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junicai · 3 years

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drop offs.

| summary | During filming ‘Highway To Heaven’, there is a small altercation between the heel of Aria’s boot, a loose rock, and the edge of a cliff.

| word count | 3.2k

| warnings | near death experiences (only sort of), swearing

| era | circa. 2019

20. “Put your arm around my - or just fall on me, that works too.”

58. “Don’t tell me to calm down!”

The hot desert air blew roughly against the thin cotton of Aria’s shirt - fluttering the material and tugging it against the single button that was holding the fabric closed. The atmosphere was dry and dusty, hence the steadily growing pile of empty water bottles that was building up in the back seat of one of the staff vans that had driven the members to their filming location in the Mojave Desert.

Fanning herself, Aria knelt down to pull on the zipper of her boot, checking that it was still properly closed. Black heeled boots were, realistically, not the most suitable footwear for traversing the desert terrain, but the extra inches of height put her closer to Taeil in stature so she wasn’t going to complain.

However, the last thing she needed to happen was to stumble over a rock and twist her ankle in the middle of filming.

In an ideal world, she’d have perfect balance, even when teetering around on the four-inch, wide-based heel, (or just be four inches taller naturally), but with the wind as a major factor; Aria was stuck playing a balancing act with her body.

They’d been filming for the best part of the day, having arrived in the early morning to scout out the final locations and prep some of the equipment. The journey up in the van was tedious, and over two hours long, but Aria had made herself comfortable on Donghyuck’s shoulder twenty minutes after leaving their hotel, and promptly crashed out a few minutes after that.

Johnny had been the one to gently shake her shoulder, trying to wake her up without startling her while Donghyuck was attempting - and failing - to wriggle his way out from underneath her without jostling her too much. She’d crawled out of the car with a red mark imprinted on her cheek, that she rubbed at harshly when it was pointed out with a giggle by Jungwoo.

The crew had covered the solo shots first - using the time in between each shot to touch up make-up and hair, or in some of the members’ cases, explore the desert and chase unsuspecting lizards through the undergrowth.

Aria had squeaked when a flash of muddy green had darted past her foot, jumping back an inch and then another foot when a sprinting Taeil brushed past in hot pursuit.

She turned back to look at Taeyong who was watching from afar with a huffy look on his face, throwing up his hands when Taeil finally stopped running and turned around defeated.

“Hyung! It keeps going towards you but you’re not catching it!” The leader complained, walking towards him.

Aria raised her eyebrows in disbelief, moving away from the duo that seemed dead set on bothering the unknown creature to stand beside Mark at the edge of the road. “What exactly are they chasing?”

“Lizards.”

“Lizards?”

He nodded.

Humming softly, Aria shook her head and knelt down again to tug at the zipper on her boot. After a careful yank, she stood back up, having been satisfied that it was still tightly closed.

“Is that hurting you or something?” Mark questioned, looking over at her.

“Oh no,” Aria waved him off. “I don’t know, I’m just paranoid that it’s going to come undone. Bad feeling about it or whatever.” She shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“It’s not pinching you or anything? Because I’m pretty sure there’s band-aids in the back, I can grab you one if you need it?” Mark pressed on.

“No I’m alright. If it bothers me later on, I’ll get one myself okay?”

Mark frowned, still not satisfied.

Aria stood up on her tippy-toes to reach around Mark’s neck, swinging her arm around it. “Markie~ I’m okay! See?” She jumped lightly, hopping on one foot and then the other.

Conceding, he smiled at her, poking her stomach. “Race me.”

Aria hardly blinked. “You’re on.”

“I’m coming!” Donghyuck screamed from the other side of the road, pausing momentarily to check that there were no cars coming up on the otherwise deserted road, before crossing and moving to stand in between the other two maknaes. “Ready?”

“Always.”

“On your marks!”

“Get set!”

“Go!”

The trio set off at a run, dust flying up behind their shoes.

At an immediate disadvantage because of her designated footwear, Aria began to slow almost immediately, the other two boys racing ahead. She cupped her mouth in her hands, starting to call out to them to slow down, they were cheating, but was halted by another voice calling for her from across the other side of the road.

The race was halted as Aria was called for her own solo shots. She pouted at the boys, but claimed that because it was interrupted, then there could be no winner called, and they’d have to do it again later on.

Donghyuck and Mark readily agreed, and Aria left towards her specific filming location with a flutter of her fingers towards the pair.

Now, don’t get her wrong. Aria loved filming their music videos. Watching a creative idea and physical representation of their songs come to life firsthand was incredible, and the costuming, the hair design, the make-up, was all mind-blowing to her. Her hair roots were always crying at the end of a promotional period, but she genuinely thinks she’s never looked as good as she did with the soft, bubble-gum pink hair they’d bleached the strands to dye for this promotional set.

The bright lights and the group shots, dancing a new routine together for the first time in a professional setting that wasn’t the practice room - it was exhilarating.

What was not exhilarating, was the occasionally precarious filming locations that the directors decided fit the theme so well that it would be idiotic to pass up on.

That lead to situations like the current: Aria, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Johnny and Taeil all clustered together at the edge of a rather substantial cliff edge, leaning out over the ledge to see the camera that was filming them.

Aria had a firm grip on the back of Johnny’s shirt, trying to find a groove that she could wedge her heel into to prevent herself from falling should the rocks move from underneath her feet.

The ground was dry, and there was little to no purchase offered from the dust that coated the rolling pebbles. Additionally, the lack of grip on the bottom of her black boots wasn’t helpful, and Aria found herself scrabbling for even a semblance of grip.

“Aria!” A voice called out from the bottom of the cliff.

She leaned over to catch the eye of the cameraman. “We can’t see your face, you’re too far back. Can you shuffle forward a bit?”

Teeth pinching her bottom lip, Aria nodded hesitantly, sliding a hand up Jaehyun’s arm in a silent request for help as he was the one sitting closest to the edge of the cliff.

He took her hand in one of his own, the other moving to grab her elbow as she slowly stepped forward and out onto the front area of the protruding cliff. Here, Aria could feel the complete lack of substance beneath her feet, and although she knew it wasn’t true, it felt like the rock she was standing on was paper thin.

Her weight wobbled to-and-fro for a moment, and Jaehyun gripped her arm tightly.

“Careful.” He warned.

Aria let out a shaky exhale, peering down over the cliff edge. “Is this okay?” She called down.

A hum. “Maybe a little bit more? You’re slightly blocking Taeil at the moment. Just be careful, the rocks mightn’t be stable enough out there to support you, so go slowly.”

Aria didn’t think the rocks were stable enough to support her where she was standing currently, let alone another few inches out, but she began to tentatively step out regardless. Her hand clenched around Jaehyun’s.

Slowly, she moved out further, stepping out onto the edge of the cliff with one eye half closed, expecting the ground to shift but feeling nothing. Blinking in surprise, she then felt confident to transfer her entire weight forward, which was a mistake.

A small circular rock shifted beneath her heel, and Aria’s support crumpled out from beneath her.

She let out a shrill shriek, hands grasping at air behind her. She pushed herself against the falling ground, hoping for the cliff edge.

“Shit!” A strong hand tangled in the material of her shirt, pulling her back none-to-gently into a hard back, arms immediately coming to wrap around her waist and hold her there; steady.

Aria’s breath came in hard pants.

She was shaking rapidly, hands quaking as she tucked them underneath her own arms, eyes fixated on the ground where the rocks she had been stood on had crumbled. They had collected in a neat pile at the foot of the cliff - only a three metre or so drop, but substantial enough that one of the larger rocks had split into half, and the other rocks had cracks lining their sides.

God.

That was an awfully long way down.

Is that what she was standing over?

It was like she was removed from the situation. Aria was looking out over the cliff edge - but it wasn’t her viewpoint. Like a film camera, being watched on a small silver screen.

Where was the film crew?

Had they moved the equipment out of the way in the rocks in time?

Was there a camera buried beneath the pile of rocks?

“-ia, Aria- Riri!” A shout in her left ear, pulling her attention away from the swirling thoughts of oh god oh shit oh god oh s-

“Hey.” Jaehyun had spun her in his arms, dragging her eyes away from the cliff edge and catching her face in his hands, making her face him. “Hey. You’re okay. You’re okay, you’re safe. You’re okay.” His voice had a quiver to it, and his hands had yet to release their painfully tight grip on her arms.

She barely even registered it.

Aria’s voice broke out in a whimper, and as her eyes widened to slowly begin filling with tears, Jaehyun pulled her back into his chest, letting his hand come up to rub soothingly along her back. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you baby, you’re okay.” He soothed.

Her heart was ricocheting around her chest like a boomerang.

At some point, she had sunk to her knees and Jaehyun had followed her down, having pulled her away from the edge of the cliff immediately. She knelt slightly, before sinking bodily into his arms, and Jaehyun continued to murmur comfort into her ear as she buried her face in the loose material of his white shirt.

Her head pounded like a rushing river, too many thoughts too make a lot of sense of any singular one. Behind her eyes, the image of the rocks kept flashing, the feeling of the ground collapsing from beneath her feet, falling, the wind rushing through her ears, falling, a hand grasping the back of her shirt but the grip slipping through loose fingertips, falling, falling falling.

The pair stayed like that for a while - how long, Aria really wasn’t sure, she was more focused on trying to get herself to stop shaking like a caffeine addict going through withdrawals.

The rocks beneath her knees bit into the skin, but she welcomed the grounding feeling - a small bite of pain nipping through the overwhelming rush of emotions threatening to overtake her and swallow her whole.

Slowly though, her breath came back in measured breaths, calming from the harsh panting that was previously pulling at her lungs.

Taking stock of where she was, Aria began to register the other bodies around her. In the time it had taken for her to re-gather herself, Doyoung had settled behind her, hands hovering like he was afraid to startle her with a touch. Taeil was nowhere to be found, but upon a questioning look from Aria, Doyoung was quick to explain in a soft voice that he had followed Johnny down to get the back of the van set up for her - pulling out an ice-pack from the trailer and gathering the blankets from the other vans.

That had Aria moving to push herself to her feet, shaking her head. “No, no, I’m okay. We still have the group shots to film, I can do it. It’s fine.” She argued weakly.

Jaehyun pulled her back down into her lap with a firm grip. “No, it’s not fine. If it were fine, then you wouldn’t still be shaking like a goddamn leaf.”

Aria consciously clenched her muscles to stop the tremors running through her arms like shockwaves. “M’not.”

Doyoung sighed, raising a hand to run it over Aria’s mildly disheveled hair. It would have to be restyled later on, but the windswept look was something that they were aiming for, so he didn’t think it was too bad, all things considered.

“Baby, it’s okay to be scared after that. No one’s expecting you to do anything more today.”

“But it’s fine-”

“You could have died, Akari!” Jaehyun was shaking as well, something that Aria had just noticed. He dropped his head to rest on her shoulder. “You could have gotten seriously hurt. So please. Just, sit down in the van right now, okay?”

“Jae, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, hyung!”

Aria took in a stuttered breath. “B-but I’m ok-ay-” Her voice cracked slightly, tremors returning full-force.

The two boys returned their focus to the girl in between them, exchanging a meaningful glance that meant nothing to Aria. Doyoung wrapped his arms around her as well, and soon she was caught in a hug between them, finally letting the tears pool up in her eyes.

“I-I’m o-kay,” She stuttered out, fists gripping someone’s shirt - she didn’t care too much who it was at the time.

“Yeah,” Doyoung pressed a kiss to the top of her head, tightening his arms briefly. “You’re okay, baby, you’re okay.”

It wasn’t until sometime after, once Aria had managed to pull back the tears and had calmed the shaking to some degree, that Jaehyun gave her a soft prompt to stand up. Her legs were like a newborn foal beneath her, knees shifting and she leant out to grip at Doyoung’s arm again as he moved away.

“Here, here.” Jaehyun pulled her towards him. “Put your arm around my - or just fall on me. That works too.” His concerned tone was undercut by a ribbon of teasing, although it did little to mask how reluctant he was to let go of the young girl, even for a moment.

“Shush.” Aria straightened up herself from where she had face planted into his chest again, her knees having betrayed her to gravity, but this time made no complaint when Jaehyun’s arm retook its spot around her waist.

Together, with the aid of Doyoung, Aria made her way down the dusty cliffside, moving over to the van with an open door, and some of the members waiting around it anxiously.

Yuta was the first to break away from the group, making his way over to hoist Aria into his arms - paying no mind to her stuttered exclaim of hey! His arms slipped beneath her knees, and he lifted her gently, taking the weight off of Jaehyun’s staggering frame.

Upon reaching the van, it was like telepathy. Yuta turned to let Jaehyun take the weight of Aria from his arms - he already knew that the younger boy was shook up, and wouldn’t be comfortable unless he was physically touching Aria in some shape or form for the next few hours - while Taeyong was patting Mark on the back and alerting him to Aria’s arrival.

Jaehyun slid in first, before Aria was placed gently onto the blankets, Mark piling in behind her and proceeding to wrap her in another hug. This time though, it wasn’t her that was shaking, and she could feel the soft quiver of Mark’s hands as they pulled loosely at the bottom of her shirt.

Together, the two boys replicated the hug that Jaehyun and Doyoung had wrapped her in a few minutes ago.

“M’okay.” She whispered.

“You almost weren’t.” Came his huffed response.

“But I am.”

Mark gave no reply.

“God-” Jaehyun choked out a laugh, running a hand though his hair. “Never - and I mean never - do that again.”

She looked down. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Mark’s head had snapped up from where he had buried it in her shoulder. “For causing a cliff-collapse? Because I’m pretty sure there’s someone who needs to apologize for that and it’s not you its the director.”

Aria winced. She had watched through the sliver of the car door that was still open as Taeyong had cast a cold look over to Yuta and Johnny, the three men exchanging a nod before moving away from the vehicle and over to where the staff were finishing up with Donghyuck’s solo shots. The second youngest member had been a few minutes walk away when it had all happened, so he hadn’t been privy to the theatrics of it all; something that Aria was ultimately grateful for.

She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to breath ever again if Donghyuck had been one of the men wrapped around her right then.

Either way, the three men had made their way out of view of the car, and Aria didn’t envy anyone who was on the other end of their glares. Taeyong had looked pissed, and honestly Aria was growing too tired to care.

After the shaking had died down, it was like her muscles had atrophied in under a minute, and suddenly she was left weakened and with the want to curl up in a ball to sleep.

It seemed, however, that Jaehyun had already prepared for this, and was moving Mark and himself around to allow Aria to curl up comfortably in the back of the van - her head in his lap and her feet in Mark’s.

“M’sorry.” She whispered again, just about to fall off into sleep.

“You’re okay, baby. It’s not your fault. We’re all just happy you’re okay.” Jaehyun murmured, petting her hair lightly.

“Thank you,” Aria turned her head to breath the words into Jaehyun’s stomach, hand coming to squeeze his arm. “Thank you for catching me.” Her voice broke slightly.

“I’m not about to let you down on my watch. And that includes falling to a potential death.” The weak attempt at a joke brought a watery laugh from Aria’s lips nonetheless.

“Can I say I saw the highway to heaven now?”

A soft chuckle, and another pet through her hair. “Sure, baby.”

With Jaehyun’s hand running soothing circuits through her hair, and Mark having worked off her boots - tutting lightly at the red marks that they had left - Aria drifted.

head full of cliff edges and falling.

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osamiiya · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Atsumu x Reader (Slight Osamu x Reader)

Summary: Atsumu has a date with his longtime crush, only for him to get sick. Luckily, his twin brother has a can of semi permanent hair dye and an open schedule.

Warnings: Atsumu and Osamu having one brain cell

A/n: Alternative ending with Osamu ?

The first time was when Atsumu was too sick to make it to his 'no makeups' math test. Osamu ran to buy a can of spray-on hair dye and combed his hair the other way.

And it worked, Atsumu got the 100% and Osamu got his chores done for a month.

The second and third times were just for fun, a test to see how long they could go before someone noticed, and usually by practice someone did, but it was always doubted because; "Well, it looks like Atsumu."

The fourth time was when Atsumu scored a date with his longtime crush, a feat nobody saw coming.

Atsumu had built himself up to ask for your number and a date, striding across the classroom amidst the laughs and giggles of his classmates, confidence draining with each step as he neared your desk.

'Act cool, Act cool'

The mantra plays on repeat as he clears his throat.

"Are you free Saturday?" He holds out his phone in hopes you understand.

Nobody expected you to give him a smile and carefully take the phone out of his hand, putting your number in and texting it, waiting for your text alarm before adding his contact into your phone.

And in hindsight, Atsumu should've been careful the following week, not overworking himself and certainly not forgetting his umbrella in the morning.

He layed in bed Friday night, covers pulled up to his chin as Osamu laughed at his sniffling and raspy voice.

"You should just reschedule." Suna offers, watching Atsumu's pink face, from his fever, go even pinker with indignation.

"There's no way, I've been waiting for this for a year now." A cough punctuates his argument and Suna and Osamu cringe behind their facemasks.

"There's no way you'll be able to go when you're this sick." Osamu nods in agreement with Suna's words, feeling slightly sorry for his brother now.

Osamu is quick to jump in when Atsumu opens his mouth to argue.

"You won't be completely better by tomorrow night, that's just crazy."

Atsumu pouts, significantly more whiny now that he was sick.

The trio sit in silence for a moment before a lightbulb goes off in Atsumu's head.

"I don't have to go on the date-"

Suna groans and interjects with a "That's what we've been trying to tell you."

To which Atsumu rolls his eyes and continuous.

"-Osamu can go."

It's silent as the words process in the boy's minds.

"What?" Osamu let's out a shocked laugh.

"You don't have any plans other than gaming with Suna anyways, just go as me and if you score another date I'll go on it. They won't be able to tell."

Now it should be said that sometimes Atsumu has bad plans said with great enough execution where it makes a sliver of sense.

A few minutes of arguing later, Osamu agrees with a huff as Suna laughs.

The next morning Atsumu helps spray Osamu's hair with the semi-permanant hair dye, watching his hair go from gray to yellow before combing it to the other side.

"We still look nothing alike." Osamu's grumpy, and the blond is slightly off, the way they stand completely different.

"Nonsense, you finally look hot."

Osamu can't strangle a sick person, that would be cruel.

But he does anyways, finally letting go of his twins neck at the three frantic taps Atsumu smacks on his shoulder.

The clock strikes 6pm and Osamu finally heads out, his gait changing slightly to be more believable as Atsumu's phone weighs down his pocket.

And he waits for you at the restaurant, flicking through his brothers phone mindlessly, going through his social media feed and commenting on all of Osamu's posts.

And then you arrive.

"Hey." Osamu, no, Atsumu smiles, tucking his phone into his back pocket like he's seen his brother do before.

"Ready to go in?"

"You look nice Atsumu."

Osamu, now Atsumu, smiles cheekily before returning the compliment.

The two of you have dinner, laughing and talking about everything, even holding hands as you walk through the streets, pointing out things in shops and even stopping at an empty store for rent.

"My... brother wants to open a restaurant." The place is perfect, the size, the location, the price.

"Oh yeah, Osamu did want to open an onigiri restaurant, I kind of remember that."

Osamu takes a picture of the store and sends it to his phone, wanting to remember this location.

"Who knows if he can do it, I think he should just stay with volleyball." Osamu's words are an echo of Atsumu's, and a sad glint takes place in his eyes.

It's noticeable enough for you to catch, squeezing his hand slightly to catch his attention.

"I think he can do it."

It's silent for a beat, Osamu completely taken aback before realizing he wasn't supposed to be Osamu.

"We'll see if the idiot actually goes through with it."

You continue walking, swinging your hands slightly and Osamu gets why Atsumu is so infatuated with you, the way you look under the street lights, the sound of your laugh, and gosh, your smile.

He snaps out of it as he walks you home.

"Thanks for taking me out today Osamu." You smile and wave from the doorway, and Osamu waves back, not realizing at first.

And then his face flushes and he let's out a shocked sound of question as you lean against the doorway.

"You think I wouldn't be able to tell my crush apart from his brother? Besides, Atsumu was out sick yesterday too, there's no way he'd get better so quickly."

You think for a minute, studying his face, they really did look similar.

"Besides, your eyes are different."

Osamu's shocked enough where words don't form as you continue.

"Don't tell Atsumu I know, I want to see what happens." You laugh slightly as you wave goodnight and close the door, Osamu standing in shock for a moment before walking home.

The moment Osamu steps into the house, Atsumu's on him like a beast, a flurry of questions sometimes interrupted with a coughing fit as Osamu trys to lean away.

"It went fine, they really like you." The jealousy is well hidden, and if Atsumu wasn't sick and head already feeling muddled, he would've picked up on it.

"Dude, I need to wash this out of my hair." Osamu groans as Atsumu asks more questions, what were you wearing? What did you order for dinner? Osamu payed right?

Atsumu doesn't get a text all weekend from you, leading to an argument between the brothers, Atsumu thinking Osamu had messed everything up, to which Osamu argued that it was Atsumu's idea in the first place.

Until Monday, Atsumu all recovered and sitting anxiously at his desk waiting for you to walk throught he door.

"Y/n!" He's out of his desk in a flash, smiling nervously as he approaches you.

"You, uh, never texted." He prepares to be rejected, and prepares to finally murder his twin.

"You never showed up Atsumu." There's a teasing smile on your face as murderous rage fills Atsumu's eyes, Osamu stood you up?

"I was pretty bummed when Osamu showed up instead."

The lump in his throat goes away as he realizes.

"How did you know?"

You smile playfully, catching eyes with Osamu across the room.

"You have different eyes."

"Oh."

"How does this upcoming Saturday sound?"

Atsumu's confused for a second before he realizes.

"Like a date?"

At your nod he smiles.

"Then it's a date. And with me, not Osamu."

---

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@sachirou-senpai @kenmas-bitxh @tetsurolls @elianetsantana @peteunderoos @jovialnoise @ryusex-wife @dai-tsukki-desu @aruhappy @indecisivehusky @curiouslilbeast @alphabetsoupyum @dumbiebambi @dejvns @x-ia-n @itsmeaudrieee @llamakenma @hawksnumberoneuwu @prayerofthehaim @morpheus-rex @kac-chowsballs @sushii10 @chiiasa @kageyamasgirl @toworuu @yuujiya @realityisabitch-blr

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Text

Imminient Annihilation sounds so dope - Chapter Ten

Michael Langdon X Reader

Summary: Reader and Michael continue to work through their issues and finally start to warm up to each other even further.

Words: 5.9k+ …oops

Warnings: just normal IA warnings (swear words, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, enemies to lovers, slowburn, etc) anddd maybeee a bit of fluff 👁

A/N: hey guys! Sorry I haven’t updated this in a few months but hopefully this is satisfactory hehe. This chapter is kinda a turning point in the fic so I hope u guys like it!! Also I watched Jennifer’s Body as I finished this so.. do what u must w that information 😌 djdjd

Previous Chapter

Rain was never something you were accustomed too. Spending so much time in Los Angeles had made you partially spoiled when it came to the weather - which is why you knew immediately your day was going to be shit when you woke up to rain.

You tried to convince yourself that the emotions you were feeling weren’t complete disdain but rather just a pessimistic version of indifference.. or that’s what you hoped anyway.

You knew realistically that your day wasn’t already doomed before it even started; and that the rain was nothing more than a mere inconvenience.. However; you still felt justified in complaining, considering today was the day you were ripping the band-aide off and moving in to the apartment Michael had oh so graciously chosen to give you.

Your pessimistic mood surrounding the entire situation was inevitable, and that was something you didn’t even bother to resist or fight. It didn’t take long for your thoughts to quickly go south as you quickly packed. Hatred that seemingly came out of nowhere (but that you realistically knew was only temporarily dormant) wasted no time in blinding your judgement - making you feel a nearly nauseating amount of jealousy and anger for people who actually seemed to be fucking happy in their relationships and werent forced into.. whatever shitty living situation you knew you were bound to find yourself in.

