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04mxfutbol · 2 years

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Introvert & Extrovert (Rose Lavelle x Reader)

A/N: This was requested, haha my first request! (: Yeah, enjoy! I hope I did it justice. Also I think writing for Rose is becoming something I like lol. She’s too pure for this world. Also Reader plays for the Seattle Storm (:

“Get up! Get up! GET UP.” You hear Sue shout from outside your room. Groaning you pull your blanket over yourself.

“It’s so early.”

“You still want free housing?” Megan shouts and you grumble as she knocks on the door.

You quickly kick your feet on your mattress like a toddler, the blackout curtains doing their job. A little too well for Sue and Megan’s liking.

Megan and Sue helped you get comfortable into the city. Being drafted to the Seattle Storm was always a dream of yours, playing beside one of the greatest, Sue Bird. Although Diana always tries to convince you she’s better and she often tries to persuade you into maybe joining her. Although you’d love to, Seattle has become your home. It’s been your home for three years now. Plus Megan and Sue have become basically your mothers. Don't do this, don't do that. Y/N don't forget your shoes, don't forget your sweats.. again.

“Come on kid.” Megan says knocking on your door again.

“But I’m tired. We had practice yesterday, I’m beat.” You groan out as you flip onto your stomach.

"You handle this, I have to get going." Megan says as she leaves.

“We’ll see a certain pale person.” Sue softly says from the other side of the door.

“That’s not fair you know you can’t pull that card.”

“But I just did. Now get ready so we can head to the stadium. Stewie is waiting for us.”

“Fine. But I’m tired. Don’t expect me to stay awake on the drive.” You say as you grab the first thing you can find that’s appropriate for today’s event.

But also something nice and comfortable because it is cloudy and windy. Typical.

As you had said previously, you were in fact asleep the whole drive to the stadium. Head against the window, your mouth slightly opened as you try to gain back those hours of sleep that you were robbed of because of this trip.

Stewie woke you up as you had arrived at the stadium.

“Did anyone grab my gum?” You ask as you get out of the car and head towards the stadium.

“I have it Y/N.” Sue says.

“What about my-.”

“Yes Y/N, even your slides.” Sue says as you walk into the stadium. “If I didn’t I wouldn’t be a good guardian now would I?”

You all walk onto the pitch, the Reign training for the game that’ll be happening soon. You feel an arm resting on top of your shoulder, you look to see who’s arm that belongs to and that arm belonged to Sue.

“I look good right?” You whisper to Sue.

“Oh for sure kid, rocking those nice shoes I bought you, a little of some over expensive stuff Megan bought you. All good, all good, you’re dressed wonderfully to impress a certain someone.”

“Don’t sweat it, it’s not like you two haven’t been dating for like a little less than six months?” Alysha says.

“Hey I’m just trying to look good for the people.” You say as you fix your hoodie.

“I think she meant for the girlfriend.” Stewie says wiggling her eyebrows, nudging your side with her elbow.

“So am I free to roam around now?” You ask Sue.

“No. Why are you always so impatient?”

“I have a short attention span you know that.” You say bouncing on your heels.

“Sue how do you deal with them all the time? It’s too much.” Stewie says and you scoff.

“That hurts.” You say looking at her.

“Trust me it’s not easy.” Sue says.

“Oof. Now that hurt.” You say as you walk away from the trio and over to Jewell. “They’re bullying me.”

“I got you kid, no worries.” Jewell says and you smile.

Meanwhile while Jewell kept you company, on the field there was quite the people surrounding said pale person.

“Rose, I see a certain someone.” Sofia says, making the cheeks of said pale person to heat up.

“Go talk to them.” Tziarra says.

“Why are you all like this?” Rose says as she walks away.

“Because we’re nosy.” Jess says, but is immediately hit on the arm by Lauren. “I mean we want you to spend time with them?”

“Nice try.” Rose says as she walks further away from everyone. “I’m very happy right here.”

"You two are just so adorable. The way Y/N just loves you is pure love." Ally says.

“I agree. Y/N has big heart eyes for you, just like you do for them.” Tziarra says as she puts her hand on Rose’s shoulder. “They are your number one fan. Just like you are theirs.”

“Y/N makes sure to hype you up every time you play. Posting you all over their social media.” Sofia says. "What I would do to have someone treat me like that."

“You would think that after your very cute picnic together, you two would be more affectionate.” Bethany says and Rose laughs.

“Please. We all know Rose hates too much spotlight.” Nikki says.

“The pictures of you two were absolutely cute, the polaroid pictures were also VERY cute.” Sofia says making Rose blush. "Give us more."

“Alright girls, the Seattle Storm are here as special guests.” Laura says as she walks towards the team, the team right behind her.

You walk over to Rose grabbing her arm as you pull her away from the crowd.

“Good luck, I’ll be cheering you on from the stands.” You whisper to Rose, giving her hands a squeeze. “You’ll do great.”

“I’m a little nervous.” Rose says and you smile softly.

“Just beat Portland’s ass. Do your crazy footwork and everything, make their defense fall and crumble!”

“You want us to win that bad?” Rose asks and you nod your head.

“Fall and crumble!” You shout.

“Everyone’s staring babe.” Rose whispers and you look around.

“I swear none of you know what privacy is.” You say as you pull Rose close into you.

“No we do, we’re just nosy.” Jess says. “I mean we’re- oh what the hell, we’re nosy.”

“Come on kid.” Sue says as she pats your shoulder.

“Is this new?” Megan says pointing to you and Rose.

“No?” You say confused.

“Sue?” Megan says as she looks over to Sue.

“It’s not new and you’d know that if you would pay attention to them instead of having an obsession over what kid here should wear when we go out.” Sue says and you nod your head.

“Yeah! Give me attention.”

“I do. Plenty.” Megan says flicking your ear.

“Suuuure.” You say and turn to face Rose. “Anyway, good luck baby.”

“Mmm.. Give me some time to get used to it.” Megan says as she walks away.

“Hey Rose, wrap it up! We get it you’re dating but you don’t have to rub it in.” Sofia shouts.

“Yeah kid we get it, come on let’s go.” Stewie says.

“Before I leave look at my shoes.” You say lifting your foot up. “Customized and bought by my good friend Sue.”

“I’m ‘good friend’ now?” Sue says. “I’m basically your mother.”

“Not now friend.” You whisper as you try and wave her away.

“Sixteen.” Rose says with a smile, tracing the number that’s been engraved on your shoes. “Cute.”

“We get it you both have the same number.” Sofia shouts.

“Fate baby!” You shout back with a smirk.

“Come on you. Bye Rose, we’ll see you after the game.” Sue says as she drags you away.

“Hey!” You shout. “Bye baby, kick Portland’s ass! Long live the Pacific Northwest! Long live the Pacific Northwest!”

“Why are you like this kid? I give you love, food, a home. Why must you do me like this?” Sue asks and you smirk.

“You love me despite me being weird. Come on let’s grab some food so I can maybe throw on you when I get excited or frustrated.” You say.

“Oh great. Yes wonderful.” Sue says as you both walk away from the pitch. "How Rose puts up with you, is beyond my mind."

“Y/N does know Portland is also considered the Pacific Northwest right?” Stewie asks Sue.

“Oh yeah, she chooses to ignore it though.”

After grabbing some snacks for mostly yourself, that will also most likely end up on Sue because you tend to just throw whatever you have when Rose plays. But also is it really your fault that Sue is the one who ends up the way she does? No, there’s other places to sit. So no it’s not your fault. It’s hers.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING! PASS THE BALL!” You shout as you jump up from your seat. “PASS IT!”

She is quick to grab the bag she brought with your stuff, searching for what could potentially save her from food getting dropped on her again.

“Y/N hand.” Sue says, you’re too busy watching the game to even bother why she wants your hand.

Sue places something in your hand, you’re quick to realize it’s your stress relief ball that she bought for you. Not only is it for stress relief, but seeing as your attention span is very short, it sort of distracts you.

“Oh thanks. I’m better.” You say as you take your seat.

Meanwhile the whistle blew signaling halftime.

“I swear I can hear the kid.” Megan says as she walks into the tunnel.

“Rose, your girlfriend is absolutely my favorite person.” Sofia says, tapping Rose on her back. “You can tell they know their stuff.”

“Yeah that’s Y/N for you.” Rose says with a smile, looking up to see where you and the team are sitting. “Y/N is the best.”

“Ten dollars Sue already gave Y/N the stress relief ball.” Jess says.

“Twenty dollars, that Sue gave it to Y/N by the fifteenth minute.” Lauren says. “Rose?”

“I know my Y/N pretty well, you’re all wrong.” Rose says walking into the locker room.

“Joining us tonight your very own, our very own, Seattle Storm!” You hear the announcer say through the stadium.

Halftime was gone and the game resumed, you were fidgeting the ball in your hand, looking where the ball was going every play. Silently cursing as Rose missed a shot.

Two minutes later Bethany scored. Making the score 1-0. You jumped from your seat as you waved your Reign scarf.

“LET’S GO!” You shout. “Sue support your girl.”

“Oh she knows I do.” Sue says as she and the rest of the team clap as the team had just scored.

“LONG LIVE SEATTLE! The superior Pacific Northwest city!” You shout.

In less then five minutes, Ally had scored, making it 2-0.

“YES!” You shout.

“Why exactly does Y/N not acknowledge that Portland is part of the Pacific Northwest?” Alysha asks Sue.

“Y/N is just Y/N I don’t know what goes through her mind.” Sue says shrugging her shoulder.

“GOAL.” You shout.

Megan lifting her foot up just enough to pat her cleat and pointing up to where you and Sue were. You knew exactly what that meant.

Megan and Sue definitely thought of you as their kid, Megan made sure that when she would get her cleats, to have not only Sue’s number engraved, but yours as well. A little family.

“YEAH MOM!” You jokingly shout which Megan heard surprisingly, which made her laugh.

As the final whistle blew Rose made her way over to Sofia and Bethany.

“Assisting for your girlfriend’s mom huh?” Sofia says chuckling.

"Shut up." Rose mumbles, cheeks heating up as she looked your way.

“Who’s superior?! SEATTLE!” Rose hears you shout. “Long live the superior Pacific Northwest city!”

“Oh god.” Rose mumbles, cheeks heating up as she looks away.

“The shy one and the extrovert. How romantic.” Jess says walking past Rose and the others. “Good job team.”

“Y/N’s asking for you.” Alana tells Rose.

Rose made her way towards you, big bright smile on her face. The smile you loved and the person you loved dearly.

“Baby you did great! 3-0!” You say and Rose smiles at you. “Proud of you.”

“I’m glad you were able to come.” Rose says as she reached for your hand. “I’ll see you outside?”

“I’m actually going to dinner with the team.” You say awkwardly.

“It’s a combined dinner. Both teams.” Sue says.

“Oh then I’ll see you outside.” You say with a smile.

“See you then.” Rose says.

“Rose is so shy then there’s you.” Sue says.

“I can be shy too.” You say and Stewie snorts.

“What?”

“It’s impossible.”

“Is not.”

“Is so, now come on we have to go meet the team outside so we can all go to dinner plus I don’t need a grumpy Y/N not being able to see Rose as soon as possible.” Sue says.

“You know me so well.” You say hugging Sue.

“I wonder why.” Sue says as you both walk out of the stadium.

You patiently (sort of) waited for Rose to come outside so you could finally see her. While doing so you happily met some fans, signing some shirts and taking pictures.

As soon as Rose was coming out, you said your goodbye to the fans so you could finally spend some time with your girlfriend.

"Hey you." You whisper as you grab her hands. "Ready to leave?"

"So ready, I'm hungry." Rose says.

You and Rose make your way to the car, leaving your teammates behind.

"So they're together?" Megan asks Sue.

"Megan. Why else would Rose be over all the time." Sue says.

"I don't know. They're so polar opposite. Y/N is more extroverted, Rose is not."

"You gotta admit they are kind of cute." Sue says.

"Kind of? They're so cute." Sofia says walking past them.

“So cute.” Nikki says walking past the couple. “Sue you’re raising a good one.”

“I’m technically her mother too.” Megan shouts, making Sofia and Nikki laugh.

“Yet you didn’t know they’re dating.” Nikki says.

“Long live the superior Pacific Northwest city!” You shout. “We rule the rivalry!”

The girls all look over towards the both of you, Rose shaking her head as she tries to hide the fact that she’s with you.

“They complete each other.” Sofia says.

“Every extrovert needs an introvert. Just like every introvert needs an extrovert.”

#rose lavelle x reader #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso imagine

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nottyourlover · 2 years

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Cliché.

a/n: very cliche and ooc character draco, he’s smilier :)

summary: you and draco sneak out of a party to stargaze.

warnings: party setting, fluff and flirting lol.

word count: 1022.

I look around the room, clutching my cup harder than necessary. The dim lights did not make it easier to spy my friends, though. The tight, green silk dress I was wearing felt hot and itchy on, even though it was freezing in the Slytherin common room. I looked in the mirror before leaving, and Daphne said I looked beautiful, and I certainly felt it then, but the hairs on my neck were standing up. I almost felt like I were being constantly watched. But then again, it’s a party with over 60 people, so I was probably right.

I look around for Daphne and Pansy and see them dancing together. They’re laughing and smiling, and then I see them kiss, and for the first time too, I imagine. I laugh to myself. Daphne had been going on and on about Pansy these last two weeks before the party. I’m so happy to see it worked out for her. And secretly happy I don’t need to listen to her pining over Pansy but can instead listen to her excitedly talk about Pansy instead.

“Hey,” a voice next to me. I turn around and face Draco.

Even though we shared a friend group, I was new to Hogwarts this year, from Beauxbatons, so I wasn’t really close to anyone except Pansy, Blaise and Daphne.

Before I got to know him, I’d seen him in class. Always disruptive with Crabbe and Goyle yet always getting an outstanding grade. I’d seen him in the hallways, picking on first years and cursing the muggleborns or half-bloods. When I first saw him, he was bullying some poor Gryffindor second year. Not the best first impression but when we’re better friends I’ll grill him on his behaviour. You laugh at the thought.

He was so intimidating, yet so enigmatic. Sure, he’s tall, and good-looking and smart and all sorts of other things. He was an enigma.

“Hey,” I reply.

“You look like you’re not enjoying the party,” he says, turning towards me and copying, his head also resting on the wall.

I laugh, and see him smile, just slightly. “I dunno, maybe I like standing in dark corners alone, Draco. You’ve just insulted me,” I deadpan.

He laughs (a nice sound, you note) and you grin.

“I see Pansy and Daphne are over there together,” we glance over and my smile widens. “About time,” he says to me.

I laugh again. “Yeah, definitely.”

The silence stretches between us.

“Y’know, y/n, I didn’t even want this party,” he admits. I cock my head.

“But it’s literally for you, to celebrate Slytherin’s quidditch win. Honestly, Dray, you were great in that game, even in the rain you caught the snitch!” I smile.

His eyes widen slightly. “Dray?”

My eyes widen slightly. “Sorry, is that not okay? I mean I hear Daphne and Pansy call you that all the time and we’re friends, right? I’m rambling. I’ll stop.” I tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, using this moment to hide my embarrassment and look down.

“No, no, it’s fine. I like hearing you say my name.” He smirks. I watch him run a hand through his already disheveled hair, causing it to look even messier. He looks at the door behind me.

“Who even says that anymore, Draco? It’s so cliché,” I mutter. Deep breaths in, and out to slow my racing heart.

He just shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. You watch his eyes travel down your dress and he starts to smile. “You always look beautiful.”

An unsteady breath comes out. “Thank you... Dray.”

I was testing the waters with his nickname, as one might say. But I’ll consider the waters “tested” and my mission failed, because the silence stretched again, a little awkward this time.

Then, standing on my tippy-toes, I fixed a loose strand of hair curled near his ear. My breath hitched as he bent down and let me smooth it out.

Draco smiles, and my heart aches. “Wanna leave here?” he asks.

“And go where?”

“I know a spot, and it’s dark out, so it’ll be great.”

I follow him through Hogwarts’ many hallways and up many flights of stairs until we reach the astronomy tower.

“Don’t tell anyone this, I have a reputation to uphold,” he jokes. The open air feels nice on my skin, but I still feel hot. Maybe it’s just the proximity. You shiver slightly.

“Ha, ha, Slytherin Prince likes to... doodle pretty stars?” you smile as he pulls out a small notebook from his pocket and lets you flick through the pages.

“Funny, y/n. It’s astronomy, I’m drawing the constellations. The Slytherin Prince doesn’t just ‘draw pretty stars’. Though I wouldn’t be opposed to using my spectacular artistic ability and drawing you.” He winks smoothly. You feign disgust and slap his arm, laughing uncontrollably.

You mock him. “Is it because I’m just such a pretty, shining star in your life?” You’re only a little bit shocked by how bold you are.

“Undoubtedly, y/n/n.” He smiles at me with what I hope for my heart’s sake is mock affection. I’m surprising myself with how fun it is to be around him, and how carefree I feel. My friend Ilaria from Beauxbatons would joke that it’s the “friends to lovers trope”. I smile inwardly at the memory of her and her excessive referencing to romcom book tropes.

“Maybe someday, Draco.”

“Call me Dray.”

“Okay, Dray.”

This time, when the silence stretches, it’s not awkward. We both lie on our backs and he points out all his favorites. He tells me about Sirius, Scorpius and Lyra, his top three. It’s adorable that he has top three favourite constellations.

“I’m named after a constellation.” he says suddenly, looking over at me.

“That’s such a cool backstory. Actually, Lyra and Scorpius especially are such cool names. I can see why someone would want to name their kids after constellations.”

He sits up, and I do too, slightly confused. “Yeah, you’re right. Those would be the perfect names for our kids,” he laughs loudly.

I laugh before teasing him. “Keep dreaming.”

#pansy x daphne #draco fanfiction #draco fluff #draco imagine #draco x reader #draco x yn #draco malfoy #dray #yay #ugh how cringe

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garciaasfluffypen · 2 years

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bestie can you do an eddie munson x grungey reader? like someone with that classic 80's/90's grungey look and like eddie matching band tees with them?

to run into your arms (pt. 1)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader wc: 1.6k warnings: bullying (j*son and andy are dicks), pot mentions, perhaps a gl*e mention, softie!eddie (he lets you borrow one of his shirts), eddie calls reader “sweetheart”, also calls the reader “lady”

this is def gonna be split into two parts, it got long lol

it wasn’t every day that eddie munson found himself staring at one particular girl. but that had been his life for the past few months as he realized that y/n was probably the coolest girl around. scratch that. she was the coolest girl around. since moving to hawkins, he had been branded the “freak”. it was probably because he didn’t want to get stuck in the conformities that society had put forward, and it could also be because he was a metal head. or maybe it was because he sold drugs. who really knew? not him. he didn’t give a flying fuck.

that was, until y/n stepped foot into school.

he had no clue there was going to be a new student coming in this year. not at all. obviously the new batch of freshmen were coming in but a new senior? now this was next level. and ozzy above, she had absolutely gorgeous eyes. and surprisingly enough, she dressed a lot like him. jeans with rips that showed the fishnets she was wearing under them, usually with a band t-shirt tucked under what looked to be a very worn down leather jacket with- was that a dio patch on it? eddie was absolutely captivated by this girl, and he needed to be her best friend, approximately ten minutes ago.

“hey, watch where you’re goin’ freak!”

eddie snapped out of his trance as he saw y/n fall to the ground to pick up the books that had fallen from her arms as andy stood over her. of fucking course the jocks had gotten to her before he did. just his fucking luck.

“speak up princess, i can’t hear you over that bullshit you have playing on your walkman. what are you even playing?” jason stepped up to her and ripped the walkman off her jeans, aggressively pulling the tape out and throwing it to the ground. “oops. doesn’t matter now.”

eddie could tell from a mile away that y/n was about to cry, and it took all his will power not to step in and do anything. all he could see was red, and he had to get out of there and fast. so he did what he did best.

he ran.

------

lunch time was supposed to be peaceful, you had thought. that was, until jason and his band of idiots decided to ruin your brand new metallica cassette. you had spent the extra pocket money that you had gotten from chores and babysitting the week before you moved to buy it, and it was one of the last fun and happy memories you had of that stupid old town in stupid old wyoming. but that was then, and this was now, and you were currently sitting on top of a picnic table just past the football fields, using a pencil to try and wind the tape back to the beginning.

a twig snapped somewhere around you and you shot up, pencil falling from your grip as you got ready to run. it was what you did best. running. always running from all your problems- which was probably why you simply let jason and his idiots walk all over you since you started here in hawkins. what were you going to do, fight back? he was a basketball player and you were simply a nobody in the school. the new girl at most. he’d simply laugh in your face and shove you into a locker before he moved onto his next prawn.

“oh, sorry.” you looked up to see a boy, dressed a lot like you, sheepishly standing at the entrance to the clearing. “i didn’ see you there.”

“oh no worries, i was just trying to fix my cassette. i needed some time to calm down.” you met his eyes, and oh gods they were beautiful. “hawkins can be a lot.”

“you’re tellin’ me.” the boy came to sit at the table with you. “ ‘ve been here three years an’ it doesn’t get any better, sadly.”

“damn, i was really hoping it would.” you chuckled. “but i mean i met you so that has to be good.”

you couldn’t help but notice him blush.

“i’m y/n by the way.”

“eddie. munson. eddie munson.”

“oh yeah, i think we have history together. with mr. stein.”

eddie nodded, rolling his eyes. “i feel like i need to be high to get through his lectures sometimes. he’s just so boring.”

“you smoke?”

“yeah, you?”

“sometimes. mainly socially.” you shrug. “i used to go back to a lot of parties in wyoming but that was because my plug would always throw them.”

“oh believe me, you don’t want to go to a party here. they’re thrown by steve the hair harrington and good ozzy are they boring.”

“did.. did you just say ozzy instead of god?” you spoke through your laugh, trying to hide your amusement.

“maybe i did. what about it?”

it was cute. “not much. just curious as to why you say ozzy instead of god.”

eddie scoffed playfully. “because ozzy is god.”

“and bon jovi isn’t?” you rose an eyebrow.

“come on y/n, we both know that ozzy is the true god of metal.”

before you could answer, the end of lunch bell rang, signaling to both of you that you had to leave your little hideout. you let out a big sigh, grabbing your bag and your still messed up cassette.

“guess i can count this as a goner.”

“lemme take a stab at it.” eddie held out his hand. “i might be able to fix it.”

“you sure? jason fucked it up pretty bad.”

