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snowdropluck204 · 6 months

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If You'll Let Me - Sebastian Sallow x Reader

So this is the first Hogwarts Legacy fic I've done, I hope it's okay... This is what I imagine could have happened after the official ending and the you choose NOT to turn Seb in! Enjoy! Xxx ______________________________

3rd Person pov

The battle was over, and the hero of Hogwarts was suspiciously missing, nobody had seen her, which wasn't uncommon all things considered. But the war was over, what more could she need to do? Granted poaching was still on the rise, Hogsmeade wasn't crime free... Ranrok's loyalists weren't gone, even with Rookwood dead and Harlow in Azkaban, their followers were still causing problems, petty theft at best, kidnap at worst.

(y/n) still had her hands full, but more recently, she'd been disappearing without notice. Ominis was especially confused. He had gotten close to the hero following all of her help with Sebastian, let alone saving the school from being destroyed and defeating Ranrok. They would spend time together, studying for classes and gossiping about the going ons around the school, but recently, she had been galavanting off to some unknown location every Friday evening.

Sebastian still hadn't spoken to (y/n) since he thanked her briefly for not turning him in, he was stubborn, he believed that she could have done more for Anne. All he wanted was for his sister to be the way she was, to join him and Ominis at Hogwarts again... He hadn't really meant to ignore her, but it wasn't entirely unintentional. But now... Now he wanted to speak to her, wanted to apologise properly.

Anne was getting better.

It wasn't something anyone was expecting, the healers and St Mungos couldn't explain what was happening, believing it was simply a miracle, or maybe because Rookwood was dead, as the wizard that cast the curse, perhaps him dying was what reversed it. All Sebastian knew, was that he had been a bad friend, and an even worse person... He didn't want to be that person anymore.

So he decided he would have to find (y/n), there was no way of knowing where she was though, each day he searched he seemed to become more and more blind to the reality of where she was. But he did become much more sighted to the good deeds that she had selfishly performed. Little things. Returning a goblin's mooncalf, finding a child's lost toy, or a fellow student's lost heirloom. (y/n) was constantly placing herself under harm's way, when most people would have turned a blind eye, she didn't, simply because she knew she was capable, sticking up for those who weren't.

Sebastian hadn't understood before, but he did now, he had seen the risk she was putting herself under, the stress it must have caused her, the worry, the loneliness. She hadn't been able to tell many people what she was up to, not without revealing her ancient magic... She had trusted him, and he'd thrown that trust away, without a second glance. Ominis says the feeling he has now is guilt. Of course he felt guilty! What else would he feel for throwing away what he had with such a wonderfully special person!?

Now he was practically kicking himself, questioning every decision he'd made. Granted he knew most of the decisions he'd made recently weren't of the best calibre... But his friendship with (y/n) had been, it was one of the best decisions he had made! But he still couldn't find her.

Sebastian had tracked his way through every nearby poacher den, flooed to the furthest acromantula nest. He had even spent a day in a puffskein den because (y/n) had told him a few months ago how watching them bounce about made her laugh and feel better after a rough day.

Now he was standing in front of the ridiculous tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet. He had heard of the Room of Requirement, had read diary entries of those who had supposedly come across it, and now he was trying to get it to reveal itself to him. It was the last room in the entire bloody castle he hadn't checked, it was the only logical place she could be! So he did what the diary entries had told him to, he paced back and forth in front of the tapestry, thinking. Willing it to appear in front of him.

And it did. A beautifully intricate door was willed into his existence. He looked around, nobody was watching, he opened the door and stepped in.

He knew there was nothing (y/n) couldn't do, but this was a lot. There were tables with magical plants and herbs growing, potions stations brewing a ridiculous amount of Wiggenweld and other duelling potions. (y/n) had always been prepared for any of the fights he needed her for, now he knew why. The room was huge, filled to the brim with interesting decorations and paintings, he could see the magical doorways that led to vivariums filled with beasts that she had saved from poachers.

He was so busy staring around the room in awe, he hadn't noticed a small house elf make his presence known. "Mistress (y/n)!" He cheered, "You're back from Feldcroft rather early, how did it all go?" Deek asked, before quickly shutting his mouth, seeing the freckled brunette instead of the Hero of Hogwarts. "Oh, Deek apologises... nobody ever uses this room except mistress (y/n)." He informed the confused teen.

Sebastian shook his head, "Wait, how long has (y/n) been using this room for?" He asked, curious, but also annoyed that she had hidden this from him.

Deek thought to himself before answering, he was usually under strict rules from Headmaster Black to answer all question put to him, honestly. So he did.

"Mistress (y/n) has been using the room almost since she first started the year at Hogwarts... Professor Weasley believed it would help her catch up on schoolwork..." Deek answered truthfully.

Sebastian's eyes flashed with hurt, he couldn't believe that (y/n) had been hiding this from him, from Ominis and Poppy and Natsai and Amit as well, probably. After everything they had done to help her! That's when another thing Deek had told him popped back into his mind.

"Hang on, did you say that she was at Feldcroft?" Sebastian asked slowly, confused. Why on earth would she be there? That's when he was reminded of his original purpose of entering the Room of Requirement, finding (y/n) so he could apologise for all he had done that year.

He said a quick goodbye to a very perplexed Deek, before making his way to the nearest floo station and travelling to his home village.

He searched everywhere he could think of, the duelling dummies, the farm, the ruins of Isadora Morganach. He was tired of looking, it was already so late, if he tried to get back to Hogwarts now he would be caught breaking curfew, so he decided to visit Anne, and stay the night there.

Anne had eventually made up with him, after he showed up crying at his uncle's funeral. As much as Solomon drove him mad, he was family, the last bit of family the twins had, and he had taken that away, so eventually, he had felt remorse.

Sebastian gave a brief knock on the wooden door before pushing it open, it was still his home after all. He went through, not finding Anne in the main room, so believed she was in her room. He once again knocked on the door, not hearing the gasps of both pain and relief.

Opening the door, he saw Anne laying peacefully in her bed, (y/n) sitting next to her, holding her hand. However, their joint hands were etched with thick veins of darkness.

(y/n) was gritting her teeth, presumably to avoid waking Anne from her very rare bout of peaceful slumber, but it was obvious how much pain she was in, much the opposite of how Sebastian was used to seeing the two. "What the hell is going on!?" He shouted, startling (y/n).

She broke the connection, the dark veins leaving her and Anne's arms. Her normally (e/c) eyes shot open, revealing bright, fluorescent red, which quickly faded. Sebastian's eyes darkened. "What were you doing to my sister!? You said that it was too dangerous to take away emotions, you hypocrite! If you could have helped her all this time, then why didn't you!? You've been lying to us all this time (y/n), why!?" He ranted.

She looked up at him calmly, her anger boiling silently under the surface of her skin. "Do you really think, that if I had wanted to help Anne sooner, I wouldn't have?" (y/n) asked calmly. "What would be my motive, just to get under your skin? I had seen what would happen if I tried to take any pain from your sister, I didn't want her to wind up a lifeless husk. And if I'm such a hypocrite Sallow, why would I even bother trying to save your sister now!?" (y/n)'s voice was rising quickly, a sign of just how angry she was.

"And if I'm such a liar, let's see if you can tell if I'm lying now. I've been spending the last few weeks here, taking your sister's pain and keeping it for myself? I just wanted to see you happy Sebastian! I have been researching endlessly, trying to find a way I could use what I have to help you both! Every waking moment since the battle happened, I have been tirelessly practicing, reading, writing, working. Just for you to shove it back in my face!" She shouted.

Sebastian was shocked, standing there blankly. "I-I'm so-"

"Oh you're sorry!? Really? After ignoring me for weeks, you only want to apologise now that you know I've done exactly what you wanted! I helped you find the scriptorium, I let you use the torture curse on me, I helped you find the crypt, helped with the inferi, saved you from Azkaban! What more can I do to prove to you that I care, that I love you!" She shrieked.

Sebastian was now even more shocked, stuttering and blubbering through his words. He was going to say something, the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he knew that whatever he said wouldn't be enough. Enough of an apology, enough of a reciprocation.

Instead he charged over to her, his heart melting when he saw the fiery glare in her eyes. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips against hers. Once (y/n) had gotten over her own shock, she melted into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist, relaxing into the kiss.

When Sebastian finally pulled away from the comfortable embrace, he sighed softly, "Nothing." He whispered, (y/n) looking at him in confusion until he finished his thought. "There is nothing else you need to do. Nothing I won't be there for now. I've thought you were one of, if not the most incredible person I have ever had such a pleasure to meet. I promised myself, I wouldn't do anything stupid, never push you away- Don't look at me like that, I know what I did!" He chortled.

"But I want to make up for it, if you'll let me?"

_____________________________

I hope this was okay! Let me know if you want me to write any more Hogwarts Legacy stuff, I would be into writing for any character really! Requests are open! Xxx

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #x reader #cute #love #romance #fanfiction #open requests #fem reader #reader insert #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy x reader

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dolly-on-the-dotted-line · 1 year

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Interlude: Solicitation

Solicitation: The act of asking for or trying to obtain something from someone.

Rating: 18+ (for consistency)

Warnings: Dazzling sincerity, Touches of Heartbreak, Reckless Erections.

A/N: So I leave for *checks watch* 8 months and there are now SO many of you 🥺 thank you to everyone who has found, loved, and shared this story, especially while I've been absent getting my new life together. It absolutely astounds me. I've had this little snippet in my back pocket for a while and now feel ready to post it as I start to get back into the swing of things. Think of it as a reparation for being gone for much longer than I intended and a placeholder while I pick up the threads of the story again. This interlude tells the story of the last NYE they spent together which Bug refers to after Stella's wedding and the 'agreement in Michigan' that Javi talks about. It's fun filling in the gaps and giving context to these moments that happen between the chapters. I love them.

Ann Arbor, New Year, Age 24: Solicitation

'The last time you had danced together must have been Christmas time, the final stint of your year ‘together’. It was new years eve, you think. Everyone had left the small get-together you’d thrown and instead of washing up glasses at 3am, you’d stood in the kitchen and swayed listlessly, bone-weary and half sober listening to Eric Carmen. You don’t think you can recall ever being as happy as you were at that moment. It was the end of the best year of your life.'

You fucking loved it here. Michigan was the one place in your life you couldn’t bear to leave.

You knew it was the new year making you dramatic, with another twelve months on the lease, at least, guaranteed. But you also knew it was often the things you wanted to hold on to the most that had the greatest tendency of slipping away. If you pretended you weren't looking, perhaps things would stay exactly where they were. Despite your best efforts, you knew the likelihood of that happening was slim to none.

Instead of ruminating, you pour yourself another drink and go back to the party.

“So what do you do, Javier?” was all you’d heard in your peripheral all evening.

You shouldn’t be surprised, you suppose. He was actually new here. This was the first time he’d been wheeled out for the benefit of your college friends, spruced up for the occasion, featuring all the bells and whistles.

You’d returned the favour of your own trip to Fairfax in second year, finally inviting him to see the most sacred part of your life- your home away from home. But for all the secrets you kept hidden here, Javi wasn’t one of them. Everyone was gagging to meet him, and from the way you’d spoken of him over the last four years, you couldn’t exactly blame them, either. Golden by name, golden by nature. They'd been eating him alive since 6pm.

“I’m DEA. Or, I will be, soon," comes his automatic reply. The humble addition at the end of the statement makes you smile for the tenth time tonight. 'He was going to be a big deal soon, he promised.'

“That’s cool!” replies Sylvia, echoing the similar sounds of pleasant surprise your other friends had all mustered in turn as the evening had gone on. They were right, it was cool. “Is that close to here, or home?”

You see the way he weighs it up in his head, clearly caught off guard by a question he didn’t have a rehearsed answer for. “Uh, neither, actually. Quantico, have you heard of it?”

Bless your friends and their small talk and their well-meaning nosiness. He'd been a broken record all evening, happily filling in the details, but that one had got him. Discussions of things like ‘how far’ and ‘how long' had been generally forbidden between the two of you for a long time. You blame the new year once again for the sudden uptick in temporal awareness.

Midnight comes and goes. People kiss, dance, laugh. Javi holds you close and nobody bats an eyelid. The early morning kicks in before anyone has the chance to realise. He's stolen away by another group of your friends, eager to make up for years worth of your hiding him away.

When he manages to excuse himself from the crowd no less than an hour later, he's immediately on a mission to seek you out. Clearly there was a limit to how many times he could run his spiel on demand. He finds you in the kitchen, collecting the glasses and trying to fit them in the basin.

He's on you in a second, grabbing you by the waist, curling you into his arms, and kissing your cheek sweetly.

"I haven't seen you for hours," he laments sarcastically.

“Well, I guess it’s you that no one knows this time.”

“I can see why you enjoyed it, it’s weirdly liberating. No expectations.”

“The expectations are only so high because you made them that way. You're also probably not helping by talking yourself up so much.”

He ignores you with a throwaway grunt and nuzzles into you further.

“You’re so… popular,” he muses, watching the way your hands pass over the glasses, “I've barely been able to say a word to you. It’s nice, everyone's really nice.”

“It’s been a very good time for me… living here. Despite not having you so close. I’ll be sad to see the back of it at the end of the year.”

You lean over the sink and attempt to start the washing up while people pace to and from the room, collecting their belongings, singing drunken goodbyes and blowing sloppy kisses. But when you try to turn to gather the rest of the dishes, Javi holds on to you incessantly.

“Don’t move,” he whispers in your ear.

“What?”

“Please, just… don’t move.”

He crowds up behind you closer, and you immediately feel the weight of his erection pressing against your backside.

“Are you hard?” you snort quizically.

“Devastatingly. Now please just do me a favour and don’t move.”

You laugh quietly for his own discretion, both at his candid begging and his flagrant arousal.

“What is that about?”

“I just can’t stop looking at you. Been looking at you from across the room all night. Now can you stop doing the damn dishes and just kiss me, please?”

You take one small look over his shoulder to see if the room is clear, but in reality, you couldn't care less if anyone saw you. This was your apartment, these people were your friends, and you were quite sure everyone had either left or passed out anyway. Turning to face him, you let him gather you up eagerly, press your back against the counter, and kiss you.

“You know, people are going to catch on eventually if we continue surreptitiously not seeing other people. Especially when you go away. They can spin a rumour about me being gay, but I’m not so sure you’ll get away with that one.”

“Do you want them to?" he murmurs as he kisses tenderly along your jaw. "Catch on, I mean.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe. I never expected things to be like this, let alone for so long. I’ve had plenty of difficult thoughts about this whole thing but that was never one of them. Like I said, my life here is… different.”

“Difficult thoughts?” he queries, catching on to that phrase in a heartbeat, his kisses faltering quickly.

“Yeah. A few.”

“About me?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

He looks at you, brows raised but not accusatory, waiting for your explanation. When he sees your lip quiver, his own pops out in a disheartened pout. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing. I’m just, happy.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re happy,” he panders, digging his fingers into your waist tighter to hold you more firmly, as if you’ll slip away given the chance.

“I’m sad because I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“But why does that make you sad?” he chuckles, confusion plain on his shining face.

“Because I never expected to be this happy, ever. And now I am. And now I know what it will feel like to not be this happy maybe ever again.”

You stare at him lovingly, silent tears falling from your eyes.

“You’re leaving,” you say simply, sadly, “and I don’t think you realise just how far gone you’re going to be.” You feel your eyes glass over even more, your sinuses heavy as you bite your lip to detract from the sensation. “Javi, I-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to say it. I know. Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll try my best.”

You take a deep breath and make a choice, one you’ve known has been coming for a while now. But the preparation doesn't make it hurt any less.

“I just want you to do what’s right for you. And I’ll do the same. And if those things happen to meet in the middle eventually, like they have done until now, then maybe I’ll get to be this happy again. And if not, then at least I’ll be glad that you’ve kept your promise.”

He understands where you're going with this immediately. He knows you’ll have had a plan, marked out your borders the moment he’d signed his new contract. You needed to know where this was going or where it wasn’t. You needed to minimise the damage wherever possible.

“You wouldn’t ask me to stay?”

“Never.”

“Why?”

“Because you might say yes. And I could never be the thing to keep you somewhere. Not if it wasn't where you wanted to be.”

He laughs again at your frankness, your ability to surmise exactly the problem at hand, so entirely unique to the two of you. But the look in his eye is sad now, struggling to chase off the disappointment at hand.

“I want you to promise that we’ll never be the thing that holds the other one back,” you continue, showing your brave face as you look him right in the eye, despite the fact it feels as though you’re being stabbed. “That’s what I want from you. This will be… whatever it will be, and that’s fine. But everything’s changing, for real. I can just feel it. And even though I’m sad about it, I won’t let it stop you. And you just promise me that when it’s my turn, you’ll do the same.”

“So what, we’re both just too stubborn to do the right thing?”

“Because we’re stubborn we’re doing the right thing. There’s a reason this was never going to be simple. We know each other too well. We both want more than we can have.”

“And what if it does work out? Eventually?” he asks tentatively, raising an eyebrow ever so slowly.

“Then you just let me know. And I’ll be there. I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Just don’t expect it to be soon. We both have a lot to prove in the meantime.”

He collapses into you with a huff, unable to query a word, and grateful that he didn't have to be the one to say it. It's all there in the way that he holds you; the gentle rub of his thumb against your ribs, the press of his nose against your shoulder, the way his foot rests plainly against yours.

"When accounting for the line at infinity, even parallel lines intersect eventually. Or so they say."

"They don't teach projective geometry in school for a reason," he quips, pinching at your side teasingly. “I’m so lucky to have had you like this. This year and the one before it. I’m lucky to have had you like this at all.”

“It’s been a very good year,” you sigh, falling into him with equal enthusiasm. “Now make love to me in this kitchen and we’ll hope and pray that the next one is even half as good.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he growls tenderly, and gets down on his knees.

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foreigndistance · 1 year

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I love S.E.M an insane amount. (a reflection)

“If it weren’t for S.E.M, would I even be here right now?”

Okay, correction: “If I didn’t meet S.E.M again through a random Google search a few years ago, would I even be here right now?”

Let’s turn back the clock for a moment. I got into 2D fictional idols through Love Live! back in mid-2017 with me first watching the School Idol Project anime on a whim. Timeskip to months later in October and I went through Sunshine!! Season 2 when it was airing, and I remembered vaguely hearing things about THE IDOLM@STER back then. I had a loose idea about SideM’s existence through clips from the anime (which was airing on that same season) along with IDOLiSH7 and Tsukipro – both fellow male idol series that I also encountered. Neither did I pay closer attention to these nor was I into male idols though.

