#also that drowning seen as one of the best things I have written to date
Note
Chenford + other people’s POV witnessing how in love they are with each other
I hope you like this anon (I swear this is my last one for the night!)
Chenford + other people’s POV witnessing how in love they are with each other
Or 5 different people observing how in love Tim and Lucy are + Tim and Lucy realizing it.
You are in love, true love
Angela
Angela knew from the start that Lucy was different. She didn’t buy into Tim’s hard ass TO act. She challenged him from the beginning and pulled him right out of the dark trenches he was drowning in. Even when he was an absolute asshole to Lucy, she still managed to see the best in him somehow.
Angela thought for sure after Vegas and the whole UC op, they would get their heads out of their asses and admit they have feelings for each other but of course they didn’t and both of them denied it. And no matter how hard Angela pushed Tim, he remained stubborn. And of course there was Chris and Ashley.
But now..
Angela watches as they walk into the bar all wrapped up in each other. They were doing couples night tonight, something that Angela had established the minute she found out Tim and Lucy were together.
They make their way over to the table that Angela is sitting at and Lucy slides in grinning at her. Tim turns back to go to the bar to get them drinks while Angela turns to Lucy.
“You guys are pretty cozy.” She says and Lucy turns to look at Tim at the bar. Angela doesn’t miss her eyes going up and down his back.
She shrugs her shoulders before turning back to Angela a soft smile on her face. “Yeah I guess we are.” She says lightly. Angela smiles at her, she has seen Lucy happy, sad, terrified and angry. But she has never seen this look on her. She’s in love.
Angela doesn’t say anything more until Tim comes back sliding Lucy a beer and a tequila shot. She grins at him happily and gives him a small kiss before turning back to her drinks. Tim smiles at her too, a smile Angela has seen him wear around Lucy. It’s a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. It’s a good smile and Angela really hopes it stays there. She watches as Tim loops his arm around Lucy’s shoulder and pulls her close. It’s a subtle move but it’s there.
And now Angela’s sees it written all over Tim’s face. It’s been there for a long time but he’s not trying to hide it now.
He’s in love too.
Angela smiles to herself as her husband comes over and gives her a quick kiss. She cuddled up to him and watches as Tim places a soft kiss on the top of Lucy’s head. He catches Angela’s eyes and smiles at her.
She wants to tease him at how soft he is being but she doesn’t. She has time to do that later, for now she watches as her best friend watches his girlfriend with nothing but love in his eyes.
***
Grey
Grey knew from the start that pairing up Bradford and Chen would be a good thing. He knew Bradford was rough around the edges and had a few dark moments. He knew he was a tough TO, and he expected nothing but the best from his Rookies.
But he also knew that Lucy Chen was different from the start. She was sunshine personified. She tried to see the good in everyone and the included Tim.
They had been through the ringer to get where they were today. Tim went through his stuff with Isabel, and Lucy was kidnapped and almost died at the hands of Caleb. They dated other people, and wrestled with their feelings for each other. They sacrificed for each other. Hell Tim took a desk job for Lucy. And Lucy managed to get him a place in metro something Grey was still trying to figure out.
But in the end…
In the end they were exactly where Grey knew they were suppose to be. He watches them from his office. They weren’t touching each other they did a pretty good job of keeping it professional at work.
(Or they tried to Grey had walked by Tim’s office a few times and heard.. stuff).
But they were looking at each other with looks Grey knew they only reserved for each other. He watches as they say something to each other. Lucy smiles at Tim nodding her head. Tim places his hand on the small of her back for a few seconds and then they walk off in separate directions. He knows it’s not much of a change from before but it’s enough for him to know one thing.
They love each other.
He thinks they have loved each other for a while now, maybe even before they got together. But it’s written all over their faces now, it’s in their actions and their subtle touches. They are in love with each other.
And Grey knew they both deserved it, after everything they had been through they had found love and solace in each other.
***
Tamara
Tamara knew Lucy and Tim were close. It was the kind of close that if you didn’t know them you would think they were a couple. Tamara knew better though she knew they were just friends that slipped into something more along the way. They were drawn to each other, even when they were with other people they somehow made their way towards each other.
She knew that when she caught them kissing it was more than just for work. And no matter how many times they (both) tried to deny it Tamara just knew.
And she knows it now..
She watches as Tim and Lucy stand in line to order their dinner. Tamara sits back in her seat and observes them. Lucy has her arm looped in Tim’s arm and is pointing at something on the menu. Tim makes a face and Lucy slaps him playfully on the chest. They do this around the apartment too, and as much as Tamara acts like she hates it. She finds it pretty cute, she finds this softer side of Tim is nice. It’s refreshing really. But she supposes that this is the side that Lucy sees all the time.
She watches as they get up to the counter and Lucy orders. Tim stands behind her his hand on the small of her back. When she’s done ordering, he comes to front to pay. She tries to protest but he shakes his head at her firmly.
Tamara grins as Lucy rolls her eyes at him and then reaches up to kiss him on the cheek.
It’s love.
Tamara knows this for a fact, she had been around with Chris and Lucy. Chris was fine but he was kind of whiny and he made Lucy pay every other time. And Lucy never looked at him the way she looks at Tim. She looked at Chris, like she was attracted to him but that’s it. She looks at Tim like she could burst at the seams because she’s so in love.
Tim looks at her the same way, with love and trust in his eyes. It’s nice to see them both this happy and in love.
(Sometimes she just wishes they wouldn’t do it on the couch).
But she gets it a love like this only comes around once in a blue moon. And she knows Tim and Lucy are forever. And she couldn’t be happier for them.
Nolan
Nolan has seen Lucy at her best and at her worst. Hell he’s seen Tim at his worst and he knows that Lucy went through Tim’s worst with him. He knows Lucy is a great person and one of his closest friends. Even if they don’t hang out as much anymore he still values their friendship.
He knows Lucy has been through a lot especially after Caleb and he saw how her relationship with Tim just evolved after that. They were somewhat more reluctant friends at first (more on Tim’s part than Lucy’s) but as time went on he saw their relationship become more of a friendship and then it was just them.
And now…
He has to admit that he was the last to find out about their new relationship. Even Bailey figured it out before him, but he honestly cannot say he is surprised at their change of status. He knew that they would eventually end up with each other no matter how long it took. He watches them from across the bullpen. Tim is in his metro uniform while Lucy has already changed out for the day. Her hair cascades down her back, and he’s leading her out the door his fingers brushing through her hair gently. He watches as they stop just before the door. Lucy doesn’t bother to look around she just presses herself against Tim and kisses him.
Lucy was never one for PDA and neither was Tim so Nolan is surprised at her actions and he’s equally surprised when Tim responds just as eagerly. Nolan watches as Lucy takes a step back and turns towards the door waving at Tim as she does.
Wow he thinks they are in love.
It’s something that even Nolan realizes. He may be oblivious some of the time (most of the time) but he can see it all over their faces.
He sees Tim head back towards the bullpen and Nolan busies himself with some paperwork on the desk.
Tim walks right passed paying him no mind, he has a pep in his step that Nolan had never seen before.
He is happy, Nolan thinks as he watches Tim’s retreating back round the corner to his office. And 100% in love with Lucy Chen
***
Isabel
Isabel sits in her car and watches as Tim and Lucy get out of Tim’s truck and make their way to the restaurant. They are walking side by side and their hands are brushing each others. She watches as Tim finally grabs Lucy’s hand and she giggles a little bit. He smiles at her looking her so softly and so intently that Isabel has to look away for a minute.
She watches as Tim holds the door open for her, his face still soft. And the thing is Tim used to look at her with love and tenderness. But he had never looked at her the way he is looking at Lucy, like she is the only girl in the world and like she holds his heart. She never thought Tim could love someone that much.
But Lucy is different after all.
She knows they are in love she had seen it the minute she walked into Lucy’s apartment that day. She had heard it in his voice while they were talking in the truck. She knew what Tim looks like when he’s in love, and he was absolutely in love with Lucy. Isabel gets out of her car and heads up to the restaurant. She spots Tim and Lucy right away and they wave her over.
“Hey.” Says Tim smiling at her. “It’s good to see you again.” Isabel smiles at him and then at Lucy.
They are sitting at a booth so Tim is sitting next to Lucy who is leaning on him just a little bit. She straightens up when Isabel slides in, and she sees Tim’s hand slide so it’s on Lucy’s knee.
“It’s nice to see you too.” Isabel says. “Thanks for an inviting me.” Tim nods at her and Lucy smiles.
They have nice conversations as they order and wait for their food. Once they have finished their dinner, Lucy excuses herself to go to the restroom. Tim watches her go a fond smile on his face before he turns back to Isabel.
“What?” He asks seeing the smile on her face and she can’t help but laugh.
“It’s nice seeing you happy.” She says and then adds: “I’m glad you found someone like Lucy.” He nods and Isabel realizes this could have been them. If she hadn’t fallen from grace. And ended up using drugs.
But Isabel doesn’t dwell on what could have been because she knows somehow it all worked out in the end. She got better and so did Tim and that’s all she could have ever wanted for him.
“You love her.” She says and Tim doesn’t looks surprised at her words. He runs his finger down Lucy’s water glass and turns to look at Isabel his eyes sparkling and light.
“I do. She’s..everything and more to me.” He says softly.
Isabel nods as Lucy comes back from the restroom, she slides back in next to Tim and she still leans on him as she does.
Isabel studies Lucy for a minute and comes to same conclusion she had with Tim.
She loves him.
Isabel is happy for them, and she’s happy Tim is getting his forever with Lucy. She knows he deserves that.
Tim and Lucy
Tim loves Lucy, he’s known that for awhile now. He loves when she wakes up before him (which is rare these days) and kisses him gently on the side of the head. He loves when he can hear her humming in the shower. He loves when he gets up and the coffee is already made. The list goes on and on. He loves discovering new things to love about her and he really hopes he never stops.
But the thing is….
Tim has never said those three little words to her. Not yet anyway, he wants it to be perfect because she deserves that. He thinks she loves him too and it’s almost like they are both waiting for the other to say it.
He stretches out in his chair, and then stands up so he can stretch his back. Just as he’s sitting back down the door opens and Lucy comes bouncing in. She’s carrying a bag which he assumes is his lunch.
“Hi baby.” She says excitedly putting the bag in front of him and then leaning over the desk to kiss him.
“Hi.” He says softly pulling her in for another kiss. “I could have met you for lunch.” She shrugs as she sits down.
“I wanted it to be just you and me.” She says leaning back in her seat. Tim smiles T her as he pulls the food out from the bag. It’s his favorite tacos.
He loves her so damn much.
He stares at her as she looks at her phone, she looks up for a second and frowns. “Do you not like your tacos?” She asks putting her phone away.
He stares at her some more and then his eyes flick to the tacos he hasn’t touched yet. “No! I love you- I mean them.” He says in a rush and her eyes widen and her mouth falls open.
“W-hat did y-you just say?” She stutters. Tim gulps because he can’t take it back now, not that he ever would.
“I love you.” He says. “A lot. I mean like a whole lot. I sound stupid right now but…” Lucy chokes out a sound between a laugh and a sob. She leans forward and kisses him hard, and then pulls back and bumps her nose to his. “I love you too.” She says. He leans into her as much as he can with a desk between them and nips at her lips, she loves him! She loves him!
***
Lucy knows she loves Tim and she also knows he loves her because he has told her a million and one times since the first day he said it. But she’s not sure she has loved him anymore than she has in the moment. And the thing is, he is in a hospital bed with a broken arm and broken ribs and her heart feels like it’s about to burst through her chest.
She loves him so much.
“You had me worried.” She says quietly a tear slipping down her cheek. He reaches up pushing some hair out of her face.
“I know baby. I’m sorry.” He says just as quietly. “I’m okay.”
She huffs out a breath. A broken arm and broken ribs weren’t her idea of okay. He must sense her thoughts because he raises up his broken arm. “Well as okay as I can be.” He says. She lets out a laugh sob. And just looks at him as if she’s studying him.
“I love you.” She says through her tears. “Fuck I love you.” She doesn’t know why she’s crying when he is the one in the hospital bed.
“I love you too baby. Now come here.” He says and he moves over only wincing a little. She crawls into bed with him and adjusts herself so she’s not hurting him. He puts his chin on top of her head and let’s out a sigh.
I love you.
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have you seen this 'would you still love me if i was a worm?' meme? what if s/o asked narrator that? please?
(...Have you ever written for a character you love, and written for them in such a way that you fall for them a bit harder? I think I just did that. Hope you weren't expecting a shitpost, anon. I just- whoooo- He did something to me, and I'm the one writing the damned piece.)
“Would you love me if I was a worm?”
“No.”
The narrator waits for a few seconds, then bursts out laughing. “Oh, oh dear, reader- I apologize. I couldn’t resist the temptation. Now listen,” he says, grabbing your hand gently.
“If you were a worm, I would cultivate the lushest garden for you to explore and thrive in. I’d give you all the care a worm needs, whether that be… Dirt, heat lamps, whatever you need.”
“The idea of suddenly being transformed into an insect is rather reminiscent of “The Metamorphosis”, by Kafka, is it not? A transformation that isn’t anyone’s fault… it’s a familiar story to many of us, thematically.” He clears his throat, realizing he got distracted.
“Now, my analysis skills are far above the average- Believe me, I know. I’m a writer, I know where the mark is. Allow me to wonder, for a moment, if there isn’t another question you’re trying to ask me underneath this one. I believe you may be trying to ask, ‘would you love me if something about me changed?’, which is a fair and worthy question to ask a partner.”
He keeps rambling on like this, not recognizing the meme.
“Allow me to assure you, then, that there are very few changes that would make me let you go. It’s your heart, reader, that counts for the most, not your appearance. If you were suddenly changed into a worm, but were still the lovely, kind being I know you are, then- Well, I wouldn’t date an insect, but I would still take care of you as best as I could. Because you deserve to be taken care of, even when unforeseen things happen.”
You’re starting to get really emotional about this.
“I can’t imagine you transforming into something or someone that isn't lovable in some way. I fell for you for a reason, after all. So even if something major happens, and you change, I would still very much love you as you are. I think at the end, that’s all that really matters.”
He chuckles. “A worm, really? That’s about as likely to happen as my love for you disappearing, which is to say- It won’t happen. I love you, my dear. Seasons will come and go, the tides will swing, but the way I feel for you is steadfast, an ever-fixed mark.”
You’re a blushing and emotional mess. You pull him closer. You’re going to drown him in affection, having spoken words like that.
(I don't know where the fuck this came from, but he got my heart doing flip flops like crazy today. FFFFFFF oh my god i'm so in love with him. It's totally canonical that he'd remain dedicated to a partner. How many loops have we run him through? How many years has he been telling this story? He's such an emotional person, and i'm willing to bet money that when he falls, he falls hard.
I love him so much, he's the best character ever. I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM! GOD!)
(also holy hell, I've written a lot today. that's odd. I don't know how long that will last before I get too tired, but until then...)
#the narrator x reader#the stanley parable#tsp narrator#tsp#headcanon#answered ask#stanley parable#narrator#tsp narrator x reader
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Please be warned before reading this, I have never written a piece of fan fiction before this is my first attempt! :]
Vlogs and Good New Things - One Shot
Their management had suggested it. Not Chrous, they were well out of the picture now. The lawyers made sure of that. Alliance Management. They had suggested after The Big Stage Shift - Angel had dubbed it that and Ruben and Zach had found it funny so it stuck - that the boys do some kind of no scripts, raw footage, behind-the-scenes videos of themselves as a sort of 'reintroduction' of their true persons.
Suggest. That was new, having management saying they could do something, but only if they wanted. Jon had been, and still was to a point, struggling with that. How could you know what you want when for your entire life, everything previously was chosen for you? Thankfully, everyone had been understanding about it. Including Angel. Especially Angel.
With Zach and Ruben out as a couple, they often went out, whether on dates or on talk-shows talking about being closeted, the music industry and being an open couple in a relatively popular boyband, so Jon and Angel had been hanging out together more. And wow, Jon didn't know Angel as well as he should have, being in such close proximity for that many years. He was learning so many things he should have known, such how he liked his tea (3/4 hot and 1/4 cold, so he didn't burn his tongue, his favourites were berry teas), whether he was a sweet, savoury, sour or bitter person (one million percent sweet, he was addicted to chocolate Jon was sure), that he wasn't actually super chaotic (he had quite a few calm moments too, he was only half chaotic and feral), and where he really wanted to go in Europe. The British Museum. He had seen the memes and wanted to look around the 'Thieve's Treasure Trove'.
Angel and Ruben had the idea of their first vlog-thing. Clothes Shopping For Clothes We Actually Want ft Our Stylists. It was a big hit with everyone, fans loved seeing their actual styles show, and they loved starting to reclaim themselves as people. Ruben and Angel were also the ones who looked Zach and Jon in the eyes and asked if they actually wanted what they were looking at or if they were choosing what they thought the fans wanted from them and fit in their Chorus-made image. Needless to say, everyone finished that video with a wardrobe full of clothes that expressed themselves.
After that, Ruben had asked what they'd do with the old clothes, to which Angel had excitedly exclaimed 'BONFIRE!', Zach told him he didn't want to have to call the fire department today, and Jon had suggested they give them to charities which would give them to people who really needed them, 'like sane people'. He had said this last bit looking at Angel who had stuck his tongue out is response and called them all boring. Jon couldn't help but half-smile at that. Angel was always going to be a bit chaotic, it was for the better of everyone he was. Plus, they had had another bonfire that week, Jon had thought two in one week was a bit excessive.
Jon always remembered that day fondly. It was a good day. And, it was only the beginning. Many good days came after that.
But, what comes up must come down. With the good days, there were bad ones too. There were some days where Jon did not want to wear anything remotely form fitting or sheer, and wanted to drown himself in oversized, baggy clothes. He never wanted to go shirtless, ever. It didn't matter on the day. The answer was always no. The others always understood, they'd all said something along the lines of 'I get it' and 'your dad's an asshole', and Alliance was the most respectful you could ask for. Erin was the best at defending them from rude interviewers who kept pushing about it and being gross to him about it. None of those interviewers came back. Jon pretended to be surprised.
That was another good thing. Because during The Lawsuit War (another Angel named) Erin, Stephanie and the stylists - whose names they learnt were McKenzie, Sam, Amber and Lauren - quit their jobs and accepted contracts with Alliance, they could be in the bi-weekly videos and finally could gain some public recognition for all their work, which Jon thought was long overdue.
Jon felt all of everything happening now had helped him realise his dad was not a good person. It was hard, realising that his dad did not love him, only the money and fame, but he was grateful for everyone in his 'support system', which Angel called it. Jon was sure that no one would ever do anything like they had to them again.
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Synopsis: Sakusa could never have imagined he would die like this, and he definitely didn’t know he would love like this either
Warnings: this story includes graphic depictions of drowning, major character death (technically but not really)
W.C: 1.9k+ words
A/N: based off of this post that I made a while back and the fact that I really want to play dungeons and dragons. Also I really wanted to write that drowning scene and I spent three days on it.
This was beta read by @ramelanin Who is easily one of my favorite writers on this platform. Ramen I love you. Mwah <3
Sakusa struggles as he is pulled from the berth of the ship for the first time in weeks. The air is so salty he can taste it. It’s smell is strong, it's almost nauseating but he’d prefer the salty smell and taste of ocean air then the stagnant air of the sleeping quarters he’s been kept in since he’s been forced on the ship. His hands are bound tightly in heavy metal cuffs and the skin around them is an angry red color. Rubbed raw from how long they’ve been on him.
It happens quickly. Almost so quick that he doesn't realize what’s happening until he is falling several feet from the deck of the ship to the churning waves of the ocean below. His skin is bathed in warmth as he plummets. His screams muffled by the tape placed over his mouth, and for a second he wonders if this is what Icurus felt like when he fell. The warmth of the sun was soon replaced with the icy cold feeling of the waves encompassing his body. He tries to stay calm. Knows that if he panics he will drown that much quicker. So he tries to hold his breath. Kicks his legs in some futile attempt to swim or at least break the surface of the water.
His mass of curls float upwards as he continues to sink. The sea water stings his eyes but there is a dull pain in his chest that is so much worse.
Don't panic. Don’t Panic.
He repeats the words like a mantra in his head. But how can he not panic when he knows this is how he will die. His chest burns a searing white as he tries to focus on anything else. He lists off anything he can think of in an attempt to avoid the way his chest feels. It’s just so hard to do that with the way his lungs cry out for oxygen. Aching for something he cannot have.
Don’t panic. Don’t Panic.
The sun's rays twinkle down at him, tinted blue from the water and filtered through the floating strands of his hair.
Don’t Panic. Don’t Panic.
At this point his body is holding his breath on autopilot. The flame in his chest grows hotter and hotter the longer he lasts and he just wishes he could pass out from the pain. His body gives up. The need for air is so fierce that his body just relaxes. His shoulders drop, there is no more flailing or kicking or anything.