“i’m a magician with my fingers, sweetheart. i’m sure i can fix it.”

and if he couldn’t, he would run around this whole stupid town looking for a new one, but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“if you insist, kind sir.” you dramatically placed the cassette in his hands. “i’ll see you later?”

“i’ll see you later.”

------

eddie didn’t usually go to 7-11, but he figured it would be nice to treat himself to a slushie after finally mustering up the courage to talk to you. he practically skipped down the aisle as he made his way to the machine, deciding last minute to duck behind the snack area when he saw an all too familiar letterman jacket. maybe he’d grab some pretzels to enjoy tonight too. or maybe some corn nuts. maybe he’d go wild and get not one, but two twinkies. the door bell jingled and he automatically knew without looking that you happened to walk in, simply by the way the leather arms of the jacket swished against the sides.

you walked right past him, not even noticing he was there, going straight for the slushie machine. considering how hard today had been for you, since you had lost your comfort cassette, you figured a slushie couldn’t hurt. what you didn’t notice at all was how jason and his friends were plotting in the corner. but eddie noticed. before he could say anything, the sound of slushie coming out of a cup and landing on a person’s chest could be heard as jason’s groupie laughed their asses off as they ran outside of the store. he rushed around the aisle to see you standing there, covered in red slushie.

“y/n-”

“eddie, i-”

“i got an extra shirt in my car, come on. i got ‘cha.”

eddie slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter on the way out, quickly explaining to the poor sophomore what had happened. you met him outside as he led you to his van, opening the back door and rummaging through the blankets before he found one of his extra shirts he always kept in the back.

“it should hopefully fit you. you can change in the back, there should be a plastic bag somewhere we-you can put your shirt.”

you smiled. “thanks, eddie.”

you waited until eddie shut the door to the back of the van before you pulled off the slushie covered shirt, setting it down on what seemed to be an empty piece of carpet before pulling eddie’s shirt over your head. it smelled exactly like him- a mix of cigarettes, pot and the woods. which you decided were now your favorite smells in the whole world. for no particular reason, of course. even if that reason was cute. his shirt was perfectly oversized, sitting on your frame a little skewed but enough to look nice. the metallica logo looked back up at you as you brushed a few crumbs off of the front, pushing the van door open and grabbing your bag from eddie, making sure to reach back in and grab your stained shirt.

“thanks again, i’ll wash your shirt tonight and bring it back.”

“you can keep it, if you want. i mean, until you can get your shirt cleaned ‘cus who knows how long that’s gonna take.”

you chuckled. “you like seeing me in your shirt, munson?”

“i- i mean, i-” he stuttered. “it does look good on you.”

you took a few steps away. “see you tomorrow?”

“wh-where are you going?”

“home? i thought that was obvious.” you raised an eyebrow, smirking. “you tryin’ to stalk me now?”

“i was gonna ask if you needed a ride home.”

“oh. i mean, if you wanna.” you shrugged. “i don’t live that far away, it wouldn’t be that bad of a walk.”

“oh, but i insist. only the best for lady y/n.”

it was your turn to blush now.

“well in that case, lead the way, sir munson.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #an i (queue) of 187

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chobit92 · 2 years

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House Of Wax: Part Twenty

@rubycstory07 😊

Not sure if anyone is still reading this but hey. Not sure if I like this chapter, think I’ve made Vincent too soft, he probably would have stabbed her lol

Warnings: Rape (Mentioned), Miscarriage (Mentioned), Self harm (Mentioned)

(Kaia wakes up and squints at the brightness of the room. Someone’s opened the grubby curtains and the sunlight is streaming into the room. She has spent most of the last two weeks lying in bed. She hasn’t eaten much and has mostly just slept. Vincent had stitched up her wounds, dabbed TCP on her split lip and then carried her to bed. She looks down at her arms which are still bandaged. One because of a wound she herself made. The other Bo and his knife. She wonders why Vincent took such good care of her afterwards. Perhaps her plan is starting to work after all. Perhaps she can convince him that Bo is evil and they would be better off without him. But then maybe he only fixed her up because Bo told him to. He always does exactly as Bo says after all. She sighs and closes her eyes trying to go back to sleep. She hears the door open a few minutes later and footsteps. She tenses up waiting for hands to start pawing at her. She hears something being put down on the bedside cabinet.).

Lester: Thought you might want some breakfast.

(She doesn’t move.).

Lester: Come on girl you gotta eat, no use starving yourself.

Kaia: Piss off. What do you care? You’re just as sick as he is.

Lester: Now look I’m trying to be nice to you.

Kaia: Well bang up job ya’ll are doing.

(Lester sighs.).

Kaia: Just go away and leave me alone.

Lester: Look I ain’t saying it’s right what my brother did...But did you honestly wanna have his kid?

Kaia: It was my baby too.

Lester: So you wanted it?

Kaia: I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t want to be raped, I didn’t want to be beaten and tortured and held captive. I didn’t want to be pregnant and I didn’t want someone to beat me so bad that I lost a baby. I also don’t want you coming in here bringing me fucking breakfast and telling me that you’re trying to be nice. Fuck off. I dread to think what it would be like if you were all horrible to me.

Lester: Well...It’s there if you want it. Coffee too. I’ll leave you to your pity party.

(Lester leaves the room closing the door behind him. Kaia lets out a sob and closes her eyes. Fucking bastards.).

(It’s late afternoon and Kaia is sitting in the church next to Whitney. She is crying. This is the first time she’s left the house in two weeks.).

Kaia: I can’t believe this is happening to me. Why me? Why us? You know what he’s done now? He got me pregnant then when he found out he beat me so bad that I lost the baby. I’m still bleeding. I should probably see a doctor really but that ain’t happening is it? Be just my luck wouldn’t it? Survive Bo for this long only to get killed by a fucking infection or some shit! I thought Vincent was different but now...I’m not so sure. He just stood there and watched Bo beating me. He just watched as I lost my baby and he did nothing. Nothing! Why would you do that?

(She wipes her eyes.).

Kaia: I tried to kill myself. Slashed my wrist with a razor. But oh no I’m not allowed to die am I? No not until Bo says! Vincent patched me up. He took care of me. It kinda felt like he cared. Kinda didn’t. But then I realised that he probably only did all that on Bo’s orders. He’s the boss and everyone has to do what he says. God he’s such a fucking bully!

(Then don’t let him be. Fight back.).

Kaia: With what? I have nothing.

(Even if she managed to hurt or kill Bo his two brothers would have something to say about that. She highly doubts she could take them all on.).

Kaia: I’m gonna die here.

(No.).

Kaia: I am.

(Fight. Kaia turns and looks at Whitney. Fight!).

Kaia: I’ll try.

(She gets up and turns around. She stops dead as she sees Vincent standing just a few feet from where she was sitting. She wipes her eyes then leaves the pew and stands there staring at him. She wonders how long he’s been stood there listening to her talking to her dead friend. He takes a step towards her and holds out a bag. She looks down at it and realises that it is Whitney’s tote bag. She looks up at Vincent frowning.).

Kaia: For me?

(He nods and she slowly takes the bag. She looks inside and sees her walkman and the CD’s from the RV. There is also some clothes, they’re Whitney’s.).

Kaia: My music.

(She puts the bag over her shoulder.).

Kaia: Thank you.

(She thinks for a moment then wraps her arms around him. He stands there stiff as a board then he steps backwards. She frowns.).

Kaia: You don’t like hugs?

(He stares at her frowning.).

Kaia: Well...I’m gonna go and lie down. I feel quite tired. Maybe I’ll listen to some music.

(She smiles then leaves the church heading back up to the house.).

(Kaia is lying in bed with her headphones in. It’s late evening and she’s gazing out of the window at the night sky watching the stars twinkling. She doesn’t hear Bo stomping into the room but she is made aware of his presence when he grabs her roughly and hauls her up before smacking her across the face. She lets out a cry as the walkman falls to the floor with a clatter and the CD flies out.).

Bo: The hell is this? Huh?

Kaia: What’s what?

Bo: This! I told you no music!

Kaia: What?

Bo: No music. That’s what I said. You disobedient little bitch!

Kaia: I don’t understand.

Bo: Really? I say no music and you sneak up to the old mill to get it anyway!

Kaia: What? I didn’t go up there. I went to the church that’s it. Vincent gave me Whitney’s bag with my music and some clothes.

Bo: He did what?

Kaia: He gave me this stuff. I just thought you’d told him to give it to me.

Bo: The fuck...

(Bo turns and stomps out of the room. Kaia gets up and follows him to Vincent’s bedroom. He kicks open the door and marches over to Vincent who gets up from his desk.).

Bo: The fuck you giving her shit for?

(Vincent just stands there.).

Bo: Huh? You dumb fuck! I didn’t say she could have anything! The fuck’s wrong with you?

(Bo smacks Vincent over the head and Vincent steps backwards.).

Kaia: Leave him alone.

Bo: Awww. What you two friends now?

Kaia: Just leave it. Why do you have to get so mad all the time? It’s just a walkman.

(Bo glares at Vincent.).

Bo: No more giving her gifts alright? She’s just a whore, she’ll be like the others soon.

(Kaia shudders.).

Bo: I don’t know what’s up with you lately. You trying to lose your virginity or something?

(Bo chuckles and turns for the door. Kaia steps back but Bo grabs her by the hair. She lets out a sob then remembers Whitney’s voice in her head. Fight. She brings her knee up into Bo’s groin. He lets out a grunt of pain and doubles over slightly. He punches her sending her sprawling backwards onto the landing. She pulls herself to her feet as Bo grabs her again. She reaches up and scratches his face making him yell.).

Bo: You little bitch!

(He knees her in the stomach making her double over gasping. He drags her down the hall and into his bedroom. Vincent hears the door slam shut then Kaia screaming. Vincent closes his bedroom door and sits back down at his desk.).

(Kaia is in the bathroom looking in the mirror. Her body is a road map of bruises and she has a black eye. It’s slightly swollen too. She lets out a sob then leaves the bathroom wrapping her dressing gown around herself again. She is just about to go back into Bo’s room when she hears whining coming from down the hall. She walks to Vincent’s bedroom and hears scratching on the door. She opens the door and Vincent’s dog walks out. She turns and follows the dog down the stairs. It sits by the back door and she sighs.).

Kaia: You want to go out huh?

(She opens the door and the dog bounds outside. She follows it and stands there watching as it walks around sniffing the ground. Once the dog has done its business it trots back inside and she follows it closing the door behind her. She follows it back upstairs and into Vincent’s room. The dog lies down on the floor and she kneels down to stroke it. She suddenly hears a creak and looks up to see that Vincent has gotten out of bed. He hasn’t got his mask on and he is glaring at her. She smiles at him.).

Kaia: The dog needed to pee so I let him out. He was scratching at your door.

(She stands up and stares at him. He is wearing a pair of black jogging bottoms, his torso bare.).

Kaia: Well I should probably get back to bed. Don’t want another beating. Night Vincent.

(She turns and leaves the room closing the door behind her. She goes back to Bo’s bedroom and gets back into bed next to him. He fidgets and lets out a grunt but remains asleep. She curls up with her back to him and closes her eyes.).

(Kaia is in the kitchen making coffee. It’s just gone midday and Bo has been absent from the house for the last three days. She wonders where he’s gone not that she’s complaining. It means she gets a reprieve however brief it may be. Lester is out again as always and she has no idea where Vincent is. His workshop perhaps. She thinks he actually sleeps down there sometimes. As she sits down with her coffee she wonders if her plan is working at all. She remembers Vincent putting his hands on Bo’s chest as if to try and stop him from beating her when she lost the baby. He drew her and painted her and he bought her the walkman and her CD’s along with more clothes. Perhaps she’s succeeding more than she thinks. She wonders what to do next, she has to be careful. A plan suddenly forms in her mind, she doesn’t like it and she isn’t sure if it will work but she has to try. Fight. Hm. Fat lot of good fighting did for her last time. Still she has to do something. She’s starting to think that she is going to die here, she’s even been having nightmares about it. With Lester and Bo out it seems this is the perfect time to try out her new idea. She just needs to find Vincent. She decides to drink her coffee and enjoy the rare moment of peace and quiet. Another idea suddenly occurs to her. She could run now. With Bo and Lester gone that only leaves Vincent and he’s probably in his workshop and wouldn’t even know she was gone. But then Bo or Lester might not be too far away, they might see her leave. Maybe they have set this up to see if she tries to run, she wouldn’t put it past them. She sighs debating on whether she should just get up and leave when she hears footsteps. Vincent appears in the doorway. There goes the idea of running. She smiles at him.).

Kaia: Coffee?

(He walks over to the kettle and makes himself a coffee before leaving the room and going upstairs. She finishes her coffee and goes upstairs. She walks into his room. He is sat at his desk leafing through sheets of paper. She sits down in the armchair in the corner. He has taken off his mask which has melted slightly again. He glances at her and she smiles.).

Kaia: Looks like it’s just me and you again.

(He looks back down at his desk and picks up a pencil.).

Kaia: You been working on another sculpture?

(She moves the armchair closer to the desk and he turns and looks at her frowning.).

Kaia: You know...I was wondering if you could draw something for me.

(He continues to stare at her.).

Kaia: Could you draw Whitney? Bo won’t let me have any of my photos and it would be nice to have a picture of her. She was a very good friend. She always knew what to say and she was smart and funny. I think you would have liked her if you’d gotten to know her. She saw the good in everyone. You don’t have to I just...

(She shrugs and looks down. She hears the rustle of paper and the scratch of a pencil. She looks up to see Vincent hunched over the paper drawing. His mouth is open slightly and his tongue suddenly pokes out a bit. She finds herself giggling. He turns and looks at her.).

Kaia: You look so cute when your concentrating.

(His expression doesn’t change. She decides if she’s going to do this she might as well go all the way with it.).

Kaia: You know...I had a dream about you last night.

(He’s turned his attention back to his drawing.).

Kaia: I’ve been thinking about you ever since that day I saw you getting out of the shower.

(His hand stills the pencil hovering over the page.).

Kaia: Um...In the dream last night...I was touching you. Your hair, your chest...I’ve found myself wondering lately what it would feel like to touch you. What your hair would feel like...Your skin...What you would feel like. You were touching me too. I know it’s kinda wrong...I sleep next to your brother but...I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to lay next to him. He’s mean and...He treats me like shit. He forces himself on me I don’t want it. It’s not like I’m in a relationship with him. It’s not wrong is it? Tell me it’s not wrong.

(He turns his head slowly and stares at her. She thinks he kinda looks suspicious. His eye is narrowed and his head is slightly tilted to one side. He might appear at times like he’s an idiot and perhaps a bit simple but he obviously isn’t. Perhaps he is suspicious of her intentions here. She decides to just go for it and see what happens. She leans forward and goes to kiss him. Her lips barely touch his when he jumps out of his chair and steps backwards. Now he is glaring at her. He looks frightening.).

Kaia: I...I’m sorry. I just thought...

(She gets up. He tilts his head to one side again.).

Kaia: You drew a picture of me and did a painting. You made me look beautiful. You gave me my music and some clothes. You’ve always been nice to me. You fixed me up after I lost the baby and I tried to kill myself. You took care of me. Your always watching me and Bo whenever we...I just thought maybe...You fancied me.

(She looks down.).

Kaia: Course you don’t. Sorry. Stupid.

(She feigns embarrassment.).

Kaia: I’ll just um...Go.

(She leaves the room hurriedly. She walks down the hall to Bo’s room and goes inside closing the door behind her. She sighs as she sinks to the floor. So much for that plan.).

#House of Wax #My Writing #Writing #Fanfic #Fanfiction #OC #original characters #Kaia #Whitney #Bo Sinclair #Vincent Sinclair #Lester Sinclair #Ambrose #Part Twenty

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fairestwriting · 3 years

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slams open your door/ one angst request for a childhood g/n reader with deuce, ace, jack, ruggie and vil coming right up! "if we're still single by 30, let's get married! (for housing benefits lol)" it was a childish promise made in jest, but the boy never forgot. in the end, it ends with unrequited/pining feelings from one/both sides that cant be returned due to bad timing/prior engagements/etc when they reach of age (go hogwild with the scenarios lis!!)

(slams my hands on the table) yes yes yes yes YES i love this trope

+ if you like my writing, you can buy me a ko-fi to support me!

Deuce Spade

You make the promise to him after you confessed to your crush sometime in 7th grade and got rejected, left to cry by yourself behind the school. Out of all your friends, only Deuce came to comfort you -- And so you, in your dramatic childish glory, feeling like you’d never find anyone to love, tell him the two of you should get married if you’re single by 30.

Deuce remembers every detail of that event down to how your eyes gleamed with the tears, how the light of the sunset casted that golden glow on your hair -- It was when he knew he loved you. It took him a while to find the right words to describe the feeling, but he’d been feeling it for a long time.

He doesn’t pursue you because he feels like he’ll grow out of it. You go to NRC together, the two of you against the world, and it’s like everyday he falls in love a little more. You support him through his attempts of being a honors student, and on the day of your graduation, the first thing you do is hug each other tight, cheering about how you made it, you finally made it.

You don’t lose contact with each other even after school. Deuce and you are basically attached to the hip, meeting up every other week to talk about college and then your jobs. Through all of this time you’re friends, both of you go through a handful of relationships each, but none of them are really serious. As you approach 30, Deuce remembers that promise from back then.

When your birthday comes up, you’re sort of gloomy over recent breakup, and Deuce, naturally, is the first one to be there for you. He shows up in the morning with a gift and makes you breakfast, your dear best friend warming your heart once more. You rant about your latest partner and exchange anecdotes about how last week went before everything goes silent, and suddenly his hand is hesitantly on yours.

“D-Do you remember, um.” He begins, face flushed. “That promise we made in middle school? That if we were single until 30...”

You blink. Really, that? It felt like so long ago -- It was hard to remember even. You can barely catch what he was going to try to say before you laugh your middle school self off, snickering at how naive you were -- Something in Deuce seems to shatter, then, and his hand retracts. It’s so fast you can barely tell what’s happening.

And he stays with you through the birthday regardless, of course he does. He’s your dearest friend, isn’t he?

the rest is under the cut cause... its long

Ace Trappola

You hated Ace, initially. You met in kindergarten and he was the worst, literally. Always pulling pranks on everyone and acting just so infuriatingly cheeky, your 5 year old self learned real rage through that little redhead boy who always hid your things just to get a rise out of you.

One day you decided to prank him back, causing massive trouble in the classroom that ends with the two of you getting intensely scolded, and that’s how, somehow, a beautiful friendship blooms. Ace gets this sparkle in his eyes when you’re done getting yelled at, and says that the two of you should be friends and work together on doing this to other people.

Since then you two became inseparable. You’d never stop bickering, but you also never left each other’s side. The two of you were a menace, an absolute terror to your teachers -- Whether you were a good kid before meeting him or not didn’t matter, Ace is great at being a bad influence.

Near the end of 4th grade, you begin hearing about how one of your classmate’s single parent was getting married again. This sparked a big conversation between your class, somehow, with everyone declaring who they wanted to marry. It was a silly childish thing. When your turn comes, you proudly announce that when you grew up, you’d marry Ace if you hadn’t married anyone else by 30, ‘cause no one else would choose him but me! You snicker after making the comment, amused at how mean you were being, but somehow your snarkiness seems to fly over Ace’s head.

It’s a thing that happens that you two never really talk about again, but it ticks in the back of his mind for his whole life as you two grow up. Even entering middle and then high school, he always remembers it when he goes through some sort of romantic disappointment. You really were the only one who always stuck around, after all...

Years go by and somehow you’re still by each other’s side. Every birthday that passes Ace thinks about it a little more, he wonders if that promise from ages ago was true. When your 30th birthday comes up the promise is constantly in his mind, he’s driving himself up the wall with expectation. And he doesn’t even know why he’s feeling like that, really, you two are just childhood friends, right? There’s no reason for him to be feeling so... like this.

Eventually, he just blurts it out, a couple days after said birthday. You two are probably just hanging out and ranting about work when he goes “Hey, you remember that stuff you said in 4th grade? About, uh, us getting married?” And you go silent for a beat. His heart races as he wonders what the hell he’s doing, even.

But you laugh it all off. What, that stuff about marrying you? Yeah, I was such a dumb kid. I was right, though, look how you’re still single, you joke, and it feels like a punch to the gut to Ace. He laughs awkwardly with you. Yeah, sure, how foolish the two of your were for thinking of something like... you two... being together like that...

Jack Howl

Jack was, before everything, the scary boy in your 2nd grade class. Beastmen weren’t exactly common at school, especially wolves like him, so he ended up sticking out quite a lot. Most kids, your friends included, thought he was far too scary to approach. And Jack himself seemed to be fine with that, not really interacting much with anyone.

That was all he was for you until, one day, an older kid gets mad at you during lunch for bumping into them and staining their shirt with juice. They’re about two or three years ahead and so much taller than you, you’re genuinely scared -- And who would know that in a moment like this, the one kid in your class you weren’t very fond of would stand up for you, convincing the bully to go away.

Afterwards, Jack asks if you’re okay, you two end up eating together, and the rest is history. You find out he was actually really sweet, despite seeming so tough, and you get comfortable with it. Jack was always a reliable, loyal friend, someone you knew you could count on.

This included when your friends started being weirded out by you for getting close to the scary boy in class. They get it in their heads that you have a crush on him and tease you for it, which makes you upset, but Jack stands up for you again. This was enough for you to be pretty starry eyed at the age of 7, so you declared that, hey, who cares about what these mean kids are saying! Maybe you and Jack should be together anyway. Actually, if you two got to 30 and you were still single, you should get married! Jack gets just as starry eyed as you, and you seal a pinky promise that day.

What you never knew, though, was that he wouldn’t grow out of it -- Because as time goes by and you two grow up alongside each other, it ends up slipping your mind. You meet new people and learn new things, getting into some relationships here and there, and though you’d taken the promise seriously for a bit when you were a kid, it was just something you laughed about now.

You don’t even remember it on Jack’s 30th birthday. You’re one of the first people to show up to the small gathering, naturally, you had known each other since forever. You’re teasing him about how he was so perpetually single even now, that you were reaching “marriage age”, and this seems to fluster him a bit.

“Well...” He starts, his ears going slightly limp. “I wanted... to keep that promise, you know. From when we were kids.” His voice is quiet, uncertain. It’s different from how you usually hear him talk, and you have no idea what he’s talking about. You question him about it, and he’s wide eyed when he realizes that you actually forgot.

He questions you about it. How could you forget? You two actually made a pinky promise about it -- But you’re just confused as to why he’s bringing this up, saying that of course it wasn’t a big deal, you two were just kids when it happened! Was he really expecting something from that? And when you ask him that, he’s silent.