Here’s this bit from a previous lovemail from a few years ago: I wasn’t fully open about my interests towards others. I feared that nobody would understand what I enjoy, especially if it isn't as well-known as what a typical person would know. Before becoming an idol fan, I was more into magical girl anime, tokusatsu, and Western animation in general – all of which are niche interests in their own right.

Skip to 2019. By that point, I was already into IM@S by that point, albeit focusing more on 765Pro and Million Live’s activities via Theater Days. In January, I started Shiny Colors and LIVE ON ST@GE! for the first time, and both had uh – let’s just say, “unique” ways of handling non-rhythm game-like mechanics. (I haven't touched the older console games yet.) I was more of a casual fan of the two branches (compared to 765) and I was more focused on my high school life, which hadn’t started crumbling down just yet. I didn’t stay with the two games as much as Mirishita.

My first starter idol in MStage was Ryo, mainly because of his connection with the console games. Touma and Ryo’s connections to 765Pro immediately made them my initial favorite idols in SideM, but three men clad in pink and silver spandex caught my attention: S.E.M. The unit’s concept of a trio of ex-teachers becoming idols to motivate and inspire students to study and follow their dreams struck me. I regretted not starting off with any of the members, so I left my original MStage account, opting to return with a S.E.M starter idol when I gave it a second chance.

I chose Rui as my new starter idol in April 2019, but I didn’t really have a no. 1 favorite idol by then. I read a few of whatever was translated and listened to some of the songs; but I was more focused on Mirishita and acted more casually towards the other branches.

But on a more personal note, I was starting to go through some… mixed feelings in my personal life.

My boyfriend and I broke up after 11 months, had to give up taking part in a club I’ve been involved in for the past 2 years by then, and constantly got annoyed at some teachers’ way of doing things which affected my enjoyment of the subjects I studied for… And on top of that, it was starting to feel more lonely as I saw friend groups I knew split apart for a moment and I would feel unwanted at times when my close friends aren’t around.

It was getting lonely. Being with the school newspaper team felt most like home when our meetings happened, but it wasn’t enough.

(Don’t worry, I’m okay now and my friends – including my ex – are currently on good terms.)

December 4, 2019. The router at home was having internet problems and I couldn’t properly play the Mirishita event at the time, “Hitomi no Naka no Sirius”. I was at home since we didn’t have to go to school because of a holiday. I don’t fully remember what led to me messing around on my two phones – but for some reason, I typed “S.E.M” onto Google search on a whim and found their work again. It was clear that I was bored by that point, so I started reading their magazines and event stories again to pass the time.

Seeing S.E.M and the relationship within the trio… reminded me of home. What appealed to me about them wasn’t just their “silly” reason for becoming idols in the first place or their entire concept (which is already something you don’t see in other mixed media idol/music franchises often), it was the relationship between three grown men (who were colleagues from the same workplace they left) getting into the entertainment industry just to inspire and motivate others to follow their dreams and, of course, study. School had a strong importance for most of my life where I could show my true self without feeling restricted by my family’s presence. Seeing them… made me smile.

I started rambling about them – especially Jiro, who initially became my favorite among the trio back then – to my best friend. The brainrot slowly took over. I was already sure that all three of them were here to stay this time. The brainrot made me reinstall MStage and return to my account, and I started playing the original Mobage with my beginner-level Japanese knowledge.

As I started talking more about that trio of ex-teachers with her, I realized how insecure I really was about my interests; too shy to talk to random strangers online as well. At that time, it felt like that had to change. I created my present-day Twitter account in early 2020. That was originally dedicated to my interests (and eventually became my main account) and I started talking in English-speaking IM@S servers more often. I’ve made friends with people from around the world and from my own home country. I even started posting some of my own art on there and would try to start posting on other social media platforms over the years. It was nerve-wracking, but perhaps it made me feel a little less lonely compared to before, looking back.

When I left another fandom (which was related to IRL idols) in early 2020, I made a pledge to myself that no matter how bad the branch’s situation gets, I would stay with the boys until the end. Of all the media I have ever touched, none would come close as to what THE IDOLM@STER SideM would ever bring me into on a very personal level. Its message and theme of starting over again at any age resonated with me, and it hits hard especially as I grew older. I’ve met many Producers of varying branches over the last 3-4 years, have taken part in several fan community projects – including running entire Twitter accounts and fan wikis and Discord servers – and helped me learn some skills along the way.

As for my tantous in IM@S itself? Michio Hazama (and by extension, S.E.M as whole) would overtake everyone, of course. Entering 2020, I had to rank the New Year’s Michio event in LIVE ON ST@GE! right after I just returned to it, then my first S.E.M-focused event since I started the Mobage was a Michio rank. The first artwork I posted on Twitter publicly was his New Year event SR for his birthday.

Of all the tantous I’ve met, none could reach the same personal level of love, care, and interest I have for them as much as him. (Even if a certain Cinderella Girl came to challenge that notion.) I remembered one of my types being a quiet, serious guy with glasses. His silent passion and strict (yet caring) demeanor towards his pupils, the way he wants to see them succeed from an educator’s point of view, and his moments with the cast – especially with his unitmates and Producer – brought me immense warmth.

I knew he would become my favorite idol within the branch as time went on, but he eventually won me over the most within the entire franchise. A serious man in glasses is an archetype you would often see, but seeing a teacher figure want the best for his students and his unit, as well as being passionate about his work and not being overly loud about it drives me insane.

——————————————————————————————

Fast forward to 2022. When GROWING STARS had its 1st anniversary campaign, the vibes I got from the online surroundings at the time didn’t settle well with me. Honestly, I was very disappointed with the execution of the anniversary campaign itself, although I tried to keep myself in tact. There was a lingering feeling that what is now a core aspect of myself about to break down once again, especially seeing how some Producers I met through SideM had (understandably) either left or took a break for better, greener pastures. I found myself turning towards a certain pair of adult ladies from another production to help me go through my short break from SideM at the time, but still kept in touch with IM@S by that point. As I thought about the other idols (who are over 20 y/o) I would eventually produce – especially when it comes to that pair of ladies – I thought to myself that what if SideM helped rewire my taste.

And now, with the advent of the last remaining SideM game’s impending, terribly received, and horribly executed shutdown and with Bandai Namco having revealed its future plans through a roadmap... I’m lost and unsure where to go. It’s like I KNOW where to go, but don’t know how to go further despite the circumstances. I even gave a large “sigh” towards the announcement before I’d write the GROWING STARS shutdown notice itself onto the SideM ENG Twitter.

It took me a few days to write up my full response towards the shutdown announcement up to the point where I was writing it in the middle of my trip days after the stream. Before that, I had left several disappointed tweets which eventually became hit tweet after hit tweet.

I’ve been into IM@S as a Producer for 5 years by this point. I didn’t want to celebrate it like this.

Despite everything though, I told myself that I wouldn’t leave. I did say that I would still keep in touch with IM@S, and I can’t deny the impact that it has left towards me and how I saw my IM@S tantou roster (which has grown since I became S.E.M’s Producer.) I’ve had moments where I questioned my worth as a P over the past few years. I've seen others’ achievements when I’m still trying to get my foot into learning Japanese up to this day. I've seen other Producers, same tantou or otherwise, rank high in the games when points ranking was still a thing while I’ve never been able to get past the Top 1000 event points ranking for a S.E.M/Michio-focused event. And I may probably never will.

However...

If it weren’t for the people I’ve met, the characters I’ve met, and the Producers I’ve met and would encounter... I often have my lonely days and would feel gloomy over things for no particular reason (and I still do), but I wouldn’t trade my own experiences with different friend groups I’ve made for the world.

I want to reach as high as I can to beat my past Top 100 success in Mirishita, even if it’s through my actions in a game I’ve yet to reach that same level. For as long as I’m allowed to produce my tantou units through whatever games they have left.

I want to continue supporting the idols I’ve met, and the two units I’ll continue to produce. Taking care of a pair of drinking buddies who are over 20 and a trio of ex-teachers doesn’t sound too bad.

I love S.E.M an insane amount. I love Michio an even more insane amount.

Because I wouldn’t be here without them. And maybe I wouldn't have gotten that first push to do all of what I’ve done without them.

#producer's rambles #s: sideM #idolmaster #sideM

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peru-perusals · 5 days

Text

Day 19 - Miami Layover

Photo by Holly

We landed in Miami at an ungodly hour of the morning but by the time we made it out of the airport, it was a much more reasonable time!

Photo by Holly

We took bus down to the Playa cafe, across the street from the Eggstaurant we had been to on our first Miami Layover.

Photo by Holly

I got an excellent Cuban sandwich and pondered @b1g-cheese's post about Karen Gillan filming a movie at George Fox.

Photo by Holly

Bernadette wanted to go to mass and more people kept tagging along until all of the students went to mass at St. Patrick's and Holly went out to the beach.

Photo by Alyssa

The mass was incredible, they had a full orchestra and choir in the loft, which just rung through the entire church. I was glad to have sung Mozart's Mass in C in choir this past semester so I knew what they were singing about in Latin. When mass got out, we had a half hour before we had planned to meet up with Holly so we sat in the shade beneath this lighthouse sculpture.

Photo by Haley

We went from there to a crab place renounced for their key lime pie. They gave us a full can of whipped cream that we used excessively.

Photo by Alyssa

We headed out to the beach and headed into the waves! We played a thrilling game of wavelength while we bobbed about. I was remarkably bad at that game, guessing 8 when the actual number was 5.

Photo by Holly

Photo by Alyssa

This is where the story gets much less fun. If you want to skip that, please pretend that we picked up lunch from Trader Joe's and spent the rest of our time in Miami at the botanical garden, before taking the bus back to the airport as planned and boarding our flight back to Portland and all living happily ever after. Thanks for reading my blog and following along as I perused Peru!

But here's what actually happened. We got out of the water and set off towards the botanical garden. As we walked through the park, I rapidly grew weak and collapsed to the ground in a relatively controlled manner. The group had continued walking, so I texted them and tried a group call. I was hyperventilating and losing fine motor control, so I used Siri to call a number of members of the group individually, but nobody picked up. I was entirely paralyzed by this point and I dropped my phone into the grass. I thought I saw a dinosaur over me, but it turned out to be an iguana hanging out in the tree. Apparently they had stopped at the bathroom nearby to change out of their swimsuits. My memory is a little hazy, but someone noticed me and they started attending to me. Claire, who is studying to do sports medicine, raised my feet and started walking me through exercises of trying to close my fist and lift my limbs. I wasn't able to do either of those things at first. Bernadette filled my water bottle repeatedly. Someone put cool towels on my chest. Holly called 911 and shortly thereafter paramedics arrived to check my vitals, which were all good. An ambulance arrived too, but they called it off. They said this was pretty normal for the weather, especially since we weren't used to it. I was their fifth call like this of the day. One of the tests they ran hurt a lot; they connected me to what looked like a boombox and it felt like all of my muscles were being activated at the same time. Remind me not to get electrocuted. While I lay on the ground, Holly went to the store to get ice packs and popsicles. By the time she returned, I had regained much muscle function and we walked to the bus station. On the bus, I noticed that the weather had a excessive heat warning for 106-110 in Miami Beach. Missed that. We rode back to the bus station, which had a place for dolphins to park. How accommodating!

I changed out of my swimsuit and we took the tram back to the airport. I was getting weaker as we waited in line for TSA for a few hours, so I sat down and scooted myself along the ground until we got to the front, where I did my best to act like a fully functioning human being as I went through security. They fell for my ruse, but I fell to the ground shortly after we got through. I had cold feverish chills emanating from my spine and rippling through my body, which was fairly concerning to Holly, who called 911 for the second time. Paramedics arrived and ran a series of tests, but luckily not the excruciatingly painful one. Once again my vitals were fine, and encouraged me to get food and liquids in my system. I lay on the ground while Holly tried to hail one of the accessibility golf carts to take me to our gate, halfway across the airport. A while later, she succeeded. Unfortunately, I lost my key lime pie on the way over. I cleaned up and we rode the rest of the way. We arrived at the gate and reconvened with the rest of the group but our fight had moved to another gate. I thought I was feeling strong enough to walk there, but after a few hundred feet, I needed to sit down again and we hailed a cart to take us to the new gate.

We sat and waited for the flight but I wasn't feeling well enough to board. The rest of the group boarded but Holly stayed behind with me. I fell asleep on the floor at the gate while Holly stood in the line for hours to rebook us for a flight the following day. When I woke up, I hailed another accessibility cart to take me as far as the airport hotel where Holly had booked us a room. The line snaked around the room, so I parked myself on the floor, slowly scooting me and my luggage forward as we moved. Holly arrived about midnight, just as I got to the front of the line. She had booked through some sort of 3rd party and they only sent over one confirmation code which the hotel computers read as there being one room. She had to call the 3rd party but the hotel's phone lines were down so they couldn't receive confirmation by phone. While she got this sorted out, I fell asleep, slumped over my backpack on the floor of the hotel lobby. Holly eventually woke me up and I moved to a couch while she continued to sort things out with the hotel. I fell asleep there as well. At 1:30am, the hotel gave us our keys and we took the elevator up to our rooms and I collapsed into my bed, which was much more comfortable than all of the various places in the airport where I had slept on the floor.

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a-mag-a-day · 1 year

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MAG 98 - mowing the lawn

Glad that at least Tim and Martin are kind of alright together.

Elias wanting Martin to continue reading statements really is super suspicious for the BackupArchivist!Martin theory.

MARTIN "He did suggest I try to get you involved and –" - God, my boss is like this and I hate it… Pushing the task of telling my colleagues what to do onto me. It's not my job to do that, I don't even think it's my place to do that. But if I don't, the work gets stuck on me…

TIM [Sigh] "Look, have you talked to Jon about them?" - Aw, that's so cute. I'm sure at this point Tim totally knows about Martin's crush. Must have happened some time after he thought Jon's seeing Basira?

TIM [Grunts] "Kind of. We tried to talk, but he, he reached for that – Ah, he, he wanted to turn on his recorder. I freaked out a bit" - Also good to see that Jon and Tim at least tried to talk. Wonder why Jon wanted to turn on the tape recorder though…

MARTIN "Yeah, we talked. Not long, he – Y’know, I think he thinks that the distance keeps us safe, you know? Like, like, if he just makes sure that we’re not involved, we’re somehow fine." TIM "He’s an idiot. Look, we didn’t know what that door was, and it still trapped us. Ignorance isn’t going to save anyone." - I mean, Jon is a bit of an idiot [affectionately]. But I don't think that's what Tim meant here?

MARTIN "No, I mean, you’re right, I guess. He was… Y’know, we know about Sasha now, and… he said he doesn’t want to lose anyone else. Like, y’know, it’s his fault." TIM "Isn’t it?" MARTIN "No! No, it isn’t! I mean, you heard Elias… We never really stood a chance." TIM "Yeah. Maybe. But Elias wasn’t actually the one who offered me the job down here." - OFFERED! And YOU TOOK IT. This is a really unhealthy mindset, constantly blaming others, especially for things that are just so out of everybody's hands. I know, Tim's mental health is too far gone at that point to realize this and Jon is an easy target since he was actually very guilty of stalking Tim.

MARTIN "No, I – Sure." - Martin realized there is no possible way of convincing Tim otherwise even when providing him with objective information. Tim has a certain mindset and won't deviate from this so easily. This is also why the deficit model for science communication won't work for a lot of people. The problem roots in cognition.

Hehehe Martin talking to tape recorders as if they are pets xD Does this also count as part of Web!Martin?

"It was an oilskin packet of documents, supposedly from the log-books of Franklin’s lost ship, the HMS Terror." - OMG how have I never noticed this until now (I mean, I know why, because it's an old-ass statement and I always have a hard time following them). By that I mean the mention of the HMS Terror.

"It was a German tome titled Die Nachtstücke" - Almost, Alex. ST in German is pronounced SHT. But he managed the CH and Ü, so props to him.

"and contained several morbid tales by a man named Hoffman." - God, I almost didn't recognize the name. Nobody here just says "Hoffman", it's always E.T.A. Hoffman. I never read any of his works, though someone in my class did a presentation of Das Fräulein von Scuderi. The Cardillac Syndrom described in it always spoke to me (just not to THAT extent xD)

"Far from the comforting friend of children he is so often portrayed as, he was rendered as quite the monster." - tbh, a lot those old German folk or fairytales (for children) were quite brutal and scary. I knew of the Sandman as both as a kid, of this benevolent little being as well as the one punishing kids with their sand until their eyes bled. Thought it was cool.

MARTIN "I wish Jon kept better organised notes because I know he’s mentioned someone called Maxwell Rayner, but I cannot find much in the way of any info –" - I love how both of them complain about the other one's working style xD Interesting, that we now got the information that Rayner seems to be old af.

Hm, is it a coincidence that Martin and Melanie talking about recording statements when he just did one of the Dark and Melanie also did one of the Dark?

MELANIE "Al-Although I was just going to have a talk with Elias, so, uh, maybe I can convince him to cut you some slack." - That's very nice of Melanie. Though I believe she thought they would be rid of Elias in about an hour XD

MELANIE "Right. Fair. Listen, you really look like you could use a drink. Um, me and Basira were just about to pop out. So… do you want to join us?" - Also very nice of her. Glad to see that the archival team sticks a bit more together here.

ELIAS [Chuckles slightly] "I don’t know everything, Melanie. Do you know how exhausting that would be?" - Slight nod to the state he'll be in after the Change? Or how much it's also gonna be a strain on Jon.

ELIAS "Let’s have no more clumsy assassination attempts, alright?" - So, is he alright with not-clumsy assassination attempts? XD

All the Archival assistants are going through a hard time this season. Melanie especially in this episode.

#a mag a day #tma #the magnus archives #episode asks #mag 98 #lycanlovingvampyre #mod elian #tma spoilers

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everydaygremlin · 1 year

Text

Faithless

By everydaygremlin

Written in March 2023

my mutauls told me to post this

———————————-———————————-

“…And I mean, have you seen them? They're like nature’s little- Hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, ‘course I am.” I replied.

I don’t know why he chooses me of all people to talk to about bees. I’m barely interested. Still, it’s nice to hear him talk so passionately about something, especially while on the job.

Us Greens don’t end up in many fights, but when we do, we often lose. It’s honestly ridiculous that we ended up part of The Alliance. We would’ve been a far easier target than the Blues, but who am I to judge. I'm not really supposed to be on gate duty with my little brother, but I’m filling in for one of his teammates, who went missing a couple days ago, and we have yet to find.

