#he can’t fake retire again at this point
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♡𓂃Room 381
Bakugou X Reader
𓏲 ࣪The school tells the students the exciting news! now you gotta deal with the fact you have a new 'husband' who could care less about this whole situation.
Word count; 1.6k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃
The bell rings. There is tension in the air. Not because of a villain attack, no, there hasn't been one in days, but because all teachers have ordered all students back to the classrooms for an important discussion. No one knows what this is about and in this school, this could be anything. You pick up your bag and look around for any familiar faces hoping you can have a conversation about the situation, the lunch room is almost bare but you catch a familiar redhead and run up to him. “Hey Todoroki!” you smile at him giving him a small wave. He stops his movements and looks at you.
“Hi,” he says. It sounds very bland, you think, but what can you expect? Maybe he’s nervous as well.
“Can I walk with you to class? I’m nervous about this big discussion thing.” Todoroki starts walking but looks at you to continue the conversation so you take that as a yes and follow.
“What’s there to be nervous about?” you give him a face.
“What’s there? Are you for real asking me that right now?!” You turn to walk backward and face him. “I don’t know, let’s think. A Hero retires, A Hero has died, they are shutting down UA, a student has gone missing, the teachers are robots, and they want to recruit us!” It seems Todorokis's blank face has gotten even blanker.
“All those were completely reasonable until the last one. Do you always automatically think of the worst-case scenarios?”
“Well kinda but it’s not my fault.” you cross your arms, “you gotta think of the worse case scenarios when it comes to this line of work-!” you walking backwards didn’t notice how close you were getting to the classroom, which means you didn't notice the blond who was right near the door causing you to bump into him.
“Watch it bitch!” Bakugou pushes you away causing you to fall about into Todoroki.
“Alright asshole I’m not a freaking domino! You didn't need to push me!” you yell back in defense moving away from Todoroki. All Bakugou can do is give a scowl and walk into the classroom. “I Know I said it but I’m gonna say it again. What an asshole.” Todoroki nods following you into the classroom.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃
“Alright class I regret to inform you that the school board has decided that not only is it not enough we teach you hero skills we must now domesticate you. Following your continued hero work you will now be paired with someone who will be your fake married partner. You will have your dorms, each including bedrooms that only you can access with your thumbprint. You will be monitored with a sensor. If you can’t get along and you get no points or even worse, negative points you fail the semester. Which means no work study. No fighting.” Aizawa slips into his sleeping bag unusually quickly. The class is quiet for a moment before yelling commences. Questions are yelled and it isn't until Aizawas face looks annoyed it gets silent. The room is quiet enough you can hear other classrooms having the same reaction you all just had. You can’t help but think you were so far off in your assumptions and at this point you wish a hero was retiring. “I will answer questions but I am not talking over all of you.” Hands are quickly raised.
“What happens if you are paired up with someone insufferable?” Yaoyorozu asks, she’s bold but the majority of the class was thinking about it.
“To help encourage points if a pair can get over a 100 and have an overall ‘A’ Grade, you and your partner have the option to switch pairs with another group who is also in an overall ‘A’ Grade.” You and a couple of people sigh. It’s a relief.
“How does this Sensor work?” Midoriya asks, noting that he already has his notebook out on his desk.
“It looks like a camera, but it’s not. Created by some tech-savvy departments, it can sense and scan emotions and calculate to decide what points a pair shall receive. For example, if the pair gets into an argument, the machine with scan picks up what it needs to and calculates it into the point system. And more Mumbo jumbo.”
“So why exactly is this happening?” You ask.
“The school board wants to show what it’s like to balance the life you all hopefully will have when you graduate while still being a hero… there is more to it but that's neither here nor there. Pairings will be posted in a few. I need a nap.” And that's it. Aizawa closes his sleeping bag and the class is left with dreed until the pairings come out.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃
A knock is heard at the door and Aizawa slowly unzips his sleeping bag and answers the door, grabbing the paper and walking in front of the class. Everyone is quiet. Aizawa tapes the paper onto the board. “Some of you are paired with people in here and others are paired with others in other classes. I want absolutely no complaints. Next to your name is the room of your dorms.” As you would expect he goes back into his sleeping bag and the room is engulfed in chaos, everyone runs to the board, adrenaline running to see who they got. Gradually pairs start forming some cheers and some blushing tension. You get to the board and scan the paper. Down at the bottom in black ink ‘Y/N L/N and Katsuki Bakugou room 381’
“You gotta be fucking joking.” Of course, you two find your names at the same time. Why does he sound so disgusted, you're a fucking treat! You are about to remark him but before you can Aizawa comes out of his sleeping bag.
“It looks like you all found your names. Class is going to start now, so go back to your seats.” Are we just going to act like nothing just happened?!
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃
The class had ended, and the girls and you were walking to your new dorms with some of your things from your old dorms. You were quiet, way too quiet for someone to notice.
“Girl you okay?” Ochaco hugs your arm, “normally you are leading our conversations.”
“No, duh, she’s quiet! She's got Bakugou as her husband,” you say silently, wondering if Mina could be any louder.
“I’m gonna die. Or my eardrums are gonna die. Either way, something is dying!” You can’t help but complain.
“What’s the deal with you both anyway?” Kyoka questions, “Normally people can have at least one decent conversation with Bakugou, But I’ve never seen you guys even hold a simple conversation. He won’t even communicate in battle with you? And he communicates with Midoriya.”
“I honestly don’t even know.” Truth is you did know and it was an embarrassing story that no one can get out of you. You went to middle school with both Bakugou and Midoriya. Over time and God knows how this happened you gained a crush on him and decided it would be a brilliant idea to confess. When you did it was a total embarrassment not only did he laugh in your face and shut you down, but He told those punk friends of his and they made your middle school life an embarrassment. You swore since that day he was your enemy. Childish yes? But still partly true to this day.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃
You wave the girls goodbye and look at your new dorm you share with your new ‘Husband.’ You can’t help but think how ironic this is. You take a deep breath and enter the dorm. In the dorm is surprisingly a kitchen to your left and a small living room area in front with a door leading out to a balcony. Bakugou is sitting on the couch in the living room. It’s clear he’s already made himself comfortable with how he's sprawled out he is. You decided it’s just best to wait it out in your room and make yourself dinner once he goes to bed. You look and see two doors one with your name on it and another with Bakugou’s to the right of the living room area, you start walking over to your respective door.
“Don’t expect shit out of me.”
“I never expect anything out of you.”
“EXCUSE ME?!” Bakugou stands up facing you, “Who do you think you are saying that?!”
“If you aren't gonna put in any effort I’m gonna say whatever I want to you assface!” You both hear a ding. You didn't notice it before but over the TV is a point counter. Negative one. Not even five minutes into the dorm and you have negative points. “Oh now look what you did!”
“I didn't do that!”
“Yeah, you did!”
“Not my fault I don’t wanna do this stupid ass simulation. I just wanna be a Hero. Number one hero at that. A family and wife-” he points at you, “is just a stupid distraction from that and I don’t need this.” you roll your eyes and walk into your room, “DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” and you slam your door. You place your stuff down on your new bed and sit down putting your hands to your face. Your blushing?! Why the fuck are you blushing? Is it because he called you his wife? Which is stupid and just delusional, did you not hear what he said? A million thoughts are running through your head as you question yourself but nothing can deny the feelings in your stomach.
#mha bakugou#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugo katuski#bnha#bnha x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha x reader#mha#boku no hero academia
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Ectoberhaunt 2023. Day 17. Blood and Flesh.
CW: TW! Recurrent pregnancy loss. TW!Abortion. TW!Bleeding
Maddie: Jack, we need to talk. I know this is gonna sound crazy but I think Phantom, the ghost boy, is actually our son. And I’m sure Danny and Jazz know about it too.
What if we bring down on the Fentons the knowledge that they have ghost children without revealing Phantom’s identity?
Text+Chat+Memes=Prompt:
Of course Maddie wanted to have children. But…Not in college. She felt it was too soon. The lack of stable earnings and time were not conditions for growing a new person. She had nothing to give this potential child. Maddie did not hesitate long before deciding to have an abortion.
And for years, neither Jack nor Maddie have thought about this unplanned pregnancy.
Ectoplasm is toxic, obviously. But since ectology was only recently recognized by the scientific community, no one has ever fully analysed the effects of ectoplasm on the body.
When Maddie and Jack had the misfortune to become one of those couples experiencing recurrent pregnancy loss, they immediately suspected that the ectoplasm in their lab contributed to their reproductive difficulty. Put simply, death didn’t go with life.
They may not always have followed the lab’s safety rules perfectly, but is that why one of their first works will be exposing a teratogenic effect of ectoplasm? What if they’ve lost their only chance to be biological parents?
What a cruel price to pay for the work of life. Jack and Maddie so dreamed of their little happiness. Do they have to forget about it?
No, the Fentons don’t give up that easily!
They may have to spend a few years doing only theoretical work, but they’ll try again.
~~~~~
Ectoplasm is toxic. Tests, hopes…and a few miscarriages too.
Jazz was a miracle. Fenton family literally didn’t get out of hospitals to look after her health.
Danny was an even bigger miracle, because they didn’t have any hope of having a second child. Maddie and Jack didn’t even plan this pregnancy. Danny was born premature, with signs of hypoxia... but alive. His potential twin was not so lucky. Single intrauterine fetal death (sIUFD).
Right. Death still followed them. Of course, parents didn’t tell Jazz and Danny that they might have had another brother. It was their grief. Children had no reason to know about it.
~~~~~
"You filthy ghost!" Maddie stopped to rest after a chase for elder Phantom.
"Exhausted?" Dan was flying at a safe distance from her. "Maybe it’s time to retire, Maddie? A little exercise never stopped you before." The ghost was clearly making fun of her.
"Not going to happen, I’ll do it until I die if Amity Park need it. And my son will be here to stop you instead of me after me or Jack."
The smile on Ghost’s face faded immediately. "I hope he die first." The ghost whispered in a hoarse voice."It's best for everyone."
"What did you say?" Maddie rose up in anger, pointing her weapon at it.
"Has any thought crossed your mind about what happens to your children if anything happens to you? Go out every day and yell like idiots, attracting all the ghosts around." An ectoblast is blowing right up against her temple and crashing into the wall. The ghost frowned and turned away. "Did you ever think that Danny wouldn’t want to live without you? Did you think that he would be hurt if he had to lose you? No! Is it always about your stupid desires and ambitions, Mom."
For a moment Maddie thought he it was looking at her like it had seen a ghost, which was obviously just ridiculous. Maddie wanted to laugh about it, but somehow she couldn’t. Why would the ghost trying to fake human emotion care to hide the tears that gather in the corners of its eyes?
Maddie tried to get it out of her head. Anyway, it’s not that important. Phantoms have always been atypical. She’ll come home, take a warm shower, and tell Danny how much she loves him.
~~~~~
Maddie: My son is a strong boy and
Dan: He’s weak! He’s a freak! He can’t handle it, Mom!
Maddie had long pondered this theory since the day Jack admitted that Phantom had misspoke during the fight and called him his father but she had never experienced it before. Or maybe she wasn’t paying attention.
Maddie: Hey, Phantom, just a question, how old are you?
Dan: Why are you changing the subject? Twenty-four, twenty-five… Hell, I don’t remember. Stopped counting after 17, nobody cares anyway.
And her first months dating Jack were 24 years ago. Right. The eyebrows, the shape of eyes and the height is all from Jack. The waist and the side eye from her. Theoretically. Still need more proof.
~~~~~~
Dan: Is this all your frail human form can do?
Maddie walked past the Casper High playground when she saw a ghost flying around. It was one of the new ones. The Phantom’s full-grown specimen. More dangerous. And totally unpredictable. Maddie squeezed the gun harder. Her theories are just theories and she can’t have such a dangerous spirit near the school, near her children.
Danny: Shut up and give me my bottle of water, asshole.
This voice. Maddie stopped in shock. What’s her boy doing so close to a ghost? He’s always so terrified of them.
Dan: No pull-ups, no water. You need muscles. Without them you’re gonna look like a worm if you’re gonna grow up to be taller than Jack as I am.
Danny: Just so you know, you’re a terrible big brother and I hate you.
Dan: Well, that just means I’m doing a good job.
Danny: When Mom asks who destroyed the furniture in Vlad’s house I’m pointing at you. A little run around town will be good for you.
And as they say, Older siblings are like your parents' personal science fair. They're a bunch of experiments.
Dan: ...Just so you know, it sounded completely insane. Terrible. Good job, but don’t go near Dani with those jokes. Jazz will kill us both for setting a bad example.
Danny: Bad example? Since when has a good sense of humor become a bad example?
Dan: Shut up. Drink water and go to the shower. Jazz is gonna kick my ass if you die of overheating.
Danny: Huh, afraid of one know-it-all? When dad chased you with a bazooka, you didn’t seem scared.
Dan: Сome on, dad has a lot of strengths, yeah, but the ability to aim isn't one of them. And not
Dani: driving a car?
Danny: Right. Wait, how long have you been eavesdropping?
Dani: Long enough to blackmail you both. Сomputer’s mine for the rest of the week.
Dan and Danny: Shit.
~~~~~
The Invisobill. or Phantom. Ha. Danny Fenton…Danny Phantom. Weston boy said crazy things. Yeah. But what if he was only partially wrong? Everything except the color of its eyes and hair is so much like Danny's. If this were typical manipulation from a ghost hoping to shake the desire of ghost hunters to chase a creature similar to their child, he would have had to give it up months ago. But phantom did not change his disguise. This is his true form. What about ghost girl and older ghost? They are also so young.
Maddie could not sleep. In her head struggled scientist and woman weighed down by feelings of guilt and shame. She was tormented by philosophical problems and religious issues. No, Maddie, not even a neural tube is formed at that time. It was just a collection of cells. It’s not a person. It doesn’t feel pain. And ghosts do not too. Right? Is it even acceptable to compare such things? Is it possible that a ghost is not the remnant of negative human emotions and memories? What is responsible for its formation then? What is the purpose of such a ghost?
And more importantly, how long have these ghosts been near and they did not notice? Has the portal become a source of energy necessary for their existence in the physical plane? Or is it only they who have not seen them?
So painful. It’s so unpleasant to think about what monsters they look like to their dear Danny and Jazz. Ghosts or not, she threatened creatures who might have been part of their family in front of her babies. God, naive teens must think that three Phantoms are their siblings or something. Of course! That explains the disappearance of fenton thermos and the way the Phantoms sneak into the portal and Danny’s always somewhere in trouble and…Oh my God, they could be in so much danger! How long has this been going on?
No, the real question is..Hm, if this is going on for so long, why haven’t the ghosts done anything…evil? If their nature is in the destruction then why didn’t anything happen? Jack and she would never have missed something that would hurt their children.
~~~~~~
The fight between the Skulker and Invisobill was particularly fierce this time. Maddie was unlucky to be in one of the damaged buildings. But who is she if not a scientist? She will find a way to benefit in such a situation.
Unnecessary risk, completely unprofessional. But… The debris of the wall does not lie on her very tightly and the weapon still with Maddie. Yeah. She has to test her theory. She has to. She can get up and leave if she needs to. Right? A little dizziness never killed anyone. She just feels cold and sounds are strange.
Maddie: Help. Help! Someone!
M-Maddie? An insecure voice with an echo sounds. Yes, it's near.
Maddie: Help! I can’t.. I can’t get up. T-Hard to breathe.
Danny: Mum! Mama, hold on, I’m coming.
Phantom checks her pupillary reflex. Who taught him that? Jazz?
The touch of his hand, so cold and shaky.
Now Maddie really doesn't feel so good. It’s good that the ghost is her boy. She doesn’t have to worry about anything happening to people around. Neither he nor Danny know how to lie.
She can breathe.
Just cover her eyes for a moment and… Just a few seconds.
Phantom:Jazz, Jazz! Call an ambulance. I don’t know what to do. I..I can’t just make mum intangible. What if she has a crush syndrome and I make it worse or…
Her boy. Why is Danny so scared?
Danny: Tucker, she is bleeding and she’s not responding to me and…
Sshh, my little star, is all right. Mom just needs to lie down and rest a little.
~~~~~~
Maddie could not believe that she had actually passed out. But the time spent in the hospital gave her enough time to think about everything.
Maddie: Jack, we need to talk. I know this is gonna sound crazy but I think Phantom, the ghost boy, is actually our son. And I’m sure Danny and Jazz know about it too.
Jack: Honey, are you sure we don’t need to double-check if you have a concussion?
~~~~~~
Maddie and Jack decide to watch surveillance videos for the first time. After all, it concerns the safety of their children, they have the right to know what happens in the house in their absence. Especially when the ghosts are nearby.
Children *live in their own sitcom*:
They have seen enough. Maddie decides to check chats on Jazz’s phone. It’s for their safety, only. She’s a good mother but what if the ghosts are up to something?
The chat was so..Teenage? And Chaotic. Normal? No, definitely not. How many times have they punished Danny unfairly? Did Jazz learn to lie and they didn’t even notice? And what the hell, why were they joking about dissection. It’s just awful. They need to talk immediately. No, it will look suspicious. They need to try to make contact with ghosts. And then they’ll all be grounded. All five.
Oh, and she thought two kids were a lot of work. How are they gonna handle three more with the bizarre biology ectology?
Do they have hobbies, interests? They are definitely more complicated than theblob-ghosts. Was she wrong? Do they have emotions, a need for socialization? Can she trust her emotions in this matter?
~~~~Bonus~~~~
"What the hell happened to freak’s neck?!"
Danny: Um, excuse me, ma'am, he’s been doing Hatha yoga in India for years. Practice opens up amazing flexibility in the joints! Right, brother?
Dan: Fuck off.
Ma'am: Don’t take me for an idiot! What about his skin color then?
Jack: You have something against my son’s tan?
Dan: I told you going shopping with me was a bad idea.
Dani: If you didn’t scare everyone around, it wouldn’t be so bad.
Dan:...I didn’t even try to do it this time. Why is she meddling?!
~~~Bonus~~~~
Dan: Why am I only third?
Dani: Because I have successfully stabbed Danny in the back when he did not expect it. With you he is always waiting for a trick. This makes me much more successful than you :)
#ectoberhaunt23#ectoberhaunt 2023#eh23#ectoberhaunt#eh magic#eh science#day 17#blood#flesh#danny phantom#danny fenton#dan phantom#dani phantom#dp prompt#dp memes#tw blood#tw abortion#tw recurrent pregnancy loss
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Indecent Proposal (17)
Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.
Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader
Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Jake Jensen
Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, fluff, implied needy reader and Bucky, candy theft, polyamory
Indecent Proposal (16)
Indecent Proposal masterlist
Two months after Bucky and Steve found out about Rumlow’s plan to get information about them using the nurse, said man disappeared.
No one cared about Brock Rumlow's disappearance. One day, he left town and never got seen again.
People may think Steve and Bucky took care of the annoying thorn in their flesh, but the truth is that they didn’t touch one hair on his head.
“Still nothing?” Bucky watches Natasha stuff the money he brought to her into her bag. Another good investment for the mobster, money for her retirement to Natasha. “Be honest, Nat. Did you take care of him?”
“I told Rumlow that his little stunt with the nurse went too far. He had the order to stay away from your…” she wrinkles her forehead still not understanding your relationship with the mobsters. “Fiancé.”
“We didn’t kill him,” Steve pushes off the wall to look at the pictures on Natasha’s desk. “Even though, we planned on taking him down. Rumlow had it coming.”
