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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

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Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 9: Magic Carpet Ride

Chapters: 9/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use

Characters: Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags: A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses, Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary: Loki, paragon of self-sacrifice, must face down a cultural taboo.

Loki stared ruefully at the little bottle of pills on the table in front of him.

“You've got to be kidding me.” he said, “Your weak mortal medicine will have no affect on me.”

Tony Stark shrugged. “Works on Cap.”

“I am not your Captain Rogers. We are worlds apart.”

“The guy's a never ending science experiment. We had to develop insanely strong meds for him because, in the event that he actually managed to get hurt, our strongest stuff couldn't help him. But I have it on good authority that this'll do the trick. That authority being your brother. King of Asgard.”

Loki glared in scandalized disbelief. “You are telling me Thor actually took one of these?”

“Took some persuading, but yeah. After he came back down, he was pretty sure they'd work on you too, despite your differences.”

Loki's eyes flicked to you, then back to Stark, then to the bottle. “Hold your tongue. We don't need to discuss this any further. I will not poison myself at your command.”

“It's not poison!” Stark insisted. “It's a painkiller and anti-inflammatory. It will help you heal.”

“You cannot expect me to degrade myself for your convenience.”

“No, I expect you to lie for your convenience.” Stark shot back. “Though I don't see how hiding this from me,” he gestured at the chair, the neck brace, “actually helped you at all. You don't get anything out of it. Anyway, you really need to start cooperating if you want to stay. I'm trying to be lenient, but the more you complicate things, the more likely it is you'll be discovered. I think we all agree that would be bad.

As for you, if you want to come back downstairs and rejoin society, we've always got space for you” he said to you. “The baristas have been asking after you.”

“No!” Loki burst, “If I must befoul myself with your medicines to retain my lodgings, then I require her assistance to oversee things while I am...impaired.”

It had been an accident. Or rather, a lapse in personal judgment. You had left Loki after dressing him one morning, to fix breakfast, and Stark had shown up. And because he was your boss, and owned the building, you had just let him in. That's right, you had helped out the landlord. Your parents would be ashamed of you. You were ashamed.

And the silent fury Loki had been radiating when he wheeled out into the seating area and Stark had gotten a look at him as he really was made you surprised that he wanted to keep you around at all.

Stark had given him an exasperated earful, and then left, coming back this morning with a bottle full of small pills. You couldn't even come close to pronouncing the complicated name on the label, but from what Stark was saying, they were the kind of thing that should never be taken by a normal person. Not if they had been made with Captain America in mind. Not if they were powerful enough to string out Thor.

You were surprised Loki was even pretending to go along with this, considering the cultural attitudes to chemical medicines in Asgard. Really, you fully expected him to order you to throw the pills away once Stark left.

When you brought him his tea, he sighed deeply, his expression a mask of utter melancholic resignation.

“Crush one of those accursed pills into a powder and add it to the tea.” he said woefully. “Stay by me as I suffer this indignity. Be forgiving of any upcoming transgressions, I implore you.”

“Hey, I'm sure it won't be that bad.” you said, grabbing a cooking spoon, and carefully breaking the pill down into a fine powder with the handle. “It won't stay in your system for very long. Your body will filter it out and flush it away, and you'll be clean again.”

You brushed the powder into his teacup, and stirred until it dissolved. Then you handed it over to Loki, who stared into the cup morosely.

“Won't it be good to not be in pain, even just for a little while?”

“I thought that many times, when I was in the clutches-” He stopped abruptly. “I've thought that many times. It is always denied to me somehow. There's always a catch.” He took a long sip of the tea, and sighed again. “And so I am tainted. At least the tea doesn't taste any different. You are getting better at that.”

“Here, have a muffin.” you offered him your freshest creation. “It says on the bottle that you're supposed to take it with food.”

He accepted the muffin with all the graveness of a prisoner at his last meal, but he thanked you graciously, and stopped you when you started to leave his side.

“I will be rendered a senseless fool by this foul poison. You must stay close, so that I do not do something utterly moronic, like throwing myself from the balcony on the assumption that I can fly. I might not actually survive in my situation, and I dislike long falls anyway.”