Needless to say, the birthday is soured. Jack asks for you to leave, it’s a mess. You don’t know what you did wrong, exactly, just like you’re not sure how you could possibly fix this.

Ruggie Bucchi

“Partners in crime” was the only possible way to describe what sort of relationship you had with Ruggie. It starts in elementary school, you’re walking around in a farmer’s market near the slums and you catch him taking a handful of apples from a stand, without paying. Your eyes are wide as you remember who that boy was, a classmate of yours, and despite what your family had taught you about stealing, you walk up to the person taking care of the stand, and start chatting with them to distract them.

You’re not sure what really made you want to help this boy you barely knew, but it turned out to be the one thing in your life you’re the most grateful for, because the next day, when he sees you again in class, he runs up to you to thank you so many times in a row. And since then, you two started spending time together.

And you got along so well! Ruggie got along with most of the other kids and you had some friends of your own, but nothing was compared to how close the two of you were. You two scheme your way in and out of trouble through your school days, and at one point you can barely imagine your life without him.

Sometime mid 6th grade, your classmates start talking of crushes and dating and such, which gives you a lot to think about. You’re a bit upset that you seem to be the only one who isn’t in on the new fun, so one day, when you’re hanging out with Ruggie, you complain about feeling like you’d be single forever. Ruggie laughs and says that if no one wanted to be with you, then no one would want to be with him either. You still wonder what that meant.

In a fit of childishness, you say decisively that if you two were single until you were 30, you’d get married. Looking back on it, you can’t tell if you were kidding or not, but Ruggie and you shake hands mid-laughs, like you’re sealing a deal.

So time goes by. You don’t think too hard about that promise and Ruggie... doesn’t seem to, either, you actually wonder what’s going through his head often, because he rarely tells you what he’s thinking. You end up going to NRC together, to both of your families’ joy, and that just ends up making you closer, as two kids from the less-privileged side of the Afterglow Savannah in such a prestigious academy...

Your bond ends up really fire-forged after those four years, so it’s no surprise to anyone that you’d still be close even after you graduate, even as adults. Nothing could break a friendship like this.

You think about it on the day of your 30th birthday, when you’re out for drinks with Ruggie to celebrate. Really, how the hell did you stick to each other’s side for so long? You ask him as you loop an arm around his neck, and he grins. “Well, maybe we should get married like you promised then, y’know... when we were brats.” He says, a little quieter than your previous conversation. There’s a hint of some kind of different feeling there that you don’t catch at the time, scoffing at him and going, yeah, in your dreams.

The rest of the night goes normally, though you don’t hear from him for a couple days afterward... and when you do, he barely looks you in the eye. You wonder if anything bad happened, if you did anything wrong.

Vil Schoenheit

When Vil Schoenheit moved into your town, everybody was talking about him before he even really set foot into the classroom. Everyone had seen him somewhere -- The poster boy of villainy in all your favorite movies, a kid with a pretty face and a haughty aura.

You’re as curious as everyone else to meet him, though you don’t really share that strange vindictiveness the other kids seemed to have, angered at Vil himself for what his characters put others through. It’s so stupid, you thought, isn’t he just the actor? He might actually be nice.

When he arrives into the classroom, people are about as annoying towards him as you expected. Their disdain towards Vil bothered you, he’d barely said anything to others and yet they were already pegging him as a mean, arrogant person. So stupid, you repeat to yourself, and you decide to talk to him normally, and that’s how your ages-long friendship came to life.

Vil wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met. You come to find that he’s rather haughty, yes, and very strict with pretty much everything, but he was also very kind deep down, and willing to help you with anything you needed. He was a good friend. He was also, as you came to find out as you grew a little more, astoundingly pretty. With people disliking his “villainy” or not, by the time you’re starting middle school, he already consistently gets confessed to.

You’re a bit jealous. Not because you wanted Vil for yourself, no, he was just a good friend, but you wished people would find you as attractive as they found him, sometimes. You express that to him when you’re walking home together one day, and he laughs it off, saying it wasn’t as good as you thought it’d be. Still, you make him promise that if you were single by 30, he’d have to marry you, because if he just let you die alone, he’d be a bad friend. Vil seems strangely mesmerized by that, but he agrees.

Time goes by, you get to watch each other grow. Even with all the people going in and out of Vil’s life, he seems to keep you closer to his heart than everyone, and you never really lose contact with each other. Even when he’s busy, with movies or modeling or school, he still makes time to check up on you, and you see each other often.

When you’re actually nearing 30, Vil has reached a sort of stardom that burned your eyes just looking at, and you were so goddamn proud of him it was real. Somehow, he still makes time to show up for your birthday, after about a month of not really seeing each other -- And he spoils you to death on that day, the two of you spending all of it together and talking until it was late at night.

As the sun is about to rise, though, Vil’s chattiness subsides. About as sleep deprived as you, he says, softly “So since we’ve gotten there, and we’re both still single... maybe we should fulfill that promise from years ago, shouldn’t we?” You take a moment to process it, it’s tough remembering exactly when you made such a promise, but eventually you do. You feel like that should’ve been a joke, but the way Vil looks at you isn’t saying joke at all.

You sort of laugh it off either way, though. What, that silly promise? You ask, are you rubbing it in that you’re prettier than me? I can still find a partner looking like this, y’know. You think it’s funny, but Vil suddenly falls completely silent.

He then sighs, almost wistful, and says “Sure you can” before the conversation progresses... you’re not sure what happened, but life goes on after that like nothing happened. Deep down, Vil is feeling stupid for having taken the promise to heart, like he should have known better... but if you never really meant it, then what could he do but give it up? Even though it was the thing he wanted to do the least... he valued your friendship too much to do something that could possibly ruin it.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #vil schoenheit #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #lis writing

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admiringlove · 3 years

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[ii] scents, coffee and turtlenecks

+synopsis: hq boys and their scent, their coffee order and the turtlenecks they wear.

+genre: fluff lol; headcanons.

+characters: kageyama tobio, oikawa tōru, suna rintarō, miya osamu.

+warnings: literally just fluff man, unless you cry because of cute stuff.

+order: hi!! i saw that suggestions are open and i was wondering if you could do more of the scent coffee turtlenecks? they were really fun and comforting to read. they got me through a tough situation, so thank you! i hope you keep writing and keep growing <33 [by anonymous]

+author’s notes: hi anon! funnily enough, i had written some part of this and it was sitting in my drafts halfway done, but your ask helped me get through the rest of it. hope you like it, love. here’s part one!

— KAGEYAMA TOBIO.

his scent is calming. it’s strawberries and mint, and it refreshes you. it’s funny really, the way his favorite flavor of milk is strawberry and how he actually smells like the fruit. whenever you embrace him warmly, a cooling feeling washes over you—it feels like a day off. when you’re overworked and you need time to spend with self-care? yeah, tobio reminds you of that. he’s constantly telling you to take care of yourself more too(which is the irony in this situation). you feel a small pinch in your heart whenever he lets go of you(if he goes out of town for matches or gets up from cuddling). if he’s leaving the city for work, you’d shed a tear, telling him you’d miss him. and when you’d come back home, you’d wear any of his clothing. because kageyama reminds you of a calm afternoon, filled with the scent of strawberries and the alleviating agent like mint.

he does not order coffee. definitely the type of person to go to the vending machine to buy flavored milk instead of getting coffee. he thinks coffee shops are a waste of time. why would someone pay ten extra bucks for average coffee when you can just get sweet milk from the vending machine? you definitely bully him for this(just point and laugh, [y/n]. point and laugh). he’d get all flustered and yell at you, but then he’d end up hiding his face on a pillow or something. you’d go up to him and hug him, which would lead up to kageyama asking you, “so... the next time you get coffee, i’ll just wait outside, okay?”. you laugh at him again, telling him that he didn’t have to wait outside, but then he retorts with how the barista looks at him weirdly after he asked her if they sold flavored milk.

kageyama likes wearing a fixed set of colors. he’s not the type of person to go out of the ordinary and wear some absurd color like neon-green, but something like different shades of blue. he definitely doesn’t have two same colored shirts—even if they are, they’re in different shades. he mostly wears blue and black turtlenecks, but he doesn’t mind trying whites or greys either. he does blush every time you compliment him though, so maybe dial it down a little or he’ll combust(you don’t have to, you can just watch his brain go haywire then kiss his forehead to make him go redder than before).

— OIKAWA TŌRU

his scent is so sweet, it’s addicting. it’s either something floral like rose or lavender. or sometimes he’d go with the plain old smoked vanilla. his hugs are the best, really. they’re filled with the sweet aroma circling around the two of you as you inhale his scent. he’d stroke your hair as you hum against him in contentment, saying, “like the cologne, [y/n]-chan?”. you’d tease him, telling him he smelled like an eleven-year-old girl and he’d reply with, “hey! at least eleven-year-old girls know what they’re doing!”.

he does not like coffee. will straight up go to the barista and order the sweetest drink on the menu. this boy just does not do well with the bitterness of coffee. he doesn’t like it, and he’s in shock by how you can drink it so easily. “[y/n]-chan, how are you doing that?!”, he’d exclaim. you’d raise an eyebrow, asking him, “doing what, bub?”. although he really wants to melt at the nickname, he’d say, “that bitter monstrosity!”. this conversation leads nowhere except laughter and jokes, really. some teasing comments are thrown here and there; some criticizing oikawa for having such low tolerance for bitterness, and some at you for what an utter abomination you are for drinking coffee. tie the bow on the gift-box with a small teasing kiss and dancing in the kitchen without music at seven in the morning, because oikawa felt like it. your relationship is like the marriage of bitterness and sweetness—somewhere close to perfect.

he can wear anything and still look good. has a wide variety of turtlenecks—and he’ll definitely wear them according to his mood for the day. although most of the colors are on the lighter side, he has a few blacks in the mix as well. he likes the pastel-blue one the most(because, according to him, “blue is just my color, [y/n]-chan!”). he has the tendency to match with you. loves buying you the same shirts as him, because he thinks it’s adorable when you walk around with him and match his clothing. basks in the glory of when people look and compliment the two of you, and you blush(he thinks you’re cute, okay?).

— SUNA RINTARŌ

suna definitely smells like cigarettes and lime basil. he doesn’t smoke often, it’s just the scented candles he buys online(he thinks it’s funny because the candles are cigarette-scented). you often tell him he stinks, but he knows you’re only poking around. he knows you love the scent he gives off when you hold on to him just a little tighter, just a little longer, just a little closer. the kisses linger for a smidge longer, and he knows. he knows you love his scent and he knows you love him. he’s not cocky about it until you tease him though, because if you do say he stinks, he’ll pull you into a passionate kiss(and obviously, you don’t pull away). after he breaks the kiss, he’d say, “if i really do stink, you wouldn’t be sticking to me like glue.”

his coffee is either completely black, or just a normal latte. he doesn’t like really milky, or sweet coffee. also most definitely just uses coffee as a way to stay up(suna likes nights more than days). he likes staying up late with you, doing homework or anything really, until you’re dozing off next to him and he’s left in comfortable silence. he’ll run his hands through your hair, his slow breathing silent and his sharp eyes softened just by looking at you. he likes coffee. he really does. he likes coffee because it helps him stay awake and watch you peacefully. he falls asleep by four in the morning, and now it’s your turn to watch suna sleep. you make him a mug of coffee and breakfast. it’s a leisure-filled morning, and rin loves every part of it. he won’t tell you he does though, because you already know. and he knows you do.

suna rintarō in turtlenecks is a sight for sore eyes. he has a lot of greens, blacks, and greys. his style is to effortlessly look good, so he doesn’t actually care about what he wears unless it’s to impress someone(*cough* you) or for work. if he doesn’t have the energy to do something that’s eye-catching, he’ll just wear a turtleneck and pair it with plaid pants to call it a day. man still gets stares from people because of how effortlessly cool he is. he’s not even trying, which is the best part. he looks so good(cue you drooling in the background because suna in a black turtleneck and green plaid pants is just wow). and if he’s actually putting in effort for a date or something, he goes all the way with the accessories. rings, necklaces, maybe even wears his reading glasses because they look good with his overcoat. olive green turtleneck and white dickies would definitely suit him. after all, he wants to look the best for you.

— MIYA OSAMU.

he has one of the most comforting, woody scents ever. he has two bottles—one vetiver(it gives a smoky scent and he usually wears it to work) and one patchouli(more woodland-ish kind of scent. he wears it when he’s going out with you or on special occasions). you love the way he smells, because honestly, the most comforting time of the day is when he comes back home, and the first thing you do is hug him. you’ll take the dinner he made for the two of you at the restaurant and set it up as he changes and freshens up. his aroma overcomes you as the two of you sit down an talk about your day through the meal. his tired grin and you small giggles enough to make you feel content. and man, he’s the best to cuddle with as you sleep. he smells so good, it’s kind of scary. in the mornings, it’s almost hard to let go of him so you can get to work.

okay, we all know osamu is a sucker for food. but he’s also a pain in the ass when the two of you go to coffee shops. orders something fancy like café au lait, then continues to complain about how this particular coffee shop didn’t do the french drink justice. all the while, you’re just listening to him criticize the place(but you still love him, because he looks cute talking about the things he loves). you’ll leave the shop after an hour or so, and then just settle for a bowl of ramen from a small diner by your apartment because that seems to be the only thing that gets osamu off his high horse. by the end of the night, you’d tell him to quit acting like gordon ramsey. he’d retort by telling you that you would obviously prefer his food over gordon ramsey’s anyday(i mean, you can’t disagree with that. even if you tell him he’s being dumb, you know he’s right on the inside. osamu basically is a wizard with food).

osamu likes grey and black, and that’s about it. he’d try more stuff if you make him though. gets annoyed at the mall because you’re just picking out different colors for him to try and he’s just standing off to the side holding like ten different articles of clothing. he looks amazing in a chartreuse-green if you get him to wear it(will like how it look on his abs, he doesn’t tell you though). every canonical color suits him to be honest, just don’t go overboard with the neons or purples. he likes to keep it simple with the dark colors(black turtleneck osamu is a looker). and he definitely becomes all blushie-blushie if you tell him he looks pretty. looks away and puts his hand over his mouth a little(you should definitely take a picture of this, it looks so wrong and suggestive but it’s just him being a blushing mess). please, just hug him or something.

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kirksfattitties · 3 years

Text

asks you can smell the privilege and internalized ableism radiate from

(tw for ableism and other bigoted implications)

i’m bad at reading tone but even i understand that this is 100% you being condescending and trying to cover it up with smiley faces and false sincerity. and i don’t appreciate that.

before i get into deconstructing your shitty ableist argument, i want to explain the reasons i believe in self diagnosis (self-dx):

even professional diagnosis doesn’t start with a doctor diagnosing you. there has to be a reason for seeing the doctor. some people see a doctor in their adult life because they’re struggling, some people are taken by their parents, some people are referred or suggested that they see a specialist. whatever it is, you don’t just see a doctor and they magically give you a neurodivergency. people have neurodivergencies before they see doctors and even if they NEVER see a doctor.

the psychiatry system is flawed in MANY ways and to say that it isn’t means you’re denying the experiences of people with less privledge than yourself. also like psychiatry isn’t gonna suck your dick. you don’t have to be a bootlicker lol

in many places (hi hello i’m from america where our government tries to indirectly kill us by not providing us with adequate healthcare! i and many other people have many issues we can’t get fixed because simply our government cares more about the economy than us), seeing a psychiatrist or a therapist or going to a mental hospital or WHATEVER is INCREDIBLY expensive. and to assume that everyone has access and enough time/money/energy/transportation/whatever to do all of that is classist and elitist.

ANYTHING medical (including mental health) is biased towards white cis men. most studies are done on white cis men/boys. because of this, people who aren’t white cis men (or people who aren’t perceived as white cis men) are often not diagnosed. the system is racist. the system is sexist. the system is transphobic. people don’t know how to diagnose autism or adhd or personality disorders or other neurodivergencies or even mental illnesses in black people and other people of color, in women, in trans people, etc. and GOD FORBID someone be in multiple (or all) of those categories. saying “just go get diagnosed :)” is a privileged statement to make.

shocker! the psychiatry system is also ableist. if you’re already diasabled (whether it be mental or physical) and you see a doctor about ANOTHER disability? the doctor is most likely going to shoot you down. or at least be weary about someone having mutliple disabilities.

also most people who diagnose are neurotypical. they have never and will probably never experience neurodivergency so they can never fully understand it. they operate off of stereotypes of neurodivergent people and usually only stereotypical behavior of neurodivergent white cis men (which, as i mentioned before, is problematic for anyone who isn’t a white cis man). neurotypical diagnosers don’t know the neurodivergent culture and aren’t trained to recognize very common things (like masking for example).

a professional diagnosis can also be weaponized. not everyone can get a professional diagnosis because there are some neurodivergencies (such as autism and personality disorders) and mental illnesses (like depression) that can have legal and medical respercussions to have in your record. trans people can be denied medical and legal transition for being professionally diagnosed. people can lose custody battles for being professionally diagnosed. a professional diagnosis can be used as justification for taking away someone’s body autonomy (especially if that person is also physically disabled).

a LOT of neurodivergencies also have some type of symptom (or symptoms) that make it difficult to interact with people. troubles recognizing facial expressions, troubles understanding certain phrases and types of speech, paranoid about people, audio processing issues, being nonverbal in an environment that doesn’t accommodate for it, overstimulation, extreme social anxiety, discomfort in new situations, problems with eye contact, and a lot more. because like. for many nd people, interacting with people is very difficult and stressful. and hey. if you want to get a professional diagnosis? take a WILD guess what you have to do? FUCKING INTERACT with people! LIKE?? JEHDJJDKEKKDKDKDS. do you know how many professionally diagnosed nd people i know who made their appointment COMPLETELY on their own without help from a parent or family member or friend? LITERALLY ZERO! and i know A FEW nd people who have professional diagnoses! so if someone has social issues that prevent them from doing tasks like calling and making an appointment, showing up for an appointment, talking during the appointment, etc and ALSO doesn’t have familial or friend support (because newsflash! people who are friends/family of disabled people can still be ableist)? almost impossible to get a diagnosis! plus, the diagnosis process is TIME CONSUMING. not everyone can focus on a task for that long and not everyone can miss work/school for that long.

so those are the reasons i support self-dx. (although there’s probably more that i’m forgetting but i have adhd and it’s hard for me to remember things!)

so hopefully you now understand my reasons for believing in self-dx, and perhaps even you’re pro-self-dx now because before you were just uneducated on these issues and how they impact people who aren’t you.

but in case you’re still anti-self-dx and probably hate already-marginalized neurodivergent people, let’s talk about this horrendous ask (series of asks, actually) that i got sent. i feel like i can feel the self hatred and internalized ableism OOZING from this ask and into my inbox, so thanks for that i guess /s

“Sometimes people who self diagnose can take away from those who are actually nd, even sometimes from themselves.”

starting out strong with the ableism on this one by separating people into “self diagnosed” and “actually nd” people. self diagnosed people ARE actually nd

there’s not a limited number of nd resources. this isn’t a math equation of only x amount of people can be nd because there’s only y amount of resources. more people realizing they’re nd will actually MAKE more resources for nd people and will bring more awareness to being nd

even IF someone self diagnosed, and they go back on it later, what harm was done? they learned some coping mechanisms? they made some nd friends? neither of those are problematic and i think they’re both actually very helpful. i think nt people SHOULD learn more about nd people and stuff because i think that will lead to WAYYY less misunderstandings and WAYYYY less ableism

“There are many people who fake nds for attention,”

hey anon, what fucking world do you live in that nd’s are cool enough to fake having? because i would LOVE to live there. like, i literally had a post about my personality disorder (which i will not be specifying) i had to delete because people were sending my anons about how i was “scary” and “threatening” now that they knew i had the personality disorder i have. last year i left a discord server because the ableism i was recieving from not only the members of the server, but the mods as well. there are very few people i know irl who i tell about my personality disorder, but when i tell people about my adhd, they start treating me different. they infantalize me and make fun of me and use “jokes” about stereotypical adhd behaviors to alienate me and they even TELL OTHER PEOPLE without my permission. i was SEVERELY bullied throughout elementary and middle school for being nd. i have been refused job and educational opportunities as well as literal medical attention for being nd. people aren’t “faking” being nd, and if they were they probably wouldn’t be doing it for long because it’s not something that’s EASY to deal with.

kinda ironic that you’re saying people can’t diagnose themselves but that YOU can tell when someone is faking their diagnosis. that’s both hypocritical and a double standard.

masking exists. if you think someone isn’t “acting nd enough” they’re probably masking because they’ve been fucking bullied and harrassed. also you’re probably basing whatever you think nd is on stereotypes. not every nd person is sheldon cooper lol.

this is a side note but can we talk about how you’re literally just taking transmed rhetoric and molding it to fit nd people? like. you really come onto MY NONBINARY NEURODIVERGENT blog and expect me to validate your recycled “but what about the REAL [insert group] people?” ??? like grow up, elitist. you’re not better than anyone else just because you lick some boots 🥾 👅

“and claiming that self diagnosis (and this is just what I interpreted) is just as valid as professional diagnosis”

it is 😌

the only difference between self diagnosis and professional diagnosis is that a professional diagnosis can also get you medicine. not every neurodivergency needs meds and not every neurodivergency can be treated (at this time or even ever). for example, my pd (self diagnosed) doesn’t have a specific treatment but multiple symptoms of the pd (all professionally diagnosed) have specific treatments and medicines that work, so patients are given/diagnosed with/prescribed those instead. also, medicine doesn’t work for everyone! and sometimes people are allergic to or take medicines that will conflict with any new medicine.

“can really devalue the account of someone who actually has a disorder”

here we go again with that “self diagnosed” vs “actually nd” bullshit. literally just say you hate poor people n minorities and leave lol

someone having a different experience than you isn’t devaluing you, but if you’re the one who always has the spotlight maybe you should use your privledge uplift other marginalized people instead of feeling angry when everything isn’t all about you 100% of the time

“I have a second ask”

i don’t want it

“Plus it can be damaging for a person if they self diagnose wrong.”

how? what if they learn information that they wouldn’t’ve otherwise known like coping mechanisms that help them with their own neurodivergencies? that’s definitely not a bad thing

i think it’s funny that you bring up that people can self diagnose wrong and don’t even MENTION that doctors can diagnose wrong. like. you know. the people who GIVE OUT MEDICINE to people. i think it’s MUCH more dangerous when a PROFESSIONAL diagnosis is wrong. what are self-dx people with wrong diagnoses gonna do? read up on nd tips? maybe smoke some weed? drink some coffee? that’s about all they can do with a self-dx. but if a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL gives you an INCORRECT diagnosis, they can ACTUALLY fuck you up.