An apartment with no strings attached was way too fucking simple, and you knew it was too good to be true. You knew you were basically walking into a trap, and for what reason were you doing that so willingly? Just so that maybe Michael could start to tolerate you? You resented yourself for even agreeing to this but you also understood you really had no other option.

However; personal feelings aside.. you still had a mission to accomplish. You still had to attempt to seduce Michael, and even though you were doing a shit job at that so far - you still had to try. You knew realistically it was only a matter of time before Cordelia would ask about the progress you've made, and you would have to tell her something.

You had to do this.

That's why you were (semi) blindly choosing to move in to a building you knew you absoluetly couldnt afford; and why you were sucking up your pride and choosing to become semi reliant on Michael.

No one from the coven knew, and for the time being you intended to keep it that way. After all, even though Mallory didnt exactly know that Michael gave you a whole ass fucking apartment - your sure she probably suspected that something important happened between you and Michael just from the short conversation you three harbored together. But for the time being, you didnt have to worry about that. You had bigger things that were on your mind.. like the actual apartment door itself that you currently stood in front of.

You held the keys limply in your hand, your bag slumped next to you as you procrastinated something as fucking simple as opening a door. How pathetic.

You continued to stall in the hallway regardless - thankful there was no one passing through to witness how ridiculous you looked. Your gaze fell south down to your keys which were cold in your hand. Dripping slowly with the subtle rainwater that managed to linger on them, along with the rest of your clothes.

Your skin stung from the cold that seemed stubborn to leave, and a nice change of clothes and a hot shower wouldnt be the absolute worst thing in the world..

Fuck.

You bit your lip in order to prevent letting the profanity from rolling off your tongue. Quickly getting a better grip on the keys (which only made you somehow colder) and numbly, hastily unlocking the door.

You pushed it open, letting the door hit the wall and taking a few steps inside before dropping your bag to the floor.. as well as your jaw.

No words could possibly convey how you felt as you noticed how the room was already illuminated with not only natural light from the already huge windows you could see.. but also with a warm, yellow artificial glow.

Was someone already here?

What the fuck?

The hatred and resentment you previously felt toward others earlier rapidly started to return - except this time it was targeted at one very specific person.

It didnt even register in your mind that the light could've been left on by accident or that people besides Michael actually existed that could be present in the room but.. you didnt care. Anger was the only emotion that was solely present in your body as you fully abandoned your bag by the door. Advancing forward; and only feeling more shock and disbelief with every step you took at the thought that he could very possibly be in (what was supposed to be) your space.

"Michael, I swear to God-"

"Y/n?” said a soft, feminine voice.

It was practically automatic how you froze. Just getting close enough to notice that it wasn’t Michael after all that was on your bed in your new studio apartment, but a woman sat on your bed instead.

For about two seconds, you were scared it was Madison but.. that was a stupid assumption within itself. The company you were with was from a far different nature than of which Madison was, even though at first glance the two woman might look or sound similar. There were so many qualities that distinguished Mallory from Madison. Brown, auburn hair.. dark eyeshadow.. and her classic black boots. It didn’t take long for your anger to fade away as you tried to not think about how logically this still didn’t make sense - walking closer to your bed anyway.

"How did you get in here? And since when did you ever break into peoples rooms?" You asked with a laugh.

Mallory echoed your laugh back, seemingly watching you and your behavior. As if she was expecting you to do something or to act a certain way.. like perhaps leave.

"I didnt break into your apartment but.. you should probably sit down." She spoke, before nodding off to her side. Nonverbally suggesting you to sit next to her.

You did as you were told. Noticing briefly before you sat down how nice the apartment actually was.. including the bed.

The walls, and most of everything in the apartment was a solid black. It looked sleek, and even though black paint made most rooms look small - the natural light helped keep things looking open which you appreciated. It was no surprise that the bed matched the dark theme too. The sheets were silky, black satin. You almost laughed at how comfortable the bed was once you sat next to Mallory, the entire situation was so ridiculous it nearly hurt for you to not laugh out loud. The two of you sat in the silence for a moment.. you were each incredibly anxious, that was more than apparent.

You looked up at Mallory, expecting her to speak first and explain herself since after all.. shes the one who broke into your apartment but she still remained quiet.. Stalling, you could only guess.

"So, why are you here? How did you even get in here? Is everything okay?" You asked, your words speedy and rushed.

Panic started to temporarily set in when you realized that something could be serisouly wrong with the coven, even though you knew how completly irrational it was to think that way with no evidence. What if witch hunters found them? What if someone preformed the seven wonders and it went wrong? What if the plan had suddenly changed with Michael?

Mallory seemed to pick on how anxious you suddenly were, putting a hand on your upper arm before making you meet her gaze. Her soft, hazel brown eyes immeadietly making your breathe slow. That was another reason you were so thankful for Mallory - the soothing, calming effect she seemed to have on everyone she met was something you never took for granted.. Espically now.

"Hey, nothing's wrong and nothing happened. I promise. I just wanted to see you and talk to you, and I figured we should catch up after Michael basically made me leave," Mallory explained.

You quickly nodded. Feeling guilt start to creep into your system once you remembered how Michael previously treated her.

"Yeah, youre right. I've been wanting to see you anyway and I'm sorry I didnt just call you last night or something.. and I know I cant control him but I'm still sorry for how Michael treated you. I shouldn't have brought you into that-"

"(Y/n), stop," Mallory said urgently. Shaking her head slightly in disagreement with your words. "Sure, Michael was acting like a dick but.. it's nothing I'm not exactly accustomed too. It was harmless," she ended her words with a smile. One that was meant to comfort you both at the epiphany her words brought.

You sat with her words for a moment. The realization suddenly hitting you like a truck-

"Wait.. what? Do you know Michael?"

Mallory fell completely silent. Looking at you almost in a.. guilty manner. Her gaze fell downwards before she looked up to meet yours once more, licking her lips anxiously before she uttered out a quiet reply.

"I wasnt going to tell you because I knew it would make you upset but.. Michael called me last night-"

"And you answered?" Your voice raised up a few octaves unwillingly. Threatening to break as you tried to process what you were hearing.

As much as you wanted to immeadietly jump to conclusions, you had to remind yourself that this was Mallory you were talking too. Your best friend, Mallory. You knew she would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.

You noticed Mallory was also starting to get tense. Her spine suddenly a bit too straight and her shoulders were rigid. It was nice to know you werent the only person in this situation who was feeling this way, although you would be lying if you were to say that you werent curious for why Mallory felt tense.

"At first, no but he kept calling so I figured it would cause no harm to see what he wanted so, I answered," Mallory said cautiously.

It was obvious she had more to say and as much as you wanted her to keep talking and fully explain herself - you were more than happy that you didnt have to cut her off again. It was too much. This was too much.

You pinched the bridge of your nose before loudly exhaling with a shallow growl. Not really caring that it probably was coming off like you were mad at Mallory when in reality, that wasn’t the case. Mallory wasn’t the problem; you were really just beyond fucking pissed at Michael.

But at this point.. that wasnt new news.

"I told him that we shouldnt be talking, but he insisted," Mallory continued with a shrug.

You tried to sit up straight again; trying to exhale some of the pure fucking anger that was currently coursing through your system. Your vision was spotted black when you opened your eyes - your gaze pointed upwards at the smooth, blank ceiling. Quickly wishing that you were anywhere else, or really anyone else at the moment.

What you wouldnt kill to swap bodies again.. but then again, who knows what the hell Michael was currently doing at the moment.. He couldnt be trusted.

That was more than obvious now.

You should've known that he would contact Mallory, but how he even got her number was beyond you.. Unless-

"How did he even get your number?" You asked. Your tone strikingly calm.

Mallory looked incredibly spooked when your head suddenly snapped over to look at her. As if she was worried you were angry at her still, and as much as you wanted to reassure her otherwise, you really didnt have the energy to do so anymore. Not at the moment anyway.

"You can't be mad when I tell you the answer, okay?" She said softly.

Your features immeadietly softened at her words. The rest of your body relaxed as well; your shoulders dropping and your jaw unclenching.

"Mallory, I could never be mad at you. You could never piss me off, i'm just.. frustrated at Michael. It's not at you, I swear," you said. Trying your best to make your words sound reassuring and genuine.

Mallorys reaction wasnt one that was verbal but immeadite nonetheless. Her arms suddenly shot out and wrapped themselves around you. Her body temporarily pressing into yours as your hands went to her back, before she quickly broke the hug.

"Promise?" Mallory prompted. Brown eyes looking diligently into yours.

"Yeah.. I promise. Just tell me what that idiot did,” you said halfheartedly.

"So.. I've had his number for a while. Not for too long but just since you two switched. But, we never really talked," Her voice stalled as she watched your reaction. Your mouth grew dry as you really tried to let it sink in that they've known eachother since- well for atleast a week. "But I knew immeadietly that it wasnt you.. that day. I'm sorry I lied, but Michael made me promise."

"Why didnt you just tell me?"

Mallory looked at you in a guilty manner. Her lips pursing shut as she looked solemnly at her shoes, avoiding eye contact. You knew exactly why she was being quiet - she didnt want to admit why she had lied but.. the answer was pretty obvious.

Even though Mallory was one of the strongest witches - almost stronger than Cordelia on some days, she still was scared of Michael and that was nothing worth holding a grudge over. After all he was still the antichrist, no matter how (mostly) harmless and idiotic he seemed to you now.

"Okay.. I guess that doesnt really matter," you admitted with a laugh. Figeting with your hands as you heard a shallow laugh omit also from Mallory, which made you smile. The shallow pit that resided in your stomach finally starting to let up. "But.. What did he call you about last night?"

Mallory hesitated again before giving you another subtle smile.

"It was mostly about you.. I know how you feel about him y/n, but its working. I promise you. Hes finally warming up to you. I just wish you could hear how he talks about you,” she spoke. Taking your hands into her soft, warm ones.

"I wish I believed that," You admitted.

"I wouldnt lie to you. Hes finally starting to warm up to you, plus it was obvious yesterday-"

"Yeah; It was obvious how strong he was coming onto you."

Mallory laughed again at your words. Shaking her head slightly in protest.

“Y/n you know that’s not true. The only reason why he was flirting with me was just to get to you.. I thought that was obvious.”

“It was obvious I just.. didn’t know that you knew that. I mean, Michael has Madison.. or he did so you think that would at least satisfy his flirting needs for a bit but.. Michael faking to be interested in you, that would mean he wanted a reaction out of me on purpose? Why would he-“

“You know why. You need to start cutting yourself slack and realize that maybee this rivalry is starting to be one sided.”

You pouted at her words at the realization that they actually held more truth in them than you were willing to admit. If Michael didn’t hate you anymore, if he was truly actually willing to be civil.. then why were you still so upset? Were you the one who was unintentionally causing problems now? Was it now you instead of Michael that was holding the relationship back?

How fucking stupid.

“I can’t trust him, Mallory. How can I when he and Madison literally tried to kill me. I can never forget that they did that to me.”

“I’m not asking you to forget what he did, y/n. I’m just saying that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start having an open mind around him, and see where it gets you.”

You were struck silent, knowing that Mallory was completely right. If you wanted to have any hope at all of making things right with Michael (even though you really didn’t do anything wrong..) you would have to try a different approach because obviously; what you were doing now wasn’t working. Being snarky, and vaguely threatening him every chance you got was fun of course but- it wasn’t working. Even though Mallory was probably the sweetest person you knew, the fact your own best friend had to (very politely) make a intervention was.. not a good sign. Although, you knew Mallory was doing this for your best interest because if she didn’t say anything, then Cordelia certainly would.

And sadly, Mallory was actually right.

If you wanted things with Michael to advance any further; or to advance at all you needed to step things up but, you could always worry about that after Mallory left.

“So what, are you guys besties now or something?” You sneered.

“Shut up!” Mallory said with a laugh, playfully pushing you over a bit. “He’s barely even my acquaintance. The only reason he’s being nice to me is just to get to you, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I mean that’s the goal-“

“Do you think that’s the only reason?” You interrupted.

Your throat automatically tightened after you spoke, the threat of your words potentially being true coaxing you to silence. Your not sure why the thought of Michael using you made you upset.. it’s not as if you didn’t think he was doing it before but this time it was different. Perhaps it was because you finally thought Michael actually had some type of interest in you.. and to have that suddenly ripped away?

That would leave you beyond broken.. you knew that for certain.

Mallory looked at you solemnly, as if she was already resenting her words before she had to say them outloud.

“Look, I don’t exactly know Michaels intentions and I’m not going to pretend too.. I don’t really think anyone does at this point but I do know that regardless of your feelings, or even his feelings that.. you have to try.”

You let out a loud exhale.

“I mean you said it yourself.. Michaels so unpredictable, there’s no point in guessing how he feels so.. maybe I should just.. ask him?”

Realistically you didn’t know how good of a idea that was- but.. trying to remain realistic was something you gave up on days ago. Pretty much the same day you switched and that definitely wasn’t a coincidence by any means.

As soon as Mallorys mouth opened, you heard three loud knocks. Quick and rapid with no hesitation between them. The apartment nearly shook with the force of whoever happened to be at your door, and you certainly didn’t doubt that your neighbors heard the knocking as well.

Mallory looked at you in utter confusion, but stayed on the bed nonetheless with no sign of getting up. Naturally, you found yourself scooting closer to the end of the bed, knowing it was you who was going to have to get the door.. and that made you scared shitless. Not because you were necessarily scared to open the door but because you had a horribly bad feeling on who was on the other side.. There was only one person that you knew of that was aware of where you lived, and you knew it wasn’t matience or staff.

You knew standing up was the logical thing to do but you still stalled. Hands starting to painfully dig into the soft, expensive sheets that lie underneath you. You mouthed a silent, ‘what the fuck?’ to Mallory but your head snapped back at the door..

Three more knocks which were only louder and more persistent than the last.

“Coming!” You quickly called out.

It was pure anxiety that fueled your next actions. You quickly stood up from the bed, trying to walk hurriedly to the door as fast as you could and trying your damn best not to think.. Hoping Mallory also had a idea of who was at the door and also happened to get the fuck out of view.

You didn’t want a repeat of yesterday happening again today, and you knew you wouldn’t hesitate to slap Michael if he tried to flirt with her again. Even though, you knew you weren’t supposed to act like that anymore.. but why should you have manners if Michael refused them as well?

Opening the door swiftly and without a second thought; you stood breathless as you saw a familiar blonde standing in front of you.

You both stared at each other at first - each not daring to have the balls to say ‘hello’ or anything else for that matter.. You noticed how Michael first eyed you up, fully looking up and down your body (as well as peering behind you, hopefully not making eye contact with Mallory). You made a point to just look into Michaels eyes, refusing to do what he was doing.. whatever the fuck that truly was.

“How did you know I would be here?” You breathed.

“I knew it was just a matter of time before you’d come, but it also never hurt to charm the hotel staff a bit,” Michael responded swiftly without a second beat, almost as if he anticipated your words. His lips upturned slightly at the edges, in a way that nearly made your stomach sick.

“The hotel staff-?!”

“I have connections everywhere y/n, I thought you knew that,” he sneered.

He brushed past you as you continued to stand in shock. Your mouth slightly falling open as Michael took a few steps into your apartment - looking curiously around, almost as if he knew Mallory was here..

“I did.. I think that’s obvious,” you shot back hurriedly. “But thank you for the apartment again, Michael. I still feel weird taking it but it is nice I’ll admit,” you continued. Hoping to make him turn around to look back at you and hopefully not find Mallory.. Which worked. At least for a few seconds at least.

Michael made direct eye contact with you for a moment, almost as if he wanted to speak but was deliberately choosing not too. Instead he turned around, walking in deeper in the apartment.

Your mouth immediately dropped open - your feet carried yourself forward as you started to feel a bit numb with shock- not knowing even in the slightest how you were going to handle the situation if Mallory didn’t fucking move.

Sure enough..

“You always manage to linger.. don’t you?” Michael spoke.

It took only a couple steps for you to fully realize he wasn’t speaking to you. You only saw his backside as you approached them. Quickly meeting Mallorys gaze as you came into view.. Her brown eyes darker than ever as she peered up at you.

This time it is nearly impossible to distinguish whether she looked in agony from Michaels appearance or yours; since you apparently interrupted them. Her gaze quickly returned back to meet Michaels before you could think anything of it.

“I’m not here to see you, Michael.” Mallory announced. Her tone harsher than what you were expecting what apparent friends would use.. Were they even really friends?

Mallory suddenly stood up while Michael was still standing a few feet in front of her. Making eye contact with Michael for a split second before almost ducking around him before she stood in front of you.. leaving Michael speechless behind her. She quickly hugged you, her arms only embracing you for a split second before leaving. It was obvious she was in a hurry to leave now but.. you weren’t sure exactly why.

“I should get going, you and Michael have a lot to talk about,” she subtly smiled before turning to leave.. not letting you reply or have any sort of reaction to her words.

You stood solemnly as you heard Mallory’s footsteps gradually go farther away, before hearing the door open and close. You watched Michaels back as he refused to turn around.

“How was your nice chat with Mallory?”

“Why are you asking? Am I not allowed to see her or something?” You bit back. Your words possibly twice as venomous as his were.

Michael hastily turned around, looking at you with utter disbelief. His blue eyes looking into yours, as if he was suddenly surprised by your tone and how you were acting - as if his behavior didn’t proceeded yours.

“You need to relax,” he snapped. He approached you until he was right in front of you. “I wasn’t asking because I’m trying to control you, I know that’s what your thinking,” His words fell soft until they were nearly inaudible. “I just wanted to ask what she talked to you about.”

“About us?” You prompted.

“Well what else would she be talking to you about,” he snickered. His words spoken as more of a statement than a question. His laughter quickly dwindled off after he saw how rigid your frame suddenly looked. “Kidding. For the most part.. she said she was going to talk to you, and I figured I should actually speak to you this time rather than her.”

“Are you.. actually trying to trust me, Michael Langdon?” You teased. A smile, as well as laughter escaped from your lips at the mere thought.

Even though the thought was amusing on its own, you still didn’t completely trust him. Even now when he had Mallorys trust (for the most part), you still didn’t doubt that he had a ulterior motive.

Michael finally stepped back, hesitantly breaking eye contact before inaudibly beckoning you to follow him.

“I’m trying, just like how I told you I would,” He hauntingly reminded you.

You followed him silently to the long leather couch that sat by the overly expansive windows. Sitting down next to him in a way that felt almost too casual.. but being casual around Michael and not borderline fearing for your life was something you would have to adjust too.

You noticed how he instantly slipped his shoes off; drawing up his feet on the couch.. his arms and as well the rest of him contained. Away from you.

“So if your trying.. now,” you suggested uncertainly. “Then.. tell me why you came here to talk suddenly again? I mean why not just go through Mallory again like you’ve doing previously?”

“(Y/n), please. Take me seriously and just trust me for once,” His words came out quick and stern as he spoke them. “I was being serious yesterday, as well as all the other times when I told you I wanted to start.. putting effort in and trying.”

You stared at Michael utterly dumbfounded.. Feeling a bit hopeless that you actually felt almost.. touched by his words. That’s if he was actually being serious, anyway.

“What does trying mean to you?” You asked carefully. Your mind naturally went back to Madison.. were they even broken up yet? Was that even something that Michael was willing to do for you, and how was that something you could just ask? “What about-“

“Madison’s fine. She’s fine.. with everything,” he replied hesitantly.

You simply ignored the fact that he seemed to pick up what you were talking about almost immeadietly.. focusing on rather the latter part of the sentence.. that she was okay with everything?

“So she knows? That you’re here?”

“Yeah. She knows but that’s besides the point. Madison isn’t a part of the equation anymore, I don’t want to talk about her,” He spoke as if his words were final and not to be argued with, but his tone wasn’t angry. He was just done.. and you were too.

You wish that wasn’t the case though. Cutting Madison off didn’t sit right with you in the slightest, and it would definitely have to be something that would have to be mended later. That was a given.

Madison and Michaels relationship was far too close for them to suddenly split and remain like that forever - it was temporary, but so is everything really. That shouldn’t phase you but - it still managed too.

“Okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ you started.

“It’s fine. I knew you would ask.. She’s the reason why I’m here actually,” His eyes broke contact and averted down to his hands. “I don’t mean that as in I’m not here to see you but, it was something she said that brought me here.” He continued, his voice almost growing soft now at just the mention of his ex girlfriend.. and now, you felt like you actually were starting to understand his point of view. Not fully but, it was clear that Michael was trying to be more open with you, and this time he wasn’t ‘fake’ drunk.

It took nearly everything in you to not immeadietly retort but just like the night where you were at the party; you tried to fully hear him out since this was apparently one of the few times he was being civil.

“So Madison gave you advice and you actually took it?” You said while laughing softly. Trying to lighten the mood since Michael seemed to be brooding.

Michael didn’t laugh back but instead his gaze flickered up to meet yours for a moment. The corners of his mouth upturning in a shallow smile that only lasted for a few seconds.

“I did because it made sense.” He said, his tone still remaining serious. You noticed how careful he was being with his words.. something that was typical for Michael to do but this time it seemed a bit too deliberate. You wanted to ask what exactly Madison even told him to do but.. that felt wrong. “It was also the right thing to do.. Being close to you is something I should’ve done a while ago, probably immeadietly-“

“But what’s in the past; stays in the past. And since your so adamant about being close to me.. we can always try now,” you cut in.

Michael continued to sit a good distance away from you; you thought it was ironic how he could talk about wanting to get close with you but wouldn’t dare to move any closer. That thought made your pride a little bit too happy.

Right before he could open his mouth to say something; his phone rang. The sound suddenly earsplitting and blaring but Michael didn’t bother to flinch. Instead he stood up and answered his phone.. making sure to nearly trek across the apartment before he said anything into the phone.

You stretched and casually examined him as he talked, you had a feeling who it was on the line..

After how tense things were with Mallory - you knew they probably weren’t going to be on friendly terms anytime soon.. especially in front of you. And judging by how.. oddly relaxed he seemed (yet timid when he caught your gaze and realized you were staring), it had to be one person.

You were about to sink back into the couch and try your best to not speculate what they were talking about, but before you could fully turn - you realized Michael was sauntering towards you.. clearly still on the phone.

Oh fuck.

Before you could ask what was wrong, the look he gave you alone ushered you to silence.

He quickly held the phone away from his ear. A quick glance at the screen confirmed that the call was still active.

“You said you forgive Madison.. right?” He spoke lowly. His words barely audible, more so mouthing the words than actually speaking them.

You looked at him with a expression you’re sure looked as if you were furious but you were really just completely confused. You wanted to ask but.. there was no time if she was on the phone, but knowing what you were about to get yourself into would also be nice to know.

His eyes had since lost the sharpness that had nearly cut you earlier, instead swarming with urgency and a bit of panic.. It had to be Madison. The only person that could ever have that effect on Michael was Madison.

You simply nodded in response. Not trusting yourself to speak quietly outloud but you also didn’t exactly trust your response because it wasn’t exactly truthful, but Michael seemed to be level headed.. for now.

Michael immeadietly turned and held the phone back up to his ear, this time staying in closer proximity and within ear shot. Putting on his shoes as he continued to hold the conversation he was having.

“Okay

...

So when are you coming?

...

Great, see you then. . . Bye.”

If you didn’t just hear the words that you thought you had heard.. you knew under normal circumstances your heart would’ve ached when you realized how Michael hesitated before he said goodbye, most likely catching himself before he said ‘I love you’. Instead though, you felt a gruesome wave of nausea suddenly rise through you.. urging you to shakily stand up and speak without thinking.