The last place her tracker was seen was on the edge of the Red territory, and no one has the guts to go look for her. The Red are fierce soldiers, and we’d probably find her dead. Gruesomely, at the least. Last time someone was found, their eyeballs had been gouged out, and their teeth put in their eye sockets. I think they have fun with the corpses of their enemies, even though they aren’t really supposed to kill us as part of the Alliance. It’s on the verge of collapsing though, as the Gods are getting sick of it. After a long time of waiting around with, to nobody’s surprise, nothing happening, someone took over gate duty and me and my brother went to dinner. It was almost all vegetables, but they were cooked really well, almost as if there was a new-

“COOK! You look different. Really different. Wait a second, i didn’t think we were getting a new-“

“Are you enjoying the food? Is it good?” The new cook was tall, like really tall, with blonde medium length hair. I had never seen her before, except for maybe…

“Hey,” I leant over to whisper to my brother, “doesn’t she look a bit like one of the Red fighters? a bit like Char-“

“Well, enjoy the food!” She quickly left, and moved to the next table. No idea why she was doing that.

“What were you saying?” My brother turned to me.

“I was saying, the cook looks a little bit like Charlotte. You know, that Red soldier who we caught last month.” She was inside our grounds. She ended up escaping our prisons when someone was sloppy.

“Well, yeah, a bit. And I don’t recognise her. Maybe we should talk to our superiors about it.”

“You know how hard it is to raise concerns with them. They don’t listen to anyone.”

“I guess you’re right.”

We left the cafeteria, and went to get some sleep before our next shift.

About halfway through our shift, I had an idea.

I turned to my brother. “What if we took off our uniforms, and changed into our normal clothes, and went out onto the field to start our OWN team?”

“Why would we- Hey maybe you have a point. Management for us is so strict, maybe it’s strict for everyone else too. And we wouldn’t have to bow to the gods, OH OH AND WE COULD GO LOOK AT THE BEES! Yeah, this is a great idea! But when should we start…”

“Tomorrow. They have the least people on at 9 in the morning. We could sneak out.” I knew the schedules from when there were more or less people coming in for repairs. Technicians also would occasionally get access to the cameras.

“Right. This is an awesome plan!” He looked… really, really happy. The last time he looked like this was when I got him a pass into the library. He spends almost all his free time in the library since then. Sometimes he would drag me along. I didn't mind. We were lucky to be able to walk among the towers of books.

The next morning, we were almost caught by one of our teammates.

“And where do you think you're going?” Her short stature didn't make her any less intimidating.

“Crap-“

“And why are you headed to the gate?”

“Oh- Uhm- Hi Alice! We were just uhh-“

“And most importantly, can I come with you?” She grinned at us. She wanted to leave as well! Soon, we ended up with her following us. Three of us, all leaving. The gate staff also joined us. Now we had no reason to be sceptical of our plan. Our awesome plan was working.

———————————-———————————-

After a couple months of being out on the field, we had a well-established fort in the forest; the no-man's land, and began calling ourselves the Faithless. The fort was made of old machinery and found resources. The structure resembled that of a castle, and was, in my opinion, far better than the main teams forts, just like our team! We ate at one big table, all, well, 30 of us. A sizable number of members, all fed up with their management, just looking for a reason to leave. No-one missed them, we think. We were steadily gaining members, not just through word of mouth, but we occasionally sent out scouts to the gates and front lines. Scouting had proved to have no issues thus far, and it was my responsibility today. I had to head to the Yellow team. Not really a threat.

What was usually a long and treacherous journey turned into a short walk through the desert with some found technology I personally had assembled into a flying machine. The propellers surprisingly worked on the hot desert sands. At the gate, I was surprised to see the guards staffed with nets. They’d be useless, unless they knew what happened to their staff. The staff that joined us.

“Still, I refuse to believe they weren’t killed. Maybe they died of heatstroke?” I overheard the guard's discussion.

“Nope, they definitely ran away. Management says there’s camera footage.”

That’s impossible. We made sure to kill all the cameras nearby. And it was a planned ordeal. They would run to us within the next week, not that night.

“Hey, is there someone there?”

“Where?”

“Just there, behind that pillar,” The guard pointed at the pillar I was hiding behind. I had been spotted. I tried my hardest to run, but their new nets caught me.

“Hah, gotcha, filthy runaway!” The taller guard said.

“Nonono, you’ve got it all wrong! You see, I’m just a delivery scout! Out to ensure that uh, your gate is up to our gate-using standards!” Drat! Of all the times for me to be bad at lying!

“Silence, criminal! We know of your evil plans! And we have our own, even evil-er plans!”

“Archibald and Alvin, celebrated as the heroes of the Yellow team! Recruiting the runaways' most sneaky spies, and forcing them to join us!”

He kept talking for probably the next ten minutes, maybe more. His voice was so boring. I reached for the knife in my back pocket, hoping to cut the net I was trapped in. The ropes were sharp, and if I didn't get out of here soon, I would end up cut. As I tried to manoeuvre my arm around far enough to cut the rope, the two guards, who I had now gathered to be Archibald and Alvin, brought me through the gate. Any chance of a quiet escape went out the window.

“... and no, you can’t escape, no, you can’t build a bomb, and most importantly, you don’t get to go to the gate. You have to stay within your bounds.” Archibald, or maybe Alvin, was trying to point out everything on our tour of the grounds. Eventually, we reached the board room. The office of the leadership. They would decide what would happen to me. I looked back at the hallway, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

———————————-———————————-

The leadership issued a guard to take me back to where I would be staying. I surely hoped that it would not be some kind of prison cell, but was pleasantly surprised. It was small, but there was wardrobe space, a desk, and a bathroom. My first shift back as a technician was tomorrow, at 9:45. I just had to hope, hope that they’d realise I was missing.

———————————-———————————-

The next morning, people were starting to notice I was gone. These missions usually never took more than 12 hours, and I had been gone for almost a full day. My brother was asking anyone if they’d seen me. all of them had the same answer. “No, sorry. Last I heard she was at the yellow base.” and he was dreading coming to break me out. But it was necessary. I WAS his sister, after all.

Rescue missions are ill-advised in the main teams, but in a team like ours, the loyalty to one another is immeasurable.

When he tried to assemble a team, almost everybody showed up. “Well, guess we’re all going.” he said to the small crowd.

Everyone here was all different, but they all have one thing in common. “You all ready to beat up some corrupt leaders and get our friends out?“

The group began cheering.

They were definitely ready to beat up some corrupt leaders. And also get their friend and leader out, but beating up corrupt leaders had more enthusiasm.

———————————-———————————-

My cell, more similar to a hotel room than a prison cell, was on a lower floor. It had some outside access, but the window didn’t open further than a couple inches.

The food was okay, as was work.

I had to work as a technician, fixing things. All of the other technicians knew seemingly nothing about the tech. No wonder repairs here took over a month, even with all of the high tech equipment in this dimly lit room, with the walls covered in a mess of pipes and wires, similar to the inside of some massive machine. Every time I tried talking to the other technicians, even just about the weather, they would mutter something quietly, and not wait for a response.

One time, I asked them why they were so quiet. One of them lent over to me, and whispered; “They used to be able to hear us, so we made things to communicate with one another without them hearing.” They handed me an earpiece, and when I put it on, there was a buzzing conversation.

They sounded like they were planning an escape. Except, they knew nothing of the Faithless. From what I heard, the only thing sitting between them and freedom was numbers. They couldn’t escape, all because of their numbers.

But knowledge of people on the outside was just the push they needed

———————————-———————————-

The plan that the yellow tech team came up with was an amazing idea. With the knowledge that they had a place to get to on the other side, it was perfect. Cause an electrical fault with the gate, the biggest piece of equipment, bringing all of the technicians there, broadcasting their message, and then running. Running and running and running. Running until finally…

———————————-———————————-

Halfway to the yellow gate, the Faithless saw a large group of yellow workers, running like their lives depended on it. Which they did, kind of. But they had reached a safe point, and they were out. They burst into the fort of the Faithless, relieved to finally have escaped.

———————————-———————————-

We had made it. We were all free.

With our numbers nearly doubled, we recruited far more people, eventually dwindling the numbers of the main teams to a small team of those in charge and some incredibly loyal staff. The rest were all those who were so sick and tired of fighting. We had all run from the battlegrounds, much to the dismay of management.

We were on our way to a new, far brighter, future.

#my writing #writing #gremlin writing #i was told by narrator to post #ignore the shitty ass formatting

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motownfiction · 1 year

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we have to hurry

The Armstrongs come back for dinner the following Christmas. This time, Kevin didn’t invite them. Mom did. As luck – is it luck? – would have it, she and Susie became fast friends over last year’s Christmas ham. Now, it’s like it only makes sense that the Armstrongs would join the Sheehans once again.

Katie is working double overtime to conceal her excitement.

Thankfully, it’s pretty easy. If there’s one thing Katie is good at, it’s running long distances. But if there are two things Katie is good at, they’re running long distances and keeping her cool. That’s why nobody ever knew she had a crush on Lizzy Blossom all throughout senior year. That’s why nobody ever knew how she felt like she was dying when Harley Sullivan proposed to Lizzy Blossom on the day after graduation back in June (and why nobody ever knew how thrilled Katie was to hear they broke up seven weeks later). If you told anybody at St. Catherine’s that Katie Sheehan was a lesbian the whole time she was there, their jaws would hit the floor. Katie made damn sure of it.

So what if she spent two years of her high school career hopelessly in love with Steph Armstrong? So what if she’s finally in college at the same school as Steph and attending real parties there? So what if she’s gotten to know Steph really well? So what if the last three parties have ended with Steph kissing Katie like they’re in Casablanca – with Katie gazing up at Steph’s ceiling? So what about any of it?

At least, that’s what she has to tell herself.

On the inside, she is dancing like she’s never danced before.

When Steph and her mother walk through the Sheehans’ door early in the evening on Christmas, she and Katie immediately lock eyes. Katie thinks she could either sink through the wooden floors or fly through the roof. Steph is more and more beautiful each day. Today, she wears a houndstooth blouse and a short black skirt, like a teacher, but decidedly edgier. Katie can’t stop staring at her. She’s beautiful. She’s beautiful, and Katie’s spending another year in an oversized ugly sweater.

But when Steph tells Katie she likes the sweater, somehow, Katie knows she means it.

Mom asks Katie and Steph to go down into the cellar and bring up some wine and some Cokes for the under-twenty-one crowd. Kevin, who won’t be twenty-one until June, tries to round up his age another few months. Mom says that’s why she put the girls on beverages.

“Yeah, but remember last year, when they ended up under the mistletoe?” Kevin asks, laughing a little too hard for Katie’s taste. “What if it happens again?”

Katie shoots Kevin a look. He’s the only person in their family (extended or otherwise) who knows she’s a lesbian. He’s the only person who knows she’s been hooking up with Steph (except for Steph herself). If he makes the wrong move – says the wrong thing – it could all be over. Luckily, with one stare, he shapes up. Katie exhales. Kevin’s done a lot of growing up since all those classes he had to repeat.

Steph follows Katie into the cellar downstairs. As Katie looks through the wine for something she thinks her mother would like, Steph makes small talk – much smaller than Katie expected from somebody she makes out with at least once every week.

“I can’t believe your family is rich enough to have a cellar,” she says, running her fingers along the selection of pop cans.

“Yeah, well, I guess we are,” Katie says. “That’s what happens when your dad leaves behind a small fortune, and your mom sticks around to make it bigger.”

“I guess so.”

Katie digs her heel into the ground and looks at Steph with stubborn eyes.

“Look, I don’t want to push you,” she says. “Especially because you’ve made it clear that when it comes to you and me, you’re the pusher.”

Steph turns bright red.

“I … what?” she asks.

“Don’t be that way. You’re being weird around me. It’s Christmas, you’re in my house, and you’re being weird around me.”

Steph sighs nervously.

“Well, I guess,” she says. “But can you really blame me? Our mothers are here. I don’t want my mother to know I’m sleeping with anyone. Last year, when she found out I slept with your brother, she made fun of me for two weeks.”

“That’s different.”

“Why is that different?”

“My brother is a pitiful choice.”

Steph smiles. Katie feels her heart break, just a little, in the corner. If she could scoop Steph up now and kiss her like she would anywhere else … if she could, if she could.

“I’m serious, though,” Katie says. “I know … I know it’s not gonna be like it was for you and … well, you know.”

Steph nods. They don’t talk about Sam, but he’s always there, lingering in the background like some Rob Lowe-looking ghost Katie will never be able to compete with.

“But it doesn’t have to be weird, either,” she adds. “It doesn’t have to be … look, I like you. And I’m pretty sure you like me.”

“I do,” Steph says, and Katie knows she means it. She can feel it.

“Yeah, I know. So, can’t that be enough? Can’t we just … like each other? Even in my house on Christmas?”

Steph grins with all her teeth. Katie’s heart mends and breaks all at once. She didn’t even know that was possible. Then again, she didn’t think Steph Armstrong was possible, either. But here they are. Here they’ll stay. Maybe.

“We have to hurry,” Steph says.

Katie wrinkles her nose.

“Hurry?” she asks. “Hurry wha–?”

But she doesn’t have time to eke out that last syllable. Before she knows it, Steph’s arms are around her, and she’s kissing her like Casablanca. Katie feels herself blush in the middle of it. Even though Steph says they have to hurry, there’s no sign of her stopping. Katie giggles in the midst of the kiss, but Steph still holds on tight.

Now Katie knows why they call her Armstrong.

#drabble #writeblr #ch: katie sheehan #ch: steph armstrong #ch: kevin sheehan #year: 1987 #ship: happy together

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mariacallous · 2 years

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Meduza's The Beet: Fight or flight: Russia’s HIV patients fear mobilization

Hello, and welcome back to The Beet!

I’m Eilish Hart, the editor of this weekly email dispatch from Meduza that brings you original reporting and in-depth analysis on developments across Eurasia. To all of our new subscribers — thanks for joining us! If you missed last week’s issue about Belarus’s deteriorating sovereignty, it’s now available on Meduza’s website. If you’re not a subscriber, why not change that? Sign up here.

Russia’s chaotic mobilization has been grabbing headlines for weeks. Announced by Vladimir Putin himself on September 21, the call-up officially brought in 318,000 new recruits by the beginning of November. According to Putin, the mobilization ended 10 days ago (just in time for Russia’s fall conscription drive), but its effects are far from over. Fearing the military’s dragnet, hundreds of thousands Russians have fled abroad, upping the pressure on nearby countries that have already absorbed tens of thousands of newcomers since February 24. Though some draft-age men who left Russia are now returning home, they are likely the exception to the rule, given the threat of prosecution for draft dodging and the fact that, according to legal experts, the mobilization is technically still in effect.

Meanwhile, reports of the Russian authorities’ negligence abound: men who should have been exempt from service were swept up in the draft, dozens of conscripts have died without ever being deployed, and ill-prepared recruits are being slaughtered in Ukraine. In this context, potential draftees have faced a choice between fighting — on the frontlines or with Russia’s military bureaucracy — or fleeing abroad. For those with serious health conditions, this decision is especially fraught. For The Beet, journalist Sergey Faldin reports on how Russians living with HIV have navigated the risks of mobilization and emigration.

Some of the names in this story have been changed or omitted for safety reasons.

Fight or flight: Russia’s HIV patients fear mobilization

By Sergey Faldin

A week into Russia’s “partial” mobilization, the country’s leading human rights lawyer, Pavel Chikov, shared the following messages from his Telegram subscribers:

“Sverdlovsk region. My brother is 38. HIV+. The military officer simply said, ‘Do you give a damn where you die?’”

“Moscow. They’re taking my friend, 30 years old, who has HIV. He brought documents, but the enlistment office doesn’t care.”

“St. Petersburg. I have [late-stage] HIV. The enlistment officer insulted me and did not even look at my medical history.”

Officially, most Russians with HIV/AIDS are medically exempt from military service. But this doesn’t happen automatically. It requires undergoing a battery of medical tests and obtaining paperwork confirming your diagnosis.

Newly mobilized Russian reservists at a send-off ceremony in Serpukhov, Russia. October 10, 2022.

ALEXANDER SHCHERBAK / TASS

“Before the war, people who declared their HIV-positive status to the military enlistment office didn’t have any problems receiving a category D military certificate [‘unfit for service’],” said Anton Eremin, a Russian infectious disease doctor who fled to Paris after the February invasion. “If the enlistment office knew about your status, you weren’t subject to conscription — end of the story.”

But what happens to people who fail to report their HIV status to the enlistment office? And what about those who lack official paperwork or don’t even know they have the virus? Anton urged such people to leave Russia immediately. “For the enlistment office, if it’s not in the documents — it doesn’t exist,” he said.

‘Nobody cared that I have HIV’

Russia ranks among the countries with the most people living with HIV. According to official statistics, the number of registered HIV cases in Russia surpassed 1.1 million in 2021.

“The situation was already difficult before the war,” a thirty-something HIV activist from Moscow told The Beet. “Treatment was available only in big cities. As preventive measures, AIDS centers advised matrimonial sex. So-called HIV ‘experts’ still deny basic WHO [World Health Organization] principles, like U = U [short for undetectable equals untransmittable].”

Over the past five years, Russia has officially recorded between 85,000 and 100,000 new HIV infections annually. Most likely, the actual number of infections is substantially higher. “The number of people living with HIV is growing all the time, yet the budget for treatment remains almost unchanged,” a Russia-based volunteer from Life4Me+, a non-profit working to prevent the spread of HIV, hepatitis C, and tuberculosis, told The Beet.

Today, however, Russian HIV patients face a new challenge. Against the backdrop of the war and, more recently, the mobilization, many are afraid to leave Russia because they don’t know whether they’ll be able to access treatment in other countries.

Kolya, a 29-year-old taxi driver in Moscow with early-stage HIV, told The Beet that he feels stuck in Russia because of a lack of knowledge about whether treatment will be readily available abroad. (Meanwhile, HIV/AIDS patients are reporting shortages of crucial antiretroviral medications across Russia.)

Andrey from Moscow, 33, didn’t receive a summons but decided to report to the enlistment office anyway. Andrey’s medical records were outdated and he knew that he could be drafted at any moment if he didn’t take action. “They put me in a room with other conscripts and started talking about the money our families would receive … nobody cared that I didn’t receive a summons or that I have HIV.” After rounds of negotiations with nurses, he was released after being told to secure the paperwork confirming his HIV status.

For now, at least, people with HIV can rest assured that the law is on their side — as long as they have documents to prove their diagnosis. Amid the mobilization, this has led to a surge on the black market for falsified medical records, with forged HIV certificates selling for anywhere from $190 to $880, Novaya Gazeta Europe reported.