Natasha frowns deeply. “If none of us took him down… What happened to him? This doesn’t make sense at all.”
“What if he fucked with the wrong people over?” Bucky scratches his scruffy chin, wondering if the man obsessed with him and Steve annoyed the wrong person. “We can’t be the only people he messed with.”
“I don’t know,” Natasha sighs and rubs her tired eyes. “He’s a good cop.” She rolls her eyes when Steve makes a retching noise. “Believe it or not, he’s not a complete psycho. Rumlow is good at his job. I don’t know what you did to make him lose his mind.”
“We did shit to your little buddy,” Steve grunts. “If someone made him disappear, I owe him one. This way, I didn’t have to get my hands dirty.”
“This must be very funny to you, Rogers,” Natasha wrinkles her nose. “He was a good man and a good cop. It’s too bad he got lost in your web.”
“We didn’t lure him in,” Bucky snaps at Natasha. He glares at her, making sure she knows they did come here to chat. “One day your friend decided he must bring me and Steve down. Does he even know that we maintain peace? No one dares to harm citizens since we took over the throne.”
“I get it,” she huffs. “You are the kings of your kingdom of shit.”
“Careful—” Steve snarls at the redhead. “Our fathers build this kingdom with blood and terror,” the blonde steps closer to Natasha, sizing her up. “Bucky and I changed the old ways. We took their empire and changed it for the better.”
“What do we do about Rumlow now? If he’s dead, people will start asking questions. It’s no secret that he was obsessed with us.”
“I will try to keep you out of this,” Natasha steps away from Steve. She doesn’t want to rile him up even more.
“You’ll keep us up to date,” Steve points his index finger at the redhead. “We need to know every detail of his disappearance…”
“Doll, what are you doing,” Steve laughs. You threatened to cut Bucky’s cock off because he dared to steal a chocolate bar from your secret stash.
“He stole from me!” You pout. “Bucky stole my favorite chocolate bar. It was the last one with hazelnut.” Faking a sob, you look at Steve. “You should scold him.”
“I was hungry after you wanted a taste of Bucky,” the brunette grins. “And you got a whole drawer filled with the sweets. Candies, chocolate bars, all the good stuff. Steve, she’s got a sweet tooth.”
“Not only a sweet tooth,” Steve smirks. “She’s a naughty little minx too.”
“Hey! I’m not little,” you kneel on the bed to glare at Steve. Not months ago, you trembled in fear in front of Steve, and now you talk back and tease the mobster. “You better watch your tongue, or I won’t show you the latest ultrasound picture!”
Bucky watches you and his husband bicker. He smirks and chuckles. The brunette leans back and enjoys the show. “Steve, she’s getting cocky. What will you do about it?”
Steve cocks a brow. His features darken and he smirks at you. “I will spank her cute ass if she gets even cockier.”
You laugh at Steve’s words. He wouldn’t dare put his hands on you. Both men are deadly and strong, but with you, they are soft and gentle. Even if you are a brat and a needy slut sometimes.
“The doctor will be here in half an hour,” Bucky stretches his legs and yawns. It was a long day. Jensen and Bucky tried to find out more about Rumlow’s disappearance over the last hours. “Let’s not fight over stolen candy.”
“I did not forget you stole from my stash, punk!” You poke your index finger into Bucky’s thigh. “You are on thin ice, Sir.”
“Sir, huh?” Bucky licks his lips. “Steve, how long until the doctor arrives.” He looks at his husband.
“Buck. No,” Steve shakes his head. “Last time the doctor almost caught us red-handed.”
“Hmmm…good times,” you nod and sigh dreamily. “Very good times.”
“Your fiancé is healthy,” the doctor murmurs while scribbling down a few notes, “everything looks good. There is nothing to be worried about.” He looks up from his notes. “We should talk about the results of the ultrasound we took today now.”
He clears his throat and looks at you. The elderly man gives you a soft smile. “Can I tell them?”
The doctor chuckles now. “Of course, my dear.”
“Alright,” you clap your hands before grinning at Steve. “I will blow your mind.”
“Please tell me she’s not pregnant with a Tasmanian devil,” Steve mirrors your smirk. “I bet she is. It would explain her bratty behavior.”
“Stevie, let Y/N talk. I wanna know what she wants to talk about,” Bucky grabs your hand. Anytime you have an ultrasound examination he turns into a softie. “Go ahead doll. We are listening.”
You take a deep breath. Suddenly you’re a little nervous. “I-doctor can you tell them?” You chicken out and drop your gaze.
“Fuck! Is something wrong with the baby?” Steve presses one hand to his heart. “Please tell us.”
“Doll…” Bucky holds your hand a little tighter. The usual tough man looks helplessly at his husband. “Stevie?”
“The baby and your fiancé are healthy,” the doctor hastily says. “We got no bad news for you. It’s rather, good news for you and your fiancé, gentlemen.”
“Good news,” Bucky nods at Steve. “Did you hear…good news. Phew.” He sighs deeply. “Thank fuck.”
“What is the good news?” Steve rumbles. He stares at your swollen belly, awaiting an answer. “Doctor?”
You take a deep breath and look at both men. You don’t know if the news is good to them or not. “We—we are having twins!”
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky#stucky x reader#pregnant reader#stucky x fem#stucky x female reader#female reader#stucky x y#Indecent Proposal (17)
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okay so. König in love or any thoughts rlly i need to crawl into your brain and live there. ;v; you have made me love him 10x more
i can’t decide on whether or not he would be very passive or very aggressive when in the pursuit of someone (let’s be honest with ourselves: there is no inbetween)!
in situations where you’re perhaps working together, it must kick in some sort of urgency. you’re toying with your gun, missing cues, a bit too flighty… as if it isn’t life or death here. his approach is certainly more aggressive, then: you have to be kept safe and away from all of the horrible filth in the world. a battlefield is no place for a princess, and the thought of you getting hurt or worse before you’re able to have a bunch of cute kids or live out on that vast expanse of land with the cozy cabin he’s promised you is horrifying for him.
you don’t get much of an option here. he isn’t retiring his weapons any time soon, but you must. he’s losing sleep, lashing out at any other operator who comes a hair too close. he’s heard rumors of women who sleep around the barracks and those men ogling you must have those things in mind for you. he wouldn’t allow that. he’s seen men come back from torture and he won’t allow that, either. a proposal is rushed, but it’s sincere. he’ll take you on all the nice dates you didn’t get to share prior when he’s on leave. just stay home, send him letters, call him often, and you’ll get the world and then some.
König is only passive when he’s out of his element. meeting an angel on earth in some rundown shop where he’s unprepared and feeling utterly naked without a knife or a big gun on his person is harrowing. he thinks back on those times from high school: the faked confessions, his first kiss only stolen away out of pity rather than love. he has no fucking idea how to approach a woman that he will likely never see again. so, he just doesn’t.
the beast at the corner of the shop flicking through packages of subpar snacks only offers a few subtle glances your way, silently praying you don’t detect the way he openly stares when your back is turned. he follows at a distance, innocuously pretending he’s also interested in the flour down the baking aisle you’re on. he can bake, sure, would happily spend hours in his lonely kitchen preparing you strudel or something more to your liking if you asked, but what’s the point of doing any of that for himself?
if, for some reason he can’t quite comprehend, you decide to approach him… batting your eyelashes and pointing up at something on the top shelf, requesting his assistance, he might try to shove back the thought that you’re only being kind because you need something. he’ll make small talk while passing you the package of semisweet chocolate chips, huff something akin to a laugh when you make a quip about how quiet this store is when it’s your favorite. the flirtations come naturally for you, saying that you wished he could give you an inch or two (as to not heckle anyone taller for help in the future), and damn his loose tongue because he’s quick to respond then. telling you he could give you nine, actually.
silly relationship thoughts…?
he definitely falls into the realm of men that send you the most cringy “couple goals” videos. you know the ones that are like “five reasons your man is not cheating!” followed by a slideshow of a home cooked meal, a soft looking bed, a photo of a couple holding hands and all giddy smiles, a nice clean home, then… a picture of a woman in some cute lacy lingerie. has the worst grin on his face when your expression sours, but he promises to scour the internet until he finds something lovely and strappy for you to wear for him.
sleepy König is a menace!! he snores. loudly. sometimes talks absolute nonsense. it’s impossible to push him away because he’s so big and it’s all dead weight when he’s knocked out. if you’re trying to wriggle out of bed because the birds are chirping outside and the sunlight is peeking at you through the curtains, his grip around you only tightens. he likes to hold your hand while you’re sleeping, too. even when his get a bit clammy. it’s cute until you desperately long for a shower and he still won’t wake up.
his significant other is the perfect comfort to him. even when things are bad: an argument or an entire ocean between you two. your voice whether infuriated or in love, the smell of your perfume or even your sweat, the feeling of your soft skin or the bite of your teeth, your taste whether from your mouth or skin, the view of you’re messy bedhead or dressed to utter perfection. all of you is a comfort. he isn’t just a lover, he’s a horribly obsessed devotee in every way. logs in some mental list what perfume you wear on what day, how you choose to dress depending on what you’re doing, mundane things like how you wring your hands after washing them or just how you position yourself when standing or sitting. every detail has its importance, and he wants to memorize everything about you for those long nights when he’s deployed and you can’t be there with him.
he knows what a meme is, yes, he isn’t that old, but his sense of humor more aligns with whatever is dark or perverse and historical jokes (those “me if i were in medieval Europe” videos might make him grin). if you’re sent one and it goes over your head, he’s happy to explain to you the time period, what role you and he might play in such a scenario, all in so much detail you wonder if he’s actually some sort of genius. only… he would casually tell you he wouldn’t mind going down on you even if you were some maiden from a time long past that hadn’t bathed in weeks.
probably likes to mark you up a bit when he knows he’ll be away for a while. bite marks on your inner thighs, a necklace of hickies on your neck and along your clavicle. it’s embarrassing, trying to explain why you’re wearing a scarf or a thick choker in the middle of the warmer months. he doesn’t do it out of fear that you’ll run off to another (though, maybe that is part of it), but ultimately so you won’t forget. not about the way he made you feel, about the little whines that left your mouth or the way you gripped at his hair, who you belong to just as much as he belongs to you.
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you saw the truth in me || George Weasley
Title: you saw the truth in me
Pairing: George x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of fighting/violence, mentions of blood.
Summary: George never thought he’d be back here again, heartbroken over the only girl he’s ever loved. But once again, he only has himself and his stupidity to blame. Hockey has always been his safe place, but even that isn’t enough to heal his broken heart. A man once at the height of his life, is now on the cusp of losing it all. It’s time for the lies and fakeness to end, and George can only hope it isn’t too late.
A/N: here it is, the final part of hockey!george! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this series and left lovely comments/sent messages - it truly means so much to me that you all love hockey!George as much as I do! As always, comments/feedback are always welcome and appreciated <3
Tags: @rk-ceres
-
George is purely operating on auto-pilot at this point. When Y/N walked out of his life she took all of his motivation and will to do anything with her. If hockey wasn’t all he had left George surely would have been happy rotting away in bed for the foreseeable future. But without Y/N around he has to focus on something, so hockey it is.
He only gets out of bed because he has practice and training and film sessions to attend. He only gets in the shower so that he doesn’t scare away the few people he hasn’t managed to run off. Eating is purely for fuel, and something he only remembers to do when his body is on the verge of collapsing.
Before she came back into his life George thought hockey was the only love he’d ever have. Hell, he even went back home and convinced his ex-girlfriend to pretend to be engaged to him so that he could further his career. But having Y/N in his home and in his heart taught him many things, one of them being that there is more in life than just hockey. It really made George reevaluate his outlook, made him think about what happens when he retires and what he wants his life to look like.
Before Y/N he had convinced himself that he’d spend the rest of his days alone, spending time with his family and doting on his nieces and nephews between lavish vacations and golf trips. Maybe he’d coach a peewee league or two. Whatever he would do George had it in his head that he would be doing it alone.
But once Y/N reappeared in his life all of those future plans changed. He saw a house in a quiet suburb with a golden retriever in the yard. He saw Y/N in the kitchen, humming to herself as she made dinner. There were kids too, at least three, a perfect combination of the two of them that would fill their house with love and laughter.
It was a future that George didn’t just imagine - he yearned for it. And with one mistake it’s gone.
Now he’s not really sure what the point of it all is. What’s the point of being at the height of his career when there’s no one in the stands cheering him on? What’s the point of making all of this money when he has no college funds or family vacations to spend it on?
He knows everyone is worried about him, but he’s gone into pure survival mode. Ignoring everyone and everything that might make him feel something. Just like he did the last time he fucked up and lost Y/N.
-
George grunts as Ross slams him into the boards, his shoulder seizing up as his head bounces off the glass. He doesn’t even have the energy to hit back, he just lets him skate off with the puck.
He’s been playing like absolute shit ever since he came back from spring break, but George can’t find it in himself to care. There’s a Y/N shaped hole in his heart, and there isn’t room in his mind for anything except the pain he feels without her. Sure he’s the one who broke them up, but he was doing what he thought was best for her - not for him.
Even knowing that the Rebels will be drafting him next week isn’t enough to make him feel anything other than pain, which is ironic considering the fact that he told Y/N some bullshit about needing to focus on hockey was the reason why he was ending things. At this point George doesn’t even care if he makes it to the NHL, hell Coach could cut him tomorrow and he’d walk away from hockey forever.
Without Y/N nothing really makes sense anymore.
George is so out of it that he doesn’t even realize the game is still going on around him until Coach blows his whistle.
“All right, that's enough for today, hit the locker room boys. Weasley - my office, now!”
He takes his time leaving the ice, not wanting to face the worried looks his teammates have been sending his way for days. George is almost thankful that Coach is about to tear him a new asshole, since the locker room will probably be empty by the time he gets back there and he doesn’t have to ignore all the questions the boys are sure to have.
“What the fuck has gotten into you, Weasley?” Coach asks before George’s ass is even in the seat across from his desk.
“Just got a lot on my mind,” George mumbles, shrugging his shoulders.
Coach huffs, clearly torn between berating the boy in front of him or offering him a sympathetic shoulder. “Look, I can’t imagine the shit you’re going through, kid. But you gotta leave it in the locker room. Out on that ice the only thing that should be in your head is the game, you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I mean it, George. Fucking up out there isn’t just going to fuck things up for the team but for you as well. The Rebel’s are only offering you a provisional contract, there’s no guarantee they’ll actually call you up once you graduate. Then you’ll be stuck entering the draft as a free agent, and with the way you’ve been playing you’ll be lucky to make it onto a farm team. This is everything you’ve been working towards, Weasley and you are so fucking close, kid. Don’t let all that hard work go to waste. Hockey is the only thing you’ve got room for in your life, understand?”
George nods, and after a few moments of silence Coach dismisses him and he doesn’t hesitate to get the fuck out of there.
But Coach is right. If he can’t have Y/N at least he still has hockey, and that will have to be enough.
-
Which is why he’s ignored every single one of Fred’s phone calls, and has made up an excuse every time Adam or Thomas invites him out to do something. He told them Y/N had to go back home for some kind of family emergency to explain his shitty mood, and George knows the second they get him alone they’ll be able to tell something bigger is going on; and that is not a conversation George is ready to have.
They’ve got one more preseason game before Morris announces him as Captain, and George is just holding on until then. Once the announcement is made he’ll be able to get his shit back together and be the man everyone seems to think he is.
At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.
-
“Hey, you okay?”
Y/N flinches at the sound of Fred’s voice, and she slowly spins around to face him. He’s standing just where George did all of those weeks ago when he came to ask for her help and it makes the hole in her chest throb. Because even though George hurt her again, Y/N wishes it was him standing there checking on her, not his twin.
“Just peachy,” she lies, giving Fred her best fake grin.
Fred snorts in laughter. “I think you’ve always been so focused on George that you forget I’ve known you just as long as he has, Y/N. So cut the crap, we both know you’re not okay.”
Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders slump. Because Fred is right. She’s so far from being okay that word has lost all meaning. It’s been three days since she left Chicago, and even though she’d been desperate to get away Y/N finds herself wishing she was there, back at home with George.
She’s not really sure when Chicago became home, but the second she touched down in Washington she knew this wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Everything just feels wrong.
Her old apartment that she thought was so cozy feels like a prison cell, skating at the community center doesn’t bring her the same joy it used to - not when she knows what it’s like to skate at the arena with George by her side. Even seeing her friends leaves her with a longing to hang out with Olivia and Jenny.
It’s like George finally showed her what it really means to live her life, and now she’s just floating along with no idea how to function anymore. So she plasters on her best fake smile and does what she does best: pretend.
“Look,” Fred starts, taking a few steps forward so he’s closer. “I have no idea what happened between you and George while you guys were in Chicago and I’m not going to pretend that I fully understand the relationship you two have. But there are a few things I do know for sure. For starters I know my brother is hurting, he’s refusing my calls and if the texts I’ve gotten from his teammates are true he’s shutting himself out from the world. And the only other time he did that was after he broke up with you and he was heartbroken.”
Y/N looks away from Fred, not wanting him to see how upset it makes her knowing George is hurting too. Even though she knows he brought that upon himself, she knows she played a role in that pain too. Instead of sticking around to hear what George had to say, she shut down and ran away, just like she did all those years ago. Just like she regrets doing all those years ago.
Instead of staying and working things out together, she ran, and all that has accomplished is making them both feel like shit.
“I also know that whatever the hell happened between you two was far from fake. Because you’re both hurt for real, and some stupid lie or argument between two people pretending to be in love wouldn’t cause this kind of heartbreak,” he continues when she doesn’t say anything. “Finally, I know whatever the hell happened was just a roadblock in your story, not the end. You still love George, and you’re holding out hope that he still loves you too.”
His voice is so strong and sure, and those feelings are reflected in Fred’s gaze once Y/N gets the courage to look at him. It almost takes her breath away, how confident Fred is that her and George will work things out.
“How do you know?” she asks, unable to keep the question in. “How can you be so sure that everything is going to work out?”
The smile on Fred’s face could light the world as he gestures towards her left hand. “Because you’re still wearing the ring my brother gave you. If everything that happened was really fake, and you’re really done with him, why are you still wearing it?”
Y/N is at a loss for words, and with a final wink Fred turns on his heel and walks away. Once he’s disappeared she can’t help but look at the diamond sparkling on her finger, and even just the thought of taking it off makes her chest ache. Despite it being a painful reminder of what could have been, every time she’s tried to take it off Y/N was never quite able to go through with it. It’s the last claim George has over her, and taking it off means that they really are over.
And if George is feeling just as heartbroken as she is, maybe there still is hope for a happily ever after.
-
“Wow, Fred wasn’t lying. You really do look like shit.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at Angelina’s bluntness, but there’s a genuine smile on her face for the first time in days.
“Please, come in and continue to insult me when I already feel like dog shit,” Y/N responds, opening her front door wider so she can come in.
It’s been a few days since Fred confronted her at the rink, and Y/N isn’t totally surprised that Angelina is here to check up on her. She’d kind of been hoping that she would show up eventually, because Y/N has been dying to get a female perspective on the situation. If anyone is going to tell it to her straight with no regard for her feelings it’s going to be Angelina Johnson.
Perhaps the best thing to come out of her relationship with George, besides all the love and whatever, is her relationship with Angelina. Dating one half of Fred and George is taxing, to say the least, and the two girls developed a kind of kinship over complaining about all the shit their boyfriends got into.