“She’s coming to see you?”

Michael barely gave you a second glance as he turned around and started to head for the front door of the apartment.

“Yes. You’ll be seeing her too, don’t worry.” He spoke before he quickly let the door shut behind him.

You continued to stand, utterly speechless.

Part of you wanted to run after him and the other part merely wanted to scream in anger that he had already made fucking plans but instead you felt numb. Numb and calm.

You returned to your bag and unpacked, trying your best to not let your emotions consume you like they previously had too many times.. until you finally broke down and called Mallory.

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @langdons-pinkyring @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @mindlesschicca

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#michael x reader #Michael Langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon fanfiction #Michael Langdon #my fic #Imminient Annihilation #hopefully y’all like this and it’s not all over the place djdjd #about to post to ao3 like always #ALSO thank u for the 2k hits on ao3!! 🥺💖#also side note - Jennifer’s body was amazing and now I wanna write something related 😭

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captcas · 3 years

Text

Something to Hold Onto by captcas

Emma Swan has always had two superpowers. First, she can always tell when you’re lying. Second, she can retreat into the magical storybook she was found with to visit her fictional friend, Killian Jones. When Emma gives the book up, she wonders if she’ll ever see Killian again. read on ao3

Phoenix, AZ; November, 2000

Pregnant?

Emma slides down the tile wall of the Shell bathroom. Usually she’d do everything in her power to avoid touching anything in a gas station restroom. Right now she can’t find it in herself to care about the amount of infectious diseases she’s being exposed to, her eyes fixed on the two pink lines that just threatened to change her entire life.

Threatened? More like promised.

She jumps when she hears a knock on the door, “Ems? You ok?”

It isn’t until she wipes the tears from her cheeks that she realizes she’s started to cry. Neal knocks again, “Ems! You good?”

Clearing her throat, she musters up the will to answer, “Yeah, uh, just a minute.”

She scrambles for her backpack, desperate for an escape she’s not entirely confident will be there.

It’s been too long.

When her fingers touch the cool leather of the mysterious book that has somehow woven its way into every important moment in her life, a sense of calm overwhelms her. She knows that avoiding her problem isn’t going to change anything, but right now, she couldn't care less. As she settles in her lap, the positive pregnancy test laying the floor in her periphery, she thinks back to the first time it allowed her to escape.

Des Moines, IA; 1989

Emma hears footsteps coming from down the hall and quickly pulls her blanket over her head. She hates the way it makes it hard to breathe but she also fears what’ll happen to her if she gets caught up past curfew again. She holds her breath as the door creaks open and doesn’t move again until the door shuts and the footsteps walk away. Coming out from under the covers, she takes a deep breath of fresh air. Once she’s sure no one else in her bunk is awake, Emma pulls the thick, leather book out from underneath her bed. This book is one of the only things her parents left her; a book, a blanket, and a name. Ever since she could read, and even before, if her foster parents were kind enough, she’s poured into these stories– escaping reality for ogres, pirates, princesses, and true love. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the stories almost seem ever changing and expanding. She never has to choose what to read, the book opening and picking a story for her– although she finds herself partial to the updates of the young Snow White.

Tonight she opens to a brand new story titled “The Brothers Jones”. She’s never heard of this fairytale, but that’s how most of these stories start out until they twist and turn into well-known characters from movies that the other kids watch to pass time. It seems rather short, but Emma doesn’t mind, especially seeing as it’s way past her dictated bedtime. She hunkers down into her pillow and begins…

Once upon a time there were two brothers. Liam, the eldest, was outgoing and mature, helping their parents around the house and picking up odd jobs around town to help with trips to the market. Killian, on the other hand, was quiet and kind. He often found himself staying home to take care of their mother. At ten years of age he was too young to get a real job, so their father, Brennan, and Liam took care of earning money in hopes to keep their mother alive.

One night, Killian’s mother took a turn for the worse, her breathing slowing until it stopped. The family gathered around, comforting one another over the loss of Alice.

The following days seemed like a blur for the family, preparations for her funeral taking up most of their time. When the day finally came, the Jones boys were distraught. Her burial became too much for young Killian so he took off to the one place which could calm his worries, Brennan and Liam calling after him as he ran. Liam wanted to go after his younger brother but Brennan stopped him, urging him to give Killian some space.

Emma pauses for a second, shining her flashlight over the picture of the two boys which accompanies the start of the story. Her finger traces over the face of the younger one, she thinks to herself that she wishes she could meet this Killian. She glances a moment longer and turns back to the story…

Killian ends up by the docks, his legs moving on their own accord. He finds an empty slip and decides to sit on the end of the pier, crying over the loss of his mother.

Emma suddenly feels as though she’s drifting to sleep. The words seem to be floating off the page and wrapping themselves around her. When a flash of light surrounds her, Emma is sure she’s dreaming. She shuts her eyes in fear, unsure of where this dream is taking her.

Suddenly, her bare feet hit cold ground. She shivers, still too scared to open her eyes, her hands acting as a makeshift blindfold. She hears what sounds like a seagull and smells what she can only imagine is the sea. It’s a comforting quiet disrupted by the soft sound of someone crying. In a quick bout of bravery, the young girl opens one eye. Gasping, she removes her other hand from her face and her eyes grow wide. Sitting in front of her is Killian Jones, the boy from the storybook. She hesitates, but slowly walks towards him. She now knows he’s the source of the quiet sniffling and pauses, unsure she should bother him. Before she can turn around and explore more of her dreamworld, Killian looks over his shoulder and wipes his runny nose on his hand. He looks at her intently, and Emma is drawn to the deep blue of his eyes which seem to shine brighter through his tears. His eyebrows curve in confusion and he speaks, “Who are you?”

His voice is the most beautiful thing Emma has ever heard. His accent is unlike anything she’s heard before, but it’s melodic and reminds her of her favorite song. She hesitates to respond, but somehow feels comforted by his presence. “I’m… I’m Emma. Are you… Killian?”

His eyebrows shoot to his hairline but he gives her a soft smile, “Yes, miss. I’m sorry I don’t recognize you, I’ve never seen you here before.” He scratches behind his ear as she struggles to explain where she came from.

She’s sure she can say anything, she’ll wake up in the morning and Killian Jones will remain the figment of imagination he is, so she’s honest. “Oh! I’m not from here. I’m from Iowa! Well, at least I’m from Iowa right now…”

“Iowa?” Killian questions her once again. “I’ve never heard of such a place. I don’t get to travel much. Is it close to here?”

Emma decides to sit down next to him, both of their legs swinging over the dark water. “I think I’m pretty far from home. One minute I was reading in my bed and the next I was standing behind you.” Emma flinches at her own honesty but reminds herself it can do no harm. She’s finding peace in this dreamworld, she almost feels as though she has a friend.

“Well, Emma, I don’t know how you’re here but I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad moment.” He hangs his head, fiddling with a hangnail on his left hand.

“Your mother…” Emma says it in barely a whisper but Killian hears it all the same. She clasps her hands over her mouth.

“How did you––” He looks afraid of her and she hates it.

“Killian, I––,” She reminds herself again he’s just a dream, “The book I was reading… you were–– are a character in it. That’s how I knew your name, and about your mom. I also know about your brother, Li––”

“Killian? Is that you? Killian!” Emma is cut off by who she can only assume is Liam looking for his little brother. She scoots a bit away from him and hides her face in embarrassment while he turns to talk to his brother. Confusion was etched across Killian’s face before they were interrupted.

“Aye, Liam. It’s me. I’m sorry for running, it’s just… mother… she––” Killian is practically toppled over by a hug from Liam.

“I understand, Killian.” Liam looks as though he’s been crying but smiles and rubs his brother’s head. “I’m just glad you’re safe.” It’s then that he notices Emma. “Brother, who is this?”

Killian’s neck heats up with blush and Emma has to suppress a giggle. “Liam, this is Emma of Iowa.”

Emma chuckles loudly this time and Liam looks a bit confused but brushes it off quickly, “Ah, hello Emma. I hope my little brother hasn’t burdened you with our troubles too much. Where is your family?”

Killian mumbles something that sounds like “younger brother” and Liam smirks slightly. She supposes it’s something between siblings and ignores the ache for a family that lives deep in her soul. Emma snaps out of her melancholy to answer, “Oh, um, they’re at home.” She shoots a look at Killian, urging him to help her keep her secret. She once again is warring with the part of her brain which says none of this is real but shoves it down in light of Liam’s stare. “I should be going.”

Killian looks like he’s about to say something when Liam speaks, “Ah, yes, well we should be getting back to our parents as well.” Liam’s voice cracks at the word parents, but he continues his strong facade in front of his brother. “Ready, Killian?”

“Aye, I’m right behind you, brother.” Liam hesitates but turns away to leave Emma and Killian to say goodbye.

Emma speaks first, “I’m so sorry about your mother, Killian.” She looks down at her hands, she’s never had parents, but she can imagine watching one die is not easy.

“It’s ok, Emma. Liam and I will manage.” Emma can tell he’s being brave for her but she lets him continue. “You go home now, I’m sure your parents are worried.”

“I don’t have parents, I’m an orphan.” It bursts out of her before she can stop herself, her innate need to be honest with Killian taking over. She’s scowling now, ready to spit back any pity he throws her way, but when she looks up, all she sees is understanding. He nods at her.

“Will I see you again, Emma? Friends are all too rare in my life.” She smiles softly, happy to have made a friend herself.

“I hope so, Killian.” They smile at one another and she hears Liam call him from a distance. Killian nods once more and runs to his brother, glancing back over his shoulder one last time. Emma smiles, and watches him fade from sight.

As quickly as Emma landed in this world, she is back in her bed. The book sits open on her side table. She grabs it, hoping to see more of Killian’s story to add fuel for the rest of the night’s dreams. Emma is shocked at what she sees. Side by side are the text of her encounter with Killian, and a perfect sketch of the two of them sitting on the edge of the pier. Emma expects to be scared, but instead she’s comforted by the drawing of her and her new friend. She closes her book, and places it in it’s hiding spot, easily drifting off to sleep with memories of ocean air and the sound of Killian’s voice.

Phoenix, AZ; November, 2000

She hasn’t visited him since Ingrid— it’s not fair that she uses him like this, but she needs him.

And he promised. They promised.

With a deep breath, she opens the book and thinks of her friend as the warm light surrounds her and takes her away...

Sea air fills her lungs as she finds her footing– the breeze a sure sign she’s landed wherever Killian finds himself these days. She orients herself by finding the water and spots a ship coming into land– Emma would know that ship anywhere. While she can tell it’s the Jewel, the vessel’s usually regal presence seems tarnished somehow. As it nears the shoreline, she sees Killian at the helm. A smile spreads across her face before she can stop it– he always looked so at home on the water. As he nears the beach, Emma senses something different about her old friend. He’s older, each of them learning long ago moves differently in their separate worlds– almost as they need it to rather than on any set timeline– but she can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it than age.

Killian directs the crew effortlessly, not a single soul arguing with him. The ship hits land and Killian gazes over the side long enough for Emma to notice the heavy space beside him. Something’s missing– someone’s missing. It dawns on her as the ramp hits the sand… Liam.

Killian walks off the ship with a swagger she doesn’t recognize– a false confidence she’s positive only she would recognize as a front. Second guessing her decision– maybe she’d stayed away far too long– Emma reaches for the leather book. Selfishly, she takes one more look at her friend, or the man which used to be. He scans the beach with a stoic look that only falls away when he meets her gaze. A smile breaks out across her face as he runs towards her. She lets go of the book, anxious to learn more about where she is and what Kilian’s been up to. He barely says hello before she's wrapped in his arms choking up at the pure innocence of his laugh when he picks her up and twirls her around.

“Emma Swan!” Killian puts her down, swiping a soft curl from her cheek, “It’s been so long, love.”

Emma can’t speak, she’s changed since they last met, but not like him. Studying him, she releases him from her grasp and her hands trail down his arm, hesitating when her left one hits something foreign. Killian flinches and tucks it under his jacket. She’s still unable to put a finger on what’s different, but her old friend, always sure and steadfast, seems… lost. She can’t help but speak candidly, “Killian, where is Liam?”

He smirks, a mask unfamiliar to her aside from her brief glimpse of him exiting the ship, “Ah, yes, ‘fraid my brother was lost to the sea.” He gazes off before seemingly being startled into remembering her existence, “Emma! You can’t be here, it’s dangerous.”

Emma looks around for the first time since she arrived and realizes this place is unlike any portside town she’d landed in previously. “Where exactly is… here?”

If she didn’t know better– Killian Jones is not afraid of anything– she would’ve sworn she saw fear flicker across his eyes, “Best you not know. Why are you here? Is everything alright?”

His genuine concern reminds her of the pregnancy test she left in the Shell bathroom. Never one to mince words and never sure how long they truly have, Emma breaks the news abruptly, “Killian, I’m pregnant.”

Now she knows its fear– coupled with a brief flash of sadness that she doesn’t have the energy to dissect– that crosses his gaze, “Emma, ho–”

She cuts him off, she doesn’t want to answer the questions, doesn’t want to disappoint him, “It doesn’t matter. I will be ok, I just… needed to see you.”

He nods before turning to a small man in a red beanie who has hovered close by but out of earshot for the entirety of their conversation. “Smee, it will be dark soon. Gather supplies and take the crew aboard. I will return shortly.” The man nods before yelling a feeble attempt to wrangle up the rest of the crew while Killian leads Emma closer to the water’s edge. She knows there’s more to everything happening here than he’s letting on, but she also knows that if he’s not telling her, it’s with reason.

They find a small alcove, hidden from the ship, and Killian takes her in his arms swaying slowly. She can’t help but giggle, “Killian, what are you doing?”

“Just, I know you probably don’t have long, but please– before you go, just– one dance.” She nods, this tradition is one she should’ve seen coming. They danced the first time when Emma was nervous for her first homecoming dance– he taught her how to slow dance. Her next trip was to tell him she’d moved again and never gotten to go to the dance after all– so they swayed once more... that was the last time she’d visited.

As they settle into a comfortable stance, Emma feels something cold hit the small strip of skin exposed at her back. Logically she knows it should be his left hand, but the chill feels metallic. She stops herself from flinching, not at what must be a prosthetic, but at the temperature of the metal. Meeting his gaze, she can tell her lack of response comforts him briefly before the exhaustion and fear returns to his features. He forces a smile before pulling her closer— clearly, he doesn’t want to be here anymore than she wants to be home, so she dances. Killian hums quietly, a melody she’s heard many times before and often sings to herself when she needs the comfort of her friend. They don’t speak at first, the soft sound of his hum and the distant white noise of waves hitting the sand more than enough to fill the air around them.

Emma feels another wave of fear fall over her and breaks the silence, “I don’t really know how, Killian.”

He leans in closer, “It’s easy. Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He winks at her and they feel like children again— twirling in fields of flowers and playing along the shoreline. For a moment, she forgets the monumental changes waiting for her at home and just tries to be happy. Killian spins her around, dipping her, and making her laugh like she hasn’t in what feels like her entire life. He slows and begins to hum a different shanty she doesn’t recognize but causes her to sway back and forth all the same. She has to stop herself from jumping when he speaks again, “I know you’re scared, Swan, but you can do this.”

Emma doesn’t tell him that she knows she can’t, that she knows Neal can’t– or that he won’t. Instead, she just savors the moment with her best friend.

Whether he’s real or fiction or an impossible dream stopped mattering long ago— Killian is always here, a constant in her inconsistent life, and that’s worth everything to Emma. She gazes into his eyes, as easy to lose herself in as the ocean, and he looks back. They’re practically nose to nose and Emma can see every scratch, bruise, and line of exhaustion that covers his face.

He’s still one of the most beautiful humans she’s ever seen.

Maybe it’s that realization that causes her to lean in ever so slightly. His eyebrow raises quickly before mimicking her movement. They have history, it’s patchy and incomplete, but it’s theirs and no matter what Emma always finds herself back in this fantasy’s arms.

He’s fiction, always has been, but he’s been an escape all the same. Emma doesn't second guess her decision to kiss him– no harm, no foul when this is all a dream anyway…

But it never comes.

Their moment is disrupted by a loud cawing noise. It almost sounds like a bird, but the way he flinches and the stoic fear that settles across Killian’s face hints that, whatever made that noise, is not to be messed with. His back stiffens beneath her hands before he moves in front of Emma. Using his left hand– no, hook– he pushes aside the tree blocking their view, “I’m sorry, Swan. You need to go. Now.” He turns back to her frantically, and with fear in his eyes growing, she has no choice but to believe him.

Her heart is beating loud enough that she's positive he can hear it too and she’s not sure if it’s the imminent danger or the fact she almost kissed him.

He’s not real, Emma.

Still, the look in his eyes fools her into playing along once again, rushing back towards his ship as darkness falls like a blanket across the beach. Emma stops him, selfishly pulling him behind a bush for just one more moment alone. “When will I see you again?” She isn’t sure why she’s asking when it’s always been up to her.

He smiles at her before pulling her tight, “Just hold onto this— to us and our parallel existences.” His right hand cups her cheek and she takes a moment to find comfort in his warmth, “You’re one of the only reasons I’m alive, Emma Swan. Let me be your something, as you are mine.”

Emma can feel herself crying now, the reality she’s returning to feeling scarier than whatever has Killian rushing her home, but he’s counting on her to survive, so she will. “I’ll see you soon, Killian.”

He smiles at her one more time, bright and hopeful, “Aye, Swan. I’ll be waiting.”

With that, she feels the warmth bubble inside of her as the light surrounds her once again and takes her back. In no time at all she’s sitting again on the dingy tile floor of a gas station in Phoenix. She holds the book close once more before putting it back in her bag. She sighs, remembering Killian’s faith in her, as she grabs the pregnancy test and goes to break the news to Neal.

As she leaves the bathroom, she’s startled by two officers with their guns drawn. As she’s told to raise her hands up, the lifted watch Neal gave her for her birthday catches the harsh fluorescent light and the positive test falls from her hand clattering against the linoleum at her feet.

Phoenix, AZ; August, 2001

“Emma, are you sure?” The doctor questions her as he wraps her crying son in a towel.

She refuses to look, the tears and sweat stinging her eyes. Emma knows if she holds the small boy, she won’t be able to give him up. The doctor turns away, placing the small boy into a bassinet behind him and Emma feels a weight lifted from her. Being given up herself, Emma swore she’d never put a child in that position, but she also never thought she’d be giving birth in prison.

The recollection of her own upbringing sparks something inside of her, “Wait!” The doctor turns around, something like hope in his eyes. Emma knows he thinks she’s changed her mind, but in reality, her decision has only been further solidified by her choice not to send him off alone. “There’s a book. In my personal belongings. It’s leatherbound and full of fairy tales– please, send it with him.”

The doctor looks at the guard who nods before sending their partner to retrieve the storybook. She’ll feel safer knowing even a piece of her— and a larger piece of Killian– will be with her son no matter where he ends up. The book made her feel like her parents at least cared enough not to send her off alone, and she hopes it provides the same comfort for her son.

It can be his something to hold onto.

Slight melancholy aches through her at the realization she’s given up her right to visit Killian ever again. She thinks he’d understand– support her even. Still, Emma smiles softly as the book is placed next to the hospital crib before drifting off where memories of distant lands keep her fast asleep.

Boston, MA; October, 2011

“Another banner year.” Emma blows out the blue star candle, and makes the simplest of birthday wishes. As she begins to unwrap the cupcake there’s a knock at the door. Startled, but curious, she opens it to a young boy looking at her like she’s standing on her head.

“Can I help you?” Emma’s had a long night, and while she could really go for some girl scout cookies, she doubts the small boy outside her door at 8pm is here to sell her any.

“Are you Emma Swan?” He tilts his head as he asks, a simple movement that Emma almost finds endearing.

“Yeah. Who are you?” She’s trying not to be impatient, but she really needs to take a shower and wash off the scum from her skip earlier that evening.

“My name is Henry. I’m your son.”

Well she wasn’t expecting that .

Storybrook, ME; 2011

Henry’s adoptive mother is– something. Regina Mills is not who Emma expected when she spent late nights picturing Henry with a family, but he has a roof over his head and everything he could ever want. And the town, Storybrook, is quaint and safe. Henry seems healthy.

What more could she have wanted for her son?

Maybe to not have the gut feeling that something— no everything — is off in this town.

Regina (aggressively) asked her to leave after dropping Henry off, but she can’t find it in herself to head back to Boston just yet. She wanders into a small diner that touts an attached inn, and the warm atmosphere is beyond inviting. Against all previous plans, she settles herself onto a stool at the bar and orders herself some hot chocolate. As she sips her drink, she takes in the rest of the diner only to realize almost everyone is looking at her. Almost. There’s a dark haired man with his back to her sitting in one of the booths. Emma finds herself fixated on him, and the fact that, unlike everyone else in the diner, he couldn’t seem to care less that she’s here.

A waitress in a short red skirt drops off soup at his table before making her way back towards Emma. “Hey, new girl. You want some food?” Startled by her forwardness, Emma responds with a stutter, “I– uh– no– I’m not– uh.. Why is everyone staring at me?”

The girl– Ruby if her name tag is anything to go by– belly laughs before answering, “Girl, we haven’t had visitors to this town in ages .” Emma isn’t sure how to take that but Ruby doesn’t seem to mind as she keeps talking, “I mean, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever had a visitor in this diner. Strictly regulars. That’s why they’re staring, hun. Not to mention, you’re pretty easy on the eyes.” She shrugs her shoulder in Emma’s direction and winks with a wolf’s smile.

She’s spunky and Emma likes her, “Well, I’m happy to be your first. Do you have any rooms?”

Ruby scoffs again, “All of them– no visitors remember? Except room 9, Sailor Boy over there has taken up permanent residence in that one.” The waitress motions towards the man in the back booth before flagging down an older woman asking for a room key.

Emma glances again at the dark haired stranger, wanting to know more, but having no real reason to strike up a conversation. Before she can approach him, she’s being handed a key and ushered up the stairs to her room by a pushy old lady that everyone seems to affectionately call Granny. She settles in for the night, her curiosity about the town and its residents only growing the longer she stays.

When she wakes up, it’s to Henry knocking on her door again. She opens to find him practically vibrating, “You stayed?!”

She can’t help but smile at his excitement, finding it hard to tamper her own, “Yeah, kid, I did. Don’t you have school or something?”

Henry smiles, “Not for another hour, wanna grab some breakfast?”

Emma nods and follows her son– not sure she’ll ever get used to that– down the stairs to grab some breakfast from the diner. They order from the counter when all the booths are full, but decide to move when one opens as their food is ready. Emma thanks Ruby, grabbing their plates of waffles, before turning towards the booth just as someone walks behind her. The plates crash to the ground, both her and the man she bumped into bending down to help with clean up. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“My fault, lass. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Emma knows that voice– would know it anywhere.

When she doesn’t answer, he looks up at her, concern etched across the animated eyebrows she’s known for almost her entire life. If she wasn’t positive before, she is now, the blue eyes that haunted her dreams for years after giving up the book are staring directly back at her. “Killian?”

He looks stunned, but there’s no recognition in his eyes— eerily similar to their first night so many years ago on the docks. The warmth of his gaze, the excitement at meeting once again, and the hint of infatuation Emma always stopped herself from hoping for are gone without a trace. The unsettled feeling that’s sat in Emma’s stomach since the moment she and Henry crossed the town line the night before seems to boil over. All the air feels as though it’s escaped her lungs, suffocating her as she realizes the only person she’s ever come close to calling her best friend has no idea who she is. Her fear is solidified when he speaks again, “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

@mariakov81 @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4 @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @teamhook @nikkiemms

#captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #cs ff #cs canon divergence #captain swan fanfiction #capthamm #bye capthamm #captcas

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

Text

Podcasting "Qualia"

This week on my podcast, I read “Qualia,” my May, 2021 Locus Magazine column about quantitative bias, epidemiology, antitrust and drug policy. It’s a timely piece, given the six historic antitrust laws that passed the House Judiciary Committee last week:

https://doctorow.medium.com/moral-hazard-and-monopoly-42e30eb159a8

The pandemic delivered some hard lessons about quantitative bias — that’s when you pay attention to the parts of a problem that you can do math on, not because they’re the most important, but because you know how to do math.