“I heard about people who are attempting to infect themselves with HIV so as not to go to war, but that’s ridiculous,” said Olga, an HIV activist from St. Petersburg. “You can’t just contract a virus in a day.” (Accurate testing for HIV antibodies is typically only possible weeks, if not months, after exposure.)

Still, in a country where laws can be rewritten on a whim, putting your trust in the system could cost you everything. “If you have the option to leave, I recommend leaving,” says Roman Polyakov, an HIV-positive Russian journalist based in Spain. “Even if you have all the proper documents, I wouldn’t place any hopes in the crooked Russian legal system.”

‘It’s a great privilege to be able to leave.’

Maksim Malyshev, 45, was diagnosed with HIV in 1997 after extensive drug use. Back then, antiretroviral therapy (ART) — used to treat HIV — wasn’t available in Russia. “It used to be a terrifying diagnosis,” he told The Beet. “In the EU and U.S., people were only starting to talk about possible treatments. In Russia, there was nothing. My only dream then was to live to see the new millennium. It’s a miracle that I’m still alive.”

Along with the advent of HIV/AIDS treatment in Russia came stigmatization, Maksim recalled: “Each [government-run] AIDS center had a committee that decided who’d get therapy. If you had to choose between Maksim Malyshev, a drug addict, and a pregnant woman, the choice was not in my favor.” Such drastic measures resulted from a funding deficit and a spike in cases across the country.

Today, Maksim works for the Andrey Rylkov Foundation, an NGO helping drug users and HIV patients in Russia. He decided to leave for Georgia in March with his wife and daughter. He’s now running a mental health community center in Tbilisi.

The border crossing with Russia at Verkhny Lars in Georgia on September 28, 2022. Russians crossing into Georgia were met by protesters from Tbilisi, who came to voice their concerns about the influx of draft dodgers.

SHAKH AIVAZOV / AP / SCANPIX / LETA

“The availability of ART in Georgia wasn’t my top priority,” he said, reflecting on his decision to leave Russia. “I bought three-months worth of generic drugs. And I still had a two-month prescription issued at the AIDS center. This gave me a whole five months of treatment.”

Having worked with HIV patients since the early 2000s, Maksim had many contacts and knew he could continue his treatment in Georgia, Turkey, or Armenia if needed. “It’s a great privilege to be able to leave Russia. A lot of people don't have that option,” he explained. “I’m not a rich person, but I have accumulated social capital, which I can rely on.”

Still, HIV treatment in Georgia is not automatically available for newcomers — even for someone with such an extensive network. To receive treatment, Maksim must apply for a residence permit or seek help from local NGOs. “But I don’t want to use that resource,” he said. “There are people who need it more than I do.”

‘I’m afraid I’ll be stoned.’

Georgia recorded its first HIV infection in 1989, and the number of cases grew throughout the 1990s and 2000s. “Labor migrants mostly brought it to Georgia from Russia, Ukraine, and Eastern Europe,” explained Nikoloz Chkhartishvili, the deputy director of the National AIDS and Immunology Center in Tbilisi. At the time, most cases were associated with intravenous drug use.

Nikoloz recalled that the Georgian government implemented intervention programs after independence to fight the spread of HIV/AIDS and received support from the WHO’s Global Fund starting in 2004. In 2018, Georgia transitioned to domestic funding and committed itself to making treatment available to everyone.

“[Today], there are some 8,000 HIV patients in the country in total, and 83 percent are known positives,” said Nikoloz. By comparison, there are upwards of 32,000 HIV-related deaths in Russia annually.

According to Nikoloz, his AIDS center has only received 50 requests from Russians with HIV since March. “In Georgia, citizens and residents can get free care, which includes ART drugs, clinical consultations, and lab tests. But that’s not the case for Russians coming to Georgia,” he told The Beet. “They can also get access to treatment, but it will cost them money.”

“Russians who come to Tbilisi have money, so it’s easier for them to get access to therapy: they can either buy generic drugs in pharmacies or order packages by mail directly from Russia,” he added.

Asked whether this year’s influx of Russians and Ukrainians would affect Georgia’s healthcare system, Nikoloz seemed worried. “There are no HIV screening programs for newcomers. People just come here, and that’s it,” he said.

Pedestrians cross the bridge in front of the House of Justice, a government building in Tbilisi, Georgia. July 2022.

TAKO ROBAKIDZE / BLOOMBERG / GETTY IMAGES

“The real problem is lack of diagnostics,” added Zhenya Zhukov, the founder of Emigration For Action, an NGO Russian emigres founded in Tbilisi to help Ukrainian refugees. “In Russia, many people don’t know they have the virus and need treatment.”

According to Nikolai Levshitz, who runs a popular informational Telegram channel for Russians in Georgia, anti-LGBTQ+ attitudes remain a significant barrier to accessing HIV services, including in healthcare settings. “There are strong homophobic sentiments in [Georgian] society,” he said.

For many in Georgia, the events of July 2021 are still fresh: far-right protesters attacked the headquarters of LGBTQ+ activists in Tbilisi, injuring more than 50 journalists and forcing the cancellation of a planned Pride march. One cameraman who was severely injured died, days later.

“I’m afraid, if I ask where the AIDS center is, I’ll be stoned,” said one of the interviewees in a study conducted by the Tbilisi-based Equality Movement on access to HIV/AIDS services for transgender people and immigrants in Georgia.

The language barrier has proven to be a challenge, as well. “We had several patients who needed HIV treatment,” Zhenya recalled. “We couldn’t find any local AIDS centers because most have websites written in Georgian. When I called the Healthcare Ministry and asked if they speak English, they said, ‘No!’ and hung up.”

* * *

Speaking at a press conference on October 31, Vladimir Putin said that Russia’s mobilization has ended, but he has yet to issue a corresponding decree. Chikov, the rights lawyer, said an official “demobilization” order probably isn’t in the cards.

“This regime is full of people without a drop of truth, logic, or consistency,” Maksim said when asked about the draft’s purported end. “I think it’s a PR move.”

Thanks for reading and see you next week!

To learn more about wartime emigration from Russia to Georgia, check out Alexandra Makharashvili’s photo report from the border during the early days of the mobilization and Gleb Golod’s March dispatch from Tbilisi. Until next time,

Eilish

#I really recommend subscribing to Meduza's The Beet #and to Meduza's daily digest as well

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josiebelladonna · 1 year

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i was just reading about the nevada test site and, being from southern california and north-central nevada, it was something that i always had knowledge of. i always knew it was there, everyone in carson city/reno knew it was there, i always knew that it... it is what it is (i mean, if the fact that nye county is literally the shape of a mushroom cloud doesn’t tip you off, i can’t help you). people flocked to vegas in the 50s just to see the clouds due north of the valley, for god’s sake. you know that stock footage that you see of the mushroom cloud going up and the house and the forest blowing over and then jerking back as the cloud rises? that’s from operation teapot. yucca flat is the most contaminated place in the continental u.s. from a radiological standpoint: it’s not chernobyl, for sure, but... you know. have lead linings, will travel.

but the one thing i cannot stop thinking about is the sheer amount of fallout from the blasts, specifically as it spread over to st. george in utah: by the way, i checked the map and sherman ranch is weirdly outside of the fallout zone. just for numbers’ sake: 1 rad is harmless (you might feel hot and see a blue light, but that’s about it) where 1000 rad is lethal. 100 - 200 rad is survivable: uintah county, home of sherman ranch, sustained less than 1 rad after the testing (and they’ve been witnessing paranormal activity since the 30s, before the manhattan project even got off the ground so-) but my point is that radioactivity is weirdly complex - just for perspective, it throws me sometimes, someone who’s intimate with nuclear science - especially when given the context of the rocky mountains, and especially when in junction with humanity and evolution. the type of fallout also needs to be accounted for as well, as most of the plutonium and uranium is centered in the ground at the test site: we’re talking iodine-131 and strontium-90, two isotopes that are not necessarily deadly, especially when you account for evolution and adaptation through generations.

i had a friend in high school who was born in blanding, on the eastern side of the state, a couple hundred miles from st. george, although she lived there for a long time. iirc, she was small in comparison to the rest of my friend group in my junior year of high school. what’s even more bizarre is i never really knew about it until after my graduation and i was stalking her page. i remember when the fukushima disaster happened and they were talking about iodine-131 flooding out from the reactor and how it could be potentially dangerous to those within the zone of the plant because we metabolize iodine through our thyroid gland (people who have thyroid issues often have iodized salt in their diets because of how it helps with that gland). i don’t remember kristen having thyroid issues but like i said, she was... small, about 5′ tall and 100 pounds soaking wet, and she was very thin (compared to me, 5′6″ and 165 pounds in my junior year when i met her, and i was relatively thin myself at the time). what makes strontium more sinister than iodine, in my humble more-or-less educated opinion, is it behaves like calcium and it’s absorbed into the bones: i saw her about a month ago before my facebook logout and she still looks very thin even though she’s 26 now. her hair’s different and she’s been wearing more eye makeup, but she still looks exactly the same as she did in 2009.

it’s disconcerting but it’s also interesting to think that you can come from a place with a high rate of horrible diseases - st. george and pretty much all of southern utah has an unsurprisingly massive cancer rate, especially of the thyroid, blood, and bone type - and yet somehow you can skip that and you can have a body that’s a lot stronger than it looks: she was a soccer player and she could run like it was nobody’s business. she looked frail but she was a firecracker, though.

when you read about this stuff, you almost immediately start deconstructing the fears around all things nuclear and you find out that said fear it mostly emanates from a lack of knowledge - just like everything else in existence. it’s not all gamma rays and glowing green: you have a whole set of units of measurement (with apologies to anyone tired of converting the american standards to the metric system). barrels of nuclear waste are nothing like the ones on the simpsons (if anything, they look like actual barrels, not like trash cans you see at the beach). some humans react to it better than others (marie curie’s notes are behind a 1-inch pane of glass lined with lead and yet she mostly walked out of the shed with nothing more than burns on her fingers, and she succumbed to anemia not radiation poisoning). if anything, it’s not green at all: the cherenkov effect is blue light, and radium glows a silvery-white.

when i was a freshman in high school, and i took earth science, my teacher brought in pitchblende, uranium ore: i’m not even kidding, it looked like just a regular old rock; little “bubbly” on top, but it looked like a rock straight out of her front yard. i remember she put a geiger counter next to it and it went off, it made that “staticky” noise (it wasn’t like crazy going off, but when you’re holding the counter yourself, it is... somewhat of a sobering moment to hear it). she put a piece of paper over it and the counter kept going; piece of tin foil and it stopped. i remember holding this thing, too: it was about the size of a deck of cards but it had some weight to it (uranium being a heavy metal among other things). it was one of those “oh my god, it’s real” moments, but it was cool, though: i actually held something that was radioactive in my bare hand. it wasn’t very radioactive - for perspective, she told us you could get more radiation from a microwave than you could that little stone but it made a geiger counter go off.

it makes me wonder like... what else the general public is refusing to learn, because this stuff is very fascinating, and it’s a lot closer to home than you think: in the nevada test site tag on here, i’ve come across a few accounts from people who have lived downwind from the site and it’s definitely sobering, especially when you realize that it’s literally right there, about four hours away from you (wind’s blowing the other way but still). on wikipedia, there’s a map of the fallout over the continental u.s. and while the west coast is pretty much spared, there’s this big plume extending from utah over to the plains states and into the great lakes - and yes, p r o f e s s o r, i checked all the links and the sources are credible. stop shaming people for using wikipedia, it’s a legit place to learn new things and fall down rabbit holes, and i think there should be no shame in using it.

again, you have to take measurements and the isotope types into account, but even though the government has been opaque about all things nuclear, it is imperative that we teach ourselves about it as well. our government has sucked for decades and it’s more than okay to be afraid - hell, i can’t visit the chernobyl tag without seeing a fucking meme about the elephant’s foot and immediately get the heebie-jeebies WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE - but knowledge is power, though, and with said power, the fear loses its grip, and you can better understand these things.

madame curie herself said it is imperative that we look into these things headlong for that reason.

also, i didn’t know this: apparently, in 1970, at yucca flat, when they were testing a bomb 900 feet underground, it cracked the soil and collapsed and the bomb was a dud as a result. but. it instead caught fire (as plutonium is pyrophoric) and shot up a bunch of smoke and ash for several minutes. something like 80 workers were exposed: two of them died... a few years after the fact. but everyone walked away from it. but some of the lighter particles blew into the higher latitudes and wound up inside a cold front and dropped irradiated snow on lassen and sierra counties. it was called “baneberry” although i feel it should’ve been called “operation whoopsie” (plus, when you read about this stuff, your sense of humor is going to darken and twist itself a bit. in terms of sense of humor, you have proctologists at the very top and right behind them are anybody who studies the human reproductive system, i.e. urologists and gynecologists, and then behind them are nuclear scientists. this shit is complex and painfully misunderstood and abused: you’re not only going to expand your mind and understand einstein’s fears and oppenheimer’s sobering moments but you’re going to learn to genuinely laugh once in a while. i mean, the fact the states had two nuclear tests named “little feller” and “nougat”-)

#i should be writing #i just wanted to share this #nuclear science #science nerd #long post #text

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spine-buster · 3 years

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Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒫𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒

gif credit @czarniks

CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. Please be warned.

Word Count: 2,899

A/N: Was I really going to name the epilogue any thing else?

* * * * *

Effie had been quiet lately. When Matthew said ‘quiet’, what he really meant to say was not all there, and when he said ‘not all there’ what he really meant to say was that she was there, with him physically, but her mind was somewhere else. She had these bouts from time to time. Effie was always going to be a work in progress, and that meant sometimes she’d regress instead. He knew that when he signed up to be with her ten years ago now. He knew that when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together seven years ago, and she said no. He knew that when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together six years ago and she said no. He knew that when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together five years ago and she said no. He knew that when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together four years ago and she said no. He knew thar when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together three years ago and she said yes. He knew that when they moved in to said house two years ago. Some bouts were long, some were short, but he always noticed them.

This was another one.

She usually came around. Well, actually, she almost always came around. She’d ask something or propose an idea and Matthew would learn or realize why she was so withdrawn, why she was so quiet. Sometimes they were simple, and a short bout: “I want to change the menu at the bakery.” Sometimes they were vastly more complex, and a long bout: “I know Chantal’s okay with me not having kids, but what about Keith?” She’d get stuck in her head a lot. And with someone with so much to learn, as someone who was quite literally going through life learning by doing, it was almost a guarantee this would happen, considering what she came from.

But Matthew was there. Always.

As he spooned her in bed, he could feel how distant she was. He could practically feel her mind racing and refusing to slow down despite it being late at night. Matthew placed a small kiss on her shoulder. “D’you want to talk about it?” he offered.

Effie turned around so she was now facing him. He could see the worried look in her eyes and started to worry himself. She took a deep breath. “Would you want to marry me?”

Matthew licked his lips, and without hesitation, he nodded his head. “Yes.”

Effie looked away, almost ashamed. “I had it in my head that you wouldn’t want to because I’ve been married before,” she whispered.

A regress. Inevitable. Effie’s mind was a complex ocean. “You were never married,” he said firmly. “But if you want to get married, I’d love to marry you. We could do it however you wanted.”

“What about our marriage?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’d get married, but what would our marriage be like?”

Bad memories, obviously. The last time she was a “wife” it wasn’t a marriage at all. It was practically a hostage situation. An abusive relationship. “Do you like our relationship how it is now?” Matthew asked.

Effie nodded her head. “I want it to stay like this,” she said.

“Then that’s what our marriage will be like, too,” Matthew assured her.

***

“I don’t know what type of ring I like,” Effie mumbled on the phone to Geneviève as she picked at her lunch, a poppyseed bagel she’d made with a generous spread of lox and cream cheese. Geneviève was in Sweden, like she was every summer, with Jacob and her twins. Though they’d be back in a few weeks for the season, Effie couldn’t hold off talking to her. She never really could.

“Why would that matter?” Geneviève asked.

“Matthew and I talked about getting married.”

There was silence on the other end of the call before Effie heard the dial tone. She thought the call dropped – it did that sometimes, especially when Geneviève was in Sweden – but then her phone was vibrating all over again, and it was a FaceTime request instead of a simple phone call. Effie couldn’t help but smile as she accepted the call.

“You and Matthew WHAT?!” Geneviève shrieked, holding the phone too close to her face.

“Um…yeah,” Effie nodded. “We talked about it a few nights ago in bed. I asked him if he would want to marry me and he said yes.”

“Effie, Matthew’s probably wanted to marry you since he told you how to pronounce tomahawk. What made you think he didn’t?” Geneviève asked.

Effie shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know…” she said. “I just—last time I was married, it wasn’t a good marriage.”

“You were never married,” Geneviève deadpanned. It was good to know she thought the same thing as Matthew. “But besides that—has Matthew been anything like him in these past ten years?”

Effie shook her head. “No way.”

“Then what makes you think he will when you’re married?”

Effie knew Geneviève was trying to make a point – and a good one – but Effie was, for some reason, still apprehensive. “He comes home soon,” she said. “I’m going to talk to him more about it.”

Geneviève nodded in understanding. “Just remember that you deserve happiness, however that comes to you,” she reminded Effie. “And remember, Effie – you can choose happiness, too. You can choose to overcome a fear and make yourself happy.”

***

Effie searched all about engagement rings until she heard the garage door open and Matthew step into the house. He’d been at the gym, and his own lox and cream cheese bagel was waiting for him in the fridge. “Hey,” he called out from the laundry room.

“Hi.”

“Whatcha up to?”

“Uh, looking at engagement rings.”

He was silent. Silent until he rounded the corner and Effie saw him emerge from the hallway that led to the laundry room, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. “Engagement rings, huh?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, adjusting herself in the bar stool. “There’s so many different styles.”

Matthew looked at her skeptically, dropping his gym bag before walking over to her. “There are…” he began. “But you should look at a style or styles you like, and then we can bring it to a jeweler.”

“A jeweler?”

“I’m not gonna get you just any ring, baby. It’s gonna be custom made,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Effie’s research told her that custom made rings were the most expensive types of rings. While there were so many pretty styles online, custom was definitely something to aspire to for many people, even thought it was out of reach. “You’d get me a custom ring?”

Matthew looked at her. Without saying a word, he leaned back into the barstool beside her but grabbed hers and scooted it closer to him. “Will you please talk to me?” he asked softly, but needily. “You know I’d get you a custom ring. You know I’m gonna let you get any dress you want and have whatever kind of wedding you want. You brought up marriage but the questions you’ve been asking me…Effie, it’s as if you think I don’t love you.”

