him, Tom. Tell him why you did it.”

“Did what?” Harrison questions, genuinely confused. Poor Harrison.

“Mate,” Tom starts, “please don’t be mad.” He looks at his twin brothers, but both of them just usher him to just let it all out.

“What did you do?” Harrison raises an eyebrow at him and Tom gulps, “I invited Y/N to your wedding as my plus one.”

Harrison drops the food in shock, “You what?!”

“Oh, god. You’re angry.” Tom nervously says.

“Oh my god, the food!” Sam exclaims. “Wrong timing, man.” Harry smacks his twin’s arm.

“Of course, I’m fucking angry!” Harrison yells, ignoring Sam’s comment. “That’s my ex, for crying out loud! We broke up for a reason, Tom. Why did you invite her in the first place? Give me an honest answer. We both know we can be brutally honest with each other so just tell me.”

“Fine.” Tom says. “I don’t want you to marry Betty. I know you love her, but hear me out. You’ve only been together for a year and don’t you think it’s too fast to be proposing to her?”

Of course Harrison thought it was too fast, but he wouldn’t admit that to save his pride.

“I don’t want to wait for two more years to propose. I love her, so why wait?” Harrison explains.

“True love waits, Haz. That’s not true love and you know it. She wants your fame and money. She just wants the free travel and I know you’re not as happy as when you were with Y/N. She’s also very annoying. She’s clingy and she whines a lot. Obviously you don’t see that, because in your eyes, she’s perfect.” Tom says in one breath.

Silence. The twins were just watching from the couch. Harrison looked around the apartment, he didn’t want to look at his best mate right now. Tom kept his gaze on Harrison, feeling relieved that he’s finally letting out his thoughts.

“I invited Y/N, because I thought that when you see her, you might think twice and leave Betty or something. Look, I’m just trying to let you see what you’re signing up yourself to for the rest of your life. I just- I don’t see you spending the rest of your life with Betty. As your best mate, I’ve been supporting you since day one, but this is the one thing that I don’t support you on.” Tom continues.

Harrison finally looks at Tom and says, “Don’t fucking talk to me. I need to stay away from you for awhile.” With that, Harrison leaves.

Tom sighs and sits with his brothers on the couch.

“I’ll...I’ll clean up the mess.” Sam says, pertaining to the food on the floor. He gets up to grab the cleaning supplies and starts cleaning the food off the floor.

“What do you think will happen now?” Harry asks Tom.

“I don’t know, man.” Tom shakes his head. “I don’t even know if he’ll tell Betty.”

* * * *

-not proofread-

overdue bc of uni HAHAHAHAHA

Tagging my mutuals: @sweetdespairbarnes @fanficparker @myblueleatherbag @lcvelyparkers @tommysparker

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagines #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield #haz osterfield imagines #haz osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x y/n #tom holland #tom holland imagines

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salted-cushions · 3 years

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All the reasons I gave you, the things I wanted and didn’t want - they were real, but they paled next to you. Like candles lit under the midday sun. And I, weak and stupid, watched the sun set on my life for the last time instead of snuffing even one of my candles out. Now they’ve all burned out, and so I’m sitting in the dark with nothing but my regrets to keep me company.

Long-ass emo post that takes a long time to get the the point, be warned.

I have taken up running in the past few weeks. I am not a strong runner, but my aerobic capacity is slowly improving and I’m starting to enjoy it... slightly.

I ran a community 5K this morning, and the emailed me my results about an hour later. I ran it in 33:15, which was much better than last time but still slow as fuck in the grand scheme of things - the fastest guy there posted a time of 17:30ish, which I know because he lapped me about 10 meters before the finish line.

So I was pretty confused when they told me I ran the fastest time in my age category. Like wtf? So I opened the results page and sorted it by age category - and it turns out that out of 182 runners, eight of them were between the ages of 20 and 29.

Where the fuck do I find people my age to make friends with? Most of the people in my course don’t speak english well enough to really get to know them, and besides they tend to form their own little cliques based on nationality - the chinese students have their own little groups, as do the indians and sri lankans. The singaporean and hong kong group is a bit more welcoming (and they tend to speak better english too), but like... I can get along with them well enough, but not well enough to be part of the in crowd, y’know? And it feels kinda weird to be the only white guy hanging out with an entirely asian crew. Plus their main social activities seem to be hot pot and boba tea, neither of which I’m that in to.