Luckily Y/N got to keep Angelina in the breakup, because getting fake engaged to your ex boyfriend and then falling in love with him again is something only a girl who is dating a Weasley twin can understand.
“You know I already nursed you through one George Weasley breakup,” Angelina teases as she plops down onto the couch. “I’m not really sure I have it in me to do it again.”
“You came over here on your own, you realize that, right?” Y/N sits down next to her, halfheartedly hitting the other girl with a throw pillow. “You’re the one who volunteered yourself for this position.”
“Semantics,” Angelina scoffs playfully. She bites her lip, suddenly feeling a bit nervous as she clutches the pillow Y/N hit her with to her chest. “I mean it kind of is my fault that you’re in this situation, so it only makes sense that I help you come up with a plan to get out of it.”
Y/N rolls her eyes. “Just because Fred got this hairbrained idea for George and I to get fake engaged because you read a bunch of romance novels does not make any of this your fault. I’m the one who went and fucked up the plan by actually getting real feelings. And you certainly didn’t make George lie to me. I’m the one who got myself into this mess.”
“Still, I feel bad and Fred has been fucking moping around the apartment since George refuses to pick up his calls and I needed a good reason to get the hell out of there.”
“So you’re here for purely selfish reasons,” Y/N laughs. “I see how it is.”
“So you really fell in love with George again, huh?” Angelina questions, nudging Y/N’s knee with her own.
“Yeah, like a fucking idiot.”
Angelina huffs a laugh. “I don’t know how those boys ended up managing to get two of the hottest girls we went to school with. I swear it must be witchcraft.” That pulls another smile from Y/N, and she considers her next words carefully. “And you’re not an idiot, Y/N. If you fell back in love with George it’s because of who George is and the way he treated you. It’s not like you hated him and then woke up on a random morning madly in love again.”
Y/N shrugs, keeping her eyes focused on the rug to keep from looking at the other girl. “I don’t think I ever really hated George,” she admits quietly. “Was I pissed at him for breaking up with me? Of course, but I never hated him. I think deep down I’ve always loved him, but I refused to acknowledge those feelings to keep myself from getting hurt. That’s the only reason I agreed to this stupid thing in the first place, I told myself either this was George and I’s second chance at a future or it was the wake up call I needed to finally put that chapter of my life to rest and move on.”
“And which one was it?”
“Wake up call,” Y/N responds, her tone saying ‘duh, isn’t it obvious?’
Angelina gives her a grin that Y/N swears she’s seen on Fred’s face before. I guess it’s true that people in long term relationships start to mimic each other’s mannerisms.
“Then why haven’t you taken off the ring?”
Y/N groans, flopping back against the pillows. “You’re such a shithead, you know that? Fred asked me the same question at the rink the other day.”
“He did?” Angelina asks, even though the glint in her eyes tells Y/N that she already knew that. “You know I deserve an award for all the work I’ve put into that boy. He’s a different man than he was when we met, and it’s all thanks to me.”
“If anyone has changed during the course of your relationship it’s you,” Y/N teases. “You used to actually be tolerable and now you’re both insufferable idiots.”
Now Angelina is the one smacking Y/N with a pillow, hitting her softly a few times before they’re both dissolving into a fit of giggles.
“So answer the question,” Angelina urges once they’ve calmed down. “If you and George really are over for good why are you still wearing your engagement ring?”
Y/N sighs, holding out her left hand to examine the piece of jewelry George slid onto her fourth finger. It’s everything she’s always wanted her engagement ring to be, a true reminder of how well George knows her and his dedication to do everything he can to make her happy. It’s a reminder of all the plans they’d made as teenagers, and even though it was supposed to be fake, she’d viewed it as a promise that George would make all of those other dreams come true too.
“I guess because I don’t really want it to be over. Of course I’m pissed at George and I’m upset that he lied to me, but I want that second chance. Or maybe it’s our third chance, who the hell knows anymore. I just know that I’m not ready to say goodbye to George Weasley for good. I think he fell back in love with me too, I just don’t know how to fix this mess we’ve gotten ourselves in.”
That stupid Fred grin is back on Angelina’s face and Y/N already regrets the words that have just come out of her mouth. Fred really has rubbed off on Angelina too much, and while she doesn’t know what the plan is, the look on Angelina’s face tells Y/N that she already has one.
And she’s not really sure if that’s a good thing or not.
-
George had planned on ignoring it.
The knocking started over twenty minutes ago, and he figured whichever of his teammates decided to try and talk some sense into him would eventually get tired and give up. But now it’s gone from simple knocking to pounding, and as much as George doesn’t want to see anyone he does have neighbors and the last thing he needs is a noise complaint to make him feel shittier than he already does.
So he stomps to the front door, fully intent on opening it just long enough to tell whoever it is to fuck right off so he can go back to wallowing in peace. But all of that fades away, since the second he yanks the door open Olivia and Jenny are pushing their way through, forcing George to the side as they storm into his apartment.
Adam and Thomas follow their girlfriends, but they at least have the decency to look a little ashamed of their ambush. Forcing himself to get his shit together, George takes a few deep breaths before he shuts the door and follows everyone into the living room.
Olivia and Jenny have matching stern expressions on their faces, hands on their hips as they glare at George.
“Sit,” Olivia commands, gesturing towards the couch.
It’s then that George notices no one else is sitting down, in fact the four of them have formed a half circle facing the couch where Olivia just demanded he sit.
“What the fuck is this?” George questions as he does as he was told. “An intervention?”
“So you admit that you did something that requires intervention?”
George frowns and Jenny’s question, silently kicking himself for playing into their hand. He was ready to just spout out some bullshit to get them out of his apartment, but clearly they know something is going on and they don’t plan on leaving until they get it out of him.
“Maybe,” he admits, the same feelings of shame and guilt creeping in when he thinks of Y/N and what happened between them. He knows he royally fucked everything up, but he’s at a loss for what to do to try and fix things between them. Y/N was clear that she regretted not fighting for their relationship last time, and George isn’t going to let himself make the same mistake. He just doesn’t know where to go from here.
All he knows is that his plan to keep his head down and focus on hockey has been a complete and utter failure. His skating has been sloppy, his puck control has gone out the window and every time he steps on the ice he’s counting down the minutes until he can go home and crawl into his sheets that still smell like Y/N.
“Spill, now,” Olivia demands.
And so he does. Because these people are his family, and he knows they’ve come to care about Y/N too, and if he has any shred of hope for getting Y/N back he’ll take all the help he can get. Even if it means letting everyone know what an utter idiot he’s been over the last few months.
He starts all the way at the beginning, back when he let his insecurities get the better of him and he broke things off with Y/N. George tells them about the pain, and how he buried himself into hockey to ignore all of it, and his promise to never love another woman again. When he gets to the conversation he had Morris had in the off season and the scheme he cooked up with Fred George’s eyes drop to the floor, not wanting to see the things the others are feeling.
George tells them about how somewhere along the way he fell in love with Y/N for real, and his sole focus became making sure she felt the same way too. He made sure to emphasize how little he cared about being named Captain, that he would have happily been benched for the rest of his career if it meant he had the girl of his dreams by his side.
Leading them all the way up to now, how he had lied to Y/N about being named Captain so he had enough time to really be sure she’d want to make their arrangement something real. And how on the very day he planned on coming clean, his brother had accidentally spilled the beans and she discovered his lie and betrayal. He tells them all about how hurt Y/N looked that day, and how he just let her walk away.
He keeps his eyes downcast as he finishes his story, and they all just stand there in silence.
Until Adam laughing breaks through.
“You’re something else, Weasel, holy shit.”
The grunt he makes when Jenny slaps his stomach makes George finally look up, and he’s surprised and relieved to see that no one looks mad at him.
“You guys aren’t mad?”
“Oh I’m pissed that you lied to us,” Olivia starts, but there isn’t any malice in her voice. “And I’m pissed that you screwed things up with Y/N. But clearly you regret your actions and you’re hurting, so I can be pissed at you after.”
“After?”
“After we help you fix things with Y/N,” Jenny responds as if the answer is obvious. “Making you get on your knees and beg for our forgiveness is only satisfying if you don’t look like an abused puppy while you do it.”
“Gee thanks,” George huffs, rolling his eyes. But for the first time since Y/N walked out on him George feels something other than despair.
He feels hope.
-
The first step of her new plan involves watching the final Rebel’s preseason game, even though Y/N isn’t totally sure she’s ready to see George again. Even if it is through the TV.
But if what Fred said is true and George has isolated himself from the people around him she needs to make sure that he’s okay. That his heart is still beating and he’s still breathing. Confirmation of life, if you will.
Again, she’s got to quit watching so much Criminal Minds.
From the moment George steps out onto the ice it’s clear he isn’t himself. The one place George has always been sure of himself is the rink, but the man wearing his jersey is far from the confident man Y/N expected to see. As she watches him warm up it’s clear there’s no passion behind his movements, like he’s out there playing because he has to be and not because he wants to be.
It’s the last preseason game and they’re on their own turf, George should be flying high. But from the looks of it he’d rather be anywhere but the stadium. It makes her sick, knowing that even the sport he loves isn’t enough to bring him comfort, and Y/N wishes she could make all that pain go away.
She’s tempted to turn the TV off, she got a glimpse of him to confirm he is still in fact alive, and now can go about her evening doing just about anything else. But she can’t find it in herself to grab the remote and change the station. Despite his clear lack of enthusiasm George looks beautiful out on the ice, and she can’t look away. Y/N decides to at least watch the first period, figuring George will shake off his funk and show up for his teammates.
Unfortunately Y/N has never been more wrong in her life.
George misses passes that he should be able to capture in his sleep, and the few attempts he makes on goal are sloppy and miss the mark by a mile. Clearly his mind is elsewhere, and Y/N feels consumed with guilt, knowing that she’s the reason why George is acting this way. This was supposed to be their season, but how are the Rebel’s supposed to take it all the way with a Captain who’s barely holding it together.
Luckily the Rebels manage to keep it held together until they’re halfway through the second period. Despite George’s shitty playing they’ve scored two goals, keeping them tied with New York. And as Geore skates out for his next shift he almost looks like his old self. Each of his movements are sharp and sure, and even though the camera isn’t zoomed in on his face Y/N can tell there’s a look of determination painted on it.
She’s actually feeling hopeful that he’s managed to pull it together as George faces off against the opposing center for the puck drop. From the angle of the camera it’s apparent that New York’s center is chirping at George for the hundredth time tonight, though Y/N can’t really tell what’s being said. Luckily George is used to it, and he’s always good about ignoring the bullshit and letting their defensemen take care of it.
Except George clearly isn’t himself, because the second the Ref blows the whistle George is dropping his gloves and taking a swing at the player across from him. Y/N gasps as blood sprays from the other player’s nose, a weird mixture of shock and arousal thrumming through her veins.
New York’s center drops his own gloves then, and their fight is in full swing. George grabs onto his opponent’s jersey, yanking him closer so he can land another hit to his face. The Ref’s let them exchange some blows, but as their teammates start to get involved whistles start to blow, and Y/N is on the edge of her seat as George disappears under a pile of fighting hockey players.
It takes several moments for the Refs to pull everyone apart, but since George and New York’s center were the catalysts they are the only two who receive a penalty. He only receives five minutes, and her stomach turns as a Ref leads George to the sin bin. There’s blood dripping down the corner of his mouth, and she can’t help but notice how swollen and bloody his knuckles are as he wipes it away.
Even once his penalty is up, George doesn’t get back on the ice until the game is almost over. Luckily he’s kept his hands to himself, and that same determined glare still graces his features as he nabs the puck at the face off. The game is tied up still, and Y/N doesn’t even breathe as the Rebel’s take the puck down the ice towards New York’s goal. The clock is swiftly ticking down, and they have the opportunity to go into the regular season undefeated.
There were about a dozen different times that Y/N considered switching the game off as she watched, too nervous to keep watching the absolute shit show going on but still feeling the need to support George, even if it’s from her couch and not the stands. But as the clock ticks down and George slaps the puck into the back of the net, scoring both his first point and the game winning point, her heart swells and she’s thankful that she stuck it out.
Because instead of joining his team in celebrating, George raises his stick towards the camera pointed at him, mouthing the words she’s gotten used to seeing again.
“That was for you.”
Y/N doesn’t even realize she’s crying until the tears drip off of her chin and land on her lap. Despite having no idea that she’s watching, and playing the worst game of his career, George dedicated his goal to her.
If that wasn’t enough to prove to her that what she and George had was anything but fake, the post game interview he gives leaves no room for doubt.
“You certainly weren’t playing like yourself out there, George, care to comment on what was going on tonight?”
George grunts, and Y/N can tell that the question pisses him off. “My head just wasn’t in it, but I think New York’s center knocked it back into place,” he jokes, trying to make light of the situation.
“Does it have anything to do with the mystery woman you’ve been spotted with recently? Who is this woman who managed to capture your heart and has you dedicating all of your goals to her?” Another reporter asks once called on.
Y/N figured George is going to deflect the question just like he always does, so she’s surprised when a genuine smile takes over his scowl.
“That mystery woman would be, Y/N. She’s the woman who always pushes me to be the best version of myself, the only voice I hear in my head when I’m out on the ice. The woman that I love.”
Y/N’s breath catches in her throat at his honest answer, and her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest as George looks dead into the camera and continues.
“Baby if you’re watching, and God I really hope you are or I’m about to make a fool of myself on national television, I’m so sorry. I messed up, and I plan on spending every day of the rest of my life making it up to me if you’ll let me. I love you, please come home.”
Suddenly there isn’t a doubt in her mind: George Weasley is completely and irrevocably in love with her and Y/N isn’t going to stop until he knows that she feels the same.
-
George feels like he might pass out.
It’s been a little over a week since he confessed his love for Y/N on national television and he hasn’t heard a peep from her. He figures it’s because she wasn’t watching the game, because he can’t bear to think that her silence is because she doesn’t feel the same. That’s a depressive spiral he doesn’t have the time or the energy to deal with.
Instead he’s focused on the plan he, Olivia and Jenny came up with. He plans on saying the exact same thing during his post game interview tonight, win or lose, and if that doesn’t work he’ll be on a flight to Washington next week in between games to make his love declaration in person.
George may have joked last week that fighting with New York’s Center knocked his head back on right, but there was some actual truth to that statement. Because he had been playing like shit, and after the fight the only thing he could think of is how upset Y/N would be if she were watching the game. Not only was he playing like shit, but he was acting like an asshole and letting his whole team down, and that version of George he wants her to see. Olivia and Jenny had helped him get his priorities straight and figure out how he needed to start mending things with Y/N, but it was up to him to actually put that plan into place. And playing like shit and getting into fights was not the way to do that.
Y/N truly is constantly pushing George to be the best version of himself, because he wants to be the guy who deserves to be loved by someone as amazing as her. And it really is her voice in his head out there on the ice, because succeeding in his career is going to allow him to give Y/N the life she deserves. And he really does love her, more than he’s ever loved anything.
He’s done feeling sorry for himself, he knows what he wants and he’s not going to stop until he gets it.
The first part of that involved a huge apology to his team, and a promise that he’s done being a fuckhead and he’ll be on the top of his game when they skate out onto that ice tonight. It’s the first game of the season and it’s at home: a lethal combination and anything other than a crushing defeat of the other team is not an option.
Especially when Coach comes into the locker room before warmups, getting ready to make the big announcement that they’ve all been waiting for.
“Alright, settle down, settle down.” Morris’ voice booms out, causing everyone to instantly quiet. “Now after Crawford retired I know there’s been lots of whispers about who would take his place as Captain. And a lot of time and effort has gone into this decision, it’s not something anyone has taken lightly, especially the man who we’ve chosen for the job. I’ve watched this man work endlessly to be the best player out on the ice for years, and recently I’ve seen him work just as hard to be the best man off of the ice too. Which is why I’m honored to announce the next Captain of the Rebels, number thirteen, George Weasley.”
The team whoops and cheers as George makes his way over to where Morris is standing, a brand new jersey with a capital C in his hands. The guys slap his back and ruffle his hair as he goes, and he feels overwhelmed with how much the team cares and supports him. He shakes Morris’ hand before taking the jersey from him, holding it up for all of the guys to see.
“Speech! Speech! Speech!” Thomas starts chanting, with Adam joining in. Pretty soon half the team is shouting, and George waves his hand to quiet them down.
“Jesus, fuck you guys are annoying,” he teases as they start to settle down. “I just wanna start by thanking Coach and everyone who made this decision, it honestly was an honor just to even be considered. This team is my family, and I’m ready to fight alongside all of you this season to bring that Cup home. So let’s get out there on that ice and show them what it means to be a Rebel!”
The team gets rowdy again as George takes off his old jersey, slipping the new one over his gear. It’s gametime then, and as they all line up to exit the tunnel George feels more ready than he ever has. This is going to be their season, and he’ll have Y/N fighting right alongside him if he has anything to say about it.
The announcer’s booming voice echoes through the tunnel as he announces Texas’ team, and the boys start to bounce around as it gets closer and closer to being their turn out onto the ice. One by one as their names are called the guys flood out onto the ice, ramped up by the loud cheers radiating throughout the stadium.
Like usual George is last in line, and as he gets closer and closer to stepping out onto the ice he takes a deep breath, silently praying that Y/N is watching.
“And you’re starting Center and new team Captain number thirteen George Weasley!”
The screams are deafening as George steps out onto the ice, joining the team in their starting lap around the ice. He lets his eyes scan out over the crowd, just taking a moment to let everything sink in. Everything he’s worked for has been leading up to this, and he wants to commit it all to memory. The only thing that would make this night better is knowing that Y/N is there in the crowd to cheer him on too.
Which is why he has to do a double take as they make their way past home bench, because even though he’s sure about what he saw it may have just been a trick of the lights he needs to be sure. And sure enough when he looks again, three rows back sandwiched between Olivia and Jenny is Y/N, a huge grin on her face as their eyes lock.
George stops in his tracks at the sight of her, barely able to comprehend how she’s here.
“Hey Captain!” Y/N shouts, though George reads it from her lips. His mouth drops open as Y/N stands up and turns around, showing off the jersey she has on. Because embroidered above the large number thirteen on the center of her back are the words, Mrs. Weasley.
He can barely believe his eyes, and just as he’s about to throw himself over the boards to get to her Thomas is grabbing the back of his jersey, pulling him towards center ice so they can line up for the national anthem.
“Chill your shit, lover boy! You can make up with your woman later, we’ve got a game to win!”
George spares Y/N one last look before he follows behind Thomas, slipping into a state of complete and utter focus. Because with his girl in the stands, wearing their last name, winning is the only option.
-
George has never hated all the bullshit that comes with being a professional athlete more than he does right now. Usually he doesn’t mind all the media and the post game discussions, but knowing that Y/N is somewhere in this arena waiting for him makes George want to crawl out of his skin to get to her.
Luckily, after what feels like an eternity he’s storming out of the locker room, his dress shirt barely buttoned up and soaking wet from his hair that he didn’t take the time to dry. He doesn’t care that he probably looks like a crazed animal, all he cares about is getting to her. Which is why he doesn’t realize how familiar the voice that’s calling his name is, and he doesn’t notice the person running full speed at him is Y/N until she’s practically right there in front of him.
He barely has time to drop the hockey bag slung over his shoulder and open his arms before Y/N is barrelling into him so hard it takes all of his strength and balance to keep them upright. Her face presses into the juncture of his neck while her arms twine around it, and George immediately wraps his own around her middle. He grips her tightly as Y/N hooks her legs around his hips, letting her warmth seep into his chest.