Don’t Panic. Don't Panic. Don’t pani-
Panic.
Panic because there is salty ocean water that he can feel fill the back of his throat. This is how he will die. He tries to sputter out whatever is there but it is no use. Not with the tape over his mouth. His vision warps, and the edges of it turn dark. So with his face turned up to the sky, sunlight twinkling through the water down past strands of his hair to him in a taunt, casting shadows over his face his vision goes black.
Sakusa wonders if he is dead. He attempts to open his eyes but he can’t even tell if he succeeds. His surroundings are dark and wet and cold. His body still encompassed in water. He must be dead, and for a second he lets his mind wonder if his body will ever be recovered, or if he’ll just decompose slowly amongst the fish and crustaceans. His mind does not linger on those thoughts long as he feels a hand caress his cheek. It is warm and comforting and he cannot help but lean in to the touch.
“It is such a shame to see such precious cargo tossed overboard.”
A voice chimes. He can't quite pinpoint what direction the voice is coming from and to his surprise it is not muffled or gargled by the water. Water. He is still surrounded by water….isn’t he? He must be, right? He can fee-. He can't feel anything. Not the cool water or his fingers flexing as he attempts to move them. All he can feel is the hand on his face. Don’t Panic, he finds him telling himself once again.
The hand on his face retreats and he cannot help the way he instinctually moves his face to chase after the touch. Eliciting a chuckle from whoever or whatever it is that is talking to him. He can’t remember the last time he had felt a touch as soft and warm as that one.
“Wouldn’t you like to get even with the people who did this to you?”
“Get even? You mean revenge?” Sakusa says and realizes that the tape is no longer over his mouth. He hears his own voice and just like the voice of whomever it is speaking he doesn't sound muffled or gargled by the water.
“Yes revenge. I mean…could you really be satisfied dying here?”
Sakusa takes a second to think, and in that second he is reminded of the burning in his chest. The way his vision warped and dimmed. In that second he feels just how scared he was. The way realizing he was going to die made him feel helpless. He hated feeling helpless.
“I don’t want to die here” Is the only answer he can muster up, voice shaky.
“Then open your eyes and take my hand”
Sakusa opens his eyes and is surprised when they are not met with an assault of salty ocean water. Instead standing in front of him eye to eye is the most ethereal person he has ever laid eyes on. Illuminated by what little sunlight reaches them. Their hand stretched outwards between the two of them. He takes in his surroundings. Pitch black. It is almost like the two of them are standing within the void. The only light is the one that shines above them. He tilts his head up and the sun stares down at him, filtered through water. Twinkling down at him the same way that it did when he was drowning. He flexes his fingers and his toes. Stiff, but at least he can feel them again.
He returns his attention to the person in front of him. Although, he isn’t sure if he can really call them a person. They are beautiful, yes. But, the sides of their face is speckled in scales reminiscent of a serpent and if he looks closely their eyes glow dimly. They wink at him and he is suddenly made aware of how hard he must have been staring at them.
“What will happen if I take your hand?”
“You won’t die. You’ll get that revenge I can tell you crave.”
“What do you get out of it?”
“I mean what does that matter? You said you don’t want to die here and I’m offering you a way not to.”
He stares down at the hand.
Just like that he’d be alive again. Just like that he could get even with the people who tried to kill him. So he takes a deep breath and shakes the outstretched hand. A bright yellow light emits from where both hands are latched together.
“You made the right decision” The voice says, and he doesn’t even have to see their face to know that there is a smile on it. He wonders what he just got himself into as the light from their joined hands dim.
“What now?” He asks as he gazes back up into dimly glowing eyes.
The person tilts their head, caresses his cheek. “Just one more thing and then you’ll never have to panic again.” The hand moves from his face to play with the soft strands of hair at the base of his neck.
He goes to ask another question. But, as this person’s palm comes in contact with the untouched skin at the base of his neck he is met with a searing white heat at the point of contact. His eyes widen and he goes to pull their hand away but the grip on the base of his neck persists.
“Don’t Panic.” They say. “Trust me.”
He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to not panic when the burning persists. How is he supposed to trust someone he has only just met?
“The sooner you relax the better it will feel.”
So he tries to relax. But, relaxing isn’t really possible when it feels like there is a piece of red hot metal being pressed into your skin. His vision warps and darkens and he passes out from the pain.
When Sakusa comes to, he finds himself coughing up water. A side effect of drowning he supposes. He checks his surroundings, and is surprised to see he is in a humble looking room. A bed, a nightstand with an oil lamp and pack of matches next to it, and a mirror across the room close to the door. Sakusa gets off of the bed, pushing the sheets aside and goes to look at himself in the mirror. He feels pins and needles in his feet but ignores the sensation.
He stands in front of the mirror. He looks okay for the most part. His hair is a mess and his eyes look as if he hasn't slept in a few days but that’s about it. He isn’t clad in the billowy white linen shirt and black trousers he died in. Instead, he stands in the mirror wearing a cream colored cotton shirt and brown trousers. His skin smells of salt and he could crave nothing more than a decent shower, or even a half-decent shower. He feels his stomach growl and sighs. Food. He’d need food first, then he could get a shower.
He takes a second to attempt to straighten out his appearance. He runs his hand through his hair a few times, and as he does that one of his fingers graze a rather tender spot on his neck. He turns his head ever so slightly and gently brushes his hair out of the way to get a better look, and there on his neck clear as day is a deep red circle of what looks like brambles with four overlapping diamonds in the middle. He touches it cautiously as he inspects it.
Just as he decides that the door to his room opens. He takes a cautionary step backwards and then he sees the same person from before. Just as ethereal and supernaturally beautiful as ever, although this time there are no serpentine scales adoring their face. No dimly glowing eyes and no long, pointed, sharp looking nails.
“Good you're finally awake! I thought you would be out for an entire week”
“You..you're the person from earlier”
“If by that you mean the person who kept you from dying then yes.”
“What did you do to me?”
“What is it with you and asking questions? We don’t have enough time to discuss all that. You’re probably hungry and there’s complimentary meal in the tavern downstairs if you’re stayin in the inn. So why don’t you stop asking questions and we get you some food instead?”
As if his stomach knows he's going to disagree it makes a noise in agreement, and he isn’t left with much room to refuse. “Fine. But, when we’re done you’ll explain everything to me.”
“We'll see about that. You’d think you’d just be happy you're alive.” They say with a roll of their eyes. “Let’s just go get some food into you and see what this little fishing port has to offer.”
Just like that Sakusa finds himself being led downstairs hand in hand with a person he has only really just met. But, he doesn't panic and instead wonders what he has gotten himself into.
#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x reader#sakusa x you#sakusa x y/n#haikyuu!!#sakusa angst#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#drowning#tw drowning#tw: drowning#morpho writes#I want to play Dungeons and dragons so badly#also that drowning seen as one of the best things I have written to date
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lay all your love on me
okay!! so this is my fic for @magpiencrow's 1.2k writing challenge.
this is based off of the song lay all your love on me, slowed, by putin
pairing: nikolai/reader
rating: general
tags: gn!reader w/ gn pronouns, fluff
summary: falling in love with nikolai lantsov told through several vignettes
or: mindless nikolai/reader fluff with a alina and ivan being little shits
warnings: right off the bat there's a nightmare about drowning in the ocean, and there's one (1) swear word at the end, but other than that, there's nothing
word count: 4.1k
read on ao3
constructive criticism, feedback, and reblogs are greatly appreciated !
I haven't written anything in a while, so i may be a bit rusty, but please enjoy :)
You were drowning, and also pretty damn sure you were going to die out here. Your lungs were on fire, screaming for air, but you couldn't emerge from the ocean for long enough to suck in a breath. Sure, your hand or head breached the surface every now and then, but a wave would come crashing down on you immediately after, destroying all your progress.
The undulating waves threw you around like a football - a very pathetic one, at that. As hard as you tried to fight the current, it still insisted on moving against you (stubborn bastard), so really you weren't going anywhere. Just pathetically bobbing around in the same pathetic place. You couldn't feel your limbs - the only thing you could feel was the agonising ache in your chest. It was as if your arms and legs had frozen over along with your will to live.
How easy it would be to just...
...let the ocean take you...
Suddenly, someone grabbed you by the wrist. You screamed, which was a mistake; immediately, salty seawater filled your mouth, making you gag and choke. Nevertheless, you valiantly tried to release yourself from whoever - whatever? - had their hold on you.
"Y/n, Y/n! Relax, darling, relax," a voice said, sounding out of breath. "It's me."
You whirled your head around. Sagging with relief, you gasped out the name of your saviour. "Nikolai."
"Yes. Yes, Y/n, my love, it's me. It's Nikolai," he soothed, running his hands over your wet hair.
"Nikolai," you breathed. "Nikola-" - a wave reared up on its hind legs, ready to come crashing down onto your friend, ready to take him away - "no, no, Nikolai, NO-!"
You startled, eyes flying open. You were shaking like a leaf. Were you cold, or was it just the adrenaline from the nightmare still making its course? You shook your head as if to rid your mind of the dream. It wasn't real. Nikolai had saved you that night. It was fine. It wasn't real.
But it could very well have been real, a traitorous voice in your mind whispered. Scowling, you cursed your pessimistic side. Even if a wave had separated you two, Nikolai would have fought tooth and nail to get to you again. You would have done the same. After all, you were childhood friends, and you knew better than anyone that Nikolai didn't let go of his loved ones so easily.
He hadn't wanted you to accompany him on his journey overseas as Sturmhond. You insisted otherwise, channeling some of Nikolai's stubbornness that had rubbed off on you. ("You're not getting rid of me that easily, idiot. So let me come, unless you want me to steal your kneecaps.").
A half-smile appeared on your face as you thought back to the memory. Slowly, you got up from your bed. Your blanket was draped over your shoulders. You slipped out of your cabin quietly, walking down the hallway until you found yourself in front of Nikolai's room. He stirred in his sleep when you entered. The door creaked slightly, but it didn't seem like his distress was because of the noise.
You sat on the edge of his bed. Nikolai, previously facing away, turned over to face you. His eyes were still screwed shut, eyebrows knitted together and an unhappy expression on his face. You frowned.
"Nikolai." you nudged him gently. "Wake up. You're okay, just wake up. It's just a dream."
He opened his eyes, blinking at you. "Y/n?"
"Hi," you said. A lock of golden hair fell over his forehead, and upon instinct, you reached to brush it away. He let you, not uttering any of his usual complaints.
"You were gone," he mumbled, undoubtedly referencing his nightmare. "I- I couldn't save you, and you were gone."
You shifted into a more comfortable position - your whole body was on the bed now, with your back against the headboard. He leaned his head against your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair. "It wasn't real. It's okay. You saved me - I'm not going anywhere, 'Lai."
"Me either," he agreed, wrapping his arms around your middle. A beat of silence. Then, "Thank you."
You were more than content to fall asleep like this. Even if it meant waking up with an ache in your neck. Judging from the way he was curled up, practically drinking in your presence, Nikolai felt the same way.
What a feeling it was to have found solace in Nikolai Lantsov, and to know he had found solace in you, too.
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
Nikolai's pov
Nikolai watched from the corner of the ballroom as you laughed at one of Ivan's jokes. One would say that he was scowling, but the Prince of Ravka didn't scowl. No - he was simply observing your conversation with the Heartrender with visible distaste. He was not scowling. And he was not jealous.
You and Ivan were smiling at each other, standing by the refreshments table, mouths moving quickly, the both of you obviously interested in whatever you were talking about. You threw your head back in a laugh. You looked gorgeous. Nikolai wanted to make you laugh like that - more than he wanted to admit.
The last straw was when Ivan lay a hand on your shoulder, and then snaked his arm around you. You didn't seem perturbed by his touch - no, actually, you leaned into it. He bent down to whisper something in your ear that made you duck your head in embarrassment and lightly hit his chest.
Nikolai's glare deepened, if that were even possible. Okay, fine, maybe he was jealous. Did he even have the right to be jealous, though? It wasn't as if he was dating you, as much as he'd like to be.
And oh boy, he'd like to be.
Suddenly, Alina appeared at his side, seemingly out of thin air. He flinched. "Alina."
The girl in question had a mischievous look in her eye. Her hands were clasped in front of her, the long, flowy sleeves of her dress falling just past her wrists. The bottom half of her gown was a sparkly gold, whereas the top half was a dark blue. The two colours faded into each other at the middle, creating a gradient effect. It was a beautiful dress. You had helped Alina pick it out yourself, if he remembered correctly.
"Hello, loverboy." she poked him in the side, grinning knowingly. "How's your crush on Y/n going for you?"
"I don't have a crush on them, Alina, for Saint's sake."
"Oh, is that so? You do seem... ah, what was the word... utterly whipped for them, contrary to what you just said," she said, tilting her head to the side, feigning innocence.
"Am not," he argued. "I-," Nikolai paused, taking notice of you and Ivan walking past a couple metres away. Unfortunately, you were too engrossed in your current conversation to notice him. His eyes lingered on you. He only looked away when you disappeared back into the throng of people.
Alina let out a triumphant 'ha!'.
He directed his attention back to her and glared. "Alina, I swear-,"
"Utterly. Whipped," she mouthed.
"I will behead you," he threatened.
She laughed. "In all seriousness, I really don't think Y/n and Ivan like each other like that," Alina said.
"Well, of course not," he agreed. "Y/n very clearly has eyes for me. I can't say I blame them - who could resist all this? Everyone's all over me, as I'm sure you've noticed."
Alina stared at him pointedly.
"Ah, except for you, of course. You seem to be the only one immune to my charm and charisma. An odd one, you are."
She rolled her eyes. "Why do I even bother," she groaned. "Just swear to me that you'll tell Y/n you like them soon. Within a week. Swear on... your dignity."
"My dignity?" Nikolai drawled.
"Yes, your dignity, because if you don't fess up soon, I'll have to tell Y/n about your crush on them myself," she grinned smugly, and darted off before Nikolai could retort.
He sighed. As he saw it, he had three options:
1. Blackmail Alina (because of course she wouldn't give in to simple bribery)
2. Get on his knees and beg Alina to not tell you of his massive crush (there! he admitted it; he had a massive crush on you! One that he'd been harbouring for just over a year now, too)
3. Listen to Alina, and confess on his own terms
All three were mortifying, and things he absolutely didn't want to do. However, the last was considerably easier to do, and came with the most benefits and the least consequences. You had already seen him through his most embarrassing moments (and he through yours) so even if you rejected him, the humiliation would be minimal.
And maybe he wanted to confess. And maybe there was hope that you liked him back. Nikolai wasn't stupid - he knew when people fancied him. He suspected you liked him back, but then again, that could've been wishful thinking, or maybe he was misreading the entire thing.
He didn't even understand why he was so jealous of the way Ivan and you had interacted. Before he had fallen heads over heels in love with you, his childhood best friend, people flirting with you hadn't been a problem. He'd encouraged it, even. But now, bitterness flared up inside of him every time he saw someone getting a bit too cozy with you.
In short, his feelings for you had completely destroyed his facade of smooth, suave, sexy Prince of Ravka. And it kind of terrified him how poorly he hid it.
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
Nikolai had been acting strange lately, and it was bothering you. You feared the worst - had he finally caught on to your crush? You thought you'd been subtle until Ivan had approached you at the most recent party. Apparently, the scowl on your face as you watched Nikolai flirt with the guests had been fierce enough to kill.
Ivan had given you (unsolicited) advice, telling you to be straightforward and direct. That was what he'd done with Fedyor, after all, and that had worked out well.
You were pacing around your room. Ivan was perched on your bed, watching you have a borderline nervous breakdown like one would watch the view.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Ivan?" you demanded. "I'm about to make a life or death decision, and you're enjoying it."
He chuckled. "I wouldn't call this a life or death decision, Y/n. If Nikolai rejects you, he rejects you, and it's his loss. If he reciprocates, good, and you'll be free to frolic in the meadows with him, all fine and dandy."
You stared at him, your expression communicating, "Did you really just say that?", very clearly.
"Okay, okay, fine, I'll be serious." Ivan relented. "Just tell him, Y/n. What's the worst that could happen?"
Just as you were about to respond - "Well, I don't know, what if he rejects me, things become eternally awkward between us, and our 10 year long friendship is ruined because I couldn't keep my mouth shut?" - someone knocked at the door. You opened it to find Nikolai waiting. His hair was perfectly styled, as always. He wore a dark turquoise suit jacket, and a simple white dress shirt underneath. The ghost of a smile appeared on your face; you had chosen the colour for him.
"Hi, Nikolai," you greeted.
"Hello," he said. "Come on a walk with me. It's a lovely day outside, and both of us have been dreadfully busy lately - we may not get another chance to spend time together, I'm afraid."
"Oh! Of course, just let me grab more suitable shoes- I'll be out in a minute- Ivan, move." You rummaged around your room in search of the sandals Nikolai had gifted you for your most recent birthday. Ivan flashed you a grin.
"Tell him!" he whispered as you ducked out the door.
You hoped you didn't seem too jittery as you took Nikolai's arm, even if your insides were filled with butterflies. He seemed deep in thought for the first few minutes of your walk. It wasn't until you were both outside that he finally spoke.
"I hope you don't mind me asking, Y/n, but what was Ivan doing in your room?" he asked.
The question caught you off guard. Why was he so concerned about you and Ivan? It wasn't as if-
Oh.
Oh.
"Nikolai, don't tell me- are you jealous?" you exclaimed.
"Just answer the question, Y/n," he grumbled, which was enough of an answer for you.
You laughed, only feeling a bit bad that you were so amused. Nikolai Lantsov, jealous. You found that incredibly funny. "Oh, I'm sorry for laughing," you apologised, even as another giggle escaped your mouth. "You don't have to worry, Ivan and I are strictly friends."
He didn't seem convinced. "But the two of you at the party a few days ago-,"
You cut him off. "Nikolai. I promise that there is nothing romantic going on with Ivan and I. And besides, I don't think I'm anywhere near his type."
"Ivan likes men, Nikolai," you supplied, sensing his confusion. "Honestly, you need to keep up with gossip - he and Fedyor have been going strong for nearly three months now."
"Oh," Nikolai said.
"Yeah, oh."
"And, uh, do you? Like men, I mean?"
You bit back another laugh. "Yes, I do. One man in particular, actually."
"Is that so? Care to clue me in on who this man is?"
"You."
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
Nikolai's pov
"You."
As soon as that single word came out of your mouth, Nikolai's brain short-circuited, and several alarms blared in his mind. ALERT! ALERT! THE PERSON YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH LIKES YOU BACK!
He was too stunned to speak, which was definitely a first. So, naturally, he didn't speak, but instead leaned in to kiss you. His lips brushed chastely against yours. A pause.
"I- I'm really sorry, Y/n, I should have asked beforehand-,"
"Nikolai." you took his face in your hands. "Shut up."
And then you kissed him, and if his brain had been short-circuiting before, this was a full blown system failure. Sparks flew inside of him, and he was acutely aware of you and you only. It was a wonderful feeling, one that he immediately missed when you pulled away.
"Wow," you said.
He grinned. "I'm that good of a kisser, huh?"
When usually you would come up with a witty response, you just smiled. It was a smile Nikolai was pretty sure he'd die to see again.
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
Falling in love with Nikolai had been a long process. Your simple crush developed into something deeper like a leaky faucet dripping - slowly, but steadily. And then the realisation that you were in love with him hit you like a tidal wave. Drowning you, consuming every inch of your being, but not necessarily in a bad way.
You came to your epiphany while laying awake in bed one night after a whole day spent with the esteemed King of Ravka. It was a wonder that you'd managed to spend a whole 10 hours or so in his company without getting fed up, Tamar had teased. He did annoy you - and had today - but you bullied him back plenty enough. It was easy being with him. Easier than you were used to.
You loved the way his eyes sparkled after correcting someone on their use of the word 'impossible'. Loved how he devoted himself to his country so selflessly. Loved how he smiled at you so genuinely and lovingly, even when you didn't have the energy to show your love in return after a bad day. Saints, you loved him so, so much, and you were so in love with him, too, and-
Holy shit. You were in love with Nikolai.
You were in love. With Nikolai.
A childish giggle bubbled up inside of you, and you sighed happily. What a feeling it was to be in love with the King of Ravka, even if he didn't know it yet.
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
You twirled a small flower around in your hands as you walked side by side with Nikolai, your shoulders brushing occasionally. The taller blades of grass tickled your ankles, and a gentle breeze weaved through your hair. The sun peeked out from behind a few clouds, warming your face.
Nikolai intertwined your fingers, sighing in content. He craned back his neck to meet the sunshine, eyes fluttering shut. He looked stunning, just standing there with his almost otherworldly beauty as light spilled over his fine features, highlighting every detail.
"I'm in love with you," you blurted suddenly. "I love you, and I'm also in love with you, so. Yeah. I'm in love with you, Nikolai Lantsov."