“You're scared of heights?” you asked, scarcely able to believe it.

“No,” he said haughtily, “I dislike long falls. It is different.”

“Why do they bother you?”

“That is personal.”

“I've seen your dick.” you pointed put.

“You would not be the first.” he said, matching you for vulgarity.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Do you want more tea?”

Loki glanced into his empty teacup, bemused to see the bottom.

“Yes, I suppose I would.” he said, setting it down for you.

He had tried to teach you the fine art of pouring tea, and you had finally managed to do it without dribbling, but, as Loki put it, you also did it without grace. He didn't say anything this time, just tightened his lips in a sarcastic way, and took a sip.

At least you knew how to make tea to his specifications. It wasn't difficult, once you had figured it out. Just measurements and timing.

He had devoured his muffin, so you brought him another. Loki was extremely particular about flavors; not adventurous at all. Even banana nut offended his senses. But cream cheese met his approval in every application so far, even if he did complain about the texture of bagels.

“You'll have to get me an Asgardian cookbook, if this keeps up.” you said. “I might be able to whip you up something that reminds you of home.”

“I do not necessarily always want to be reminded of home.” Loki said. “And some of our dishes take many hours, even days to make. I need you for more than that. You cannot be in the kitchen at every moment.”

You would never admit it to anyone, but you got a surge of secret pleasure every time Loki said that he needed you. You'd always enjoyed hearing it from others, but it was so much better coming from a god.

Though it did make you wonder if the isolation up here was messing with your head a bit.

“Besides,” he continued, “enough cheese, bread, and meat will approximate the diet well enough. Asgardians have high metabolisms, and require many calories, and so do I. Our active lifestyles tend to make us big eaters as well, although I do not get my usual exercises these days.”

“If you would actually give yourself the time to relax and heal, you might be able to get back to that sooner.”

“Yap, yap, you nag like a bratty lapdog.” He scorned. Your eyebrows skyrocketed.

“Well gee,” you said with exaggerated shock, “if you don't want me here, just go ahead and say so. I'll go downstairs and be a barista.”

“No, you cannot leave me!” There was a distinct waver in his voice. “I will be polite. You won't leave me, will you? I didn't mean it.”

“Loki.” you said, suddenly feeling guilty. He sounded like a scolded little boy, on the verge of tears. “I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry about that. You should be more polite though.”

He reached out gracefully and took your hand.

“Dear lady...” he began, his words slightly slurred, and you finally realized that the medicine was taking effect.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, filling his tea again.

“Strange.” he said. “I feel light, but like there is a weight upon my eyes. Light, but like I cannot lift my limbs. One with this chair. Melting into the floor. I do not hurt...it's been so long...”

He really was starting to tear up.

You took his tea from his trembling hand and grabbed up a tissue.

“Here you go.” you said, dabbing his eyes gently. “Go ahead and enjoy it. Pain shouldn't be an everyday thing for you, if it doesn't have to be. You don't have to feel bad for enjoying a little bit of peace.”

“No, you don't understand. I don't deserve this. The pain was at least something familiar. I don't recognize this feeling. This lightness. It doesn't feel real.”

“Well, you are real, and I am real, and the medicine is real. The feeling is the medicine acting on your perceptions, so it's kinda real, it's just different than usual, that's all.” you patted his hand, and he grabbed for yours.

“Will this feeling go away?”

“Of course!” you laughed, “don't worry, this is just temporary. It will help your neck, and when you're healed, you won't have to take it anymore.”

“What if I can't stop?” he asked. “I am...not good at refraining from...indulgence.”

“If no one brings you anymore, what could you do about it?”

“If I am healed enough to remove this brace? To move about freely? What could I not do about it?”

“You know, that's a good point. I think we'll have to find you some of that ultra-powerful super weed the cops keep saying totally exists, but no one else seems to be able to find.”

He gave you a sideways stare. “More poisons?”

“It's to help free you from the other poison. But there are multiple strategies for getting clean, if that really becomes a problem. It's not like I've never seen addicts before; I'll help you if you need me.”