“That’s not—no,” she shook her head, stuttering out her words. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I don’t mean it to be like that. I know you love me.”

“Then what’s with the questions?”

Effie took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with Matthew until she knew she had to talk. “This is what it was like last time.”

Matthew’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Abraham was nice before he abused me. He promised me so many things. And I know you’re not him—you’re nothing like him—and I’ve—I’ve told you that for ten years but—”

“—Effie, if this is too much for you, we don’t have to get married.”

Effie began shaking her head. And when she began shaking her head, tears started to well up in her eyes, and as they welled up, they fell down her cheeks. She tried wiping them away but Matthew beat her to it; she was so ashamed she couldn’t even look at him. “But everybody gets married. Look at Brady. And Taryn, even.”

“Effie…we’re already in a committed relationship that’s like a marriage anyway. I’m devoted to you, and you’re devoted to me…we—we live together, we act like we’re married anyway. If you don’t want to change that then you don’t have to.”

“Yes I do,” she stressed.

“Why?”

“I do because I want to do something for you. You’ve been doing things for me for ten years and I know you want this. I know you want to get married. So I want to give that to you because you’ve given me so much.”

“You giving me yourself is enough. You know that. You’re enough,” he said.

“I know,” she nodded. “But marriage is a celebration of love. It’s a celebration of love. And I want to celebrate our love. I just have to get it through my thick skull that marriage isn’t a punishment, it’s a celebration.”

Matthew nodded his head, giving her a quick kiss on the nose. “Want me to call Dr. Barlow? We can work on this together.”

Effie nodded.

***

Half a year later, Effie couldn’t stop staring at the rock on her finger. It glimmered in even the shittiest light. She was sure Matthew had something put in it to make it shine so much, but he kept denying it. Geneviève loved it. So did Jenna. So did Annica.

“But do you?” Matthew asked her.

She nodded. The second he slipped it on to her finger, everything became real. Everything. She’d never had an engagement ring before. She never had a testament to her partner’s love for her. And here it was now, on her finger, ready for her to wear for the rest of her life. Matthew gave it to her. Her Matthew. Nobody else but her Matthew.

***

“Oooooooh, Effie,” Chantal’s eyes lit up as Effie walked out of the fitting room of the small bridal boutique in St. Louis they went to on a whim. Taryn’s jaw dropped in quick succession as Effie walked out and stood on the platform in front of them, a three-panel mirror showing her every angle of the dress. She watched Chantal through the mirror. “Oh Effie, this is stunning.”

“Do you think Matthew will like it?” she asked.

“Matthew’s gonna bawl,” Taryn interjected, causing everyone to laugh. “I’m about to bawl!”

Effie looked at herself in the mirror, patting down the fronts of the dress, even though it fit her like a glove. Despite trying on some dresses already while out with Jenna and Geneviève, she didn’t get the same butterflies in her stomach as she did seeing herself in this dress, now, even though this wasn’t planned. It was the first one Effie chose for their consultant to pull but the last one of the three she tried on, and it was the most beautiful. She loved everything about it: the eyelet organza, the corset bodice with exposed boning, the A-line skirt with pockets.

The ivory.

The consultant puffed out the skirt for her, letting it fall behind her dramatically. Effie was quiet as she watched Taryn eye the consultant and say “We need a veil” before the consultant left them alone. Chantal was covering her mouth at the point, admiring the dress but also as a mechanism to stop herself from crying, probably. Effie pat down the front of the dress again, her heart beating in her chest. “Chantal?” her voice was small.

“Yes sweetie?”

“I can wear white, right?”

Chantal nodded automatically. So did Taryn. “Of course you can. You were never married,” Chantal said.

“Even if you had been,” Taryn piped in, “it’s your wedding. You can wear whatever you want.”

***

Matthew held Effie’s hand as they sat on a couch in Dr. Barlow’s office together, talking through Effie’s trepidations of marriage and expectations as a wife. Effie knew that the only reason why she was having trouble with all of this was because of her past experiences; when she thought about it, deep down, she wanted nothing more than to marry Matthew. But her mind was a funny thing – it always was – and that’s why they were here. Matthew had been patient in waiting for her to agree to buy a house and move in together; he’d been even more patient in not asking her to get married but letting her make the decision herself. Now it just all came down to this – the working through the nitty gritty things, the things that still plagued her mind – so she could go into the marriage in the healthiest way possible, just like their relationship was. And she was going to see it that way. It helped her immensely to see it that way. This is just an extension of our relationship. This is a celebration of our love.

“Have you given thought to any popular wedding or marriage traditions that the two of you would want to follow or not follow?” Dr. Barlow asked.

“Like what?” Matthew asked.

“Effie, will you be taking Matthew’s last name?”

Effie looked at Matthew before squeezing his hand quickly and nodding. “Yes,” she said confidently. “I’ll become Effie Tkachuk. I met this woman through hockey – her husband plays for the Toronto Maple Leafs – her name is Bee Rielly. She took her husband’s last name and she said the reason why she took it was because she had no connection to her maiden name, McTavish, because she had no real family and her mom was an alcoholic and it only really reminded her of that. Considering her background, she wanted it gone, and I feel the same way.”

Matthew squeezed her hand back. Dr. Barlow smiled and nodded her head. “It’s great that you’ve met someone like that, that can help you see these kinds of things in that perspective,” she said. “Are you having a church wedding?”

“No,” Matthew took this one. Even though he and his siblings went to Catholic schools, religion wasn’t a huge part of their lives. “Just an officiant. We actually already have her booked.”

Dr. Barlow nodded again. “Effie, how do you feel about the tradition of someone walking you down the aisle? Levi? Matthew’s dad, perhaps?”

Effie shook her head vehemently. “I love them, but no,” she said. “No way. I’m entering into a marriage freely and I’m making the decision. Nobody is giving me away.”

Matthew smiled. “And that’s that on that.”

***

The more that Effie planned, the more she got to experience what normal wedding planning was like. It was stressful, sure, but it wasn’t your-mom-telling-you-that-you-were-going-to-marry-a-55-year-old-when-you-were-fourteen-years-old type of stressful. It wasn’t an I-don’t-know-anything-about-being-a-wife-I’m-only-fourteen-years-old type of fearful. It actually wasn’t fearful at all. The more decisions she made about how she was going to marry Matthew, the more excited she became. Decisions about flowers, about table coverings, about décor, about music, about food. Her favourite was taste-testing cakes samples with Matthew. Every time they tasted something Matthew would always say, “It’s not as good as your cakes” to her.

Every. Single. Time.

***

Between family, friends, and teammates, there were about 130 people at the wedding. Effie wore her dress, tailored to perfection, and the veil – long and regal and cathedral length, because the only day it was socially acceptable to wear a veil that long was on your wedding day, and Effie was going to take full advantage of it. They did a first look and Matthew cried. He cried again when she walked down the aisle by herself.

When Effie stood holding hands with Matthew, reciting vows to each other, she thought about the past ten years. She thought about the person she was when she met him at Noah’s birthday party. She thought about their Starbucks meetings and him teaching her about corn dogs and candy and frappucinos. She thought about how different she was from then till now, and that though the past still affected her, and crept up on her from time to time, she had been strong back then, and was even stronger now, and that made her proud of herself in a way nobody else could understand. Not even Matthew. That she stood here with him, marrying him, making the choice to marry him, spoke volumes of her progression. It spoke volumes of the person she had been, the person she was now, and the person she was becoming. She was always a work in progress.

Matthew was there for it all. There to help her, there to guide her through it. There to help her achieve her dreams and expose to things she never thought possible. Lake Louise. Moraine Lake. The Bahamas. Europe. St. Louis. Confidence. Trust. Love.

“I love you,” he whispered to her when their vows were done, rubbing his thumb over the backs of her hands.

“I love you too,” she whispered back. Freely. Meaningfully. Deeply.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the officiant beamed.

For the first time in her life, Effie was married.

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blackinn-n · 3 years

Text

Blackinnon headcanons (because @marlymckitten’s lovely ones got me to write a bit again <3 go check on hers!!!!)

Yes. It’s sappy. But I love sappy Blackinnon. I can’t bear angst any longer so enjoy!

Sirius fell in love with her before she fell in love with him. Actually, he fell in love with Marlene before James fell in love with Lily, even if he took longer to realize it. He unconsciously developed a crush on her during their first year and recognize his messy feelings as love when he was a bit older. Anyway, he liked to say to her that he had loved her since he was a kid and Marlene used to roll her eyes and call him a sappy liar — but Sirius was not lying. Not even a bit.

I personally hc that they didn’t start dating at Hogwarts. Sirius was, emotionally, too much of a mess to actually sort out what he felt. It was not that he wasn’t sure of her — he knew he loved Marlene. He was certain of that. He was just scared to hurt her in any way possible, and though less of himself — he though he wasn’t able to make her happy, and he could not bear it.

It was Marlene who made the first move. One night, she just kissed him. They were alone in London, laughing, smoking and chatting at 1 AM while the rest of the gang had already went home. She just did it. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. Hard, passionately. It took him out of breath.

As their relationship became solid, it was clear to both of them that what was happening was that.. they were settling. To Sirius, the word has seem horrendous till she had told him what she felt for him. But he was happier that he had ever been with her and was actually pretty content with the perspective of being hers for the rest of his life.

They weren’t too much into PDA. Sirius resting a hand on her tights, or holding hands was ok — but they couldn’t stand couples who made out constantly while they were out with friends. It was totally different when they were drunk: in that occasions they could not take their hands off each other and used to disappear so as to shag in some bathroom or to go home (to shag. Yes, they did it nonstop)

They had a matching tattoo. They had gone out one evening in March, just the two of them. It was supposed to be a romantic dinner but it had naturally lead to a drunk night in some club in London. After that, they had found some weird (and probably too dirty to be trusted) tattoo shop which was still opened at night and decided to go for it. They were too tipsy to be taken seriously, but managed to explain to the tattooer what they wanted. At the end, Sirius got the written “star of the sky” in Marlene’s handwriting, and she had “star of the sea” in his, on their pelvis. It was sappy, they knew it, but it was them.

Marlene absolutely adored Sirius. She thought he was breathtaking. That’s true, a lot of people thought that — Sirius was indeed a very handsome man, but to Marlene, Sirius was much more than that. Marlene loved everything about him. She loved stroking his hair and caressing the side of his face. She loved when he took her hands into his. She loved kissing his full lips and holding his gaze, despite it made her blush most of the time. She loved feeling his weight on her when he fell asleep while cuddling. She loved feeling him inside of her, it made her feel a sense of fullness and connection she had never felt with someone before.

James was so happy when they got together. He wasn’t even the slightest angry or upset at them, though they knew he would have killed them both if they hurt each other.

Lily was ecstatic when they started dating, too. Perhaps even more than her husband, considering she was the first person Sirius admitted he was in love with Marlene to. It happened during their seventh year at Hogwarts. Lily was looking for Marls — she knew the Astronomy Tower was her and Sirius’ spot and expected to find her there, but only him was present that evening. They talked quite a lot and at one point he just slipped it out. It felt so scaring, but so, so good. Lily promised not to tell a soul, not even to James and Sirius trusted her. She also advised him to tell her, but he knew he needed more time.

He desired a family with her but was scared to bring the topic up — he didn’t really think he would have really been much of a father material with the upbringing he had. His worse nightmare was perhaps inflicting on his children the same pain he had had to endure during his childhood — the idea scared him shitless. But one day, they talked about it. They approached the subject shyly, as if having different perspectives would have risked to break what they had. When Sirius told her it would have be nice, to have kids one day, Marlene could not suppress the wide, genuine smile that appeared on her face. “You’d really want them?” “Yes. With you, I would want them. I think I would be a shit father, but with you to balance I think they’d turn up nice” “That’s bullshit. You will be a wonderful dad.” “I will be? Not “would”?” “Yep. You will. I think we should talk about it… having kids, one day.” Sirius had never been happier.

Marlene’s family was fond of Sirius. Her parents and brother especially. And of course Euphemia and Fleamont loved Marlene — she was James’ first friend ever. Euphemia confessed them once that she had been planning their wedding since fifth year (James laughed a bit to much for Marlene’s liking after hearing that).

Marlene once had called Walburga Black a “fucking cow”. She hadn’t just called her that, she had YELLED it on the platform before taking Sirius hand and making him follow her on the train. She had heard a sneaky comment from her: it was the usual babbling about Sirius being a shame, a failure for being how he was, for hanging out with dirty mudbloods and staying at the Potters. She could not take it. Although her mother (who had intercepted her daughter’s furious expression) had tried to stop her, she had just walked over and yelled at Walburga Black, a witch from a noble and ancient family in the Magical Community, that she was a fucking cow. Around lots, lots of people. Sirius thought he had never loved her more.

Once Sirius told her he wanted to shave his beard, and she screamed, horrified and threatened not to have sex with him for a month if he really did it.

For his 23rd birthday, Marlene gifted him a handful of Polaroids of her nudes, along with his real present. Sirius remained in total awe for a few seconds and then looked at her like a puppy who has received the best toy ever. He really was a simple man, not needing much to be happy.

Sirius couldn’t cook for shit. He could barely prepare a toast without burning something. And most of the time, when he was hungry, he forgot he could use magic. That meant he was not able to surprise her with breakfast in bed or some thing like that — okay, he knew how to make coffee or how to spread jam on bread, he was not that dumb. Anyway, Marlene used to tease him by saying he would starve if she refused to cook for the rest of his days. “I can always eat you, you know” “You are incredible, Black”

7th year’s St Valentine’s Day was perhaps the worst one Marlene had spent in her seventeen years on the Earth. Not that she had ever celebrated it (she hated St Valentine’s Day, the sappy promises, the fake couples who put on a good face during the trip to Hogsmeade so as to show off even if half school knew one of them was shagging someone else. She just couldn’t bear it), but that year every. single. one of her friends had a date. Lily went with James, Remus had gone to Hogsmeade with a bloke he had met in the summer, Alice went with Frank, Mary had been asked by a quite good looking boy who was part of the same club as hers, Emmeline and Dorcas went together (their first public trip after their coming out) and even Peter had managed to set up a date with a really nice girl he had had a crush on since fifth year. And Sirius… well, she supposed he was shagging three or four girls at the same time. Marlene spent most of her time in the library, catching up with her homework, and after a rather depressing lunch alone she hid herself in the Common Room who was occupied only by first and second years who could not go to the village yet. She read a book until she heard someone calling her name. She didn’t even had to turn around to know who it was. Nobody called her Lene. They walked through the empty corridors and corners of the school, perfectly comfortable with one another. He asked her what she had done that day, but she didn’t ask him back. She didn’t want to know if he had gone to Hogsmeade with someone. What she didn’t know was that, yes, he had gone to the village… to buy her flowers. They following morning, when she woke up, she found a beautiful bouquet of tulips — her favorites — of all colors. The was no card attached and it took Lily twenty minutes to convince Marlene that they really were for her.

Marlene’s dream had always been to visit Paris. When she was ten, she promised herself that she would only have gone with the love of her life — Marlene pretended to be nauseated by romance, but the truth was that she was a hopeless romantic herself. She kept the promise. One year or so into their relationship, Sirius and Marlene stayed in Paris for a week. One night they went to a bar and returned to the apartment quite intoxicated and extremely horny, so the usual. They shagged everywhere, on the couch, on the bed, on the floor, by the fucking window, not caring who could see them. Once they were finished, they were laying on the couch, naked, only covered by a thin blanket to protect them from the chilly air, their bodies entangled. She told him about her promise. He just looked at her, his eyes full of pure love. And he told her. And it was not scary, quite the contrary, actually. “I love you” he simply said. “I love you so much, Marls” She tried to reply, but her voice was thick with emotion. He understood anyway and gently kissed her, thinking he had finally found something worth living for. And it was love, it had always been love.

#blackinnon #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #marauders #marlene x sirius #sirius x marlene #harry potter #marauders era #blackinnon headcanons

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sleepysnk · 3 years

Text

bye i love Niccolo, that is all.

Crashing Tides

Pairings: Niccolo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none just fluff

"Niccolo wait up!"

"You're just slow! These waves aren't gonna surf themselves!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her surfboard off the wall it leaned on. The day was perfect, bright sun, warm air, not a cloud in the sky, and best of all, huge waves.

She ran towards the crashing waves, she noticed Niccolo was already hitting them.

"Come on (Y/N)! These waves aren't just for me!" he called.

She shook her head before running out to the water, she lied on her belly, paddling into the salty water which made her swimsuit stick to her skin.

Her eyes averted to the wave which approached her in the distance, it was pretty tall, but nothing she couldn't handle.

Just as the wave was about to hit she lifted herself onto her board, standing up and riding against the wave. The water splashed onto her legs, she looked at Niccolo who was smiling at her. Her cheeks grew hot seeing his smile, he was always so adorable.

Her eye grew wide as another wave approached and Niccolo wasn't paying attention.

"Niccolo!"

He turned, his face growing with shock and the wave knocked him off his board. (Y/N) jumped off hers and rushed over to him, she watched his board slide onto the beach.

She walked through the water which was up to her waist. "Niccolo?!" she yelled, looking around for him.

He was laying there limp.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as she swam over to his body, she shook his arm. "Niccolo?! Shit!" she lifted his head, trying to see if he hit a rock or something.

His eyes opened and he started laughing. "Your face was priceless!" he said before sitting up, his feet touching the floor.

She rolled her eyes, smacking his arm. "What's wrong with you?! You scared the shit out of me," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

He chuckled, "It isn't the first time you've saved me."

Her cheeks grew hot, "Whatever! Come on.. I'm hungry," she said, walking towards the sandy edge of the beach.

He followed after her and slung his arm over her shoulder. "Your dad probably has something good, please tell me he made the shrimp."

She grabbed her board off the ground, wiping any sandy residue off of it. "He always has shrimp for you," she giggled.

Niccolo grabbed his own board and jogged behind her. "Say less! Mr.(L/N) coming in clutch," he said excitedly.

Her eyes wandered to his face. Niccolo looked so good right now. His blonde hair was wet from the water, a few droplets dripped at the end and a few strands stuck to his face. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the bracelets around his wrist were damp, and that shell necklace around his neck pressed into his skin.

He's totally a man now.

"Hello? You got a staring problem," he flicked her head, making her wince.

She hit his arm, "Stop! Sorry.." she mumbled.

He furrowed his brows, "You sure? (Y/N) you know I'm always here to help you.." he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Tingles came from his touch. "I'm fine.. don't worry Niccolo," she replied, smiling at him.