You gave yourself a mental round of applause for your eloquence and tact.
He blinked. "Oh." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face, turning into a full-fledged grin when he finally processed your words. "Oh. I'm... I'm in love with you, too, Y/n L/n."
You beamed back at him, and cupped his face in your hands. You gently ran your fingers against his cheeks, tracing a line down to the base of his chest. The fabric of his shirt was thin and soft, unlike the suffocating material his suits were made of. Lovingly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you close. Your heart fluttered. Saints, you adored Nikolai. More than you could put into words.
"I love you," you whispered. "I love you so much, so intensely that it consumes me, and I'm drowning in it. But instead of it being hard to breathe, it makes breathing easier. It makes everything easier."
You interrupted your little speech by kissing him, just because it felt appropriate, and continued. "I was so lost without you, Nikolai. I didn't realise it, because as I've proved time and time again, I'm more than capable of holding my own-" you smirked as he rolled his eyes at the jab to his overprotectiveness "-but I was. I was a boat lost at sea, floating around in the waves, with no destination and no goal except surviving. Then you came along, and gave me solace. You were my salvation. You and your endearingly stupid jokes and your wild yet grounded behaviour. You're my anchor, Nikolai."
He laughed, but not in the mean way. In the happy way.
"I would pay you back with a monologue of my own," he said. "but all I can think of right now is how perfect you are, and how much I want to kiss you."
Your smile widened, if that were even possible. You met him midway, lips connecting almost desperately. The only coherent thought running through your brain was 'Nikolai, Nikolai, Nikolai.'
Nikolai.
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
"That one looks like a dragon," you said, pointing out a lumpy cloud in the sky.
Nikolai tilted his head to the left. It was rather cute - he looked like a puppy, trying to figure out what its owner was saying. His right eyebrow curved in an upward arch (you still had no idea how he managed to raise a single eyebrow at a time), and he pouted slightly. Adorable.
"I don't see it," he deadpanned.
You sighed and shook your head, dismissing the cute puppy ideology. "Nevermind," you huffed. As hard as you tried to pretend you were upset with him, a smile teased at the corners of your mouth, anyway.
"I'm sorry, darling, but I really don't!" he exclaimed, flopping back into the picnic blanket you two had laid out. Really, it wasn't even a picnic blanket. It was just a blanket. The two of you hadn't had time to find a proper one before embarking on your impromptu picnic. Nikolai, ever the improviser, had then brandished a quilt from Saints knew where. You suspected it came from Vasily's room, because who else would be pompous enough to own a red velvet blanket the size of China?
You dramatically exhaled again. "I already said nevermind. Not all of us can be blessed with a creative vision such as mine, after all."
Nikolai laughed. And Saints, the sound was downright melodic. You didn't even want to begin thinking about all the things you'd do to hear it one more time.
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Eventually, he began stroking your palm with his callouses fingers. You bit back a smile, and linked your pinkies together. A gathering of clouds mostly covered the sun - enough to allow only a bit of warm, gold light to seep out. You wondered briefly how Nikolai looked right now, basking underneath the faint sunshine.
The answer came to you easily, even without looking at him: fucking beautiful.
However, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of staring at him. The last time he had caught you gaping at him like a lovesick fool, he had teased you endlessly. It was ridiculous. It wasn't as if he didn't stare at you. No, actually. He stared at you all the time. In fact, he was doing it right now.
You bit back a grin when you felt his eyes on you. But before you could tease him for it, he got up suddenly, offering you a hand.
"Come on," he urged. "Follow me."
"Where to?" you questioned curiously.
He smirked. Tugged on your hand. Winked. "You'll see."
"Right, that's not cryptic at all," you muttered.
Eventually, after a minute or so of walking (and plenty of you trying to weasel more information out of him) the two of you had seemed to reach your destination. A huge tree hung above you, offering its shade. You plopped down, but Nikolai remained standing.
Strangely, he was looking rather nervous. Repeatedly tugging at the collar of his beige button-up shirt, and kicking at the grass.
"Y/n, darling, don't just sit there, you're making me nervous," he whined.
You giggled, but stood up anyway. "I could say the same about you. What's on your mind, dear?"
He took a deep breath, and looked you dead in the eyes. "I love you, Y/n. I love you, and I'm in love with you. I always have, and always have been. It's just- you're wonderful. And intelligent. And charming. And I am so, so glad you are my partner - in the romantic sense, and the platonic sense. If I'm being honest, I'm quite sure I'd be tearing at the seams without you to sew me back together every time I do something particularly foolish.
And I hope you'll always be there to ground me. Because I will always be there for you. Th-there's no other way to say this, my darling, but I'd quite like to spend the rest of my life with you, so..."
He brandished a dark blue box from his back pocket (this probably wasn't the time, but you had to mention that you could never fit something that large in your pocket. Why did men's clothing always have bigger pockets?) and got down on one knee.
"Will you do me the honour of marrying me, Y/n?" he finished.
Holy fuck. Holy mother of Saints. Holy everything. Was this real? Saints. This really was real, wasn't it? Nikolai Lantsov was proposing to you.
A sob escaped from your throat, and you nodded frantically, not wanting him to think you were upset. "Yes," you said. "Saints, Nikolai, yes."
He smiled. You knew that he smiled a lot, but this smile was different. Usually, he just grinned or smirked in a devilish way - this was more of a beam. He looked so genuinely happy (genuinely happy, because of you!) that it made your heart soar, and you were pretty sure you fell in love with him all over again for the second time. You'd never get tired of it, though. Not when it came to Nikolai (Nikolai, your husband-to-be!). Never when it came to Nikolai.
You soon found yourself enveloped in a hug. He spun you around, both of you laughing (and crying). When he set you down, you could have sworn you saw his eyes welling up.
"Now, my love, those better be happy tears," he tutted.
"Of course they're happy tears, you stupid puppy dog!" you sniffed. "I love you."
He beamed into your hair. "I love you, too, Y/n."
What a feeling it was to be in love with Nikolai Lantsov, and to know that he was in love with you, too.
#uservignette#magpie's 1.2k#nikolai lantsov#grishaverse#grishaverse imagine#grishaverse fic#reader insert#nikolai lanstov x reader#nikolai lanstov imagines#reader#x y/n#x reader#event fic#fanfic#nikolai duology#fluff#grishaverse fanfiction#grishaverse fandom#vig's writing
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Balloons
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader
Warnings: cursing, arguing, and Clint (since he seems to be a sensitive topic for some of you)
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Natasha surprises you with balloons. What do you get for her in return?
A/N: It can get a little confusing, so just for clarification, a single dash (-) indicates a flashback, and three dashes (---) means a skip forward in time. Also, this takes place during the Snap.
“Hey, I’ll be back in a couple of days, okay?” Natasha barely looked up from her computer screen, but she heard your murmurs, going so far as to lean into your touch as you pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
If you didn’t love her, you would’ve scrunched your nose, judged her for what must’ve been days without taking a shower. Instead, your brow furrowed slightly as you leaned over her, allowing your arms to drape over her torso, your hands clasping together at the center of her chest.
“Take care of yourself, okay? No more peanut butter sandwiches.” That elicited a groan from your wife. Her eyes remained on the monitor in front of her, but she still sunk into your embrace, her body almost on autopilot once she felt the familiar contact. “Promise me, Nat. I’ve left enough meals for the next two weeks in the fridge. All you have to do is microwave them.” A low sound left her mouth—maybe it was an “okay” or an “alright,” you really couldn’t tell—but you knew that was all you were getting from her at the moment. So, with a sigh, you brushed a quick kiss to her cheek and pushed yourself to stand straight.
“I love you, Nat.” It was only then that she turned around, finally allowing you to see the sparkle in her eyes that, more so now than ever, she reserved only for you.
“I love you too, malysh. Be safe. And call me if you need anything.”
“So you’re saying I can call and ask for you?” The redhead chuckled, leaning out of her chair to grab you by the hands. Once you were standing in between her legs, one of her hands trailed up to your cheek before pulling you down to kiss her.
“Anytime, malyshka, anytime,” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, yeah?” Natasha nodded at you. The last thing you saw as you walked out the door was her characteristic smirk, the sly wave of her slender fingers, and the way her body was slumped against the chair, another sign that betrayed just how long she had gone without sleep. You had to succeed at this, for her.
---
It was pouring when you found him. You don’t think you would’ve seen him if it weren’t for the neon signs, their reflections against the growing number of puddles lighting up the street. But you didn’t need to see him to find him; the yelling and clashing of swords were enough to tell you where he was.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was gruff. It was clear he didn’t want to see you.
“I’m here to bring someone back.” He had yet to turn around, and yet you could still hear him scoff despite his turned back and the patter of rain.
“Then keep looking.” You rolled your eyes before clearing your throat and straightening up. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to see your growing assertion, but you’d make sure he heard it.
“I’m here to bring you back.”
“Don’t you have a wife to be getting back to?” You almost flinched at his words.
“How funny, I wasn’t sure if you even knew we got married.” Yes, Clint was your friend, but you didn’t forget the way Nat’s eyes shined with hurt when she looked in the crowd at her wedding and noticed that her best friend wasn’t there. It was just another thing that made her doubt what she was doing, wonder if she was a monster for moving on while everyone else suffered. You almost lost her that day, having to get Steve to pause the ceremony as you took her off to the side, desperate to make her stay.
-
“Nat, every day I wake up I think of all the people that we lost, just like that. But you’re still here, and I can’t lose you too. And if wanting to hold onto the one good thing I have left in the world makes me a monster, then-” She had pulled you close, kissed you through the tears that ran down her cheeks.
“You could never be a monster, my love.” Your foreheads pressed together as she whispered, allowing you to see the crystal droplets, physical evidence of the internal struggle she felt every day.
“And neither can you. Marry me?” She simply nodded, and you thought you couldn’t have been happier, more relieved.
But she proved you wrong only minutes later when she read her vows out to you, her eyes only leaving the crumpled paper to look at you, to make sure you were still there, as she tried to make her true feelings known. Her voice was nothing more than a whisper—you were sure you were the only one who could hear her, but that was more than okay with you—as she told you, “You told me I’m the only good thing you have left in the world, but you are my world. If I lose you, I’ve lost the world. It doesn’t matter how many other planets there are, how many galaxies exist outside of our own. There’s nothing after you.”
You pulled her into a searing kiss, not caring that Steve had yet to tell you to kiss your bride.
You were married. You were hers, and she was yours.
-
And he missed it. Clint missed one of the most important days in his best friend’s life. He still hadn’t responded when you spoke up again. You were bringing him back no matter what. Because she needed you to.
You got him to come back with you. You honestly weren’t too sure how you’d done it; maybe he was just too tired to argue anymore. But it didn’t matter because the two of you were getting in a Quinjet and going back to Natasha.
It took less than twenty minutes for you guys to be off in the air. You set the aircraft on autopilot and left the seat, heading back to put away your things.
“I will admit, I thought we’d be moving a little faster.” Your head cocked to the side at Clint’s words, not quite understanding what he meant.
“Trust me, we’re going as fast as we can. We should be there in a couple of hours.” You were almost out of earshot when he spoke again, but his words caught your attention as if he had screamed them at you.
“What’d you get her for the anniversary?”
“Wha- what do you mean? What’s today’s date?” And as Clint sighed with a shake of his head, you felt your heart sinking in your chest. He didn’t need to answer. You thought back to yesterday’s phone call and you knew exactly where you’d messed up.
-
“Hello? Nat? What are you doing awake? It’s late, you should be asleep.” There was a pause over the phone, and at first, you thought she’d hung up.
“I, um, I just wanted to check in on you.” It wasn’t so much the fact that she called or her words as it was her dejected tone that grabbed your attention, immediately made you concerned.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong? Do you need me to come back?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” she quickly reassured you. “Just… you sure you’re not forgetting anything?” You scanned the supplies you’d laid out on the dresser. A weapon or two, a couple of toiletries, only the necessities. But nothing was missing.
“No, I think I have everything. Why? Did you see something at home?” Another pause. And, still, you chalked it up to bad connection, or maybe the fact that it was late for her, she must’ve been tired.
“No, you didn’t leave anything at home.” You took one last glance at your things before nodding and launching into your plan for how you were going to get Clint back. She wasn’t as excited as you thought she would’ve been, but you never caught it. Even when you ended the call and all she gave you was a quiet goodbye, you never caught it.
-
You entered the compound with a crash, scrambling to find Natasha. It was nighttime when you got back, the lights automatically turning on one by one as you ran through each of the rooms, each of them full of furniture but devoid of life.
First, you reached the kitchen. Natasha hadn’t put away the candles, the wicks drowning in wax as if nobody had bothered to blow them out. One plate of food—which was much fancier than any of the meals you had left for Nat in the fridge—lay untouched on the counter, and you knew that, if you dared to open the fridge, there’d be another plate waiting for you.
Next, you made your way into the living room. A vase of roses sat on the coffee table, but one of them was already wilted, a petal threatening to fall off if you so much as looked at it for too long. A small bunch of heart balloons hovered in the corner. The shadows fell on them in just the right way it seemed, with them looking more like they were threatening to chase after you rather than welcome you home.
You went to your bedroom next. You doubted she would’ve been in there, but some small part of you hoped that you and Clint were wrong; you hadn’t actually missed anything, and Natasha somehow pulled herself away from her work to grab a few hours of sleep. But it wasn’t your wife on the bed. Instead, an unfamiliar yet friendly-looking teddy bear sat on the comforter, the card next to it standing upright. And though every part of you yelled at you not to open it, you did.
It was storebought, but that wasn’t what affected you. What finally broke the dam, made the tears stream down your cheeks, was the brief message she’d written on the inside.
“I know I haven’t been the best wife lately, but you are still my world. The sun, moon, stars, it’s all you, malyshka. It always will be. Happy anniversary.”
It was only then that you set off for the one place you were sure Natasha would be.
---
The smell hit you before you even entered her office. Then, you heard the somewhat incoherent grumbles, each word charged with more anger and sorrow than the last. And so it was more to your horror than surprise when you found her still at her desk, her head in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.
“Natty…” A flash of red filled your vision as her head whipped up to see you, but you weren’t sure if the color came from her cheeks or her hair.
“Oh, so you still remember my name?”
“Natty, please, I’m so sorry. I was so hun-” At first, your wife seemed slightly surprised, as if she wasn’t expecting you to apologize. Or maybe she wasn’t expecting you to know what you were apologizing for.
“Don’t you dare call me that right now, Y/N.” If her order didn’t sting, her use of your actual name definitely did. But you pushed away those feelings; right now, it was about her, the way it should’ve been about her yesterday.
“Natasha, let me explain. I was so focused on Clint, on the things we had to get done here. The dates really meant nothing to me.” Her flinches were delayed, slightly sluggish, but they nevertheless hurt to see.
“So the date of our wedding means nothing to you? I got you balloons, Y/N, I got you fucking balloons.” You flinched, but it wasn’t at the sound of the vodka bottle slamming down on the desk or at her words. It was at the words she’d told you on your six month anniversary of dating, the day she’d surprised you with a dinner at a three Michelin star restaurant and a night in a five-star hotel, a luxury you’d never experienced before and never thought you’d have in your life, let alone while you were on the run from the US federal government. But, you’d had to remind yourself as Natasha pulled you into the hotel room with a giggle, this was the world’s best spy you were dating. Of course, if anyone was capable of pulling this off, it was her.
-
“What are those?” you’d gasped, the glint of the dim lamplight on the mylar catching your attention.
“I got you balloons,” she’d chuckled as she pulled you into her embrace. “I love you so fucking much that I got you balloons. God, I’m such a sap.” You met her lips in a sweet kiss before pulling her closer, if that was even possible.
“You’re my sap.” Nat pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth, loving the way it curved upwards in a grin. Loving the fact that she made it do that.
“Well, duh, you think I’m going to go out and get balloons for Tony?” You simply giggled, the champagne the two of you had enjoyed earlier that evening only strengthening the joy that bubbled in you. “No. Never. Only for you, detka.” She had punctuated each sentence with a kiss, each one being on a different spot on your face.
“You got me balloons,” you finally whispered, meeting her eyes.
“I got you balloons,” the blonde agreed. You loved the way the green orbs captured your own gaze; you could bathe in the love they held for you.
-
But at this moment, you felt yourself drowning in the sorrow filling her eyes, the fact that she wasn’t crying being one piece of dignity you couldn’t maintain no matter how hard you tried.
“Nat,” you slowly stepped closer to her, your footsteps being the only sound filling the room during the pause. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant I barely processed what day it was at all. The only thing I was focusing on was getting Clint back.” A small part of you knew that Natasha was far too hurt and drunk to be reasoned with at the moment, but you still tried. And the rejection hurt just as much as if you hadn’t been expecting it.
“You don’t love me.” You were by her side in an instant, quick to refute her point.
“That’s not true at a-”
“You don’t love me! Just admit it, Y/N. You don’t love me.”
“Natasha, please-” Your vision was so clouded by tears you could barely make out your surroundings, but the anguish on your wife’s face was somehow clearer than it had been all night.
“You only love me when it benefits you! God, how was I so foolish to believe you could ever love me back in the same way I love you?” And though you tried to stop her, pleaded with her to just listen to you for a second, she never even hesitated for a second, the remaining vodka threatening to spill out out of the bottle with how she swung it in the air. Her insecurities from your relationship, the ones you had spent night after night reassuring her of, were coming out in full force, each word thrown out of her mouth being another punch to your gut.
But it was her last sentence that made you almost double over in pain; the way she looked at you, eyes glassy and her lower lip wobbling, the way she spoke, her voice airy and broken, the way her face was contorted, as if something had broken inside of her. Maybe something had.
“Did I really make you feel safe, or did I just help you not to feel alone?”
-
You knew she was standing outside of your room well before she knocked. Well, you knew someone was standing outside of your room.
Sure, you weren’t expecting the normally-closed off assassin to be the one who entered when you let out a measly “come in,” but you were too wrapped up in your grief to care.
“Wanda made dinner.”
“I don’t want it.” You didn’t have to turn your head to know how she was standing, feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over her chest. And maybe, if you cared, you would’ve been scared, but for all you were concerned she could come running full speed at you with widow’s bites in her hand and you wouldn’t even flinch. Maybe you’d welcome it.
“It’s not a negotiation. You’re coming to dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”
“I’m not hungry.” At first, Natasha didn’t respond. You thought you were safe. She’d turn around, close the door behind her, and you’d be alone once again, the way you should’ve been. The way you always should be. But instead, you heard her approaching footsteps and felt the mattress sink as she perched herself on the edge of your bed.
“You deserve to eat, Y/N. Just because you made a mistake-”
“A mistake is forgetting your phone at home, Nat. I got people killed. I deserve to die.” Natasha paused for a moment, and you felt the weight of her hand as she rested it on your ankle.
“You’re not the first of us to do that. Do you think we deserve to die too?” Anger and frustration swelled in your chest at her words. Of course they didn’t deserve to die; how could you agree to that? But she didn’t understand, you were different because you were you.
You hated the way she trapped you with simple logic, wanting to scream and yell for her to get out. But she was the woman of your dreams, so you stayed silent. She’d leave eventually. They all did. Or maybe you just made them leave, who knows?
But she was there 5 minutes later, 10 minutes later, 15. Half an hour passed and she was still sitting there, her posture just as perfect as when she first sat down.
Another half an hour passed before Natasha sighed, the corner of the mattress lifting. But she didn’t leave the room. Instead, she rounded the bed and sat down next to you, hands folded in her lap and her back against the headboard.
“You’re not going to leave?” you finally asked.
“No.”
“Why?” You hated the way it came out cracked and broken. You were the one who messed up; why were you also the one falling apart?
“Because you deserve to be forgiven. And you don’t deserve to be alone. I’ll stay until you realize that.” It amazed you how she said it so matter-of-factly, how she said it as if it was painfully obvious.
“Then it looks like you’re going to be staying the night.”
“Good thing I wore my pajamas.” It wasn’t until she said that that you finally turned around to look at her. Why was she wearing her pajamas?
“You knew I wasn’t coming out.”
“I had a feeling.” Her shrug was nonchalant, but the way she picked at her fingers suggested she was more nervous than she was trying to let on.
“Why are you here, Tasha?”
“Because I care,” was her answer, spoken softly yet firmly, as if she was challenging you to oppose her. But you let her.
You let her slide down, lay her arm over you. You let her lay a kiss on your forehead, hold you while you slept, fend off the screams of the departed so your dreams didn’t turn into nightmares. And just before you finally dozed off, getting the rest you’d been deprived of for days, you murmured something so quiet she could barely hear it. She’d never forget it.
“Ever since I joined the Avengers, I’m always waiting for someone to leave. Someone getting hurt, getting killed. They’ll leave one way or another and I won’t be able to get them back. I’m always on edge. But you make me feel safe, I think.”