The most obvious lesson comes from the failure of exposure notification apps, which were supposed to take the place of “shoe-leather” contact tracing, wherein a public health workers establish personal rapport with infected people to help identify others who might be at risk.

Contact tracing is a human process, built on trust: trust enough to talk about the intimate details of your life, trust enough to take advice on how to get tested and whether you should self-isolate.

That’s not what apps do.

Exposure notification apps measure whether a Bluetooth device you registered was close to another Bluetooth device for a “clinically significant” period of time.

That’s it.

They don’t measure qualitative aspects, like whether you were close to an infected person because you were in the same traffic jam in adjacent, sealed automobiles — or whether you were both at the Ft Lauderdale eyeball-licking championship.

And they certainly don’t create the personal rapport that’s needed to understand each person’s idiosyncratic health circumstances and complications — whether they need child care, or are at risk of losing their under-the-table jobs if they self-isolate.

We didn’t want to commit the resources to do contact tracing at scale, we didn’t know how to automate it — but we did know how to automate exposure notification, so we incinerated the qualitative elements and declared the dubious quantitative residue to be sufficient.

It’s the quant’s version of searching for your car keys under the lamp-post because it’s too dark where you dropped them.

It’s not just foolish, it’s also deceptive — quantizing qualitative elements is a subjective exercise that produces numbers that seem objective.

This is where antitrust law comes in. Prior to the neoliberal revolution of the Reagan years, antitrust concerned itself with “harmful dominance,” with regulators asking whether mergers and commercial practices were bad for the world.

Obviously, “bad for the world” is hard to measure. Regulators evaluated claims from all corners: both political scientists worried about the outsized lobbying power of large companies and workers worried about monopolies’ outsized power over wages and conditions got a say.

So did environmentalists, urban planners, and yes, economists, too.

The Chicago School — hard-right conservative economists with cult-like status among Reagan and big business simps — insisted that all this qualitative stuff had to go.

They argued that consideration of qualitative elements left too much up to judges, so two similar companies engaged in similar conduct might get different verdicts out of the antitrust system. This, they said, make a mockery of the notion of “equal treatment before the law.”

Instead, the Chicago Boys — led by Robert Bork, a Nixonite criminal and a sort of court sorcerer to Reagan — demanded that qualitative measures be left behind in favor of a purely quantitative analysis of whether a monopoly hurt “consumer welfare.”

The way you’d measure “consumer welfare” was by checking to see whether a monopoly was making prices go up — if not, the monopoly was deemed “efficient” and thus socially beneficial. Prices are numbers, numbers can be measured.

But that’s not how it worked in practice. When two companies wanted to merge, they could hire a Chicago fixer to construct a mathematical model that “proved” that they resulting megafirm would not raise prices.

No one could argue with this, because Chicago School consultants had a monopoly over building and interpreting these models — the same way court magicians laid exclusive claim to the ability to slaughter an animal and read the future in its guts.

And if the prices did go up? Well, the same Chicago model-makers would be paid to produce a new model to prove that the price-rises were not the result of monopoly, but rather, rising energy costs or higher wages or the moon being in Venus.

Even by their own lights, “consumer welfare” was a failure. Monopolies drive prices up. Amazon Prime is a tool to drive up prices in every store, not just Amazon:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/01/you-are-here/#prime-facie

Apple’s App Store monopoly drives up app prices:

https://www.engadget.com/2019-05-13-supreme-court-apple-app-store-price-fixing-lawsuit.html

Luxxotica bought every eyewear brand and every eyewear retailer and the world’s largest optical lens manufacturer and drove prices up 1000%:

https://www.latimes.com/business/lazarus/la-fi-lazarus-glasses-lenscrafters-luxottica-monopoly-20190305-story.html

The highly concentrated pharma industry raises prices every single year:

https://patientsforaffordabledrugs.org/2021/01/14/2021-price-hikes-pr/

What’s more, there’s a straight line from “consumer welfare” to price-fixing.

Think about publishing. A decade ago, the Big Six publishers were embroiled in a bid to force Amazon to raise ebook prices, which led to fines and settlements for harming “consumer welfare.”

Today, the Big Six publishers are the Big Four, because Random House, the largest publisher in the world, gobbled up Penguin and Simon & Schuster. When RH, S&S and Penguin were three companies, it was illegal for them to collude on pricing.

But after their mergers, the three former CEOs — now presidents of divisions within an unimaginably giant company — can meet in a board room and plan exactly the same price-fixing strategy, and that isn’t illegal under “consumer welfare” antitrust — it’s “efficient.”

The Chicago School’s “consumer welfare” was only ever a front for “shareholder welfare,” the ability of large firms to avoid “wasteful competition” and extract an ever-larger share of the take for shareholders at the expense of customers, workers and the public.

The entire business of “consumer welfare” is a fraud, starting with Robert Bork’s insistence that a close reading of the US’s four major antitrust laws will reveal that they were never intended to be used for any purpose *other* than consumer welfare protections.

This is manifestly untrue, a Qanon-grade conspiracy that is refuted by the plain language of the statutes, the statements of their sponsors, and the record of the Congressional debates leading to their passage.

Despite the wealth of evidence that US antitrust is not a “consumer welfare” project, neoliberals have insisted that their project was not “reforming” antitrust, but rather, “restoring” it to its original purpose.

It’s a Big Lie, and they know it. That’s why GOP Senators Mike Lee (UT) and Chuck Grassley (IA) introduced “The TEAM Act to Reform Antitrust Law” — a bill intended to neutralize the muscular new antitrust bills that just passed the House committee.

https://washingtonmonthly.com/2021/06/25/the-plan-to-water-down-antitrust-reform/

The bill does two things:

It takes antitrust authority away from the FTC, sidelining the incredible Lina Khan, a once-in-a-generation antitrust scholar who now runs the agency; and

It codifies “consumer welfare” as the basis for US antitrust law.

That second part is the tell: after 40 years of insisting that any rational reading of US antitrust proved that “consumer welfare” was obviously its sole purpose, they’re now introducing a law to *change* its purpose to “consumer welfare.”

Like the Stolen Election lie, they never truly believed this one. The pose of objectivity that quantizing antitrust allowed was never about creating a truly objective standard for competition policy — it was only ever about neutering competition policy.

The thing is, there is a way to integrate both the objective and subjective into policy-making — as was demonstrated by David Nutt’s 2008 leadership of the UK’s Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs, which established the policy framework for a wide range of drugs.

Nutt’s panel of experts rated drugs based on how harmful they were to their users, the users’ families, and wider society. This allowed him to sort drugs into three categories:

Drugs that were dangerous irrespective of your public health priorities;

Drugs that were safe irrespective of your public health priorities; and

Drugs whose safety changed based on whether you prioritized the safety of users, families or society.

Those priorities are a political choice, not an empirical finding. Nutt told Parliament that it was their job to establish those subjective priorities, and once they did, he could objectively tell them how to embody them in the rules for each drug.

This is a beautiful example of how the objective and subjective fit together in policy — and the tale of what happened next is a terrible example of how “consumer welfare” hurts us all.

You see, booze is one of the most concentrated industries in the world. The “consumer welfare” standard let booze companies buy one another until just a handful remain — globe-straddling collosii with ample resources to influence policy-makers.

Nutt, an empiricist, reported just as rigorously on the harms of booze — one of the most dangerous drugs in the world — as he did on other drugs. He was fired for refusing to retract his true statement that tobacco and alcohol were more dangerous than many banned drugs.

Thanks to “consumer welfare” antitrust, the alcohol industry is able to choose who its regulators are, and use their political influence — purchased with the excessive profits of a monopolist — to rid themselves of pesky officials who actually pursue objective policy.

You can read the column here:

https://locusmag.com/2021/05/cory-doctorow-qualia/

And here’s the podcast episode:

https://craphound.com/news/2021/06/28/qualia/

As well a direct link to the MP3 (hosting courtesy of the @InternetArchive; they’ll host your stuff for free, forever):

https://archive.org/download/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_395/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_395_-_Qualia.mp3

And here’s a link to my podcast feed:

http://feeds.feedburner.com/doctorow_podcast

Image: OpenStax Chemistry: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Figure_24_01_03.jpg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic

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robinofinashiro · 3 years

Text

“turn it up it’s your favorite song / dance, dance, dance to the distortion / turn it up keep on repeat / stumbling around like a wasted zombie / yeah we think we’re free / drink, this ones on me / we’re all chained to the rhythm

pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem! reader

request status: CLOSED

note: i start my semester this tuesday so like BIG SAD but I swear I’ll try and not fuck with my posting schedule or go IA for weeks at a time. i’ve also been having a lot of AoT reqs and as much as I love them, I get tired of writing for it all the times.

a few of the heroes were called in for some meeting regarding a hero incident that happened a few weeks back. you weren’t actively apart of the situation when it initially happened, however; they had called all younger pro heroes to a conference to go over some protocols and new rulings.

you hadn’t been a hero for long, working under a few smaller heroes until the Symbol of Peace caught onto you. you weren’t working under a huge agency at the time, so when All Might called for you to transfer agencies, detecting that you had more potential under him, you immediately moved.

it wasn’t an unknown secret that you were connected to him. although you weren’t exactly what many people thought when they thought of All Might having a ‘sidekick’ or intern, they could see it in your fighting style how much you learned from him.

the charisma, the change in personality, everything changed about how some thought of you. you were more willing to talk to the media, happily attended events for kids, and a smile never left your face. All Might was proud to see your change as he realized that you had finally grown into the hero he knew you would become.

you tapped at the notebook sitting in front of you, hoping that they called the meeting early. you hadn’t gotten enough sleep for the past few days, thinking that all of you were in trouble for the incident. every now and again, you would hear the winged hero laugh or crack a joke about something and it started to grow more and more annoying.

the downside of constantly working at All Might’s agency was that you hardly had any downtime. you weren’t exactly close to many heroes or even associated yourself with them considering AM’s agency limited the heroes they took in and at the moment, it was really just you and another older hero that worked in it.

“( your hero name ), you’re ranked in the top five, why don’t you give us a run down on how you approach the media in a kid friendly way?”

your eyes widened, not realizing that he was speaking to you directly. you took a gulp before looking at all the heroes, “well, I guess you just have to make sure you don’t overwhelm the media with something that’s over exaggerated and dramatic. when trying to speak to a younger audience, you have to be a bit soft spoken, smiling constantly, and assuring them that they’re not in any danger. I know as heroes, it’s hard to remain calm in a scary situation but reaching the kids and having them able to listen to you can even calm yourself down,” you explained, “keeping kids safe should always be a priority because they can set a precedent for heroes.”

the heroes stared at you, some in a deadpan way, others a bit mesmerized. they could sense the All Might vernacular coming out of you but to a specific hero, they could see the way you were nervous around your peers.

Hawks knew about you. it was hard not to hear of All Might’s current pride and joy. he saw your interviews when they came on the news but the one thing that stuck out to him was how you hardly ever came around other heroes when down time actually presented itself.

you were very private with your personal life, something that rivaled Edgeshot. your personal life wasn’t very out there and it wasn’t like you tried to hide it because you could have cared less but whenever you did have down time, you were usually at home asleep or catching up on something else.

finally, you sat down, staring down at your notebook again as you tried to wipe your hands on your uniform pants. seeing all those eyes on you made your hands get sweaty and clammy.

the meeting ended not long after your small lecture and although you didn’t have anything to do after this, you were rushing to get your things together and leave before anyone that wasn’t the media caught up with you. however, that wasn’t exactly what you got.

“hey! ( your name )!” you heard Hawks’ voice call out for you. you stared at ground, wondering what the hell he could want from you. you waited for him to catch up, “hey, you okay?” he asked, a smirk playing at his face.

your eyebrows fluttered in confusion, “yeah, why?” you whispered. Hawks shrugged, “just saw you getting nervous back there,” he mentioned.

you didn’t know how to respond but you slowly started to walk towards the entrance doors, hoping he would leave you before the media rushed everyone walking out.

“I got a bit nervous seeing everyone looking at me, that’s all.” “but you’re around the media all the time?” “Hawks, do you have anything to ask me? I’m just not used to being around people my age.”

he saw the slight anger rise in you but decided not say anything as you gave him one final look before walking out of the door and being rushed by camera’s and reporters. a smile instantly hit your face as reporters asked you questions about the conference and overall general questions about work.

Hawks knew that he could probably get an earful from you for what he was about to do but as he walked out of the doors, he went over to the cameras that you were talking too and gave them a huge smile as he put his arm around your shoulders.

“good afternoon everyone!” he said happily as he saw your face contort to confusion and slight fear, “Hawks! are you friends with her? maybe even more?” one of the reporters asked as Hawks gave them a hearty laugh and waved them off.

“nah, we’re just really great friends, isn’t that right?” he asked you. you remained wide eyed and silent, not knowing what to say, “we were just talking about going out for a friendly date and had to get confirmation from her,” he told them.

you finally snapped out of it, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I gotta go! I’m due at my agency no later than three and I’ll be late if I don’t head out now,” you told the reporters before taking his arm off you and basically darting in another direction.

the reporters looked at Hawks as he quickly recovered and talked to them a bit before telling them goodbye. Hawks had no idea that you were going to get that flustered over the small prank, realizing that he might’ve gone a little too far with it as you were no where in sight anymore.

you got back to the agency, seeing a few of your coworkers looking at you were a smirk on their face. they instantly pointed to the TV’s, showing you the extremely failed interview you had with Hawks not even a few minutes ago.

“so did you say yes to that ‘friendly’ hangout?” one of them asked. you groaned, your head hitting the wall, “no, what do I look like hanging out with the number two hero? you know I don’t really make unannounced public appearances to begin with.”

your coworker laughed, seeing your nervous expression.

“come on, you’re like the hardest worker in this damn agency! you could take one weekend off and enjoy it for fucks sake.”

you shook your head no but before you could say anything, you saw All Might enter the agency. you instantly bowed as he waved you off.

“he’s right you know. ever since you transferred to this agency, you haven’t had a day off and it’s high time you take a weekend off for yourself. enjoy your youth while you still have it.”

“All Might, you know I’m a very in demand hero, I can’t just take off a week-,” All Might cut you off with a slap to the back of the neck, “trust me, we’ll be okay for a weekend. I know better than anyone how it is to run yourself into the ground. take this weekend off and relax.”

you knew it was best to not continue arguing with your boss and silently agreed before heading to your office to finish up some paperwork. you had no idea what you were even going to do for this weekend. all of your errands, aside from getting groceries, were done and you were sure that Hawks probably didn’t mean what he said earlier.

your clock out time hit and you huffed, telling all of your coworkers that you would see them again on Monday. they could tell you were reluctant on leaving them for so long but the break didn’t sound so bad to them considering you worked around the clock, 24/7 for them.

as you got to your car, you figured you might as well make your own dinner since you couldn’t even remember the last time you did that. the only thing stopping you was that you hadn’t brought a change of clothes so you were practically stuck wearing your uniform to the store.

the grocery store was a bit farther out of the city. when picking a home, you had decided to go out and choose something that wasn’t in the middle of town. you wanted some peace of mind when you got done working and choosing a home a few miles out was your perfect idea.

once you walked inside of the store, you were happy to see that it wasn’t exactly packed. a few people here and there but most of them just waved or asked for a quick photo before letting you get back to what you were doing.

“hi, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of where I would find you dairy free options?” you asked one of the workers. she smiled, pointing over to the aisle a few sections down. you thanked her, walking over the aisle when you realized you had ran into the last person you expected, “ohoho, funny finding you here,” you heard the winged hero say.

you nodded, pointing to the soy milk, “yeah, All Might gave me the weekend off because of the ‘prank’ you decided to pull earlier today,” you murmured, grabbing the two cartons of milk.

he laughed, pushing his hair back before grabbing the basket that carried all of your groceries. you gave him a confused look, not really knowing what his intentions were.

“skip your dinner tonight and come out.”

you let out a laugh, not really caring who heard, “uh, no. I think I’ll pass,” you said trying to grab your basket back. he sighed, not letting it go, “I’ll give it back when you agree to come out with me,” you growled, your head hitting the cold cement wall.

“for what? what would I have to offer you if I came out with you?” “nothing! but like I told you earlier today, the fact that you can only talk to kids without getting nervous is kind of embarrassing.”

you stared at him confused and pissed off.

“you throwing insults at me isn’t helping your situation Hawks so you have about fifteen seconds to give me my shit back before we start fighting in this grocery store.”

Hawks put his hands up in defeat, sensing that you were actually being serious about kicking his ass.

“come on, just one night and if you absolutely hate it, you will never have to do it again. I already promised some people that you would come out tonight too.” your eyes widened at what he had said, “who the hell did you promise?” you practically screeched.

“Mirko and she might kills us if we’re late,” he murmured, “now?” you exclaimed as he put down your basket of groceries, leaving it on the floor before grabbing your wrist and running down the store.

you apologized to everyone that you accidentally hit on your way out, them instantly brushing you off thinking that maybe an incident happened and that’s why you both were running out of the store in a hurry. you grabbed your keys out of your bag and walked towards your car.

“just message me the directions to wherever the hell you’re dragging me too and i’ll meet you there.”

Hawks nodded, making you put your number in his phone as you walked to car slowly. you figured that if the plans Mirko had for the three of you was urgent, you figured that both Hawks and Mirko were planning on wearing their uniforms to the event.

Hawks had informed you that you were going to meet him in the fancier side of town, claiming that it was just a small dinner all of you were going too.

which was a complete lie.

once you arrived to the destination, you realized that this wasn’t a dinner event. this was a Hero Billboard JP after party event. you had heard of it from All Might considering he was invited but his agency hadn’t qualified to attend the event since his agency was purposely ran to not have many heroes in it.

the reason why you hadn’t been invited was because even though you were high on the JP ranking scale, you hadn’t had enough years in your belt to be considered for the awards they were giving out.

“Hawks, Mirko, I wasn’t invited to this,” you informed them, “I nor All Might’s agency qualified for this event so it would be wrong of me to attend the after party for it.”

Mirko looked at Hawks before she chuckled, “you weren’t invited but who said you weren’t someones date,” she said as you realized what she meant. you turned to Hawks who was laughing to himself, “you’re going to cause me premature grey hairs,” you stated.

you and Hawks walked behind Mirko, them informing you that the only way you could enter was if you and Hawks walked through the line of reporters that were crowding around the front of the entrance. Hawks saw your face drain of its color as the nervousness crawled up.

he gave you a genuine smile, not really knowing how to help you before grabbing your wrist gently, “you’ll be fine,” he murmured.

you nodded as the two of you approached the line and put on huge smiles on your faces as the cameras immediately turned to you, reporters yelling for your attention, asking rapid fire questions. you looked to Hawks, telling him you should at least approach one before they sensationalized what was going on between the two of you in gossip shows and magazines.

you approached the most nicest looking reporter, “(your hero name), it’s nice to see you! you’re here with Hawks!” she exclaimed. Hawks laughed, “is there something going on here? first in the morning, now at this event? is this the way the two of you are going public?” she asked.

Hawks chuckled, glancing at you quickly, “wouldn’t that be crazy? the number two hero and the number five hero dating? I guess we’ll never know,” he mentioned, grabbing your hand and scurrying away.

“Hawks! that was rude!” you exclaimed, “she was nice and you just ran off on her,” you lectured, Hawks not knowing whether to laugh or stand there and get lectured. he didn’t have enough time to choose as Mirko and a few other heroes approached the two of you.

“you’re going to give our new friend a heart attack Hawks!” Mirko yelled, slapping Hawks in the arm. he tried dodging her, failing easily, “relax, I doubt they’ll do anything with that footage,” you sighed, seeing the bar not too far from where you were.

“I’m going to get something to drink, I’ll be back,” you told them, quickly walking away. you had no idea how to start up a conversation with them. you felt very out of place, feeling as though they were just stringing you along with them because they felt bad.

“are you okay? you seem a little out of it?” you heard Mirko’s voice say. you gave her a small smile, “I’m fine. just not used to this kind of thing,” you admitted, taking a sip of the extremely hard liquor you had ordered. Mirko giggled at the face you were making.

“just relax! plus, if you’re wondering, this is the first time Hawks has ever done this with anyone. it’s surprising to all of us that he even came, nevertheless with a date. Hawks might act like an entitled brat but I promise you, underneath those layers of entitlement, he’s not that bad.”

you remained silent, not knowing what to do with the information she gave you. after the two of you talked, you walked back to the group of heroes, trying to engage with them a bit more. every now and again, you would walk with whoever wanted a drink, just to give them company so they wouldn’t be alone.

eventually, all of you got a table, sitting and drinking with each other. you couldn’t lie, the alcohol was hitting your system a bit more harsher than you thought it would. the buzz was swirling in your head as you chugged back a glass of water to see if you could shake it off.

“I’m going to get some air. I’m getting a bit stuffy in here,” you told Mirko as Hawks stood up, offering to accompany you. you gave him a smile, walking out of the side door that led to an unlit alley, “how are you enjoying the night?” he asked.

you tried to steady your breathing, hoping you were able to calm the buzzing feeling down, “yeah, it’s nice to get out,” you replied, a yawn coming from you, “but I’m feeling the alcohol a bit,” you said.

the rest of the time you stood quietly, leaning up a bit against Hawks as he let you. you had no intentions of getting this close to him but with the alcohol mixing with your empty stomach, your actions spoke louder than the thoughts your brain were screaming at you.

“i appreciate you taking me out tonight. it’s not every day someone like you offers for me to come out,” you mumbled, trying not to look at him in the eyes. Hawks hummed, bringing you in a little closer, “don’t worry about it. someone had to get you out of your shell, right?” he asked.

you rolled your eyes, Hawks lifting up your chin to look at him, “plus, someone as cute as you shouldn’t be cooped up inside all the time,” he added on. “reporters might think that you and I have a thing together if you continue to be this way,” you mentioned, trying not to get flustered.

he shrugged, not really caring for what this round of gossip magazines had to say about your relationship with him.

“I don’t care, let them think what they want,” he whispered as you brought him closer to you. your lips were barely touching each other, “but I get the idea that you might want to continue this thing we have going on,” you joked.

Hawks nodded, finally smashing his lips with yours, making you a bit surprised by the actions. you returned the kiss, your eyes shut as you felt Hawks grab your hand softly and hold it. once you let go, you saw the ghost of his small flustered expression on his face.

what the two of you didn’t realize was that as the two of you were in the middle of the heated make out session, a reporter who was on their way to their car had spotted the two of you, smirking to themself as he quickly snapped the photo of you two and darting to his car.

“so does this mean I’ll get a date tomorrow?” Hawks asked making you laugh. you thought for a moment, making him stand on edge, “text me tomorrow and you’ll have your answer,” you joked, running back inside of the venue, making him chase after you.

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x-ia-n · 3 years

Text

━ confession song.