The two made their way to (Y/N)'s beach house, her dad worked as a surfboard maker. He also was a great chef, he cooked when the people around town wanted to have a cookout or bbq.

"Hey dad!" (Y/N) called.

Her dad emerged from the kitchen. "Oh hey! Glad your back, I needed to speak with you."

His eyes averted to Niccolo. "Hey Mr.(L/N)" he said, smiling at him.

"Niccolo! Good to see you, and please you don't gotta call me that. Your family," he replied, putting his hand onto his shoulder.

(Y/N) sat at the table, her stomach growled. She had been out all day surfing that she forgot to eat, her dad always got on her case about it saying it wasn't healthy for her to just leave on an empty stomach. She never listened though.

"So what are you two looking for?" her dad asked, leaning against the counter.

"The usual! Your shrimp always hit the spot," Niccolo replied.

Her dad smiled, "Sounds good, I'll go and whip it up. You want any (Y/N)?" he asked.

"Yeah sure," she replied, swinging her feet a bit.

"You two can head upstairs, it may be awhile."

Niccolo and (Y/N) looked at each other before going up the stairs to her room. Her dad trusted Niccolo, he knew he would never do anything to his daughter.

Pictures hung on the walls of (Y/N) and her family, as well as pictures of her and Niccolo as children. It was crazy how much time has passed since then.

"I heard there's gonna be some sick waves in the next few days," Niccolo said, following her into her room.

She placed a towel down on her bed. "Really? That's lame, it should have happened before summer ended."

He chuckled a bit, "Right? But I mean, you're gonna be here anyway. We can always surf after school," he replied, shrugging.

She looked on her phone. "You're right."

He plopped down next to her, he grabbed the phone out of her hands. "Nah we aren't sitting on our phones, let's chat." he said, laughing a bit.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine! What do you wanna talk about?" she asked, nodding her head.

His cheeks grew pink, it made her brows furrow.

"W-Well.. since we're both really close, I was wondering if you-"

"Guys! Food is ready!"

She looked at Niccolo, "Keep going," she said, smiling a bit.

He shook his head, "Nah, let's go eat. It can wait," he replied, standing up and heading to her door.

She was puzzled but she didn't question it, but she did have one question.

Why was he blushing?

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Niccolo smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "For sure! Maybe you can beat me to the tide," he replied.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah whatever! Get out loser"

He put his hand over his chest dramatically. "Loser? Nah that's definitely you, but I'll see you tomorrow!" he said, exiting the front door of her house.

She shut it and smiled to herself. He was such a dork.

"(Y/N)? A word please?" her father called from the kitchen.

She nodded, heading to the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Have a seat," he replied, pointing at the chair in front of her.

She plopped down in the chair, her head cocking to the side wanting to know what her dad wanted to speak about.

"Your mom called"

Her eyes grew wide, she hadn't seen her mom in about a year or two. (Y/N)'s parents were divorced, they separated when she was 13, and the custody battle was absolute hell. In the end, she sided with her father and her mother wasn't the happiest. But if her daughter was happy, so was she. They spoke from time to time, but whenever she called her dad, it wasn't good.

"And? What did she want?" she asked, picking at her nails.

He sighed, "Your mom wants you to come home for the school year."

What?

"Wait.. what? Dad no, I don't wanna go with her. I'm already signed up for school here! It wouldn't make sense.. and what about Niccolo? I have zero friends where she lives," she said, her voice sounding upset.

Her father looked down, "I know sweetheart.. but with the custody battle I can't really say no. It's been awhile since you've seen her, I think it'll do you both some good."

She felt frustrated, why the hell did this have to happen now? The new school year was starting soon and she knew absolutely nobody where her mom lived. Her mom lived in the suburbs, almost three hours away.

"When is she coming to get me?" she asked.

He leaned back in his seat. "She'll be coming a week before the school year begins to pack up everything. I told her to give you more time, especially with Niccolo and all." he replied.

Her cheeks grew warm, her dad must have known about the way she felt towards Niccolo. It was almost blatantly obvious she liked her childhood best friend.

"Will I ever be able to visit or come home here?" she asked.

"Of course! Once the summer begins you'll come home here. Your mom and I both agreed on that," he said, putting his hand onto hers.

She breathed air out of her nose, she wasn't sure what else to say. She wanted to stay so bad, but she knew running from her mom wasn't a good idea and her dad would be pissed. She could tell her dad didn't want to send her away, but what else could he do?

"I'm gonna head upstairs.. night," she said before standing up and leaving the kitchen.

Her mind swirled around with different thoughts and questions. Who was she gonna be friends with? Would she even make friends? Would her mom make her stay? What about Niccolo? What was she going to do without him?

The thoughts alone made her stomach churn, she only had a week until her mom would come by to get her.

A week.

Seven days to spend with Niccolo.

She wanted to make it count.

The next day (Y/N) awoke to the sound of her dad's drill. He was probably making another surfboard or fixing one. He was always up early fixing things for people, it always woke her up too.

She looked out the window, seeing that the sky was overcast. She noticed the waves were a bit higher today and it was noticeably more windy than the previous days. Maybe today would be a good day to hit some waves with Niccolo.

Niccolo, shit.

How the hell was she supposed to tell Niccolo she was leaving?

Sighing, she rolled out of bed and made her way downstairs. The sound of the drill got louder as she approached the kitchen, her dad was outside in the backyard cutting up wood.

Her phone suddenly pinged, causing her to reach for it.

A message from Niccolo displayed on the screen.

Niccolo: the waves are calling to us (Y/N), you better get out here rn 👀

She smiled, typing a reply.

(Y/N): on my way! let me go tell my dad and get changed first

Niccolo: ooo getting changed? pls put on the pink one today 😐 you promised plus it looks nice on you

Her cheeks heated up from the message, Niccolo always complimented her whenever he could. Whether it be her trying on outfits or swimsuits, he was always her #1 fan.

She rolled her eyes before opening the back door, the warm humid air rushing onto her skin.

"Is it cool if I go surfing with Niccolo?" she asked, nodding her head.

Her dad looked up, "Yeah sure! Be careful though, those waves are pretty big today. I heard we're getting a storm later on," he replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

She nodded and stepped back inside, closing the door. She rushed up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit, she put on the pink one so Niccolo wouldn't be 'salty' about her not putting it on.

She finished up and rushed out the door to meet Niccolo at their usual spot. She grabbed her surfboard and made her way there, the wind was blowing around, it made the sticky air a little less bearable.

"Finally! I've been waiting forever!"

She smiled, seeing how dramatic he could act always made her grin. "Sorry! I was in a rush," she replied, looking up at him.

He slung his arm around her shoulder. "Nah don't worry sugar, I was just messing with ya" he said.

She giggled a bit, the nickname he gave her made her cheeks feel warm. Something Niccolo was always able to make her do.

"Wait did I offend you? Shit.. I'm sorry," he said, looking at her.

She blinked, "What? No! I'm fine don't worry Niccolo," she laughed.

His blonde hair blew over his eyes, "You just seem out of the ordinary, that's all."

"No I'm fine.. don't worry about it," she said. "Come on! Let's go hit these waves, shall we?"

He grabbed his surfboard and jogged after her, she noticed the red flag blowing in the wind. It meant that people should stay out of the water, but Niccolo and (Y/N) never paid much attention. Nobody was there to stop them.

Stepping into the water, goosebumps formed onto her skin. It felt cold around her ankles, she lied down on her board and began to paddle in the water.

"I'm gonna ride all these waves and you're not gonna know what hit you," Niccolo said, paddling next to her.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah okay! Try me," she smirked.

"Oh you already know I will."

She felt flustered, her eyes averted forward at the wave approaching in the distance. It had to be at least eight feet tall. Nothing she couldn't handle of course.

Seeing the wave getting closer, she stood up, balancing her weight on the board. The water splashed around her legs, soaking her swimsuit and making her shiver a bit. She looked over at Niccolo who was riding along the tide.

Her mind began to wander to her going with her mom, disappointment ran through her as the thoughts invaded her head. It made her upset, frustrated, sad.

"(Y/N)! There's a big one coming!" Niccolo called, looking towards her.

She looked back seeing the giant wave approaching, it had to be bigger than the last one. At least twelve feet high.

"I got this!" she yelled, hopping off her board and lying down on the base.

Niccolo didn't like how big the wave was, she's never rode big waves before and he sure as hell knew it wasn't a good idea. He paddled back to the beach, watching her in the distance.

"(Y/N)! Get back! It's too big!" he yelled.

She ignored him, she wanted to go all out. She had to show Niccolo what she could do before she left.

Standing up as the wave came up to her, she felt her feet slip and she fell into the water.

"Shit!"

Niccolo ran into the water, the wave crashed into the beach almost knocking him back. He saw her surfboard floating in the water heading towards the shore, it made him worried not seeing her on it.

"(Y/N)!" he yelled.

No response.

He saw her struggling in the water, it was deeper once you got further from the shore. She couldn't exactly stand in the water beyond the halfway point.

He lifted her up, her arms going around his neck. "Shit! Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her.

She coughed, spitting out the water that was in her mouth. "Yeah.."

Niccolo made his way back to shore with her around him. His grip on her waist was tight.

"Why the hell did you do that? You could have drowned," he said, placing her onto the ground.

She looked down at the ground. "It's nothing.." she replied. "I'll just go back inside."

She turned to grab her board, when suddenly Niccolo's hand went around her arm.

"No seriously.. what the fuck is going on with you? Something is clearly bothering you and I'm not leaving until you tell me," he said.

She sighed, dropping her board onto the sand. Her gaze averted towards the ground. "Niccolo.. my mom is making me come live with her during the school year. She called my dad and I'm leaving next week," she replied.

His eyes softened, "What? For real? Why? I thought she was fine with you staying with him," he said.

She sighed, "I guess she wants me home for a bit, but he did say during the summer I'm coming back." she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Her gaze veered to the darkening clouds in the distance, she could faintly see the lightning flashing and the wind picking up.

"Well.. I guess we're gonna have to make it worth it," Niccolo said, smiling.

She furrowed her brows, "What do you mean?"

He chuckled, "We're going to make the last few days you're here fun, okay? You're my best friend (Y/N)... you deserve a good time before you go," he said, brushing his hand along her arm.

She felt tingles along her skin. "Well, I guess you're right. Plus I don't want to spend it all lonely," she giggled.

"Exactly! Now let's go chill! It's gonna storm anyway," he replied, taking her hand into his.

The rest of the day was so much fun. (Y/N) and Niccolo did so many things together, from making cookies, to (Y/N) doing his hair, watching movies, they had a blast together.

It was now night, the wind howled outside from the storm. Rain pounded against the roof and windows, it was quite late and (Y/N) wasn't sure how she'd get home.

"It's really coming down out there," Niccolo said, looking out the window.

Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the shoreline. The waves crashed onto the shore.

"I need to get back somehow," she said, looking at her phone.

Niccolo looked back at her. "Are you sure you want to? (Y/N) it's really bad out there," he said with concern in his voice.

She wasn't sure how to respond, her dad was cool with Niccolo, but if she stayed overnight would he be pissed? Her dad never trusted any guy besides Niccolo around her.

She decided to send a text to her dad.

(Y/N): hey uh.. idk if i can get back, it's really shitty outside.

Within seconds the grey bubbles popped up.

Dad: No worries. Niccolo's mom knows you're there, you can spend the night. I rather not have you coming out in the middle of a storm. Stay safe. I love you. No funny business either.

She looked over at him. "Well look's like my dad is fine with me spending the night," she said, grinning at him.

Niccolo seemed surprised, but nonetheless he was excited. "Alright bet! You wanna head upstairs? We can chill and do whatever," he asked.

She nodded, "I'd love that."

She followed him up the stairs to his room, she remembered this room all too well. Her and Niccolo spent so many days and nights together in there, even now as a teenager she still felt that nostalgia from it.

"I don't have any clothes.." she muttered to herself.

Niccolo turned back, "Oh, here! Put this on," he said, searching through his drawers for a shirt and shorts for her to wear.

He tossed her a grey shirt and some black shorts. "Thanks.." she said, smiling at him.

He felt his stomach do flips at the sight of her smile. "Yeah no problem.. it's not like you've never borrowed my stuff before," he replied, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

She felt her cheeks growing hot again, curse this boy and what he does to her. Exiting the room, she found herself in his bathroom. She peeled off the swimsuit which was damp from the surfing they did together, she threw on his shirt and shorts and tossed the swimsuit near the edge of the bathtub to dry.

Niccolo laid on his bed, staring at the screen of his phone. His eyes veered to the door where (Y/N) stood, his eyes taking in the sight of her in his clothes. It was something he liked, she was always so cute to him.

"You wanna come lay down?" he asked, patting the side of his bed.

She smiled, "Of course!"

She climbed onto his bed, her head lying against the pillows. Niccolo's face dusted pink, they hadn't been this close in a bed since they were kids.

"So uh.. you ready to move?" he asked, trying to ease the nervousness.

She sighed, "Not really.. I don't know anyone where my mom lives," she replied.

He chuckled a bit, "I'm always going to be here for you, don't be afraid to send me a text during class. You already know I'll respond, especially if it's you."

Her heart swelled, "Please! I'll need it," she giggled.

He smiled, opening his arms for her. "I'll need plenty of hugs."

She giggled and leaned into his embrace, she felt his warmth surrounding her. It felt.. good. It wasn't weird for the two to be like this, she had spent many nights in his embrace when things got hard with her parents. Niccolo was always the one to comfort her and he had no issue with that, whenever she needed him, he was there.

Her eyes felt heavy and eventually the two dozed off into a deep sleep.

The next six days were absolutely enjoyable. (Y/N) and Niccolo spent every single day together, whether it be surfing or simply spending time at their houses, they made the last few days together memorable. They took many photos and polaroids together.

Here they sat by the shore, watching the moon rise in the distance. The sun was now gone behind the clouds, the sky was painted with dark hues of blue and black.

(Y/N) wore his sweater, they just finished surfing not too long ago. Her hair was slightly damp.

"Can't believe this is really it.." Niccolo said, looking towards her.

She lied her head onto his shoulder. "It isn't forever Niccolo.. we have facetime and texting," she said.

"I know.. it's just so hard to believe my best friend won't be here for nine months," he replied.

She sighed, "It is hard to believe but.. I'll be home soon."

Her eyes looked at the moon in the horizon, the tide slowly came towards the shoreline, making the sand wet. The atmosphere was relaxing, the air was salty and warm, the tide was calm, and the moon was out without a cloud in the sky. It lit up the ocean before her.

She couldn't help but reminisce. She spent her whole life here, she loved the beach. She spent her whole life with Niccolo, he was so important to her.

Niccolo was her first friend, they met when they were toddlers. (Y/N)'s family was very close to Niccolo's, they would have sleepovers, celebrate birthdays, make sandcastles, and swim until the sun set.

Most importantly, Niccolo was the one who taught her how to surf. She remembered all the times she would see him hitting the waves, and she wanted to be just like him. Even as a little kid she had a desire to show him that she could do it.

There were many fails and tears of frustration shed, but eventually she did it. Niccolo was so happy to see her ride her first wave, he felt so proud.

There was good moments, but there were also bad ones. When her parents would fight until all hours of the night she found herself running to Niccolo almost every night. She spent many nights crying into his shoulder, in which he would comfort her.

It felt so long ago.

When she turned fourteen, that's when she found her feelings towards Niccolo were more than just being best friends. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say she loved him, her feelings never fizzled out and she always found herself being pulled back into him.

He could never know though, she didn't want him to freak out.

A sudden ping brought her out of her thoughts. She grabbed her phone and noticed the text from her dad.

"Gotta go?" Niccolo asked, looking at her phone screen.

She sighed, "Yeah.. it's late anyway," she replied.

She stood up with Niccolo, she dusted off any sand that was on her shorts.

"Wait."

She looked at Niccolo, cocking her head to the side. "What's up?" she asked.

Even in the darkness she could see his face turning pink. "I-I.. I've wanted to tell you this for such a long time, with you leaving.. I figured it'd be a good time to tell you," he replied.

She blinked, "What is it?"

"(Y/N).. I-I.. really, really, like you. Like.. I can't even explain what you do to me, you're so beautiful and having you as my best friend has been an absolute blessing. I like you so fucking much," he said.

Her eyes grew wide, hearing his confession made her heart swell and her cheeks heat up.

"Niccolo.. I-"

"I get it if you don't feel the same," he said, holding her hand. "I just... I can't get over you."

She smiled, "No Niccolo, I like you too. I like you more than a best friend," she replied.

He seemed surprised, "What? No, you're lying! You don't at all-"

"Niccolo shut up"

That's when her lips pressed onto his, at first he didn't move, but then he began to kiss her back. His hands found their way to her waist, bringing her body against his own. She put her arms around his neck, tugging at the blonde strands of his hair.

The kiss they shared was passionate, it was full of love and emotion from the hidden feelings they've had for so long.

They stood there for awhile, just kissing each other and embracing their skin.

He broke the kiss, hearing her phone. "Shit.."

She looked at her phone seeing another text from her dad.

Dad: Where are you?? Come home please

She sighed, "I gotta get going," she said, looking up at Niccolo.

He cupped her cheek, "Let me walk you home, for the last time." he said.

She smiled, taking his hand and walking with him to her house. She felt her heart tug a bit, realizing this was going to be the last time he'll walk her home for a long time.

She stood in front of the door. "I guess I'll see you next summer," she said, looking up at him.

He smiled, "I guess so.. but, just know I'll be waiting for you, (Y/N). That will never change," he replied.

He kissed her lips one last time. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight"

The next nine months were difficult, but manageable for (Y/N). She was home sick for a long time, she had to get used to a new environment and she had to make some new friends in the process. It was hard, but she did manage. Niccolo kept her going, he assured her summer would arrive soon and it'll all be over.

He was right.

It was now the end of May, she graduated from high school and it was now summer break. She was excited to come home to her dad, they didn't have a lot of time to speak, but he was happy to have her back home.

Stepping into the house she hadn't seen since August, she was greeted with her dad.

"Welcome back!" he said, hugging her.

She smiled, "Hey dad.. uh, mom told me to say bye," she replied, looking around her home.

He nodded, "Alright.. well, I made some changes to the house. I don't have to work outside anymore," he said.

She shook her head, "Well that's good."

He looked at her, "Niccolo has been looking for you. He stopped by earlier, you should go see him. I'm sure you both are eager to see one another," he said.

She felt a smile grow onto her face. "I should go see him.. I'll be back soon!" she said, opening the door to her house.