I’d really hoped that I’d be able to make some friends doing this running group thing, but I guess only the young and old do it. Ever since I’ve moved back to the suburbs I just never see anyone between highschool age and middle age. And the people who are kinda around my age are like... young families who’re starting out with homeownership and having kids, just at a different stage of life than I am. I guess all the young people are living near unis or towards the city.

A few years ago, I wanted friends who went out and got drunk, had house parties, did drugs and had lots of casual sex. And I had that, for a little while, working at a bar near the city - we’d pull 12 hour shifts, sit in the bar after close and drink our paychecks, hit the clubs and dance for hours, hook up with strangers, crash somewhere for a couple hours sleep and do it all again tomorrow. But it’s not as fulfilling as I thought it would be, I think I only wanted it because I thought I missed out in my teens and early 20s. (Hospitality bosses want their employees to do this, by the way - they’ve created this culture where you basically get abused by them and the customers all day, then spend all your money drinking at your workplace to get the bad feelings out, and then by the time the next shift rolls around you’re so tired and hungover all you want is to get through your shift and get drunk again. It’s disgusting, and I hope I never work at a bar again).

So what sort of friends do I want now? I don’t really know. I want to be able to talk about things that are on my mind, share my accomplishments and have them celebrated, get support when I need it and give it when they do. I want to host dinner parties and cocktail nights, and go to my friends’ dinner parties and cocktail nights. I want to go to nice restaurants and classy bars for celebrations, and maybe hit a club and dance until I can’t stand once or twice a year - but not on a school night, that’s not very smart.

I guess part of my problem is I want to do everything and be accepted everywhere (thanks, ADHD). Not that many people want to go and see the ballet or a musical, and also get high and talk about life, and also exercise every day and be fit and healthy, and also get shitfaced and dance until the sun comes up. People I meet seem to have space in their lives for work or school, family, a couple good friends, and exactly one ‘other’. My ‘other’ is a list a mile long, and everything has to be done at 110% otherwise I’m not interested in the slightest. I miss dancing - but there’s no point taking it up again until I can commit $5k/year and 15+ hours/week to competition training, plus probably another $5k/year on costuming, shoes and travel. I miss world of warcraft - but there’s no point playing unless I’m gonna do 10-15 hours of keystones on top of raiding three nights every week. I miss league of legends - but there’s no point playing unless I’m gonna play four hours a night to keep my skills sharp, oh and also that game makes me so fucking angry that I’ve broken more than one keyboard playing it. I miss martial arts - I kinda wanna do jujitsu, but it’s so expensive and you gotta buy all the gear straight away, and I know that if I get into it I’ll start wanting to train every day and spend all my time and money on it. Plus I don’t always get along with the kind of people who do it - the typical BJJ guy is either an older dude who realised he was getting fat and had a midlife crises, or a younger guy with a shaved head and intense eyes with dark circles whose bought into the culture with a cult-like intensity and has the vibe of being on the precipice of getting an SS tattoo. I miss magic the gathering, but collecting cards for a competitive decks is an incredibly expensive and time-consuming process with significant setbacks every couple months when a new set comes out, plus MTG people tend to be have this unique combination of zero social skills, zero personal hygiene, and intense arrogance that makes them eminently unlikeable.

I like lifting, but I don’t really like gym culture - if it’s powerlifting, it’s all bearded bikie sorta guys listening to heavy metal. If it’s weightlifting, it’s very insular and cliquey (although the scene in my city is very small, so that might be a poor judgement). If it’s ‘bodybuilding’ - not people who compete, but guys who want big pecs and arms, and girls who want a skinny waist and a fat ass - it’s all ‘yeah brah’ meathead vibes and shallow instagramming. Besides, I spent all this money on my home gym stuff, so I can’t really justify paying for a gym membership just for socialising.

I like running, or I’m liking it so far. I don’t know about the people, they seem a bit too... normal for me. Everyone’s chatting about their spouses and kids and dogs, except the little group of competitive runners who seem to be more interested in training than chatting (funny that). Maybe that’s how I find myself and make some friends - keep moving towards having a house and a spouse and kids and a dog. That’s scary though. Is that what I want?