“Baby,” he murmurs, nose pressed to her hair as he takes a deep breath in. His knees start to quiver from how good she smells, and George squeezes her even tighter. “You’re here, I can’t believe it.”
Y/N pulls away so she can look at George, the huge smile on her face reflected back at her on his. “How could I not be? Not after you asked me to come back home on national television.”
George chuckles, his cheeks flushing. “So you did see that, huh? When I didn’t hear from you afterwards I thought maybe you missed it. Or you saw it and it didn’t change anything for you.”
“I did see it, and it didn’t change anything for me.” The look that takes over George’s face makes her stomach sink, and Y/N twists her fingers in the damp hair at the back of his head. “Because I was already planning on coming back home to you, George. George Weasley I have loved you since I was six years old and you let me drag you down to the ice every time I stumbled and fell down. Even the time we spent apart did nothing to squash how much I love you. The whole reason I agreed to be your fake fiancé is because I hoped this could be our second chance at a future together. And the second I walked out of that door I wanted to turn around and run right back to you. I let you get away from me once and I’ll be damned if I make the same mistake twice.”
“Baby,” George breathes, tipping his head down so their foreheads are pressed together. “I am “so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you that night about what Coach and I talked about. I was scared that I was running out of time, and you’d be back on a plane to Washington before I could tell you the truth. I love you, Y/N, and I plan on loving you for the rest of my life.”
“I love you too.”
She squeals as George suddenly spins them in a circle, not stopping until her back is pressed against the wall and she’s pinned beneath him. George leans in, just barely letting their lips touch.
“Say it again.”
Y/N grins. “I love you, George.”
Finally George leans in and kisses her, their mouths fitting together so perfectly it’s as if they were made to match. Some of his teammates have started to filter out, but neither of them cares about the whoops and hollers that start to surround them. George’s kiss is possessive and claiming, and Y/N finds herself whining as he breaks them apart.
“We better head down to the courthouse tomorrow,” George murmurs, earning him a shocked giggle.
“And why is that?”
“Well according to that jersey you’re wearing, you’re Mrs. Weasley,” George teases, nudging their noses together. “And I’m done with all of the faking and the lies, aren’t you?”
Y/N nods, sighing in relief when George kisses her again. “Yeah, I am.”
#george weasley#george weasley imagine#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley fan fic#george weasley x reader#george weasley x y/n#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter au#gw#golden
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4 other lestappen fics after this one? 😏
hehehe well now you've done it!!!!
behold, the other fics in waiting, including snippets from what I've already written of them.
in likely posting order, they are:
Post Aus GP fic where Max and Charles have been hooking up casually for a while and they both need to let some steam out after the race. daddy kink!
"Charles doesn’t text Max back until just past midnight.
It’s a little earlier than Max expected, really. Back when every win for the team was hard fought, Max usually didn’t stumble back to his hotel until after the sun rose.
Then again, if the team won, it was usually because it was him. Not his teammate. The circumstances are different.
Charles replies with a room number, then says, I’m already back. Come when you can.
Max see’s no point in waiting around—he’s been itching for this for hours, and Charles probably knows it. Instead, he quietly pushes back the sheets of his bed and slips out. He puts jeans on over his boxers, and then pulls on a sweatshirt, and pretends he can’t see Kelly watching him in the low light of his lit up phone screen.
She doesn’t say anything when he slips the hotel key in his pocket, nor when he walks out the door, so Max doesn’t either. He knows she more than suspects he’s having an affair, but he’s not sure she know who it’s with. By now, she’s surely clued in to the fact that it’s somebody associated with F1 and who is always wherever he is."
hanhaki au where Hanahaki is a chronic illness developed when one keeps their feelings/emotions inside, and Max and Charles are both suffering from it.
"“You really haven’t spoken to him?” Daniel asks as Max picks the next track.
Max rolls his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he tries to figure out how to answer.
“I didn’t really want to talk to anybody after I was diagnosed,” he says eventually, hoping it’s enough to sate both Daniel and his own symptoms. His chest always gets tight when he talks about Charles these days, no matter how honest he is. Francois says it’s because he’s been living with the disease for a long time, now; that Hanahaki is degenerative, and soon he might not even be able to think about Charles in passing without coughing up flowers.
“Sure, but Charles isn’t you,” Daniel answers. “He’s a yapper. It’s how he processes things. And being about to talk to someone who actually understands would be extra helpful, I’m sure.”
Max knows all of that, obviously. He’s in love with the man—of course he knows it.
Max just . . . doesn’t know how to be that person for him. He doesn’t know how to be comforting, he wasn’t built for it. He was built for ruthlessness, precision, for seeking out weakness and using them to his advantage."
fake Max autobiography that he releases in 2033. parts of the story are how the people he used to be friends with (so people on the current grid) react to what he reveals in the book, and then one who chapter is just a whole fake chapter from the memoir. that's the chapter I've written, so here's a piece from it!
"I don’t think there’s anything I can really do to make up for what I did to Charles. He and I haven’t spoken since I retired, in case you were wondering.
Even the email exchange I talked about earlier actually went through our managers.
Honestly, I don’t even think I deserve his forgiveness. He put up with me when no-one else would, loved me fully and completely, put me back together, tore me apart, then put me back together again.
In some ways, I think he saved me.
In other ways, he saved himself from me.
I’m endlessly grateful for both.
I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I can recognise now that a lot of my behaviours were because of the trauma I experienced at the hands of my father. I can also recognise that I need to take responsibility for them, because I was a grown adult making decisions of my own free will.
I’m paying my penance for it, regardless.
There is no chance that I will ever love anybody the way I loved Charles. It’s just too unlikely, that I could be lucky enough to meet a second person on this planet that made me feel like he did.
But you don’t need to feel pity. You don’t need to be angry with me, either. I can assure you, I do plenty enough of both for all of us.
And I’m fine. Life is fine. I’m far from unhappy.
I know what I sacrificed. I know what I gave up. I know what I traded, to win what I won, to have what I do.
And if there is one lesson my father taught me that I’m grateful for, it’s this:
I know that I can bear a burden."
finally, a body swap!au in which Charles wishes to be World Champion, and instead body swaps with Max.
"“Make your decision, Mister Leclerc,” Althea says, not even looking up at him as she continues to sort her things. “Do you want to be Champion?”
Charles’ breath hitches in his chest.
“Yes,” he says decisively. He knows he can pick a secret that will satisfy Althea without it being life-destroyed. “Do I tell you the secret now?”
He sifts through his memories, trying to come up with something he might be comfortable sharing.
But all that comes up are things he would never say; how he’d once told Arthur that their parents didn’t love him and then felt terrible when his little brother had burst into tears; that he’d cried after having sex with a girl for the first and only time because he’d so desperately wished he could just like it and be normal; that he’d told Jules that he was in love with him and Jules had awkwardly patted his head and said it was probably just a crush and that he’d get over it, and, worse, that Jules had been right and he’d moved his attentions to a boy his own age by the end of the week; the terrible, awful, things he feels for—
Althea inhales sharply, eyes sliding closes.
“Yes,” she breathes. “That.”
Charles rips his hand away from hers, breathing deeply. “You—can you—”
She raises a brow at him, pressing her red-painted lips together.
“Get out of my head,” he commands hotly, standing up so fast his chair falls back, slamming against the ground."
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Cryptid Crawl! 7
“You… aren’t a cryptid,” said the man who’d been chasing Danny for literal miles.
“What?” demanded the other unbelievable human being, who hadn’t been all that far behind the first guy. “Did these guys hire you to make us look bad?”
“Uh, no?” said Danny, who realized he’d said it like a question. “No,” he repeated, more confidently, because this was the plan. “I am making you look bad freelance.”
“That’s the wrong word, dude,” said Tucker.
“It’s pro bono,” corrected Sam.
“Pro bono.” He nodded. “Like Peter Parker.”
“Still the wrong thing.”
“What does Spider-Man have to do with this?”
“We both wear cool costumes and have our pictures taken, duh,” said Danny, not mentioning the superhero thing. He started to peel the contacts out of his eyes.
“What are you doing going around dressed like the Amity Park Phantom, then?”
Danny snorted. “There is no Amity Park Phantom. It’s just me and sometimes my friends messing around.”
Crawly’s face turned dangerously furious. “It’s what?”
“This is like…” He waved his hand vaguely. “A prank? Follow people around, spook them a little? It’s something we do sometimes, for the bit.”
“The bit? What do you mean, the bit?”
“For the joke. You don’t think Amity Park is really haunted, do you?” Danny rolled his eyes theatrically. “I was going to do the same thing today, but then you started chasing me.” He pointed accusingly at Bill. “Like, you chased me for blocks. It freaked me out.” That last bit was hardly even a lie.
“Uh,” said Bill. “Sorry?”
“I mean, I guess it’s your job, but–”
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Az, who had lost a great deal of his for-television veneer. “If you’re not a ghost, how were you running that fast? How were either of you running that fast? That kind of speed isn’t possible for normal humans!”
“Yeah, duh, that’s because Bill is an ex-military super-spy!” said Crawly, leaning on Bill’s shoulder.
“I’m retired from the spy business, actually.”
“That’s not the point!” said Az, throwing his hands up in the air. He then pointed accusingly at Danny. “You!” he said. “Do you have any idea how this’ll affect our ratings? I can’t afford to go job hunting again! No one will hire Jimmy! He doesn’t talk!”
“Oh, yeah,” said Danny, unzipping the top part of the fake hazmat suit so he could shrug halfway out of it and tie the arms around his waist, “where are the other two stooges?”
Az spun on the spot and stalked away, followed by a good deal of the camera crew. Then he came back, dragging his brother and Jimmy with him. Danny’s eyes met with Jimmy’s.
Danny’s ghost sense started to go off– And he swallowed it. No breathing a bunch of weird blue fog in the middle of a sunny spring day on camera. Nope. Danny had to admit he was impressed, though. That was a very realistic human disguise.
“You,” said Az, “are getting interviewed, and you,” he turned his baleful finger at Crawly, “are getting off our set.”
“What set? This is an abandoned lot. You can’t make us do anything.”
They started bickering.
Apart from one of the hosts being a ghost, and the others being bizarre enough that Danny was wondering if they would fit in in Amity Park, this was actually going quite well. Neither show would have a coherent enough episode to make Amity Park interesting to any wannabe ghost hunter tourists. Or cryptid hunters. Whatever.
Gosh, the only thing they needed now was for the UFO hunters to come out of the woodwork. Or was Hannah enough of one to fulfill that category all by herself?
Before Danny could decide, a massive pillar of green light originating from a couple miles away lit up the sky. The sky howled and pulsed.
“What the hell was that?” demanded Az. “You guys saw that, too, right?”
“Yep,” said Ned.
“Hmm,” said Jimmy.
“Bill,” said Crawly, “I think this trip just became worth it again.”
They all left.
“What,” said Danny, “was that?”
“Uh,” said Tucker, “I’m working on it. Get Ember.”
“Ember?”
“Or Desiree or someone else who can either cause a massive distraction or unscrew reality because I am–” there was a crashing sound. “
“I’ll get her,” said Jazz.
Danny jumped. “Have you been listening the whole time?”
“Yeah, but it’s busy here, so sue me. I’ll talk to Ember, just tell me what you need.”
“Hey, Danny!”
“Dani!” exclaimed Danny, looking up. “Val!” He paused. “Are you sure you should be hoverboarding this close to the cameras?”
“Shut up,” said Val, “we’re here to give you a ride to whatever that was.”
“I’m on my way, too,” said Sam. “Hold on, there, Tucker.”
.
Danny, Val, and Jazz arrived to see most of the Groovy Ghost Blasters Extreme unconscious and stuck to various walls with bright green goo and Tucker trying to hack the GAV and Danny’s parents nowhere in sight.
“Where are Mom and Dad?” asked Danny, jumping off Valerie’s board. Valerie tapped her heels together, retracting the board as soon as he was off.
“Chasing the tiger. Apparently they think it’s a ghost.”
“Great,” said Danny, rubbing his hand down over his face. “Sam’s not going to be happy about that.” He jogged over to the Groovy Ghost Blasters Extreme and started checking vitals. “Everyone looks alive.” Now, he should get them off the wall and to a hospital or something. Getting knocked out wasn’t generally good for people…
“What should I do?” asked Dani.
“Uh,” said Danny. “I don’t know, Tucker? What was your plan?”
“Uh,” said Tucker. He pointed at a trailer that held the ruins of several vehicles. “Stage.” He pointed at the smoking holes in the street. “Mist from black ice?” He pointed at the GAV. “Lighting and sound system? I don’t know, man. I’m just making things up. There’s no way we can hide this on our own.”
“The hunters are getting closer,” said Sam. “It’d be great if I had some help slowing them down.”
“Okay,” said Danny, “okay.” He ran over to the GAV and used his handprint to sign in. Most of the controls were still locked out for him - no driving license - but it got Tucker that little bit forward. “Uh, then, Dani, you fill up anything smoking with dry ice, Val, you and me, we need to get those guys to a hospital.”
“I think I’ll have to do that myself,” said Val, “unless you have a hoverboard.”
“To cut them out,” said Danny, producing a pair of Fenton Scissors from his pocket and walking over. “Otherwise, that stuff won’t come off unless you take a wall with it.” He spoke from unfortunate experience. Usually, he’d just phase them out, but… witnesses.
Things had been going so well, too.
.
“Babypop is letting me perform in his precious city?” asked Ember, eyebrow raised.
“Assuming you do it fast, yes,” said Jazz, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. She was covered in flour, eggs, butter, batter in various states of mixture, and icing. “You know that your performances were never the problem. The problem was the mind control.”
“But he’s suddenly okay with it now?”
“He’s got to hide the results of a ecto-gun fight between our parents and trigger happy ghost hunters. Tucker thinks their ATV trailer could be covered up as a stage.”
“And why should I? If Amity becomes famous, maybe some of that spills over. More people to hear me play. More people to shout my name.”
“Do you want to be famous in your own right, because of your music, or because you’re a ghost?” snapped Jazz.
“What do you think, babe?” asked Ember, leaning back towards the rest of the ghosts.
“Do it, and show them the error of underestimating you!” said Skulker, around a mouthful of cake, and how did that even work, exactly? Jazz just… ugh. She didn’t want to know.
“Okay, yeah, sounds good. I’ve performed on worse. I’ll take a look.”
.
“Maybe we should call an ambulance, actually,” said Danny. Getting knocked out like this and staying knocked out was generally a bad sign.
“And screw things up for whatever friend you’ve got coming to turn this into some kind of rock show?” asked Valerie.
“It’s just Fenton Sleeping Gas,” called Tucker. “According to the weapons logs, anyway.”
Danny briefly looked skyward. “Why do they even have that? I swear…”
“I have Ember on her way, better get Valerie out of there.”
“Yeah,” said Danny, “just, uh. Dani! Help Val carry these guys, will you?”
Dani dropped another chunk of ice into a hole. “On it!”
“Cool, cool, cool,” said Tucker. “There’s so much stuff. Why is there so much stuff?”
Danny wasn’t sure if he was talking about the code in the GAV, the weapons in the GAV, or the debris scattered all over the road. In any case, there was a lot of stuff.
But Valerie was flying off, and… “Sam, do we have an ETA on those guys?”
“You’re lucky they didn’t have cars,” said Sam. “Halfway there.”
“Thanks.” Danny transformed and started pushing stuff out of the way. He also did the fastest structural ice-work of his life, covering up the trailer and making it look more stage-like. He hid several of the gaping holes in the street– hopefully being filled with ice wouldn’t make them worse– and worked on putting out the few fires that were still going, despite Dani’s ice.
Then he paused and surveyed his work. It looked…
… Bad.
Genuinely, there was no way around it.
“Oi, babypop!” called Ember from above. “What’re you doing chilling out when it’s time to rock on?”
Smiling at Ember was a new experience for Danny. Maybe–
“Hey, uh. That one terrifying camera guy is fighting a tiger, now, what do I do?”
The tiger. The one his parents had been chasing.
“Sorry, got to go!” he shouted.
“Are you ditching me?” demanded Ember.
“It’s not you,” said Tucker, “it’s the tiger.”
.
“That’s a tiger,” said Ned. He might have been more concerned about the situation if the tiger wasn’t running away from Bill.
“Hng,” said Jimmy.
“Genuinely a tiger. Just a tiger.”
“Hm,” said Jimmy.
“You know what? I’m done.”
“Yes! Get it, Bill! If we can’t have a cryptid we can at least get an anomalous big cat!”
“Hm?”
“Just done. Done with this, done with the show, done with everything. I want to retire and work on classic cars.”
“You can’t retire,” hissed Az, who was hiding behind Jimmy. “You’re in your thirties! And we don’t know what that light was, yet!”
Ned was very tempted to say screw the light.
Behind him, the producer attempted and failed to call animal control.
“Fine, we can go see what the light was about, but if we get there and it’s a kid in an iceberg–”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, like you never watch cartoons.”
“Yes! Yes! Now zoom in on its face. I’ve never seen a tiger like this before, maybe it’s endangered!”
.
“Please, please set up,” begged Tucker. “Please start playing.”
“Uh, no,” said Ember, crossing her arms. “I’m not performing for an empty street.”
“You said–”
“I’d said I’d take a look. So here I am. Looking.”
“Ember,” squeaked Tucker. “Come on. You got free cake.”
“For staying hidden, yeah. But that’s not my point, geek squad. Don’t you think that me playing to absolutely no one would be suspicious? No way this is a concert. It’s a special effects test for later this week. And you’d better believe that later this week, I’ll be collecting.”
.
Danny flashed into visibility in front of his parents and prepared himself for a very long chase.
.
They eventually got hold of animal control.
.
“No, you can’t be here. I’ve got it cleared with the city to test this stuff, and it’s proprietary. You’re lucky security is on break, so you’d better get your stupid cameras out of here before they get back.”
“But the light–” started Az.
“Pro. Pri. E. Tary. What. Part. Don’t. You. Get. Little T, how’s your martial arts class going, can you kick these guys out?”
“Uh,” said Tucker, who was honestly sort of impressed by Ember’s whole performance, improvised as it was. But then, he supposed she had practice. It must be hard getting a venue when you were dead and had no money. Between how she’d altered the stage with her powers and what she was saying now, they might be able to pull this off. “Maybe?” He sized up the tallest of the three ‘Investigators.’ “Probably not, actually.” Not without weapons, anyway.
“Whatever, it’s not like that’s what I pay you for.”
“You know what?” asked Az, who was, at this point, staring dead-eyed into space. “I’m done. Let’s go get cake.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since we got here,” said Ned.
“Cake,” said Jimmy.
“Oh, crud,” mumbled Tucker.
“What?” said Sam. He could see her head peeking out of an alley a few blocks down. “Are they not buying it?”
“Worse,” whispered Tucker. “They’re going for cake.”
.
“Hey,” said Crawly, as the tiger was loaded into the truck by animal control. “This might have been a bit of a bust, but we can still go get cake.”
“Any day where I get to wrestle a cryptid tiger is a good day,” said Bill.
“Uh,” said one of the animal control people. “It’s a regular tiger, just albino.”
Crawly held up a finger. “Hush, you.”
#danny phantom#dannymay#dannymay 2023#dannymay 2023 day 23: rogues gallery#they're in there#i promise they're there#sort of#barely
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Hannibal lector x reader - unravelled
Part 3:
Walking into the coffee shop, you smiled at the waitress as she brought over a cup of coffee for you.