-
“Tasha, you know that’s not true at all. Please,” you tried walking towards her again with one trembling hand outstretched, just to get her to put down the bottle, just to pull her into your arms as you tried to physically show her just how much you really did love her, just to do anything.
She backed away.
It hit you then; you weren’t going to get her back. Not now, at least. Nothing you could say, nothing you could do, could get her to listen to you at this moment.
“Just leave me alone,” she whispered, as if she could read your mind. You always thought the two of you were connected in some way. Maybe she could tell what you were thinking.
But it seemed the connection stopped there. She couldn’t understand how your feet were glued to the floor, how your heart stopped for the umpteenth time that hour, how your eyes scoured any and every part of her for want of some sign that things would be okay. She gave you nothing but a renewed hardening of her gaze, as if she had just remembered her days as one of the world’s most formidable assassins.
“Fine. I’ll leave.” And just like that, she was gone. It didn’t matter that she almost stumbled over the leg of a chair, or how you got an extra strong whiff of vodka as she passed by. What mattered was that she was gone.
---
Natasha got you balloons, filled you with joy and love as if you were a child at the center of attention during their birthday party. And you, distracted by all the other decorations that surrounded you, had let them go, the strings slipping out of your grip and floating to unreachable heights.
You had let her go.
-----
🏷 : @vancityfire13 @007giu
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff#avengers x reader#marvel#mcu#I wrote something#alwaysmarveling
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i need your brilliant mind to cheer me up (if you have time and/or want) and give me your best canon show ending with dan-wasnt-gossip-girl but dair are actually final endgame afterward headcanons
Oh dear friend I would be happy to share. I’m sort of robbing peter to pay paul with these because I do have a fic idea that I want to plug these into eventually but I am absolutely happy to share them now 🤍🤍🤍
Okay so post canon, but Dan isn’t GG are the rules yes? So let’s see what I can do. Cheering up is the endgame I promise but ya can’t reckon with the canon omelet without breaking some angst eggs.
Also this will be pushing my personal agendas of musicians!Humphreys and dilf!Dan — and bi!Dan but that’s like, canon to me, so.
Like most dair writers out there, I think derena implode on their own shortly after the wedding. Dan Humphrey may be a born liar, but just because he’s good at it doesn’t mean he likes it. He hates feeling like he’s living a lie. It was easier somehow, when the wedding was upcoming, to lose himself in the story Serena was trying to tell, and it was a good one. But in the After, when the dust settles, he feels…hollow. Lying makes him hollow, and acting like she’s the settle-down-and-marry kind makes Serena hollow, too.
He ends it, but she leaves first, hopping off to parts unknown with Carter Baizen on her arm.
Dan goes to London, and crashes on his sister’s couch because he’s trying to break his own habits of relapse (asking Serena to take him back, falling into bed with Georgina). Jenny screens his calls and gives him something to do: write songs with her. (They both say that it’s not and never will be their day jobs, but Jenny’s always written the same way their mom has always written, because it’s good for her mental health and good mental health focuses what she calls her “real art.” During one of the mini-breakups between Blair’s 2nd wedding and his own, Rufus got Dan work as a studio session musician to pay the bills (play in the accompanying band, etc.) He’s good and reliable on keys and guitar, and something about playing what other people write helps him get out of his blocks.
He gives what help he can, including throwing her some stuff that was languishing in his old journals that hadn’t seen the light of day, and Jen, in between freelancing lines, puts out a respectable EP, and convinces him (he calls it bullying) to write more with her.
Blair meanwhile, cuts Dan out and off, his annulment makes it easy. She wasn’t sure, in the run up to the wedding, if she could stand him being married to her best friend, she was convinced that the more they were in each other’s presence, the more she was in danger of falling off the precipice of her marriage. So when Serena calls her from Antigua, all Blair feels is relief.
But relief fades, and she misses her friend. Both of them, but it’s more often than not Dan she’s looking for when she needs to make eye contact at yet another ridiculous thing said at whatever event of the week she’s at. It’s Dan she wants to talk to about the last movie she saw that didn’t begin with a lamp jumping on the letter “I.” It’s Dan she wants to ask for advice when she’s drowning at Waldorf Designs because she can’t keep up.
She’s on a ledge, all the time, and when she finally has to say something about work to Chuck he says quit. So they can have another baby. (obviously chip is deep dark and manipulative and there’s way more shit going on but this is supposed to be cheery so we’ll just leave it at that for now)
It’s then that she starts to think about leaving, really leaving.
She’d thought that if she ever did, Dan would be there, but he’s even less of an option now than when he was Serena’s. Because even if he wanted her now, Serena would always blame Blair for her marriage falling apart. But Dan isn’t around, the last she remembers hearing about him is that he was dating some Canadian indie musician. Blair thinks she may have been the only one genuinely unsurprised at the fact that said musician was a guy.
Dan’s not there, but Nate is.
She and Henry become Nate’s roommates, in the small UWS apartment Nate rents, not the red herring of a hotel penthouse that keeps the Spectator bloodhounds off his heels. Nate gives her a safe place to be once the papers are served, and they take inspiration from each other. He from her for cutting Chuck out of her life for good this time, and her from him, for going back to school and finishing. She hands in her resignation to Waldorf Designs and Nate blocks every form of contact he and Chuck have.
Blair does her best on her own, with Nate and Dorota’s help (and Cyrus’ legal help), but it’s still hard, to keep up with classes at NYU and her toddler, and one day she gets home to see Jenny in her apartment.
Jenny and Nate are pals, and Jen’s in the city because when Blair left her position, Eleanor put up the metaphorical bat signal, and since her capsule collection was so well-received—and still coveted by fashionistas—Jen was offered an interim position.
Jenny and Henry get along pretty well, actually, and Jenny is self-actualized enough not to hold his parentage against him, and not to hold too much of Blair’s past against her, though she suspects it’s only out of respect for Nate.
They clear the air one night, while Dorota has Henry, on Nate’s balcony, passing a joint between them.
“I told myself I wouldn’t say anything until you ask about him,” Jenny says. “But you never do.”
“Maybe I’m afraid of the answer,” Blair replies. She knows Dan and Nate are close friends, but she hasn’t asked him anything either, for the same reason, Nate can see right through her, and she wasn’t ready for that.
After that, Blair finds through thorough browsing Jenny’s social media that Dan moved to an apartment in Chelsea, that he evidently seems to share with Jenny now she’s in the city, that he plays music, that he appears in a lot of the covers Jenny shares online, and that they have an album slated for release in a few weeks.
She finds a performance of Jenny on a late night talk show, and she watches, because Dan isn’t in the thumbnail so she thinks it’s safe. It’s pretty good actually.
Life goes on. Blair’s divorce is finalized. At Cyrus’ and Nate’s advice, she holds nothing back in her depositions, and as such gets full custody of her son. The relief is so palpable Blair locks herself in a bathroom in the courthouse and cries.
Jenny continues to hang around at her pal Nate’s apartment, but it’s kind of…okay? She’ll crash in at the end of the day with takeout, interrupting Nate and Blair reading for classes, she’ll joke with Nate and Henry and pick Blair’s brain for advice on Waldorf Designs.
One night after Henry’s asleep and she’s had just enough red wine to make her brave, she tries watching one of Dan’s performances posted to Jenny’s feed. It’s a cover of “Chelsea Morning” and it makes Blair smile because she has memories of him singing Joni Mitchell in the loft, and one day while they were together the weather was dreary and neither of them felt like going anywhere and he pulled an LP off the shelf and declared it a “Blue Day” and they lay on the rug and listened to the whole album. And it’s…that thing of when you hear the voice of someone you cherish for the first time in a long while and it hits you how much you miss it in your everyday? It’s that.
But she can’t keep living in the past, she has to get Henry enroled in preschool and herself enrolled in her last year of college plus figure out just what she wants to do with her life.
One day Jenny calls her. “Okay so you know I hate asking for favors from you but if you were to ask, well, anyone, they would say that you probably own me a billion.”
So, Blair goes. Jenny and her work is being photographed for a feature in Vogue, and her coordinator backed out, and there’s actually not that many people in this world that Jenny trusts with her vision, but Blair is (begrudgingly) one of them.
So, Blair steps in, interfacing with the photographer, and the Vogue team, which is headed up by … *drumroll* Epperly Lawrence!
Epperly casually mentions at the end of the day that she’s glad Blair is back in this line of work, because she was always good at it. And that gets Blair thinking…
Nate cheerfully accuses Dan of never coming around anymore, but Nate knows damn well the reason why.
Not that he resents Nate for being there for Blair, maybe he resents that he couldn’t be.
He’s still writing, but prose is slow going. Songwriting though…He likes cowriting with Jen. She’s never precious with him, will tell him when something doesn’t work so that shen she says something is good, he believes her. They have to hold Rufus at arm’s length to curb his enthusiasm, because neither of them expect it to last, this music thing, but they have to see it through. But, with Rufus’ permission, he takes some of his dad’s half-finished songs and completes them, and the end up on the record. The record is a hodge podge really, of Jenny’s writing and his writing and Rufus’ all it coming together in something that actually resembles a record. It’s helpful, having a place to put words that he wasn’t able to get out in another medium. Jenny reads his lyrics, and he knows just by the sideways glance she gives that she knows who they’re about, but doesn’t say anything.
They’ve worked together. Jenny told him because she isn’t precious with him, but she also seems like she’s waiting for him to ask. He can’t let himself.
The record comes out eventually, and it’s good. It feels good to have something collaborative, it’s much harder to hate it after it comes out, unlike the books with only his name on the cover.
They’ve been gigging in the city, half of their stuff, half covers, and that plus the album plus their name recognition (plus his connections from working for a studio for so many years, Jenny tries to tell him) gets them an offer to play as an opener on a similar sounding acts tour.
Dan’s always thought he wouldn’t be the type. Rufus’ over-romanticized stories have kind of put him off, but he can tell Jen wants to do it. She’s felt too chained to Waldorf Designs as of late and is chomping at the bit for an artistic palate cleanser. And it’s not like there is anything keeping him here in New York.
At Epperly’s encouragement, Blair starts putting herself out there professionally again, applying everywhere, because she’s not that attached to New York, there’s little to keep her here. And, miraculously enough, she gets an offer from Vogue Paris. It’s a demotion anyway you look at it compared to her last job, but it’s earned. And hers. She can move to Paris, Henry can grow up bilingual and in a city where he isn’t Chuck Bass’ son. (Bass Industries goes under after the divorce. Apparently the financial strain and bad press was too much for him to take).
She starts putting the plans in motion, and Nate starts making some of his own. With Dan’s help, he’s been applying to graduate programs for social work, “And while I hate the idea of even more school, I really want to do this.” And before that, he’s taking the post graduation sailing trip of his dreams. Blair worries, the way she always does, that Henry’s gotten too used to having Nate around, that she’s gotten to used to having him around. But it’s time for her to move on. “If you ever need me,” Nate promises, “I’m there.”
During her last week in NYC, Nate persuades her to let Dorota take Henry for the night and come out with him to the show Jenny’s playing before she leaves on tour. She’d given Eleanor her notice with a long list of vetted replacements, but Eleanor still bemoans her misfortune to Blair over the phone. Blair had only nodded along, half listening while coloring with Henry. Waldorf Designs is not her ship to save anymore.
So they go. It’s a retrospective sort of thing, with Lincoln Hawk as one of its main centerpieces. She spots Lily in the crowd, because of course those two couldn’t stay away from each other very long. And, during the set, both Dan and Jenny come onstage.
It’s something to watch. The Dan she knows is never comfortable in the spotlight, he shifts away from it, or tries to reflect it back onto someone else. On stage, behind the mic and a guitar in his hands, it’s like he wraps the music around himself. It’s not about him, it’s about the story.
Nate takes them to the stage door after the show, and he and Jenny disappear into the night shortly after, which means Blair is left to her own devices, and so is Dan.
“Walk me home?” she asks, suddenly shy.
He says yes.
She loses count of how many blocks, but they walk the whole way, from the club on the Lower East Side, to her old penthouse that she’s helping her mom close up and prepare to sell before leaving for France.
They take their time, going slowly, and talking about…everything.
Henry is the first thing he asks about, and they go from there.
She talks about her new job, and he talks about his musical moonlighting. They touch on their respective divorces, but they’re both on the other side of it now.
Eventually though, they get to her door. And because she has nothing to lose and everything to gain, she kisses him, and all those years, all that time between the last just falls away.
“So, Dan, are you coming upstairs, or what?”
“Blair,” he sighs, “I’m going on tour tomorrow.”
“I’m moving to France in three days!”
He laughs, and when she grabs his hand and leads him forward, he follows.
The next few months go by, Dan tours, Blair settles in to her new job and helps Henry settle into his new life in Paris. He loves his new school, and the language he picks up quickly in the way only small kids can.
Dan sends her postcards from every stop, the constraints of the format keep him from saying too much too fast. He sometimes shares stories from the road, like when in Nashville, he breaks a string midsong during an acoustic set and drops out completely from laughing too hard, leaving Jenny on her own and causing her to go “What the fuck, dude?” as soon as she finishes. Sometimes he doesn’t talk about the tour at all, writing about the years they were strangers to each other.
Blair pressures Nate into getting an email address so she can send him replies. They go on like that, his card and her emails, until he wraps the tour back in NYC.
A few weeks after his last postcard, Blair is out on her favorite weekly ritual, her Thursday lunchtime visit to Musee D’Orsay. She’s been systematically showing Henry all of her favorite places, but with him in kindergarten, this midday trip is something she sets aside just for her.
She can trace the path to her favorite gallery on autopilot now, but when she gets there, someone is already standing in front of the painting, blocking most of Manet’s work from her view.
She would know him anywhere, even with his back turned. She knows him from the set of his shoulders and the curl of his hair, and the stillness of his figure, like he was part of the art himself.
He perks up at the sound of her heels clicking on the marble floor, walking into the rest of her life. And when he turns to look over his shoulder, oh, she cannot stop her smile.
Dan gets his own place in Paris at first, a tiny studio walkup in the 6th. “Left bank,” Blair snorts, “figures.” He wanted to give Henry time to actually get to know him, since he was a baby when Dan last knew him, but Dan is still around all the time, cooking meals, accompanying the Waldorfs on Blair’s trips to show Henry her Paris, which becomes showing Henry and Dan her Paris. He sublets the tiny studio after 3 months. They’d waited enough.
They get married at Harold and Roman’s vineyard in the summer. It’s small, quiet. Lily and Rufus fly in and rent a property a few kilometers away for the weekend, Eleanor and Cyrus plan to drive up from Paris on the day, and Nate and Jenny tumble in a few days prior from their respective landing places—Nate from Berkeley, Jenny from Tokyo.
Dan and Nate and Roman lead Henry in kicking a football around on the grounds, and the quiet, ever-present guilt she can’t help but have—that she’s kept her son from having a father—fizzles and fades away. Because Henry has Dan, and hope balloons in Blair’s chest that her son isn’t destined to be broken and break others in return. She’s relieved, so relieved that she’s…nauseous?
Jenny’s the one that finds her slumped on the floor of her father’s tastefully decorated guest bathroom. Maybe it’s some remnant of feminine solidarity, or that they’ll legally be family in less than 24 hours, or maybe after all this time Jenny Humphrey really is her friend, because Jen slips out and to the city and back on a crucial errand.
Blair toys with the idea of waiting until tomorrow, to make it “special,” but it already is, special. So before he goes to stay the night in the carriage house (because Daniel Humphrey had to have some kind of tradition for his wedding), she tells him she’s pregnant. And tells him that she wanted to tell him now, when they’re like this, because she loves him like this and tomorrow isn’t going to make them more of a family than they already are, or change how happy she is about this now.
He so cries.
On the next day, after they sign the marriage license, Dan signs the adoption papers that make Henry his. Though if you were to ask, Dan would say it’s him that belongs to Henry.
They don’t say anything about the pregnancy ntil a few weeks later, but Jenny catches Dan sipping on Blair’s champagne all night with raised eyebrows.
Serena doesn’t come, but she calls while Blair is getting ready, and three months later, she sends the most expensive and designer baby basket money can buy.
Apart from his absolutely terrible French, Dan takes to his life as Parisian house husband very well. He calls it his Julia Child, Alice Toklas phase. Blair still sometimes has to remind herself that she doesn’t need to guard Henry so jealously anymore, that Dan’s here for him as much as he is for her.
Many a time, though, Henry will be telling him a story and get so excited that he goes too fast and forgets what language he’s speaking, and Dan will have to stop him and say “Henry, honey, en Anglais, please.”
“Does it bother you?” Dan asks after Lizzie Waldorf-Humphrey is born, “That she can’t run for president?”
“Nah,” Blair says sleepily, “She’s a Supreme Court justice all the way.”
One day when Blair’s organizing her home office, she stumbles across their high school senior yearbook. She ignores most pages, too many of them with the potential to hurt, but sends a picture to Serena of the page of the two of them, which Serena hearts immediately.
She pads down the hall and into Dan’s office, the door open so he can keep one eye in Henry in the living room, Lizzie asleep on the sofa.
“So this was your plan all along?” she asks as she saunters in. “The American writer in Paris?”
It takes him a minute to come out of his head and back to her, but he always comes back. He blinks at the book in her hands for a moment until his eyes light up in recognition, the rest of his face lighting up with a laugh.
He reaches out a hand, tugging her to him. “This,” he says, in that heart-stirringly sincere way only he gets, “is so beyond what I ever could have planned.”
She slips onto his lap, and he holds her close, the both of them knowing this quiet will only last so long, and then Lizzie will wake up and Henry will barrel in with a question and a follow up and the cat is somewhere in the house about to knock something over. Never completely peaceful nor perfect but wholly, entirely worth it.
#posting without proofing bc i like to live dangerously#asks#dair#donnas-troia#anna this really got away from me sorry 😂#me: *is asked for some hcs*#me: *writes a 3.5k thesis for a fic*#i am sorry for me. but I had the most fun writing this#I’m so very sorry you’re going through a tough time. I’m sending you love and I hope this helped cheer you a bit 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜#gg au#dilf!dan cinematic universe#henry waldorf rights!!!#lizzie humphrey my most beloved oc
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Saving Kaneki from going on that date with Rize
______________________________
The first time I had met him was at the school library. He had stumbled into my life, quite literally stumbled. He had tripped and fallen on top of me, knocking over most of the books from the fantasy section.
There he was, all shy with shining silver eyes and dark hair. He groaned and rubbed his head before immediately standing up and apologising, running back to an orange haired boy whom I assumed was his friend.
The next day, a Monday, it was going back to classes again. Most people were taking a break from everything and just going out since it was the weekend but I stayed in and read some fanfiction to release some stress. Dazai is good and all but sometimes you just need a brain break from all the high vocabulary and just read some cheesy love story written by a delusional 16 year old.
I had arrived to class early since it's nice when it's all silent and nobody is here. I sighed before taking out my textbooks and reading Sen Takatsuki's newest novel. I rested my chin on my palm as I engrossed myself into the pages of the book.
Suddenly, I noticed something from the corner of my eye, there was someone else here. It didn't take long for me to realize that it was the boy from the library yesterday.
He had 2 cups of coffee in his hand with one nervously held out towards me. I was a bit shocked since nobody had ever done a gesture like that to me before so I froze for a second before accepting the warm beverage.
"I'm really sorry I ran into you yesterday, I really didn't mean to, it was an accident and I didn't know where I was going, and um, I'm Kaneki Ken."
"It's alright. I didn't mind and you didn't have to get me this but thank you." I smiled politely.
"You're welcome and it really was no trouble. It's the least I could do to excuse my clumsiness." He shyly spoke.
"Would you like to sit down?" I asked as I noticed he was still standing in front of me.
"O-oh sure!" His eyes widened. He sat down next to me and pulled out his textbooks, mimicking the actions I had done prior to him arriving.
"Hey, is that Takatsuki's newest novel? How'd you get that? I didn't think it'd be out 'till next week!" The smile that lit up his face was something I'd never get used to and unbeknownst to me, would be the one I would slowly fall in love with.
"Oh, most shops have already had them shipped to them and are keeping them in storage until next week. A bookstore owner I know really well managed to sneak one out for me." I explained.
"Aw, no way! You're so lucky! Do you mind if I borrow it? I promise I'll give it back to you by tomorrow!" He exclaimed and I can swear I think I saw sparkles in his eyes.
"Um, Here, you can take it now since I finished it earlier in the morning." I handed the book to him.
Thus was the start of our friendship. Even though he was often busy with school more than me, (since he took more complex classes) he still had time to spend with me. It'd be small things from sitting silently next to me and doing his school work while I read any book that he had recommended to just going out for ice cream together in a nearby park.
Everyday he would seem to bring me a beverage whether it'd be my favorite coffee or something else. If he couldn't meet with me, he'd always have it delivered to my doorstep. It became a tradition for us.
Soon enough, I had met the orange haired boy that I had seen with Kaneki the day that I first met him and not long after had we also become friends.