“I was recently diagnosed with PTSD, a disorder which I would have never considered I’d have.”

that’s great about your professional diagnosis! i don’t know you but i’m glad you’re finding out about yourself and getting the help you want and/or need /srs

sorry if this sounds blunt, but honestly i’m not surprised you never considered you could have PTSD. based on your asks, you sound like you have a lot of internalized ableism you need to work through and a lot more research about neurodiversity you need to do. being anti-self diagnosis is a common belief among a lot of people with internalized ableism and a lot of these same people are the ones who have no issue with and even SUPPORT auti$m $peaks. many nd organizations that are run BY nd people (like asan) actually support self-dx.

“If I had of diagnosed my own symptoms and then started treating myself or taking precautions based on my self diagnosed "condition", it could of really hurt me.”

how? taking precautions to preserve your mental health is NEVER a bad idea. i’m not ptsd, but someone i care deeply about DOES have ptsd and has shared a lot of the precautions and coping mechanisms for ptsd with me and honestly they’ve been incredibly helpful. it’s almost as if different neurodivergencies and/or mental illnesses have overlap and that’s why there’s a whole community for us to be able to share these resources and information with each other!

the same person was rejected a formal autism diagnosis because of their ptsd, plus the fact that they’re transgender and the fact they have symptoms of adhd. it’s not really my place to talk about their experience with professional diagnosis, but i’ll send this post to them and allow them to add on their experience in a rb if they’re comfortable with that. but it’s almost as if their experience with the professional diagnosis process was unhelpful, harmful, ableist, and transphobic 🧐 and unfortunately this is a pretty common experience

“Also, by self diagnosing, I devalue the account of a person with the disorder l assumed I had.”

how? if someone thinks they’re nd, they have a legitimate reason for thinking so. either they have another neurodivergency than the one they thought they had, or they’re neurotypical and need to figure themself out and have a need for support. either way, they learned more about the specific neurodivergency, more about the nd community, and more about themself. i don’t see how that’s a bad thing.

if you think self-diagnosed people’s experiences inherently have less value, that is straight up ableism. especially considering that other marginalized identities and minorities have trouble getting professional diagnoses, you might also be bigoted in some other way. or at the very least, refusing to acknowledge your privilege.

“only one more I promise”

i don’t want it

“I understand that doctors are expensive and professionals can get it wrong,”

okay. if you understand this, then dm me your information so i can bill you for the cost of my professional diagnoses, the cost for my therapy sessions, the cost for my medicine, and the cost for transportation to and from all these places. PLUS the cost of the work and school i’ll be missing for these sessions. 🤲

“but self diagnosis can be really harmful to yourself or others.”

nah, you’re just ableist and a gatekeeper lol

“If you feel like you have a disorder, go see a psychiatrist, you may have it.”

[remembers when i went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with two major symptoms of a personality disorder and said i had other symptoms of the pd as well but refused to diagnose me with the actual personality disorder because i was a minor at the time and he told me “kids don’t have personalities so they can’t have personality disorders”. i understand being weary about diagnosing children with personality disorders because they aren’t fully developed but this dude straight up told me that i didn’t have a personality. this man literally only worked with children so that means he literally never diagnosed personality disorders. this man was literally just lazy and didn’t care about his patients. this man also refused to believe me when i told him the medicine he prescribed me made my symptoms worse and even made me hallucinate. he ignored me and refused to change my medicine so eventually i just changed psychiatrists and they put me on a new medicine that DIDNT make my symptoms worse and DIDNT make me hallucinate. also i looked it up after our session and apparently ONLY people with my pd and related ones experience hallucinations on that certain medication. it’s almost like his refusal to diagnose me and ignoring my symptoms/concerns harmed me. this man also constantly misgendered me and told me that homosexuality and transgenderism should’ve still been in the dsm. like golly, it’s almost as if being queer and neurodivergent in an extremely conservative state is harmful and dangerous. and that psychiatrists aren’t immune from being homophobic and transphobic and ableist.] but yes :) perhaps i should see another psychiatrist in this conservative state :)

“I don't want to undermine anyone's actual experiences, but it can be dangerous.”

then stop undermining people’s actual experiences :)

no ❤️

“If you feel like something's wrong, go see a professional.”

the whole point of the neurodiversity movement is that there IS no such thing as a “normal” brain, so saying that neurodivergent people have something “wrong” with them is ableist.

💰 🤲 hand it over

“I don't want to offend, I just don't want anyone to get mislead or hurt. :)”

you absolutely meant to offend. you literally said that self-diagnosed people’s experiences aren’t valid and have less value than people who have professional diagnoses

i know more people who have been (and personally have been) mislead and hurt by professionals than by simply existing as a self-diagnosed person

also i want to say that being pro-self dx is NOT being anti-professional/formal diagnosis. i think that people should absolutely get a professional diagnosis (if they are able to without negative repercussions)! being pro-self dx is more inclusive of marginalized people (like people of color, women, lgbtq+ people, people with multiple disabilities, etc). pro-self dx is simply just saying that professional diagnosis isn’t the only option

(neurotypical people and anti-self dx people don’t add anything; pro-self dx neurodivergent people are allowed to add with their experiences if they want)

#asks #long post #nd adventures #ableism tw #sexism tw #racism tw #transphobia tw #misgendering mention #medical abuse mention #not star trek #homophobia tw

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bitchloveskcbaseball · 3 years

Text

Tripping Over Myself

Pairing: Logan x OC (Charlotte Wheeler)

Summary: Charlotte’s not the best at communicating and it gets her in a bit of trouble. (takes place shortly after Drawn to a Flame)

Warnings: Language. Lots and lots of language. Seriously...so many f-words. lol Also, mentions of her previous car accident (it’s not super detailed, but it is brought up a few times) and her resulting injuries.

Word Count: 5525. I swear ... I was certain this was going to be nothing more than maybe 2k words. And then this happened and the thing that I wanted to happen in this fic didn’t even happen so that’s fun lol

Logan belongs to Pixelberry, but the other two lovelies are all mine.

A/N #1: This was written for @rodappreciationweek MC day. And sticking with the theme from the first two pieces in this series, I have pulled the title from the lyrics of Shawn Mendes’s Stitches.

Also... a huge huge thank you to @burnsoslow for reading a piece of this that had me chasing my tail for what seemed like forever and fixing it for me. You are the best!!

“Hey hey hey! The hell you think you’re doin?”

Freezing mid step to turn back around to where Paul was glaring at her from his now-seated position where he'd rolled out from under her car on his creeper, Charlotte scrunched her nose up in confusion. “You were bitchin’ that you didn’t have your 3/8 down there. Figured I’d grab it so you’d stop muttering to yourself.”

“I had one rule for letting you stay after you showed up here today. And I made it explicitly clear.”

“But – “

“No. No buts.”

“C’mon Paul! You can’t seriously expect me to sit on that damn stool the entire time we’re here. I am fully capable of walking to the toolbox and grabbing a goddamn socket!”

“Lottie, sweetheart. You are still healing. You need to take it easy.” Instead of the calming effect she was sure he was shooting for, the soft gentleness of Paul’s voice just reminded her of an adult trying to calm a child who was in the middle of throwing a massive tantrum. And that ratcheted her mild frustration up until she was actually throwing a damn fit.

“For fuck’s sake! I know I’m fucking hurt. But I’m not a complete invalid. I don’t think me taking three fucking steps across this damn storage unit and picking up a tool that weighs a few ounces is going to do me in when a fucking slab of concrete didn’t!” Her hands flew up to steeple across her nose and mouth. “Shit. Paul – “

Gaze firmly locked on his white-knuckled grip on his wrench, Paul cut her off with a slight shake of his head. “Nah. It’s … it’s fine, sweetheart.”

In two shaky steps, Charlotte was across the unit and gingerly kneeling in front of him. Slowly, as if she were approaching a spooked cat, she eased the wrench out of his hold so she could wrap his hand in her own. “No. It’s not ‘fine.’ I … I shouldn’t have said that. I promised I’d stop acting so nonchalant about the accident.” Before he could interject, she nudged his knee with her own. “Shush, lover. I really am so incredibly sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. You’re only trying to look out for me. And I appreciate that more than I could ever say.”

Finally lifting his head from staring at the floor between them, Paul’s teary eyes met hers, twisting her heart even harder. In barely a whisper, he asked, “The hell did you have to go there for?”

Letting out a harsh sigh, Charlotte stood up and whirled around. It was a motion she instantly regretted when every thing went a little off kilter and her vision started to swim. Ugh! Not this shit again. She fought against the urge to lean against the work bench to her right, not wanting Paul to decide that she needed to be taken home: that was the last place she wanted to be at that particular moment.

“Lottie?”

Finally giving up any thoughts she'd had of blowing off his question with the pretense of being fine, she practically exploded, “Ugh. I’m just … I’m so fucking tired of all the hovering!” Her fist closed around one of the lug-nut caps that were lined up on the bench, waiting patiently for the new wheels and tires that had yet to be ordered to be installed. The urge to hurl it at the closed roll-up door was only eclipsed by the desire to not mar its mirror-like finish: finding replacements that matched the original set from L.A. was hard enough the first time and she certainly didn’t want to have to do it again because she'd briefly lost her damn mind. So she forced herself to replace it into its previous spot and let out another, albeit quieter, sigh. “Look … I love Logan, ok? Like all that head over heels, all my heart bullshit? I feel all of it for him. With him. But fuck it all. He has barely given me six inches to breathe since he showed up in my damn living room. I know it's only been a few weeks, but it has felt like years and not in a good way. I mean, I had to sneak out of my own fucking home just to come down here today!”

“Sweetheart – “

“I know. And I get it. I scared the shit out of him. Hell, I scared the shit outta both of you guys. But … “ Finally turning back around – slowly and carefully this time -- to face Paul again, she let her shoulders sag. “I can’t live with someone micromanaging every second of my day. Every move I make. I … I cannot go back to that kinda life.”

Stepping up to stand in front of her, Paul gently rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms. “Have you talked to him? Told him all this?”

She laughed bitterly. “I have tried. So many times over the past few weeks. But every time I try to bring this or anything remotely related to the accident up, he just completely shuts down on me.” Voice breaking with the tears she was fighting to hold back, she muttered, “I can’t lose him again. But I can’t keep doing this either.”

“C’mere.” Careful of her still-casted arm and still-tender ribs, he wrapped his arms around her. Instinctively she tucked her face against his neck, letting his presence soothe her. After several silent moments, he pressed a kiss to her temple and asked, “You want me to talk to him ‘bout it?”

“As much as I would love for you to do that … you can’t. I have to be the one to get through to him if this is really going to work between us.”

Tightening his hug ever-so-slightly, Paul kissed her temple again. “I’m so proud of you, Lottie.”

“For what?”

“The girl I met a lil over a year ago would never.”

Pushing back from him enough to see his face, she narrowed her eyes at him as she tried to decipher his meaning. When she came up empty, she questioned him, point blank, “The hell nonsense are you talkin’ about?”

“When you first started pestering me at the sideshows, trying to bully me into giving you a spot in one of the races. You had everything so locked down, I’m not sure a stick of dynamite would have gotten you to open up. Even after I succumbed to my still-ongoing case of Stockholm Syndrome oof – “ using her cast to knock him in the stomach may not have been her smartest idea, but it was still an effective form of retaliation – “and we started hanging out more, you kept most of your feelings tucked away in that vault. I mean, sure, you eventually let me in, little by little … but, my point is, I’m proud of you for admitting how you are feeling.”

Despite the way her eyes rolled exaggeratedly, she couldn’t keep her lips from twitching with the smile threatening to break out across her face. “Would you shut up already?”

“Only after we circle back to that bit about you sneaking out to come down here. Thought you said Logan drove you?”

“Um … how ‘bout we go back to you singing my praises?” All she got in response was a stare down from Paul, so she relented with a sigh. “Fine. I noticed Logan had dozed off, so I slipped out and called a cab to bring me down.” When his eyes went wide, she held up her free hand and quickly added, “I left him a note. I’m not the one that just vanishes without a trace.” The venom in her words caught even her by surprise.

“Maybe without a trace. But never without a conversation.”

“Ugh.” Charlotte’s head fell forward so that her forehead was resting against his chest, grumbling, “Thought you were ‘posed to be my friend and stick up for me?” He shot her a knowing look, but she continued on before he could launch into the spiel she'd already heard dozens of times before. “Fine. Ok. You win. Save the damn lecture and put the time to better use. Say … running me home?”

Laughing, Paul retorted, “Bout freakin’ time, sweetheart.”

A short time later, Paul was pulling up to the curb in front of her apartment building. Mind already running through the things that she needed to say to Logan as she reached for the door handle, she jumped when Paul’s hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder. “Don’t I even get a ‘goodbye’ or ‘thank you’ first?”

“Shit! I’m sorry! Thank you so much. For letting me hang. For forcing me to talk this shit out. For bringing my ass home.”

Chuckling indulgently, he told her, “You’re welcome. For everything.” She once again started to climb from the car, but stopped when he continued, “But, I need you to promise me that you won’t sneak out like this again.”

Chuckling indulgently, she shrugged her shoulders and opened her door before tossing back, “I would, but I don’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

The glare she got in response was stern, but the effect was all but negated by the warmth in his voice as he threatened, “Fine. Lemme put it to ya this way, sweetheart. If you do it again, I’m dumping your ass. For real.”

She waited until she’d stepped out and up onto the sidewalk before she turned around to say, “It’s so adorable when you act like you could live without me, lover,” before turning to walk through the front door, blowing him a kiss from over her shoulder.

As she crossed the lobby towards the elevator bank, her eyes caught on the Out of Service sign and she let out a groan. Despite her annoyance, Charlotte didn’t blink an eye before heading for the staircase, figuring it was only a minor inconvenience. Especially since, at her last appointment, the first thing she’d asked once her doctor had mentioned that she was good to start easing back into very light physical activity was if she was okay to take the stairs to her apartment, because the ancient elevators were constantly having issues and she knew that having the freedom to move around more meant nothing if she couldn’t get in and out of her damn apartment. While he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect, he assured her that she’d be fine so long as she took it slowly and carefully. Still, she knew even with the green light from her doctor, it was going to feel like a trek after having spent so long doing little more than traversing the path between her bed and her couch.

True to her expectations, by the time she’d gotten to the second floor, she was definitely more winded than she’d usually be and her entire body was beginning to take on that achy feel of being suddenly being forced to work. But neither of those things is what had her slumping against the wall with a white-knuckled grip on the handrail. No, that was brought on by the way the world had seemingly begun to spin around her, setting her completely off balance.

What could have been five minutes or five hours later, she chanced peeking an eye open, but the vibrant mosaic tile pattern of the stairs was still swirling and swimming about in front of her, causing her to slam it back closed and drop her head back – gently – against the wall. Frustrated that the only change in how she felt was the deep churning and roiling in her gut, she finally acknowledged that she wasn’t going to be making it up the rest of the way on her own and pulled her phone from her pocket to call Logan.

Without opening her eyes, she placed her finger over the fingerprint reader, waiting for the digital clicking sound that signaled it had been unlocked, but it never came. Steeling herself for the unsettling sensations that were about to wash over her, she once again peeled an eye open and pressed the power button to wake up the screen. A loud groan escaped her when the screen remained dark, reminding her that she had forgotten to charge it the night before.

Faced with the unsettling choice of either continuing on in spite of the vertigo – which seemed risky, even by her standards – or staying in her spot for who knows how long until the episode passed, Charlotte couldn’t hold back the sobs building in the back of her throat or the tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she slid down the wall to sit on the step. All she wanted, with a desperation she hadn’t felt since those first few weeks after he'd walked away the last time in L.A., was for Logan to wrap her in his arms. To whisper all of his sweet reassurances in her ear. To be the calm and steady force that centered her through the storm.

Almost as if her longing thoughts had conjured him, he was suddenly there, hands running gently over her arms and then brushing away her tears as he rattled off question after question, not leaving her space to actually answer one before moving on to the next. It was just as well, however, considering her addled mind couldn’t seem to make any sort of sense out of the words, choosing instead to latch onto the strained breathlessness with which they were uttered.

Wanting, or rather needing, to reassure him that, while she felt awful, she was wasn’t in mortal danger, she blindly reached out until her fingers brushed against the familiar, well-worn softness of his favorite denim shirt. As she ran her fingers across what she recognized as his chest, his free hand came up to tangle gently in her hair and she sank into the touch. A beat later, his forehead was resting against hers and she couldn’t have missed the shudder that ran through his body or the shaky exhale that passed his lips if she’d tried.

Charlotte’s fingers curled around the button-lined edge of shirt and she whispered, “It’s okay baby. I’m okay,” so softly she was surprised when she felt his answering scoff fan across her face, confirming that he had actually heard her.

Instead of a snarky retort or censuring lecture she was expecting to hear, the next words out of Logan’s mouth were simply, “You good if I pick you up?”

Her eyes shot open at the almost frigid indifference in his voice and the sight in front of her knocked the wind out of her like a punch to the gut. His brows were deeply furrowed and his lips were pursed together so tightly that they were barely visible. It was one thing to know that he was worried and upset – she’d felt it in his every tentative touch -- but it was something else entirely to see it.

Wanting nothing more than to ease some of his tension, she trailed her fingers up from his chest along the side of his neck and face, across his forehead until she could smooth them along the deep-set lines running between his eyebrows. It was a left-over habit from when she’d briefly moved into his loft in L.A., one that had never failed to relax him. This time, unfortunately, it didn’t have the same effect and her heart sunk just a little bit deeper into her stomach. Feeling defeated, she let her hand, along with her gaze, drop back down to her lap as she answered his question, “Yeah. I think the dizziness is mostly gone now. So long as we take it slow, I should be fine.”

Without hesitation, Logan pulled back enough to push himself up out of his crouch and it took everything she had not to whine at the loss. Within seconds, he was leaning back down to wrap one arm around her back while the other slid underneath her knees. Instinctively, Charlotte wrapped her free arm around his neck and as soon as she did, he was standing back up and tucking her against his chest, making sure to be mindful of both the strap of the sling across her back and the bulkiness of her cast. He spared her one glance with a raised eyebrow, but immediately averted his eyes when she assured him, “I’m good.”

Despite the way that he was cradling her so carefully in his arms as he carried her up the next two flights of stairs, with what seemed like no effort at all, it felt to her as if there was an entire canyon between them. Not once did he look down at her. Not once did he even twitch as if he was thinking of dropping a kiss to the top of her head. Not once did he open his mouth as if to say something to her. Even when she had to drop her head against his shoulder as a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, the heavy silence remained.

As soon as they were back inside the apartment, Logan settled her gently onto the couch then turned to grab his pillow and a blanket from the pile of bedding he made each morning when he folded the pull-out away. Wordlessly, he tucked the blanket tightly around her – just the way she needs to be able to sleep alone. As he was reaching up to place the pillow beneath her head, she caught his wrist in her hand, whispering his name beneath her breath. Rather than make eye contact with her, he simply shook his head once and slipped away from her grip.

Stung by his rejection, Charlotte didn’t try to stop him again as he left the room. Instead, she curled up into as tight of a ball as she could on her good side, letting the scent of him on the pillow and blanket take over her senses until she was slowly drifting off into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

By the time that she woke up, the living room was cast in complete darkness, save for the bright green LED light letting her know her phone was finished charging. Lotta good that does me now. She blinked a few times in an effort to get her eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting, but still could barely make out the outlines of the rest of the furniture surrounding her. Even still, she knew Logan wasn’t in the room with her: she could always feel his presence when they were in the same space and that feeling was noticeably absent as she slowly pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the couch.

After giving herself a couple of minutes to make sure she wasn’t going to be dizzy again, she got up and headed towards the kitchen, figuring that would be his most likely location. Sure enough, she found him there, perched on one of the oversized chairs that in no way matched the tiny, shitty-ass excuse for a dining table that he currently had his forearms resting on. He was staring at the wall in front of him so intently that he didn’t even seem to hear her enter the room. Or, at least, that's what she was choosing to believe.

With just a couple more steps, she was able to close the distance between them, allowing her the ability to wrap arms around him from behind. She never made it that far, however, because as soon as her palms made contact with his shoulders, he startled and tensed beneath her touch. She opened her mouth to apologize for scaring him, but he cut her off before she had the chance, seething quietly, “Don’t you dare pull that fucking shit again.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t just sneak out without a word and then not answer your damned phone for five hours and expect me to be okay with it!”

“Okay, one? I left you a note telling you where I went. Two? As you clearly have already figured out, my fucking phone was dead. I didn’t even realize it until I was on my way back up here!”

Standing up from the chair so fast that he nearly knocked it – and her – over, Logan whipped around to face her, eyes wild with fury. “So one irresponsibility is just supposed to excuse another?”

Charlotte gave up all pretense of trying to stay calm, throwing her hands up in the air as she shouted, “For fuck’s sake, Logan! You knew where I was! If you were that damned desperate to get ahold of me, why didn’t you just call Paul?”

“I did. He wasn’t answering his goddamn phone either! By the time he finally did pick up, it was over half an hour after he’d dropped you off.” While he’d started off yelling at her in a volume that rivaled her own, Logan had trailed of into little more than a whisper by the time he was done. And that cut her deeper than the loudest insults ever could.

Unsure of how to respond, Charlotte reached up to fiddle with his spark plug necklace. It was something that had become a somewhat-nervous habit for her when he’d given it to her back in L.A. and she’d picked it up again once she’d begun wearing it almost constantly after their reunion. That simple, unthinking motion ended up being the answer to her loss of words, however, when the cool weight of it in her hand, combined with all the emotions running rampant through the room, sparked the memory of how she’d come to possess it in the first place.

“Logan, baby.” She paused, waiting until he looked up from the floor to meet her gaze before continuing gently, “You remember what you told me when you gave this to me?”

He raised an eyebrow at her as if asking her where she was going with this abrupt subject change. When she didn’t give him an answer, he let out a harsh sigh before replying, “Not entirely. I remember it was before the Grapevine job. Something about it keeping you safe like it did for me?”

“Yeah, that was part of it. You also told me how you came to wear it, too. How you'd survived a crash that you probably shouldn’t have.”

Rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air, Logan sniped, “Okay … so? What's the point of this random-ass trip down memory lane?”