“We haven’t seen you around for a while (Y/N).”
“Sorry Sophia, I’ve been so busy. I did miss your coffee though.”
Sophia laughed a little bit, tapping you lightly on the head with the tray she was holding in her hands.
“That’s because I make a kick ass coffee.”
You chuckled a little bit, leaning back in your chair as you looked up at her, giving her a gentle smile and she smiled back at you.
“I really have missed you, please come back…” she whispered.
“I can’t Sophia, I’m sorry. But I need to find this Doctor Peters.”
She sighed.
“I’ve actually been looking into that.”
Sophia sat on the chair in front of you, setting the tray on the table.
“We know it was an alias, there was never any doctor Peters at that hospital, except because they failed to run the right background checks they refuse to take it to law enforcement.”
You gave her a slight confused look.
“They’re telling anybody who asks that he retired and moved away.”
You slowly nodded your head.
“Do you know where he is now?”
“No, but we’re still looking for him. If I had to guess though, whoever he was he wouldn’t be far, either still in the city or one of the surrounding ones, he’d still be nearby.”
“Do we even have a photo of what he looks like?”
“No, he used a fake, heavily applied makeup to resemble it slightly.”
You sighed again, placing your head on your hand as you looked out the window you were sat next to.
People were bustling about, a few investigators were patrolling the streets.
“There’s more.” You noted.
“You aren’t exactly keeping a low profile (Y/N), since the other night there’s been more and more.”
You turned your gaze to her.
“You need to stop this now. Disband them.”
“Not until I’ve got who I want. I’ll go through the entire CCG if I have too.”
“Yeah and get yourself killed!” She hissed.
You looked around, nobody seemed to have heard her so you turned your attention back to her.
“It’s my life. I’m going for a smoke.”
Picking up your cup, you set it on the counter, balancing a plate on the top and made your way outside.
Standing in front of the cafe, you dug through your pockets for a cigarette and a lighter and lit it.
It tasted just about as disgusting as everything else seemed to taste, maybe a little more so, but you didn’t let it put you off.
You took a slow drag, leaning against the wall.
“Well, my suspicions were correct. A smoker.”
You turned your head to the side, watching as Hannibal came walking over, ducking under the doorway to get away from the cold winter air.
“Do you make it a habit to follow your patients Hannibal?”
“No, I was simply just passing by and saw you come outside.”
You hummed a little bit, taking another drag of your cigarette.
“You know those will kill you, they really aren’t healthy for you (Y/N).”
“I know.”
“Then why do you smoke?”
“Maybe I enjoy the fact it destroys me.”
“Self destructive.”
You gave a small shrug.
“Aren’t we all in some way or another?”
You walked to the edge of the street, putting your cigarette out on the trash can, and tossed it inside before walking back over.
Hannibal opened the door for you, allowing you to walk in first and you walked over to your cup, taking the plate off.
“Hey Sophia?”
She hummed, turning around and you pointed to Hannibal who appeared next to you.
“Get him whatever he wants and put it on my tab.”
Sophia nodded her head and you took your cup back over to your table while Hannibal took the seat opposite you.
“I assume you come here often?” He asked.
“Not as often as Sophia would like, but often enough I suppose.”
Hannibal nodded his head, thanking Sofia as he brought his cup of tea over and he turned his attention back to you.
“Did you come here before the accident?”
“No. I used to just walk past it, then early one morning I was wondering around and saw they were open so I decided to come in.”
“I see, what is it that drew you to this place?”
You shrugged a little bit.
“I don’t know, it was warm I guess. It was a really cold morning, and it smelled incredible. Plus Sophia makes a great coffee.”
Hannibal nodded his head.
“What other places do you like to visit? Aside from this cafe and the bar.”
“The flower gardens I suppose, it’s peaceful there, not many people. A few museums, for the same reason they’re pretty quiet at the start of the day.”
“And early riser?”
“A troubled sleeper. Sleep is hard to come by now.”
Hannibal looked at you.
You had your chin resting on your hand as you stared out the window, hair falling over your face, your nails seemed to be painted black, you were a different style ring on each finger of your left hand.
You seemed to prefer smart casual dressing, a white shirt, but no tie.
You had your sleeves rolled down, but the crinkles around them told Hannibal you often wore your shirts with the sleeves rolled up.
“I could prescribe you something in order to help if you so wish.”
“Wouldn’t help, but thank you.”
You tore your gaze from the window, looking over at him.
“What is it that keeps you awake?”
“Nightmares I suppose, about the accident, about what happened after.”
Hannibal slowly nodded his head.
“Is this about the time you went missing?”
“Two months of my life unaccounted for by everybody but me.”
“What is that happened during those two months?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
You smirked a little at him, leaning back in your chair, taking a sip of your coffee.
“You hide yourself behind some rather strong walls, in order to protect yourself.”
“Everybody has things they don’t want people to know Hannibal Lector, you and I are no different from those people.”
“Perhaps not, but who are you really protecting? Yourself, or the person responsible for your change in personality?”
“Don’t worry, that person doesn’t need protecting. I should think he’s had what’s was coming to him.”
Hannibal studied you quietly for a a few seconds.
“How can you be sure?”
“Just a wish I suppose.”
“Do you wish your life had turned out different?”
“Everybody wishes their lives could have turned out different.”
“Will mentioned you enjoyed deflecting topics with indirect answers.”
“What else did will mention?”
“I cannot tell you that, client patient confidentiality.”
You hummed this time.
“He’s a patient of yours, I should have gathered, Will isn’t all that trusting when it comes to people.”
Hannibal nodded his head.
“You know him better than anybody, you grew up together. However it seems like he doesn’t know you at all now, you’re merely just a stranger to him.”
“I’m a stranger to you as well.”
“I know what your files allow me to know. I would like to know you more, know what isn’t in your files.”
You glanced over at Sophia who gestured to the coffee pot and you held out your cup so she could come put more coffee in it for you.
She wondered away and you turned back to Hannibal.
“Why do you want to know me Hannibal Lector?”
“I believe there is a lot going on inside of you that will rot you from the inside out of you do not resolve it.”
“Who says it hasn’t already?”
“Will seems to think there is still time to save you.”
“Will refuses to believe that the person he used to know died a long time ago, in that accident.”
Hannibal took a small breath, taking a sip of his tea.
“Has it really died? Or are your burying it in order to ignore the person you once were? The agent who was run off the road, down the side of a cliff and left to die.”
“Is that what you think happened?”
You downed your coffee, picking up your cup and taking it back to Sophia, leaving some cash on the other side of the counter for her.
Hannibal placed his cup next to yours and followed you outside, walking alongside of you.
“That’s what the records say. What really happened?”
You looked around, putting your hands in your pockets as you turned back to path you were following.
“I wasn’t left to die there. In fact, I got out of the car, I had that much adrenaline running through my veins I couldn’t feel any pain at that point in time, it was like I was watching myself from outside my own body.”
“What did you do?”
“The suspect we were chasing happened to be run off the road as well, her car was trapped under a large tree, the front crushed against a boulder.”
“What did you do (Y/N)?”
“She begged me to save her, she was bleeding out, a branch had lodged itself through her. I pulled it out, and I watched as she bled out and died there, with no regret. I killed her.”
Hannibal glanced down at you.
“You did not kill that woman, her actions led to her death. She died because of what she had done, you had nothing to do with it.”
“I made it so she bled out faster.”
“Do you regret what you have done?”
You glanced up at him to find him already looking at you.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it was either me or her. Truth be told I should have died there too, and yet here I am, tragically alive.”
“You do not want to be alive?”
“I stand on the earth with billions of people, yet it feels as if I am the only one really here.”
You looked away.
“You’re lonely, yet you push everybody away. You want company, yet you force yourself into this isolation you created.”
You stopped by a store, looking at the TVs that were broadcasting the news about the continued lock down of the ward, and the hell hounds being spotted in the forth ward taunting the CCG.
Hannibal stopped next to you.
“They enjoy taunting the investigators because they know that the CCG will never be able to enter the three wards they have overrun.” Hannibal said.
“What makes you think that?”
“They’re keeping a border between the second, forth and sixth wards, they directly link into one another, it was why the ghouls easily over took them. Keep those wards apart, the CCG can contain the group and monitor them closely.”
You nodded your head.
“We are all monsters living in a world of monsters.” You said.
Hannibal glanced at your reflection in the glass, and he could see the self hatred in your eyes.
You hated every fibre of your being and he could see that clearly.
You turned around, smiling a little bit at the two investigators that walked past the pair of you.
“It’s dangerous out in the real world Hannibal.”
Hannibal turned to look at you, both of you watching as the investigators began running in the same direction across the road.
“Indeed it is. You should be careful.”
You glanced up at him.
“So should you, don’t go wondering where you shouldn’t be.”
With that, you walked away from him, leaving him to watch as you melted away into the crowd, and he turned back the way he had come.
He knew you visited that cafe often, it was why he went there, and now he was going back to get a feel for the place, and see if he could find anything else about you
#Hannibal#hannibal x reader#Hannibal x you#Hannibal imagine#Hannibal lector#hannibal lector x reader#Hannibal lector x you#Hannibal lector imagine
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What did I do right (to be with you right now)
A/N: I was struck by dad!Poe feels a few days ago on Discord and then this happened, so this is me being soft af about Poe being a great dad and a sweet wonderful husband. Title comes from "Favorite T-Shirt" by Jake Scott.
Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader (no pronouns, but reader is pregnant)
Word Count: 1.4K
CW: Pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, parenthood.
Every single day, Poe confirmed that Kes Dameron was an exact replica of him. It was obvious to anyone's eyes, with matching curls and the same deep beautiful eyes, and when it came to the inside there was no doubt: Kes Dameron is just like his dad, with a big heart and a mind too full of thoughts.
You hadn’t been feeling well, a 5-month-old pregnancy being at fault, and poor little Kes got too worried when he saw his mom leaving the room to go lay down and his dad following behind to make sure you were alright. Kes followed close too, looking at Poe helping you get comfortable before meeting Kes outside your bedroom.
It took Poe one look at Kes to know exactly what was going through his mind. Poe held his hand as they both walked outside to the back of the house, he needed a distraction, and considering his and his son's head worked the same way, he knew just the right thing to do.
“Is mommy okay?” Kes’s little voice asked as they came to a halt, full of concern that reached up to his eyes wide open looking up at his dad. You were okay, more than okay, you were just very much pregnant. The second trimester had hit hard and fast, with waves of dizziness and leg cramps coming out of nowhere that left you down and resting for most parts of the day. To the eyes of a 3-year-old boy, without a doubt, it was a sight worth worrying about.
“Oh, bud. Don’t worry,” Poe kneeled down to his height, meeting Kes eye to eye. “Mommy is alright, but making a baby makes mommy feel sick sometimes.”
“How can we help mommy?” This kid, Poe could see once again, was too much like him: a man of action ready to help.
“We can help mommy by letting her rest, ‘kay?” Poe did his best to try and calm him down. Kes nodded, not quite convinced, but smiling when his dad did it too. “Now come on, let’s climb up.” Poe signaled his head up to his old x-wing, his beloved Black One, now resting in all her retired glory.
“Inside?!” Kes asked with excited eyes.
“Well, you are a big brother now, big brothers need to learn how to fly.” The way Kes’s eyes lit up almost made Poe tear up, his heart swelling with pride. “Come on, up we go.” With a grunt, Poe lifted Kes and placed him inside of the X-Wing. He hopped on after, placing Kes on his lap and reaching for the helmet that rested on the dashboard. It was way too big for Kes’s head, and when Poe placed it there the protective gear hung to the side of his little head.
“Dad! I can’t see anything!” Both of them laughed when Kes turned, the helmet covering half of his face.
“I’m sorry, Commander,” Poe apologized with a fake serious tone that only made both of them laugh more as Poe arranged the helmet so the little boy could see. “Pilots need their helmets while flying.”
“‘m not a commander.” Kes’s hands stuck to his sides, eyes analyzing everything in front of him.
“What do you mean? Kes Dameron is the best pilot in the galaxy.” They shared another laugh before Poe signaled to the front. “Alright, bud, why don’t you press that button over there…” Poe pointed to one of the power buttons, which Kes pressed with unsure chubby fingers while Poe lifted one of the engine levers. The motor started roaring then, and Poe’s stomach fluttered with long-forgotten electricity now also mixed with joy as his kid’s animated laughter filled the cockpit. “There you go! Now, let’s lift it a little bit, ready?”
When Poe grabbed the lever in between their legs, he guided both of Kes’s small hands around his own. He began lifting the ship, just a few feet above the ground, enough for Kes to feel it. “We are flying!” Just the feeling of hovering made the little boy erupt in excited giggles, Poe could never get tired of that sound.
“Yes we are, bud. Just don’t tell mommy, okay?” You were going to kill him if you found out. “Ready to get back to base, Commander Dameron?” Poe asked after a couple of minutes, channeling his General voice.
“Yes, daddy!” His voice was as firm as his father’s, just a tiny bit more high-pitched. They landed the ship with matching smiles and looked at each other. Sometimes, in moments like this, when Poe looked at his life he could not believe how lucky he was.
“That was a very successful mission, Commander, congratulations bud!”
“Again!” Kes couldn’t stop his excitement, no matter how hard he tried.
“Oh, no…” Poe laughed, he was creating a monster. “Maybe some other time. Now let’s go back inside-”
“No! No daddy, please! I want to stay here.” You were definitely going to kill him.
They stayed there, going through every button and trigger, what each one did and how everything worked; they shot the bad guys and Poe told stories about far away planets and being among the stars until, eventually, Kes ended up falling asleep with the helmet on and a smile on his face; that smile brought Poe a comfort different to the one that his ship had always given to him, one that came with peace and home and his beautiful family. So much peace, that maybe he could close his eyes for a little while and take it all in.
That’s how you find your two boys after a while - after the amount of quietness in the house became too much quiet -. The two of them rested calmly inside the X-Wing, a sight you hadn’t seen in so long, one that took you years back to when you were fighting a war. Your stomach fluttered, this time not with nausea, but with so much love you could maybe start crying.
Your hand reached up to Poe’s curls, much shorter now than they were back then, little streaks of grey appearing on some of the tips and roots, but he looked handsome as ever, as he did the day you met him. “Poe,” you whispered when he grunted, his way of showing he was awake. “Hi.”
“Hey.” He whispered back, following your eyes to look at the still-sleeping toddler on his lap. “Are you feeling better?” Your nod made Poe let out a happy sigh. “Kes was getting nervous about you feeling sick, that’s why we came here.”
“Oh, my little boy.” You expressed fondly, your hand resting on top of the helmet. “So you fixed it the only way you knew how.”
“It used to work for me.” Your eyes met with a silent nostalgia on them, with thousands of memories of finding each other in that same spot before battles, after losses, or when you just needed a moment of quiet.
“It worked for him too.” With careful hands you removed the helmet, letting Kes’s head rest more comfortably on Poe’s chest. “Flying never fails, does it?” A guilty smile played on Poe’s lips, one too inviting not to kiss away.
“I thought you wouldn’t hear,” Poe confessed against your lips.
“An X-Wing engine?” You kissed him again, trying to suppress your laugh like that. Poe apologized, an apology that you took with a smile as you played with Kes’s curls. “Did he like it?”
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear his excitement.” He joked, making both of you laugh. “I’m afraid you are going to have to deal with pilots for a little while more.” Poe stretched his neck to kiss you again, not missing the way you smiled and sighed under his touch.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” As if on cue Kes began stretching then, lifting his arms to shake away the sleep. “Good morning, Captain Dameron.” You pushed back his curls, welcoming him with soothing motions. “Let’s go back inside and have a snack, how does that sound?”
Kes nodded as he blinked awake, meeting your face with a tiny smile. “Yeah, but I’m a Commander, mommy!” Kes corrected you, just another confirmation that Kes was definitely his father’s son.
It goes unspoken as both you and Poe laugh and meet each other’s eyes, but after the years you went through together, you often wondered what did you do right to be right there, right now.
**********************
Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!
#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron angst#poe dameron imagine#poe dameron x you#poe x you#poe x reader#poe dameron x y/n#poe dameron au#poe dameron fanfiction#poe dameron fanfic#poe dameron fic
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Do you think Fizz’s career as a performer is over now? Like he potentially has Mammon out for him in the future in terms of slandering his name and trying to prevent him from being hired, but either way Fizz would need to get a new agent or start doing all the promoting, hiring, and set up work it takes to even put on shows himself, which is not easy nor cheap (ie booking venues, hiring and managing staff, getting props, acquiring and caring for necessary animals, rehearsals, etc). Now, Oz could bankroll and manage such things, but were his name to be associated with Fizz’s shows, customers are going to be expecting a very sexually charged performance that Fizz probably isn’t comfortable putting on (and his work at Ozzie’s is really more like emceeing and crowd warmup, not pole dancing or stripping).
Nope, he said this was his last performance after all. He’s retiring from Mammons brand, and taking a break from Ozzies fake sleazy nightclub filled with lies and hypocrisy. Fizz was never this (public) sex maniac at all.
Oz mentioned a vacation and a break at the start. Fizz seemed happy about that idea. And obviously Oz can’t accompany him without jeopardising his own work. They’ll be taking some time apart and might take a look at this codependency issue.
This scene I think foreshadows Fizz travelling to other places, specifically the wrath ring since its the only one that gets a special mention other than lust, and that one cowboy character appears twice in the episode. Fizz also says “Oh, lust! Love it there, obviously” I think this implies he actually doesn’t love it there.
Two things Fizz said to Blitz in Oops was “I now have someone who understands me” but we can clearly see that at almost every turn, Ozzie doesn’t understand him. He doesn’t know why he wanted so badly to go to greed alone, or why he didn’t want an escort, he doesn’t know what his feelings towards blitzø are
Oz: “that guy you hate”
Fizz: “ah, let him have it”
Oz: “excuse me?”
Fizz: “yeah, he earned it”
Oz: “uh, ok?” He’s so confused by this. Doesn’t he hate him?
“His former bestie lifelong enemy recent hero (etc)” also very confusing —I don’t blame him or anything. But no he doesn’t really understand fizz that well.
And again in this episode, he’s arguing with Fizz most of the time, and doesn’t understand why he wants what he does, but just goes along with it when Fizz begs, or looks really disappointed, or if he asks for something.
Second thing Fizz says “my life’s actually been pretty great” That’s not true either! He’s been abused for years, Ozzie was just a break from the still unending abuse (at that point) like the twins say “Money can’t buy you happiness but it can rent you paradise” and I think Fizz is unhappy, but at least is renting paradise with Asmodeus.
Next part—I think Fizz will be leaving the lust ring, Oz has been in hot water for his affair with fizz with the lust citizens. The reason being highlighted in lust ring magazine: Ozzie has a reputation founded entirely on non commital lust, he’s the eternal bachelor, it’s hypocritical to all the people he made fun of and hurt for being in love, for him to turn around and openly be in love himself. I think karma will hit him and he’ll get his own version of what he put Moxxie through. Specifically Asmodeus, Fizz to a lesser extent. Sortve like how Millie wasn’t really mocked. And well finally find out what Ozzies problem is with love, because Fizz definitely isn’t his first ever love, if the demonology is anything to go by. The story of Sarah in the Book of Tobit is Asmodeus’ most famous story so to exclude that would be a disservice to the character.
Yay for independent Asmodeus development! 💙
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Gold rush
Chapter two: She bruises, coughs, she splutters pistol shots, hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks
He was just a few more steps away from becoming a living legend.