Somehow, Hide and Kaneki managed to get me out of my apartment and took me out to get lunch with them. The three of us had become quite close.
Although I enjoyed my friendship with both of them, it had seemed that I had fallen in love with the dark haired boy and might I say fallen really hard. Like, cupid got drunk and shot me in the back, sending me flying into Kaneki's heart, face first into his adorableness.
His eyes told stories that I found familiarity in. It held the same gleam of a painful past, the same feeling I found in mine. It didn't take long for me to accept the fact that I had drowned myself in his aura, becoming truly, madly deep in love with Kaneki Ken.
Unfortunately Hide had figured this out and of course he tried to get me to confess and after what felt like centuries of persuading, he finally got me to go and confess.
Well, that was before now. Now, he had come to me with pitiful eyes, telling me that Kaneki had fallen for a shy, purple haired woman that he had met in a coffee shop, and that he had asked her out on a bit of a date, and that she had said yes. I couldn't process what was even coming out of his mouth.
Kaneki asking out a stranger? Impossible–
–But.. after awhile I looked up at Hide and saw that he still had the same downcast look on his face. I knew then that he wasn't lying, and that he was serious. I guess that Kaneki does not feel the same way I do. we'll, obviously he didn't. I felt myself go numb as I was being pulled into a hug by Hide but I didn't respond. He kept apologizing over and over again, telling me that Kaneki is an idiot to have chosen a stranger over the the girl who was there for him through the difficult times and shared almost everything with each other but, in my eyes, I was just the girl who was foolishly in love with a boy who would never look at her the way she looked at him.
Hide went on about how Kaneki must have been crazy not to like me back, and that kaneki and I were perfect for one another, and that Kaneki was just making a mistake but everything that came out of his mouth just felt like lies that only reminded me more and more of the reality, stomping harder on my already shattered heart.
Hide decided to take me to get some food to cheer me up. It wouldn't work but I accepted his kind request since I can at least try to get my mind off of it.
"Don't worry about it, Y/n! We're gonna have the bestest day you've ever experienced!" Hide exclaimed determined.
"Give it your best shot." I shrugged my shoulders.
"Just wait and see Y/n, it'll be fun. Now let's go!" Hide shouted.
Once we had arrived, Hide's face looked distraught and he immediately said we should go somewhere else. I found that very weird and out of the ordinary for him. That's when I noticed him staring at something and I followed his gaze only to be met with the shattering view.
"Oh." I muttered.
"That's why" he let out a sigh. "I'm sorry." He apologized.
There was Kaneki, across the street with a tall long purple haired girl who I assumed was the girl who he asked out.
"What do you mean? That doesn't matter to me. Let's just go inside anyway." I lied straight through my teeth, doing my best to seem unbothered by it.
"Are you sure? You don't seem like you're okay." Hide asked with worried eyes, concern evident on his face.
"No no, I'm fine" but my tone contradicted my words.
"Look y/n, you're hurt and upset but you don't have to force yourself to do this-" Hide gripped my shoulder only to be interrupted by my voice.
"I said it's okay, Hide. C'mon, I can handle this." I smiled.
I don't know why I'm doing this but it can't get any worse, can it?
Shit.. yes, yes it can and it's happening right now.
Kaneki sees us and makes his way over. His expression was shocked to say the least.
"Y/n? What're you doing here?" Kaneki asked.
"Oh um, Hide and I just decided to get some food." I stumbled the words out.
"..with Hide?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yea." I pressed my lips together and rocked on my heels.
"Huh, interesting." He hummed. "Are you two out on a date?" His expression changed to bitter.
"Wait what? No way." I laughed, actually finding it funny he would think that. Even Hide snickered.
"oh.." He muttered.
"So, who's that?" I chocked out, referring to the violet haired girl.
"This is Rize." He introduced.
"Well it was nice to meet you! Excuse me I have to go now." I ran to the bathroom. Fuuuuuck that was so embarrassing. I wanna cry and scream at the same time.
I could overhear Hide and Kaneki still talking. I focused to hear a bit clearer and I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth as I heard Hide passive aggressively say, "Have fun on your date while y/n and I hang out and have fun all day. Bye Ken!"
Hide huffed before sitting down next to me. "Someone looks pissed." I mumbled.
"Who wouldn't I be pissed? God, he's so fucking dense. This is like when your two favorite characters who you ship don't end up together and one of them ends up with some other bitch." He ran his hand through his hair sighing.
"What did you say to him?" I asked.
"You'd scold me if I told you so I'm not telling you. Ugh, I can't believe I'm best friends with such a-" I stopped him mid sentence.
"Let it go, Hide." I put a hand on his shoulder.
"I won't talk about it anymore but I'm not letting it go." He huffed.
"Whatever but, did you notice something weird about her?" I asked.
"Uh, not really. What do you mean by weird?" He asked.
"Bro, I swear there's something fucking weird about that girl!" I exclaimed.
"She doesn't seem weird.. I just think he's ways out of her league." He explained.
"No no, there's just something.. I don't know. She gives off weird vibes." I stirred the straw in my drink.
"Hm, are you sure you aren't acting like this because.." Hide trailed off, smirking.
"I just care about him, it's not about how I feel and- stuff for him, y'know? It's not about that. I'm just worried about him." I expressed my concerns trying to not include my feelings into the equation.
"Call it whatever you want but you're jealous." He snickered.
"I've got an idea!" I exclaimed.
"Oh no-" He widened his eyes.
"I'll go with them!" I said.
"I don't think they'd let you." He furrowed his brows.
"I'll just sit at another table so they won't see me."
"Don't-"
"I PROMISE I won't ever do it again. Just this one time and if everything goes ok I'll never do it again." I put my hands together before Hide sighed in response.
~
I sat at a table far away from them but enough for me to see. They were talking but I couldn't make out what they were saying.
Kaneki was mostly likely rambling on about his favorite books. He's so cute when he makes those little gestures. Honestly, he could talk about where hot dogs come from and I'd still drool over how adorable he is.
Seggsy lesbian bitch- I mean Rize on the other hand was just doing the debby ryan and not even eating anything. That's kinda suspicious. Is she a vampire or something? Holy shit what if she's a ghoul?!
I almost didn't notice them leaving but I somehow catched up to where they were going. It was already a but dark out. They came to a stop and Kaneki was blushing furiously.
Wait..
Oh no
They leaned in..
Are they going to kiss? I don't think I can bear to watch that.
What happened next almost gave me a heart attack. She opened her mouth and was about to bite his shoulder. My fight or flight response immediately activated and before I knew it, I grabbed Kaneki's hand and ran.. His eyes widened in pure shock.
From the corner of my eye, I could see in the reflection of weird tentacles coming out of her as she wailed and chased after us. I didn't notice at first but soon enough I felt the blood trickle down my leg.
She managed to cut my leg. I wasn't that good at running and the gash made it even worse. I felt my legs giving out and I collapsed onto the concrete sidewalk. Everything felt kind of foggy and I barely remember what's even happening right now but I could feel that Kaneki somehow managed to carry me on his back and he ran to the nearest public area.
"Y/n! You're bleeding! We need to get you to the hospital right now!" Kaneki said as he frantically looked for his phone.
"Are you okay? Did she bite you?" I asked.
"No, I'm fine! You're the one hurt right now! Why are you worrying about me?" I could see the fear and concern in his eyes. For some reason I felt guilty for it but I felt warm inside knowing he cared.
"I'll be fine, it's just a cut. She was going to eat you! What was going to happen if she did?" I squeezed his hand.
"I'm okay now, aren't I? Thanks to you." He smiled, wiping away splattered blood from my cheek.
"You're welcome, Kaneki-san"
"I called Hide to come so he can help take you to the hospital to get your wound treated." He assured me.
"Its not a big deal." I tried to pretend I wasn't in extreme pain.
"It is" He sternly voiced.
"It's not" I spoke with the same tone.
"Don't argue back. I owe it to you after you saved my life."
"Fine but only because you said so."
After we arrived at the hospital, the doctor said it was just a small gnash, nothing severe. They patched me up and Kaneki insisted on coming along with me.
"You didn't have to come with me, Ken. I can manage on my own." I said as we entered my apartment.
"Oh and also, what're you doing?" I asked as he tugged on my jacket trying to get it off which he somehow managed to do.
"Y/n, you're my friend and you saved my life, I already told you I owe you." He sighed hanging up our coats.
"A friend, huh?" I smiled sadly. Back to pain it was again. Heartbreak isn't a hobby for me, it's a lifestyle. :')
"Y-yeah, well you're my friend aren't you?" He peered at me with doe eyes.
"Kaneki I really need to tell you something." I blurted.
"What is it?" He gulped.
"I.." I started but choked up.
"Uh?" He stepped closer. Dammit why is this so difficult.
"I love you." I whispered averting my eyes away. I couldn't dare to look at his face. After a moment of silence I looked up to see.. nobody? Where'd he go?
"Kaneki?? Where are you?" I shouted. Did he leave? Wow, couldn't he at least say it that he doesn't like me. I suddenly tripped over something and fell onto the floor, thankfully on top of a rug.
I groaned feeling a sharp pain in my abdomen from landing on something underneath. I slowly get up and look to see Kaneki. Kaneki. On the floor. wut.
"Eh? What the-???" I yelled in confusion. "Why are you on the God damn floor??" I frantically shouted.
"And are you crying? And texting Hide?" I ask seeing his lit up phone screen.
"N-no" He sniffled, turning his head so I couldn't see.
"Why are you crying, though?" I raised an eyebrow, wiping his tears with my thumb.
"It's just that I never thought you'd ever like me. Do you know h-how long I've had feelings for you?" He teared up even more.
"Why are you getting emotional?" I held his hand tighter.
"Oh my bananas y/n, I'm crying tears of joy! I'm so happy you like me back! I just thought you'd never like me back, that's why I went out with Rize to try and forget these feelings." He looked away from me with pink tinted cheeks feeling shameful.
"Kaneki! Why didn't you say anything?" I scolded light heartedly.
"You know I'm shy. How come you didn't?" He scrunched his nose. Adorable.
"Well I was! In fact I was planning on confessing on the day you asked that girl out" I glanced down while frowning, having a sour taste in my mouth.
"Y/n.. do you want to go out on a date with me?" He looked up at me.
"Of course I do and I wanted to be the one to ask!" I crossed my arms.
"Beat you to it." He smiled.
"Can I at least pick the date?" I asked.
"Errr sure but I want to go on a book date 'cause Hide said they're lame and I wanna prove him wrong." He narrowed his eyes.
"Sure." I sigh.
"Thank you, Y/n!" He launched himself at me, hugging me tightly.
"What for?" I laughed hugging him back.
"For saving me and for agreeing to going on a date with me" He whispered.
"I didn't have a choice when it came to liking you though, how could I not?" I replied back.
"May we.. stay like this." He requested while staring up at me with sparking glossy doe eyes. I gazed at his soft pink face and planted a cheste kiss on his cheek causing his breath to hitch.
The moment was innocent, delicate and serene... until Kaneki's phone dinged with a notification of a text from Hide. Y/n made a mental note to ask what he texted Hide behind her couch while Kaneki made a mental note to ask how the hell did she show up at the right moment when Rize tried to eat him.
—But only Hide knows the answer to those questions 💅
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At Alter’s End: A CYOA Novel
Overview:
Trentworth, Maine. A town of ten thousand southeast of Ellsworth and North of Bayside. Its only bragging point since its conception in 1867 was being a shoreline city and cheaper than any of the other big tourist towns. Nothing ever happened here, besides the occasional drowning or fishing trip accident, until the killings started. They lasted five years in total and 48 people were lost to the killer’s sick desires. Robert Hall terrorized this small town, slipping under the radar by focusing on those considered “undesirable”; sex workers, orphans, drug addicts, and the like. Now ten years later, ten years after the killer has been put behind bars, murders have begun again. A copycat killer has come to Trentworth. And they seem to be targeting the ones left behind, still trying to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives…
You take the role of a highschool senior; your parents having died in a home fire shortly before the killer was put behind bars and now under the care of your workaholic aunt. Make allies of your classmates or attempt to go it alone, clear your parents’ name from their believed involvement with the killer or fight to put the past behind you, deal with the skeletons in your closet and mind or bury them deeper... Oh, and make sure your history project is turned in on time. With two young siblings depending on you and a whole host of problems a highschool student should never have to deal with, can you survive this nightmare made real?
Trigger Warnings: This game will go into very heavy topics including the following; murder, death, various mental health issues (such as PTSD, depression, and anxiety), abandonment, gambling, various types of drug addiction, self harm mentions (not happening to the MC or shown in graphic detail), suicide, sex work, child abuse (mental, emotional, and physical), and dangerous situations. This is a murder mystery/thriller, it is NOT intended for audiences below 18.
Hello! Thank you for showing interest in At Alter’s End. This is a Choose Your Own Adventure style novel in the Thriller and Murder Mystery genres. It would also fit nicely in the Drama genre as well, but Drama is not the focus. This will be a rather lengthy project, with fifteen chapters plus a prologue and epilogue planned.
You take on the role of a senior at Trentworth High. Join an after-school activity, take care of your younger siblings, prepare for finals, get a part time job, find a date to homecoming, and survive your worst nightmare come to life. The copycat killer is targeting the students of your school and no one is safe. With the police dragging their feet, no help coming any time soon from any higher up law enforcement, and the locals refusing to acknowledge the possibility of a copycat killer, it’s up to you and your classmates to find the person responsible...before it’s too late.
- You can play as female, male, nonbinary, or trans!
- You can be straight, gay, or bisexual!
- A highly customizable MC including hair color, eye color, skin color, hair length, height, and personality and interests!
- The ability to choose which mental illness the MC suffers from due to the trauma of their past from the following:
Anxiety, Depression, or PTSD.
- The MC is deaf in their right ear ear due to the way in which their parents died; this is not something that can be changed.
- Choose from 7 different official after-school activities! Trentworth Volunteers, Up and Coming Artists, National Debate Society, National Honors Society, Co-Ed Varsity Basketball, Creative Writing, and Trentworth Gardeners!
- Bond with your classmates, explore your town, and help raise your younger siblings!
- Rescue your parents’ bakery from corporate clutches or let it go!
- Find the killer, stop the murders, and put a stop to the rumors that have plagued your every step for 10 years!
Vanya: Oldest adoptive twin sibling to MC’s adoptive siblings, 6 years younger than MC. Strong-headed, intelligent, and always getting into trouble. She looks after her brother and MC in the ways she can.
Ajay: Youngest adoptive twin sibling to MC’s adoptive sibling, 6 years younger than MC. Nearly completely blind since birth, he enjoys painting and other artistic endeavors. Obedient yet opinionated.
Aunt Emma: The workaholic aunt that takes custody of MC and their younger siblings after the death of their parents. Well meaning but absent most of the time on business trips or at the office.
Kwan Hall: An adoptive relative to Robert Hall; aloof, intelligent, and completely ostracized by Trentworth as a whole. When the killings start again the town’s attention is immediately turned on Kwan. He’s the first to begin investigating the killings when the police prove their incompetence. He is of Korean descent, standing at 5’6” with dark hair and dark eyes. His most notable feature is the long scar that stretches from his forehead’s hairline, down his left temple, and ends just below his jawline and the constant disinterest on his face. He is asexual in that he doesn’t experience sexual attraction at all. He is also bisexual.
Alessia D’Agostina: Trentworth High’s school president. She’s clawed her way tooth and nail up to earn the respect of both the school faculty and her fellow classmates; she’s strong-willed, dependable, and always looks at things through a logical lens. When she sees her classmates dying, she takes it upon herself to try and stop this once and for all. With dark skin, deep brown eyes, long braided hair, and standing at 5’8” her confidence and sense of self always make sure she stands out from the crowd. Alessia is bisexual.
Georgiy Kuzmin: Twin brother to Anastasiya Kuzmin; he is, in the kindest way possible, not the brightest bulb in the box. Yet he always means well and is more than willing to offer a helping hand. As the co-captain of the basketball team, captain of the baseball team, and the star of the swim team, Georgiy is one of the most popular and well beloved students at Trentworth High. When he realizes his friends are in danger, he willingly throws himself into the investigation to do all he can to help. With fair skin, dirty blond hair, bubbly green eyes, and standing at 6’1” he cuts an approachable figure to anyone who knows him. Georgiy is gay.
Anastasiya Kuzmin: Twin sister to Georgiy Kuzmin: she and her brother are alike in so many ways apart from just appearance. Anastasiya, who goes by Ana more often than not, is head of the Co-Ed Varsity Basketball team, the Girls’ softball team, and the Tennis team. Just as popular and loved as her brother, Ana may not be the smartest but she makes up for it with passion and dedication. Like her brother, she has fairer skin, dirty blond hair, and bright green eyes. Also like her brother, she felt she couldn’t just sit around while her friends were put in danger and agreed to join the investigation. Ana is gay and demiromantic, meaning she only gains feelings for someone after having a strong relationship with them.
Lillian Triano: A quiet, withdrawn girl who mainly keeps to herself. Due to the fact that Trentworth High demands for every senior to be apart of an elective, she is mainly seen in afterschool reading club run by Ms. Habeeb. She’s MC’s closest friend, having been one of the only people who didn’t believe the rumors that MC’s parents were assisting Robert Hall in his murders. She has an olive complexion, brown eyes, a heavy dose of freckles, and stands at 5’1”. Lillian is gay.
Jasmine Abernathy: Jasmine is Trentworth High’s self proclaimed “Best news source!” After the school newspaper was disbanded, Jasmine took it upon herself to keep freedom of the press alive. She’s fierce in her pursuit of the truth and never one to back down from a fight, though her rash attitude can get her into some sticky situations on occasion. With vibrant red hair, dark brown eyes, and standing at 5’3” she puts the term “fire” in Fire Signs. (She’s an Aries in astrology!) When the copycat killings began, it was no surprise when she took the case head on. Jasmine is bisexual.
Asa San Nicholas: Asa is the oldest of a set of triplets; they’re the type to march to the beat of their own drum, often not listening to what anyone has to say about themselves or their interests. Asa is a firm believer in the paranormal and it isn’t uncommon to find them indulging in their interest in various ways. “The spirits are distrubed. These deaths aren’t meant to happen.” Asa’s reason for getting involved seems to tie directly back to their “connection” with the spirits of the town. Asa has black hair, most often tied in a ponytail, hazel eyes, and an olive skin tone. At 6’4” they tower over most everyone...something they seem to enjoy a great deal. Asa doesn’t see gender and is interested in people regardless of how they present.
Leo San Nicholas: The middle of the triplets. They are genderfluid, okay with any pronouns. Leo is, for lack of a better word, eccentric. A bit of an adrenaline junkie, you can often find them cliff diving or giving their siblings heart attacks by playing russian roulette with a chocolate gun. To them, it isn’t fun if there isn’t a little danger involved; naturally, an investigation into a serial killer scratches that itch quite nicely. Their black hair is clipped short, multiple piercings visible on each ear, and their heterochromatic hazel and green eyes are often stated to stare through a person. Although Leo is genderfluid, they are only interested in people who present as female.
The demo is upcoming! When it is available I will make a post announcing it! I will also update this post with the link! This game is written in choicescript; the demo will be published on Dashingdon and the final game will be published for free on itch.io. I am open for questions regarding this game/novel and once the demo is published I will also be publishing a link to my Ko-fi! Until then, please don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions!
#interact if#interactive fiction#choicescript#Choose your own adventure#At Alter's End#CYOA#Author Speaks
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stood you up [hcs]
“it sounds exactly as it looks like. they stood you up on a date, and they realize the damage.”
includes: todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku, togata mirio (part one)
your name is shortened to y/n, they/them pronouns used (quirk up to the imagination)
notes: ANGST 😳 IN MY BLOG?? never thought i’d see it but.. here we are. i plan on doing part 2 with other characters.