This has been on my mind a lot recently, to be honest. In a year I’ll be finished with my degree (theoretically) and hopefully find a professional, salaried job. What then? Except for the year I decided I would drop out of school and have a career in hospitality (bad idea), that’s been the point where my idea of the future stops for quite a while now. I know I want to buy a house or an apartment at some point, and since I found out that my sister and I are inheriting an interstate property homeownership is actually starting to sound realistic. I know, in broad strokes, the field I want to work in. But... do I want to live in the city and live the urbanite single life? Do I want to have a family and live further out where there’s space and more greenery? If my research project goes well, maybe I could try and get hired on as a research assistant, or if I find something worthwhile I could put together a PhD proposal (lol good luck with my amazing 1.1 GPA). I could work for the local government, or the state government, or the federal government, or a design firm, or a construction firm, or a consulting firm... the options are so many and I don’t even know how to begin evaluating them.

Of course it’s all a bit of a pointless exercise right now, because I’ll honestly take whatever job I can get when I graduate. There’s a lot of jobs for civil grads, but with my awful grades, dodgy resume and just being older than the rest of my cohort, I won’t have the luxury of being choosy. Public, private, non-profit, research, city-based, rural or even interstate - I’ll be submitting as many applications as I can and taking whatever I can get. And that will cut down my options for stuff like where I like and what kind of lifestyle I want to lead, like I can’t be seeing musicals every weekend and frequenting trendy cocktail lounges if I’m living and working off in Traralgon or whatever, and I can’t be living on a ten-acre rural plot with some sheep and a couple of border collies if I need to drive into the city for work every day.

I’m not ready to turn 30. I’m getting my shit together, but it’s so fucking slow and frustrating. At the start of the year I tore up my life and started from scratch - like I have every few years since I turned 16 - but I think and hope that this will be the last time, now that I’m aware of my patterns, medicated, and trying to plan for my future. But making those plans means... I need to figure out who I am and who I want to be. I need to separate what’s a part of me from what’s manifestations of ADHD. I need to figure out what I genuinely like, and what I think I like because it’s novel, or stimulating, or because I saw people doing it and instinctively wanted to mirror them. I need to dig through the ideal version of myself, the person that I want to be, and figure out what pieces are good and what aren’t. A couple years ago, I had this idea that the ideal me would say ‘I’m gonna do what I want, and the people who don’t like that can piss off.’ Well, I woke up one day recently and realised that I had no friends because that attitude had systematically pushed everybody that I cared for out of my life, so that’s one idea that I’m working on getting rid of.

There is one part of that which is very difficult for me to approach, though... and that’s my ex. She told me that she thought I looked hot with a beard, and so that became part of my ideal version of myself. I normally wear stubble these days - but with the nice clean line shaved into my cheek, just like she liked. I tell myself this is the way I think it looks best. But maybe I only do it because my ideal me is built for her. Before I met her, I already wanted to be fit, healthy and strong - dance training, lifting, sometimes running (but never sticking to it). But fitness was a big part of her life, and while we were together I absorbed some of that from her. It would be stupid to drop it from my life altogether, but I can’t help but wonder how much of why and how I do these things is constructed around her.

I never met anyone who understood me like she did. I’ve never liked sharing hobbies with girlfriends - inevitably they don’t quite get it, just as I don’t quite get theirs. Like, girls who wanted to play video games with me didn’t understand my drive to improve and be competitive - how when I play a game I’m constantly striving, in every moment, to be that little bit quicker, more accurate, more efficient, to make the right calls, to pick the right strategies. To them, a game is just a game to play for fun - and there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not how I enjoy video games and I’m going to be intensely frustrated for every single second of you clumsily trying to participate in something I’ve spent thousands of hours getting better at. I can’t even play Mario Party without becoming a ruthless monster, please let’s put on a movie or something before my head implodes.

She got it, though. Not with video games - she didn’t give two shits about them - but about fitness. She wasn’t like those people who come to the gym to half-heartedly do a set on every machine and then go home to eat ice cream, or the people who just do an hour of incline walking while watching tv and playing on their phones. She did research, and made intelligent plans, and took it seriously. She’d grit her teeth and push through the shittiest days, where lesser women (and men) would have cut their workout short and gone home. She badly needed to succeed, so badly that every little failure cut her to the quick. Healthy? Fuck no. But just like me. More than me, better than me. We understood each other. And let me tell you, you’ve never known love until you’ve watched your girlfriend grind her way out of a PR squat that by all rights she should have failed - and then seen the elation on her face once she’s racked the bar and realised what she just achieved.

Jesus, I’m close to tears now. I just wanted to bitch about not having any friends and I’ve once again segued into pining over her. God I’m so lonely. Why am I like this?