“You told me that you’d almost died. In a car accident. Right before we were about to go steal four very expensive sport cars. And we were going to steal them off a car hauler on the freeway, no less.” As if he had suddenly figured out where she was going with this, his eyes widened before narrowing on her. He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not gonna lie. As much as I was so touched that you were giving me something that meant so much to you? The story behind it fucking terrified me. Because if you – who had been driving so long and had so much skill at it – could wreck like that, what chance did I have at holding up my end of the bargain? Not to mention, just the idea of you getting hurt almost sent me into a tailspin. And I’m not so sure that that wasn’t your plan all along.”

“I – “

Walking over to wrap her arm around his neck, she kissed first his cheek and then his lips briefly and tenderly. When he didn’t tense up or pull away from her, she chanced nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. “I know, baby. You were just doing whatever you could think of to keep me safe. I understand that. And I understand that the result of me being a complete dumbass during that race scared the shit out of you. But I’m still here. I’m still alive. And today’s episode notwithstanding, I’ve been feeling really good. So this whole, hovering-over-me thing? The it’s-too-dangerous-out-there-thing you’ve been doing? It’s smothering me and I … I just can’t do it. It took me far too long to escape it with Wheeler. Far too long to find the strength to realize that it was okay – more than okay – to be who I wanted to be regardless of whether the people in my life accepted it. So … as much as I hate worrying you, I cannot go back to that old, boring version of myself, the one that never really felt like me, just because it's safer.”

Logan inhaled sharply and hands tightened ever so slightly where they had been resting on her hips since she'd tucked herself into him. A couple long beats passed before he finally muttered, “You know, you seemed to have skipped over the most important part of that story, though.”

Face scrunched up, she asked, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. That wasn’t just me giving you a good luck token. That was me trying to tell you not only to make sure you’re always in control, but also to make sure you learn from life's lessons.”

“I know.”

“Do you, though?”

Taken aback by Logan’s abrasiveness, Charlotte stumbled back a step, only to be met by narrowed eyes boring into her. “I ... I … I do.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it from where I’m standing.”

“Logan – “

“Do you even realize how fucking stupid that stunt you pulled today was? What if that episode had hit when you were out there on the streets somewhere? All alone?”

Even though she knew his point was valid, Charlotte couldn’t bite back her derisive scoff. “First of all, I was literally by myself when it happened, so yeah, I have a decent idea.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Continuing on as if she hadn’t heard his outburst, she added heatedly, “Second, the only time I was by myself today was on the elevator ride down to the lobby, the walk from my cab to Paul’s storage unit and back here in the stairwell. It’s not like I was fucking gallivanting around the whole goddamn city.”

“For fuck’s sake! It’s not – you know what? Just forget it.” Throwing his hands up, Logan turned to storm out of the room.

“Sure. Just ru … run away. It’s – “ Tears that she refused to let fall clogged her throat and she pressed her lips together in an attempt to gather her composure. She realized, however, that the damage had been done, her stuttering robbing her words of their intended venom, so she pressed on with a watery whisper, “It’s what you do best.”

Practically freezing mid-step, he pivoted back around to face her, hands scrubbing at his face. “Damn it, Char. I’m not running away.” Shoulders falling when she rolled her eyes at him, he quickly closed the distance between them to lace their fingers together and insisted, “I’m not.”

“Then why – “

Without warning, Logan crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that left her short of breath when he finally pulled back just far enough to murmur, “’Cause you refuse to acknowledge how fucking reckless you’ve been and it is frustrating the ever livin’ shit outta me. And it just felt like it was better to walk away than say something I’d regret. Something just to hurt you. I don’t want … I can’t hurt you like that.”

Charlotte pulled back a little bit further to meet him square in the eye. “Future reference? Words are no big deal. You walking away? That’s the shit I can’t handle.”

Tangling his free hand in the hair at the base of her head, he gently pulled her face back so he could feather another kiss across her lips before replying, “Noted.” Another barely-there kiss. “Thing I can’t handle?” A slight tug of her bottom lip between his teeth that pulled a sharp gasp from her. “You not takin’ this shit seriously.”

This time, instead of leaning in again, Logan pulled pack just a bit further. She tried chasing after him, but he maintained their separation until she dropped her head back with a groan.

“You even listenin’ to me?”

“Um … yes?”

“Charlotte.”

“Hey!” She tried to glare at him, but instead ended up giggling, “You were the one distracting me!” When he leaned back in for another kiss, Charlotte dipped back as far as she could. “See! You’re doin’ it again!”

“Answer the question and I’ll stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?”

Shaking his head at her with a familiar and fond smile tugging the corners of his mouth upward, he chuckled, “Okay … Answer the question or I’ll stop.” As if to emphasize his point, he pulled his hand out of hers and untangled his other from her hair to place them both on her hips to keep her planted to her spot when he took a step backwards.

Making sure to soften her words with a smile, Charlotte grumbled, “Ugh. Fine. If you’re gonna be so cruel about it … “ A light pinch pulled another giggle from her. “Okay. Okay. Yes, I heard you.”

“And?”

“And … I get it.” The incredulous look he gave her almost had her flinching. “Look, I get that I haven’t been the most … appreciative for the way that you’ve been taking care of me. And I get that I can’t go back to ‘normal’ just because I want to.”

“Char – “

“Hold up! I’m not finished!” Stopping to heave a frustrated sigh, she continued, “I’m going to do better from here on out. I’m gonna take it easy until the doctors clear me. I’ll do a better job of listening to my body when it starts telling me to take a break. And I’ll stop fighting you so much about it.”

“Not stop all the way, huh?”

“I think we both know me better than that.”

Pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose, he snickered, “Okay, that’s fair. That mean we’re done with this sneaking-out shit, then?”

Raising an eyebrow defiantly, she fired back, “Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you done with all your helicopter shit? Because if you are? Then yes. I’m done sneaking out.”

Logan studied her face with an inscrutable expression on his own for what felt like hours before nodding his head once. “Fine. I’ll chill out so long as you behave.”

Wrapping her arm around his neck with a smile, she told him, “I’m so glad we got that settled. I hate fighting with you.”

“God, me too. Are you as exhausted as I am?”

Charlotte snorted as she dropped her head against his chest. “Oh, my god. You have no idea.”

“Why don’t we call it a night, then?”

The hopefulness in Logan’s voice almost made her snicker, but she managed to smother it by placing a kiss to a spot right above his heart. “That sounds like a great idea, so long as we go together tonight.

The words were barely out of her mouth before he was nodding eagerly and answering, “Done.”

A/N #2: Just in case any one is wondering (since I haven’t written about Paul and Charlotte’s friendship nearly as much as I have wanted to) and also because I just really want to share this tidbit behind Charlotte’s nickname for Paul. When the two of them first started to become friends, the way Paul was always calling her “sweetheart” drove her absolutely crazy for reasons I may actually write about at some point? lol so she decided to retaliate by calling him “lover.” Unfortunately for her, however he didn’t mind, so it obviously didn’t have the desired effect. Eventually, it became a habit of affection and each of their nicknames stuck. Thank you for indulging me in this moment of ridiculousness

Perma Tags: @burnsoslow @mvalentine @anotherbeingsworld @adiehardfan

Logan Tags: @brightpinkpeppercorn

#logan x mc #rodaw #rodtimecapsule #day four: mc

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juminsmysticmc · 3 years

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Can you do one where mc 3 meets Saeran at a volleyball game ?

Mc 3 meets Saeran at a volleyball game

Hey there, I believe that Saeran meets MC 3 for the first time there, right? I hope so because I wrote it like that now, RIP XD

So, I tried to keep it as much as possible to the original story line so I hope you like this One Shot! Please tell me about! And please, dear Volleyball players, don’t be angry at me if I described the game wrong, lol.

In Germany we actually have to play different games ( like Volleyball, Tennis, Basketball and such ) but I never were one of the students who cared much about that so, yeah, I suck at it actually XD But now enjoy!

,,Unnie! You did so well!’’ a little girl said as she ran towards me, the newcomer who I welcomed three weeks ago. Ever since then, she was clingy, something that didn’t make me feel uncomfortable at all. Instead, it made me more than happy. She quickly gave me a bottle of water as I gulped the fresh water. My throat was burning from the game I just had. The opponents were good, really good, but we could still win this match. It was something that made me so proud of myself, and of course, my team. I was panting and sweat was dripping down my forehead as I stopped drinking the water. The long red hair was still in the way, even though it was tied up. ,,Ya, Mc! Well done! I’m sure we’ll win now!’’ my coach approached me, putting her arm around my neck as she looked at me. I was actually sticky from my own sweat, which made me a bit uncomfortable, but it seemed as if she didn’t care at all. It was something that made me once again realize how lucky we were to have her as coach. ,,I didn’t do it alone,’’ I said with a big smile and looked at my team who just played with me. They did so well and just like me, they also were out of breath, gasping for air after they drank the cold water someone gave them while I talked to the coach.

,,But you’re the leader!’’ one of the players said as she closed the bottle. I smiled at my team. I was so happy that I had them. They were my motivation and my support. Back then, I was the diva in school. I luckily never bullied anybody. My ,,friends’’ back then couldn’t bring me to do the cruel things they were doing, but I wasn’t a nice girl either, until my coach nagged me one day. She was a total stranger to me when she approached me one day as I laughed about somebody further away from us.

,,You wouldn’t be able to survive a day in the real world! I hate girls like you!’’ she said, hurting my feelings, even though I didn’t know her back then. And so it happened that I wanted to show her how strong I was. I was going to survive in the so-called real world, away from all the people who made me feel strong back then. Three years later, I became the best player in volleyball and even the leader of the strongest group in Seoul.

,,But, Unnie, did you get yourself a boyfriend?’’ the little girl next to me asked with a puzzled look on her pretty face, making me follow the direction she was looking at. A young man with white hair sat in one seat, looking away immediately as he saw me looking at him. ,,No, I don’t know him…’’ I mumbled and looked back at my groups who looked concerned out of the blue. ,,Maybe a stalker?’’ someone said. ,,Maybe just a fan?’’ I laughed, not wanting to make such a fuss out of the situation. But before we could have a deeper talk about the mysterious young man, we were called back and a new game began. ,,Okay, girls, let’s do a short volley to decide who will serve,’’ I said and began to play.

We all knew that the loser game would now serve for the duration of that game, but none of us were concerned since we were good in the previous game. We knew what we were doing and honestly, I believed that we had the win in our hands already. The brown haired girl from the opposing team began to serve, taking her shot from behind the end line and choosing an underhand shot. We all observed the ball as it grazed the net. I was quickly there to block the ball, however, it never reached our side, falling down on the floor at her own side again.

I stepped back as I watched them. I figured out their problem quickly enough. Their team itself was down because they were stressed, maybe even scared of the leader or coach, even though the players themselves were good at the game. I knew what I was talking about because I was like that too at first. I turned around to my friends, my team, and smiled at them ,,Let’s keep giving our best, fighting girls!’’ I laughed.

As I turned around my gaze once again, I met the gaze of the white haired man. His eyes were fixed on me. Maybe he was even smiling at me. I felt my face blush as our eyes met. Was he really just a fan? But I never saw him here before either, so, who was that man? I couldn’t keep thinking about it since another serve was being played. This time they chose the upper hand shot. I was the opposite hitter so my position was in the back left corner of our court and scoring points was mostly my part, of course, with the help of everyone on my team. The ball flew towards us as the blonde newcomer, who was named Seri, was our server and passed the ball with an underhand bump. She was so good at this. I’d never seen a player with such a good controlled manner or such a minimal arm swing. The ball landed back on the other team’s side. This time, the server on the other side hit the ball even harder. The only way I could prevent the ball from hitting our court was spiking, making me run for my life and jump as my hand hit the ball, making it fly over the net. My swing was so powerful that no one could hold the ball, making it hit the floor, giving us winning points.

The game ended shortly afterwards, my team screaming in joy as they came to hug me. Once again, I was surprised by how lovely they were since they hugged me, even though I was so sweaty. My eyes quickly searched for the white haired man, who stood up with a smile and walked down the stairs, apparently making his way to the exit.

,,No, don’t go…’’ I whispered and followed him with my eyes. ,,So he is your boyfriend!?’’ my coach laughed and looked at me. ,,Follow him!’’ she smiled and hit my back, making me stumble forward. And so, even though I didn’t know him, I followed him, outside where the cold air hit my face, making me shiver.

,,You!’’ I called him, making him finally turn around to me. His eyes caught me, making me stop moving. ,,Who are you…?’’ I asked him, my voice was trembling even though I didn’t know why.

,,I… I’m someone who needs you. I would love to explain it to you if you’d like,’’ he softly said. His voice made my heart jump in happiness. He had the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. The man approached me and stroked my cheek.

,,I need your help. You’re the only one who can help me. But you now need to win your game, so Mc, go back there and win. I will wait for you in that car. Will you be willing to come with me? I’ll bring you to a wonderful place,’’ he whispered. At that time I didn’t know why, but I just agreed.

,,Actually, my game ended. I can come right away if you need me,’’ I mumbled. He smiled at me, making me blush once again. ,,I would be more than happy to take you with me right now,’’ he said, touching my long red hair. I gulped and began to tremble when he took my hand, leading me towards the car.

At that time I still didn’t know what fate would await me as I followed the mysterious man.

MASTERLIST 1

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28.04.2021// 21:27 MEST

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themonkeycabal · 3 years

Text

WandaVision Episode 9 Spoilers

I can't believe we're already at the finale.

This has been better than I expected, though I didn't have any particular expectations one way or the other. I had hoped it would be bonkers, and it's had its moments, but I didn't expect it to be breaking my heart. I'm glad Wanda (and Elizabeth Olsen) got this moment to shine. It was very well done, and it's been nice to have fun with a Marvel property again. It's been a little while.

My wishlist for this episode is simply that somebody, anybody punch Acting Director Dick square in the face. And also that Jimmy Woo arrests him. A lot.

Other than that, I don't know what to expect, or how they wrap this up in 30 minutes.

Previously on: Wanda finally earned the name Scarlet Witch after Agatha made her relive the worst moments of her life. Harsh, Agatha. Vision uttered a line that launched a thousand gif sets. And Hayward revealed his genius masterplan which is a reactivated Vision, devoid of color and powered by the energy bleeding from Wanda's hex. I'm sure that will go swimmingly for him.

Let's see how this all ends.

Agatha still has magical tethers around Billy and Tommy's necks, which obviously Wanda doesn't like. Agatha gives the boys a tug, knocking them back, and Wanda lets loose, walloping Agatha. The boys are now free, but Wanda tells them to go to their room. They object, she insists, Tommy grabs Billy and they zoom off. Wanda hits Agatha again with a hex, but Agatha sort of collects it into a little glowy ball in her hand. Oops.

"I take power from the undeserving. It's kinda my thing."

Wanda notices her hand turning gray and gnarly — the look of somebody about to be magically mummified. Agatha hits her with a hex and taunts her some more.

"You're clearly in over your little, red head, so why don't you surrender your magic to someone who knows what to do with it?" Agatha, you're pushing your luck. "I'll let you keep this pathetic corner of the world all to yourself. What do you say?"

Wanda says she will throw a car right at your face, Agatha. I laughed. Didn't see that coming, did you? Knocked Agatha right out of her boots.

As Wanda is investigating, Director Dick's white Vision floats down behind her. He's creepy looking.

Wanda walks over to him, staring at him. "Is it really you?"

He puts his hands on her face, all gentle like, but it's a lie. He starts to squeeze. "And I was told you were powerful."

Gross, AD Dick. I hope you get stepped on by Ant-Man when he's being Giant-Man.

Sitcom World Vision (hereafter just plain old Vision) makes a timely reappearance, and takes out Not!Vision. He wants to know where the boys are, Wanda assures him they're safe, and she apologizes for everything and that she should have told him what was happening, "the moment I realized what I'd done". Poor Wanda. He tells her it's alright. She says she can fix it. Not!Vision climbs out of the burning remains of a camper.

Agatha reappears to note the awkwardness of the situation. She asks Wanda who she's going to choose, the ex or the boyfriend. What happens when Wanda hits you with more power than you can contain, Agatha?

Wanda tells Vision "this is our home." He agrees, "then let's fight for it." I hope for the best for you two crazy kids! Marvel has a dicey record on happy endings, though. Sorry!

Vision takes off towards Not!Vision again. Agatha flies off, too, and Wanda follows.

Across the street Monica is pounding on a window, calling for Wanda. Fietro, lounging with a guitar in his … stoner den?, tells her nobody can hear her. Can we talk about how Monica's SWORD uniform looks like ST:Next Gen unis? I can't stop seeing it and it's distracting. Anyway, she tries to escape, but, Fietro is still all fast and stuff, so she's thwarted.

In the sky, Vision and Not!Vision battle. Not!Vision says Wanda must be neutralized and Vision must be destroyed. Hmm. Not!Vision tries to rip out the stone in Vision's forehead but Vision goes intangible. More fighting with intangibleness. It's pretty cool.

Outside Westview, AD Dick is feeling cocky as he watches both Visions on tracking monitors. I loathe him so much. Jimmy Woo is brought in handcuffed by a pair of SWORD goons. I'm sorry, who the f is SWORD? Like, they have arrest powers now? Dick says "hey, it's my favorite member of the Bureau." New wishlist: everybody gets to take turns punching AD Dick in the face.

Dick asks his minion to reconfirm mission objectives while Jimmy listens carefully, mentally noting each and every violation of federal law and the Sokovia Accords.

The minion says she can't get through to not!Vision, his system is overloaded. A cellphone rings on a desk nearby and Jimmy eyes it, then tells Hayward that he'll never be able to cover up these shenanigans.

While Dick is busy boasting and the SWORD goons are doing everything but paying attention to their prisoner (in my head all the SWORD goons applied to SHIELD but Maria Hill laughed at each and every one of their applications and then called Pepper to laugh some more and then texted choice bits to May tagging them "RE: LOL"), Jimmy eases over and grabs the phone.

"Wanda canceled her show,” Dick says with the sort of confidence only an enormous prick can muster, “so there's no footage proving there was ever more than one Vision."

Jimmy points out that that is dumb, because there is other footage, from SWORD HQ and stuff, and probably evidence of tampering. He casually sits on a table, shaking his head, like he's just so disappointed (i'm hoping he's somehow managed to use the phone to record the monolog-ing) .

Dick is still too far up his own ass to notice Jimmy being sneaky. "No one's going to care once I've eliminated Wanda Maximoff. They'll believe that the Vision that emerges from the Westview rubble is the one she illegally tried to bring back to life."

Wait, bringing him back to life is illegal? You're full of shit, Dick. And also, an extremely terrible person, who will destroy a whole town for … something? A Vision weapon? Who are you fighting, Dick? BTW, I award him no sympathy points for surviving in the post-Snap world. So if he's been scarred by that or whatever, I don't care. Trauma doesn't excuse murdery megalomania. As has been said before: Cool motive, still murder. I hope Vision intangibles him into a lamp post that gets peed on every day by a parade of small dogs.

"They'll thank me for recovering such a valuable asset. You could be part of that victory, Jimmy. If only you had a little more … vision" says the smug prick who is asking for it. And by it I mean something both terrible and humiliating to happen to him asap.

Jimmy fake laughs back. "That's a good one, Hayward. Okay, I'm convinced. The trouble is my friends at Quantico will probably have something to say about your plan. When they arrive. Inside the hour." heh.

Oh, poor Dick doesn't like being mocked back. He tells his brain-dead goons to remove Jimmy. The goons throw Jimmy into a … stack of hay? In a fenced in cage thing? As you have on your pop-up military facility. Where he sets to work removing his handcuffs with a clip he also stole, because Jimmy Woo is cool like that. Close Up Magic! See the things you can learn from criminals. "Flourish" lol.

He calls his friends at Quantico. "I was hoping you could get here … inside the hour?"

Back in Westview. Wanda is looking for Agatha while the town goes about its business. Weirdo delivery guy drives by "Don't shoot. I'm just the messenger. ha ha."

Then she gets hit in the back by a purple hex. Ouch. She has hit the pavement hard kind of a lot in this episode already. That hurts, my dudes, I know this from personal falling down experience. Wanda's hand, by the way, is still looking ashy and not very healthy.

Agatha taunts her from a rooftop. "Did you know there's an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold." How could she know that, Agatha? Also, boo the Darkhold. That bit of nastiness led to the Framework, and I'm still a little scarred by that myself. "That's the book of the damned," says the witch standing in front of a billboard for "Squeaky Shine" lol.

Agatha produces the Darkhold and recites from it, "The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven, nor need for incantation." Wanda insists she isn't a witch, nobody taught her magic.

Agatha continues, "Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme" Steven Strange will like that. Not much. He's so twitchy about things like that. "It's your destiny to destroy the world." Always with the destinies. FREE WILL FOREVAH!

Wanda insists she's not the Scarlet Witch thingy. Agatha says "oh really?" and uses her mojo on Emma Caulfield. Hi Emma Caulfield! She seems to be 'awake' and introduces herself to Wanda (who knew her as Dottie) "My name is Sarah. I have a daughter, she's 8, maybe she could be friends with your boys. If you like that storyline. Or the school bully, even. Really anything, if you could just let her out of her room. If I could just hold her." Wow, ouch.

Speaking of free will or the lack of, Wanda accuses Agatha of doing this, but Agatha says "She's your meat puppet. I just cut her strings." Poor Wanda. And now Agatha wakes up the whole town, who all head towards Wanda.

And we cut to Fietro's den of manchildness. Monica asks what that place is, but come on Monica, it's clearly a den of manchildness. Fietro is making himself a smoothie and explaining the purpose of a mancave — chillaxing.

Monica ignores him and rifles through his bills and whatnot. She finds a headshot of Fietro with the name "Ralph Bohner" underneath. Because, people just keep their headshots lying around willynilly. Wait, are we saying Ralph is an actor? Lol.

Fietro meanwhile is planning for a Steven Segal marathon — my dad and I watched all of those movies and for the life of me I could not tell you why. We didn't *like* them. I mean, mostly we laughed, but still. Why?

Anyway, Monica is trying to solve the mystery of Fietro. It's not Agatha's house (obviously) it's Fietro's (Ralph). He's an ass and asks if she wants to fight some more, so she flips him over her shoulder and pins him down, trying to figure out how Agatha is controlling him. With her new glowy eyes, she notices the bead necklace he's wearing sparkles in a magically way. She rips it off and Fietro becomes Ralph.

Elsewhere the Visions are still battling in the sky and the boys are watching from their bedroom. They lose sight of dad, but Billy gets a vision of mom in trouble in the town square. He and Tommy run off.