—
todoroki shouto
he wakes up on a saturday, as per usual.
and he’s kinda— no scratch that, he’s very irritated
because the other night— endeavor was bothering him about ‘not training properly’ and he was accusing him of slacking off.
which.. he’s not
his father also gave him a scolding (which lasted for hours.),
but nothing too bad. it was enough to make him irritated. so uh oh. todoroki’s really something else when he’s irritated.
and endeavor also blew up his phone with badly written text messages, telling him to train today.
so likely, he also woke up quite irritated.
he just wanted to drown himself in training and school work to forget about it.
completely forgetting the date HE said he’d take you on that afternoon, the date he planned a week before.
because he FINALLY got the courage to ask his crush aka you out. with the help of midoriya
like.. you pass him in the hallway— and before you were able to speak, he just kinda..
glared at you and walked away, not exchanging any words with you. he really needs to cool down
which was.. huh. 🤨 okay then. but you excused it because todoroki had a resting bitch face at some moments
it’s 5pm now, and he’s chilling in the common room— and he finally calmed down, and he’s back to his usual demeanor
midoriya walks in the common room, and he’s like “hey todoroki! how was the date with y/n?”
because midoriya helped orchestrate the date, he wanted to know
todoroki’s just like “fuck.” he forgot, and he also may have glared at you by accident.
realization is shown on his face, and midoriya is left apalled— begging him to “go find y/n quick!”
todoroki literally goes 🏃♂️💨 to the meeting place, which was the park in this case
and he can’t find you— so he scans the entire vicinity, and he can see you walking back to the dorm in a distance
immediately, he runs after you— calling for you to just wait and hear him out but you don’t turn back,
because you just want to lay in bed and sleep for 5 days
and besides.. he’s the last person you wanted to see right now
he grabs you, which makes him stop in place— “y/n, please just—”
“oh what now, listen? you were the one that asked me out, todoroki. and you just..” bitterness is in your tone, and he can’t even be mad.
your voice falters, and you were mad at first. but you’re just exhausted at this point
you guys haven’t spoke all day
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” he apologizes, looking at your appearance.
you look beautiful, and he just wasted it by forgetting the occasion. he doesn’t want to imagine what you’ve felt in the last several hours
“my father scolded me last night,” he grips on your hands, brushing his thumb on the back of your hand,
“and it was for a long time. and i was just so frustrated by it, i even looked at you weirdly and forgot about the entire date i planned out for weeks. and i’m sorry. i understand if you don’t want to—”
“just stop, okay?” he looks up, and you don’t seem that mad anymore. “i understand. i just wished you told me about it, y’know?”
it doesn’t seem enough, so he pulls you into a hug, “i’m sorry. may i.. take you out again tomorrow? i promise i’ll make it right.”
you give him a chance, after all— you know he truly cares about you.
midoriya izuku
in this case, y’all are already together
but he wanted to take you out on a date— because you guys have been so busy, that you just had no time for any proper dates
so.. he wanted to take you out during the break, finally relieved by the hectic activities for a day.
out of everyone here, he’s the least likely to forget things like dates, anniversaries, etc.
but izuku being that person that’s always like “i have to keep training and training to master this quirk!”
he might have gotten.. overboard with the training. making him completely forget about the entire occassion.
during days like this, he’ll try to split his time by training for 2 hours and studying for the same amount
but homeboy got distracted 💀
too distracted to the point he didn’t even look at the clock once
and now it’s nearly 5pm (y’all were supposed to have lunch at 12)
when he heads out to go get a glass of water in the kitchen, he runs into bakugou on the way
bakugou looked displeased. and he hasn’t seen him look this displeased since middle school
“aren’t you forgetting something?” he says that in his usual tone, and izuku can only stare at him questioning
“your shitty thing with y/n. they walked in here looking like someone shat in their cereal.”
oh no
how could he.. forget?
izuku immediately storms off to your floor, knocking on your door
“y/n? y/n, can we please talk?” his heart is racing with worry, and he’s not even sure if you’re gonna answer the door
you begrudgingly open the door, but you’re not facing him— you’re still dressed in the clothes you wore going out
and it looks like you’ve been crying
“dear,” izuku wants to console you, but you don’t want to recieve his hugs right now— especially after he stood you up
“this is our only day off, izuku.” you try to make your voice sound normal, but it’s not really working
“i know, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i forgot about the entire thing while i was training, and i know i made you feel bad. i’m just so sorry.” he apologizes to you over and over again
you don’t look at him, so he cups your face with his calloused hands—
his touch soft on you as he wipes your tears “please talk to me.”
you huff, “i know how much you want to train your quirk, and be the best at all times. i’m not mad that you want to do that, but i just wished you spent time with me, even if it’s just for a minute.”
izuku listens, and you’re right. you guys haven’t been the best with quality time,
and it wasn’t fair of him to just go out and suddenly forget the date he arranged.
“i’m sorry.”
“stop apologizing,” you sigh, “just bring some snacks so we can watch that movie you’ve been raving about.”
his expression lights up, and he dashes downstairs to retrieve the items
oh and.. how bakugou knows about y’all’s date? he totally suggested it
togata mirio
mirio has always been the best boyfriend for you
never forgetting anything, infact- he’s usually the one that’s always early to the dates
because he’s so excited to hang out with you!
but because of his quite friendly nature, he’s practically a chick magnet
girls swarming him whenever they could, doesn’t even matter that they don’t have to date him— they just want to talk to him
and while he’s nice to these girls, he’s not disloyal to you at all— and that’s why you don’t mind it,
because you trust him
okay but.. you don’t mind it when girls swarm your boyfriend, until it gets in the way
like.. one time he was supposed to be at a date with you— but he got surprised by a bunch of girls
and not wanting to be rude to them, he entertained them
and he considered cutting the conversation short but.. they just kept going and going
until he’s an hour late. y’all were supposed to get lunch together.
eventually, the girls go away— which so happened to be around the time tamaki and nejire started looking for him.
“mirio!” nejire called out for him, tamaki right next to her “how was the— wait, did you have lunch with y/n?”
mirio blinks, and that’s when he realizes that he messed up.
tamaki sighs, and he can only pat his shoulder— “mirio, i k-know you’re a nice guy, but don’t let yourself get distracted.”
nejire can only agree, “afterall, y/n’s the one you’re dating, not those other people.”
they urge him to go find you, and when he does find you— you’re sitting on a bench, not looking amused at all.
“hi mirio,” you deadpan, “how were those girls you were talking to?”
mirio knows he messed up, he really does! “i’m so sorry, y/n!” he tries to explain himself “they got me.. carried away.”
“mirio, i know that you’re nice. i let them talk to you because i trust you. but when you go out and do things like this.. it’s strange! really.”
you want to not be angry, since this was bound to happen— possibly the day where mirio just forgets about you entirely
“i’m really sorry.” he sighs, disappointed with himself, “i really love you, and i’ll only ever date you! but i should’ve dismissed them much earlier.”
your gaze softens, and you cup his cheek with your hand “it’s okay, mirio. i’ll let it be just this once, but please promise me that it won’t happen again.”
mirio nods “yes, yes! i promise. it’ll never happen again.” he smiles, reassuring you
“now let’s get something to eat. i haven’t eaten yet.”
“right, right.” mirio laughs, the tense atmosphere dissipating
mirio tries to be more direct with dismissing them from now on, especially when he has to be somewhere with you.
—
©️izukulie 2021, bnha|mha belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not steal❕
#bnha x reader#bnha x you#mha x reader#bnha x y/n#bnha headcanons#mha x you#mha headcanons#midoriya izuku x reader#midoriya x reader#midoriya x you#midoriya x y/n#midoriya imagines#todoroki shouto x reader#todoroki shouto x y/n#todoroki shouto x you#todoroki x y/n#todoroki x reader#todoroki imagines#todoroki x you#midoriya izuku x y/n#togata mirio x y/n#togata mirio x reader#togata x reader#togata mirio x you#togata imagines#🖋epiphany.writes
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Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century
AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.
Fics Masterlist
Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)
Summary:
“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”
Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing:
1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do."
2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?"
3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.
without further ado:
It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.
And what a proposal it was.
Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.
While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.
To each their own and let’s move on.
The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.
So that was how the proposal went.
Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.
Perfect.
As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.
No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.
She needed a date.
She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.
“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.
“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.
“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”
Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.
“Actually I do.”
“Pardon?”
“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”
“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?
“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.
“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”
“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”
“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”
“Green eyes with daddy issues.”
“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.
“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”
“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.
“Adrien.”
“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”
“Felix.”
“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”
“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”
Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”
“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”
“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”
“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.
What could go wrong?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.
“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”
“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”
“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”
“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”
“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”
“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”
“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”
“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”
“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”
“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”
“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”
The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.
‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.
“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.
“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.
“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.
“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”
“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”
“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”
“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.
Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.
A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.
“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.
“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”
“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”
“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.
“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”
“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”
“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”
“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.
The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.
“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”
“A what?”
“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”
“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”
He scoffs before answering. Bitch.
“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”
“...And you are?”
“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.
A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.
“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.
“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.
She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.
The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.
The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.
Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.
“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.
“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.
A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.
“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?
“So.”
“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”
“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”
“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”
“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”
“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”
“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”
The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.
As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.
You were right, I do have a type :(
#maribat#daminette#maridami#mgi trope tussle#mgi- server event#enemies to lovers#speedrun#i#like a dumbass challenged myself to use three prompts and i delivered#i hope#i hope yall enjoy#tumblr do me a solid#dont hide my posts#please#im begging#ml x dc#mlb x dc#tumblr please stop hiding my posts#no beta this is tussle
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Abusive boyfriend w/ Midoriya, Bakugou and Todoroki
Request: Can I have deku, bakugo and Todoroki reacting to the readers unhealthy boyfriend. He brings her down a lot and abusive. - anonymous
Being part of a toxic relationship is so so soooo painful. Thankfully reader-chan has her heroes to save her. Hope you like it. Love ya.💖💖💖
masterlist
rules
warnings: abuse both physical and mental, ptsd and panic attacks, cursing, characters are aged up (they have graduated)
Midoriya Izuku
-Okay so he basically was the one who managed to build your confidence back up after the horrendous break up with your ex.
-Your ex never laid a hand on you but his words were enough to bruise your ego and self worth so much that you believed that you were nothing compared to others.
-From looks to personality, you believed that even a snail was more worth it than you.
-Now you are a beautiful girl and very very smart.
-Guys and girls looked your way even though you were in a relationship.
-And your ex was having none of it.
-It started off really subtly.
- “Are you sure you want to wear that to dinner?”
- “We are going to grab some coffee not going out for drinks.”
- “Don’t you think you are showing too much skin?”
-Then the body shaming started.
- “I think you shouldn’t wear that, I mean look how large it makes you look.”
- “Have you been eating more?”
- “How about I make a diet for you?”
-This really brought you down.
-It reached the point where you would only wear really baggy hoodies in order to hide your body.
-After that turning point he still wasn’t satisfied.
-People, although fewer than before, still had the nerve to hit on you and it was getting on his nerve.
-He started belittling you in front of friends and acquaintances, destroying your already fragile confidence.
-He had dug you a grave and sugarcoated the casket with empty I love you’s.
-He had made you believe that he was the only one who would accept you and love you despite you’re so flawed.
-And he managed to keep you for quite some time.
-Then Midoriya comes along.
-A childhood friend who had become a pro hero and on the top five.
-He saw how skinny you had become, borderline unhealthy, how you shied away from him and literally everyone.
-You were like a scared deer.
-Then the boyfriend came in and everything fell into place.
-Midoriya is smart, he caught on your boyfriend’s belittlement and the reason behind it.
-Now getting you out of this toxic relationship is his new mission.
-You ran into him more often after that first encounter and he always talked to you, complimenting you whenever he could.
-Your boyfriend didn’t catch on until it was too late.
-Midoriya had managed to get you to talk about your relationship and what your boyfriend was like, he had opened your eyes to his abuse and helped you built up the courage to stand up to him and dump his ass.
-He was there of course to support you after the break up.
-And of course after months and months of seeing each other almost everyday, you two became a thing.
-Finally you get to experience true love with someone who truly appreciates you.
Bakugou Katsuki
-You and Bakugou have been friends since high school.
-Inseparable.
-He comes to you for everything, all his troubles are solved by you and you alone.
-You’re special!!
-So when you get a boyfriend he is the first to meet the guy.
-In truth he really didn’t want to because he has been in lobe with you for the longest time and seeing you with someone else reminds him that he is a coward.
-Anyway he meets him and everything is fine, he looks decent and he seems to treat you well.
-As months pass you seem to distance yourself more and more from him.
-Bakugou at first is angry, he is fuming I tell you.
-He doesn’t like the silence that he receives when he calls, or the single word replies when he texts and he especially despises your refusal to go out with him like you used to.
-He gets that you have a boyfriend now and you have to spend more time with your bf but he still felt betrayed.
-Then doubt started to settle in his mind.
-Maybe you realized he wasn’t worth the trouble, I mean he is a difficult person, maybe your new boyfriend opened your eyes and now you want nothing to do with him.
-Or maybe you figured out he was in love with you.
-Had he been scowling more than usual while he was meeting your boyfriend?
-He wanted to ask you what he did wrong but he couldn’t reach you.
-So he sucked it up and drowned himself in his hero work, drowning his nagging mind along with his free time.
-Then something unexpected happened.
-Uraraka visited him, worry written all over her face.
-She was worried for you and wanted to ask him if everything was alright, since he was your best friend.
- “She stopped showing up to our weekly girl evening and she won’t answer my texts.... I’m really worried for her Bakugou.”
-That was the last straw for him.
-He went to your apartment and after five minutes of knocking your boyfriend opened the door.
-The scowls on the guy’s face was really REALLY pushing his buttons.
- “Is Y/N here?”
- “What do you want her for?”
- “I want to talk to her.”
-This man..... he closed the door in Bakugou’s face.
-Well closed is putting it mildly.
-He slammed the door shut with so much force that a mirror down the hall rattled.
-Bakugou was ready to blow the door open when he heard the shouts.
- “Y/N why the fuck is that guy here?”
- “W-what guy?”
- “Don’t act all innocent you slut! The guy you are fucking!”
- “I-I don’t k-know who y-you are talking a-about.”
-The moment he heard your sniffles echo through the door he was inside the apartment shoving the guy away from you.
- “Don’t you fucking dare speak to her like that, asshole.”
-You were trembling behind him and Bakugou could feel the sob threatening to escape your lips.
-Looking over his shoulder at you he spoke gently as if you were a scared kitten.
- “Y/N could you go get some of your stuff ready? I’m taking you away from this dickhead.”
- “Who do you think you are? That’s MY girlfriend she listens to me alone!”
- “Don’t speak as if she’s an object!”
-You had disappeared to your room to get your things and were now clinging to Bakugou’s back.
- “So you are fucking him. What should I have expected from a whore like you!”
-Okay now Bakugou was presented with two options.
-Option A: beat the living shit out of this guy and most likely losing his hero license for a week.
-Option B: get you out of here and let this asshole boil in his own defeat.
-He went with option B.
-Wordlessly he guided you out of your apartment complex and into his car, drove you to his house and proceeded to help you calm down.
-You had had one panic attack in the past so he didn’t really know what to do.
-But he managed.
- “Whatever he said to you isn’t true. I don’t know what actually went down between you two and what he got into the pretty little head of your but none of that matters. Just know that we are all here for you. Me, the girls even stupid Deku. And we love you, I love you so don’t worry about anything. Everything will be alright.”
-From that point on everything was history.
-It didn’t take long for you two to start dating and Bakugou made sure to have a firm talk with your now ex boyfriend when you ran into him at the grocery store.
-Get wrecked douchebag.
Todoroki Shouto
-Toxic relationships is something Todoroki is a pro at this point.
-He grew up in one so yeah.
-He sees the signs of the abuse faster than anyone.
-First of all, you inch away from anyone who starts flaying their arms.
-Despite the warm weather you always wear long sleeves.
-And he has seen you applying extra make up around your eye once.
-He also notices how you always try to avoid annoying your boyfriend, like you take extreme measures.
-You distance yourself from other males going as far as to avoid him to an extent.
-Then he sees the bruises.
-You two were training at the agency’s gym when your shirt rode up your torso and there was this huge bruise right under your ribs.
- “Y/N who did this?”
- “Oh I just got slightly injured during my last patrol.”
-He isn’t buying it since he was with you during your last patrol and you didn’t get injured.
-But he lets it slide because he believes that you know whats best for you and you will get away from this guy.
-But for some reason you stay with him.
-For months.
-And Todo can’t take it anymore.
- “Y/N can I talk to you?”
-He talks to you about what he has seen and that he knows that your boyfriend is doing this to you.
- “So please, please leave him, get out while you can. Y/N I can’t see you hurt like this.”
-You see the thing was that you had made the stupid decision of moving in with him and now.... you had nowhere to go.
-If you broke up with him you wouldn’t have a place to stay and you couldn’t start searching for a new place, he traces your phone and search history.
- “You’ll live with me. I’ll give you everything you need just please please let go of him. He doesn’t deserve you. I hate seeing you so hurt and broken.”
- “Please come with me then, Shouto I-I can’t do this alone.”
-Of course he came with you, standing in between you and that asshole as he went to strike you when you broke the news to him.
- “You are leaving me for this piece of shit huh? Of course you would you whore!”
-He went as far as activating his quirk, attacking Shouto in an attempt to get to you.
- “I own you you fucking slut! No one will want you! You are mine!”
-Shouto wasn’t as calm as Bakugou in this situation, punching the guy before leaving the apartment, making sure that the guy got the message and wouldn’t try to come after you.
-Back at his apartment, Shouto comforted you as best he could.
-You know where this leads.
-Shouto gives you the space you need before making a move.
-My mans waits months before even remotely flirting with you.
-After a year long wait he finally manages to ask you out.
-And the rest is history.
TAG TEAM AY:
@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @dnarez-mangetsu @reinyrei @bemorefiction
#midoriya izuku#midoriya x reader#midoriya x y/n#midoriya x you#deku x you#deku x reader#deku x y/n#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki#todoroki x reader#todoroki x you#todoroki x y/n#shouto x reader#shouto todoroki#bnha#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha x y/n
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Hi! So I've been reading a lot of you stuff, and it's great! And I was wondering if you could do a Jess Mariano x reader where the reader helps Jess get over Rory. And Jess realizes that he's already in love with the reader? If not, it's fine.
Thank you!!
Summary: Everyday since Jess and Rory broke up, Jess has gone to sit on the bridge. Everyday, you join him and sit together until, one day, he breaks the silence.
Warnings: Language, this is kinda angsty. Like it ends on a positive note because you know he realizes he loves the Reader but like this isn’t intense fluff.
Words: 1.3k
A/N: Thank you!! And yes of course, I hope you like this! Also, your request was so sweet and polite, I really appreciate that :). I know that this doesn’t strictly stick to canon, but I thought this made more sense. Moreover, I just love writing Gilmore Girls when it’s set in Stars Hollow. Anyway, I hope all that’s okay <3
Oh one more thing! I’m really tired rn and I formatted this super rushed so if something’s off or I forgot something...whoops
(gif not mine)
It had been a month since Rory broke his heart. Jess Mariano still visited the bridge everyday, sitting there, legs hanging over the water, disposition more solemn than you’ve ever seen. You hated seeing him like this-- his light, sarcastic remarks had become cruel and acerbic. Some days, you barely recognized him. Despite this, he was still your best friend and you knew that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t give up on you either.
Lost in thought, you allowed your legs to subconsciously carry you to the bridge, as they did every other night. Jess was illuminated by the moon, the cold, Connecticut air ruffling through his hair. You came and wordlessly sat next to him, something he’d grown to expect.
Every time started the same. You’d sit down and just be there with him, keeping him in silent company for the first fifteen minutes. He could talk if he wanted to but almost never did. Sometimes, he’d take your hand and play with your fingers. Sometimes, he’d notice you were cold and wrap his jacket around you. Sometimes, your eyes would briefly meet and you’d give him a reassuring smile.
Then, you always asked if he wanted to talk about it. Usually he’d just shake his head. Occasionally, he’d complain about her, saying he deserved better and that she was a terrible girlfriend. Occasionally, he’d complain about himself, asking why he was so broken that he had to fuck up the one good relationship he’d ever been in. He never cried. At least, not in front of you.
Expecting the same as every prior encounter, you walked up and sat next to him.
“Hi,” He greeted, catching you off guard.
You made sure to scale back your reaction, not wanting to scare him off with a huge response. “Hey.”
Jess wordlessly got up and held a hand out to you. Taking it, you allowed him to stand you up and pull you into his chest. He buried his face in your neck, tears running down his cheeks. As sobs were pulled from his body, you gently rocked him back and forth, trying to pour every ounce of comfort you had into him.
Eventually, Jess pulled back and, without meeting your gaze, returned and sat down on the bridge. You followed. You took a risk, opting to rub your hand up and down his back, letting him know you were still here and encouraging him to share, if needed.
“Why do you still come here?”
You looked at him, confused. “What?”
“Why do you still come here?” He repeated, finally meeting your eyes. “All I do is sit here, silently. So why do you still come here? I know you have shit you could be doing”
“Because you’re my best friend. Because you’re in pain. Because you have a tendency to shut the entire world out and I’m not going to let you plunge into darkness.”
“I just don’t understand how it all got so fucked up. It was fine! Rory and I were fine! And then it all just got screwed up and now I’m here and she’s gone and it’ll never be the same again!” His voice broke, anger and pain evident in his voice.
“Hey!” You said, voice strong. “You’re going to be alright, Jess. I know you loved her, I know. But your life isn’t over just because she isn’t in it anymore. Please, you know how much she meant to you, but you have to start looking forward. You’ll never get past this if you keep clinging onto what could have been.”
“Fuck, I know that! I do! I just- I really thought we would work out, you know?”
Your gaze softened. Jess wasn’t always the easiest to talk to but pretty much no one ever saw this level of vulnerability with him. As he spoke, he realized this, too. He was never more honest, more open, than when he was with you.