Already praised by the media as the honored one, he made a grave mistake which not only put his Ice Hockey career on hold, it disappointed even his most loyal fans so much so that his reputation sank to an all-time low.
Then he meets you; a retired figure skating champion who is now trying to find her purpose in life after her triumphs, all while still being loved and cherished by the media and public likewise.
Satoru Gojo sees his chance to not only get back unto the rink, but also to regain his former popularity.
But he soon realizes it will be a lot harder to get on your good side, because he's everything you despise combined into one person.
Will you give him a second chance and allow him to redeem himself, or is this going to be the match for your life time?
Gojo Satoru x reader (first person narrator)
Ice Hockey AU
FAKE DATING TROPE
Enemies to lovers
English isn't my first language, so expect some grammar errors
18+!!
LINK TO ALL CHAPTERS:
The music stops before repeating the same song over and over again.
I’ve been on the rink the entire morning, waiting for Masamichi to arrive, but he’s not here and I can’t find him at the resort either. I told him over text message I need to talk to him, urgently, before he has his meeting with Satorus crew. He just texted me an emoji of a man skiing back.
Great, when he’s skiing I can never predict when he will be here and I need to show him the pictures beforehand. I don’t want to open this pandora's box in front of Satorus manager and whoever is also on his crew. I just want to show the pictures to Masamichi and have him handle the situation. Maybe he would politely decline their request and they would search for another rink to train. I’m not petty enough to ruin Satorus entire career by ratting him out to his crew. Even though he deserves it and I want to see him lose his cool when he realizes whatever happened yesterday between us was just the tip of the iceberg.
But I tend to let emotions get the best of me, and yesterday while eating my cold burger I kept staring at Satorus autograph and thought to myself I already won against him. I don’t need a rematch. Especially one I knew I had already won.
Masamichi will handle it the mature way and if he decides to snitch on him, then so it will be.
I’ve finished the same skating routine for another time and another one and so on until I can't remember how often I’ve restarted the same program. The music stops as I want to get up from my final pose to start again from the center of the rink. But I get distracted by clapping from the tribune.
I would recognize the sound of this specific applause everywhere.
“Romeo and Juliet, mhm. Didn’t know you are a pair skater now”, my former coach Mei Mei shouts over to me, pressing the pause button on my phone to stop the music. My vision is blurry but I would spot her figure out of millions. She was the one I always focused on during competition. My sight had always searched for her approval.
“And I didn’t know hell allowed its citizens to visit earth”, I just shouted back in response, realizing how out of breath I am. My body aches for a pause, my knees want to give up, but not in front of her. Never.
“Romeo and Juliet is for pairs”, she simply says back. Mei Mei is a person of few words and barely laughs. She likes to get her point across without a lot of chit-chat.
“I disagree.”
“Of course you do. You don’t need another person to sell a love story. Still as presumptuous as ever.”
"Presumptuous, yes, but did it work? Did you buy into my love story?”
I grin at her.
“Did you make this choreo on your own?”, she asks instead.
“Yes, so no need to get jealous.”
“It’s good, it’s different. With a few changes here and there, we could..”, I don’t let her finish her sentences. I know where this is going and I’m not in the mood for a discussion with her.
“I did it for funsies, not for competition.”
“You still land all your jumps, such a waste of talent.”
“What are you even doing here? Don’t tell me you missed me”, I laugh holding onto my knees for support. I overdid it. Fuck, my muscles are about to give up. Just relax, I tell myself and in a few seconds I will have the power to quickly skate out of the rink to sit down.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here for someone else”', her harshness doesn’t hurt me. I’m used to it and I know for a fact that she actually really cares about me. Hard shell, soft core. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself for years.
“Oh, what kind of masochist decides to hire you”, I snicker, gaining my vision back.
“Will you be quiet? You must have forgotten but I made a winner out of you. ”
“And here I am thinking it was my lifelong dedication paired with my blood, my sweat and my tears.”
“Four years later and you’re still a snotty, little brat.”
“Add talented and I agree”, I hear giggling and it’s not from Mei Mei. I look around and see three people at the entrance arch. They are too far away for me to notice details, but I distinguish a woman with a plain black skirt and long brown hair. A man with likewise long hair but darker, and him.
Satoru Gojo.
His white hair I would recognize everywhere. It seems like the other guy was the one who laughed because the woman is sucking on a cigarette, even though it isn’t allowed to smoke in here, and Satoru stares at me with a stone cold face.
Shit, I’ve hoped to never see him again, particular after what happened the night before. Memories from yesterday creep up on me. I feel heat rushing to my ear and places I don’t want to talk about.
“My new client is here”, Mei Mei says in the direction of Satoru.
You gotta be kidding me.
“Hockey, really? Didn’t you say it’s for brutal losers with two left legs?”, I exclaim, watching them walk down the stairs. Mei Mei is a former ice skater but as she herself said, she wasn’t talented enough. So she decided to coach and she is amazing at it. She knows bones and muscles more than any doctor. She can see from a mile away when someone steps on the ground the wrong way or when the legs hit a wrong angle after a jump. No doubt in my mind that she is capable enough to train a wounded hockey player back onto the ice.
“Yes, but money is money, right?”
She is always saying what’s on her mind. Unapologetic. Some clients would find this utterly rude, but they don’t seem to care.
I need to get off the ice and away as fast as possible, but my legs are still shaking. I’m afraid I will fall when I try to skate off. This situation couldn’t get any worse.
So I just follow them down the stairs with my eyes, focused on Satoru, who stares right back at me. No smile, no goofy expression, nothing. It’s like he’s ready to go into the rink for a fight. I’m so focused on him that I first take a look at the other guy as he says: “Hey”, adding my name casually: “Long time no see.”
I just look at him and can’t sort out his face.
“I can’t even be mad at you for not..”, he continues but I screech in a high-pitched voice: “Suguru.”
Right at this moment my left knee gives in and I fall on my side. Gladly I’m used to falling so I know how to save myself to avoid greater damage. Still I fall on my hip and only manage to save my head from hitting the ground by using my elbow to keep my upper body steady. I hit a nerve and it shots right through my limps. I want to scream but it is already embarrassing enough to fall like that, especially after saying a guy's name, so I suffer within.
“I’m fine!”, I say immediately. It hurts, but I’m fine. Maybe it will bruise but I’ve had worse. The only problem is, I can’t get up. The muscles in my left lower thigh start to constrict, making it impossible for me to even get back on my legs. My ass is therefore glued to the ice. I shift my weight to at least get my legs off the cold ground. Of course I’ve decided not to wear tights today, a foolish mistake.
“You forgot to eat your banana!”, I hear Mei Mei scream. I can’t remember the last time I ate a banana, but whenever my muscles were exhausted, Mei Mei would tell me to eat more bananas. “I will get you”, I hear Suguru say. I’m glad he’s the one offering me help, yet I still tell him I’m good, I don’t need any help.
Suguru Geto.
He was the captain of the university ice hockey team, which used to train on this rink before Yaga cut the contract a year after Suguru had graduated and moved to play for the Boston Bruins. He was a heartthrob and probably still is. I can further remember all these college girls giggling on the tribune as they were watching him train. My initial thought was, he would be an arrogant ass, like most hockey players.
But Suguru was different. He was nice to everyone. He laughed at every joke his teammates told him, he greeted everyone who walked past him and he listened and was actually interested in every conversation he had with fans.
We saw each other while he was on the rink, because even when the rink was occupied, I spent my entire day in the hall. Usually I was reading and occasionally looked over to him. It seemed like ice hockey was created for him. With such an ease he ruled the rink and demolished his opponents. But most importantly he had truly fun, something I rarely had on the ice. For me skating was all about winning and keeping my mind occupied. I trained so hard that my brain couldn’t hold a thought for longer than a second. Everything was about skating. Nothing else was invited in my mind.
I was jealous of him in a weird way.
He was allowed to sometimes come over when the rink was closed to skate, because my mother liked him. She didn’t hold animosity against ice hockey players, unlike me. One time she said Suguru reminds her of my father and I laughed at her. My mother had her delusional moments. There is nothing good about my father.
There is so much good about Suguru.
Suguru and I often sat at the same bench but never really talked and I think he was glad we didn’t. Whenever I saw him with his team, he was surrounded by people who wanted something from him, so he must have enjoyed the silence we shared. It’s not like I wanted to talk with him anyway. I didn’t have time for friends, much less for boys. But we greeted each other and sometimes he told me how impressive my jump was and I showed him my support by giving him a silent thumbs up when he looked at me after hitting a goal.
I only found out about him playing for the Boston Bruins, because he sent me a card after I won at my first Olympics. Reading how he forced his entire team to watch me and how happy he was when I won. He added his condolences for my mothers death, saying he first heard about it through a presenter who mentioned it on TV before my performance, so he’s sorry for not contacting me earlier. In the envelope were two tickets for one of his games in Boston. He wrote that he knew about my distaste against ice hockey, but a little city trip never hurt nobody. He even wrote I’m allowed to read or look at my phone, on condition that I shoot him a thumbs up when he’s making a point. He didn’t leave a phone number or address, so I couldn’t contact him. I’m not sure if I would’ve even done that. After the Olympics I didn’t have free-time. I was giving interviews for magazines, doing photoshoots and had TV appearances. So I never went to his game.
Eight years have passed since then. Occasionally I was thinking about him, but we never shared a deep bond to begin with and for him to not leave anything to contact him felt like a sign that he was just trying to be nice. Nice how he would be to everyone who lost their mother and later won at the Olympics. I would have felt like a fool for trying to contact him after all these years.
As Suguru wants to step on the ice, Satoru holds him back and slithers past him, saying he will get me.
Oh no, I force myself to get up while the woman, who is with them, just says: “Gojo, if you hurt yourself going on ice without skates, don’t expect me to treat your wounds afterwards.”
But it didn’t seem to bother him being on ice without skates. He slides towards me like it’s the easiest thing ever. For him it probably is. He must have insane upper body strength and don’t get me started on the legs. I mean I’ve seen the pictures, not only before I went into the pub. I googled him again at home while Hime was telling me about her day, mentioning how Satoru and his crew rented the entire third floor and how upset the cook got once she gave him Satorus meal plan with all the extra wishes.
Before he has the chance to reach me, I’m on my legs again. It’s killing me, but it’s better than getting help from him. He still extends his hand towards me.
“No really, I’m good”, I say and want to skate past him towards the rink exit where Mei Mei is waiting for me with open arms, but he grabs my arm and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. Before I even register what I’m doing, I kick my legs, but he holds them in place, whispering to me: “Leaving me out in the cold is one thing, but now you’re trying to kill me.”
I instantly stop moving.
I forgot I had my skates on. Hitting him at the right angle, they would cut through him like butter.
“I’m sorry, did I strike you?”, I ask, totally forgetting whose shoulder I’m on. He has his arm wrapped around my upper thighs. His hand is laying precariously close to my ass, while his other arm blocked my kicks.
“No, I’m fine, princess.”
Just now I’m realizing that he isn’t taking me to the exit where the others are waiting. He’s going across to the other exit.
“Don’t call me that and you’re going the wrong way!”
“Yesterday you didn’t mind me calling you princess, and huh? Not wearing tights with such a short skirt. Don’t tell me you did that for me.”
“Dream on”, I buzz back to him with a lowered voice: “Now let me go, I can skate by myself.”
“No, we need to talk”, he rustles and pinches me right below my ass. I’m hitting him against his lower back but it doesn't bother him.
We arrive at the other exit while the others look confused at us from the other side. Great, I don’t want to know what they are thinking.
He lowers me down and finally lets go of his grip he had on me. I open my skates as fast as I possibly can, not looking up to him.
“As much as I enjoy you kneeling in front of me, we need to talk.”
I get up with my skates in my hands and turn around to leave. There is no need to talk. By now his pea-sized brain must have figured out that I’m playing a part in his whole contract with the usage of the rink.
But it’s too late.
He fucked up by drinking.
He broke the contract before it was even completely finalized.
No need for me to hear his excuses.
As I’m walking away from him, he doesn’t hinder me. Instead I hear a sound which makes my blood freeze inside my veins.
‘Who’s your daddy, Zenin?’
Followed by me whimpering his name.
My heart sinks as I jump up, turning to him. Satoru hasn’t moved a bit as he holds his phone out for me to see a video.
“Do I have your attention now?”
I can’t believe it. How didn’t I notice him filming?
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
This is not good.
Not good? It’s a fucking disaster!
“Delete it”, is all I mutter once the clip is over. The clip itself is dark, you can barely identify me. But him saying my fucking last name and me being dumb enough to play right into his cards by answering. Fuck.
Did he plan this from the beginning?
No, it can’t be.
He’s just a pervert, who does stuff like that. His obsessive talking about taking pictures of me while fucking him with a Rangers shirt on should have been an indicator from the start.
“You know I can’t”, he answers.
“Why not?”
“The pictures.”
“Which pictures?”
Pathetic comeback for me, but I’m startled. I can’t lose this evidence. Surely I could ask Masamichi to just believe me or tell him to call Frank. He’s a witness, but I’m not even certain if he would listen to me. He would probably tell me to stop with my animosity against Satoru.
“Oh don’t you dare act stupid”, he puts his phone back into the pockets of his grey training pants: “Suguru has warned me about your dislike towards ice hockey players. Don’t get me wrong, I understand it. But I would’ve never guessed how far you would go.”
“What do you mean, warned?”, I cough.
“Did you really think I didn’t know who you were right from the beginning?”, I look at him, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour in my chest: “I know so much about you, you have no idea.”
I start to lose balance again, holding myself up at the edges of the rink. Partly because of my still exhausted legs, but more so because I feel the panic rise inside of me. I want to puke, knock myself out, just so I can wake up far away from him in a hospital bed and act like none of this is happening right now.
“Sit”, he points to a bench: “This will take a while.”
I obey and take a seat. There is no way for me to get away. To get out of this situation. If I can live through this nightmare, I can do anything.
At least for now he’s keeping distance, leaning against the wall in front of me. I’m glad no one seems to come over to bother us. Before I could ask myself why they are leaving us alone, I rant: “I didn’t give me any permission to film me! Do you have any idea how badly this could affect my life?”
“And do you have any idea how these pictures could affect my life?”
“It’s your own fault! You took these pictures, you did it yourself! If I were your average fan, these pictures would be online already!”, I scream at him, holding back tears.
“Yes, and it was fucking stupid of me. I was reckless.”
“So your own recklessness gives you the permission to film me? Why did you do it? Is this a sick kind of game to get back at my father, something to laugh about with your team?”
He walks over to me, seating himself next to me at the bench, stretching his left leg out. Not looking at me.
“It has nothing to do with your dad and no one will ever see this video, if you keep the pictures to yourself and let me skate here.”
I feel sick.
“Are you blackmailing me?”, I ask with a shaky voice.
“No, I’m just matching your energy. You started this foul game, I’m just keeping up.”, he’s still not looking at me, now both his legs are stretched wide open. Relaxation in person. He never seems to lose his cool.
“I don’t understand.”
“I already told you not to act stupid. You made it your mission right from the moment you saw me at the pub to ruin my life and I was dumb enough to not notice it until I saw how you looked at the pictures. Smiling like I walked right into your trap. I realized I’m fucked if I don’t have a quick backup plan.”
We really played each other, but I underestimated him tremendously. He’s right. I thought he is a dumb ice hockey player, who is an easy opponent. I would’ve never guessed that he saw right through me.
I breathe heavily and try to calm my nerves. I don’t know what to do. Or what to say. I’m on the horns of a dilemma. But I need to solve this quickly. And for this I need to know exactly what his plan is.
“What will you do if I show Yaga the pictures?”
“I will leak the video.”
I bite my teeth: “Then I will show them to your NHL team.”
“No you won’t do any of that and I will tell you exactly why.”
He stretches his arms over his head like he has no care in the world. It makes my blood boil by how calm he seems. He knows he has me in the palm of his hand. I acted the same way as I locked him out of my car. I was so certain that I had the upper hand, that I didn’t realize his real scheme. It wasn’t to fuck me, it was to counterplay my strategy.
“You’re a world-class figure skating champion without any dirty laundry. You didn’t even say one bad word about your shithead dad to the press”, he gets up and situates himself between my legs. Going on his knees to be on one level with me, while his large hands rest on my thighs. I do nothing against it. I just hold his sight and wait for him to continue.
“You’re still to this day America's sweetheart. Not a chance in the world you would risk your perfect reputation over not sharing your rink with an ice hockey player.”
“And you’re naive if you think I did this because you’re an ice hockey player.”, is the only thing I spit back at him, because he’s right about me. He read me like an open book, even with alcohol intake. He’s not a dumb player who only has parties and sex in mind. He’s a fucking psychopath.
“So why did you do it?”, he asks, genuinely curious while he rests his chin on my knee. He looks at me like this is all fun and games to him. Like he has already won. 1:0 for me, my ass. This is not a rematch, it’s halftime and I just realized that I scored an own goal.
“Why can’t you just get another rink?”, I ask instead, while ignoring his question and holding back tears. I can’t win this. He’s so fucking right. I would do everything to keep my reputation high. Thinking more about it, certainly a video like this would make massive waves. I think of all the different outcomes. In today's climate Satorus career would be over. No, let me correct that. Over something like leaking a suggestive video, his career wouldn’t be over. He’s a hot, rich man, who’s loved by many people. He would come out of this with a tap on his fingers. Only the pictures I have could ruin his career. But if he goes down, he will drag me with him. Clearly I would get sympathy from some sides, but still make the headlines. And even when people tell you, they didn’t look at it, they did. It’s the age of the internet. Once something is out there, it will be there forever and haunt you like a poltergeist. The fear has gripped me that this short, dirty talk video would overshadow all my accomplishments.
I start to cry.
“There is no time for me to find a new one before the season begins”, he noticed me crying and let out an annoyed sigh: “I’m sorry for doing this to you, princess. But my career means everything to me. You surely understand this better than anyone else.”
Yes I do, and this is the reason why I’m sitting here and declaring defeat. He can have my rink alongside with my dignity. Wait, he already has the last one.
“I hope you fall and break your neck on my rink”, I say and kick him against his chest, but he has a strong grip on my thighs, not letting go of me as he smiles: “So we have a deal, great! How about we start over”, he exclaims and lets go of my thighs, leaving his handprints on them. I brush over my thighs, trying my hardest to get them away. My action doesn’t seem to bother Satoru as he takes something out of his pocket.
His phone and mine.
He must have grabbed it before entering the rink. He could have easily just destroyed it. There was no need for him to ever mention the video he has of us. It was nothing more than another game of his. A power trip. To show off that he played me. To show off that he tricked me.
To show off that he conquered me.
I want to strangle him.
He unlocks his phone while holding mine in front of my face to activate the face-ID. Whatever his plan is, I know I have to accept it. I have never felt this kind of defeat before. I have never felt powerless over a situation. I have never lost.
Then he hands me his phone and keeps mine.
“Delete the video. And I will delete the photos.”
“How do I know you don’t have a backup?”
“I don’t use the cloud because this thing gets way too easily hacked.”
“You could have it saved to another device or send it to someone.”
“Jeez, how leery. Not sure why I deserve this.”
I just stare at him, unamused while I feel the weight of his phone in my hand.
“Okay, you can look through all my messages and ask Suguru, I don’t have another device with me.”
“And how do you know I don’t have a backup?”
“Oh, come on, princess, don’t be silly now. You were way too sure about all this to think that something could go wrong.”