➞ including: yuu nishinoya, gn!reader** **

overview: in which despite how confident he seems, yuu nishinoya hesitates in confessing to you.

word count: 1.1k

➼ haikyuu masterlist

↳ main masterlist

↦ fluff bc i can’t bring you angst on christmas eve, unrequited crushes but not quite, [you are] is an alternate version

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

‘stupid tanaka,’ yuu thinks, getting him into this mess. how was he supposed to confess to you, anyway? he was just a libero in their volleyball team, and openly obsessed over one (1) girl before he met you. his desk at home is littered with drafts of love letters he’s written to you; a drawer is filled with completed ones, he just can’t choose which one to give you. ryuunosuke suggested that he bakes you a cake because ‘who doesn’t like cake?’ and like two peas in a pod, sharing one collective brain cell, he agreed.

that brings us to the present, as yuu desperately looks for the ingredients listed on a small piece of paper. he could always go to coach ukai’s shop, but he wants that as a last resort. it’s christmas eve, and he sure as hell is running out of time if he wants to give the homemade cake for you and your family on christmas.

as he looked through the supermarket aisle, he’s rehearsing what he should say to you. he’s tried to confess once or… three times before, all of which either got interrupted or turned out badly. the libero remembers when he tried to confess to you but yamaguchi accidentally hit you with a serve and caused you to get a nosebleed. ryuunosuke tried to calm him down before he went feral on his junior.

he paid for the ingredients with the money he saved up - which he had only for the sole purpose of confessing to you - and started heading home. he was mumbling under his breath, “hey, i really like you… no. i know this is probably out of nowhere but will you go on a date… no.”

he was so focused on his words and didn’t realize that he wasn’t on the way home. yuu found himself standing in front of your doorstep. it isn’t his intention- oh god, what if you think he’s weird or something? how did he end up at your doorstep? as he turned on his heel to leave, the front door opened.

“yuu?” you asked, genuinely curious to see your classmate right outside your door. he froze mid-turn.

“what are you doing here? it’s the holidays.”

he smiled sheepishly as he faced you. “i brought these,” he lifted the grocery bag. “and i thought, why not bake a cake with you.”

you beamed at him, inviting him inside. the boy started thanking all the deities he could think of for making him sound so smooth and suave. the libero took off his shoes before stepping inside. he let himself be guided into your quaint kitchen, and that is when panic settled in. he’s inside your house, alone, it seems - you briefly mentioned to him that your parents were shopping for christmas dinner - and you’re going to bake his confession cake together. oh my god, he’s actually going to confess to you.

you both spent an hour making the batter, getting sidetracked when he smeared some of it on your face. a competitive glint shone in your eyes as you threw a handful of the leftover flour onto his hair, earning a yell from him. he isn’t mad, couldn’t even get himself to sound mad as your laugh rang like soft chimes of bells in his ears. you cleaned your face with a washcloth and passed another one to him, saying, “the flour will hopefully stick to the damp towel.”

yuu rubbed the damp cloth on his hair vigorously, trying to get the bits of flour off as you popped the cake batter into the oven. “hey, yuu-” you stopped, the words dying on your tongue as you see him with his hair down for the first time.

“yeah, y/n?” he asked, his eyes shining at you. you shake the thoughts from your head, “aren’t your parents going to worry?”

the boy grinned and flashed you a thumbs up. “nope! i told them i’m at your house and they’re fine with it. they like you, so that’s not really a problem to them.”

internal panic ensues.

you’re panicking as you realized he talks about you, to his parents. his parents. the very people you want to impress because you undoubtedly have a massive crush on their son and he practically revealed to you that he talks about you.

the libero, on the other hand, is dying inside. his soul left his body as his words sunk in. will you hate him for talking to his parents about you? do you find it weird? do you think he’s a creep? he hasn’t even come close to confessing and you might already reject him. did you even register what he said? he hopes not.

“noya…” you trailed off.

because of his nerves, he ended up bowing to you and stuttering as he shouted out, “i like you!”

a blush rapidly spread across his face in embarrassment, but you couldn’t see as he’s still bent forward. “yuu.”

he shut his eyes as soon as he straightened up and began to ramble. “i’m sorry! you probably didn’t expect this, and it may be out of the blue. hell, you might even think i like kiyoko, and i do- but not in that way! i,” he opened his eyes to see you standing so close to him, that he could see the faint traces of a blush on your cheeks.

he bowed once more, “i like you, please accept my feelings!”

“i like you too.” you say to him. yuu raised his head to look at you and felt his heart soar. “wait, you do?”

you rolled your eyes at him, and smirked. “i have been flirting with you for the past year. and i gave you chocolates on valentine’s day. i don’t even like valentine’s day.”

he moved closer to you and opened his arms. “can i?”

as soon as you nodded, yuu engulfed you into a tight hug, lifting you a good few inches off of the ground. the smell of his cologne - it smells different, he put on a new one, perhaps? - was intoxicating, but you couldn’t have it any other way. he set you down and pulled away for a bit, a goofy smile plastered on his lips.

the faint ding of the oven timer sounded, and both of you were brought into reality. he carefully took out the cake in the oven, and that’s when it clicked.

“you got ingredients for my favorite cake?” you asked, peeking from behind his shoulder.

“yeah, it’s supposed to be a confession cake!” cue you stopping once again. as much as he likes seeing these reactions from you, he was kinda disappointed how his confession didn’t go the way he planned it to. all is well though, as now he confessed to you, and you happen to feel the same.

the love letters in his drawer will make their appearance one day.

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mimiswitchywrites · 3 years

Text

Not A Burden: Chapter 11

TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references, child/s***al a**se references (not graphic but enough that could be triggering).

Period typical h***ph**ia and internalised, alcohol mentions?

Master list or read on AO3

2.4k words

If you want to be tagged for updates, message me or comment!

---------

Merlin left soon after Gwen, face void of emotion. Miriam tried to stop him before he left, wanting him to explain what she had done wrong, but he shrugged her hand away and walked, head forward.

She went to bed early, blowing out the candles and hiding under her blanket. Dreams plagued her – she saw the faces of every woman she had slept with. They laughed at her, threw stones, dragged her to the noose. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to be upset by this.

She deserved it.

She woke before the sun, throat tight, heart racing, mind numb.

The kitchens were quiet that day – there were no meetings with the King scheduled and so they were just preparing the usual meals of the day. Bea made small talk with her occasionally, but Miriam noticed that the cook was be short with her. Maybe Gwen or Merlin told her what happened last night.

She kept her head down and avoided people as much as possible – clearly, she had done something wrong, and she had no desire to make matters worse by saying something to the wrong person.

That it, until the after-luncheon break rolled around.

She was exhausted, sweat pooling on her forehead and chest. Her eyes were heavy from her restless sleep and she still couldn’t piece together which part of last night had led to such animosity within the kitchens. She couldn’t help but worry Bea wouldn’t want her working there formally and so, with little care left, Miriam did something terrible.

Juliana – a twenty something laundrette that was popping in for her own lunch – approached Miriam with a quizzical expression. She recognised Miriam after Lancelot pointed her out in the courtyard a few days prior and she could tell the woman was in distress. She walked towards the woman with trepidation – not wanting to spook her in her riled-up state. She was practically an arm’s length from her before she noticed.

Juliana was beautiful, that was the first thing Miriam thought. Not like Gwen, no, but the kind of beauty that one knows they have, the kind that one uses in their favour. Her cheek bones were high and fierce, eyes passionate. Her lips were rouged and plump – they reminded Miriam of this one apprentice she had worked along side almost five years prior.

“Hello.” Even her voice was attractive: soft and melodic but an undertone of something else. Something sensual. It brought a blush to Miriam’s cheeks.

“Hello yourself. Do you work here?” Juliana shook her head, mouth curving into a smile which Miriam found herself mimicking.

Juliana took another step forward, Miriam standing her ground. She lifted her head to look up at the stranger. “I work in the laundry. My name is Juliana.” She leant down, mouth brushing Miriam’s ear, “What’s yours?”

Miriam felt herself shiver at the sound, pulse racing. Her legs clenched at the tingles sparking between them. “Miriam.”

“Well, Miriam,” Juliana stepped back to look into Miriam’s eyes, “it has been a pleasure to meet you, but I must return to work. Unless you wish to do something else, that is?” Her smile was sly and knowing, eyes with a mischievous glint. Miriam found herself nodding before she even processed the question. She took Juliana by the hand and lead her through the kitchens, keeping an eye out for Bea who had disappeared outside for some fresh air. They arrived at the back of the long room, next to a small door: a storage cupboard. With one last glance behind her, Miriam pulled the pair inside and closed the door.

Gwen rubbed her eyes. Surely, after all that transpired last night, she was mistaken. She refused to accept that Miriam, the woman who tore her heart in half (whether knowingly or not) was taking Juliana by the hand and leading her towards the back storage room.

And yet, even after shaking her head, taking a deep breath, and rubbing her eyes again, that is exactly what she was seeing.

And oh, how it hurt.

After gathering all the food that had been requested and setting it neatly onto three separate plates, Gwen found her eyes drifting towards the cupboard again. She had tried with all her might to shut her eyes off to the sounds of pleasure emerging from inside as she grabbed rosemary from the hook beside the room, but she was still forced to hear more than she had wanted. Despite her anger, her pain, Miriam’s voice was clear, and it did things to Gwen’s body that she truly wished it wouldn’t. Even when moaning Juliana’s name, Miriam had a tremendous affect on the young serving girl.

Gwen hated it.

With tears in her eyes and a heart of lead, she balanced the plates across her arms and made her way towards the Lord’s room.

Luckily, Gwen bumped into Merlin before she got to her destination. He caught the trays (Gwen pretended she didn’t see the glow in his eyes) and, after straightening themselves out, he noticed the look in her eyes. The ways her eyes shook with tears and she was biting her lip – brows pulled taught. He immediately softened, shoulders relaxing to comfort her.

“What’s wrong, Gwen?” His voice was soft but laced with concern. It broke her. The flood gates opened and tears streamed down her face. She did her best to prevent herself from sobbing aloud – they were still in the corridor and she was meant to be on duty. He pulled her to the side as some Lady walked past, and gently wrapped his arms around her, placing the plates on the floor first. She sagged into his chest, shaking.

He rubbed his hand in circles over her back, whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

With a hiccough, Gwen pulled away, tears finally running dry. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and pushed the balls of her hands into her eyes to get rid of the wet. Her shoulders still shuddered slightly, and her breathing was irregular.

“I’m sorry, that was unprofessional of me,” she bent down, reaching for the plates to set on her way, “I shouldn’t have done that, I have work to do.” Merlin intercepted, grabbing her wrists softly.

He pulled her up to standing again, shaking his head at her. “Gwen, it’s okay, you don’t need to do anything. I am sure whoever was after food has ordered someone else to get it for them by now.” She bit her lip harder at this, hating the way it sounded like she had failed her duties. Hated the fact that she had failed them.

Sensing her train of thought, Merlin started up again, “You didn’t do anything wrong; you needed a break – it was a hard night. I’ll explain it to Steward if he asks, you’ll be fine.” She nodded, still unsure.

“Thank you, Merlin.” Her voice was thick with phlegm and tears.

He nodded, smiling down at her. “Now come on, let’s go sit down somewhere.”

“What about…?” She gestured to the plates.

Merlin shrugged, grinning mischievously, “Arthur hasn’t eaten yet, how about we eat like Lords and Ladies for the afternoon?” She gasped, eyes growing wide, before coughing out a laugh. She nudged him, nodding, and picked up two of the plates, leaving the third for Merlin to pick up.

They set off towards Arthurs room in silence, bumping into each other every few steps playfully. Gwen’s head hurt from crying so much over the last few days, but she was happy to know Merlin was still there for her. He always would be, she was sure of it. Her heart still stung from last nights discussion, and her whole chest felt like it was imploding as she played over what she saw and heard not even an hour before, but she had her friend with her and that was as good a distraction as any.

They arrived before she knew it, the walk a blur. Merlin barged in, as usual, and Gwen followed with as much dignity as she could draw together.

Arthur was sat behind his desk, hands together with chin resting on top. Her looked frustrated at the paper in front of him, but his face broke into a smile at Merlin’s arrival.

And then dropped slightly upon seeing Gwen. Or, the rational part of her mind interjected, at her puffy eyes and damp cheeks.

“Guinevere?” He looked over to Merlin, eyes racking over his face for answers, “What happened?”

Merlin set his plate on the table and took Gwen’s from her hands. She was frozen in spot, looking between the King and the floor. She was biting her lip again and beginning to taste blood. Without her noticing, Arthur approached and lifted Gwen’s chin so he could look into her eyes. There was so much pain in them, he noticed. He pulled her into a hug, chin resting on the top of her head. She sighed, out of tears.

“What happened, Guinevere?” His hands squeezed her arms in a comforting manner.

“She – Miriam – I--” She broke off, voice thick again.

Arthur pulled away, thumb rubbing over her cheek lovingly. Merlin watched from beside the table, looking just as concerned.

Gwen groaned, rubbing her hand over her face. She pulled back from Arthur and sank onto a chair with a thud. Merlin and Arthur quickly followed.

After devouring a hand of grapes, Gwen cleared her throat and began again. “Either last night was a total lie, or she is a hypocrite, and I truly can’t tell which.” Merlin stretched a hand across the table, rubbing hers. He nodded for her to continue. “I went to the kitchens to grab luncheon for Lord and Lady Tyrine and their daughter and while I was waiting for the meat to finish being cooked, I saw—” She took a deep breath, “Miriam and Juliana,” she couldn’t help the bitter way she spat her name, “sneak into the back cupboard. Yes, that one.” She directed the last part at Merlin who was shooting a questioning look at her. He nodded slowly, knowing exactly which one she meant but not quite sure he could accept it.

Arthur, who had rarely set foot in the kitchens, interrupted, “What is so important about this cupboard?” Merlin made a series of nods and eyebrow raises before Arthur took a deep inhale, piecing it together. “Oh, right.”

Gwen spitefully tore into her roll.

“But she said…”

Gwen nodded, “I know exactly what she said and yet, judging by the moans I heard, she either doesn’t believe any of the shit she said, or she does, and she is messing with Juliana’s heart.” And mine, she added to herself. She sighed; this was all just too much for her to handle. She had been barely holding herself together after Morgana and now this? She truly wasn’t sure if she would be able to cope with another interaction with the girl. The beautiful, funny, kind girl.

They sat in silence, absently picking at their food.

Miriam straightened Juliana’s skirts, getting off her knees and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. Both their faces were flushed, chests rising and falling quickly as they tried to catch their breaths. Turning around, Juliana took a strawberry from the box behind her elbow and places it between Miriam’s lips.

“So people don’t go smelling me on your breath.” She pulled the leaves away, replacing them with her own mouth and stealing a kiss. Miriam’s hands found Juliana’s waist and she pressed them both against the shelves again.

Slowly, she stepped back.

“It was nice to meet you, Miriam.” Juliana whispered, before poking her head out the door and stepping out, raising her hand is a brief wave and disappearing.

Miriam leant back, head resting on the wall. She groaned. She knew she shouldn’t have done that but when she had seen Gwen at the entrance to the kitchens, she couldn’t stop herself.

Oh, how she wished she’d stopped herself.

She brought her hands up to her face, rubbing her fingers in circles over her temples.

“Fuck.” She whispered to herself.

She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders and putting on a pleasant smile, and stepped out into the kitchens. Thankfully, no one seemed to see her leave and she returned to her station seconds before Bea came through the door again.

She kept her head down for the last few hours of work, picturing Gwen’s face the whole time. She didn’t think the girl had noticed them but what if she had? Could she apologise? Did she even need to? Gwen was obviously upset with her for what happened last night (she was no closer to putting together what that actually was) and so maybe it was best not to interact for a little while?

By the time she was let off work, she was practically shaking with unanswered questions. She stumbled up the stairs and through to the courtyard for some fresh air but stopped when she heard drunken shouts.

Drunk.

Gods above, how she wished she could be drunk right now. With a contemplative sigh and a hand running through her hair, she set off towards the lower town in search of a tavern or inn. She didn’t intend to drown her sorrows, merely dull them enough to get to sleep without dreams. She hated the dreams. Not just the nightmares (though she certainly hated them too), but the mundane dreams. The ones where she woke up next to a woman – someone kind and gentle and happy – and kissed her shoulder and cheek before getting out of bed. The ones where she would make them both breakfast and they would eat in bed and wash the pans before setting to work in the field while the woman – her woman – would sit behind the spinning wheel. The ones where she was happy.

The ache in her chest after she woke from those nights lasted all day.

Sometimes she would even forget her reality, confused for a moment upon waking, wondering where her woman had gone to, before realising that it wasn’t true.

She knew it should be a good thing that it was just a figment of her imagination, that she hadn’t attached herself to a woman like that, but it still hurt. And then with Gwen, someone who she wanted to be attached to like that…

She sighed.

#merlin #merlin ff #merlin fic #bbc merlin #gwen #merthur #merlin x arthur #hurt/comfort #gwen x oc #gwen x fem!oc #gwen x morgana #(implied)#not a burden #mimiswitchywrites

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notatallinterestingstuff · 3 years

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With Love, She.

Clang! Blaam! Boom! The echoing sounds of the utensils falling down startled her from her trance. ‘Ughhhh, he’s going to be furious again!’, she thought to herself, picking up the plates in a hurry. It was not the best of days for her. Lunch was not yet ready; the maid has not yet come and Nirav has once again spilled rice on the floor. Arun was about to come home and he would not be pleased with this work. And yet another load on her growing and immeasurable life. She cursed her father under her breath and began trotting the 3-way road again. ‘Hey, you! I am working so hard to maintain the house and you keep a petty fight for some rice? Today, it ends! You are going to clean up the mess!’, she exclaimed with suppressed anger. But then Nirav looked back at her, gave her a mischievous grin and ran out of the house in a flurry. ‘One day, that boy is going to get it from me. But what can I do? My heart doesn’t allow it.”, she told to herself. Exhausted, she returned to her usual chores with a half-hearted attitude. Cleaning the house, doing the dishes, is that my life? Don’t I have dreams? Shouldn’t I too reach failure and then work hard to rise? As she fell into the ever-growing abyss of her thoughts, her mind reached out and grabbed a memory. ‘Daddy, when will we go to the museum?’, the little girl cried at the top of her voice. Her father, in an ever-calming voice replied,’ Don’t you worry child! As long as this elephant is with you, he will ride you to the museum, with free lollipops!”, The girl was now laughing and calm with the help of the tickles from her daddy. On the rickshaw, she asked her father, “Daddy, yesterday I heard the 5th class girls cry about life in the corridor instead of studying. Humph, what cry-babies!”. The father burst out into laughter, responding with a question,” What do you thing life is sweetie?”. “Life is when Ms. Rose doesn’t give us homework and gives us ice-cream!”, she exclaimed in an innocent voice.” But what is life daddy?”, she repeated herself, her innocent and childlike mind wanting to know everything and being restless. Her father, now in a graver voice, replied,” Look at those puppies running frantically behind their mother with utmost love and hope that she will feed them. She does feed them, but without herself eating, knowing that her children come first, even more than her life. That’s life. It is the cruelest thing in the world, but when accompanied with a certain something it makes your life meaningful.’ “Ice cream?”, she answered the question diligently. “Haha-ha! No, my precious darling! Its love!”, he told her. “And remember, no matter what life gives you, remember that love always makes it what it is, and you get to decide what’s life and what’s love”. “Then I love love so much!”, she proclaimed to everyone. She continued to lick her lollipop joyously, unbeknownst to her what life was going to make her do. TTRRRRRRIINNNGGGG! The loud ringing of the doorbell startled her, causing her to cut her own finger a little on the skin. She grimaced in pain as she ran to answer the door. “Hey, sweetheart! Today was so stressful and boring! Could I get a cup of water please? And why is rice lying on the floor? Has Ritesh done this? How can he so irresponsible? Why have you not controlled him yet?”, came in the questions as Arun stormed inside the house from work. “I’ll take care of it, I’m sorry, had a lot of work today.”, she replied trying to stop the bleeding simultaneously. “Did you just cut yourself? How can you be so careless, huh? Sometimes I feel like life is so cruel, always doing this to me!”, Arun castigated her. All she could do was give back a fake smile as Arun brought the bandages. She felt a little comfort even though the wound was stinging a lot. “Let me go buy today’s dinner from outside, you take some rest.”, Arun convinced her. As soon as Arun was gone, she was back to cleaning the dishes, wiping an invisible tear off her eye. Damn you, dad! Why did you have to leave me so early? If it wasn’t for that rickshaw accident that

day, you would have been still here, with me, not lying in a hospital bed for 20 long years, she cursed under her breath. She turned off the tap, wound still stinging, and proceeded to clean the mess on the floor. She knew her life wouldn’t be same after that accident, the sounds of the crash still ringing in her ear, even after 20 long years. She had dreamt to be an IAS officer, make a difference to her nation, but that obstacle set her back at least by a lifetime. Her mother, influenced by relatives and peer pressure, got her married off to Arun Apparkumari, a GM at an MNC. He is a good man, but sometimes doesn’t feel the way that she feels. And, 2 children later, here she is, a grown independent woman by society, but a shattered yet dreaming little girl by heart. She did what she only could do about her miserable life, weep, sometimes for long times alone, as she kept on her apparent duty of daily chores. Just a few footsteps away, a door closed, listening to the unheard sorrows. The next day early morning, she boarded the bus to meet her in-laws, for whom she was the only caretaker. As she took a seat near the window, a wave of fresh air flew through her face. This was the only part she liked about the bus ride. She could see the everchanging world in its glow, nature and man working together to create a sustainable and luxurious life. Cars swept past the bus, metros riding over, people in a hurry to do something important, most importantly women rushing to work, trying to bring about a change in the society. Her thoughts were interrupted by a girl, dressed up fashionista style, on a motorbike and smoking a cigarette speeding through the roads, hurling obscenities at other drivers. That brought back a fond memory from her twenties. It was nostalgic time again. ‘Hey Sathya! Come fast! If Mom finds out about this, they’ll throw me out of the house for sure!”, she shouted in excitement as her friend Sathya came running towards her. “Its fine da! Anyways it’s our last day meeting. Who knows what will happen after you get married and sent off? Start cleaning vessels now itself! You will have practice!”, she laughed hysterically looking at a sulking face. “Come on fast! We have no time to lose!”, she shouted as they both started on a rental bike. As the wind rushed through her face, and her skin feeling the true touch of mother nature, she rode the bike as far as the road took her. It was the happiest she had been in a while. Since her father’s accident, her whole house was in chaos as her gullible mother ignored her pleas and, with the advice of the so-called relatives, fixed her marriage. The only way to spend all her pent-up anger was today. She wouldn’t do anything to miss today’s thrill. That day lived up to its name. Playing with Sathya on the beach, teasing and laughing about the men following them, fun with the waves and finally icecream on the rocks witnessing the grandest and splendor sunset. “What is life da?”, she asked her friend, repeating the question for as long as she had known Sathya relishing her ice-cream. “According to me, it would be travelling the world with my love and enjoy doing what I do. What about you? What’s your thoughts?”, Sathya replied relishing her ice-cream too, not knowing the ripples it caused. She began to wonder about her life after marriage. She was in a deep abyss now, with no way out or no one to help her. When will I get this feeling again? What will happen to me? What about my dreams? “Hello, snap out of it! You’ve gone and dropped the ice cream, now you’ve made me go crazy!”, Sathya said sarcastically. But she ignored that and asked her, “But why only roaming around the world? Why not follow your dreams and pursue your passions? Isn’t that supposed to make you happy? Sathya with a calm mind answered her question,” My dear friend. You have confused yourself with life. Life is not always cruel. When I meant the world trip, I was not going to obviously enjoy the trip. It was the person I love that I’m going to enjoy with. That’s what makes

us all happy. Life doesn’t give us obstacles; it gives us the stairs. Now whether you run on it or trod is your choice.” That sentence was stuck in my mind for a long time. “Madam! Please wake up, the stop has arrived”, said the bus conductor carrying out his duty. Back to the stairs once again, she thought as she got off the bus. Back at home, Arun was waiting. To make a difference. She reached home early. In spite of all the things that she did for her in-laws, they never quite respected her and treated her the way she should. But, she did it for her satisfaction, the way her father told her. Anyways she got to eat some ice-cream on her own! As she opened the door, out came a deafening yell. “SURPRISE!!!!”, screamed Arun, Nirav and Ritesh at the top of their voices. “Happy life celebration day, you idiot!”, Arun screamed sarcastically. “What took you so long? Do you know how much time Nirav spent baking that cake? Even with his girlfriend he doesn’t talk this much time with!”, he joked. “DAAAAAD! IM JUST 11!”, Nirav screamed blushing, a pink color slowly rising on his cheeks. “What’s all this going on?”, she asked with genuine astonishment. “I’ll tell you later, but first have this ice-cream cake. And that too your favorite! Pan masala flavor!”, Arun exclaimed. “Papa, I was busy writing the card. That’s why I gave him the wrong flavor. Don tease me!”, Ritesh shouted feeling guilty. And then, that day, she had a blast. Singing songs, going through old photos, charades with the family and a surprise visit from mom. It was the happiest she had been in days. She wiped out the pains of the last few weeks and embraced the day with full hands. “So now that the kids have gone to sleep, tell what does this life celebration day means, Mr. Party planner?” she asked Arun as they sat near the balcony. “Before I say that, I want to say thanks!”, he replied. “For what?”. “For everything. For the days you had to go to raise those 2 kids to keeping up with my atrocities and my mood swings, taking care of the relatives, and for facing everything that life gave you. It’s going to change from now”, he replied staring at the night sky. “I still don’t get it. What are you trying to thank me for now? It’s not even my birthday!”, she replied still in shock. “It’s even more special! Its Mother’s Day. See, when life doesn’t exactly give what you want, it is up to us to make sure that we squeeze the best out of it. And mothers always do it. They have to. And they always. It’s hard, people won’t get the pain, the losses and the challenges that come with it. But what they also miss is the small tiny happy moments that comes along with it”, he replied calmly to her. And that’s when it hit her. It hit her hard. What her father said. What Sathya meant. What she was missing most of her life. Life is not the true pleasure. It is love. Her love towards her family. Her love that keeps her going every single day, making her strive to just see the smile on her children’s face, to always love her husband no matter what. Its love that makes us feel alive, not life. “Nirav heard you weeping that day. And I almost felt the pain when he said it to me. So, as a family we are going to give you the greatest gift we can think of. Or at least to us accordingly. I can’t afford a necklace or something….”. “Just say it Arun”, she laughed. “Our love and support. From now no matter what you do, when you do or how you do it, its going to be your way. Let it be opening a restaurant or trying for a job or even being lazy like me, no matter what the society or any bloody person says, we will support you. Its your life, you apply the love to it, it will reward you back. That is what today’s life celebration day was. From now, you are not just a hardworking woman. For the society, you are the mother”, he said her, meaning each and every word from his heart. And that day she made a decision. It is going to be love that will lead her, not life. That day she understood what the world tried to express to her in different ways. That day, she

understood love. That day, she became her. With all the love from the multiverse, Ragav

#storytelling #short poetry #short story #emotions #life is strange

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

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A Place to Belong Chapter 8: Full of Grace

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Chapter 7

Another week had passed since the debacle of the missing body. Claire was in the kitchen helping Jenny prepare a few small meals for Ian. He had business in Edinburgh and would likely be gone for about a week. Though he’d be staying in a tavern, the less money he spent on meals, the better.