“I know you did. I thought you would, too.” It killed you to not scream ‘I’m right here!’ as he talked about his failed relationship. But you wouldn’t do that to him right now. He needed a friend, not someone dumping all these romantic feelings on him. Besides, you’d grown accustomed to swallowing your feelings for him. You realized long ago that he’d never like you back and you much preferred to have him in your life, even as only a friend, than lose him altogether.
Jess and you slipped back into that silence you were so accustomed to. He thought about the last month, about what a shit friend he’d been to you. He was beating himself up mentally, stuck in this unhealthy spiral. He knew you didn’t deserve it but he felt like if he pushed you away, you’d be better off. Further, he was trying to punish himself; isolating from you was the most painful consequence of all.
He took a breath, the gravity of everything settling on him. He realized how good you’ve been, how you’d sacrificed countless hours to simply keep him company. How you spent your energy ensuring he didn’t let himself drown completely. How he could turn to you always. How you were the kindest person he’d ever met. How you were the only person he’d allowed himself to trust on an emotional level. How your displays of affection made him feel safe. How you respected his boundaries and never forced him to talk about anything. How you just understood.
Shit, He thought, I’m fucking in love with Y/N.
Instead of telling you that, Jess started off by breaking the silence one more by thanking you.
“For what?” You wondered.
“Everything. I dunno, being you, I guess.” You looked at him quizzically, lips threatening to curl into a laugh and his inability to convey his thoughts.
“Just accept the ‘thank you’ alright?” Jess continued, defensively.
“You’re welcome.” Despite your smirk, your words were sincere. It truly did mean a lot to you that he’d come to you.
Somehow, this boy continued to surprise you. Suddenly, his lips were on yours and, being stunned, you froze. Jess pulled back immediately, an apology written all over his face. Before he could get it out, though, it was like your brain started working again and you pulled him back in. He smiled into the kiss, a relieved sigh passing through the both of you. You could hardly believe this was happening but you weren’t going to question it, it’s all you’ve wanted for so long.
Your heart was racing as you pulled away. You looked at him, no idea what comes next.
“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N”
Your mind went blank. Even though you had no idea what was going to happen after the kiss, you hadn’t even entertained the notion of him being in love with you.
You scrambled to find something to say but he cut you off. “It’s alright, you don’t need to respond. I just, I wanted you to know. I think that I was too stupid to realize it before, I mean I was so obsessed with trying to figure out what went wrong with Rory. I didn’t even think about moving on and then I guess we were talking and I realized…”
He trailed off but you knew the meaning of his pauses. Collecting yourself, you decided it was your turn to say something. “I think I’m in love with you, too. Actually, I know I’m in love with you. And I have been for a really long time, I just didn’t want to mess everything up. I love our friendship, I don’t want to lose you if we start dating and something happens.”
“You won’t. Nothing’s gonna happen.” He said it with such certainty, you couldn’t help yourself. You believed him.
------
join my taglist, if you so desire
jess tags:
@serpntines
#megan writes#jess mariano x reader#jess mariano imagines#jess mariano x you#jess mariano x y/n#jess mariano x gn!reader#jess mariano x gender neutral reader#jess mariano fanfic#jess mariano fanfiction#jess mariano angst#gilmore girls x reader#gilmore girls imagines#gilmore girls fanfiction
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ASMR - chapter 2
Elriel fanfiction
About this fic:
Azriel can’t sleep
Elain has an ASMR channel
Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)
______________________________
Since a few people seemed to enjoy the first chapter, I decided to continue this story.
You can find the first chapter here
And you can read the story on AO3 here.
_______________________________
CHAPTER 2
Flower Girl ASMR 1 day ago
I am so happy that I could help you sleep, @Shadowsinger <3
ASMR stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. It is that tingly feeling you might get from certain sounds. You can also have visual triggers. Supposedly, if you find the right triggers, they will help you relax and they can even help you sleep.
I hope that sleep treats you with kindness from now on.
Azriel stared at his screen. She had responded. She had actually responded to his message. He had scrolled through her comment section again to see if she replied to all her messages, but she didn’t. She liked most comments, but she only replied to a few. It made him feel special, which was absurd. Why did he feel special because some girl on the internet had replied to his comment? She had probably already forgotten about it.
But Azriel carried it with him for the rest of the day.
He also carried with him the annoyance of some of the comments he had seen. This girl really needed to learn how to block some words. Especially: boobs, nudes, cock, jerk off, and cum. Azriel made a disgusted face when he thought about it. If they knew each other, he would help her with that.
But they didn’t know each other, so Azriel didn’t have to think about it. Those comments shouldn’t affect Azriel in the slightest. He had read way nastier things on the internet and never cared.
What was it about this girl?
Azriel was sitting at his desk. He was working at Velaris Times – a web-based newspaper that his best friend Rhysand had started a few years ago. He hired Azriel to work in IT and their other friend, Cassian, as a photographer. It was a pretty small newspaper, so they all felt like family there.
Azriel was feeling naturally energized for the first time in his life. He didn’t even need to down his usual three cups of coffee this morning. Cassian was sitting next to him, editing some photos for an article that their co-worker Mor had written.
“You wanna grab some lunch later?” Cassian asked.
Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave his computer, but he nodded in agreement. “Sure. Should we invite Rhys?”
Cassian snorted. “Nah, he’s on that weird health-cleanse, remember? Feyre probably packed him a kale juice and some broccoli.”
Azriel chuckled. Feyre was Rhys’s wife and since they decided to get pregnant, she had been all about healthy eating, to Rhysand’s dismay. He wasn’t even allowed coffee - it was all about the green tea! Some days, Cassian and Azriel ate their lunches at the office which always lead to Rhys staring longingly at their food. It felt like having a dog begging for scraps underneath the dinner table.
“So that’s still going on, huh? I thought he would have given up by now. There’s only that much kale you can eat,” Azriel said.
“Yeah, but he’s whipped. Remember when they first started dating and she served him soup from a can and he ate it like it was a gourmet meal.”
“Fair enough.”
“You know that I can hear you, assholes?” Rhys called from his office. They had been very aware of this fact. Rhys strode out of his office, wearing his usual uniform of a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. Azriel was happy that he worked in IT so he could get away with just wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt - and maybe a hoodie on cold days.
“Are you telling me that Nesta doesn’t have you wrapped around her little finger?” Rhys smirked and leaned against the doorframe.
Cassians ears turned red. “She could never get me to drink kale-smoothies every day.”
Rhys shook his head. “You were pining for her for two years before she even agreed to go on a date with you. She could probably tie you to your bed and get you to call her mistress if she wanted to.”
Cassian leaned back in his chair and gave Rhys a purely male grin. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows.
“Oh for fucks sake,” Azriel groaned. “Too much information, Cass.”
Cassian shrugged. “Don’t be so sensitive, Az.”
Azriel glared at him. “I’m not sensitive just because I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“That’s because you don’t have a sex life,” Cassian muttered under his breath, which elicited a burst of laughter that sounded more like a snort from Rhys.
Azriel shook his head and tried to concentrate on his work, which was almost impossible when his two friends were still staring at him. He could almost feel them scheming.
“Hey, Az. How’s the dating going?” Rhys asked.
Azriel didn’t answer, mostly because the answer would be that it didn’t. He didn’t date. He was tired of going on dates with people he didn’t know. He wasn’t very talkative, so dates were basically his nightmare. And it was even worse when he agreed to download Tinder on a drunken night a few months ago. Dating like that just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to meet someone on the internet like that.
“You want me to set you up on a blind date?” Cassian asked, and Azriel pretended not to hear him.
“Nesta has some great friends,” he continued. “What about Gwyn?”
Rhys nodded. “Yeah, Gwyn is a nice girl.”
Azriel stared at his friends. “I’ve met Gwyn.”
“So?”
“If I’ve already met her, it’s not a blind date.”
Cassian thought about it for a second and shrugged. “Eh, semantics. Should I tell Nesta to give her a call?”
“No. She’s not my type.”
Truthfully, Gwyn was a very sweet girl. She was cute and funny and determined, but she just wasn’t for Azriel. They had met a few times but there had been no attraction - no sparks. Azriel wanted to feel something from the start. He didn’t want to be in a relationship just to avoid being lonely.
“So, what is your type exactly?” Rhys asked.
An image popped into Azriel’s head. Usually, he couldn’t imagine what his type would be, but now, he saw someone in his mind. She had golden hair and cute little freckles on her nose. She was gentle, kind and calm.
It was Flower Girl ASMR.
Azriel closed his eyes, trying to get the picture of her out of his head. What was wrong with him? He didn’t want to date someone he had only seen in a few videos. That made him as creepy as those assholes in her comment section. He didn’t even know her. He didn’t even know her name.
“I don’t know,” Azriel muttered. “Could you please let me get back to my work?”
And after a few more suggestions of people they could set him up with (he kindly, but firmly, declined), they finally let him work.
That night, Flower Girl ASMR was hosting a livestream on YouTube. Azriel wondered if they might live in the same time zone since the live stream seemed to coincide with a reasonable bedtime for him.
Azriel joined the livestream just a few minutes after it had started. A few hundred people were already logged in. Flower Girl ASMR was sitting in front of a background that looked like the night sky; dark blue and full of fairy lights. Her hair hung in waves around her face and she was wearing a pink top that matched her complexion. Not that Azriel noticed such things, why would he?
She was brushing her camera with a make-up brush, making it look as if she was brushing his face. “I am so happy that you all could join me here tonight,” she whispered into her microphone. “As promised, I was going to host my first livestream when we reached one hundred thousand subscribers, which we did last week.” She smiled at the camera, one of those smiles that reached her eyes. Azriel could feel himself smile back. Which was stupid. She couldn’t see him. “Tonight, you can make requests or ask questions in the comments, and I will answer a few of your questions,” she continued. She was still moving the brush over the screen. The combination of her whispering voice and the visual trigger of the brush made Azriel tingle all over.
Most comments were very nice; telling her that she helped them sleep, or wanting her to say hello to them. People asked her about her favorite color and if she had any pets (lilac and no). One person asked her to do something called hand sounds, and Azriel had never in his life appreciated hands rubbing together as much as he did at that very moment. Maybe it was something with the setting on her microphone, but the sound was like a wave of pleasure in his brain.
He could feel himself relax. But then, of course, the nasty comments started.
HybernCoolKid
Show a little skin babyyyy. Those tits look perky af
MortalGraysen
Trying to look so innocent when you’re a fucking slut
Amarantha_utm
I would honestly rather watch paint dry
Azriel could feel his blood boil. He recognized the names from the video he had watched last night. Why didn’t she just block them? On the screen, he could tell that Flower Girl had seen the messages; her face fell for just a second. And one second was all it took for Azriel to suddenly feel very protective. He was just about to go tell them to go fuck themselves when he saw that he wasn’t the only one with that idea. The comment section was flooded with love for her and in just a matter of moments, the mean comments were drowned in a sea of heart emojis. Flower Girl smiled at the screen, silently thanking all of her followers for the love. But she didn’t address the hate. She just kept going as if nothing had happened. There were a few more nasty comments during the livestream, but the same thing happened every time; her followers love-bombed her. Azriel was happy to see that most people seemed decent enough, but god, she really needed to learn how to block people.
Before he could think about it, he clicked the link in her description that led to her Instagram. Her username was the same on that app, and it was mainly used to tell her followers when a new video was uploaded. Azriel quickly looked at his own feed, making sure that there was nothing embarrassing. There wasn’t. He didn’t post very often, and when he did he usually posted pictures of food.
He clicked the button for her DMs, and before he could talk himself out of it, he wrote her a message.
Shadowsinger
Hey! I just watched your livestream (it was great!) but I couldn’t help but notice some really rude comments. I hope you don’t find this weird, but have you tried blocking them? If you don’t know how, I could send you a link that will describe how to do it. God, this is weird, isn’t it? If this message makes you uncomfortable, just delete it. I’m sorry. But if you need help with blocking those douchebags, please tell me.
He sent it without even reading it and as soon as it was out in cyberspace, he groaned. What the fuck was he doing? She wasn’t his friend. She wasn’t his anything. Yet, there was something that drew him to her. Maybe it was the fact that she helped him sleep? Yes, that had to be it. It was either that or witchcraft, and Azriel didn’t believe in the occult.
Azriel was just about to put his phone in another room and go die from embarrassment when he saw that she had answered his DM. He was afraid to open it. What if she told him to fuck off? He would never be able to watch her videos again, and then he would never again feel rested.
FlowerGirlAsmr
Hello! I recognized your username from one of my videos!
I’m happy that you enjoyed the livestream :) I have blocked them multiple times, but they keep coming back. But thank you for offering to help me. That is very sweet!
Ps: The lasagna on your feed looks delicious.
Azriel stared at the message dumbfounded. She had answered him. And she didn’t tell him to fuck off. She had remembered his username. And she thought that his food looked delicious. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so nervous. Should he tell her that after watching her video he had the best night’s sleep of his life?
Probably not. That might sound creepy.
Shadowsinger
Yeah, I commented last night. Have you tried blocking words from appearing in your comments? If you did that, you might not have to endure such nasty comments.
(Yes, the lasagna was very delicious)
He was staring at his message. Did he sound stupid?
Yeah, he definitely sounded stupid. The lasagna was very delicious ? Why did he add that?
Stupid, stupid, stupid
But despite his stupidity, she answered.
FlowerGirlASMR
You can do that?? I had no idea! I am not very good at computers. Honestly, I have to google every single thing about YouTube because I understand nothing, haha. How do I block words?
Shadowsinger
I’ll send you a link that describes the process!
He sent her the link and waited for a few minutes, feeling happy to help her.
FlowerGirlASMR
I hope you don’t think I’m stupid, but I understood absolutely nothing :(
Is there a link for dummies?
Azriel laughed at the last part of her message.
Shadowsinger
Unfortunately not. But if you want, I could help you.
She didn’t answer him for a while after that. Azriel was staring at his phone, trying to will a message to appear. Did he cross a line?
FlowerGirlASMR
I won’t give you the details to my account. We don’t know each other.
Oh god. She thought that he was trying to scam her or something. Fuck.
Shadowsinger
I don’t need to log into your account.
He sent the message quickly.
Shadowsinger
I could guide you if you like? I work in IT so I’m used to just guiding people through these things.
FlowerGirlASMR
How could we do that? I’m not very good at understanding instructions when they are written…
Azriel had an idea and it was both brilliant and idiotic. He typed quickly before the logical part of his brain told him to stop helping this girl he didn’t know.
Shadowsinger
I could give you my number and guide you through the phone? I could share my screen with you so you could follow along like that if you are more of a visual learner. You could call me with a hidden number.
He added the last sentence to make her feel safer. And because he didn’t trust himself to have access to her number.
Again, he had to wait for a small eternity before her message popped up.
FlowerGirlASMR
That would be great! Could I call you tomorrow at 10.00?
He didn’t even check his schedule before typing “Yes.”
She answered with a smiley.
Azriel sent her his number and she said that she would call, and that was that.
“What the fuck am I doing?” Azriel muttered to himself and got back to bed.
He opened the youtube app, and one of her videos was the first one he saw. His finger hovered above the video. Would it be weird to watch her now that they had messaged each other? He decided to click another ASMR video instead. And then another. And then another.
After 2 hours, he realized that all ASMR was not equal.
So he gave in and clicked on one of her videos. Flower Girl ASMR’s face filled his screen. “Hello my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered, and Azriel thought that she was the loveliest person he had ever seen.
Five minutes later, he was fast asleep.
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WHEN I STOP BREATHING..
pairings! ushijima x reader
summary! sitting on the beach, so close to each other they can hear each other’s heartbeats. They both smile and they watch the world end right in front of them, reminiscing on all they’ve been through together. Why does the end of the world look so beautiful?
genre! angst
word count! didnt bother actually counting so ill estimate maybe 2000+
warnings! end of the world, death, murder mention, slight ooc ushijima idk its the end of the world so pff
a/n! uh idk i wanna hurt people, sorry if this is bad i havent written in a while :p i feel like the beginning was really good, the middle was ass and the end was okay but hoh im happy enough w this. I also cried writing this ngl lmaoo also did not fix any errors so my bad
You knew it was coming, you both did. New reports, articles, it was trending on all social media platforms. It was unavoidable, what could you do but waste away your last few days, watching old shows you watched as a kid, harsh knocks and cries from your doors from friends and family. You couldnt face them, you just wanted to drown out the thought of what was coming the next few hours of the day.
You had woken up and sluggishly dragged yourself from the comfort of your bed to your dirty kitchen, littered with dirty dishes and some uneaten food that youd try to make, but didn't have the stomach to eat. Your phone rang atleast every hour or two, many unanswered calls and long voicemails you couldnt bother to listen to.
There was a knock on your door, and you sighed, not wanting to bother with facing the person at the door. You turned on your heels, about to head to your room when you heard the voice call out to you.
"y/n."
Out of all the people why did it have to be him. You bit your lip and let out shaky breaths. You took another step, freezing at another set of knocks. The last persom you wanted to see was your boyfriend.
"y/n let me in or ill tear this door down." His voice was stern, laced with seriousness and slight concern. You wanted to open it, let him in and crumble into his arms, but it hurt so bad.
"Go away." You spoke, loud enough to be heard through the door, but not loud enough to be a yell.
"y/n."
You hesitantly walked to the door, unlocking the bottom lock, the top lock remaining unlocked, too bothersome for you to have delt with anyways. At the sound of the click of the locks he opened the door with quick motions, while also being careful not to knock you over.
At the sight of his big frame you felt like the world had just stabbed you through the chest 28 times. You backed up with quick steps are your boyfriend reached out to hug you, scared that his touch would break down your facade. You tripped over your own feet, landing hard on your butt.
"Ush.. Ushijima," you started, not knowing exactly what you were trying to say, "Please dont touch me."
His heart sank when he saw you, lifeless and so frail. He guessed you havent been getting much sleep- or maybe too much sleep, and not eating as he took a quick glance towards the food littered kitchen counter.
It wasnt any better for you, seeing your normally cold and calm boyfriend with a worried expression and eye bags that made it obvious he hasnt got much sleep either.
You pull yourself up, your eyes boring through your boyfriends abdomen as you bit your lip, trying to think of what to say, and to also keep yourself from falling apart. "What do you want?"
"y/n. Dont be cold to me." It wasnt a question, but it wasnt a demand. "Sorry," you mumbled, leaving you two in silence for a while.
"Ushi, you should go home," you said, feeling your heart race, every second you spent in his presence, under his gaze, killed you. "You should call Tendou or something."
"Toshi." He said, making your head shoot up, looking him in his eyes, seeing a tear roll down his cheek, his face remaining mostly emotionless, fear slightly present in his eyes. "Please keep calling me Toshi."
You felt a pang in your heart, suddenly the reality of things hitting you. You were the only one going through this, you knew this but never gave it more than a mere thought. He was scared, he didnt know what he was doing, he just knew to find comfort in you, like youve told him to for many years into your relationship.
"Toshi," you breathed, reaching up to wipe the tear from his cheek, "Toshi lets go somewhere."
You never felt the need to go outside, wanting to be isolated, but being here with your boyfriend, you felt like running away, wanting to escape from the dark pit of your home. "Lets go to the beach"
"y/n–"
"Lets go. Lets go, right.. right now Toshi," you felt as if though youve felt shoked by lightning, like you suddenly got hit with some sugar rush.
"We dont have time–"
"We do Toshi, we do, we do," you saw the corner of his lips raise up into a small smile. He hated seeing you like this but he was glad you were more alive than you were minutes before. You knew this, what he was thinking, and you knew his smile had so much sadness behind it, "we have time, lets go, lets go!"
You grabbed his hand and dragged him out of your apartment, not bothering to change from your days out clothing or close the door behind you. It wouldnt matter in another hour anyways.
The ride there was mostly silent, songs playing quietly on the radio. You watched as you passed through the town, the streets were slightly empty, stores looked run down, some stores even tore up and empty.
"Has it been like this since.. since the announcement?" You mumbled, earning a hum for Ushijima.
"Yeah, yeah it has." He knew that you didnt go out, and he was slightly grateful for it. The world went to shit after the announcement, many lootings, murders and other various crimes being commited.
"Im glad your safe Toshi," you spoke into your palm.
"Im glad your safe too."
The ride went on in silence until you got to the beach. You both climbed out of the car, the beautiful blue sea sparkling under the sunny sky. It was funny how such a depressing day could look so so beautiful.
"Hmm, this is the beach we went to with the team our senior year, remember?" He asked and turned to face you. The fear in his eyes was much more evident in the light, along with signs of personal neglict. He hasnt been taking good care of himself either.
You walk around the front of the car to grab his hand, your small hands tracing light circles on his rough palms before linking your hands together, giving him a comforting squeeze. "I remember."
He let out a shaky breath he didnt know he was holding in, and you two found a nice spot on the beach to sit and watch the sky. "Toshi, do you remember the time goshiki got gummy bears stuck in his nose?"