Reading over that last paragraph... it does sound like I have genuine feelings for her, and not just an obsessive need to recapture the one that got away. So that’s... good, I think. It doesn’t change anything really... it doesn’t uncover a new course of action to take, or instruct on how to manage my feelings better. But I don’t want to be that creepy, obsessive ex. I’ve felt like that a lot over the past couple years, but only internally... I’ve tried to leave her alone and done pretty well, I think. Like yeah, I think about her way too much and stalk her socials pretty regularly, but if she doesn’t see any of that then... it won’t make her uncomfortable. That’s the theory. And I’m getting better with the stalking... I just open her instagram and say to myself ‘see? still blocked and set to private. you didn’t miss anything.’ and then I can close it and go about my day. Not great, but... better than the alternatives for now.

This is where it all comes together. I want to text her, have another shot, lay everything out and say ‘I want now what you wanted from me two years ago.’ And I think that’s an actual desire, even a plan, not just me desperately trying to grab on to the last few shreds of dopamine I could get from her. But... I’m not ready, and it’s not the right time. I need to keep getting my shit together, so I can face her and be proud of myself. I don’t want to be embarrassed by living in an ancient, dirty and broken-down house - but I’m working on that. I don’t want to be embarrassed by my inability to stick to an exercise routine for more than a few months - but I’m working on that. I want be confident when I say I’ll finish my degree this year. I want to be confident when I say that next year I’ll have a job and be looking at buying a house. I want to be confident when I say that I’m quitting smoking - or, better yet, proudly say that it’s been so many weeks since my last cigarette.

I hurt her, in the past. And I regret it, and I’m ashamed - because as I’ve learned more about myself, the reasons are becoming clear. She wasn’t happy, and she would break up with me. I would say, ‘well of course I don’t want that, but you need to do what’s right for you.’ And then I would go cold for a couple of days until she inevitably came crawling back - until the last time, when she didn’t. I shouldn’t have let it go on. And why did I let it? Because I’m weak and selfish. Because I ignore issues that I don’t want to deal with, and happily go on with my life as if they don’t exist. Because I’m desperate for approval and validation, and couldn’t do the right thing by her because it would have meant losing a huge source of that. Because I think I can get away with anything, and I care more about whether there will be immediate consequences for me, rather than if something is right or wrong or affects someone else.

I took so much from her. Her friendship with our other roommate - destroyed, and at the time I said ‘that’s between the two of them,’ but I was the one who came into their lives like a hurricane. Her house - she was the one who had to move, even though she’d lived their long before me - I was the one who should have moved out, but I said to myself ‘she’s the one who’s leaving, that’s her prerogative.’ Her gym - I should have stopped going there when things were moving towards the end, but I didn’t. Then I told myself that we went at different times now and wouldn’t see each other, so it was fine - until one day when she came in, saw me, went to the bathroom and hid for at least an hour until I’d left. It shouldn’t have taken that much to make me change gyms - and for what! That gym was her community, for me it was just the most convenient place that usually had a free squat rack. And I took it from her. All of these things were so easy to justify - ‘I’m gonna do my thing and if anybody doesn’t like it - they don’t have to stay in my life.’ I was so fucking selfish, and I have so much regret. The only thing I could possibly do is apologise. And I hate apologies - words mean nothing without actions backing them up. There’s no action that I could possibly take that could give these things back to her, so all I could do is grovel at her feet and tell her that I’m sorry and that I’m trying to be a better person.

I’m scared. Even if I do get my shit together and sack up enough to text her, and even if she actually replies, and even if by some miracle she wants to try again - I’m scared that I’ll hurt her again. That I won’t have grown out of my selfish, irresponsible ways. I can SEE the patterns, but can I change them? I think so... but it’s not an overnight thing, and it’s not a neat and direct path from A to B. It’s a messy, unclear, painful and difficult thing that I have to do if I want to be a better person, if I want be capable of having a stable and loving relationship in the future. I can easily see a future where, if all the pieces fall into place and we start dating again, I just use her up and toss her away again - just like every woman I’ve ever dated. Then I’m back exactly where I am today - lying in bed emptying my feelings into the internet - and she’s twice scarred from having me in her life. And then I hurt the next woman, and the next, until I eventually die bitter and lonely, looking back on the trail of pain and heartbreak I’ve left in my wake.