Jenny was chatting absently as they worked; Kitty was walking more and more now, and she was doing quite well with solid foods as long as they were smothered in strawberry jam.

“Even potatoes,” Jenny said. “It turned my stomach to see her eating such a vile mixture.”

Jenny looked up, expecting Claire to be chuckling as she was. Claire looked up and sighed uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “I promise I was listening, I just…”

“I ken.” Jenny sighed. “I’m sorry fer talking yer ear off. I canna help it. It’s the only thing that keeps me from thinking about…everything.”

“I understand.” Claire gave her a sad smile. “I find myself quieter than ever these days.”

“We’ll balance each other out then, will we no’?”

“I suppose.” Her smile widened a bit. “Potatoes and jam?”

“Och, ye have to see it to believe it.” Jenny gathered their work and put it in a pouch for Ian’s travels. “Tell me, in all yer healer wisdom, when will she outgrow that?”

Claire chuckled softly. “I have no idea. Children hold onto the strangest things for the longest time.”

“I dinna think I can bear putting jam on a roast chicken, so she’d better outgrow it soon.”

The thought of it turned Claire’s stomach, and she had to brace herself on the high table.

“Oh…I’m sorry, sister. I didna mean to upset yer stomach anymore…”

“It’s quite alright…I think it’ll pass…” She reached into her pocket and retrieved the peppermint she’d been keeping there since their trip to Edinburgh. “This should help, either way.”

“It’s been getting better?”

“It has, actually.”

“That’s good. Just in time fer the real discomfort to set in, aye?” Jenny cocked an eyebrow knowingly, taking the pouch in her arms and leaving the kitchen.

“Oh, indeed,” Claire said, following after her. “Do you suppose Fergus is any good at foot massages?”

That made Jenny laugh out loud as they passed through the halls. “I think that lad’d be good at whatever ye asked him to be.”

Claire chuckled. “Oh, I couldn’t really ask him to do that…” She shook her head. “It helped a lot when Jamie did it, last time.”

“Why no’ ask the lad then? Ye ken he’d lay the world at yer feet.” They crossed the threshold onto the front porch.

“I know. That’s the trouble.” They descended the porch steps, stopping briefly to finish the conversation. “He’s just a boy. He’s my son, not my caretaker…and sometimes I feel as if he takes care of me more than I do him.”

“Oh, he’s beyond his years, ye ken that.”

“I do.” Claire laughed, nearly rolling her eyes at remembering their first interaction: a ten year old boy commenting on the quality of her breasts. “He’s seen a lot. But that only makes me want to…shield him all the more.”

Jenny smiled knowingly. “And that, sister, is what it is to be a mother.”

At that moment, Ian approached them with his horse. Jenny handed him the pouch, and he secured it to the horse.

“I dinna like that ye won’t tell me what sort of business it is that ye’ll be doing,” Jenny said. “We dinna need you bringing us any more trouble.”

“Trouble? Me?” Ian said, feigning innocence as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Jenny audibly groaned as he kissed her, but she did not stop him. “Just hurry back, Ian Murray.”

“I always do, Mistress Murray.”

They kissed again briefly before Ian mounted his horse and rode off.

A shrill shriek suddenly erupted from around the back of the house, and they both rushed around in a panic. They both stopped however, breathing a sigh of relief to discover that it was only Maggie, squealing with delight. Fergus had tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and was spinning her about. Wee Jamie stood nearby, jumping up and down, begging to be next to be spun around. Claire’s heart warmed at the sight of her son so naturally at ease with the children.

“You will have to catch me first!” Fergus said to Jamie. He put Maggie down and began running at a full sprint, Maggie and Jamie scrambling to catch up to him.

“He’s still a wee lad at heart in spite of it all,” Jenny said warmly. “Don’t ye think?”

Claire watched, laughter bubbling in her chest at the sight of Fergus transforming into some strange beast that growled and chased after the young ones, causing them to squeal even louder, scrambling away with contrived terror.

“Yes…He’s quite the little imp.”

Jenny chuckled. “He’ll be a fine brother.”

“Yes. He will.”

——

Another week went by, everyone having to work a little harder in Ian’s absence. This particular day had brought with it a water fight at the washtub. Claire had only meant to splash Fergus very lightly to get back at him for a light tease. Wee Jamie had seen, however, and got the idea to practically soak his mother. Jenny had yelped, biting her tongue to prevent expletives from escaping her lips.

“James Alexander Gordon Fraser Murray!” she exclaimed, hands on her hips.

“Don’t be cross with him,” Claire interjected. “I did start it, after all.”

It took a moment, but Jenny’s anger eventually faded into a wicked deviousness. “Right, then.”

Before Claire could process what had happened, Jenny had thrown a large handful of water at her, causing her to squeal. Jamie giggled uncontrollably, then squealed as Fergus soaked him as well. Before long, water and suds were being thrown back and forth by the four of them, and they were all dripping head to toe when Mrs. Crook had appeared on the porch with a hungry Kitty, hopelessly confused.

It was moments like that that made Claire certain that she’d made the right choice. When all her grief could disappear for even the briefest moment, and she could laugh, really, genuinely laugh. She knew that Jamie could see her here now, with his family, with their son, full of joy with them despite the emptiness he’d left in her. She knew that he, too, would agree that she’d made the right choice.

Then, in the following moments, where she dried herself off, put on fresh clothes, looked at herself in the mirror, flushed with laughter, she’d think of what Jamie would have looked like, soaked head to toe in soapy water. How his eyes would have crinkled with laughter, how he’d likely have picked up the washtub itself and emptied it over Claire’s head, just to prove a point. Then afterwards, he’d feign remorse, apologize but not be sorry at all he’d done it. He’d make a show of wrapping her in his plaid, but then once they were alone he would tenderly dry her hair for her and help her change into dry clothes, of course turning his undressing of her wet clothes into something erotic beyond comprehension.

Now, as she sat there, drying her own hair, she wept. In spite of, or perhaps because of the joy she’d felt without him, she wept.

——

Everyone went to bed in relatively high spirits, expecting Ian to be back the next afternoon.

Claire was woken that night from a dead sleep by hands violently shaking her by the shoulders.

“Claire! Wake up! Ian’s been shot!”

“What?” Claire sat up, shaking off her grogginess the best she could. “What happened?”

“The damned fool tried to grave rob Culloden Moor and he was shot at.” Jenny pulled Claire out of bed, and she swiped for her robe on the way out of the room.

“Culloden…?” Claire fought to shake off her sleepiness. “But he was in Edinburgh.”

“Apparently not. There are two men from Broch Mordha in the dining room with him who were apparently in on the whole scheme.”

“He’s been traveling for days with a bullet wound then?”

“Aye,” Jenny said. They rapidly descended the steps and Jenny pulled them into the dining room where Ian was sitting on a chair, servants already lighting candles.

“Help me get him onto the table,” Claire barked at the two men standing by Ian’s side, and they obeyed.

He grunted as he got on, laying down with a wince. “What were you thinking?” Claire reprimanded, finding the bullet wound on the thigh that used the wooden leg. “I need water, clean cloth, and whisky,” she instructed the servants.

“If ye weren’t hurt I’d throttle ye myself,” Jenny said, furious. “I might even do it still, once yer healed.”

Claire cut the fabric of his pants. “Jenny, fetch my medical box.” She obeyed, and a servant came back with cloth, another following behind with water and whisky. “I’m going to need to turn you over since the bullet entered from behind.” Ian nodded, wincing as Claire turned him onto his stomach. “It’s a clean entrance, but I think the bullet is still in there. It’ll have to come out.”

Jenny returned with the medical box. “Out of my house!” She barked at the men who stood by uselessly. Muttering apologies, they dipped out of the room. “Of all the stupid, foolish…!”

Claire poured whisky over the wound, causing a sharp intake of breath from Ian. Claire’s vision narrowed; the world was only her and her patient at the moment.

Jenny stood directly in Ian’s sight, pointedly not fretting over him or holding his hand while Claire cut him open to operate on him. She stared at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Janet…”

“Don’t you dare!” Jenny said.

“You shouldn’t talk, Ian,” Claire said, not looking up from her work.

“I dinna want to hear it,” Jenny continued. “I ken why ye did it, but it was a fool’s errand! What the hell would we have done if ye got yerself killed? Did ye think of that?”

Her voice was dangerously loud. Mrs. Crook put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The children, Mistress.”

Jenny sighed, frustrated. “You’re right. I shouldna be disturbing their sleep because of this fool.”

“I’ll go check on them, make sure they’re still asleep.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Crook.” Jenny immediately turned her attention back to Ian, hands on her hips. “Is it no’ bad enough that I’ve lost my brother? Did ye even think about how I’d feel if I lost you, as well?” Ian could only respond with pained groans as Claire dug around under his skin.

“Jamie is dead, Ian. There’s no getting around that. It’s so fresh I havnae made my peace wi’ it yet, but I was just starting to process the idea of not burying him wi’ the rest of my family.” Her eyes swam with tears. “Do ye think I want him rotting away on the moor? Of course I don’t. But that isna worth yer life. What good would it be to have his body to bury if I’d had to bury yours as well?

“Ye might have thought ye were being brave and noble but ye weren’t. It was selfish.” She crossed her arms again. “Imagine me explaining to yer bairns that ye ran off to get yerself killed just so we could bury the body of the uncle that is already lost to them either way!”

Claire grunted, then sighed with relief. “I got it.” She dropped the bullet into a bowl. “I’ll just have to stitch it up and bandage it now.”

Claire had only vaguely been listening to the argument, if one could call Jenny’s one-sided tirade an argument. From what she could hear, she had to admit she agreed with Jenny. She knew that proper burials were extremely important to the people in this time, especially Catholics. But the aching pit in Claire’s chest would not be healed if there was a body. He was still gone, plain and simple. Did it make her sick to think of his unmarked grave? Of course. But there was little to be done about it, and she’d rather not lose anyone else because of the battle, even if it was indirectly.

“I’m heart sorry, Jenny,” Ian said, sighing in defeat. “And Claire, my apologies to you as well.” Claire briefly glanced up from her stitching to look at his face. “I just…I ken ye’ve both been feeling lost. I thought I could do something to help, so I asked the men and they agreed. They had kin on the moor as well. I’d move Heaven and Earth to bring ye home to me to bury ye properly, Jenny. I wouldna be able to sleep knowing ye were out there somewhere. I canna imagine how ye feel, Claire. I thought a body to bury would bring ye both some peace.”

“Peace that would be no good wi’ you dead as well,” Jenny insisted.

Claire was beginning to feel dizzy, and the bullet wound had nothing to do with it. “Ian…I appreciate what you tried to do for us…for me. But Jenny’s right. It’s not worth your life. I’d never forgive myself if something worse had happened because you were trying to give me peace of mind.”

“Tell ye the truth of it, I didna think it would be so impossible. Didn’t realize there’d be armed guards on a burial site.”

“Then yer a damned fool,” Jenny said. “If ye’d told me what ye were about to do I could have told ye that myself!”

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” Ian said.

“Till I stop being angry,” Jenny said. “Which will no’ be any time soon.”

“Alright. Stitches are done.” Claire cleaned the wound with whisky one last time, then worked to bandage it up. “I appreciate your worry, Ian,” Claire said softly. “But Lallybroch needs you. We can’t afford for you to be hurt, or worse.” She tied off the bandage. “There. You’re going to want to stay off of that for a while. Especially since it’s the bad leg.”

“That’s just what we need,” Jenny said dryly, rolling her eyes.

“Listen to me,” Ian said, trying to sit up.

“Don’t. You need to rest,” Claire insisted.

Ian swatted her away. “I dinna plan to sleep on the table, lass. I’ll get to bed eventually. Help me up.” Claire obeyed, sitting him up carefully.

“Jenny,” Ian said. “Can ye please look at me?”

Huffing indignantly, Jenny met his eye, putting her hands on her hips again. Claire began absently cleaning up her equipment, gathering the soiled cloth, cleaning her hands.

“I wasna able to bring him back to us, that much is clear,” Ian said. “But I did find this.”

“Yer bringing souvenirs back from the battlefield now?” Jenny scoffed. “God’s teeth, if I ever — ”

Her voice cut off, and Claire looked up from her work, shutting her medical box. From where she stood, she could not see what Ian was holding out to Jenny. Jenny suddenly sat down on the nearest empty chair, her knees seemingly giving out beneath her. Claire rushed to her side in concern, and her heart stopped when she saw what he held.

“I found it sticking out of the dirt. Lord knows how I saw it, as tiny as it is, on a field that big.”

Hand trembling, Jenny reached out and took it in her grasp. It was the rosary, the very same one she’d given Jamie all those months ago. Claire sat down slowly beside Jenny, her eyes locked on the wooden beads. Jenny rubbed a thumb over the cross.

“Must have been a message from Jamie himself,” Ian continued gently. “He wanted ye to have it back to remember him by since we couldnae bury him properly.”

Small, shuddery sobs erupted from Jenny. She buried her face in her hands, leaning her elbows on the table, rosary dangling between her fingers. Claire was overcome with grief, a blackness creeping into her heart. Weeping silently, she wrapped her arms around Jenny’s shoulders from behind, resting her head between her shoulder blades. Ian stroked Jenny’s hair, rubbed Claire’s back.

Jenny picked her head up after a while to look at the rosary again through her tears. She adjusted her position so she and Claire could wrap an arm around each other, Jenny’s head resting on Claire’s shoulder, Claire’s head atop Jenny’s. Neither of them had any words as they stared at the wooden beads, perhaps the last thing that Jamie ever held with his own hands that they could ever touch.

“I’ve…been thinking,” Ian said, his voice also touched with emotion. “We can have a proper burial here even wi’out his body. We can have a coffin fashioned and have a priest oversee the ceremony.”

“An empty coffin?” Jenny spoke for the first time in several minutes.

“I’ve heard families of men lost at sea do it sometimes. It’s their way of making peace wi’out a body.”

“Aye,” Jenny said, then sighed deeply. “I suppose that’s what Jamie would want. What do you think, sister?” They both picked their heads up so they could look at each other.

Claire nodded tearily. “Yes, I…I think that’s what he’d want us to do.”

“We can lay his tartan to rest in the coffin,” Ian said. “He’d want to be buried in it, ye ken.”

Claire bit her lip as her vision completely blurred with tears, the threads of her sanity beginning to come apart at the seams, threatening to let her completely break down right there and then.

“Aye,” Jenny said, her voice breaking. She put an arm around Claire again. “He would.”

“Oh, Jenny…” Claire said, coming undone.

“I ken, sister…I ken.”

#outlander #outlander au #outlander fanfic #claire fraser #jamie fraser #ian murray #jenny murray #jenny fraser #jenny fraser murray #fergus fraser

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ratedhaikyuu · 4 years

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hi im sorry if ive been ia for the past 2 days, ill make it up starting tmrw! for now please enjoy this kuroken fic i made weeks ago

☆ Day One ☆

— Kuroo & Kenma

Nothing gets Kenma's attention. He either gives the idea a single nod, showing the least interest or too busy on his video games to give a second thought about it.

So when he sees a strange looking child inside the room Nekoma stayed in during the Tokyo training camp, he was intrigued. Only a little though. Dinner was over and some were taking a bath whilst others, like Kuroo, were still practicing. Still he does nothing about the child. She might be a relative of someone in the team and she was asked to stay here.

Kenma moves closer to his bag, avoiding the little girl's eyes. He sat down and tried to play some video games, not giving the little girl behind him another glance. Yet, much like Kenma, the little girl was intrigued about the game he was playing. She moved closer to him, her chest just a few inches away from Kenma's back.

“What are you playing, Dad?,” She asked, her voice above a whisper. Kenma swore he never moved so fast in his life. He looked at the girl behind her. Did this girl really call Kenma her dad? He could not have possibly knocked someone up.

How could that even happen? That's not possible, right? Maybe this girl is just joking around, so Kenma tried to play it off.

Kenma laughed. “Do you call everyone that?”

“No. Only you. Well, sometimes I call Papa that but that was before.”

Dad? Papa? What was this girl talking about? Kenma was about to ask the little girl another question when Yaku entered the room, followed by a whining Lev. The little girl turned around and gasped, obviously delighted to see the two.

“Yaku-san, can't you just give me a break?”

“What do you mean a break? You don't deserve a break. You know what you deserve? A kick in the ba-

“Uncle Lev!” The little girl ran towards Lev with open arms. Naturally, Lev would smile and accept the girl's embrace as she is the cutest little girl he has ever seen. In this case however, he was being yelled at by a 165cm libero in front of him.

“Didn't know you had a younger sibling, Kenma,” Yaku says as he looks at the girl, noticing the exact same cat keychain of Kenma on the little girl's wrist as a bracelet. How cute.

“They're not.”

“He's my dad. I'm Hoshiko! I'm from the future and was just playing around the house like I always do, but I got so curious, dad! And so I accidentally got into one of your time travelling pods. Sorry,” the little girl faced Kenma as she apologized. He didn't know what to react, and so did the other two young adults in the room with him.

“You're from the future?! What?! That's so cool! What's it like by then? Am I married to the love of my life? Who is it? Oh my God, I have so many questions!”

Lev bombarded the girl with such questions whilst poor Kenma and Yaku are sitting still as a statue in their place as they were minutes ago.

“Wait, how do we know that you really are from the future?” Yaku asked, hesitant to believe someone like Kenma could have a daughter. No offense, he adores the guy. He really does, but just the thought of it seemed irrational at the time.

“I can't really say, uncle Yaku. Time traveling can be quite the pickle if you know too much,” Hoshiko replied, looking down at her feet. “But I can probably show you proof that something will happen! So I guess it's okay.”

“Oi, Yamamoto. When will you ever shut up about not having a manager?” Hashiko was startled for the sudden outburst and quite disappointed that she couldn't share it to Kenma, but came to relax when she saw him.

“Papa!”

Yamamoto freaked when a child suddenly called out papa, but instantly relaxed when she came for Kuroo, letting out a breath of relief. All of a sudden, he screams out of nowhere.

“KUROO, YOU KNOCKED SOMEONE UP?”

“Oi. Shut up.” Kuroo calmly spit back, covering the poor girl's ears for hearing such a language at a young age. Deep inside, he's sweating all nervously. He couldn't have possibly knocked someone up, right? How could he when his heart already belonged to someone else.

He looked down at the little girl hugging his torso. Kuroo sweats ever more when he kneels in front of her to look at her eyes. Then her cheeks. She reminded him of a pudding.

She looked a lot like Kenma.

“She says she's from the future. She also says you're her parents.”

“Parents?”

“You and Kenma.”

“Mhm. Hoshiko picked this date cause you used to tell me how you confessed to dad. That was tonight. In this very room.”

Tension in the room could not be any more thicker than this. Hoshiko was her name? Named after a star. Kuroo looked at her, she seemed to be holding something. He smiled at her, gently taking the object and looked at what it was. It was a locket. He opened it to reveal a picture of him and Kenma.

“It was your wedding day.”

Kuroo couldn't breathe. The room was suffocating him. He had enough trouble gathering up the courage to finally confess to Kenma tonight, but what's happening before him was too much to handle. His chest started to tighten, he couldn't speak. Kuroo got up hastily, leaving the room.

“Oi, Kuroo!”

“Papa!” Hashiko started to run after him, but failed as she got down. She couldn't get up. She wanted to chase after her papa. Hashiko began to cry as her legs were fading?

“Hashiko, what's wrong?”

“I said too much. Now everything's ruined.” When Hashiko told Kuroo about the wedding between him and Kenma, it set off something inside him. Something he never felt in a long time.

Kuroo was supposed to confess to Kenma tonight. Now, Kuroo can't handle the thought of Kenma knowing before he even had the chance to say it first. And because of that, there might not even be a wedding between Kuroo and Kenma. Then Hashiko wouldn't even exist as their child.

And Kenma knew that.

Kenma has played a lot of video games to know enough about time traveling. The instant Hashiko made contact with one of her dads, something will obviously change. Their very future will change. It will be different. Kenma and Kuroo might not get together in the end. Hashiko wouldn't even exist.

Hashiko sobbed. “I'm sorry, dad,” she looked at Kenma with tears falling down her cheeks.

Kenma knew what he had to do.

He moved closer to her little girl and hugged her for the first time since their encounter. It was an action Kenma definitely wasn't used to, but it was an instinctive thing to do in the situation.