I lower my glance and work my way through his phone without saying a word to him. In a fucked up way I trust him that he has no backup. But I still look through his recent messages on all his social media platforms. There are a lot of chats. Mostly I’m interested in his groupchat with the Rangers team. It’s a bunch of nonsense they ramble about. Asking Satoru about the resort and all kinds of stuff about Hockey. I’m surprised that he didn’t mention meeting me. So he really kept it to himself. Even though there was a conversation going on a few days ago that caught my attention, mainly because I see my name added into it.
Gavel: I still think it's a foolish idea for Gojo to train at the Yaga rink. Can’t trust a Zenin.
Slenderman: There’s a NDA.
Gavel: NDAs always have a loophole. Send it to me, I will find one.
Slenderman has sent a file
Atsuya: I agree with Hiromi, it’s idiotic. Aren’t there other ones?
1: We already discussed that. We requested over a dozen. Yaga is the only one that meets our criterias. No more debate. The situation is bad enough already.
Satoru: Jeez, thanks.
1: you know how I meant it..
Scarface: I also think it’s a dumb idea.
Satoru: Since when do you care?
Scarface has sent a photo (it’s a screenshot of my name in google picture search)
Scarface: notice a pattern?
Satoru: ???
Scarface has sent a photo (it’s a screenshot of Satoru Gojo girls in google picture search)
Scarface: pattern
Satoru: ???
Space bun: He means she’s your type.
Satoru: So?
Scarface: You’re there to train, not to get your dick wet.
Nanamin: I don’t want to be part of this discussion.
Nanamin has left the chat
Ino has added Nanamin
Gavel: I looked over it, I will send a better version to you, @ slenderman
Slenderman: Thank you, but our attorneys approved this one.
Gavel: They’re idiots then.
Slenderman: @ scarface Thank you for your concern, but our team at Idaho will make sure that Gojo focuses only on his training.
Satoru: Can’t promise that.
1: …
Scarface: I knew it! Can’t blame you, she’s fuckin’ hot. I would tap that too.
Nanamin has left the chat
Space Bun: Gross dude, don’t you have a girlfriend?
Ino has added Nanamin
Scarface: So? Doesn’t mean I can’t dream
Scarface: and cream.
Nanamin has left the chat
1: I’m just one more comment away from informing coach Gakukanji about this @ scarface
Scarface: Pls don’t tell daddy, I’m scared.
1: …
Scarface: Jokes aside, I’m just thinking about the team. If he’s not focusing on getting back on track, we’re fuck, so you better give Q-tip a warning.
Ino has added Nanamin
1: See you in 10, Satoru.
Satoru: Jeez, I was just joking.
1: in 10.
Satoru: okay mom
Gambler: Did someone see my Jersey?
“Gross”, I mutter, not sure what to make out of that. It’s true, he has a type, but I see his type more as models. I don’t notice a huge resemblance with me. But people from the outside see things differently, maybe scarface is right, but that still doesn’t help me on my path of trying to understand what Satoru actually wants from me. A quick fuck? A challenge? My fathers attention? Whatever his intentions are, they are not noble.
“What? Found my nudes?”, he smirks up to me, still sitting between my thighs.
“What, no!”
“Right, you wouldn’t say gross if you saw them.”, he grins and is skipping through my phone as well. I don’t really mind, because I have nothing of his interest to hide.
After I checked his most recent chats and made sure his phone is in no connection with another, all while trying not to lurk too much into his privacy, but as I went ahead to his galery to delete the video, I noticed a handful of photos of Satoru with a kid.
“You have a kid?”, I ask without thinking if I’ve crossed a line by wanting to know something so private, especially for athletes like him. A lot of famous people keep partners or kids behind closed curtains, away from the public eye.
But Satoru just glares at his phone for a second and says: “No, it’s Fushiguros.”
“And who’s Fushiguro?”
He blinks at me, knitting his eyebrows in disbelief.
“You really have no clue about Ice Hockey. Toji Fushiguro, he’s my teammate.”
“Cute kid.”
He blinks at me again, before going straight back to whatever he’s doing on my phone.
“Yeah he’s a cutie, unlike his dad.”
I don’t question his stance, even though I’m asking myself who Fushiguro is from all the weird nicknames he gave his teammates and go right into his video folder where I instantly find the video and delete it.
“And you have a cat?”, he questions showing me a picture from my photo gallery. I look at the picture and explain: “Yes, his name is Todo. He’s actually the rink cat, maybe you will see him.”
Three winters ago I found Todo as a kitten under a stack of firewood. As I was about to grab some, I heard his meow and instantly brought him inside. Even as a kitten he was big, but now he’s a huge monster of a cat, who eats like an actual monster as well. I spend more money on his food than on my own. But he’s a lovely black tabby, easily makes friends and loves belly rubs when he’s comfortable with someone. He usually lives in the rink hall because it’s more spacious than my cabin. I sometimes take him with me overnight, but often I can’t find him before I leave. I will definitely get him a friend, but the rescue center in my town doesn’t have a right candidate at the moment.
“Cute”, he smirks, still looking at the picture of Todo and me.
“Yes, he really is.”
“No, I meant you.”
I make a fake puking sound and declare: “Hope you’re deadly allergic to cats.”
He just laughs deeply into his stomach and I avoid his eyes to focus back on his phone in my hands.
Just to make sure I go ahead into the data bin and permanently scrap the video off. This has never existed. So it never happened.
I want to hand him his phone back but he’s still fixated on mine.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking through your google searches.”
“Give me my phone!”, I try to snatch it out of his hand but he grabs both my wrists with his unoccupied one and keeps scrolling with the other. Trying to free myself, he just pulls me closer, pressing his shoulder against my stomach. I have his hair under my nose and I hate to say it, I actually curse myself for thinking this, but he smells so good. Whatever magical spell he has on my brain to even just think that, needs to be shattered. I should not find him attractive, but of course fate has sent me an adonis over to make my mortal enemy.
“Over a dozen searches with my name. Are you in love or something? Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Shut up and give it back”, I screech, pulling even more. I tend to forget that he’s a fucking rock.
“Satoru Gojo DUI, Satoru Gojo crash, Satoru Gojo jail. Really?”
“Gosh, let me go”, I say and try again to rip my hands out of his grip. I rather say ‘Gosh’ because if I just utter the word ‘God’ in his presence, he will make it about himself.
“I take it back. Whoever Michael Byford is, he must be living rent-free in your head. Michael Byford wedding, Michael Byford wife. Shit, princess, you’re in love with a married man?”, but then I can see on his face as he reads more of the searches. The same ones I used when I looked Satoru up. DUI, crash, jail, murder….
He’s confused and distracted which allows me to get my hands free and snatch my phone back.
“Who is he?”, he asks instantly, staring me down, but I don’t meet his gaze.
“Did you delete the pictures?”, I ask instead, wanting nothing more than to go away.
He simply nods.
So it’s over. No need for me to stay here with him any longer. I push one of my legs past his chest to get up and brush past him. However he’s fast and grabs my shoulder, before I even have the chance to fully get up. He’s asking again who he is.
Michael Byford; the man who took my mother from this earth, from me. Normally you would think that Satoru should have heard his name if he really does know everything about me. Yet his name is pretty much never written in articles about my mothers death. Most articles about my mothers passing paint her death as an accident, some even say she was in a car and hit another one. I never talked about it or clarified anything, because it happened right before the Olympics and my PR team told me to focus on my performances. Masamichi did everything in his power to handle the situation, but apparently Michael Byford had someone mighty on his side, who had good connections with the press and a whole lot of money. His name and face were erased from most articles and lies were fabricated even though he was convicted. Whoever cares to know how my mother dies, will read about a tragic accident. Only if you dig deeper, you will find words like drunk driver or at best Michael B..
After all these years I never had the strength to talk about it publicly. People thought I handled it so well. I mean I won gold. I should have been devastated and should have resigned from the Olympic team, but skating was the only thing keeping me from collapsing. I didn’t let my brain think for one second. I pushed my body beyond its limits to kill every thought in my mind. And after the Olympics everyone seemed to forget about her death. All I heard about was my victory, which sent me straight into a pile of interviews, photoshoots, campaigns and TV appearances. Once this died down, I wanted to tackle the processing for her death. I wanted to come clear with myself and start to accept it, but Mei Mei has brought up that I need to focus on Nationals and requalify for the Olympics and at that time I chose the easier way, which was to simply not think about her death. Now nearly a decade later I still haven’t engaged in the healing process. I’m only angry and bitter. Angry at Michael Byford and whoever helped him discredit his actions. Bitter with myself for never addressing it. For keeping quiet about her death. For letting him get away with it.
But it’s too late. I missed the train to untangle it.
Being in the public eye is heaven and hell so to speak. I would open a barrel with no idea how deep it gets.
People could find me brave for finally speaking about it, for bringing attention to the injustice the press did to my mothers case. I could give speeches about it and maybe help others who went through the same loss. But who am I to do this? I’m not even over it myself. Can you actually get over a situation like it? God, they would praise me as a hero, yet I’m spiteful and my mind is filled with cruel imaginations.
On the other side the deeper the barrel, the closer it is to hell. And hell would be to come across as needy, fame hungry. Like why is she talking about it now? It’s nearly a decade ago, why didn’t she speak up earlier? Is she using her mothers death to get relevant again? Is the money getting tight and she needs a sob story to sell to the media? Like who is she anyway?
I heard this kind of stuff all before. There is not a year when there isn’t someone going through this exact event with the media and you can never predict the outcome.
And I hate not being in control.
But whatever route it would take, one thing's for sure. It would ruin Michael Byfords life. And as much as I crave his downfall, all I saw when I was looking him up online was his little daughter. I would not only ruin her father's life, I would ruin hers as well. I would not be better than Michael. There would be no way for them to be ever truly happy again after I drag them through the mud of the media. Muscle to muscle and toe to toe, her father took my mother from me so I would take her father from her.
Call me a vicious or vile person for my foul play with Satoru, but I’m not a monster. I would never be able to forgive me for ruining an innocent person's life. I wouldn’t be better than a drunk driver who takes the life of an innocent bypasser.
“Stop bothering me, you’ve won. Be happy and leave me alone”, I press myself up, still insanely weak on my legs, but I manage it. He stands up with me, all while his hand is still fixed on my shoulder. He’s really testing my body on how easily I bruise. The big one on my hip won’t be the only mark I’m getting today.
“Who is he?”, he asks again, stubborn as a mule, maybe more like a tank.
“Thought you know everything about me”, I hiss provocatively, now meeting his gaze. If I had an iron rod, I would go full Tonya Harding on him.
“I’m not letting you go until you tell me”, his grip on my shoulder tightens even more. Yes, this one will definitely become a bruise.
Why does he want to know? To send me more through hell? To keep me longer in this nightmare of his presence? To find more pieces for his twisted game he’s been playing with me?
“Just let me go”, before he has the chance to loosen his grip, Mei Mei appears, closely followed by Suguru and the unknown woman.
“What is going on?”, Suguru says, looking between Satoru and me, who has by now let go of me. I stand there awkwardly. They came at the worst timing.
“Get over here, now”, Mei Mei wails through pressed teeth at me. I obey and reach for her as she grabs my underarm and pulls me instantly closer.
First I thought she’s mad at me for some reason, but then I saw her eyes flicker at Satoru. She’s ready to kill him.
“Are you good?”, she asks me calmly, taking my face in between her palms and observing my face. I’m definitely red in my face from all the crying earlier, so I spin a lie around it. I don’t want to turn this into a big deal. I don’t want them to know why I cried, what all this is about. I simply don’t want to talk anymore. However, since when do I get what I want? So I talk.
“I’m fine, it’s just my leg. Must have torn a muscle or something. You know what a crybaby I can be.”
She doesn’t believe me, mainly because I’m not a crybaby at all. At least not when it comes to physical injuries. She winds her arms around my shoulders to steady me, but more so to give me a strange hug. Like she used to do when I was waiting for the jury to announce my points at a competition and my nerves were making me shake like a tiny tree in a storm. She’s not good with physical comfort. Who am I lying to, she’s not good with comfort in any form. For example the time when I told her about the Devils talent scout, who came into the rink and I panicked, she simply said that he’s just a random man and since when am I crying over an ordinary man. She didn’t understand my concerns or simply didn’t care enough. All along Mei Mei used to find my deep rooted fear for my absent father absurd. Maybe because my mother never spoke bad about him and watched his games on TV with full support like he didn’t completely ghosted us. She was so in love with him. And I will never know nor understand why. For me, he’s as dead as my mother.
“I will not ask again, Satoru. What are you doing here?”, Suguru is mad, or worried, or both. I can’t tell the difference. Satoru doesn’t say anything. This circumstance isn’t ideal for him. Whatever lie he has in mind, I could easily debunk it and everyone would believe me.
But I’m tired and sick of this. I want to go home and cuddle up on the couch while Hime brings me some food and tells me everything is going to be fine.
“Nothing really. He -”, a fast lie, a good and quick one.
“He had to bring me through this exit because he couldn’t turn around without falling too.”
To my surprise Satoru grins at me like the devil himself and call me a fucking psychopath, but my heart instantly skips and screams for a rematch. He has won the first game against all odds, but this was not the real one. It was just a tryout.
The pictures and the video are gone and so is everything that led up to this moment. Everything that has happened between us, is our secret. I know I could ruin him right now, throw allegations at him and accuse him of anything that comes to my mind. He would be out of my rink in an instance. It would be an easy match for me to win. But I don’t want to play a foul tryout anymore. I will find a way to get him into a dilemma. Into the lion's den with no way out. Complete defeat, so no rematch can save him.
A spiel between true legends. Two legends that don’t underestimate each other. All cards open, baby. Fuck, I can’t wait to see what kind of tricks my opponent has up his sleeve.
But first I need to resolve this. Neither Mei Mei nor Suguru seem to fully believe me. Granted, it was a bad lie. As if Satoru won’t be able to turn us around.
Yet, I don’t truly know how severely injured his leg is. Maybe all the training won’t be enough to get him back into the team. Truly pitiful, I can’t hide my snicker after this thought.
They wait for Satoru to say something, but he is as always the least stressed person in the room, so I continue for us: “He just grabbed me to get me back on the bench to favor my leg. But everyone would have tried to run away, because apparently he can’t be quiet for one second. Kept talking my ears off!”
I try to bring lightness into the stiffen atmosphere and it seems to work. Sugurus' shoulders start to relax and a small smile appears on his lips. Mei Meis' hold around me also loosens, but she still seems weary of Satoru.
“We haven’t had the chance for an introduction. I’m Ieiri Shoko, Satorus physician for the time he’s here. If you don’t mind I can have a look at your leg. Making sure everything is fine.”
She is stunning, absolutely gorgeous. An Angel.
Why is she working for a dick like Satoru?
Probably the same reason why Suguru and Mei Mei are here.
Money.
I introduce myself, but shake my head: “I have these kinds of injuries all the time, no biggie. I just need to lay down for a second and I’m fine again. But thank you and if it isn’t better tomorrow, I will gladly accept your offer.”
I beam at her and she smiles back.
“So between you both everything is fine?”, Mei Mei asks and before Satoru has the chance to say something, I intervene: “Absolutely. He was even so nice to promise me his help with the beginner skating course for kids. Miguel injured his back a few days ago and I’m actually his substitute but you know me, I’m not good with kids screaming, crying and falling all over themselves on the ice. So it was truly such a relief when Satoru offered to overtake the course until Miguel is fit again.”
Maybe this is a bit of a foul game, but I will allow it for my amusement and to save me some nerves.
“What, Satoru, you know you don’t have time for that”, Suguru expresses confusion.
“Didn’t you hear, I promised it to her”, he genuinely smiles at me while I try to not get red. I would have expected a lot of different reactions, but not this one. He’s really helping me out.
But why?
“Could be good, easy exercise for him. Training small kids and preventing them from falling requires a lot of strength, fast instincts and speed with steadiness. All while keeping calm”, Mei Mei explains, looking at Suguru.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea. No one is supposed to know you’re here. This goes against everything we arrange in the NDA”, Ieiri steps in and gives Suguru an alarmed look.
“Not to burst your bubble, but have you seen him? He looks like a giant Q-Tip, good luck keeping his stay a secret”, I utter, referring to how scarface called him in the chatlog.
Everyone huffs amused at my comment, even Satoru. I look at him and he’s watching me from under his long lashes. I feel like I’m going to faint. A man like him doesn’t deserve to be so beautiful. The world is truly unfair.
“We can discuss that later with our lawyers. And if they decline, I can step in”, Suguru chimes in and smiles at me.
“No, you don’t h-”, I stumble over my words before he cuts me off and states: “I will find a solution.”
He really hasn’t changed since the last time I saw him. He’s still calm and kind. An empathic good soul. I hate myself for dragging him into this. Of course he would sacrifice himself on Satorus and my behalf. Training kids is a fucking pain in the ass. At least for me, but Suguru wouldn’t probably mind. He’s the kind of person who's naturally good with kids. With everyone.
He’s the type of man mothers brag about to their friends and fathers love to actually hang out with. He’s the kind of person when he’s with somebody other women envy them and other men are intimidated by his presence. He’s the type of man who genuinely cares and always picks the right side.
He hasn’t changed at all, really. He just got taller, more muscular and his hair is a bit longer, but he’s still a heartthrob. Not in the way Satoru is. Suguru is the perfect portrait of a classic man, a timeless handsome face. Some would argue he has a mysterious manner. Like a fallen angel, damned to stick around flawed humans.
Satoru seems so opposite of him. White hair versus black hair. Light eyes versus dark eyes. Devil grins versus angel smiles.
But they are both so majestic in an indescribable way even though they are huge Ice Hockey Players with hard facial features and even harder muscles. And wasn’t the Devil an Angel before God threw him out?
What am I even thinking?
I should have stopped my train of thoughts after Suguru being a heartthrob and not bring Satoru into this calculus as well.
“Anyway, I should really head out now. It was nice meeting all of you. I will come back later to sign all the NDA stuff, don’t worry!”, I announced and released myself out of Mei Meis hug, walking inside the corridor.
But I quickly halt, turn around and drop a curtsey while staring daring at Satoru: “And before I forget it, welcome to the Yaga rink.”
He holds my gaze and grins: “And thank you for having me.”
Asshole, as if I had the chance to decline.