He reached for your hand again, and missed.

“Blessed thing.” he blabbered. “You are a draught of Alfar wine, brewed under the starlight. The fresh breeze through the forests of Vanaheim, just after sunrise. You are the faithful moon, pure as gold.”

“And you are high as balls.” you teased, bashful about the flowery praise. You really shouldn't be pledging any more of yourself, but the allure of being needed-wanted even, was as addictive as any drug.

“You are the only once who may see.” he said. “I want no one else to see me like this. Stark especially. None save you may witness my dishonor.”

“Loki,” you mock-scolded, “if you keep looking at it like that, you'll impede your own progress. You'll fight it subconsciously, and just slow your healing down.”

“How, pray tell, should I look at it then?” he asked.

You took his hand, which was still waving around after yours.

“Look at it as permission. Permission to relax, to let the guard down and just exist for a while. You have everything you need right here, you can just be. It's okay to take some time to just be.”

“Just be what though? What is worth it for me to be?”

You shrugged. “A prince?”

“In exile.”

“A god?”

“Blasphemed rather than worshiped.”

“How about...my master?”

He squirmed a little in his chair.

“I could perhaps do that effectively.” he said quietly.

#betathetaandme #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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ringotheestarr · 4 years

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Leave Your Lover (Linda McCartney)

Paul was your friend. One of your best friends, even. You’d known him for a long time and been in his company consistently for the past few years. He considered you one of his closest allies and to hold that coveted title made you feel honoured. It wasn’t every day that the Paul McCartney went out of his way to make a person feel wanted and loved. But he did with you. That was why, when you realised you were in love with his girlfriend, you were beside yourself. You were confused. You didn’t know what to do.

Linda was Paul’s girlfriend. From the beginning, he knew his relationship with her was different and you’d heard nothing but great things about her. You were glad, after his breakup, he’d found someone to love. If anyone deserved a pure and epic love, it was Paul. You were rooting for him to find his soulmate. Just why did it have to be Linda? Linda, Linda, Linda. With her blonde hair, blue eyes and the smattering of freckles on her cheeks that made your heart beat faster and her beautiful smile that made your knees go weak. The woman who made you realise that, hey, maybe you did want to fall in love.

You first met Linda at Abbey Road Studios. She, understandably so, was nervous and clinging onto Paul’s side. She’d even brought her daughter, Heather, along. The both of them were absolute sweethearts.

“Hello,” Linda said, nervously. She gave you a small, shy smile as did Heather and you were taken with the both of them from that moment on.

You smiled back and introduced yourself, albeit more confidently and shook the both of their hands. You even introduced them around the studio while Paul was busy recording. Since you were a sound engineer, you knew the place like the back of your hand. The only reason you did that was to spend more time with Linda. You were so infatuated with her and you barely knew her.

Time progressed as Linda and Paul’s relationship began to get more and more serious. You tried to ignore the pang of jealousy you felt every time you caught them longingly glancing at each other or sneaking in a kiss. It should’ve been you nervously tearing your eyes away from Linda, feeling butterflies from her catching your gaze. It should’ve been you caressing her cheek lovingly and kissing her pink, plump lips. You longed to be her lover. Even more so, you longed for her to leave her lover.

“You’re starin’ again,” John pointed out, strumming the strings on his guitar. “You’ve been starin’ all day, you know.”

“No, I haven’t.” You felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. So much for pining in secret.

“Yes, you have,” stated John. “Keep looking like that and the whole world might think you’re in love with Paul.”

Paul? No, no, you weren’t stealing glances at Paul. Was that what everyone thought? God, was that what Linda thought? You debated about telling John your secret. It would be good to at least tell someone and not keep it to yourself. It wasn’t like you wanted anyone to know but you just didn’t want to keep it bottled up anymore. Especially if they all thought you were in love with Paul.

“It’s not Paul I’m looking at,” you told him, anxiously eyeing his reaction.

“Oh.” John kept strumming the strings before he paused and realised what you meant. “Oh.”

“Oh,” you repeated, pitifully.

“Does anyone else know?” John asked, to which you shook your head.