The townsfolk are confused and scared. Wanda tells them they're all going to be fine. "When you let us sleep, we have your nightmares." Ouch. Wanda insists she kept them safe. Wanda, sweetie, you're very far in over your head.

"You feel, you feel at peace," she tells them, kind of hoping that works. It doesn’t. "We feel your pain." "Your grief is poisoning us." "Please let us go." This is an awful thing to do to Wanda, Marvel!

It escalates with all those voices begging her to free them and she screams, grabbing her head, and when she does that, red light appears around the throats of the townies, silencing them, choking them. Wanda realizes and puts her glowy hands up "stop, stop, I'm sorry", releasing them all.

"If you won't let us go, let us die." Wanda promises to let them go. Agatha wonders what's stopping her from actually doing it.

"Heroes don't torture people." Agatha's a very sink-or-swim kind of teacher.

That does the trick and Wanda throws her arms back and yells to the sky, releasing her power up at the hex surrounding the town. "Go, all of you. Now, go." The people run and the town flickers through the eras and the barrier starts to fall.

Outside, Director Dick tells his morons "this is it, we're going in!"

The Visions keep on battling, but as the barrier falls, Vision starts to falter himself. I was afraid of that.

The Morons roll in with their big trucks and big guns because … reasons. I have a very low opinion of SWORD. Maria Rambeau's agency deserves better than this shitshow.

Vision falls and it looks like bits of him are chipping off. He hits the ground hard, he gets up, but he's glitching, too, falling apart as Wanda takes down her spell. He reaches for her. The boys appear now, too, screaming for mom, but they seem to be flickering as well, flying apart in pixelly pieces. Poor Wanda.

Agatha says "Now do you see? You tied your family to this twisted world and now one can't exist without the other." This is terrible. "Save Westview or save your family." TERRIBLE.

Wanda pulls the hex into herself again, recreating the barrier. The kids and Vision recover and run to her. Outside, as the hex closes, Jimmy Woo is, yet again, left to stare at the barrier, cut off from the fun inside. Poor guy, lol. But, his FBI buddies are arriving, so at least he won't get lonely.

Agatha throws a hex at Wanda and Wanda throws up a shield to protect her family. Which Agatha starts to draw towards herself like the magic vampire she is. Greedy Agatha. Wanda's arms are all gray. And SWORD rolls into town square, because that's what this confrontation needed — these dipshits.

Anyway, the Family stands ready to face Director Dick and his morons, in a quality recreation of the Incredibles family pose. "Listen boys, your mother and I never really prepared you for this," dad says. Because your boys are like three days old, Vision, it's okay. "But you were born for it," Wanda assures them very fiercely. Get 'em, sister!

As they square off, Vision's like "oh crap, it's the other me, back in a mo'" and flies off to tackle Not!Vision who's trying to sneak up behind them.

They destroy the town library and Vision wants to know why Not!Vision gotta be like that. "My programming directive is to destroy the Vision."

Ha ha, says Vision, a loophole. "But, I'm not the true Vision, only a conditional Vision."

Hmmm, says Not!Vision, and they stop fighting, "I request elaboration". Hey, Vision, move into Not!Vision's body and you can be true Vision again! Problem solved, my work here is done.

Back to the street where we find Dick and his Morons and Agatha who is not making this situation at all better. The morons point their guns at Agatha who magics them up off the ground like thirty feet in the air, "Same story, different century. There will always be torches and pitchforks for ladies like us, Wanda." I'm not going to say you're wrong, Agatha, and God knows these SWORD morons are morons, but you're also a pain in the ass. So …

Anyway, then Agatha drops them and Wanda reaches out to catch them. But once caught, she does let them drop the last five or six feet. They'll be fine, but also they deserved it, so I laughed.

"Boys, handle the military. Mommy will be right back." They're my new favorite family.

Wanda flies up to tangle with Agatha and Agatha is super ready except … Wanda throws a curveball and disappears. Suck it Agatha.

Down on the ground the SWORD morons continue to cover themselves in glory and point their guns at CHILDREN. I don't care if they're powered children, you know what I'd like, I'd like if one of the morons would just be like "um, but … they're kids and how about no? I'm going to get Jimmy Woo! He'll know what to do. Don't try and stop me!" That doesn't happen.

Billy freezes the soldiers in place and Tommy super speeds by and steals their guns and hats. AD Dick, being the absolutely loathsome, vile, lower-than-a-maggot, piece of shit that he is, gets out of his humvee and shoots at the CHILDREN.

Monica, who has just arrived to the party, runs and throws herself between Dick and the boys, taking the bullets meant for them. Her new powers render her sort of … I don't even know. Not quite intangible, but she kind of looks like a ballistics gel dummy and the bullets go through her but they slow down a lot as they pass and then just sort of fall on the ground. Dick, crossing the line into pure evil, fires again, the bullet misses Monica and heads towards Billy, who just raises his hand and stops it with his power then he grins at Monica.

"Nice tricks," she tells him.

"I like yours, too," he says.

Dick tries to fire AGAIN! But he's out of bullets. He only had four? Or maybe his gun jammed. Anyway, like the brave man he is, he runs to the humvee, gets in, reverses at speed, stops and looks like he's going to put it in gear and drive at them because the dude is unhinged. But! Lo! It's Darcy and the funnel cake truck, that is apparently built like a tank, though come to think of it, it probably was an armored vehicle in the real world.

Anyway, she t-bones Dick's vehicle, thwarting his evility for the moment. "Have fun in prison." Lol

Back to the Visions. They're having a philosophical debate. "You are familiar with the thought experiment "The Ship of Theseus" in the field of identity metaphysics," Vision prompts Not!Vision.

"Naturally." And Not!Vision helpfully spells it out for us. "The ship of Theseus is in a museum. Over time its planks of wood rot and are replaced with new planks. When no original planks remain, is it still the ship of Theseus?"

Vision presses his advantage, "Secondly. If those removed planks are restored and reassembled, free of the rot, is that the ship of Theseus?"

To sum up, neither is the true Vision, both are the true Vision.

"But I do not have the mind stone," says not!Vision.

"And I do not have one single ounce of original material," replies Vision. "Perhaps the rot is the memories. The wear and tear are the voyages. The wood touched by Theseus himself."

Not!Vision says he doesn't have the memories, though, but Vision insists he does, the data is still there, hidden. Not!Vision says nah, Vision must be the true Vision because he believes himself to be. But, Vision says that's not true anymore, he plays the reverse card, "upon meeting you, I have been disabused of that notion." This is the most philosophy nerd game of 'not it' ever.

Vision continues to try to get at Not!Vision's memories. "As a carbon-based synthazoid, your memory storage is not so easily wiped. May I?" Not!Vision allows Vision to touch the glowy bit where the memory stone used to be, and Not!Vision is flooded with Vision's memories. Not!Vision's eyes go … normal, I guess you'd say, no longer robot-like and glowy.

"I am Vision" he says and flies off. It was a lot to take in, I guess. He needs a little me-time.

I guess we're going to have to go back to calling Vision Sitcom!Vision, anyway, he goes outside and the boys run over to him and there's hugging and stuff.

Agatha stalks them from the rooftop, but it seems she might have forgotten Wanda for a second, because Wanda appears behind her and does that thing she does where she makes you see your worst fear. Enjoy that, Agatha!

Agatha sees herself bound to the stake in the woods again. Her coven dead. Wanda is there in the vision, too. "You see the difference between you and me, is that you did this on purpose."

The coven rise from the dead and shuffle to her while Agatha begs for it to stop. But, then Agatha gets control of herself, I guess, and the undead mummy witches start saying Wanda's name and pointing at her. You're just no fun at all, Agatha.

Now the coven ties Wanda to the stake. "You can't win, Wanda. Power isn't your problem; it's knowledge." That is, actually, very true. Wanda's Scarlet Witch headpiece appears on her all magical-like, marking her as the Scarlet Witch of myth, I suppose.

"Give me your power, and I will correct the flaws in your original spell. And you and your family and the people of Westview can all live together in peace."

If Agatha is so smart, why doesn't she just take Wanda's power, hmm?

"And no one will ever have to feel this pain again. Not even you," Agatha tries cajoling, but that was the wrong tack to take. Wanda gives her the head tilt of imminent ass-kicking, and her powers explode outward, flinging way the weird creepy coven of zombie mummies. Then Wanda knocks them both back into Westview.

She starts hammering Agatha with her powers. "Take it, I don't want it." Vision tries to fly up to help her, but she blocks him with a spell.

Witch fight in the clouds. Every time Wanda misses Agatha, her hexes hit the shield. Outside Jimmy Woo looks on, concerned.

"There's more," Agatha says, "I want it all." Wanda's looking a little mummified, but she's still flinging hexes left and right while Agatha cackles evilly. Eventually Wanda runs out of steam and just sort of hovers there.

"About our deal. Once case, a spell can never be changed." You're terrible, Agatha. Very cruel. "This world will always be broken. Just. Like. You." Low, Agatha. Lower than dirt

Agatha gathers herself and tries to hit out at Wanda with all that yummy power but it just fizzles. Nothing happens. Oh noes, Agatha, what's wrong?

Wanda starts looking like her normal self again and behind her glows a giant rune. Oh, dear, Agatha, you taught Wanda something. When she was missing Agatha and hitting the shield all those times, she was actually casting runes. LOL to you.

The sky is angry and red and stormy. Monica, Vision, and the boys look on.

"In a given space," Wanda says, "only the witch who cast them [runes] can use her magic. Thanks for the lesson, but, I don't need you to tell me who I am."

The Scarlet Witch headpiece reappears and now Agatha has her a fright. I like you Agatha, you're rotten in fun way, but you took it too far, sister. Wanda takes her power back with prejudice and she is transformed into the Scarlet Witch. Updated version of the classic costume. Nice, I like it.

"Oh god," Agatha gasps, "You don't know what you've done." Wanda drops her on the ground more gently than she deserved.

Agatha asks if Wanda's going to lock her up somewhere. And Wanda says, yeah, here in lovely Westview. "I'll give you the role you chose; the nosy neighbor."

"You have no idea what you've unleashed. You're gonna need me." "If I do, I know where to find you." lol

And Wanda turns Agatha back into Agnes. "Hiya, hon. Say, that some kind of getup you're wearing. Did I leave the oven on, or is that just you, hot stuff."

Wanda says goodbye and walks over to her family, kissing her boys.

Vision says their dream home has turned into a fixer-upper. "I know you'll set everything right. Just not for us."

"No," Wanda agrees because Marvel likes to hurt us all. "Not for us."

Monica kind of bounces on her toes, trying to get Wanda's attention, but probably also not entirely wanting Wanda's attention. Wanda gives her a hesitant nod as she and Vision leave with the boys.

The field around town starts to shrink, the circus turns back into the SWORD base.

They get home and tuck the boys into bed.

"Big day today," Vision says. "Your mother and I … are very proud of you both."

"Very proud," Wanda agrees. "You know, a family is forever. We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried. You know that right?"

They kiss their boys goodnight. Outside the window, the field flickers and fails. "Boys, thanks for choosing me to be your mom."

The town of Westview returns to its sad old self, street by street. Wanda turns out the lights in their home.

But, Vision turns one back on. "Oh, I read somewhere, that it's bad luck to say goodbye in the dark." "No, you didn't." You guys are killing me.

Why did this have to be so good and sad?

And finally the collapsing field reaches their street, they watch it coming.

"Wanda, I know we can't stay like this, but before I go, I feel I must know, what am I?"

She touches his face. "You, Vision, are the piece of the mind stone that lives in me. You are a body of wires and blood and bone that I created. You are my sadness and my hope, but mostly you're my love." Stupid show, my screen went blurry there for a second.

Vision cries a bit, they both are a little astonished by the tear.

"I have been a voice with no body, a body but not human. And now, a memory, made real. Who knows what I might be next." Aww, Vision, I love you.

Here comes the field.

"We have said goodbye before, so it stands to reason—" "We'll say hello again." STUPID SHOW why do you have to make me feel things?

The field collapses and everything is stripped back into nothing. "So long, darling." And Wanda stands in the empty lot, in the foundations of the home that never was.

She walks away again. Poor Wanda. And back into town. The people look at her, they don't seem happy. I don't know why she chose to do that, she does have a car. Ah, she's going to talk to Monica.

"They'll never know what you sacrificed for them," Monica says. "It wouldn't change how they see me," Wanda tells her. "And you? You don't … you don't hate me?" "Given the chance, and given your power, I'd bring my mom back. You know I would." "I'm sorry, for all the pain I caused."

Wanda promises to figure out her power and then files off. The End.

Heartbreaking. Good, but heartbreaking.

Mid-credits scene. Jimmy Woo is large and in charge. He's setting up the incident response in town, ordering folks around (in his good natured way).

Jimmy spots his friend. "Monica!" "Authority looks good on you, Jimmy." "Where's Darcy?" "Something about ‘debriefs are for the weak’?" lol "But we can thank her for that."

And down the street AD Dick is being arrested. Nobody punched him in the face. I'm sad. Darcy came closest, I guess. What with hitting him with the very large truck. It will have to do.

Monica is summoned to the theater by another agent. Hmm nobody there. The agent follows. "I was sent by an old friend of your mother's." And the agent is a Skrull. "He heard you'd been grounded. He'd like to meet with you."

"Where?"

The Skrull points up.

What was Fury's Skrull buddy's name? I don't recall. I didn't actually like the Captain Marvel movie. I felt like they told it backwards, and also they should have just cast a younger actor to play young Nick Fury. That bugged me. And I wanted more of Annette Benning’s character. Anyway … I guess we know where we’ll see Monica again.

Well, that was fun. Like I said, I'm not sure what I expected from this series, just that it be some degree of fun, I guess. But it was much better than whatever I had half-envisaged. AND SADDER, MARVEL.

Thank goodness for the multi-verse. I'm sure we'll see some version of the boys again. And also Not!Vision, who is probably also Vision at this point, knocking around the world, trying to find himself. Talk about identity crisis. I feel you, brother. Stay safe, get plenty of whatever passes for rest for you!

See you guys in a couple of weeks for Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I WANT NO TEARS FROM THAT ONE! Unless it's tears of laughter.

ETA: FOR THE SECOND POST CREDITS SCENE THAT I MISSED. Stupid Marvel hiding things from me. Thank you, @beelzebufo

Mountains, a mountain lake, a place I’d like to be right now. Wanda sits on the porch of her lonely little cabin. The tea kettle whistles and she goes inside. There’s a rattling and whispering from the other room, where the astral projection(?) of the Scarlet Witch reads the Darkhold and her children call for her. I don’t know, Wanda, seems dicey, that’s not a very nice book.

FOR REAL THE END THIS TIME

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wandavision liveblog #long post

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ryouverua · 3 years

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I've some bitter thoughts about Rika and how damaging her actions (or.. inactions) were to Satoko in Gou but it's weird- dunno how to say it without it coming out like she 'deserved all the hell she got' (when that's not the point at all). Hanyu warned her about /exactly/ this kinda crap in the original though, and without a leash on her so to speak she'd gone full escapist-fantasy at Satoko's expense to the point of even neglecting her through solitary confinement... yikes

Oh man, I’m so with you. I’m going to do spoilers underneath for obvious reasons (and maybe vague Umineko spoilers because Ryukishi07 loves re-exploring certain themes and it shows) but I will say, the bigger the backlash against Satoko got the more I got entrenched in my own position lmao - not the best attitude, but hey, might as well admit my biases upfront.

Like, even now I have to immediately preface this with ‘Rika doesn’t deserve this’. Of course she doesn’t. No one deserves this. But could she have prevented this with a little more thoughtfulness? 100%. And I think that’s what sets off a lot of people - on first glance, it does come off as very victim-blamey, because it seems to put the onus on Rika and really, that isn’t fair at all. Just like it wasn’t fair to Keiichi in Watanagashi/Meakashi that not giving the doll to Mion triggered those tragedies, or (to be as light on spoilers as possible) Battler’s ‘sin’ in Umineko has the effect it does. But the fact is, they do matter, and it is hammered home hard in their respective stories. Everyone acknowledges (and in canon, even Rika!) that if Keiichi had understood Mion’s feelings better and hadn’t thoughtlessly given the doll to Rena instead, then the tragedy with Shion wouldn’t have happened. And yeah, that’s messed up! But it’s true! Ryukishi07 loves the rippling butterfly effects of small, seemingly inconsequential thoughtless actions that end up hurting others in ways you don’t realize until it’s too late.

Like wow, it’s wild to me that even after all the terrible things Satoko did to Rika, the part of Gou that affects me the most is Rika’s impassioned plea for Satoko to come with her to St. Lucia’s (where all teenage girls go to suffer lol) after Satoko is completely upfront with her in her first loop, explaining how she’s not cut out for it, she’s going to struggle with studying, etc etc.... and then just. The juxtaposition of the same outcome that happens a few years later, when everything Satoko is scared of happens again. And maybe it’s because we don’t get to be dragged along the full years those two episode cover that makes it harder for a lot of the viewers to connect with Satoko’s misery and motive (I, personally, connect a little too closely with it bc of some personal experience and can confirm that for someone from a much worse background Satoko would be miserable and isolated in ways I can’t even imagine), but it just seems so odd to me how many people won’t acknowledge that Rika’s actions - or specifically, inaction - again, something Ryukishi07 highlights over and over again as a huge character flaw for her - led to this outcome.

And to bring it back to what you said about Hanyuu - you’re right, she does warn Rika about this explicitly that she’s treating Satoko like some neglected pet (I think I referred to her as Rika’s ‘comfort stuffed animal’) in the VNs because she’s such a staple of Rika’s lives that she can’t imagine being without her. This also comes up with Saikoroshi when everyone’s lives are ‘fixed’, everyone’s families are perfect, Satoko and her aren’t friends (and admittedly she does bully Rika) and what happens? 1) Infamous ‘Rika beats Satoko with a chair’ scene and 2) Rika decides that her perfect Matsuribayashi ending is better despite Hanyuu telling her that this is the perfect world for everyone, so bye-bye Satoko’s parents & Satoshi lmao (yes I’m oversimplifying it because the moral of that story is that the lessons they learned from their suffering/struggles made them into better people and we’re left with the question of whether it was a dream world or not but like, especially considering the cost of returning to the Matsuribayashi fragment, that’s kinda... messed up, Rika!). a-also omg do you think Satoko saw that fragment as an option because if she did, ouch....

To wrap this already messy ask up in an equally messy bow, Rika is living with that ‘uncompromising happiness’ ideal from her poem which is great.... except in loop 1 & 2, she fully stuck to that at Satoko’s expense. There was a point that Satoko was willing to (and would rather have) stayed behind and let Rika go to St Lucia by herself. It’s only in Loop 3, after Rika chased her out of the bookstore, after Rika insisted that ‘she wasn’t going to compromise on her happiness, she wanted both St Lucia & Satoko at her side’ that it became an all-or-nothing game. And yeah, obviously the hell Rika’s been going through since then is absolutely disproportionate to her ‘sin’, but there is just no getting around the fact that this was entirely preventable.

#Higurashi Gou spoilers #Vaguest of Umineko spoilers #smacks ‘yes I understand Rika doesn’t deserve what she’s going through’ sign repeatedly #Higurashi no naku koro ni Gou #Higurashi no naku koro ni #also Saikoroshi-hen spoilers #Rika Furude #Satoko Houjou

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lesbianlotties · 3 years

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(i swear) i thought i dreamed her

Andromaquynh Secret Santa gift for @aw-hawkeye-no Merry Christmas!!! 🎄❤⚔

(you suggested AUs, "modern, fake dating," and i just ignored the comma and did both lol i really hope you like it!!)

and a lot of love to @thirst-teenth for organizing this event and just being great ❤

Do I know about "fashion stuff"? nope. Do I know about "CIA stuff"? not really. did i completely ignore both just to bring you fake dating fluff and humor, quynh bullying andy, and andy being a complete mess for her? absolutely!!! so here it goes

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Words: 5975

“Did you hire me to play the part of your fucking bodyguard?”

“No… I’m a humble fashion designer, I’m not meant to know the very best secret agent the world has to offer... I hired you to play the part of my fucking wife.”

Quynh is an Intelligence agent suddenly on the receiving end of some serious threats that demand the presence of one particular special agent. Andy isn't thrilled to play bodyguard, but soon she will find out it might be the very best job of her entire life.

Most times, when Andy had to visit James Copley’s office, she found it amusing. She would tease him for the walls covered in what she called conspiracy theories, and she’d think he looked so small behind his big desk. This time, however, she found the space suffocating, and his presence was nothing short of annoying.

“I don’t work like this, Copley,” she shook her head at him, “I don’t work with Intelligence, I don’t do undercover missions, and especially, I don’t play bodyguard for the rich ones.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he tried to insist. Copley was pretty much squirming in his seat. Andy was sitting on a chair on the other side of the desk, tense and angry, but she was as confident as he was uncomfortable. “Listen, Andy,” he tried again, “This is the kind of job you need after… you know. It’ll be good for you to stay out of high-risk missions for a while. And, anyway, it’s all I can get for you for the time being.”

She scowled at him, “Is it CIA?”

“Not exactly. Outside work. We call it freelance now.”

“Sure,” Andy rolled her eyes, “What exactly will it be then?”

“I think it’s best if she tells you in person,” Copley had the nerve to smile at her, as if Andy wasn’t going through one of the worst moments of her career and settling for a job she didn’t even want in the first place. Her frown must have conveyed that exact emotion, because the man in front of her had the decency to look a bit embarrassed, if only to cover his amusement. “She asked for you specifically.”

Andy frowned all the way back to her apartment, and her expression only eased when she settled down on her couch, ready to skim through the pages of her new employer’s file. However, she found herself completely engrossed in every bit of confidential information she managed to learn about Quynh. An agent of International Intelligence, linked to every major organization but not committed to any, with an interesting and impressive cover job as a fashion designer turned CEO of her own company with headquarters in Vietnam. The woman was a lethal weapon in designer clothes, designed by herself also, and just the thought of her threatened to drive Andy crazy. Thinking of how she could possibly hold a meeting with the head of the CIA right before a fashion show, and why exactly would she need Andy, a special agent with war experience who rarely wore clothes that weren’t some type of uniform.

Andy could admit she was intrigued by this job and maybe even Quynh in specific. What she wouldn’t ever admit to anybody, was the way that night her mind decided to craft a beautiful, breathtaking, completely unexpected, and detailed dream about Quynh.