But soon enough I will wipe that arrogant smirk right off his face.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#enemies to lovers#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#jujutsu gojo#ice hockey au#ice hockey#figure skating#smut#fake dating#fake dating trope
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could you please talk more about the metal gear pro wrestling au? i’m obsessed with the concept
okokok. you might be a wrestling fan already but for accessibility’s sake i will be defining my terms here. baby face / face = good guy, heel = bad guy, kayfabe = anything that is true within the wrestling storyline but not necessarily real life. also this was written with my boyfriend @accursedapothecary who did a LOT of the heavy lifting on the plot details ily babe
any group like foxhound, dead cell, diamond dogs, outer heaven, etc, these are all wrestling factions & stables, groups of wrestlers who are allied together and train together and might tag team or show up at each other’s matches to help out or cheer their compatriots on.
solid snake is an up and coming babyface who’s training under the tutelage of kazuhira “hellmaster” miller, an old retired veteran who had like a babyface turned heel turned face again kind of arc, and he’s training him up to take down big boss who is THEE champion, took a title off miller ten years back and has still hung doggedly onto it since. snake beats him, but the title is stolen by liquid snake, a new heel trained by ocelot, who had an on-again off-again tag team thing with big boss when they were in the diamond dogs faction together also with miller, but that whole faction imploded bc big boss and miller had a falling out and went their separate ways, but ocelot was just sort of following big boss around like a lost puppy for a while til boss took the title and then sort of disappeared for a really long time before surfacing again like two years back. that was such a long sentence. ANYWAY. ocelot also challenges kaz to come out of retirement and have one last match with him… A HAIR MATCH. which if you are not familiar the loser of a hair match has to shave their head. kaz loses, VERY sad, his version of dying in this universe is losing his pretty long hair…
SNAKE GOES TO AVENGE HIM THOUGH. takes on foxhound, defeats ocelot with the help of a mysterious masked figure who later challenges him to a match (i can’t stress how extremely Wrestling everything going on with grey fox is.), gets help from meryl in the fights against mantis & wolf, then defeats liquid and gets the title from him BUT then it turns out the big boss he defeated for the title in the first place WASN’T EVEN BIG BOSS. which is also, i cannot stress enough, SUCH a wrestling plotline. also at some point in all this liquid has been impersonating miller on the sidelines and does a whole vince mcmahon IT WAS ME! IT WAS ME SNAKE! IT WAS ME ALL ALONG SNAKE. otacon’s been in like a semi-manager role as well and after the reveal shifts to full time managing. also after the fake big boss reveal venom retires and goes to live with kaz <3 i think at one point there was a really bad botch with a turnbuckle that ripped his actual head open and now in kayfabe they say he’s still got part of it lodged in his skull. venom also used to be a ringside medic and then one day when he was patching up ocelot after a blading incident gone wrong ocelot was like dude. has anyone ever told you you look EXACTLY like big boss. someone call up the big guy i got an angle for him. and venom had always wanted to be in the ring so he was sooo happy when he got the chance… but he’s like a total softie when he’s out of character and talks everyone through the best way to take his moves without getting hurt, it’s like a complete 180 from his in-ring persona. i love him.
also foxdie is a kayfabe thing they use to explain it when someone gets a real bad injury and has to retire early i think… snake gets it which is Sad. so he starts training raiden to take over for him…
that's all i have right now. kisses you gently on the forehead thank u for asking
#ibis answers#metal gear#NOT SURE IF THIS IS REMOTELY COHERENT. LOVE AND LIGHT#also GOD i gotta design wrestling gear for them all soooo bad
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Reps
Remember the scene in The Princess Bride when Westley is explaining how he is the Dread Pirate Roberts? Westley says:
“…he told me a secret. ‘I’m not the Dread Pirate Roberts’, he said. ‘My name is Ryan. I inherited this ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts. Just as you will inherit it from me. The man I inherited it from was not the real Dread Pirate Roberts either…The real Dread Pirate Roberts has been retired 15 years and living like a king in Patagonia’. Then he explained that the name was the important thing for inspiring the necessary fear”
Ed promised Izzy he could be the new Blackbeard and things did not go as planned...
gif @mikimeiko
Do You Work For Blackbeard?
In Episode 4 “Discomfort in a Married State” we see Edward talk with Izzy about the idea of retiring and stolen identities. He hints that the crew would need a new captain and Izzy looks like he is about to burst into sunshine & confetti at the idea of being in charge.
Since that promise was planted in that tiny man’s head, Izzy has been eagerly awaiting Stede’s death because it would mean Izzy would get to rise to power. And that is very important to him.
This comes to a head in Episode 6 “The Art of Fuckery” when Ed is confronted and encouraged to end Stede’s life. Someone else (I can’t find the post, sorry! If you know it, please send a link) wrote beautifully about how Blackbeard telling Stede “This is what it’s like to be Blackbeard” was as much for Izzy as it was for Stede. Leadership is a heavy burden/responsibility. Izzy had not grasped that lesson. He thinks it's all intimidation and power and looking cool.
gif @cononeills
Izzy’s leadership approach is the exact opposite of Stede’s “people-positive” management style. Izzy thinks respect comes about from fear and coercion. That is why he is obsessed with the reputation of Blackbeard as a badass. People surrender at the sight of the flag. Izzy doesn’t care for the creative aspect of the job like Ed does. Izzy likes people cowering at his feet like any man with a proper Napoleon Complex.
No one will tremble in fear of Blackbeard if word gets out that not only did Blackbeard sign himself over to fighting for the king, but he did it for Bonnet. That would be “a fate worse than death” if the name Blackbeard doesn’t send a shiver up any spines. And Izzy CAN’T have that — not when he is about to get everything he has ever wanted.
Maybe It’s Not A Death
Izzy doesn’t like people referring to Blackbeard as Ed. He doesn’t want Edward Teach tied to the reputation of Blackbeard anymore if Izzy is going to inherit it. At this point, Iz has had a taste of being captain (even though he had a mutiny almost immediately — which was probably a motivating factor in the marooning of the crew later.)
But that was under his own name. Like Westley learned, no one trembles in fear at an unknown pirate captain. Especially Dizzy Izzy.
When Lucius is trying to comfort Ed (Ep 10) saying, “Maybe it's not a death. Maybe life just begins again.” you can see the wheels begin to turn for Ed. The catalyst later comes when Izzy confronts Ed with the illustration of Blackbeard.
gif @figmentof
Izzy’s threat “I serve Blackbeard….Edward better watch his fucking step” is not without weight. Izzy did the dirty work; Ed knows what the man is capable of. Even worse, Izzy knows what Ed is and is NOT capable of. (Murder)
So Ed is trapped, worse now than ever. Sort of mirroring Stede’s story, they both have to fix the promises they broke before they can truly start anew. But Ed can’t fake his death; he has to keep Blackbeard alive.
To truly escape, Ed has to restore the Blackbeard reputation for Izzy to successfully (and happily) take it on. Ed is Kraken down (harharhar) on his image for Izzy. If you want the scary Blackbeard, I will give it to you — but you’re the one that’s gotta keep it up, mate.
And to keep it up and be able to pass it on to Izzy, Ed had to get rid of:
Lucius — the only literate crew member who could keep records and could draw his true face. And who also saw Ed in a moment of weakness.
"Stede's playthings" -- because we just can’t have the crew referring to Izzy as the Spewer if they are going to pull off this con. They also will help spread the word of Blackbeard being scarier than ever.
Evidence of Stede -- The English are after Ed and know he was captured on the Revenge. He needs to rework the ship to start his fleet. All Stede’s things need to go. This is the Queen Anne’s Revenge now. Or whatever. It’s got Blackbeard’s Flag flying.
Not All Beards Are Beards, If You Catch My Drift
The reputation of Blackbeard proceeds him. He has an easily identifiable description: long black (or gray) beard. Also when Pete was describing him earlier, Blackbeard used smoke to surround his head.
My first thought — wow psychological warfare. But not only does it give him an extra air of badassery, the lit little fires and smoke around his face also help to conceal what he truly looks like. His identity is kind of concealed.
As we see with Jim’s disguises, beards aren’t that hard to use to hide things. It changes a person’s face big time. It’s an easy thing to put on and take off….
And word spreads quick.
gif @captain-flint
His Name Is Blackbeard
I really wonder if in season 2 or (god willing) season 3 Izzy will become the concept of Blackbeard. And in his weird incompetence maybe his is the head tied to the front of Maynard's ship while Stede and Ed sail away with new identities.
Now that would be some Revenge...
gif @bob-belcher
TLDR: Ed still wants to retire. Izzy might carry on Blackbeard's legacy. It’s totes possible.
#ofmd meta#just my two cents#someone probably said this before#ofmd season 2 speculation#izzy hands meta#edward teach born on a beach#omfd blackbeard
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Red & Blue | Chapter 35
Author's note: We are approaching the end of "Red & Blue", but don't worry, because there is more Mason coming in November. And in the company of a certain Portuguese with arms the size of my head 👀
Previous chapter | Next chapter
Masterlist
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“Dear God, breathe!”
“Imf brifin.”
“No, you are not. Eat slowly, please.”
“Fine” I say. “But I am hungry, and this tastes so good.”
“I know it does. But I only want to have to take you to the hospital when that little one decides is time to come to the world, not because you’ve chocked while eating chocolate.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Are you eating well?”
“Yes, Eliza. I am eating well.”
“Because you are planning on playing again once the baby is born, right? You are not retiring yet.”
“I am not. Besides, I live with a football player. I eat healthy even if I don’t want to, and all this will be burnt later” I say, giving my pastry another big bite.
“Pilates? Yoga?”
“Mounting.”
“Mount… Oh. Oh!”
“Oh indeed” I say with a big smile.
“Let’s talk about something else, shall we?” Eliza says, her face turning a bright shade of pink. “The announcement.”
“Yes, that.”
“What do you guys want to do?”
“We thought an Instagram post would be enough.”
“Maternity shoot?”
“God, no. I hate those, they are so… Yeah, not for me. But Mason has been taking random photos of the me and the bump, so one of those will do.”
“And the caption?”
“I don’t know. Something simple, nothing cheesy.”
“Ok. Send me some of the photos you like and the caption, and I’ll discuss it with his team.”
“Really? Is that necessary?”
“This is something huge. It isn’t like when you go somewhere for the holidays. We can’t risk posting it and then seeing that there is some underwear on the background, a grammar error…”
“I don’t make grammar errors” I say all proud.
“Just in case. We don’t want to give people any reason to be mean or send hate. Not with something like this.”
“The haters will find a way to hate, they don’t give a shit about anything or anyone. But yes, it’ll be for the best.”
“And then we have you know who…” Eliza sighs.
“Oh, the conspiracy theorists that believe Leah and I are together and Mason is just a beard… I hope they don’t follow the scary route others have, and start saying this is all fake and that the baby is a doll.”
“They’ll probably say it is your baby with Leah, and that Mason is the sperm donor.”
“Or Aaron.”
“I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the comments.”
“Great. Are you gonna eat that?” I say, pointing at the other pain au chocolat on the table.
“All yours. But promise you will eat it slowly.”
“I promise” I say before devouring it in just a few bites.
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"Ay, ¡pero mírate!" Sandra says, hugging me. She and Marco have come to spend a couple of days with us in London now that La Liga is on their Christmas break. "Last time I saw you, you were barely showing!"
"And now, look" I say, caressing my belly.
"Two months left, right?"
"Yep."
"Are you ready for it?" Marco says, also giving me a hug.
"I think I am. Mason, on the other hand..."
"He's freaking out, isn't he?" Sandra says.
"Kind of."
Instead of spending most part of his free time playing golf or video games with his friends, he's now using that time to read books about pregnancies and babies. And when he is online, he's constantly watching videos, reading more, and searching and buying everything we may need. Or not.
"Can I check the nursery?" Sandra asks. "Seeing it on videos isn't the same as in real life."
"She's been looking forward to it since we got the plane tickets. I think she's more excited about that than seeing you" Marco says.
"Hey!" she replies, hitting him on the arm. "I'm excited because this is a very special project. It is my first nursery, and I don't usually work through facetime, I visit the places I'm decorating. I must make sure everything is perfect for the little one."
"If you say so... Ouch!" Marco complains when Sandra hits him again.
"C'mon, I'm also excited about you seeing it for the first time" I say, grabbing her arm. Since Sandra works as an interior designer, I asked for help with the nursery. I had no idea about where to start.
"Oh my God, it's perfect!" she says once we walk into the room, checking every detail. "And the wallpaper! So much prettier in person!"
"I love it. Now I kind of want the whole house to be covered on it."
"The rest of the house looks great the way it is, don't touch anything" she says, threatening me with her finger.
"The hanger with all the little shirts is so cute" Marco says.
"Mason loves it."
"He is the one who put the Chelsea one first, isn't he?"
"Yep. And when Leah comes to visit, it's the Arsenal one the one that magically shows up first."
"I can see them fighting over the shirt the baby must wear" Marco laughs.
"Oh, that's already happening. Sometimes Declan also is involved and... Yeah. So I've told them that those stay on the hanger, and the only one that gets to be worn is the England one. That makes everyone happy."
"Unless they start arguing about the name or number on the back..."
"Marco, don't give them ideas!" Sandra says.
"I knew it could happen, so I said no name or number. Besides, only Mason and I know the name."
"Which I think is very rude. Not telling your dear friends about the name... What if I want to get you something with the name embroided?" Sandra says, checking the wardrobe. "But look at all these little outfits! You better send me photos every single day."
"I will, you aren’t the first person who asks for it. I see myself making a group chat just to send photos of the outfits.”
“Baby influencer” Marco says.
“Have you decided if you will show the face on social media?” Sandra asks.
“No, not yet. Mason is dying to be able to go out and do the walk around the pitch at the end of the season like he’s done with Summer. He’s said that it is a dream he’s always had, to do that with his kids. Same if he wins something. And whether you like or not, there will be photos and videos online. So I guess we’ll see how things go, and how comfortable we feel.”
“Good” Sandra says. “Now let’s take some photos of this beautiful room. Will you allow me to post them on Instagram?”
“Of course! I know how much it means to you.”
“You are the best” Sandra says, giving me a quick hug.
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#mason mount#mason mount fanfic#mason mount imagine#mason mount x reader#football imagine#football fanfic
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I think something very important that I have not thought about until right now is that Crowley knows the bullshit because he’s been a part of it.
In Hell before his “retirement” he was a chaos bringer, a mischief maker. Yes they had the Arrangement, but they did not collaborate on every single project. They were not put in the same place 100% of the time. He has to drive through a wall of fire because his own plan to make the M25 impossible to leave bit him in the ass. Not only was he Doing The Job of a demon, even if he tried hard not to be too Evil about it, he did well enough to earn the honor of delivering the Antichrist to his destination. Crowley might not have been a Duke of hell or besties with Satan (in the show I have not read the book I really think I should bc I love having all the lore) but he was the demon stationed in London causing trouble and had been possibly the main demon on earth for a long time.
Aziraphale on the other hand?
His bookshop is seen as, at best, a meeting hub for angels and at worst a joke. Gabriel questions him about eating which isn’t bad on its own but it’s very “Aziraphale the weird angel is eating food”. Nobody takes him seriously, he’s dismissed and ignored, they think his ideas are stupid. They Punch Him In The Stomach and he’s called useless or something to that effect when he accidentally goes to Heaven and loses his corporation. They hate him. To the point of finding joy in his death.
And here comes the mouth of God telling him that HE is the perfect Angel to take over for Gabriel. The supreme archangel of all Heaven. The one who went out of his way time and again to belittle him. Aziraphale? Replace him? And he can bring Crowley along? They can be safe from Hell and make Good changes and stay together? People will actually listen to him and take him seriously? He can leave behind his bookshop if it means taking Crowley and fixing Heaven. He can leave earth if he gets to have those things.
Because he’s never been Important before. He’s never had anyone from his own side give him a fucking complement in 6000 years. God asked him about the flaming sword Once and then Never Spoke To Him Again. Crowley seems to be the only one giving him compliments that he takes to heart. Maggie calls him an angel for being nice but he knew he did the no rent thing for selfish reasons. Crowley tells him he did a good job investigating and he’s all smiles and happy wiggles. He has never had anyone from his side be fucking nice to him and now the literal Headhancho is promoting him.
And for Crowley it’s easy to turn down. He knows Heaven is shit and he knows Hell doesn’t give a damn bc he’s experienced it before. Hell doesn't care how the job gets done and Heaven can’t see outside of its own ass and doesn't care about the Right thing. They don’t care about humans as people. They are set dressing to their own war not a creation of God that they should observe and care about. They want souls, they want to Win this little game that they SAY God wants them to play. And maybe She does, but maybe She’s Wrong. But regardless they don’t care about anything Real. But Aziraphale does. Crowley does.
And in an isolated incident yeah it might be out of character for Aziraphale to seemingly regress. But that’s not what happens. He’s not interested in joining Heaven as part of the cog again. He doesn’t want to be the universal punching bag anymore. He likes his independence and his records and his freedom. He doesn’t want to be just the weird little Angel everyone hates. But the Metatron is offering him a sort of protection. He’s being appointed by someone high up, given a role that is seemingly untouchable. They can’t hit the supreme archangel. They can’t mock his choice of company if he’s in charge. And it’s all fake it’s all lies he’ll no doubt be just a figurehead with a fancy title. But right now it’s all real to him.
So he says yes. Not because he’s fallen back onto his old ways, not really, but because he really thinks this is Better. Being involved to fix the community vs running away from it and risk being hunted down Again. They found him because he’s at the bookshop but they’re angels. If they want to find him or Crowley they will. This is everything he’s ever hoped for with the added bonus of not being on opposite sides anymore. Because they still are to everyone else. An Angel and demon are still an Angel and a demon to the outside world. Angels can find Aziraphale and demons can find Crowley and the other side can threaten the other and.
If they’re both in Heaven they won’t need to do that. So he says yes, because he wants to. But also… how do you say No to an offer like that? Someone else already said it but it’s Coffee or Death. Become the new archangel or say No to the closest thing to God after already being threatened time and again. Nobody would pick death.
People are Predictable.
#good omens 2#good omens#Aziraphale#listen he’s doing his best he has a lot on his plate#and after that last line of the season he can’t back down now after knowing sownthing is being planned#he’s just as alone as Crowley it’s sad bc they are both heartbroken and alone now
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(betterdays spoilers ment) gasp!! yes i'd been using the website for reference after finishing the first time! i'd actually been wondering about deku, esp after timeline 4 where katsuki's parents are wary about him and katsuki being isolated from everyone. having all versions of deku be true is fascinating, esp with timeline 1 having him hide all of this yet being the Truth timeline...! it's almost heartbreaking that we know so much from jumping around but katsuki will never know everything.
i reread timeline 2 and god it's terrifying that after everything they're literally the only 2 humans left. when katsuki gets his memories back (i assume he does at some point?) how does he feels about deku? i can't imagine things going back to how they were before even with the knowledge. was so excited to read your response, thanks again !!
AAH I can’t remember if Katsuki’s parents explain, but it’s because Deku distanced Katsuki from them/took up all of Katsuki’s time so most of the time they just got phone calls from Katsuki on holidays and that’s it. SO ITS A COMBINATION OF THAT and Katsuki’s subconscious concerns bleeding into the NPCs around him.
What you said about Katsuki never knowing everything HAS ME SHOOKENING. ITS SO TRUE.
ALSO, HUGE SPOILER. LIKE, THE BIGGEST SPOILERS because these were never written even tho I really want to finish betterdays it just isn’t realistic unless I retire like rn HAHHA
There’s like one timeline where Deku doesn’t kill everyone in the spaceship and I think it’s the ones where Katsuki doesn’t “give in” to Deku as much. Cuz Timeline 2 you play right into Deku’s grubby little hands muahahaha and now he’s GREEDY and doesn’t want ANYONE ELSE to have Katsuki so he diverts all power from Mina, Kirishima, and Todoroki’s cells to keep Katsuki’s simulation going (effectively killing them).
If the others stay alive longer (I.e. Deku hasn’t gotten a TASTE FOR KATSUKI’S FLESH) then more power gets used, Todoroki gets booted out of his simulation to save on power (not unlike what happened to Deku) and TODOROKI FIGURES OUT REAL QUICK THAT DEKU’S FUCKING WITH KATSUKI’S SIMULATION. DEKU KILLS HIM.
And so basically Katsuki ends up finding evidence of the MURDER and that’s how he wises up in the super fake Deku timelines where Deku’s acting his ASS off (but not before a WHIRLWIND ROMANCE OF COURSE 😏)
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