“It’s just you,” you said. You would’ve added you’d like to keep it that way but due to the severity of it all you knew he wouldn’t tell a soul.

“I can’t say I know how you’re feeling,” admitted John, putting his guitar down. “But you know she loves Paul, don’t you?”

That meant Linda was in love with Paul, not you and never would be. She loved Paul, adored him and no doubt was going to marry him. Not you.

“I know.” You nodded. You did know, but boy did it hurt to hear it out loud. She liked you, didn’t mind you around as you were Paul’s friend but she would never see you in the same way as she did with Paul.

“You’ll find someone, you know,” John tried to comfort you which wasn’t his strong suit but he tried, nonetheless. You were his friend and he didn’t want to see you hurting. “You’ll find someone who loves you how you love her.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You could imagine yourself with someone else but you didn’t want to.

“I’m afraid you’ve got no choice, my dear,” John told you truthfully.

What you wanted to do was profess your love for Linda. Tell her how much you couldn’t bare to be away from her for a second longer, run away with her and elope and live a happy life. Your whole world would’ve revolved around her, more so than it did already. Realistically, you professing your love for her wouldn’t go how you wanted it to. She’d let you down gently and, as nicely as she could, explain that she was only attracted to Paul. She’d say she saw you as a friend and only a friend.

You put your legs up and rested your chin on your knees. How sad you felt. How embarrassed. It was painful, oh so painful, when the love of your life didn’t love you back. Even more so when they didn’t know how you felt and never would because it was for the best. Linda had no idea how you felt about her and judging from what John thought, she might’ve thought you were in love with her boyfriend. That definitely wasn’t the case. You wanted her. You needed her.

“She’s happy with him, isn’t she?” You asked, trying to rid yourself of the requited love you had for your best friend’s girlfriend. “She loves him, doesn’t she?”

John nodded, his heart aching silently for you. It hurt him to see you suffering over a loss for someone you never had. His relationship with Paul was rocky but it wasn’t like he was in love with Linda on top of that. He wanted you to forget about the love you had for her and find someone else but he knew you wouldn’t. Not so soon, at least.

“Then that’s what’s important to me,” you decided. “I might not be the one but at least she’s found someone.”

“See, that’s the spirit!” John smiled. “You and me are going out tonight and getting shitfaced. Might not be the best remedy but it’s quite fun.”

John’s happiness was contagious and caused you to smile too. “Oh, John, where would I be without you?”

“Banging your head on the wall in despair probably,” deadpanned John. “But you’ve got me, so you’re alright.”

“Well, what’s going on here? What are you lot yapping on about?”

The atmosphere in the room changed upon Paul walking in and as soon as you saw Linda, your heart fell into your stomach. There she was, clutching onto Paul’s hand with a camera in her other hand. You looked away, briefly, trying to compose yourself.

“We were just talking about when you were going to hurry up,” John said. “But now you’re here, there’s no reason for us to yap.”

John looked at you, to see if you were okay, and you nodded. You weren’t okay and you wouldn’t be for now but you would be. As much as you wanted Linda to leave her lover, you’d just have to find one of your own.

#linda mccartney #linda mccartney imagine #linda mccartney x you #linda mccartney x reader #linda mccartney drabble #the beatles imagine #john lennon x you #john lennon imagine #paul mccartney drabble #paul mccartney imagine #paul mccartney x reader

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inspirationdivine · 4 years

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The Piano, Revisited || Simon and Lydia

Timing: Current Parties: @inspirationdivine, @inconvenientsimonstrocity Summary: It’s never just about a piano, or a dog.

Simon had to make several conscientious efforts to not go out of his way to make the place look unnaturally immaculate though he did the very best he could with what he was given - the couch was still worn but it now sat against the far wall next to the doorway that led to his bedroom. One could no longer tell there were birds in the house as every downy feather had been collected and discarded, his old television set having been disposed of and replaced with a small but superior one that was placed opposite the couch, next to the front door. His kitchen still needed to be remodeled but at least it was clean now with functional utilities. The beautiful piano Lydia had given him admired the sun coming through the fixed window that faced the wall entirely made of bookshelf. He himself sat at that piano patiently as he waited for his guest to arrive, learning a new melody from a random piano book he bought during his outing for supplies for his dog and pausing every now and then to collect the ball Beans brought him with obvious excitement, throwing it as far as it could go - he usually aimed under his bed as that encourage Beans to burrow. All things considered, given what happened last week, he was determined for this to be a light visit. The only thing keeping it from being perfect (aside from things he couldn’t control) was his near-constant sniffling.