He looked at you, and his face softened, "yeah. Yeah i do." He let out a small chuckle at the thought of his old teammates. "Do you remember when Tendou took my water bottle and filled it with really sour lemonade?" He asked, you could hear his voice unravel into a more comfortable tone, instead of one holding in so much hurt and fear.
"Ha, i actually helped him with that you know?" You spoke up, a small grin on your lips as your boyfriend grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him. "We'll its okay, because it was 2 years ago."
It had been 2 years. 2 years since you had become shiratorizawas manager, 2 years since you made the number 1 ace fall head over heels for you, 2 years since you had went on your first date with him.
"2 years, its been so long." You laid your head on Ushijimas arm, feeling tired. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and placed a kiss atop your head.
"Thats when we first started dating," you spoke, shoulders shaking with a small laugh, "i would've never imagined to have the nations number 1 ace fall so madly in love with me." You laughed and turned to your boyfriend to continue your teasing, but stopped when you saw him looking back at you.
He couldn't respond with anything more than a mere chuckle, tears now streaming down his cheeks. You bit your lip, scooting closer to him so you were in his lap, wrapping your arms around his large stature.
"Toshi, I love you." It was no more than a whisper and he placed a warm, loving kiss to your temple, rubbing your back softly as he let out a shaky laugh.
"y/n god, you make it so hard not to cry." He whispered in an unstable tone, resting his head atop yours. "I love you too."
This was how it was, clinging to the other and sharing old tales of your days spent with Ushijima and the boys, tales of times tendou had snuck out of the dorms and got caught by washijou, or when goshiki cut his bangs too short, or how Ushijima brought your parents a half eaten watermelon as a gift.
Those last moments spent with laughs and tears, kisses and hugs, warmth and comfort, those were your best memories. Despite the fate to cross you, Ushijima and everyone else in the world, you felt like you could smile for the first time.
You would smile alot, but it felt different this time. You convinced yourself that it was just because you had been withering away for the past days, but you knew it was because you felt free.
You had no worries in the moment with your lover, you didnt need to think about getting up for work the next day, or how you would afford next months rent. You felt like the largest weight had been lifted off of you, and you could really smile for the first time.
There was a slightly rumble if the ground that had made you and Ushijima go silent. You pulled away from your spot in the crook of his neck to look at him, fear still in his eyes.
"I dont wanna die," he chuckled out, "but im not sad." He drew small shapes into your hips with his thumbs, looking onto your laps instead of your face, and you just stared at him.
His usually stoic face was calmed, relaxed, his jaw unclenched and his eyes soft. You hadnt seen so many emotions from your boyfriend so much, it was almost scary. But he looked so gorgeous, he was your world.
"Wakatoshi Ushijima, you know," your placed your hands on both sides of his face, "it doesnt matter what happens to this world, because," you placed a passionate kiss to his lips, the tears finally falling from your eyes, "you, you're my world Toshi."
He let out a noise that was similar to a choke, tears rolling down the apple of his cheeks as he placed his forehead to yours, letting his shoulders shake with hard sobs. Loud crashes, screams and car alarms had let you know it was coming, the end of the world.
The last thing you saw was Ushijima, smiling snd crying, mouthing out one last 'I love you'.
Why does the end of the world look so beautiful?
© tomura-heart — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, or copying is not allowed. do not translate. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.
#writings 📃#ushijima.💭#ushijima x reader#ushijima x y/n#ushijima angst#ushijima imagine#ushijima fanfic#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#ushijima wakatoshi fanfic#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu imagine#hq x reader#hq x you#hq angst#hq fanfic#hq imagines
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stop caring
yooo, so this is actually taken out of one of the sort of I guess series-esque things I’ve written, but it kinda just got shit at the end so I've given up and just wanted to post this instead. So sorry if some of the backstory isn't that clear or anything
tomhollandxfamous!reader
Summary: after your break up you bump into tom at a charity event and when shit hits the fan personally for you, someone who understands you is really what you need (angsty!!! maybe a bit of fluff too?)
TW: panic/anxiety attacks + mentions of assault
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3 months. 3 months you’d managed to avoid the boy that had given you the most joy in the previous years. 3 months without your best friend; of even when you’re with company feeling like a part of you was just absent.
And you had been thriving. Well… that’s what everyone thought. That’s what you tried to portray, because no matter how ‘famous’ or ‘successful’ people perceived you to be - ultimately you were like anyone else. Making your insta pop off after the breakup. And so to the outside world, through the very very small lense of social media life was great. Parties, friends, work.
You were a woman in demand - in all senses of the word.
But of course, as is the 21st century world, it was a lie. Instagram showed only snapshots of what can be very long 24 hours in a day. Naturally, a select few obviously knew - your best friend, Y/f/n being one of them. Yet still you were missing that one support, that one person who would drag you back to reality whenever you got too much into your own head. It actually rather annoyed you, how dependent you had got on him, in every part of your life.
And you really hadn’t expected to see him here today. You’d had your assistant check the guest list, he wasn’t on it. While getting ready, you had avoided all the products that reminded you of him; that soft nude lipstick he loved you in so much; your favourite (exfavourite) earrings. Had you known it, you would have worn these. Just because you knew it would get on his nerves a little bit. Nevertheless here you were, perhaps a little underdressed for the charity dinner in a dress you’d already worn before (because apparently that was a sin in the world of Hollywood). You couldn’t pin point from when, but it was simple yet elegant if you did say so yourself. A dark blue satin dress, that sat off your shoulders in a Bardot style; hugged your waist to accentuate your curves; then flowed outwards down to the floor with a slit up your right leg. It was simple compared to the sequin studded, diamanté jewelled dresses the rest of the women seemed to sport but it made you feel comfortable.
Besides, that’s what you needed today. This was the first time after the breakup you’d attended a public event without your best friend-turned-assistant-turned-absolute-life-saver. Y/f/n had been the greatest with you all through your life but especially recently, she deserved the break to go back home and see her family. It was a pretty decent excuse too, her cousins wedding, so you were in absolutely no place to complain.
Evidently it just HAD to be this event then, while you were flying solo, that you’d be faced with…well with his face. His fucking gorgeous, perfect and oh so sweet face.
Just seeing him, just seeing Tom fucking Holland, had the most intense burst of adrenaline course through your veins as you desperately scanned the rest of the room. Looking for an out, an excuse, someone to latch onto for the rest of the night. A distraction even.
Never one to admit it openly, but really you knew your coping mechanism of the past months had been to sleep with who you wanted. Because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right? You knew it was stupid too. Not because of slut shaming or anything ( we aint got no outdated views here), but simply it wasn’t you. It wasn’t a good idea for you. It didn’t fit.
Tom hadn’t seen you yet, so if you latched onto someone you’d likely be in the clear. So obviously, when your frantic glances landed upon Joe Keery, you literally sighed in relief. Joe was great, stranger things was a bit of a guilty pleasure for you - especially when you were in your trailer and bored. Just due to your line of work, you’d met a couple times, he seemed like decent crack and to you knowledge was single.
Unsurprisingly then, you almost marched over to Joe, ignoring the slightly shaky feeling in your leg as your hearing seemed to focus completely on the sound of Tom’s bright laugh.
It was your choice too. You’d chosen to end things. It was on you. Well really, both parties were equally guilty. Tom was the one who had been too tired and highly strung and exhausted to put effort into the relationship. Stupidly though, you were too in love to realise for so long, in doing so draining yourself in the process. The constant flying cross country to see him, when he couldn’t ever return the favour because he was too busy. It was chipping away at you, even if you didn’t notice. It took an intervention by your manager Davey and Y/f/n for you to see things for what they were. To see that Tom didn’t care as much as he used to.
He tried to fight for it, of course Tom did, because he also truly and deeply loved you. Nonetheless though, it was too late. And that was it. You closed that book and returned it to the library. Something your mind occasionally drifts back to and you think ‘huh that was a good read’ - yet that is the only space it occupies in your mind.
OR that’s how it should be. Not you yesterday, comparing everything your date did to Tom and deciding everything was worse. Not you today, seeing him and nearly being floored by the way the suit was tailored to his body oh so exquisitely. Not you now, hearing his bubbly laughter and having to fight your muscles from taking you back into his arms.
In short, you were highly strung and pining over a boy you’d killed your chance of happiness with.
Not to blow your own horn, you knew Joe wouldn’t be against having your company for the evening. After all, you were a young, beautiful and upcoming actor. You were ,at the very least, self aware. And so for a good few hours you almost forgot about Toms presence, spending the time before the speeches sharing a ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine (or two) with him. He was funny. He made you laugh, even if he was pushing the limits occasionally and teetering just on the right side of socially acceptable. It was risky and in that moment, with the alcohol in your system, it made him seem more and more of an attractive shag.
By the time the speeches started you were both overly giggly and had to keep shushing each other as the presenter called for quiet. Inherently, you knew exactly the location of Thomas - who he was sat around; the main he’d had at dinner; the brand of beer he’d been ordering.But that was subconscious. You were here with Joe.
Under your voices, whilst getting some disapproving looks from the older, more mature, members of your table you and Joe sat through the first boring speech whispering jokes under your breath - making each other clamp their mouth shut to avoid bursting out laughing. Though tipsy, you were very aware of Joe inching closer and closer, while his hand was casually brushing yours or your shoulder or waist more often. You knew this was low, being so blatant in front of Tom. To be quite frank though, should you care? And did he care?
The answer in your head at least, was an almost certain no to both.
One speech merged into another spent giggling away until Joe did something he didn’t mean. Heck he didn’t even know. His jesting quickly had toppled completely over into absolutely not category. Your brain felt like it was swimming as the name you’d avoided after that incident , almost ten years ago. The flashbacks came thick and fast. You an innocent young actor wanting to make a way in the industry. And him. A powerful, ridiculously important slightly overweight 50 year old with bad breath. That room in the corner of his hotel that you were completely lost in.
You were going to be sick.
Somewhere, distantly, you heard Joe saying something… asking you? Asking you if your were good? It was drowned out by a roar in your ears, you jerkily nodded your head. You knew your breathing was jilted, shaky and shallow. You knew your heart was exploding. It actually felt like a heart attack, the way it seemed to be beating as though it were going to break out of your chest. This time you really really needed an out.
So without any words, leaving a bemused Joe, your chair screeched on the floor as you stood up, garnering the attention of the whole room. The heads literally swivelled to stare at you, judgement clearly there as you frantically half ran to the back of the room, pleading if your head fro the toilet to be nearby. You needed to be away from everyone and safe.
Thankfully your escaped the room and the beady eyes, locating the bathroom where you threw a cubicle open, shakily locking it before collapsing into the wall in floods of tears, harsh sobs racking your frame as you clutched your hands to your knees and rocked slightly back and fourth. You dress being a full length ballgown was spilling out into the the nearby cubicles and under the door, but presumably you were alone in the loo - not hearing any other signs of life beyond your own sobs.
This always happened when you had your anxiety attacks. It was like clockwork. Zone out, stop hearing, loose control of breathing, heart starts pounding, make a quick escape to a toilet, cry and then…
Well back before Tom, it had been to throw up. That was the only thing you’d ever found to ground you enough to get your body backorder your own conscious control. It was like a wave of relief after, like the drowning feeling in your lungs had just evaporated away. But the Tom happened. The first time he’d seen you panic he hadn’t a clue what to do either. SO he had just sat with you, not wanting you to be alone in that state and waited. That panic though, had lasted so long that you’d almost made yourself pass out from the hyperventilating. When that had happened, Tom had gone into emergency mode. He had been scared to touch you, in case that made you worse, but when he saw your body going limp he didn’t have a choice. He’d collected you into his arms, with your head against his chest. Being this close to calling an ambulance, the relief Tom felt when your breathing got more and more regular was unparalleled.
Together, when he had you lying in his bed (recovered, if mortified and exhausted) was when you realised that you hadn’t been sick. And that was because of him. You’d grounded yourself on his heartbeat and breathing, listening to it and making yours sync up. Thats what had saved you that evening.
Now however, Tom was gone. This was the first panic attack you’d had since he’d been gone. Of course while you were together you were rarely in the same place, even so you’d phone him. But not now.
This all led to you sat clutching your knees as your mascara dripped down your cheeks as you had to fight to get enough oxygen into your body. You didn’t want to get into that vicious cycle of making yourself ill again. It really hadn’t been healthy.
Who knows how long you were sat there sobbing before you heard the door open and in response you clamped a hand to your mouth trying to stay silent. This irrational fear overcame you as you sat stock still, fearing the footsteps on the marble floor of the fancy function venue. Even the toilets were pretty posh.
“Y/n?…. It’s-it’s Tom.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. That was all that was going through your brain as you bit you lip - presumably painfully, yet you didn’t really feel pain in your current state. “Look I saw you leave and I know your on your own tonight… I-I couldn’t leave you on your own if your… well you know.” Everything was going so so fast in your brain, that it actually scared you into stopping crying, so much so you felt your hand flop back down to your side. “…I was waiting outside because I didn’t want to errr you know… but you’ve been 20 minutes so I need to know your good…..okay?”
The boy was too fucking good. And stubborn… he was too stubborn and you knew he wasn’t going to give in. It was also fairly evident that he knew you in here - there was no pretending you didn’t exist.
“Y/n? Come on you gotta let me know.”
“I’m fine. You-you go.” Only when you spoke was it evident to yourself just how not-okay you really were. Tom just chuckled and spoke again.
“How long have you known me for? That’s just not going to happen is it.” You already knew this, but something about the way he said it made you realise a sad laugh, momentarily making you feel a bit more in control. He seemed to like that response, you heard him bend down and then saw the bottom of his tux as he sat down leaning against your cubicle door.
“Is …is this your first one… since? You both know what he was talking about. Since you broke up.
“Uhmm I-“ You swallowed down a fresh rise of nausea, somewhat determined to not throw up when you ex is barely a metre from you. “Yeh I suppose.” In didn’t seem a revelation to Tom, yet he still hummed lowly in response as the room drifted back to silence.
“You… you wanna try to breath with me?… You don’t have to open the door just…”
Croaking a please in response because this feeling was really blood awful and you wanted it to end, Tom started exaggerating his breathes, as you shakily and eventually managed to start to time it with his. Without thinking, when Tom’s palm snuck half under the door you immediately grabbed and squeezed it - the contact helping to synchronise your body with his.
It should be an alien feeling after your time apart. But no it felt oh so natural and so very right.
Once you’d collected yourself and realised how bloody stupid this whole situation was you withdrew your hand back, loosing the warmth as you shook your head in disapproval of yourself. So very fucking stupid. He was silent for a bit, letting you think things through whilst still sat outside your cubicle.
“You good now?” You hummed in agreement and you felt Tom’s head fall against the door, looking up to the ceiling. “Want me to go?”
“If you want to” That was met with silence, but a very telling lack of movement that spoke a thousand words.
“You should get out of here… you wanna avoid the trigger again and I mean I know you’re exhausted.” The boy had researched panic disorder and attacks when he found out you suffered with it - he probably knew more of the psychology of it than you, whilst never having any first hand experience of it. Annoyingly he was right, as per, after attacks you always always slept for hours - it was just a draining process. “I’ll get you a car if you want?…. I’d like to make sure you get back okay if you don’t mind.” With only your cold and empty residual feeling left, his words still managed to ignite a spark of warmth in your chest.
“I’m not going to ruin your evening Tom.” You tried to refuse even if it was very very forced and very very hopeful he wouldn’t give in.
“I was having a crappy evening. Sitting in the ladies toilet talking to my ex through a toilet door has actually been the highlight.”He chuckled playfully in a self pitying way, somehow again making you giggle. And so he had you standing on slightly unsteady feet, your black heels held in one hand because no wasn’t the time to put yourself through teetering around on pin needles. The shuffling outside the door meant Tom stood up too - before you unlocked the door and opened it.
Prior to seeing Tom your eyes locked on the sight of your reflection, in the mirrors above the sinks opposite you. Perhaps the only way to describe it… it was a sight. The shock being in the juxtaposition between the elegant dress, which even having been crumpled on a bathroom floor had somehow managed to survive and still look near the off-the-hanger; but your face? Oh that was a shit show. You’d cried your makeup off almost completely, leaving your face blotchy and shining as well as the ever so telling smudged mascara under your bottom lash line.
You had to laugh or you’d just start to cry.
“Don’t worry I’ve seen you much worse.” You saw in the reflection as Tom leaned in and whispered in your ear, making your eyes roll and head shake as you looked from him back to you.
“I look like a paps dream.” Without instruction, Tom bolted into a nearby cubicle, wrapping layers of toilet roll round his hand before offering it to you as a makeshift wipe.
“This is the glamour of Hollywood don’t you know? Wiping your face with bog roll”Thankfully taking it, you offered Tom a thankful smile as he stepped back, giving you space as he leant against another cubicle pillar. Once you finished up blotting your face, Tom had already shrugged off his jacket walking toward you as he offered it out. Tilting your head to the side in a questioning manner Tom just shrugged, saying it’d help avoid the paparazzi just in case. In reality you weren’t so sure, but anyhow you still appreciated the gesture and draped it round your shoulders with a muttering of thanks.
At this point his phone pinged, the car was outside, so without any words exchanged he led you to the door, checked the hallway was clearly before guided you back to the exit. There didn’t appear to be anybody lurking around, which you were oh so thankful for as you almost threw yourself in to the safety of the blacked out car. Tom followed and you both, almost comically as if scripted, released a sigh in unison as you melted into the seats. That had you chuckling dryly as you sat in silence.
“You know we can’t move till you say where you’re staying?” Teasing you, Tom shot you that ever mischievous grin that made the blood rush through your skin. After you’d told the driver, the car pulled swiftly out the laibi.
“Did he…did he say something?” Tom’s demeanour had steeled up and you looked questioningly up at him. “Joe… you looked…close.”
“Oh”. You were taken aback. You should have seen this coming to be fair, him asking for the trigger this evening - and yet you were more shocked at his jealousy. How he looked pained to mention Joe by name. “Um no… well sort of…it was a joke. He didn’t mean it but it er…it took me back.” Tom knew your history, he knew what happened all those years ago and he nodded slowly , keeping his eyeline straight ahead.
“He’s a dick.”
“No he’s not…. He- he was sweet enough . It was all me.”
“What?”
“I pushed myself on him. I-I saw you… I was spooked.” Tom left it to drift back to silence. He had a lot of thinking to do too.
He’d obviously kept up to date with you. Call it a professional interest. That was the problem being in love with someone when you weren’t allowed to be. But it hurt like hell, especially when he heard what you were doing. Because he knew this wasn’t you. He knew you sleeping around wasn’t going to help you recover - in fact he thought (and quite correctly) it was the opposite. That long term it’d only cause you more and more pain.
“You know, you don’t have to do this?… I-I know it isn’t you. I’m not insulting or anything I’m… I’m just worried.” You knew he was being truthful . And infuriatingly he was right. Which only made it even more annoying.
“Why do you care though?” Looking out the window that was all you could think to say. That was your subconscious talking as you didn’t really want the answer. Or you desperately did but you knew it’d be hard to get over.
“Y/n” He sighed, making you look across at him “I’ve not stopped caring… I’ll never stop caring.”
Wasn’t that just a knife to the heart. You held your breath momentarily, not knowing what to think (nervermind say) in response to that. Everything in that car seemed to freeze, Tom’s eyes piercing the deepest and darkest parts of your mind as he stared at you. You both really weren’t over it. You were both hurting. You missed each other.
And you were about to dive in all over again.
But then the indicator ticked on. The car pulled to a stop. The ignition switched off by the driver. You were at your hotel. The journeys end - quite literally.
Tom felt it too. He knew if ever there was a chance, however rogue and unlikely, of you two working things out it was within this journey. And he’d failed.
“I-uh…I-this is me” Stammering through, distracted by the way Tom’s eyes shone with disappointment.
‘Yeh - yeh it is I guess.”
“Well er… thanks for, well you know… for saving me. You er-you really didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to”
“Yeh well er thanks…. And er-Oh! Your jacket” You realised, already tugging the tailored suit jacket from your shoulders.
“No no it’s really okay. I have loads anyway.” See?In Hollywood you really weren’t allowed to wear the same thing twice.
“Oh-okay. Well er….I’ll see you around I guess?”
“Can I walk you to your room, just to-check no one bothers you?” Tom was trying. Desperately trying. He could feel you slipping through his fingers again, this time he wanted to put up more of a fight. You shook your head thought, a sad smile gracing your lips.
“I’d say yes but I think I know where that’d end up…. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Defeatedly nodding, Tom just smiled in a tight-lipped fashion, equally as sadly at you.
“I’ll errr I’ll see you around.” While gathering yourself and preparing to exit the car, your hand on the door handle. Tom responded with a ‘yeh’ but before you left you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before whispering under your breath..
“Thankyou Tom.”
part 2 ish of sorts --> link
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