I’m scared of the other options, too. I’m scared that she rejects me and it doesn’t help me get over her. What do I do then? This would be a real hail mary, there’s no third chance - hell, the second is already a stretch. I just cannot go on for the rest of my life feeling like this - it’s been two years! The first three months or so were by far the worst, but after that it’s like... this became my new baseline. A bit of ebb and flow, but never gone. Maybe it’s worse than usual right now because I walked past her last week... and maybe it’s worse than usual because I’m trying to dig these things out from the depths of my brain in the hopes that the light and air will cleanse them. Maybe by going through this phase of rawness and regret, I’ll be better equipped to move on and this will all die down. Although I’m pretty sure I would have to genuinely accept that I can’t have her, and... I don’t know how. Maybe an emphatic and absolute rejection would do that for me. I’d probably have to throw away some of the stuff she gave me. I don’t know. I’m not equipped to approach that idea right now.

And then... what if she says we can try being friends? How do I navigate that? I’m not capable of doing something halfway, I’d spend every waking minute looking for an angle. It’d be an opportunity, not a friendship. That’s... manipulative. I don’t want to do that. And I don’t want to lie to myself and pretend I could do that. I don’t think it would happen, anyway - I don’t see that coming from her. Although I have seen her being friendly with an ex of hers, so... maybe I’m wrong.

And what if she says yes... but then I find out that I was in love with the idea of her that I’ve constructed over the past two years, and the person she is now doesn’t resemble that at all? What if I was just caught up with new relationship energy and a novel person, and really the connection and rapport wasn’t as deep as I remember it being? What if I do everything right this time, and still end up unhappy? I know that dating is always a risk, but... I don’t want to be dumping her six months down the track because she didn’t live up to this ridiculous, unrealistic fantasy version of her. And I don’t want to end up a bitter old man in a loveless marriage, any more than I want to end up a bitter old bachelor with a collection of broken hearts. I think about it and I’m pretty sure that the connection we had was real, and the reasons I want her are real and accurate - but ever since I started wrapping my head around this ADHD thing, I’ve stopped trusting my perceptions of things so much. If I want something, my brain will tell me pretty much whatever I need to hear so that I can rationalise my doubts away.

And that’s part of this whole thing - all this work that I’m trying to do on myself, how much of it is for her? I say it’s for myself, but I wouldn’t put it past me to be rationalising it that way, when it’s really all part of a larger scheme to win her back. Like, I clean my kitchen benches with spray and a cloth every single day now, sometimes two or three times if I’m cooking a lot. I think that’s because I want my house to be cleaned to that standard - but she had extremely high standards of cleanliness, so maybe I’m just trying to make myself the person who can tick that box for her. And I can say, well, if that’s the case that’s ok - the motivations don’t matter as long as you’re improving yourself. But if that’s the case... what happens after I text her? If we get back together, and my brain goes ‘cool goal achieved, we can shut this all down now’ and all the good traits I’ve painstakingly developed collapse back into nothingness. Or if she says no and I actually accept that, then my brain might go ‘ok this is pointless now, let’s get rid of it’ and the exact same thing happens? I want to be a whole, complete person on my own - and a good, responsible, reliable person who does stuff like keep a beautifully clean house - and so the idea that all of that might be built around this hope of having her back in my life is... uncomfortable, at least. As is the idea that I’m constructing a persona who’s only purpose is to win back an ex-girlfriend, as if life is some stupid romcom.

This has gone way off track, so... I’ll leave it there. R, if you’re reading this... I’m so, so very sorry about so many things. I hope you’re not reading it, because I’m not ready - for the apology itself, or the conversation that might follow. But I also hope you are reading it, because that would put the ball in your court and absolve me from the need for action - and I’m still too weak to do the difficult things in life.

When I told you I would come with you, I should have followed through. And I had reasons for not doing that - like I told you in my letter - but looking back I don’t think I was being honest with myself or with you. I was just too weak to do the difficult thing, and so I told myself half-truths until they sounded true enough to tell to you. All the reasons I gave you, the things I wanted and didn’t want - they were real, but they paled next to you. Like candles lit under the midday sun. And I, weak and stupid, watched the sun set on my life for the last time instead of snuffing even one of my candles out. Now they’ve all burned out, and so I’m sitting in the dark with nothing but my regrets to keep me company.

That’s it from me, everybody. Thanks for reading my blog.

#adhd #long #long post #poetry #...sorta #relationships #adhd relationships #emo #regret #loneliness #a bloo bloo bloo #prose #i miss you #i’m sorry #blog post

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