"Be safe!" her dad called.

She smiled before exiting her house. She missed the warm salty air, it had been so long since she had seen the ocean. That's not the part she missed the most though, it was Niccolo who she wanted to see the most.

She made her way to the shore, she knew she would probably find him there.

Niccolo sat on the sand, he stared at the ocean before him. The waves crashed onto the shoreline near his feet, his mind wandering to (Y/N) and where she was. He missed her dearly, he just wanted to see her.

"The ocean is a really great sight, huh?"

He turned his head to see (Y/N) standing there. "(Y/N)!" he yelled, standing up and hugging her tightly.

She almost fell to the ground. "Hi baby," she said with excitement in her a voice. A smile on her features.

He kissed her, God did he miss her lips. "It's so good to see you again," he cupped her cheek. "We need to catch up."

She smiled, running her fingers through her hair. "We have all day handsome," she replied.

He lifted her off the ground, a yelp escaping her mouth. "You best have a fresh pair of clothes," he smirked.

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot imagines #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #snk imagines #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #niccolo aot #niccolo x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic #i loved this ok

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bakusdumptruck · 3 years

Text

Bakusquad Crack Post Pt.2

Hello you beautiful bitches 😌 hope you had a good day today! I was stuck on what I was going to write and decided to make a side story on what happened with the LoV in the first part! So now i’ll give you high bakusquad ft. The LoV🤩

Pairing: Aged up Bakusquad x gn!Y/n x LoV

Warnings: Use of marijuana, swearing, injuries, slight manga spoilers

Summary: Bakusquad gets kidnapped by the Lov, but it turns out better than expected.

✨QUICK RECAP ✨

You and the Bakusquad were v e r y faded chilling on a hill watching the stars

A nomu pops out of no where and you all start attacking, but completely miss

The nomu starts chasing you and ends up knocking everyone out

OKAY NOW LETS GET IT 😈

So... you got kidnapped by the infamous League of Villains

B💥: *waking up* “Fucking shit what hap- oh shit hey crusty 😏 never thought i’d be here again.”

ST(Shiggy)🧴: “Never thought you’d be this easy to catch you little bitch”

B💥: “WHO YOU CALLIN A LITTLE BITCH YOU FLAKEY FU-”

Y/n🥵: *evil/scary ass voice* “Bakugou if you don’t shut the fuck up right now i’ll let his flakey ass disintegrate you. You’re beING TOO FUCKING LOUD 😃🔪”

B💥: “uh... where’d you get that knife from :D”

K💪🏼: “Hey guys, sorry to ruin your moment but shouldn’t we be concerned that we got kidnapped.”

M💅🏽: “I agree... We literally got kidnapped by the people who want to kill us.”

S🕷: “Oh shit, that’s who they are? No wonder they looked so familiar.”

All: 👁👄👁

ST🧴: “Ya’ll are dumber than I expected... anyway we want you guys to join us. You all have powerful quirks, especially you Baku-”

B💥: “YAWWNNNN. No thank you. I already said no.”

ST🧴: “Did you just s a y the word yawn 🙃 *scratching neck* You’re pissing me off. I’ll just kill you then.”

S🕷: “Hold on mr.saltine, before you kill bakubro can we smoke our last joint? This weed was expensive and I AM NOT letting it go to waste. Plus I have even more and it needs to be gone before I die.”

M💅🏽: “Sero please tell me you didn’t bring your stoner pack.”

S🕷: *pulls out his so called “Seros Super Stoner Pack”*

Shiggy’s starting to regret his life choices.

All of a sudden Dabi pops out of no where

DB🔥: “Is that weed? I smell weed. Where is it.”

Sero had the most amazing idea, but not for them to escape no, he has had the most amazing idea to make sure he finishes his weed.

S🕷: “...Wanna smoke with us 👀 I already rolled a joint and I can roll at least 4 more. Don’t wanna let it all go to waste 😃”

DB🔥: “Let them out of the cuffs. I need to smoke.”

At this point Shigaraki is over everything and decides to smoke to distract himself from the stupidity.

So, ya know, Sero does his thing and hands yall the other papers to roll up

*30 minutes and 5 joints later...*

DB🔥: “NO BUT LIKE ENDEAVOR IS A FUCKING B I T C H. HE CAN KISS MY BURNT ASS.”

This smoke session somehow turned into a therapy session.

DB🔥: “I KNOW HE’S MY DAD BUT HOLY SHIT. FUCKER PUSHED ME INTO FAKING MY OWN FUCKING DEATH AND NOW HERE I AM. IM BURNT, MUSTY, AND STUCK WITH THIS CRUSTY ASS BITCH.”

Y/n🥵: *patting his back* “There there, let it out... uhuh just like that”

DB🔥: “I CAN’T EVEN FUCKING CRY. MY TEAR DUCTS ARE BURNT AND I FEEL DUMB AS FUCK CRYING WITH NO TEARS. I LOOK FUCKING CONSTIPATED.”

ST🧴: “Bitch please, you look constipated all the time.”

DB🔥: “Square the fuck up. 😃 Right now.”

D⚡️: “So... we just gon ignore the fact that he’s Endeavors “dead” son?”

Eventually Dabi lets everything off of his chest and goes off pouting in your arms

To lighten up the mood Sero connects his phone to his speaker and picks whatever song came up first

It was WAP by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.

Denki was the first one to get up and starts to rap the first verse. He knew it word for word.

Sero joined in after but also started dancing

Mans was MOVING them hips. Them shits were swaying like it was nobody’s business 💅🏽

WAIT SO HEAR ME OUT, I feel like Bakugou would be a completely different person when he’s high

Yeah he’s still angry and shit but he’d be sooooo fucking funny

This bitch would get up all of a sudden and be like

B💥: “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG FUCKER. THIS IS HOW YOU FUCKING MOVE”

Then he starts aggressively twerking anyway he can 😭

He’s twerking on the wall, on the floor, ON PEOPLE

You all eventually form a circle around him and start hyping him up

LMAOO ITS LIKE THAT DANCE CIRCLE AT SCHOOL DANCES AND EVERYONE HAS THEIR PHONE OUT

Y/n🥵: “BEST FRIEND SHOW EM YOUR MOVES”

K:💪🏼: “GO, OUUU YUH GET IT I GUESS 💅🏽... OKAY IM NEXT BEST FRIEND. GET THE CAMERA 🤩”

KIRI FUCKING PUSHES HIM OUT

K💪🏼: “dougie 🤪 hype me up 😤🥵”

He does it REALLY bad, but that’s not gonna stop the hype

ST🧴: “AHAHAHA WHY HE MOVIN LIKE THAT. MANS STIFF AS FUCK”

M💅🏽: “Like you can do any better than that 😗”

ST🧴: “Baby please, watch this”

Shiggy starts voguing... and he’s really fucking good.

All: “💀”

DB🔥: “HOLY SHIT THIS IS FUCKING GOLD . YO GUYS GET THE FUCK OUT YOUR ROOMS. Hehe he’s gonna regret doing this. ”

The rest of the LoV members come out and are shocked

They don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or be disgusted

TG🔪: “Dabi... is he okay, wait a minute... wHEN DID THEY GET HERE”

SP🐊: “...I’m going back to my room.”

TW👺: “OUU YUH SHIGGY. GET IT BITCH- this is so fucking disgusting.”

Mr.Compress and Kurogiri don’t even bother to see whats happening

Once the most iconic part of the song pops up YOU AND MINA GO OFF.

M💅🏽: “OUT OF THE WAY BITCHES. ITS THE BADDIES TURN.”

Holy fuck can y/n and Mina marry me already. p l e a s e.

Yall hitting every beat, every move, THE ATTITUDE. Yes. A+. 1000/10

Everyone was screaming their asses off and jumping around

After WAP, Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low played

DB🔥: “OHHH SHIT ITS MY TIME WHORES”

Dabi pulls out a guitar and amp out of thin air and plays his fucking heart out.

Bakugou finds drums and plays like theres no tomorrow

Sero finds a bass and joins in

Y/n🥵: “What the fuck 😃 why is this so good 😃”

The rest of you starts head banging and singing along

K💪🏼: “TAKE A BREATH DONT IT SOUND SO EASY, NEVER HAD A DOUBT NOW IM GOING CRAZY WATCHING FROM THE FLOOR”

M💅🏽: “waYMENT- I THOUGHT HE COULDN’T SING. WHERE DID THAT COME FROM 😳”

Denki adds harmony to the next part

K💪🏼D⚡️: “TAKE A BREATH AND LET THE REST COME EASY, NEVER SETTLE DOWN CAUSE THE CASH FLOW LEAVES ME. ALWAYS, WANTING MORE”

Y/n🥵: “DENKI YOU TOO??? I’m going to pass away. This is too muCH. I’M GOING TO SIMP PLEASE.”

Oop, the best part’s coming up... who’s singing next?👀

DB🔥: “IT WAS NEVER A PHASE MOM. ITS A LIFE STYLE- CAUSE I GOT YOUR PICTURE IM COMING WITH YOU DEAR MARIA COUNT ME IN THERES A STORY AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS BOTTLE AND IM THE PEN.”

That shit was chefs fucking kiss. Dabi has the perfect voice for this song.

At this point you, Mina, and Shiggy were on the floor with tears streaming down your faces.

When yall thought it couldn’t get any better, Bakugou and Sero start harmonizing for the last part 💅🏽

B💥S🕷: MAKE IT COUNt WHEN IM THE ONE WHOS SELLING YOU OUT CAUSE IT FEELS LIKE STEALING HEARTS CALLING YOUR NAME FROM THE CROWD”

Dead. You flat lined. Your limit has been passed and now you’re a hard core simp.

Mina was so glad she started recording because there definitely won’t be another opportunity.

Y/n🥵: “Guys... WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. HOW CAN YOU PULL INSTRUMENTS OUT OF YOUR ASSES AND PLAY PERFECTLY. KIRI WHERE THE HELL DID THE VOICE COME FROM.”

The boys were sweating and out of breath. They just did a whole performance in the hide out with zero practice.

They stared at each other at the end for a little bit and excitedly hyped themselves up.

Dabi spoke about starting a band forgetting about his occupation and why the bakusquad was there in the first place

Honestly this moment was precious. The villains and aspiring hero’s were getting along because of the weed in their system. This just proves how weed can solve all your problems 💅🏽

*knock knock* “Doordash delivery”

ST🧴: “Oh, when did you guys order food?”

S🕷: “We didn’t order food...”

ST🧴: “... FUCKING SHIT NOT AGA-”

The pro hero’s busted in 🤩

DB🔥: “KUROGIRIIII. GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.”

And just like the the LoV escaped

M💅🏽: “Ya kno what, I honestly forgot where we were.”

B💥: “Same.”

K💪🏼: “We were having too much fun...”

D⚡️: “Ughhh why’d they come so early 😫 we were boutta start a band 🥺”

S🕷: “Wait... why were we here again??”

Y/n🥵: “Sero...baby, maybe you should lay off the weed for a bit 💀”

Aizawa walked in and shot his scarf out to all of you. He made sure to make them uncomfortably tight and pulled you guys right to him.

A🐱: 👺👹*gremlin noises*👺👹

Lol you guys are fucked.

HELLOOOOO I hope you guys enjoyed this story of what went on when the squad got kidnapped!! Honestly my account is gonna have ALOT of bakusquad scenarios since I literally love all of them so much. Not a day goes by where I’m not thinking about hanging out with them 😭 Credits to jazzmonster for the gif 😌 once I saw it I knew I had to use it. Anywayy thank you all so much for the support :’-) I didn’t think people would actually like the stuff I write since its all over the place 😫 Hope you have a good rest of your day/night 🖤

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

baby, kiss it better - m. tkachuk

I saw a 13-minute video last night just called “the Tkachuk brothers annoying people” and immediately got an idea. Two and a half hours later, this was the result. Title is from cardigan off of Taylor Swift’s masterful new album folklore. Listen if you haven’t, and let me know what you think of this (and the album!)

——

You glanced up at the arena clock. 4:12 left in the first intermission. Taryn rubbed your shoulder lightly, catching your attention. “You good? You’re looking a little on edge.”

You blinked a few times, shooting her a tight smile. “Yeah. It’s good, I’m good. Just a little tired, nervous since the team’s down.” The score was 0-2, Vancouver having gotten in two early goals that the Flames hadn’t been able to catch up to.

“There’s still 40 minutes of play,” she said, shrugging, “so don’t get too worked up. Weirder things have happened.”

This smile was a genuine one. “Fair.”

Chantal shuffled back into her seat, precariously balancing two trays of food in her left hand while trying to hold her phone in her right. “Hot dog for Taryn, and nachos for you, love,” she said, passing the chips over.

“Thanks, mom,” you said. You and Matthew had been married for just under two years, but it still never ceased to amaze you how welcoming his family had been, straight from the start. It had never been a question of if you’d “fit in” or not with them; you were treated like a second daughter from the moment Matty brought you home to St. Louis. His mom was beyond grateful her son had finally found someone to tamp down his attitude, Brady loved having another person on his side when he’d chirp his brother, and Taryn was excited to finally have another girl around the house. You loved your own parents, but being grafted so easily onto the Tkachuk family tree was something unexpected but so, so welcome nonetheless.

It had become something of an annual tradition to have them fly in for a week or so at least once during the season, usually at some point between Matthew’s birthday in December and your own in March. Keith was tied up with something back in Missouri, so he had sent his regrets and his wife and daughter on a plane to Calgary in his stead. They stayed in one of the spare rooms in the house you and Matthew had bought just before the wedding, a gorgeous slate gray four-bedroom on the edge of the city. It had an enormous yard that was practically begging for a dog, so you had dragged Matty to the animal shelter right after returning from your honeymoon in the Seychelles. Cocoa was the other love of your life, an exceedingly friendly lab mix whose chocolate brown eyes had captured you the moment you saw her.

But Chantal really had turned into your second mom, even outside of your relationship with Matthew. You hung out with her and Taryn on your own accord during the off-season, and on more than one occasion Matty had walked into your bedroom only to see you on FaceTime with his mom.

“It’s nothing,” she said, waving you off. “I know how you feel about cheese.” It’s true, you had an ongoing love affair with cheese.

You bent down, taking a sip of water before replying to a text, slipping your phone back into your jeans pocket. You had never been the type of person to check your phone during games, even when Matty wasn’t on a shift. You were his wife, sure, but you were a hockey fan before you ever met and would rather step on a Lego barefoot than miss a single second of the action. The referee dropped the puck at center ice and the second period began.

Midway through the period, they had cut the Canucks lead by half, Lindholm sneaking a wrap-around goal in the fourth minute, but were still trailing by one. The frustration was beginning to show. Chirps were being thrown more freely, hits got a little dirtier, and more than a few sticks had been banged against the wall in frustration on the home bench. Which is why it wasn’t particularly surprising when Matty dropped the gloves after a decidedly nasty cross-check on one of their rookies.

Matty got into fights. It’s what he did, he was an enforcer; you knew that when you met him, starry-eyed and 21 and about to finish college. Even with the league’s increasingly restrictive rules on fighting, he always found a way around them. And if he couldn’t find a way around them, he just broke them. There was a reason he led the team by a mile in penalty minutes. You had long since accepted that some nights your husband would come home bruised and battered, a little worse for wear. It was the part he played on the team, and since he had been named captain after Giordano’s retirement, he felt a newfound responsibility to look after his team even more than before. Especially the new players, and especially the rookies. He remembered the feeling of being lost in a new city, in a country that wasn’t his own, with next to nobody that he actually knew. Nobody fucked with his boys, not on his watch.

Like the rest of the thousands of fans, you watched the fight. You were invested. You played with the hem of your jersey, the same one Matty had given you for your first anniversary when you were dating. You were as proud as anyone wearing it to games back then, and the sentiment hadn’t changed after more than three years. All that was different was that you were wearing a jersey that had your last name on it too.

Fights rarely made you nervous anymore. Hockey was a rough game, and fighting was a part of it. Everyone knew Matty could hold his own, and despite his devil-may-care attitude, he was usually good about not picking fights he didn’t think he could win. But all of the bets were off as soon as the gloves were thrown and the fists went flying.

For the first few seconds, it seemed like Matty had the upper hand; he had grabbed a hold of the other player’s collar and had managed to land a few well-placed punches, but his lead was short-lived. He lost his footing for just a moment, but the Canucks player saw an opening and moved in, landing hooks and uppercuts and jabs that Matthew barely missed. The linesmen tried to move in, break up the pair, but they shook them off. Matty tried to land a punch with his left hand, but he missed his face and hit the helmet. The close-up on the screen broadcast his wince for the whole crowd to see. You felt a pang in your heart. As much as you understood that this was his job, this is what he was meant to be doing, it never got any easier. He tried to take a jab with his bad hand, an ill-advised decision that led to him cursing not-so-under-his-breath. The Canucks player missed one, harmlessly hitting the air above his head as Matty ducked. Then he just barely grazed his neck.

And then he didn’t miss one, his fist leveling with Matty’s cheek. He lost balance, his skates coming out from under him as he fell to the ice, first his shoulder, then his head. You thanked God that he hadn’t been so stupid as to take off his helmet, but you didn’t like how he landed on his hand and how slowly he was getting up. The athletic trainer jogged out on the ice, kneeling next to your husband as your hand shot out to the chair on your left, fingers interlacing with Taryn’s as you held your breath, waiting for him to get up. And he got up a minute or two later, but there was blood and gauze and he had to be supported on both sides, gingerly skating off the ice and going straight to the dressing room.

You tried to steady your breathing, reminding yourself that injuries happened all the time in sports, that half the time they weren’t nearly as bad as they looked, and that Matthew was one of the toughest people you knew and he would fight tooth and nail to get back out onto the ice barring anything extreme.

Play continued for a few minutes. You broke your “no-phone” vow and pulled it out, flipping it over and over in your hands as you glanced down at the home screen, waiting for a text to come through. He knew to call you if it was something serious, or to get someone else to contact you, but leaving you hanging wasn’t something he was known for. At the next break in the action, an icing call against Vancouver, the PA system crackled to life. “Number 19, forward Matthew Tkachuk, will not be returning to the game following an assessment by the team’s medical and athletic training staff.” A nervous ripple of whispers chorused through the crowd. You gripped Taryn’s hand so hard you thought you’d break it. Your knuckles were so tight you feared they’d split. He’d never been pulled from a game after a fight; five minute majors here and there, once or twice a season he’d get a game misconduct and be thrown out for ten, but never in your entire relationship had it been his injuries that kept him from playing.