He pulled away and kissed her forehead, "Wait here with Lev and Yaku."

Kenma got out of the room, looking for a certain rooster head captain. He had run out minutes ago so he wouldn't have gone far. Kenma looked left and right, just to find out he was sitting on the stairs.

When Kuroo felt his friend's presence, he didn't dare to look. He buried his face in between his knees and let out a frustrated grunt. He can't believe he was outed by a child. Their child. In any other situation, Kuroo would have laughed it off. Or simply just accept it and confess right then and there. He wasn't known to back out in any situation. That's why he was the captain of the school's volleyball team.

Then why did he act this way?

“Was it true? What Hashiko said, that you were going to confess?”

Kuroo couldn't face him. He can, but he'd rather not. Kuroo isn't himself right now. Kuroo's in love, after all.

All he could do was nod his head as a response. He could feel his cheeks burning. Who would have thought that Kuroo would ever be embarrassed about something.

“Why?”

Kuroo couldn't help but look up at the guy in disbelief. Did this guy really asked him why he caught feelings? Did this guy he loved for so many years and have shown it through so many actions just asked why he did so?

“Are you fucking kidding me? Kenma, even I don't know why! Ever since day 1, we've always been together. You're always there by my side, through and through. And I was always by your side. Isn't that enough?”

Kenma sat beside him in silence. He looked at Kuroo, realizing that he was right. They were present all throughout the journey. Their journey.

“Every volleyball tournament, you were cheering me on. Every game you bought, I was beside you buying the damn thing. Every single fucking day, we were both together. And because of that, I can't live without you. But now that I know you don't feel the same, I guess I just have to accept it.”

It was just a millisecond and a small touch of their lips yet Kuroo felt everything in his life gained more color.

Kenma pulled away, his lips still lingering on Kuroo's lips, “I like you too.”

Kuroo and Kenma continued to talk, especially about their relationship. Throughout the night, the stars shined the brightest. As they gazed upon them, it reminded them of Hashiko. And thanked the Heavens for she was there during their day one of being a couple and she will certainly be there for their last.

#haikyu #haikyu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#anime #hq #hq!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #hq!! imagines #haikyuu ships #kuroo tetsurō #kenma kozume #kuroken #oneshot #hq imagines #imagine

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oranjis-shipping-mess · 4 years

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Woozi x Hoshi - Where Hoshi ia a prince who just wants to be young and free and Woozi is his newly hired bodyguard.

Requested by: @wonwoos-tracksuit

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

"Sir, Kwon Soonyoung, I don't want to interfere with your life. But is this really a good idea? I mean, your father.." Jihoon speaks careful, as he parks the car close to town. "Jihoon, just call me Soonyoung or Hoshi. I know my father hired you only a couple of weeks ago, but we're practically the same age. And yes, I really want to do this." Soonyoung speaks with confidence, getting out of the car. "Oh, no. Sir-" Jihoon quickly gets out as well, "I should've opened the door for you." Soonyoung shakes his head, straightning his leather jacket. "Jihoon, it's either Soonyoung or Hoshi for you, yea? Now if you will please let me. Oh, you can take the night off if you want, this might take a while." Soonyoung smirks, thinking about all the fun he can make in this town. Finally a bodyguard that didn't resist on driving for hours to get him somewhere, where the paparazi wouldn't follow him. "No, I- I would rather stay with you si-, Soonyoung."

"Alright." Soonyoung speaks happily when they arrive at a club, "you really didn't tell my father about this, did you?" He looks stern at Jihoon, who dramatically shakes his head. "Okay, good. Now come on, we're gonna have some fun, he continues as they enter the club. All eyes are moved towards them, not because of Soonyoung, but because of Jihoon, who is not at all dressed for a club like this. After a few seconds everyone is already back at their own bussiness as Soonyoung makes his way to the bar and orders a few different drinks. "Here, have one too. You need it more than I do." Soonyoung laughs, Jihoon not sure if it was meant to be funny or not, but takes the drink anyways. After a while a random guy approaches Soonyoung, immediatly flirting. Jihoon was ready to jump in, but Soonyoung was quick to hold his hand up to Jihoon, motioning that it was okay. It didn't even take up to two minutes before Soonyoung and the boy were kissing each other, Jihoon not really sure if the "watch him at all times" also applied to hese kind of situations. After a very few minutes, the boys got tired of each other. "Jihoon, you really don't have to stay, you can have some fun of your own, you know." Jihoon shakes his head, taking another drink that Soonyoung hands him. "Aren't you afraid that paparazi will still show up? Or that your father finds out what you're doing right now?" Now Soonyoung shakes his head, "and even if he did find out. What do I care? I just wanna have fun instead of always being bossed around." Soonyoung hicks up, already nearly drunk after the mix of drinks he already had. "And how do you know that the people here don't know who you are? Your face is on tv, a lot. Don't forget the magazines too." Soonyoung shrugs, "look around. It's outside of my town, and this is literally a club where only college students go to. They don't care about royalty." Jihoon nods, trying to understand Soonyoung's way of thinking this through. Even though they are practically the same age, they both have lived such a different life so far.

Hours have passed and both Soonyoung and Jihoon struggle to walk out of tbe club that is just closing right now. "Well, you certainly can't drive right now." Soonyoung laughs. "Your father, he will be.. He will be furious." Soonyoung growls, "stop worrying about my father for once. Did you even have a little bit of fun this night? Because I made out with atleast five people and I didn't even see you move from your chair, not once." Jihoon shrugs, "i'm not that kind of person I guess." Jihoon is drunk, very drunk. Normally he wouldn't even talk about his personal life, especially not to someone like Soonyoung. "You know, I never had my first kiss yet. And i'm not gonna waste it to some random dude in a club." His cheeks turn red, as he just realized that he's into guys. Soonyoung stops in his tracks. "You never even had your first kiss? Man, respect. You're totally missing out. There are some great kissers out there, I can tell you that." Jihoon looks at him, "Yea, I guess i'm just waiting for the perfect moment? Like, under the stars, the beautiful sky." Jihoon dreams away, picturing the perfect moment. Soonyoung stumbles uppon Jihoon. "The sky is beautiful now, the stars are out. Don't you think it's about time?" Jihoon doesn't even know how to answer that question, but before he even has the time, soft, plump lips were pressed against his. Jihoon completely taken back by the sudden movement, feeling all warm inside out of the sudden. After a few seconds, Jihoon finally relaxes, lips moving in sync. Soonyoung's hands on Jihoon's back and the other going through his hair. The kiss was long, warm and passionate. As soon as Soonyoung parts their lips and looks into Jihoon's eyes, he sees a twinkle, one that he had never seen before with any other person he had ever kissed. "Soonyoung, I-" Soonyoung smirks, "we should probably find a place to stay over night, yea?" Jihoon just nods, not sure what just happened inside of him, but he really, really wants to feel it again. And it did once they found a hotelroom. It happened again, and again, getting sloppier as they both were still very drunk, and also getting tired.

Soonyoung has had a lot of different bodyguards, but not one quite as charming as Jihoon. He knows that his father would probably never ever approve of this, but that's just another problem he would have to deal with later.

#oranjis-shipping-mess #Woozi #Hoshi #Soonhoon #Soonyoung #Jihoon

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chemicalmagecraft · 4 years

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The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 27

A/N: Completely totally random fun fact: Five-card Mao is a fun card game where you're not supposed to tell people the rules, except for, I believe, the fact that if you win a round of Five-card Mao you may create a new rule for the game.

xoxoxo

After getting back from Yuuei, the first thing I did was show my mom the paperwork Shuzenji-sensei gave me. We cried tears of joy together and hugged, then she signed it and I decided to go talk to Kacchan. I figured it'd be a good idea to fill him in on my new powers.

"You can what?" Kacchan asked.

"I can copy Quirks now," I answered. He stared at me for a while. "Are you okay?"

He sighed very loudly. "You know what, why not? You can copy Quirks now. Cool." He stuck out his hand. "How do you do it?"

I grinned and made sparks from my hand. "It's a little finicky, though a bit less thanks to an exploit I found out about, but if I fulfill the right conditions I get a copy of a person's Quirk that I can 'buy' from a new menu."

"And those are?"

"I think it's supposed to be just from either beating someone in a fight or potentially from quest rewards, but one of the rewards for the sports festival quest I got was a choice of two Quirks from a pool limited to people from Yuuei. One of the Quirks I picked was a copying Quirk, which thankfully gives me a copy too."

Kacchan nodded. "Yeah I remember that guy. Kind of an asshole. So what was the other one?"

I felt a sting in my eyes as I activated it. My hair felt weird, and while I couldn't see them I assumed my eyes were glowing red. "Try to use your Quirk."

He snorted. "I know what Aizawa-sensei's Quirk looks like, asshole." I laughed and turned it back off. "So you just... have a bunch of Quirks now?"

I shrugged. "There's a limitation. If I have too many Quirks out then it lowers their effectiveness. But yeah, I have a bunch of Quirks now. I got the Quirks of the past One For All users, there are the two I just said, Super Regeneration from that Nomu thing that I bought because it's a passive boost to healing, the Quirks of everyone I beat in the tournament as another quest reward, and my cat's Quirk, which I tested Copy on."

"Damn. And knowing you, you got some other stupid good thing during the sports festival."

I nodded and pulled out my phone, using Technomancy to turn it on and open my pictures without actually pressing any buttons.

"Showoff," Kacchan muttered, then looked at the picture I took earlier. "Is that a fucking tower?"

"Yup. I got a new spell called Imaginary Architect after that last attack in our fight."

"When you threw fucking swords at me?" Kacchan asked.

"Because I threw fucking swords at you. It's an improved version."

"How the fuck is an entire tower an improved version over being able to make some swords?"

"Now I can make anything out of magic, if I have enough power."

He thought for a moment. "Yeah I guess that makes sense."

I switched to the second photo where the tower was dissolving, the only indication that I was interacting with my phone the blue, circuit-like lines that glowed to life on it and my hand when I did. "And this is what happened when I stopped using Imaginary Architect. Pretty, right?"

Kacchan nodded. "Yeah, it kinda is. Don't suppose you've got enough of an understanding of it to teach it to me yet?"

I shrugged and made a small sphere. I tossed it into the air a bit, then dissolved it mid-throw and replaced it with a small cube. I tossed that cube around a bit, added spikes to it, then dissolved it. Next I made a lab coat with a lot more concentration due to how complicated it actually was, actually making it around my body. I managed to make it a lighter shade of blue than the other IA constructs, but in the end it was only almost white. It did, however, behave exactly like a lab coat made of cloth should, down to how it ripped when I pulled one of the sleeves off. Even breaking a part of the construct didn't destabilize it, which was a failing in most Quirks and spells that made temporary objects. Even my Skill Grimoir worked like that. It was that self-contained... "Yeah, I think I should have a good enough grasp on it now. It's a bit complicated, though."

"This isn't gonna be like Meditation where it just doesn't work, is it?"

I shook my head. "No, from what Todoroki told me Meditation has an aspect to it that my Quirk reproduces automatically."

"How the hell'd he know that?"

"Apparently he can sense magic."

Kacchan twitched. "How the shit does he do that?"

"Beats me. Still, the biggest hurdle to you learning Imaginary Architect should just be that it's really complex. You might want to start out with Bound Blade first."

He sighed. "Ugh, fine."

xoxoxo

I spent the rest of the day (and night) switching between grinding both Imaginary Architect and Item Enchantment and reading up on basic architecture. Around midnight, I decided to check out the hero news. I opened up the website I normally used for hero news (not even using my hands, Technomancy was fun) and scrolled through the articles. One caught my eye.

Pro Hero Ingenium Critically Injured by Hero Killer Stain

"That was what you overheard, wasn't it Sonia?" I asked. She nodded quietly. "Well, thanks for giving me a heads up. Come to think of it, I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me anything you hear about that you think I might need to know? Nothing personal about other people, unless you think they're going to get hurt or something, but stuff like explosions or villainous plotting?"

She smiled. "Yeah, I'll do that!"

"Thanks." I clicked on the article. Yeah it did not look good. "I don't need to tell you to keep an eye on Iida, do I?"

"Nope."

"Thanks..."

I was glad that I was using Technomancy to use the computer, because that freed up both of my hands. My left hand started to glow green with Healing Hands and my right hand glowed purple with Draining Hands to give it something to heal. While I was at it I switched Super Regeneration off. I didn't know if I would be able to help with Iida's brother at all, but it was a reminder of why I got Healing Hands in the first place. I wanted to heal people, and Healing Hands still had its limits even in the nineties.

xoxoxo

I stopped practicing my new skills around noon of the next day to check out one final thing that I had gotten recently that I wanted to mess with. Enlightenment had recently leveled up enough to unlock its next ability:

Allows the user to access their own subconscious mindscape through Meditation.

It would probably be more obviously useful if not for the fact that The Gamer already prevented any form of tampering to my mind, but at the very least it changed Enlightenment from (Passive) to (Active and Passive), meaning that I could hopefully level Enlightenment up at least slightly easier by exploring my mindscape.

I created a perfectly generic object with Imaginary Architect, automatically enchanted with that one slowfall enchantment I'd stumbled upon earlier (though not the floating one), and used Singularity on it. I floated over the construct with my legs crossed in the stereotypical meditation pose and pulled it into the air, adjusting my pull on it when it was halfway between me and the ground so that it just hung there, my 'gravity' pulling on it as much as Earth's. I closed my eyes and let my skills guide me deeper within my own mind.

xoxoxo

I felt like I was falling backwards for what somehow felt like both an instant and an eternity at the same time, scenes from my life flickering in and out of my vision. After that interminable time, I found myself in the foyer of what looked like a hero museum. It felt familiar, and from the looks of it combined some elements from some of the hero museums I'd been in before, though maybe with some other aspects as well. I suppose that made sense, it was my mindscape after all...

The central figure of the foyer was a larger-than-life statue of All Might in a triumphant pose raised on a pedestal.

...

Fair enough...

The statue had a spiderweb of large cracks on it, exactly where the real All Might's wound was. "I know this is my mindscape, but is everything in here going to be so on the nose?" I muttered. I shrugged and picked one of the hallways leading out of the foyer at random, one labeled 'Magic,' and walked through it.

"Whoa," I said. The giant room on the other side looked something like the library of a medieval fantasy magic school, instead of the museum theme of the foyer. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves packed with books, there were moving models of various moments scattered around the room, an ornate pedestal with a large book in the middle with a large spiral staircase around it, and balls of light floated around the ceiling to provide light. I walked over to the closest model. It was the tower that I'd made yesterday. As I watched it dissolved like it had when I stopped supplying it with energy, then reappeared after a few moments. I walked away as it looped itself and examined another one. This time it was the flurry of blades that I'd used to finish off Kacchan. Not all of the models were mine, though most of them were, but every example was an example of magic that I was impressed or amazed by. For example, Kacchan and Uraraka's fight, the time I destroyed Todoroki's iceberg, the cavalry battle, the first time I cast Halcyon Wing, those shenanigans with Yang, the Wild, Wild Pussycats' cat spells I'd seen on TV that one time, my fight with Nomu, that one time Kacchan pulled me out of Illusion Barrier to punch me in the face, my first time using the elements with Kacchan, and the first Mana Bolt that started it all were among them. It was nice to see them all memorialized like that, even if it was only in my own head.

After I was done looking at the pretty displays, I checked out a section of one of the bookshelves. It had a label on it, 'Lightning,' with little lightning bolts on it. I pulled a book out at random and opened it to a random page. Most of the text was garbled for some odd reason, but I could make out one passage.

Lightning Bolt

A simple lightning spell. The user gathers electrical energy with lightning mana and shoots it in a burst at the target.

It was almost exactly what my own skill entry for Lightning Bolt said, but without the cost and everything. I frowned and flipped through the pages. I couldn't make out any of the other entries, but to be fair I didn't know too many lightning spells. I really needed to fix that, and with the other elements too. I closed the book and it flew back into its spot with just my intention to return it. I thought about Lightning Aura and Lightning Embodiment, and a dash-like lightning spell I'd made with the hope of creating a flying lightning spell called Arc Step. Those were my other three major lightning spells, so they should probably be somewhere in the lightning bookshelf. Again, my thoughts caused the books to move on their own. Two books pulled themselves out of the bookshelf and floated in front of me.

I plucked one of them out of the air and opened it to a random page. It had Lightning Aura and Lightning Embodiment on it, with one spell in between them. I stared at the passage. It was almost like it was constantly shifting, like some sort of selective but cripplingly bad dyslexia, but I felt like I should know what it was. I almost caught a glimpse of it... I checked one of the other passages that I couldn't read. I didn't have that feeling of recognition, but I still caught a flash of what it might be. Filing that away for later, I turned my attention back to the familiar passage. What could it...

Maybe a lightning version of Kacchan's Fire Ignition? As I thought it, the shifting of the slowed to a stop. The description was still a blur, but I could at least read that I was right.

Lightning Ignition

Maybe it was because I knew what the spell was, but didn't know it? If that was the case... I put the lightning books back and summoned an air book. Yup, Air Aura and Air Embodiment were there with their descriptions, but with a passage for Air Ignition in the middle that I couldn't read the description of. I put them back and looked at some of the other sections of the bookshelves. Aside from the elements, there were several books on healing, enchantment (apparently Elemental Aura and Elemental Ignition, but not Elemental Embodiment, were enchantment-type, plus my buff spells), illusion, offensive, defensive, sensory, movement, mind, summoning, and even more books of magic. There were so many books, most of them almost completely indecipherable. I supposed it represented the sheer scale of what magic could do. Heck, there were even a few bookshelves that I couldn't read the titles of.

After looking through a few books, I decided to check out the book on the pedestal in the middle. For it to be in the middle of a library full of magic, it had to be something impressive, right? I approached the pedestal and... it was just an oversized version of the Skill Grimoir. The pedestal had a counter on it that looked like it was showing me how many Skill Fragments I had at the moment. "Status," I said to check.

The menu didn't open. I frowned. "Menu." Nothing. "Skills." Nothing. "Skill Grimoir?" The giant Skill Grimoir was summoned to my hands, not the one that I could make from my Quirk. I guess it made sense, Quirks being a part of the body, that even if part of my Quirk affected my mind I couldn't use some parts of my Quirk within my own mindscape. Heck, now that I thought about it the only part of my UI that was still was the minimap. "Does that mean my magic won't work?" I asked myself. I created a simple little Magelight and added it to the floating lights. I cast the spell, yes, but even though it felt almost exactly like it did when I did it in real life, it didn't feel like I used any energy in it. "Weird."

I shrugged and looked at my Skill Grimoir. I wondered what it would look like to use it in here. I clearly could, otherwise why would the pedestal have an SF count on it to make up for the fact that I couldn't check my status screen? I flipped through the book for a skill that I wouldn't mind using SF on. There was a decently cheap skill called Shock Sphere that I was fine with. I confirmed the purchase. The words peeled off the page as usual, but when they dissolved into light they didn't go directly to me. Instead, the light split and streaked over to books in the lightning and offensive bookshelves. There were no text boxes, but I knew how to use Shock Sphere when the last of the light entered the books. I summoned both books to see that yes, there was a completed passage for Shock Sphere in them.

"That's... something..." I muttered. I guess that the books were a representation of my skill list? I moved onto the last feature of the room, the staircase. It was made out of floating strips of the same stone-like material as the flooring, but with small bits of red carpet on them. I walked up the staircase to see what was up there. The staircase was long and the tower that it went up was hollow, meaning that I could fly around there with a lot of room if I felt like it. The room at the top of the staircase looked like... maybe it was supposed to be the top of a wizard tower? The large room was circular, with eight large windows that lined up with the cardinal and ordinal directions on my minimap. There was an empty bookshelf, some tables, and a few training dummies and targets by the walls in between the windows. Creepily enough, the space outside the windows was just a blank white void...

I jumped out the window to see what the outside looked like, but realized when I tried to use Float that my copied Quirks weren't working either. I fell for a few meters in surprise before casting Halcyon Wing. The base of the tower was just a part of the circular staircase, instead of the library at the bottom. I tried to fly under the tower to see what would happen, but bonked into a perfectly white floor. There weren't even any shadows, which made sense when you considered the fact that there was also no light. I looked around the white void.

"I wonder what this is supposed to be?" I muttered. "Maybe it's supposed to be something like visualization of magic? I can use my magic in here, plus there were those dummies, so maybe I can use this place like a training ground for my magic. It'd be a bit nicer if it wasn't just this blank white void..." I had an idea. "If this is all in my head..." I closed my eyes and imagined the forest I used to play in as a kid. Soon the image in my head felt almost real and I realized that my eyes had opened at some point. I flew back up and surveyed the new forest. It probably wasn't exactly accurate, even aside from the giant wizard tower that stayed in there when I replaced the void, but it was still a forest in my head.

I flew around the forest for a bit, seeing how it looked. It kind of looked like it was randomly generated with my memories of the forest, because it didn't look like it was exactly the same as the real thing. Certain areas seemed to repeat too. I also checked what would happen if I destroyed a tree or something. It just smashed like a normal tree. Not sure what I expected to happen there. After that, I wondered if I could create NPCs in there. I imagined a ring of bokoblins, like from Breath of the Wild, around me. Before they could attack me I tested out my new skill on them. Shock Sphere, fittingly enough, reminded me a bit of the electric lizalfos from Breath of the Wild. At least, that electrical explosion that they could do. A sphere of lighting magic centered on me enveloped the bokoblins, causing them to convulse. When I ended the spell (which seemed like I could continue it just by supplying more MP), they all fell down and faded out of existence. I hoped it wasn't that deadly in reality...

With the training grounds tested out, I flew back into the tower and jumped down the stairwell. I didn't even feel any impact when I fell on the floor, and the floor didn't look damaged either. I got up and finally walked through the exit hallway of the magic room. I suddenly found myself back at the foyer of the 'museum,' standing exactly where I had been when I first entered my mindscape like I'd teleported there.

"That was interesting. Let's see another room." I walked up to a hallway, which had a sign that said 'Memory Lane.' This time, the room was just a long hallway with paintings hung all along both sides. On the left side I saw memories that were, generally speaking, negative. Fear, anger, sadness, every picture evoked emotions like that in me. Meanwhile every memory on the right was positive. When I looked at the left side it felt like it was longer than the right side, but when I looked at the right side it felt like it was longer than the left. Only when I didn't focus on either side and just stared down the middle did I see that the two sides were equal.

Does that count as a metaphor? I feel like that's a metaphor.

I kept my hand on the wall of happy memories as I walked down the hallway. My hope was that it'd serve as a reminder not to linger on the bad memories. As I walked down the hallway reminiscing, I noticed that some of the memories on the happy side were also on the negative side, just in a different light. I got to the end of the hallway having only cried a few times. Like the last room, exiting it brought me back to the beginning.

I looked at the hallways around the foyer, wondering what else could be in them. "One more," I promised myself, and went through a hallway labeled 'Heroes.' The large room was filled with statues and pictures of various pro heroes. The ones I admired more had more prominent statues, with All Might's being the centerpiece of the room. I noticed with pride that while there was a statue for Endeavor, it was destroyed. Only the legs were intact, with the rest of him just being a pile of rubble with demeaning graffiti on it.

However, I quickly noticed that there was something completely out of place near the All Might statue. A party of seven, who by the way I had never seen any of before, sat at a cheap folding table in cheap folding chairs. And because this was in my mindscape I apparently couldn't see their titles. There was a man with long white hair, a woman with a short, spiky ponytail that kinda reminded me of a pineapple, a blonde man with red eyes, a white-haired man with a large scar over his left eye, a bald man wearing an opened leather jacket with no shirt under it and a pair of goggles on his forehead, a black-haired man in a coat with a collar so high it covered his mouth, and a motherly-looking woman with a beauty mark under her mouth. It looked like they were about to play some sort of card game.