Andy wasn’t nervous, she would have strongly denied that to anybody who asked. As she stood alone in the elevator that would take her to Quynh’s office at the top of a building that surveyed everything about the woman’s fashion company, Andy swore she was feeling just… uneasy. She wasn’t used to working without a team. She wasn’t used to working in any way that wasn’t direct action against a threat. Worst of all, Copley hadn’t explained much more to her before she left her office. The conversation she was about to have could change everything.

When Andy entered the office, she noticed two things. One, the space was beautiful, elegant, but surprisingly welcoming. Two, she was all alone.

“Hello?” she said, and cleared her throat.

Suddenly, a door at the side of the room opened and from it came out the most beautiful woman Andy had ever seen and wouldn’t admit to that very fact. Quynh was wearing a perfectly tailored white suit and she looked nothing short of magnificent.

“Welcome,” Quynh stepped forward and offered her hand in greeting, “Andromache, right?”

“You can call me Andy,” the taller woman replied, feeling a sense of pride at the way Quynh stared at their joined hands, held for a moment longer than necessary, and took a deep breath when she finally stepped back.

“Andromache, please sit.”

Although she did as asked, Andy had to hold back a frown. “What’s through there?” she nodded at the door from which the other woman had come out of.

“You’re not meant to know,” Quynh replied, sitting down on her own chair. She leaned in forward and rested her elbows on the desk in front of her, then rested her chin on her folded hands.

Andy met her eyes, dark and beautiful, and took a deep breath herself. “Okay. What sort of Intelligence you work for?” she asked.

“Also not meant to know.”

The answer made Andy grit her teeth, but she refused to look away from the other woman’s smug smile. “Fine. What’s my mission then?”

Quynh leaned back on her chest and smiled, “Your goal would be to fall madly in love with me.”

“Okay, you know what-”

“Hey, no, no, I’m sorry!” Quynh allowed herself one chuckle but then trained her face to seriousness when she noticed the other woman’s hand on the chair’s armrests, ready to flee the building. She stood up and walked around her desk to lean against it and stare at Andy. “I’m sorry. Listen, do you… did Copley tell you I asked for you specifically?” she tilted her head in wonder.

“Yes,” Andy nodded, and attempted to relax again on her seat, “Why is that?”

“Because I saw you in a dream,” Quynh grinned.

“Fucking…” Andy mumbled to herself and jumped out of her seat, determined to escape before she said something she could get in trouble for.

“Okay! No! Please… listen,” Quynh reached out and wrapped her fingers around Andy’s wrist, stopping her in place and soothing her temper. They were both standing up then, leaning against Quynh’s desk. Quynh took a deep breath, and talked to Andy with sincerity in her voice for what looked like the first time in the entire conversation. “I heard what happened to you. Betrayal. I can relate,” she met Andy’s eyes, and saw at once how guarded the other woman was, and how intently she was listening, “I got a death threat. A dozen of them, whatever. I believe it comes from someone in my inner circle. Someone that wants me to stop playing with the big names of the CIA and friends. But someone close enough to know where to follow me during my day job.”

When she was done, Quynh had allowed only a hint of fear to show on her eyes, but it had been enough to ease the tension from Andy’s shoulders. She knew, at once, that she couldn’t have refused the job, not even if she had actually wanted to say no.

“Did you hire me to play the part of your fucking bodyguard?” Andy said, calmly, amusement just barely there, but enough for Quynh to notice and relax too.

“No… I’m a humble fashion designer, I’m not meant to know the very best secret agent the world has to offer,” Quynh replied, sending a smile in Andy’s way. Then she sat down on one of the chairs on that side of the desk, nodding her head, inviting Andy to take the other chair. Quynh added, imitating Andy’s words back to her with a teasing grin she couldn’t hold back, “I hired you to play the part of my fucking wife.”

“Why can’t I wear my own suit?” Andy called out from inside the bathroom of Quynh’s bedroom. She had silently marveled at absolutely everything about the other woman’s home. Quynh didn’t hold back on elegance and comfort but, just as her office, it surprised Andy with how genuinely serene and practical most of it felt, nothing exaggerated but just a very beautiful place to live. Quynh might play the part of a wealthy CEO, and she might have more power than Andy could imagine, but she remained an intriguing woman.

“Because your suit makes you look like a waiter, Andromache!”

Quynh was also, by Andy’s standards, a little shit.

In response, Andy made it a point to kick the bathroom door. “I said you can call me Andy,” she grumbled, fixing the collar of the very expensive, very unique suit Quynh had chosen for her to wear to whatever event the woman was dragging her to as a grand introduction to the woman she had secretly married during a romantic spur of the moment kind of situation, as they would tell the press.

“You are playing the role of my wife, Andromache, you will have to wear the best of the best I’ve ever designed!”

Sighing in defeat, Andy walked out of the bathroom, feeling personally attacked by the number of buttons her shirt simply didn’t have for her to cover the better part of her torso. However, she stopped in her tracks, a victim of a much more aggressive attack, the sight of Quynh’s exposed back as the woman just finished pulling up her backless red dress. There was a tattoo there that all at once made Andy thankful for her mostly open shirt since she started to feel a little too warm in her clothes.

“Oh,” Quynh sighed when she turned around and stared at Andy. Andy, who made herself believe Quynh was looking her up and down so intently just because she was studying the clothes she had created and already knew perfectly, except for how well they’d fit a tall, irritable, professional, and unfairly gorgeous type of soldier with earnest green eyes that made Quynh feel just a little unsteady on her feet. “You look good,” she finally added, purposefully looking away, very professionally.

“You too,” Andy nodded, looking the opposite way, very seriously too.

It would have been easy for any kind of onlooker to determine that both women were thinking the exact same thing. This job would be entirely much more difficult than they had anticipated.

There was a red carpet and a small army of photographers ahead of them. The unfamiliar territory made Andy uneasy, that’s why she was standing so goddamned tense, and not at all for the way Quynh was holding her arm and standing so close, getting ready to step into the spotlight.

“Why a movie?” Andy whispered, genuinely curious and also trying to distract the other woman from the big event ahead of them.

Quynh sighed and turned to look at her with a smile, “I’m a woman of many talents.”

“You produced this?” Andy frowned.

“I did,” Quynh grinned, stood taller, and tugged Andy forward, “Now hush, we are about to go out. Look pretty for the cameras, alright? Do you think you can smile?”

“No.”

Her blunt answer made Quynh laugh wholeheartedly. The result was both women stepping on the red carpet smiling much more genuinely than they would have expected.

All things considered, Andy thought she did a decent enough job playing a fake wife. Although she also tried to play undercover bodyguard and kept an eye out for any remote threat to Quynh’s safety, she could hardly keep her eyes off her own fake wife. She listened intently when Quynh talked about her job, and she smiled when Quynh talked about them. It was difficult to complain about any of it when Quynh looked at her with that perfect smile of hers. She held Quynh’s hand as often as possible too, for safety reasons, obviously.

Back in Quynh’s apartment, as both women got ready to sleep, they reflected on the events of the night. The premiere of a movie was an event completely new and strange for Andy, who entertained herself by sharing a constant commentary about everything around her. The cameras captured about a dozen shots of Andy whispering in Quynh's ear, while she laughed happily at whatever the taller woman was criticizing. Even during the movie, they talked to each other enough to be shushed by a stranger halfway through.

Sitting on her bed, Quynh wanted to be embarrassed by how easily she had grown comfortable with Andy, of how much she had enjoyed a little company. But her thoughts were interrupted by the same women they were filled with. Andy came out of Quynh’s bathroom looking almost completely normal, with sweatpants, a t-shirt, and holding her suit folded on her hands, but there was a gun lying on top of the suit. The sight of it was an unpleasant reminder of the one and only reason Andy had been there with Quynh the entire night.

“That was a nice first date,” Quynh smirked, trying to shove down the feeling of disappointment upon remembering she was paying Andy for all of this.

“It was fun,” Andy replied softly, a little distracted by the sight of Quynh sitting on her bed, wearing silk pajamas, and her hair a little messy. The reminder that they had failed to discuss sleeping arrangements startled Andy like a bucket of cold water falling on top of her. “I’ll take the couch,” she blurted out.

“Are you sure?” Quynh sent a small frown her way.

Andy, already starting to walk away, granted her a smile, “Yes, your couch is unnecessarily large, it’s almost a bed for two.”

��Andromache, is that an invitation?”

“Uh,” Andy turned hastily away from Quynh’s teasing smile, making a beeline for the couch and stumbling a little on her way, enough to drop her gun and whisper “Fuck,” while the beautiful woman making a mess of her thoughts only laughed at her a short distance away.

Andy had traveled in the best and worst planes the world had to offer, anything to get to a mission, even if it was at the end of the world. That didn’t mean she liked planes though. The private plane flying Quynh, her fake wife, and her team overseas was impressive, but wasn’t the exception. And, apparently, Andy wasn’t the only one that disliked it.

After Andy took her time making sure the plane and its staff were completely safe, they were getting ready for taking off when Quynh stood in front of Andy’s seat, pointed at the window seat beside her, and asked, “Can I sit there?”

Andy looked at her very seriously for a moment that would have been longer if she wanted to tease the woman that had been teasing her nonstop since they first met but, she noticed the genuine and unusual apprehension in the other woman’s face.

“Haven’t we been married for a full week already?” she answered with a playful smirk, “You don’t have to ask.” She nodded to the place beside her in invitation. There was a part of Andy’s brain overthinking why Quynh, who had known her only a week, would sit beside her, instead of literally next to anybody else in the entire plane filled with people she knew and trusted and had worked with for years. A matter of safety, purely logical and professional reasons, Andy’s mind decided, shutting off the insistent little questions that her mind had about every little thing Quynh did. The problem was, now Quynh’s hand was gripping the armrest between them, and it took everything in Andy not to reach out to her.

“I hate planes,” Quynh confessed, breaking the silence, “I mean, I’m a little fascinated by them but, it just doesn’t feel right to be so far away from the ground, you know?”

“I know,” Andy replied, doing an almost inhumane effort to keep her voice steady even though the plane was starting to move, “If it were up to me we’d still travel on horses.”

That got her a laugh from Quynh. “Okay, that might be going too far,” Quynh said, meeting her eyes for the briefest of moments. She looked down at her lap quickly though, afraid that the other woman would be able to read in her eyes the answer to the question Quynh couldn’t stop asking herself, Why did she feel the need to sit beside Andy?

However, then the plane was leaving the ground behind, and Andy was as tense as Quynh, her chest tight and her logical thoughts nowhere to be found. She reached out in instinct and, without any of them acknowledging it, they held hands tightly the entire time until they were well past the worst of it.

The rest of the trip ended up being uneventful, technically, even if Andy’s heart got little to no rest. She got to witness Quynh glued to her laptop and talking to members of her team, as busy as if the whole world depended on her, and as confident as if she could fit all of it in the palm of her hand. If that wasn’t enough to make Andy’s chest tighten in a whole new way, then she got to watch the adorable way in which Quynh fell asleep for the second half of the trip. Nose wrinkled and little sighs escaping her now and then. The only thing Andy was sure of was that she was in some serious trouble if Quynh didn’t stop being so perfect at everything she did.

When they arrived at their destination, Andy was taken by surprise when Quynh approached her with a shy smile. “I’m sorry, I must be terrible company,” she said, looking up at Andy.

“Not at all,” the taller woman replied sincerely. She was delighted to see Quynh’s smile grow but, when she took a step forward to leave the plane, Andy had to reach out and carefully grab her wrist, stopping her. “I should go first,” she said as an explanation.

“But the cameras,” Quynh frowned, apparently an expert at walking down from planes while being a famous woman, because of fashion, surely not because of her involvement with the CIA and company.

“I always go first,” Andy insisted, but managed a reassuring smile, “for your safety.”

Quynh sighed, accepting the logic. But then, the least she could do was help a little. She reached out and stole Andy’s sunglasses from where they hung by the collar of her black t-shirt. Then she gently put them on Andy’s face, smiling at the result and holding back from moving Andy’s hair off her forehead. Except, she failed at holding back, and her fingers did brush Andy’s hair away, sending electricity up both their bodies.

“Okay,” Andy mumbled, turning away and putting all her effort in not shaking as she walked to the door of the plane, where she was ambushed by flashing lights. She scowled at them, and surveyed the scene, careless of how odd she might look up there, until she remembered she did this for Quynh’s safety. Quynh. Quynh, who had an image to keep. So, Andy turned around and offered her hand to her wife, putting on a smile for her. Quynh was surprised, but didn’t hesitate with the offer and, as she descended from the plane, her smile was more than a little effortless.

The next days passed by flying. They were in America, and Andy expected their days to be filled with all the interviews and movies and fashion shows that are included with one half of Quynh’s life. And they were, all of those things happened, but there was so much more too.

In the most random of moments, without consulting anyone but Andy, Quynh would pull the two of them into a different room of the hotel they had checked into, or into a fancy restaurant as often as into an unassuming cafe. There, men in suits would be waiting for them, with questions, answers, new instructions, orders, apologies, or gratitude and respect for whatever Quynh had succeeded at pulling off secretly and while keeping up a whole different life too. A few times, they were men that had actually given jobs to Andy before, even Copley showed up at one point. Once, it was a man Andy had fought against, and it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable meeting any of them had experienced in their lives.

Surprisingly, the other things were more difficult. It was Andy’s job to make sure that movies’ premiers were safe and that no one dangerous could sneak into one of Quynh’s fashion shows. The death threats continued to come just as often, and Andy was getting closer to figuring them out, but she wasn’t there yet. In the meantime, she had to dress up following Quynhs instructions, she had to hold her hand in public, and she didn’t have to put too much effort in smiling whenever their eyes met.

It was mesmerizing, to say the least, watching Quynh work. She was professional, and passionate, a little too honest, but fun and caring and charismatic. She was talented and challenging and so outstandingly beautiful that it was getting increasingly difficult for Andy to deny she may or may not have accidentally caught feelings for her. The soldier attempted to cope by reminding Quynh, at every chance she got, that she didn’t want to be there, hated the fancy clothes, the cameras, and the pretending. The problem was, not all of it was pretending, and the few times Quynh let a little bit of hurt show because of Andy’s words, then Andy had to pretend she didn’t notice it.

There were some things Andy genuinely didn’t notice though. She hadn’t yet learned to see past Quynh’s teasing and humor and find the sincerity hiding under the surface. She still called her Andromache, not so much because she had asked to be called Andy, but because it was an excuse to say her name, to watch her reaction, to be the only one who called her that. When they were in public she called her “wife” as often as possible, not to play some part for the cameras, just because she loved to watch Andy blush. Andy, who was supposed to be an intimidating special soldier but lighted up like a kid whenever Quynh surprised her with the best pastries each city had to offer. Andy was hilariously uncomfortable with the fancy clothes, and adorably clumsy when talking to Quynh’s acquaintances, it never failed to make Quynh’s eyes go soft with endearment. And Andy had no way of knowing some of her clothes were things Quynh had stayed up late to design especially thinking of her.

Two moments stood out from the rest. Two times both women got maddingly close to absolute honesty, to crossing a beautiful line they were both dying to cross but stupidly waiting for the other one to take the final step.

First, there was one special interview in Vietnamese where Quynh felt so comfortable it was a little too easy for her to let down her guard. The interviewer, unsurprisingly, asked her about her unexpected marriage and her mysterious wife. Quynh gave the usual, prepared answer but, with a little bit more prompting, she kept talking.

“What I love about her? Everything of course. Um, the unexpected things, mostly. She makes me laugh like nobody else, mostly without even trying, I just like making fun of her,” Quynh laughed, and her eyes moved around the room for a moment, searching. She found Andy’s face, mostly inexpressive at the moment but still breathtaking, and the language barrier was enough to kick down the last of Quynh’s hesitation. “There’s more too. There’s no one like her, really. She… she’s beautiful, intelligent, so thoughtful, and inspiring, and… she makes me feel safe.”

The interviewer then asked her what she’d like to say to her wife, but Quynh almost didn’t hear him. She was too preoccupied with sudden panic burning inside her because, right at the last sentence she spoke, she stared again at Andy’s face, no longer expressionless, but quite the opposite. Eyes big, lips slightly parted, too many emotions, too much understanding. Quynh wanted to scream at herself for not thinking about the chances that the world’s best special agent would obviously happen to be fluent in a dozen languages that happened to include Vietnamese.

“I’d want to tell her, um,” Quynh stuttered, looking for the right words, the perfect fake smile and laugh to hide behind, “that I don’t completely regret our marriage.” She chuckled along with the interviewer, she went on with the interview, and not once she dared to look back at Andy again.

Then there was the second big moment, save for a hundred little moments, when Andy and Quynh’s little act of pretending was almost brought to a sudden ending. It was a special night after an extremely long and busy day, not just for Quynh, but also Andy, who was closer than ever to uncovering the source threatening Quynh. The result was Andy looking about ten times more exhausted than Quynh had ever seen her, dragging her feet across the hotel suite with her hair messy and bags under her eyes.

“Andromache,” Quynh called her from her place already in bed, “We can share the bed, you know?” She suggested, willing her voice to remain steady even under the stare of Andy’s green eyes filled with surprise. “I can tell you’re exhausted,” she managed a chuckle to lighten the situation, downplay her suggestion, hide her hope, “It’s not a big deal, come on.”

To her surprise and delight, Andy nodded once. The taller woman walked to the bed and nearly let herself fall face first on it, groaning in pleasure at the comfort of the bed and making Quynh laugh adoringly.

They got comfortable in the bed that was luckily big enough to not make it too difficult to keep their distance from each other. Andy was pretty much asleep already, her eyes closed, her features relaxed, and the filter in her mind basically nonexistent. When Quynh wished her a good night, she simply blurted out, “This has been my favorite mission ever.”

Andy’s voice was slurred and deep with sleep, making Quynh’s heart flutter pleasantly. “Why?” she asked with a smile, staring at the gorgeous woman on the other side of the bed. There was a great spark of excitement, adrenaline, and expectation for whatever Andy’s answer might reveal. But she couldn’t deny a sense of comfort, and peace, that covered them both at the moment. Andy could fall asleep without saying anything else at all, and still, it would be a moment Quynh would treasure forever.

“You know, being-” Andy was interrupted by a yawn, which she took as an opportunity to turn around in bed, giving her back to Quynh and finding the courage to finish her sentence before falling asleep. “Pretending to be madly in love with you, that’s easy enough to accomplish.”

Andy was asleep before she got to hear Quynh whisper her name a few moments later. She didn’t say anything else, but just by the way she pronounced her name, so tenderly, adoringly, softly, it would have been enough for anyone to figure out what her real feelings were.

Andy hated London. She’d had mostly bad experiences there and still, her dislike for the city was far from her biggest problems at the moment. She was backstage on one of Quynh’s fashion shows and she was scowling at everyone that dared look her way. Quynh was busy, and the models demanded a lot of her time, and Andy, who was totally not jealous of the way that a young and beautiful Nile Freeman who would be the star of the evening stole Quynh’s attention, was getting restless.

It was nearly time to begin the show when Andy managed to drag Quynh to an empty hallway and whisper, with possibly too much force, “We have a problem.”

“Yeah, she’s tall and pretty but she’s been scaring my models with her angry frown.”

In response, the aforementioned frown on Andy’s face deepened. “I told you. I’m almost there with figuring out who’s after you. If something happens tonight, which might happen, I’ll know for sure.”

“Well… great. Can I go now?”

“Quynh,” Andy insisted, “I mean it. Tonight’s dangerous.”

“There have been death threats on almost every city, tonight’s not different,” Quynh sighed gravely, didn’t roll her eyes, but her expression of boredom was enough to set off Andy’s temper.

Worst of all, Quynh tried to step away, which prompted Andy to reach out and hold her wrist to stop her. “I’m saying, I’m not letting you go out there,” Andy said with finality. She was still gentle as always, but there was a new urgency in her hold, it was just proof of Andy’s genuine worry but, at the moment, to Quynh, it looked just a little too aggressive. She frowned when she looked up at Andy.

“You cannot decide that for me, Andromache,” Quynh seethed, “You’re here to protect me if something goes wrong, and I expect you’ll do your job correctly. That’s it, that’s the only reason you’re here, and not to tell me what to do.”

After a short moment that felt like an eternity, Andy replied coldly, “You’re right. That’s the only reason I’m here. Just doing my job.”

It wasn’t until somebody else walked into the hallway to let Quynh know it was time to go, that both women realized how close they had been standing, how hard they were both breathing, how badly they had just hurt each other. Quynh glanced at her assistant and nodded, then she turned back quickly to look at Andy, an apology on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t get a chance. Andy had a perfectly cold expression on her face, the worst part being the fake smile on her lips.

“Good luck,” Andy whispered to her, then leaned in and kissed Quynh’s cheek. It was, by far, the worst thing she could have done to her right then. It was the first time she did it, and the fact that the small kiss was so cold, almost carrying venom with it, it broke Quynh’s heart more than she could have put into words.

Quynh had to leave Andy there, and she had to pretend she wasn’t on the verge of tears as the show started. It proved to be a good enough distraction, but it never quite took her mind off the hurt in Andy’s precious green eyes when she had brought up the purely-work-related argument on their discussion. Quynh thought it couldn’t have been worse, and then came the ending of the show. There she was standing alone on the runway, the models walking away, she was trying to smile for the cameras while the seat reserved for her wife on the first row was devastatingly empty. Andy had left, Quynh blamed herself and, for an instant, she didn’t think it could get worse.

Maybe it was the light, maybe there were tears in her eyes, but everything was a little bit blurry, and Quynh was completely caught off guard when a strong arm came around her shoulders, quickly pushed her down and away from where she had been standing. Then, there were shots. Quickly, one after another, loud, frightening. People started screaming, jumping out of their seats, and running, it was all chaos. However, from her safe place on the floor of the runaway and out of danger, Quynh couldn’t focus on any of it. How could she, when standing in front of her was Andy in all her glory, still holding a gun and staring a little too proudly at the lifeless body of the person that had been hired to kill Quynh, hired by someone Andy had already tracked down and ordered to take down while this all played out.

“Let’s go,” Andy said, offering her hand out to Quynh, and it all felt a little like a familiar dream.

The world was still going mad around them, but once again Andy was able to hold her hand firmly and pull her away from it all, pull her right back to the empty hallway where they almost broke each other’s hearts beyond mending. As soon as they were safe and alone, Quynh threw her arms around Andy, who eagerly reciprocated, holding her as closely as possible.

“I’m sorry,” Quynh mumbled again and again against Andy’s neck until they finally pulled back enough to look at each other like they were dying to do. Quynh still looked worried, but Andy’s face was a perfect reflection of joy.