You turned to Taryn and Chantal, your eyes wide-open in fear and your heart racing. Fuck it, you weren’t going to wait for someone to give you permission to see your own husband when he was probably in the worst shape you’d ever seen him. Chantal’s expression mirrored your own; she knew this feeling, she’d dealt with it for the twenty years her sons had played hockey. She looked over at you, mouthing three words. Go to him. You frantically nodded, squeezing Taryn’s hand before shooting up from your seat, grabbing your bag and shoving the strap over your head. One way or another, you didn’t think you’d be back.

The heels of your boots clicked underfoot as you made your way out onto the concourse, following the familiar signs of the Saddledome to the private elevators on the far side of the arena. The attendant on call was an usher you knew, thank God, who opened the elevator doors immediately as you walked up. You tapped your foot nervously as the elevator descended down, down, down until it hit the lowest level, the underground corridors that were usually crowded with players, families, and media after games. It was eerily silent as you jogged through, the only sounds being your boots against the floor and the distant roar of fans as play continued. One left and two rights later, you were standing outside of the door to the dressing room, pausing for exactly two seconds to steel yourself to see whatever condition Matthew was in. Once you hand calmed your still-shaking hands as much as your body would allow you, you pushed the door open.

You were greeted by the team doctor and the head athletic trainer, crowded around your husband, who was propped up on what looked like a massage table. His jersey and pads had been stripped off, all that remained was his sweat-soaked t-shirt. He caught your eye. “It’s worse than it looks, I promise, babe.” You gingerly took a few steps forward. Matty’s good arm, the one that wasn’t being worked on, wrapped around your waist. He kissed you on the shoulder.

“What’s the damage?” You asked timidly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and looking at the doctor. He finished splinting Matty’s third finger.

“Couple minor cuts, mild concussion, sprained wrist, one broken finger,” he listed off. You sucked in a breath. He must have sensed the worry radiating off your body, because he smiled kindly at you. “I won’t lie, it’s not good, but I’ve seen worse. He should be back in a few weeks at the longest.” He turned to Matthew. “We’re done here, but you’ve got to promise me to take it easy.” He looked pointedly at you. “Listen to your wife when she tells you to slow down.” Matthew nodded, a hint of his old smile returning. “It really shouldn’t hurt much, but if it’s bothering you you can take some Tylenol. Let me know if it gets significantly worse.” The doctor zipped his bag shut, leaving with the trainer out the door and your husband with a finger splint and wrist brace.

You carefully hopped up onto the table, carding your hands through his curls, your foreheads just barely touching. He was sweaty, but you couldn’t have cared less. “You really scared me out there, you know,” your voice said, cracking.

Matty felt a pang race through his body, one that had absolutely nothing to do with his physical injuries. This was his wife, and he had scared her, even though it wasn’t entirely in his own hands and even though that was something he swore on their wedding day he’d never do to her. His heart broke like he broke his promise. “I’m sorry. He was about to beat up on the rookie, and I felt like I had to do something. I couldn’t just stand by and watch it when I could do something. But I worried you, and I shouldn’t have.”

You pulled away slightly, gently grabbing his good hand and running yout thumb over his knuckles. “I know, and how much you care about the boys, how deeply you care for the people in your life, is one of my favorite things about you. It’s one of the first things that made me fall in love with you.” The corner of his lip twitched up in a half-smile. “But I’ve never been scared for you in a fight before, Matty. And this scared the shit out of me, babe.”

His fingers skated up your arm to brush away the lone tear rolling down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. “I promised when we got married that I’d always take care of you, put your needs before my own. I didn’t do that today.”

“I get that it’s what you do, I get that you’re an enforcer,” you said, shaking your head. “And I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to give that up for me. I married you for you, all parts of you. And like it or not, that includes the parts of you that beat people up on occasion.” You gave a watery laugh. “I’m not asking you to stop fighting altogether. The boys need someone to back them up, and I’m proud that you’re that person. I’m just asking you to maybe think a little more before you go to drop the gloves, you know?” His blue eyes pierced into your own, his expression softening. “This was fine when you were 21, and I knew what I was getting into back then. I know what I’m getting into now. But,” you took a shaky breath, “there’s someone else you’ve got to worry about.”

His brows furrowed, not quite able to piece it together. You took a hard swallow. This wasn’t how I wanted to tell him. “I want to bring our baby to games. There’s nothing more that I want than for them to get to see you doing what you love. But I don’t want our son or daughter to have to see their father laid out on the ice because he couldn’t keep his temper in check for once in his life.” The tears were coming more freely now, and you reached up one hand in a futile effort to try and wipe them away, while the hand that was holding yours tightened almost imperceptibly.

Matthew’s eyes searched your face, looking for any trace of a joke, but he should have known better. This wasn’t something you’d joke about. His breath hitched in his throat. “You’re pregnant?” His heart lifted. While the two of you hadn’t been actively trying, you had gone off birth control a few months ago, having agreed that you were both open to the idea of a baby now, choosing to let whatever happened, happen.

You nodded, a real smile emerging on your face for the first time all night. Almost on its own accord, his hand moved to your stomach, hovering over it as if he was expecting you to already be showing. You looked down at his awestruck face, silent permission for his hand to creep under your jersey, pressing flush against your stomach. “How long have you known?”

You tilted your head. “I found out two days ago, just before I left to go pick up Taryn and Mom from the airport.”

“Do they know?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I wanted you to be the first. I was going to tell you this weekend, but…”

“Plans change.” You nodded.

“How far along are you?”

You met his eyes. “Eight weeks.” Matty silently cursed himself. He wished you had been able to do it how you wanted. He leaned into you, ghosting a kiss over your lips that enchanted you and comforted you and took your breath away all at the same time. He pulled away. “I promise I’ll take a step back from the fighting. You’re right that it’s my job, but this, you, will always be more important.” He took a deep breath. “Being your husband is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. But this,” he breathed, running his thumb over your skin under his jersey, just above where your son or daughter the size of a raspberry was, “being a dad?” His voice cracked. “I’m never going to do anything better. I don’t care if we win the Cup, or I get into the Hall of Fame, or sign the biggest contract the league’s ever seen. You and this baby are the most important people in my life. And I swear I’ll never do anything again that could make you question that.”

He kissed you again, but this one was different. This one grounded you, somehow communicating all of the guilt, and confusion, and happiness he was experiencing without saying a single word. “And I’m so, so happy about this, babe. Do you know how happy I am?”

It was a little bit of a rhetorical question, but you smiled anyway. “Really happy?”

A full-blown grin burst out onto his face. “I’m fucking ecstatic, babe. We’re having a baby. You’re gonna be a mom. I’m gonna be a dad.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but just like the kiss, these were different. Happy tears. “You’re gonna be a dad.”

#matthew tkachuk #hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl #rat king #hockey #matty tkachuk

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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years

Text

Not a Summer Crush Part One

a/n: calex x reader/ofc. welcome to part one! all feedback is appreciated. forgive any errors. set in au-present day svu. all fluff, allusions to svu type situations.

Part One

You never admit when you have a crush. Not to your friends, not to your crush, and certainly not to yourself. You're a one-night stand type of girl, and ideally with strangers whose names you don’t even know. You got off, they got off, and nobody had to worry about calling in the morning. That was how you'd managed to reach 27 without ever having a serious relationship (and, you thought, having a job in the DA's office at 27 spoke to the efficacy of your strategy). You sure as hell intended on keeping that streak going. But, ever since you started this new job three months ago, something strange was happening.

It was Casey and Alex, that was who was to blame for these pesky feelings. You couldn't help it, they were just infuriatingly sweet when it came to their relationship. Most people in long-term committed relationships were completely miserable at least as far as you could tell, but whenever someone mentioned Alex around Casey she got this energetic glow in her green eyes, like how you got when people mentioned puppies, unadulterated adoration. And when Alex talked about Casey, she went on for as long as anybody would listen about her intelligence, beauty, and cute habits, her interests, and talents. Their whole dynamic was nauseating. And yet, when you saw them, you felt this annoying warmth building in your icy heart. Maybe this was all simple professional adoration, that was a good excuse. You only wanted what they had because they both outranked you, Alex being Bureau Chief, Casey Assistant Bureau Chief. Of course, you admired them both. Yeah, that was it. When you looked into Alex's office and saw Casey there, answering emails on her couch and waiting for her wife to come back from court, the blush in your cheeks was only about Casey's dedication to her work. You certainly didn't have a crush, especially not on two people, not on your superiors.

So, you vowed not to think twice about it when Alex showed up at the office you shared with the other Junior ADAs one Monday morning and placed a cup of coffee on your desk.

"Morning, Haley," she said as you looked up from your work. "You're in early today."

"Yeah, I'm swamped with this St. Benedict's case," you said, explaining your presence. "There are just so many moving pieces, so many people to blame. I'm just trying to figure out my strategy here." You rubbed your temples. You'd rushed out of the apartment that morning, saying a quick goodbye to Ashley and the girls after your shower, you had only gotten a few sips of drip coffee in before rushing away on your bike. You were deeply touched by Alex's kind gesture in caffeinating you. You took a sip, still going on about the case. You pulled back from the cup in surprise as you recognized the taste of honey.

"Is this a café miel?" you asked. She had brought you your favorite special coffee. You expected plain black or a latte, something generic. "How did you know I loved these?"

Alex smiled, thoroughly charmed by your frantic early-morning energy. She wasn't sure why, but while she was in line picking up for herself and Casey, she'd remembered you going on about the virtues of coffee and honey to another poor Junior ADA who definitely hadn't asked. The way you talked about what you liked was cute to her, and watching you thank her now confirmed to her that it had been a good choice.

"I heard you talking Anderson's ear off about it yesterday," she told you. You looked at her sheepishly.

"I think he hates me," you said, fiddling with the outer sleeve of the cup.

No way does anybody hate this girl, Alex thought, but replied, "I was getting coffee for myself and Casey and thought I'd be nice to the new kid." Alex paused, hovered a little waiting for you to say something, but you seemed lost in thought. "Earth to Haley," she said. "Caroline?"

You snapped out of it. Your thoughts were split in two, half picking apart your case and half trying to figure out how to feel and react when your supervisor brings you your favorite kind of coffee. "Oh, I'm so sorry," you said, "I was just thinking about this nun..." You trailed off. At that, Alex actually laughed.

"OK, well, I'll let you get back to work. Let me or Casey know if you need another set of eyes." She started to leave but you stopped her, reaching under your desk for something.

"Wait, Cabot, how much do I owe you?" you asked, your manners catching up to your mind.

Alex only smiled. "Nothing. My treat."

"Thanks," you said as she left. You kept thinking about the conversation all day. How Alex had clearly paid attention to you, gone out of her way to do something nice for you. But it started to feel suspiciously like a crush as you sat on your couch thinking about Alex's slender fingers handing you your favorite drink early in the morning, how special it had made you feel. So, you weren't going to think about it again.

You also didn't think about it when, one warm evening, you literally ran into Casey on your daily run in the big park by the office.

You looked up after your head bumped another runner's shoulder. You tugged your earbuds out, dangling them around your neck, apologizing profusely. You completely zoned out when you were moving, so this happened a lot more often than you might like to admit. Today, you were deep in thought about a case law issue, and the park had all but ceased to exist in your perception.

"It's fine, Haley, calm down," you heard a familiar voice say, making you realize that you'd nearly trampled Casey Cabot Novak. You let out a mortified squeak.

Casey surprised herself. She was not at all bothered like she might usually be upon being rudely collided with on a very wide running path. Instead, she found your focus and bashfulness kind of... cute? Your face and chest were flushed red from exercise, your hair was falling out of its messy bun, and you had on a neon pink shirt with a neon orange running skirt, it looked like a toddler had dressed you.

You kept apologizing until Casey grabbed your shoulders and told you to stop.

"Join me for my last mile?" She asked, and you agreed. You kept the pace slow enough for small talk, Casey asked you, "So, what's up with the neon creamsicle look?"

"Oh my god," you chuckled as you rounded a corner, "a 6-year-old packed my gym bag."

While you showered that evening, you kept going over your afternoon. You were very embarrassed and a little horny, and couldn't get the image of a breathless, sweaty, Casey out of your mind. You decided these feelings were just to be blamed on runners' high and pushed them from your mind.

---

"You know, I really like the new junior ADA," Alex said as she splashed her face with warm water. Casey spit the toothpaste out of her mouth and cupped some water into it, swishing it around.

She spit again and said, "Anderson? He's fine, I guess. A little slow to object, a little quick to make a deal, but he'll get the hang of it."

"Haley," Alex said almost under her breath, patting moisturizer underneath her eyes.

"Oh," Casey replied, slightly flatly. "I've noticed."

Alex gave her a glare out of the side of her eyes as she removed a contact. "Not like that, my love. I just think she's a really good lawyer. Promising."

"She is. But I've also seen how you look at her."

"With professional respect," Alex said, rinsing the lens solution off her fingers. Casey's nighttime routine was much simpler, so she just watched her wife in the mirror, leaning against the shower door.

"Sure," Casey said, letting the silence hang between them. "Lex, you’re my wife. I know how you are when you're attracted to someone."

Alex turned around, leant against the counter, took Casey's hand in her own and ran her thumb across her wedding ring. "Are you jealous?"

"No," Casey said, kissing her wife. "You know, I might be if I didn't completely get it."

Alex sighed with relief. She hadn't exactly intended to get into this conversation.

"She is a bit young."

"If I recall correctly, someone I know was sleeping with Judge Mary Clark when she was that age."

Casey opened her mouth in mock-offense, and Alex kissed it closed.

---

Once it was acknowledged between the two of them, Casey and Alex had an agreement-- neither one of them could fault the other for flirting with you. In fact, they even enjoyed watching each other be sweet to you. And it was pretty harmless, they thought. The moments got more frequent. Alex brought you coffee most mornings, sometimes talking about work, but equally as often, she tried to get to know you. She now knew that you loved baking and crochet and Charlotte Brontë, that you grew up with 6 siblings, you were raised in Oakland, that you'd gone to Stanford. It was like she was collecting pieces of information for an eventual file titled "Caroline Haley: interests." When you weren't in, she left you notes. She even bought you a mug warmer, knowing your tendency to get sucked into a case and forget about your drink.

At the same time, Casey now insisted that the two of you run together whenever you could. She would tease you, complain when you were going too fast. She once convinced you to go for an early Sunday run, and even held your hair back as you vomited in a bush (you neglected to tell her how hungover you were, and she'd forgotten how much 20-somethings could drink). She laughed at you, but she bought you sympathy pancakes to apologize.

While Casey and Alex knew they were flirting, you had no suspicions. You assumed they were just very kind, open people, (and they were, when they wanted to be) contrary to what Anderson and the other junior ADAs had to say. You thought they all must just be frustrated by the difficulty of the job. You were good at staying positive, even in terrible circumstances.

On a particularly unpleasant Friday, Alex watched you from the hallway as you took a phone call, waiting to come in and see if you'd like to have an after-work drink. She watched your eyes light up, saw you smile as wide as she'd ever seen, watched you excitedly shake your hand back and forth in the air and scrunch your nose. Maybe a boyfriend? she wondered as she clicked open the door to the junior ADAs office, shutting it while you packed up your things.

"Hey, Cabot," you said, "I know I'm leaving kind of early, sorry about that, did you need something?"

"It's 6:30. Technically, you're here late," she said as she watched you search your impressively messy desk for something. "But no, I don't need anything, I was actually going to ask if you wanted to get a drink with Casey and me and some other attorneys."

You stopped what you were doing and looked at her with the most accurate yet unintentional impression of a kitten that Alex had ever seen. "Any other day, I would absolutely love to," you told her, “But some people from my studio are going to a salsa night and my partner can actually come to this one. It's been months since we've both been free at the same time to dance together, so I really can't miss it. But please ask me next time if you still want to?"

Alex couldn't resist the way your eyes got big when you asked, the subtle pink in your cheeks and nose, you became impossible to refuse (not that she would want to). She told you that yes, of course, next time, only a little deflated to your knowledge. She has a partner.

"Speaking of," you said as your phone rang. You picked it up. "No, Ashley, your shoes are not in my bag. What would I do with them, babe? Check your old one. Or wear your old ones. Yeah, ok, see you at home." Watching you casually go back and forth with whoever was on the other end of the line was captivating. Ashley must be the partner. That you were both not single and not straight wasn't surprising, but it was a little disappointing if Alex was honest with herself.

"You dance?" She asked you.

"Mm-hmm," you hummed. "I was semi-pro in high school and college, actually. I just got back into teaching a year or so ago when Ashley moved to the city. That flake, god." You snapped your backpack shut (a classy leather affair, but a backpack nonetheless-- Casey adored it, Alex remembered) and changed your tone of voice. "Alex, you guys should come tonight!"

She let out a laugh. "I am as uncoordinated as a baby deer, Caroline."

"I doubt that," you said, rising from your desk. "Because you're good at basically everything. But you don't even have to dance if you don't want to. It's at this place," you wrote down the address of the club on a post-it and stuck it to Alex's cheek. "Live music, drinks, and you get to watch me do my favorite thing in the world, so. Yeah, you should come."

Alex, taken aback by your familiar demandingness (she'd noticed how warm you were with everyone, always professional, yes, but you put people at ease perfectly naturally with your unpracticed air), said "I'll see what Casey says," and watched you excitedly flutter out of the office, trailing close behind you.

---

Casey agreed to come dancing. She had also been a little hesitant, but when Alex described how sweetly you asked, how your face lit up when you talked about it, she wasn't in a position to say no. She and Alex sent their apology texts to Pippa, Rita, Sophie, Serena, and Gillian, receiving very characteristic replies.

Casey: Sorry, Al and I have to raincheck, Haley invited us out dancing???

Rita: Ha, have fun with the little energizer bunny, you two.

Pippa: Rita, be nice.

Rita: No.

Rita: I once saw her actually bounce down a hallway.

Serena: Alex Cabot dancing? I wish I was coming.

Alex: :( ouch, Ser.

Pippa: Have fun, you two.

Sophie: Wait, is something happening with Haley? Why do you guys never keep me in the loop?

Gillian: Aw :.(

Alex: Nothing is "happening," Rita's just cruel.

Rita: Haley's impressive, all I'm saying.

Casey. OK. Anyway, we're going to go somewhere we've never been to watch our junior colleague dance instead of having the same whisky as always with you people.

Pippa: 👯‍♂️

---

part two

#calex #calex fanfic #calex x reader #casey novak x reader #alex cabot x reader #casey novak x alex cabot x reader #svu fanfic #law and order svu fanfiction #pls reblog love you

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