The man with long white hair, who looked like he was the dealer, shouted "Five-card Mao is not in session!" and threw a card at the man in the coat, who was the only one holding his cards. The man picked the card up and added it to his hand, which was currently about twice the size of the others'. The long-haired man said "Five-card Mao is not in session!" again, and threw another card at the other man. They repeated this several more times, the white-haired man's shouting getting more exasperated each time. Soon the man in the coat was holding all the cards.

"I win," he said smugly.

"That's not how Five-card Mao works!" the white-haired man protested.

"How does it work, then?" The man looked through his numerous cards.

The white-haired man slammed his hands on the table, rattling his five cards. "I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU!"

"Then how are we to play the game?" the man asked smugly as he set most of the deck down.

The white-haired man sighed. "You figure it out. That's supposed to be part of the fun..."

"Um..." I said, and all seven of them turned to stare at me in unison. "What are you people doing in my head?" I asked.

"The kid's here," the bald man said. "How is the kid here?"

The motherly-looking woman got up. "I suppose some introductions are in order. Sorry for alarming you, Midoriya. We're... the past users of One For All, the Quirk you have now. My name is Shimura Nana."

"Oh," I said. "So I guess One For All takes some kind of copy of the user's mind?"

The bald man shrugged. "Probably something like that. Name's Daigoro Banjo. Sup."

The man in the jacket nodded. "Hikiishi Jiroku."

"Hello, Midoriya," the scarred man said. "My name is Honenuki Shikotsu."

The blonde man waved at me. "Hello," he said with a small Russian accent. "I am Sokolov Kyousan."

The woman with the ponytail smiled at me. "Hello, Midoriya. My name is Kaizen Futaba. It's nice to meet you."

Finally, the white-haired man got up and shook my hand with an apologetic grin. "And I'm the reason you're in this whole mess, sorry. Shigaraki Ichigo." I gasped. Come to think of it, he looked a bit like that hand guy, Shigaraki Tomura, if he wasn't so... crusty. He winced. "Yeah, like that hand kid you fought. I think he might be my nephew, but I kinda don't like the idea of my brother procreating. He wasn't a very good brother and I doubt he'd make a great father either. You can call me Ichigo, by the way. I understand if you wouldn't want to call me Shigaraki."

"Um... So if you're all here then where's All Might?" I asked.

"Oh, he's in the closet," Shimura said.

"I knew it!" I said.

"Oh no, I meant that closet," she said, pointing to a literal broom closet in one corner of the room. Why was that even there? "Toshinori's openly bi, or at least he was in school."

"Oh, so did you know him when he was in school?" I asked. "Or I guess you would know anyway if you were in his head too..."

She nodded. "I did end up in his head eventually, but I was his teacher at Yuuei."

"Wait, why is he in the broom closet? I asked.

"See, the thing about that is..." Daigoro said. "Maybe it's best if you see for yourself."

I shrugged and walked over to the closet door. I could see something under the crack, but it didn't look like a pair of human feet... I opened the door, revealing a hazy yellow silhouette that was roughly All Might-shaped, but didn't look like an actual person. He didn't react to me opening the door. "Oh," I said.

"Yeah, he kinda creeped us out after a while, so we just stuck him in the closet," Ichigo said.

I waved my hand in front of his face. He didn't react at all... "Is he... conscious?"

"We don't think so, or at least we hope not," Honenuki said.

"We don't remember our times as that strange half-shadow, but at the same time most of ours were short," Hikiishi informed me. "At the very least, he doesn't react to anything and won't until the real Toshinori dies."

"I see," I said. That was kind of disturbing... "So are your real souls in here? Is that how it works?"

Sokolov shrugged. "It's best if you don't think think about it, existentially."

"Okay," I said, closing the door. "Would it be possible to get another chair for me?" I asked. "Actually how did you get those chairs?" I turned around to see that there was an extra chair right next to Ichigo. "Right, mindscape." Ichigo patted the empty chair.

I sat down as Ichigo shuffled his cards really fancily. I didn't even know you could do some of those those things to shuffle a deck of cards.

Or it was just mindscape logic...

"So do you wanna play too, Midoriya?" Ichigo asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah, thanks." When he dealt my cards I almost picked them up, but remembered the whole thing with Hikiishi and stopped myself.

"Five-card Mao is now in session!" Ichigo said as he flipped the top card of the deck over, the two of hearts. "I figured we'd do this in the order of what bearer we were, and we could say a bit about ourselves to Midoriya. I'll start." He placed the eight of hearts down on top of the first card. "I was the first bearer. Our enemy, All For One, is.. was my brother. He kinda snapped when our father killed our mother, which to be fair was pretty dang traumatic, but that doesn't really make anything he did cool. We had a few arguments, he locked me in a room for months, then he tried to control me by giving me a powerful Quirk. Still don't get what his plan was there, even with the chance of brain damage. Plus I mean even then we already knew that Quirks could be genetic, so he should've figured I could've been even a little bit more compatible with his Quirk than some random schmuck, so-"

"You're rambling again, Ichigo," Kaizen interrupted him.

"Right. Thanks, Futaba-chan," he said. I guess they knew each other. "So yeah, I used the Quirk he gave me to escape him and join what may have been a precursor to those pro hero organization things, though obviously without the overt government support. Speaking of, I think that's when you come in, Futaba-chan."

Kaizen nodded. She put down the eight of diamonds before speaking. "I was Ichigo's sidekick. He took me under his wing after he couldn't dissuade me from being a hero and showed me ways to use my Quirk that I would have never thought of. When he was on his deathbed I promised to continue the fight against his brother and was the first to have One For All passed to me. If I may, Midoriya, I would like to advise you to not underestimate the power of my Quirk, Mending."

Sokolov nodded. "My turn." He put down the three of spades.

Ichigo picked up the card, took a card off the top of the deck, and tossed them both to Sokolov. "Bad move. Try again."

Sokolov grunted. "What about this, then?" He put down the seven of diamonds. "My mom lost her Quirk to that bastard Hisa-"

Hikiishi threw a card at him. "Watch your language, there's a kid present."

Before Sokolov could pick up the card Ichigo swiped it up and threw it and another card at Hikiishi. "That's not a rule," he said.

Hikiishi picked the cards up, took another one from the deck, and threw all three at Ichigo. "You said can make new rules if you win."

Ichigo glared at him. "I'll give you that one, but only because I agree with the rule." He turned to Sokolov. "Continue."

Sokolov nodded. "My mom lost her Quirk, so I decided to melt the brain of the person responsible. I suppose if we're saying what our Quirks are, I should say mine's Fear. Luckily Kaizen got to me before I could get to him, and she made me her successor."

Honenuki threw his card down next. Seven of spades. "Believe it or not, but I used to be one of All For One's allies. Was born into it, actually. In fact, the Quirk you got from me, Skeletal, was a combination of my birth Quirk, Spike Growth, and a Quirk called Bone Armor. One day, though, I made the... well, not mistake, but I questioned him." He tapped his scar. "How I got this. Kyousan saved my as- life and I didn't really have anywhere else to go, so he basically adopted me."

Banjo slammed down the jack of spades. He shrugged. "Honestly I became a hero because I was bored and liked using Blackwhip. Don't know what Honenuki saw in me, but to be fair he was dying and the other guy was an even bigger jerk. Not really much to say."

Hikiishi looked at his cards for a bit. "I was always good at using my Quirk, Magnetize. I was heavily encouraged to become a hero, so I went with it." He put down the jack of diamonds. "I suppose Banjo saw promise in me when we worked together, because he gave me One For All."

Shimura played the queen of diamonds. "I also became a pro hero because of my Quirk, Float. Well, I really did want to help people too, but having a Quirk that let me fly played a factor in my becoming a hero too. I only ever met Hikiishi a few times before I... well, when he gave me One For all he was about to die. I became a teacher after that, hoping that maybe my successor would be spared the traumatic circumstances of my getting One For All." She laughed wryly. "I'm honestly not too sure I was able to do that for Toshinori..."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Hikiishi muttered.

"I don't blame you," Shimura assured him. "Now it's your turn Midoriya."

"Okay," I said. I looked at my cards. If I understood the rules right, the only card I had that would work was the queen of hearts, so I placed it on Shimura's card. "My name is Midoriya Izuku, as you know. I think the Quirk I was born with was actually Singularity, but it's really weird and didn't even show any sign of being there until a few months ago, when I got The Gamer. I know I'm not very experienced, but I hope to make you all proud."

Banjo grinned at me. "You're doin' great already, kid!" he shouted.

"Yes, I'm proud to call you my successor," Ichigo added with a grin.

The rest of the former bearers echoed the sentiment. I laughed and rubbed at my suddenly wet eyes. "Thank you."

xoxoxo

A/N: Sorry about dumping a bunch of names on you at once, bit that was kinda the only way I though of for how this could go down...

Also sorry for the kinda long wait. I had writers' block for a bit with the OFA scene and then had an awesome idea for the card game that unfortunately involved reading a lot about the minor tarot arcana (I know it was a minor detail, but I thought it was really cool and I just kinda go wild for tarot motifs okay). By the way if anyone's looking things up, remember that most playing cards are the same rightside-up as upside-down so it could be either upright or reversed ;3. Plus I had a lot more irons in the fire that I had to tend to.

Elemental list: Midoriya: Halitus, Dune, Rayne, Blaise, Juniper, Mifuyu, Raimon, Iggy, Sonia, and Claude Bakugou: Pyra and Leaf Tokoyami: Corvo Uraraka: Nebula and Ion Hagakure: Lucy Tsu: Bubbles Aizawa: Charlie and Cassiopeia All Might: Seth O'Scope

#fanfiction #bnha #bnha fanfiction #the gamer #The Gamer Hero Deku #Gamer Hero Deku #GHD CH27

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x-ia-n · 4 years

Text

━ as the world caves in.

➞ including: tooru oikawa, gn!reader

overview: people from different universes can hear what song their soulmate if listening to.

word count: 1.1k

➼ haikyuu masterlist

↳ main masterlist

↦ angst, mentions of physical pain, suicide

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

✧i got permission from the creator, @peateaa on tiktok, to write something based on this.✧

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

‘it’s all too much.’ you think to yourself, writing the final lines of the letter you wish to leave behind.

‘it hurts so much.’

you placed your pen on top of the letter, leaving it on the desk. you spun slowly, taking in image of your bedroom, the only safe space you’ve had in a long time. a small photo taped on the wall caught your eye. it was a picture of an anime character, tooru oikawa. you found yourself walking towards it, and gently placing a hand on it. you sighed to yourself, “if only you were real.”

maybe if he were real, he’d talk you out of this. if he were real, you’d have an ounce of happiness you so longed for. but he isn’t.

the harsh truth slapped you, and you realize you’ve been staring at the picture for quite a bit.

dressed in your favorite clothes, you left your room, earphones plugged in with music blasting at full volume. you walked across your rooftop, the wind messing up your hair. you watch the clouds go by, sitting at the edge of the roof.

――

at the other end of the universe, a whistle blew, signalling a point for a team. tooru pants, flashing a smile at hajime. aoba johsai managed to force karasuno into a deuce for their third set. “iwa-chan.” he calls out, hearing the familiar song at the back of his head.

“they’re listening to it again.” he exclaimed. hajime looks at him briefly, “again? it must be their favorite song, then.”

“listen, trashykawa. i know they’re your soulmate but you gotta focus.” he reprimanded, now looking at the other end of the court, where karasuno are staring at them with such tenacity. they all are after the same thing, to be the team that wins.

“i’ll find you. i promise.” tooru whispers to himself, just as the umpire blows the whistle. tooru sends another serve, even more determined to win this match. in his head, the sooner they win, the sooner he could look for his soulmate.

there’s no distance he won’t go through to look for the one the universe gave him.

――

you looked down at the pavement below. taking a deep breath, you stand up and turn around from the edge. there were no more tears to shed at this point. staring back up at the sky, you felt tears drip down your face as you began to apologize.

you started to apologize to those you felt still cared. to those you have hurt, those who have hurt you. you began apologizing to yourself, knowing you deserve better than what you received, that you deserve better than how other people have treated you, how you treated yourself.

finally, you whispered your apologies to your soulmate. you apologized for never getting to meet them, for not being strong enough to push through. and you pray to whatever greater being there is, for your soulmate to be happy, and for them to understand that this… this is the only thing to stop the pain.

the wind will carry your apologies for you.

the tears you shed were not because you were sad, on the contrary, it’s more so because you felt like you were in charge of your life for once.

you stepped back, letting yourself fall with no regrets, because you’ll be at peace.

――

just as akira managed to send the ball to the other side of the court, tooru felt a sharp pain in his chest. “iwa-” he choked out, his hands clutching his chest before falling to his knees. their coach noticed the captain in pain and called for a time-out almost immediately. hajime knelt down in front of his best friend, asking him what’s wrong.

“iwa, my heart and head hurts. why is my heart hurting so much?” tooru grunted in pain, tears leaking out of his eyes. both teams gathered around the pair, but the setter didn’t mind. he just wanted the pain to stop. hajime looked to their team for help, but none of them knew what was going on. tooru never had any health conditions aside from his injured knee.

he grabbed the ace’s arm and squeezed, barely breathing due to the immense pain he’s feeling. “my body feels weird, and everything hurts!” he sobbed, not caring about how loud he was.

the aoba johsai coaches got through the crowd and hooked their arms under tooru’s. “you’re gonna have to stand up, oikawa.” the head coach says, before they hoisted him up. at least, tried to.

the brunet’s knees gave out and he fell forwards, his fellow third years catching him.

“what’s happening? please, make it stop!” he wails, the pain increasing by the second. his head was pounding, he could barely make out anything that’s happening around him. their coach tries to get him to describe the pain as the head coach calls an ambulance.

“it hurts! please!” he begs to no one in particular. the last thing tooru remembers is hajime’s worried face hovering over him.

―

all around him was brightness.

the pain in his chest has dulled, and the headache is practically non-existent. searing white lights stung his eyes as they opened. he noticed he was at the hospital, judging from the white gown he wore. tooru bolted up, waking the sleeping hajime and issei. “oh, oikawa. you’re awake. i’ll go get the nurse.” the latter says in a hurry.

“iwa-chan, what happened? what about the game-”

“we lost.” hajime interrupted. “but that’s not important.”

tooru looked appalled. “not important? iwa-chan, the game is important. what happened when i was out?”

his friend stood up, and started to pace around the room. “i… i don’t know how to tell you.”

tooru wanted to burst, but seeing the expression on hajime’s face made him falter. “what is it? was it tobio-chan? or the shrimp? i’d be surprised if it was mr. refreshing-”

“it’s not about the game, oikawa.”

he stopped talking. hajime would only use the name ‘oikawa’ in serious matters. “...hajime?”

“the pain you felt… shit, i don’t know how to tell you.”

the captain felt tears brimming in his eyes as he whimpered out, “please.”

hajime sighed, and sat on the chair beside the bed. he took a deep breath and said in a soft voice, “there isn’t an easy way to tell you this. i wish there was.”

there was a long pause before he spoke again. “the pain you felt… it is because your soulmate died.”

tooru didn’t have the energy to protest, he didn’t even have the energy to speak. he just let his tears fall, and he let hajime rub his back in comforting circles. the deafening silence of the room was occasionally broken by the sound of his pained sobs and whimpers.

and just like that, the two most important things to tooru oikawa are gone.

#haikyuu angst #oikawa angst #oikawa x y/n #oikawa torū #oikawa x reader #haikyuu #oikawa imagine #haikyuu imagine #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa x reader #toru oikawa #oikawa scenarios #haikyuu!!#tw// suicide

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dramallamadingdang · 6 years

Text

It’s the time of the sea-ea-son for....replies.

OK, so that doesn’t fit the song lyrics at all, does it? Or is the song so old that you have no idea what I mean? Or... Ah, whatever...

These be for @bouncersimmer, @penig, @lilleputtu, @mortia, @tamtam-go92, @dunne-ias, @mysterious-inspired, and @glabeglarn...

bouncersimmer replied to your post “I don't play a historical game but in my Bacc Teens don't go to...”

Thanks for sharing this! Helped give me some ideas on a new town I'm making!

I’m glad! The transport mirror is a handy thing to have! It opens up all sorts of interesting possibilities if you use it creatively.

penig replied to your photoset “Rain, rain, rain… My rule is that if it’s raining, nothing outdoors...”

Hey, if it's raining when your crops need tending, you go out and you get wet. And fishing is better in the rain.

Well, yeah, in the real world, but I’m trying to make things harder here! *laugh* ‘Cuz really? These folks have a super-easy life. Which is OK because it’s a total fantasy and all and I’m not trying to be “realistic,” but I don’t want to get bored and stuff.

lilleputtu replied to your photo “Over to Gabrielle Thompson’s place. She grows hay which, really, is...”

okay, the floating background sheep just gave me a good giggle :D

Aren’t they awesome? I want to photoshop little capes onto them or something... “Look! Up in the sky! It’s SuperRam!”

lilleputtu replied to your photo “But eventually things cleared up enough for Zara (and the cat) to take...”

Fresh Meat is making this sound like a Cannibal settlement D:

Well, you know, if the crops ever fail.... ;) The newest one would be the first on the BBQ, right? :)

mortia replied to your photoset “The Stowes at work…and at not-work.”

Oooh that lake/river is gorgeous!

Thanks! That was just a quickie lot I threw together because I wanted to see how that windmill worked. (It generates flour sacks that can be used to bake desserts.) I decided to put water on it so that visitors could fish, too. It did turn out to be a pretty place to take pics. :)

tamtam-go92 replied to your post “Hey, I am having a strange issue with wants in my game. When my...”

No all toddlers roll wants to learn their basic skills! I had a toddler in my bacc whose parents split up shortly after her growing up, and she would only roll wants to interact with her parents and to gain specific skills points but she wouldn't roll a want to learn to talk until her final day time nap before growing up...

No, it’s true. I’ve had toddlers who never rolled a want for any of the skills and in those cases...Well, they DO get potty-trained because that’s part of my toddler-care schedule, but they didn’t get taught to walk or talk. And that doesn’t bother me because it’s not like there’s a penalty if they don’t learn those things. But MOST toddlers roll up a want for at least one of the skills. Most of mine seem to roll wants for all three plus the nursery rhyme, but not always.

I think it might be personality-linked. Like, my really outgoing ones will seem to roll up wanting to learn to talk first, while the really active ones will want to learn to walk first and the really neat ones will roll up potty-training first. But maybe that’s just coincidence, I dunno. It is a trend I’ve noticed over the years. But maybe if a toddler is shy, lazy, AND slobby, they’ll never roll wants to learn any of the skills...

dunne-ias replied to your post “Hey, I am having a strange issue with wants in my game. When my...”

the question really is, what kind of wants are they getting instead? for example, Hobby wants are kind of borked and just keep rerolling leaving not much room for other wants (unless you edit it or avoid hobbies)

Yeah, wants can be weird. But there does seem to be something going on with their game, since I just got a follow-up ask. :) But there’s also the issue that wants can be “trained,” in that if you constantly fill one, they’ll be more likely to roll that one. The problem, of course, is that if you play by wants, you naturally fill the wants they roll, if you can...which then “trains” them to roll those particular wants more often. So, you get in these ruts. I actually don’t mind the hobby wants because they’re generally easy to fill and once filled they’ll usually roll something non-hobby-related at least until the next day, since in my game, at least, the hobby wants seem to appear mostly on the Sim’s initial want-roll when they wake up.

mysterious-inspired replied to your photoset “The cat got into a war…with a wolf. Things didn’t go so well…for the...”

Is that cat Kim? I have one in my neighborhood that's a menace ��

Yep, it’s Kim. She’s quite the spitfire. When she’s not battling wolves, she’s killing things and demanding tribute from her human slaves. Because, you know, she’s a cat. :)

penig replied to your photoset “Meanwhile, the Basset house was being invaded by…practically everyone....”

Those are some huge plums.

I know! I wish real plums were that big! They’re one of my favorite fruits...

penig replied to your photoset “The cat got into a war…with a wolf. Things didn’t go so well…for the...”

She's a smart cat and went for the nose.

She must’ve. She’s a fluffy badass.

glabeglarn replied to your post “Oh, for the love of God, Norbert! This was the fourth time in a row!...”

He loves the sensation of the green tingling itch!

He must! Either that or he’s a masochist or it’s guilt-ridden self-flagellation or something. Because if you “accidentally” get poison ivy four days in a row, then I call that not an accident. Unless you’re, like, really really stupid. But Norbert actually seems to be not-stupid. I mean, at least he doesn’t blatantly cheat on his wife in front of his wife like most of the males in this neighborhood. *eyeroll* Plus, Knowledge Sim, right? He might crave an initial experience of something -- like they roll wants to get struck by lightning, of all things -- but four times? That seems a bit excessive. So I guess the boy’s just not quite right in the head.

lilleputtu replied to your photoset “And then Hawksley Sprog #4 was born. It is, alas, another boy....”

I am not looking forward to toddler mayhem in edona's glade. You're just dealing with SO MANY. how do you do it? Is it strong alcohol? because it sounds like strong alcohol may be needed. I already struggle with one toddler sometimes D:

*laugh* Alcohol might help, but since I’m not allowed it (because I have a damaged liver), it can’t help me! :) But there’s always weed, since I live in Pot-arado. :)

Pretty much, when there’s more than one toddler, I resign myself to the fact that most of what the adults are going to do is childcare and let everything else fall by the wayside for the time that their kids are toddlers. It DOES help that the cellar fridge is now bottle-enabled, so I can feed toddlers bottles from it, which is quicker (and, oddly, fills them up longer, which I totally don’t understand but I go with it) than feeding them solid food. But basically, I resign myself to the fact that childcare is going to take up all the adults’ time, pretty much, and I get the toddlers operating on a schedule, with feeding times slightly staggered so that they don’t all need to be fed at the same time. I also use a “toddlers sleep through the night” mod which helps to maintain a schedule. They all get up at the same time, and they all take a nap in the afternoon (to give the parents time to tend to their own needs, basically), and ideally they all go to sleep at night at the same time, although that doesn’t always happen. *laugh* Other than that, I make it so that one needs to be fed upon waking, one needs to be fed right before they go down for their nap, and the other gets fed before bed at night. And now that I have bottles, I can fill in if needed here and there. On rare occasions -- like if there’s twins -- I’ll have four, sometimes even five toddlers at once, and then it gets pretty chaotic, but I still try to stick to a schedule as much as possible. It’s really the only way to do it without going insane.

Well, OK, maybe not the ONLY way. Some people feed their toddlers pet food and/or have a never-ending bottle and they let them put themselves to bed as they will on pet beds and such, so that the parents pretty much never have to interact with them to take care of their basic needs, but I don’t like to play that way. It feels neglectful. I know they’re just pixels, but it still makes me feel icky. :)

penig replied to your post “Every time I think I’m going to get back on track with keeping up with...”

Bonk the guilt on the head. Following someone is not the same as promising to view all the content. Anybody you're particularly interested in, you can go to the individual blog sometime when you're in the mood. You never get to do all the things you want to do and that's life. Don't turn your leisure into work.

Yeah, this I know in my head. Although I suppose it’s not really “guilt” so much as there’s so many people’s work that I want to keep up with or catch up with...but at the same time, I want to do a lot of other things, including actually play my game. So when I plop myself in front of the computer for a stretch of time, I end up doing other things on it besides catching up with things I want to catch up with. And I can’t even say that more hours would help because I’d likely just spend those hours not doing the catching-up I want to do, too. *laugh* I’m just bad that way.

#bouncersimmer #penig #lilleputtu #mortia #tamtam-go92 #dunne-ias #mysterious-inspired #glabeglarn #taylors-simblr #replies

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