“Don’t be,” Andy answered softly, daring to touch Quynh again, this time, placing her hand delicately against her cheek, and smiling when she felt the shorter woman lean into her touch. “We got him. Everything is fine now. You’re safe.”

Quynh sighed, “I said some things I regret.”

“It’s okay,” Andy promised, “I was paranoid, and overprotective. I’ve lost people I care about during missions before, but I can’t lose you…”

The earnest look in Andy’s eyes, her sweet words, her tender touch, it was all too much. Quynh didn’t trust words to express what she was feeling for the incredible woman standing right in front of her. As naturally as if she had done it for years and years, she leaned in, and she kissed Andromache, pouring all her feelings, everything she had been holding back for weeks, into that kiss.

Andy kissed her back with matching emotions, and when she pulled back, a small sigh escaped her. She glanced quickly at the chaos still going on beyond the end of the hallway and promptly ignored it all. She rested her forehead against Quynh’s and whispered, “There’s no one watching.” There was no need to act, to pretend, to do anything, or be anything beyond their truest selves.

“I know,” was all Quynh answered before pulling Andy down for another kiss.

After all the acting and all the pretending was done, letting down their guard and being honest with each other came really easily for Andy and Quynh. After her safety was restored, Quynh decided to take a small break. One of her jobs, under the spotlight, often required small breaks in some beautiful place. Her other job, under the weight of the entire world, often required her to maybe disappear for a little while. That’s how she found herself in a remote place, in a mostly isolated charming little house, sharing her bed, her life, and her heart, with Andy. They were starting to lose count of the days, just focused on enjoying and getting to know each other.

They were in bed, sitting side by side, their arms intertwined. Andy was finishing off whatever dessert she had brought from the kitchen back to bed with her. Quynh was teasing her for her sweet-tooth, complaining about leaving crumbs on their bed, and leaving little kisses on Andy’s shoulder.

After a while of silently holding each other, Andy broke the silence, humor obvious in her tone as she asked, “So, do I get to keep the job?”

Quynh laughed wholeheartedly and cuddled even closer. “My heart, I am not paying you for this,” she answered.

“Why not?” Andy scoffed, bringing them both to laughs, that eventually turned into kisses, that they wished would never stop.

Eventually though, Quynh pulled back, she looked lovingly at Andy and smiled. “Andromache, I did dream of you,” she confessed, “The day we met, I said-”

Andy couldn’t help but interrupt her with a kiss. She meant to say I know, I was there, I had the same dream, I was yours since before we met, I’ll be yours forever. She might say the words someday, but for the moment, she kissed her. She might confess she looked forward to maybe calling Quynh her wife again some day soon, for real, but, for the moment, she kissed Quynh with all the love she had in her, all the love she had for her.

#Merry Christmas!!! 🎄❤⚔#AndromaquynhSecretSanta #aw-hawkeye-no #the old guard #andy x quynh #andromaquynh #immortal wives #andromache the scythian #quynh #tog #the old guard fanfiction #my fic

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years

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Suga, Atsumu, Akaashi, and Sakusa saving their S/O from traffic

Hey anon! I normally only take 3 characters for headcanon requests, but I decided to just go ahead and do all four this time. Please make sure to read my rules before making requests 😊

Word count: ~2k

AN: I may have gone slightly overboard with Atsumu’s but y’know. This is my first time writing for Sakusa and Suga though!

part 1: Tsukishima, Kuroo, Osamu saving their S/O from traffic

SUGAWARA

⭐ So, you and Suga have known each other for years

⭐ After all, you were Asahi’s younger sister

⭐ Both Suga and Daichi were very familiar with you

⭐ It was not surprise that after knowing you for so long, Suga caught feels

⭐ Suga liked that you had the same gentle temperament as your brother BUT you weren’t as “cowardly”

⭐ He enjoyed whenever you let loose and indulged in your wild side

⭐ Of course, the only people in the group who realised Suga had a crush were Kiyoko and Daichi

⭐ You and Asahi were hella oblivious I swear LMAO

⭐ Anyways, eventually Asahi catches Daichi and Suga talking and he’s like OMG SUGA HAS A THING FOR (NAME)???

⭐ But at the end of the day, he’s like, well Suga’s a nice guy

⭐ Of course, you and your brother were super close too!

⭐ Later that night, you end up accidentally confiding in your brother that you also had a thing for Suga

⭐ Leading to Asahi confessing for Suga that very moment

⭐ The next day at school, you go out of your way to avoid Suga because omg my crush LIKES ME BACK?!

⭐ Suga’s super sad and is like, why are they doing this?

⭐ Asahi’s awkwardly scratching his neck and is like, I may have said something

⭐ SO, Suga finds you at your house later that night, asks you out, and you’ve been dating ever since

⭐ At the time of the incident !

⭐ You join the rest of the third-years in going to the shrine for new years

⭐ By now, you and Suga have already been going strong for over a year

⭐ As you reach the bottom of the steps, a biker is speeding past

⭐ They all react simultaneously

⭐ Asahi is frozen, his heart is beating so loud he swears everyone could hear it

⭐ Daichi is lunging forward, ready to use his defensive volleyball skills to do something (though idk what would have helped in this situation)

⭐ Kiyoko’s eyes are wide

⭐ But Suga!! man is moving at lightning speed

⭐ Like he is on a MISSION and that is to protect the love of his life!

⭐ He grabs you by the waist, hoisting you back up onto the steps and pressing you against him

⭐ You blink, confused until you hear the biker ringing his bell, shouting apologies as he speeds along the path

⭐ “Y’know, that would’ve sucked to start the new year off like that” you chuckle, looking up at Suga

⭐ He chuckles too, nodding as he brushes your hair back

⭐ Pulling you up, y’all face the third years as they unfreeze and make their way towards you

⭐ (Name)!” -Asahi

⭐ “Suga!” -Daichi

⭐ “Are you guys okay?” -the goddess Kiyoko

⭐ After breathing a sigh of relief, Asahi’s doing that little clap thing he does when Nishinoya receives his serves in the commercial break

⭐ Asahi’s giving him that look that says “i owe you everything. you have saved her life. i give you my permission to marry her”

⭐ Suga’s just laughing and is like “i would’ve done that with or without your permission 💝 ”

ATSUMU

⭐ Honestly, this was an enemies-to-lovers, slow-burn situation

⭐ You were in the same friend groups after playing at the club together as children

⭐ He was hella STINGY! he did not like that you were a setter AND that Osamu would ask you to set for him sometimes out of spite

⭐ Anyways, that rivalry continued up until high-school

⭐ Unfortunately, right before high-school starts, you suffer from a critical injury and had to quit volleyball

⭐ Atsumu felt bad about it

⭐ Like though he saw you as a rival, it just wasn’t fair that you had to quit so early

⭐ SO! He offers you the next best thing

⭐ Being his manager!

⭐ You laughed in his face the first few times he offered because you’re like, are you just being petty right now?

⭐ But after a while (and after he’s asked you like 20 times) you finally accept the offer

⭐ Now that you guys are no longer rivals, and you’re around each other all the time, Atsumu is like wait a second, you’re kinda attractive

⭐ AND the fact that you talk volleyball to him!

⭐ You were roped into his late practices more often than he’d care to admit

⭐ Of course, as manager (and ex-rival), you’d give him tips on how to improve his serves and setting

⭐ At first, he was kinda salty when you gave him advice and kicked him out of the gym

⭐ But eventually (aka, after Osamu kicked his ass), he realised that you were doing it out of care!

⭐ Thus, he spiraled into full-on affection for you

⭐ On your end, you didn’t really care about Atsumu

⭐ You thought the rivalry was stupid

⭐ And like, the boy bullied you!! Because his twin liked how you set!

⭐ But after you stopped playing, you realised that he was just a dummy who lived-and-breathed volleyball

⭐ Proven by the early mornings and late nights at the gym

⭐ Eventually, his passion sparked something inside of you

⭐ Like although you couldn’t play anymore, it was really nice seeing this passion and it made you care more about the team

⭐ This translated into more hangouts with the team, and eventually Atsumu just hits you up out of nowhere like “we’re always together”

⭐ You: Yes and?

⭐ Atsumu: We might as well date?

⭐ You: LOL! ...sure

⭐ And that’s how y’all start dating!

⭐ AT THE TIME OF THE INCIDENT

⭐ you’re on-campus ridiculously early, waiting for the bus that’ll take you to Tokyo for nationals

⭐ Mid-yawn, you’re complaining about how a POWER HOUSE school has to take the bus all the way there

⭐ “Like, we’re the favorites to win!”

⭐ (you just hate being awake before the sun is)

⭐ The bus is arriving, and you step down off the curb to walk around the bus and start loading your stuf

⭐ Of course, Atsumu is ALSO dead tired and his brain short-circuits, thinking the bus is about to hit you

⭐ SO, he’s sprinting at you, throwing his food onto the ground (osamu is screeching behind him)

⭐ You turn, confused when a muscular body slams into you

⭐ Y’all both tumble down onto the concrete and you’re just like, Atsumu I’m going to kill you

⭐ Osamu is just like, not if I kill him first!

⭐ Atsumu’s just like, but! The bus! Was about to hit you?

⭐ Kita’s face-palming and is just like, the bus literally stopped 30 feet away from them

⭐ Suna’s cackling while he records this mess

⭐ Your boyfriend’s blushing and is just like, “well maybe I just wanted to be a hero for my boo”

⭐ NGL, it would’ve been sweet EXCEPT he crushed the bag of snacks you’d packed so you were pretty peeved

⭐ Leading to a sulking Atsumu

⭐ Once y’all are on the bus, you lean over and give him a kiss

⭐ He short-circuits again. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

⭐ You shake your head, “a little, but I can’t just refuse to give my hero his reward, right?”

⭐ Atsumu’s heart swells and he’s promising himself to always be your hero

AKAASHI

⭐ Alright, so y’all weren’t dating yet!

⭐ Nah, you were just a Fukurodani manager-in-training

⭐ But TBH, Akaashi had the biggest crush on you

⭐ He liked how responsible you were, and how you weren’t really overbearing and obnoxious like the other managers (and his captain but y’know)

⭐ Since he was the vice captain, the other managers trusted him to show you the ropes

⭐ (they’d also noticed the way y’all looked at each other and was tryna make their ship sail!)

⭐ ANYWAYS

⭐ This happens during that first two-weeked Tokyo training camp where Kageyama and Hinata are running late

⭐ SO, Akaashi and you had gone outside to get some fresh air and just to get away from the chaos of the team

⭐ Bokuto and Kuroo were both tryna rope him into some shenanigans, so you benevolently bailed him out and brought him outside to help you fill the bottles

⭐ Cue side-eyes and winks from the other managers to you both

⭐ Just as you’re making small talk, a screeching sound interrupts the conversation

⭐ WHOOP THERE’S SAEKO!

⭐ She barely manages to brake in front of you

⭐ But sweet Akaashi had already pulled you back into him, his back facing the car just in case he wasn’t fast enough

⭐ “Are you ok?” he asks, leaning back to scan your features

⭐ You nod, sheepish

⭐ Akaashi turns back to the driver, eyebrows raised

⭐ Saeko gets out of the car, apologising intensively

⭐ Of course, Hinata literally pukes when he gets out because he’s overwhelmed with everything that’s happened

⭐ Kageyama is like, uhm, can I just go play volleyball now pls?

⭐ After numerous apologies, Akaashi points them towards the gym and spirits you away to a bench

⭐ He keeps giving you water, an unreadable expression on his face

⭐ “Uhm, Akaashi? Are you ok?”

⭐ Akaashi just SIGHS, nodding

⭐ He fixes you with a hard stare, a slight tremour in his voice. “I’m sorry, (Name). I just...I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you”

⭐ You tilt your head. “I mean, I doubt that I would’ve died from that”

⭐ Akaashi chuckles, shaking his head slightly as he slots your fingers together. He squeezes your hand.

⭐ “Yeah, but my heart would have”

⭐ Y’all both get flusterd as heck!

⭐ Like, was that a CONFESSION?!

⭐ Turning back to ask, you get the answer in the form of him kissing your cheek

⭐ Akaashi short-circuits. You short-circuit. Did that really just happen?!

⭐ “So..does that mean we’re together or..”

⭐ And before Akaashi can respond, the rest of Fukurodani appears!

⭐ They heard what happened from Hinata (who cannot keep his mouth shut I swear)

⭐ As you’re both swarmed, you peek at Akaashi

⭐ Over the noise, he gives you a small smile, nodding

⭐ Your hearts are warm! Like finally!!

SAKUSA

⭐ TBH, I feel like Sakusa wouldn’t really care to find a partner

⭐ UNLESS, it is someone he grew up with and is very familiar with

⭐ So! Enter, Komori’s best friend

⭐ Sakusa and Komori were always together

⭐ You and Komori were always together

⭐ This made it very easy for you to get close to Sakusa!

⭐ He liked that you respected his space and desire for cleanliness

⭐ You always went out of your way to carry around extra face masks, wipes, and santisier just in case people got too close to him (and you)

⭐ Sakusa wouldn’t have made the first move though

⭐ UNLESS! He realised he was about to lose you

⭐ Which almost happened

⭐ You ended up not hanging out with the duo as much because of a school assignment

⭐ Coincidentally, Sakusa overheard one of his teammates talking about you and the other dude

⭐ The other dude had the biggest crush on you, and was going to ask you out after y’all were finished with the project

⭐ Of course, Sakusa was just like absolutely not

⭐ Right after practice, Sakusa went to go look for you only to find you walknig towards the gym

⭐ “Oh hey Sakusa!”

⭐ “Call me Kiyoomi”

⭐ “Ok Kiyoo- wait what?!”

⭐ Your eyes went wide

⭐ His heart stuttered, why were you so cute?!

⭐ “I mean, you would call your boyfriend by his first name, right?”

⭐ “B-boyfriend?!?!”

⭐ Komori appears, throwing his arm over your shoulder to Sakusa’s disgust. “I think this is how Sakusa’s tryna confess to you, (Name)”

⭐ Sakusa just nods stiffly, pulling out some wipes

⭐ Heat sweeps over you as you awkwardly nod, “oh! Sure, Kiyoomi”

⭐ Sakusa was grateful that the mask covered his face because boy was BLUSHING

⭐ SO! At the time of the incident~

⭐ You had gone with Sakusa to the training center for the Tokyo Training Camp

⭐ Komori had already gone without y’all

⭐ You were from around the area, and were going to go visit your family for the week

⭐ (It was also a chance for you to introduce Sakusa to your family after he finished up with the training camp)

⭐ Anyways, you’d just dropped Sakusa off, waving goodbye to him as you turn to walk off

⭐ There was a loud honking noise

⭐ Some dude was trying to park and was being SO RUDE to you as you were walking through the lot

⭐ You turn to face the car, only to have your arm yanked out of its socket as someone leads you away

⭐ “Whah?!”

⭐ Your eyes follow the arm, finding Sakusa on the other end

⭐ “Weren’t you supposed to be warming up?!”

⭐ “You forgot something”

⭐ He finally stops as you reach the sidewalk

⭐ Your brows furrow. “What did I forget?”

⭐ Suddenly pulling his mask down, he presses a kiss to your forehead

⭐ “That”

⭐ Whirling around, Sakusa stalks back to the training center, blushing brightly as he realises what he had done

⭐ Your hand is touching the spot where he’d kissed you, your heart beating fast

⭐ “Holy cr*p” you whisper

⭐ “oh my god” Sakusa mutters

⭐ “Why are you blushing?”

⭐ “Shut up Komori”

general taglist: @scrappydaisies @newfriendjen @kyomihann

Please contact me if you would like to be a part of my general taglist! 💞 Check out this link for information about my taglists.

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janisarkisian · 4 years

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Hey if you're interested in prompts I have one for toh. How about amity being jealous? I love your storys. Keep it up 😁

so im like rly sorry this took FOREVER but i had writer’s block and school and also a tumblr break somewhere in there but here it finally is lol

Word Count: 1,439

“Hey Willow, do you know the answer to number seven?” Luz asked, and Amity held back the urge to growl.

“No, this one’s hard even for me,” Willow responded, giggling.

“I know the answer to number-” Amity started.

“Oh! It’s the potions track!” Willow interrupted her, for the third time that day.

Feeling her face go completely red, it was hard not to yell at Willow. They had been doing homework together, in the library, and Amity had known the answer to every problem so far. Luz had needed help on three, and Willow seemed to be stealing her chance to talk to Luz every single time. To put it simply, she was jealous.

She tried telling herself that Luz did not like her the way she liked her. Luz seemed to like her only as a friend, but Amity was in denial. She wasn’t ready to fully accept it yet. Plus, Luz would have to leave the human world in less than a month, so there was no chance for a relationship to last. It was best if they remained friends.

Still, every part of her was attracted to Luz Noceda.

“Are you okay, Amity?” A voice shook her from her thoughts. Looking up, she saw it was Luz talking to her.

Her face going scarlet, Amity practically fell on her words, “Oh, yep! I’m totally fine. Everything’s fine here. I mean, with me. Yes, everything’s fine with me. Hahaha. Why would things not be fine with me?” Somehow, when she finished talking, she was leaning on the table weirdly and couldn’t have been any more obvious about it. How could Luz not see?

Or maybe, she did see. Maybe, she saw and didn’t care.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Willow looking at her oddly. Expecting her to talk, Amity inwardly cringed, but Willow remained silent. Still, Amity could never forget the look of contemplation, and at that moment, Amity became certain that Willow knew about her crush on Luz.

***

Later that day, Amity was sitting on her bed, trying to concentrate on an assignment for abomination class. It was hard to focus though because Luz kept invading her thoughts.

By now, Luz wasn’t even invading anymore. Luz had already captured her thoughts.

Just as she had started to think about (not for the first time) weather Amity Noceda or Luz Blight sounded better, she caught the twins staring at her, standing in her doorframe.

“What do you want?” She asked, and it came out harsher than intended.

Edric’s face went soft, then mischievous as he replied, “Nothing, dearest sister.”

She shot him the come-on-tell-me-what’s-up-face and Emira spoke up. “We want nothing. It’s what Luz wants.”

Amity felt a rapid blush crawl up her neck, and her heart was beating louder than Hexside’s Percussion section. “Luz? Luz is here, like right now?” She asked the twins in dismay.

“Heyyyyyyy Amity!” Luz popped out from where near Edric had been standing. Amity thought she might faint. Luz was standing right in front of her, in her own home. Not to mention her parents probably had to let her in. Her thoughts were a rush as Luz sat down on the bed next to her.

“We’ll just give you guys some space,” Edric emphasized the word space, trying to make it clear he knew Amity’s feelings. But did he want Luz to know? Or could he possibly be hinting to Luz? Did Luz like her?

Luz appeared unfazed and finally spoke, “You seemed a little upset earlier. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

This was what it was about? She hadn’t been fine earlier, and what was practically rejection still stung a little, but for the most part, she was fine.

But there was no way she could tell Luz the fact that it still stung a little. “Oh yeah, I’m fine,” She responded, trying to show no particular emotion.

“Are you sure? Because I didn’t come out here to talk for nothing,” Luz pushed.

There was so much she wanted to tell Luz. She wanted to tell her everything that she felt when she was with her. How her stomach felt like it was in her throat, and the words never really came out right. How Luz made her pulse flutter like thousands of butterflies were flying around. How when Luz was around, she never failed to smile. How when Luz was around she felt like she was flying, and it was just them, and nothing else mattered.

But there was no way she was going to tell Luz all that.

A few seconds later, Luz’s face lit up, and Amity immediately recognized the thoughts running through her head. She had seen it many times at book club. Mainly when they started talking about Azura and Hecate. Luz was wearing her fangirl face, plain and simple.

“Is this about your crush?” She asked brightly, eyes wide.

“What? No.” Amity responded quickly.

“Oh my gosh yes! This totally is about your crush, spill the tea.” She went silent, looking at her hands, probably blushing like she always was. Or, how she always was when Luz was around.

Luz seemed to notice she was uncomfortable with the question and tried to fix it, “Amity, look. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me who they are. Will you please tell me about them though? It’s okay if you don’t want to, I mean I don’t want to be like the person who pushes you to do things, sorry.”

She took a deep breath. Luz wasn’t asking who she liked, just wanted her to describe them. Truthfully, she desperately wanted to tell someone about Luz, even if it was Luz herself. “Okay.”

“So, um about my crush,” Amity started, “Well, they’re brave. Really brave. They aren’t afraid to stand up to someone if they’re wrong or doing the wrong thing. Sometimes, they stand up to bullies for other people, just because they don’t want to see their friends getting hurt. And they’re so funny. I mean, on Grom night, they told me so many jokes I was smiling so hard. And whenever they’re with me, I can’t seem to stop thinking about how pretty their deep brown eyes are. And they’re courageous. I know that’s kind of the same thing as brave, but the word just feels right. They once did something so brave for me that I want to call it courageous, simply because it sounds fancier. Anyways, they’re a really, really great person.

“Wow Amity,” Luz said after a few seconds of them sitting in silence, “They sound like an awesome person. Whoever they are, they would be lucky to have you.”

They were sitting so close now. As they had been many times before. She had never had the guts to kiss Luz, though she thought about it every time they got close. Sometimes, she was thinking about it even when they weren’t close. Or even if she wasn’t with Luz at all.

Before she had time to digest the terrible decision she was about to make, Amity leaned forward a couple of inches and pecked Luz lightly on the lips.

Though the kiss was short and too quick for Luz to cooperate, Amity felt fireworks. She was tempted to lean back in, but she needed Luz’s reaction first.

Praying that Luz wasn’t mortified, she leaned back. Studying her face, she tried to get a read of Luz, but it was hopeless. Finally, Luz talked. “It was me? I’m the amazing person you were crushing on?”

If Luz wasn’t with her, Amity would have been convinced that she had a fever, but she knew that wasn’t the case. She was blushing redder than she ever had before. Honestly, she felt just about ready to pass out.

“Yeah.”

Luz took a deep breath and finally responded, “Wow.” They were both quiet for a moment, and Amity realized she was doomed. If Luz hadn’t done anything by now, there was no way Luz had feelings for her. It was hopeless.

All of a sudden, she saw Luz leaning forward. Before she knew it, their lips were colliding and Amity felt as if she were on fire. It was the best moment of her life, and even though her body was begging for air, she didn’t want to leave. She never wanted the seconds to stop.

Finally, when there was no oxygen left in her lungs, she pulled apart. She and Luz stared at each other for a few moments, but Luz spoke up, “Well Amity, I think you’re pretty great too.”

#toh #toh fics #amity blight #luz noceda #lumity #willow park #the owl house #edric blight #emira blight #mine #my fic #fanfic

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