Even when she wasn’t being petulant about the state of affairs, Lydia wasn’t… thrilled with the outer appears of Simon’s home. Rustic was a generous word, but one that local hipsters might have used, but Lydia wouldn’t have. If it hadn’t been for the man who lived here, she wouldn’t have given the place a second look. There was a bounce in her step as she walked up to his door, a gentle thrill. There had been a most welcome gap in her life in his absence, but it was still a gap. She’d grown accustomed to his gentle ways. Not immediately spotting a doorbell, Lydia gave a gentle knock. Well, it made sense that there wasn’t the sound of a doorbell because Simon took that bad boy out as soon as he moved in - that was high up on his priority list given his own… sensitivities. Both of them heard the knock almost simultaneously and Beans, not quite trained yet that knocking on the door did not constitute yelling at it, excitedly bounced around and yapped. Simon, who had trouble containing a smile in spite of the dog’s less-than-stellar behaviour, gently shushed his new companion and went to the door to open it for his old one; forcibly bonded once, now separated only from that invisible tether. He felt his heart flutter at the aspect of seeing her again though he still couldn’t figure out why. Scooping up the white terrier and holding him in one strengthened arm, he swung open the door. “Hey, Lydia,” He breathed, his smile widening for her; it hadn’t been that long but he felt an uncharacteristic longing to just… be near her again. “Er… come in,” He stepped aside to give her room, still holding the dog as he squirmed with… such excitement. SO EXCITED.

Despite, in theory, knowing that there was a dog there, Lydia still startled at the sound of excited yapping behind the door, although she’d smoothed her face by the time Simon had opened the door. His smile was a mile wide, and she smiled in return, in a lopsided smirking way. “Hello Simon,” she replied, before turning her gaze to the fluffy white dog in his arm, snuffling at her curiously. She offered her hand, gently curled, for the pup to sniff. She’d never had a pet in her life that didn’t answer back, but Lydia understood the simple, sweet pleasure of dogs. After a long, curious sniff and a quick lick of her knuckles, she seemed to have just enough of Bean’s approval to deserve a small pet. Lydia stepped inside, her glamour unfurling around her like sepals around a flower as the door was closed behind the two of them. “Wow,” Lydia said softly, looking around the space, transformed completely in the week since Simon had been back. Lydia turned to compliment him, but only then noticed the puffy red around his eyes. “Simon? Is everything alright? Have you been crying?” Once the door was closed, Simon carefully set Beans down where the dog proceeded to zoom around the house, passing by Lydia and stopping every time to sniff at her briefly as though every time was the first before rushing off again. Simon found it easier to keep his gaze on the animal than other people, even ones he knew like Lydia or Ariana but he managed to put his eyes on Lydia’s natural state once more, having since grown used to her ethereal beauty. His smile, though not dissipating, did falter ever-so-slightly when she asked about what he had been doing. He thought, for a moment, about telling her that he had been - every other wolf in their makeshift pack had been through an ordeal in some form or another, each one only bothering to tell him when he reached out… it wasn’t about him, it never was and that was fine but he felt like he worked really hard to maintain communication and, ironically, it always seemed to fall on deaf ears. He would’ve been lying. “No. Er, I mean-- yes, everything’s fine, relatively speaking” He stuttered out an answer, deciding to dodge it altogether though the mention subconsciously made him reach up to rub at one of his eyes with the heel of a hand as though that would fix it - but really, his eyes just itched. All the time. “Sorry.” And there came the first apology. “It’s really nothing.” He dismissed and looked away from her, motioning about the house. “I, uh… did some rearranging.”

Lydia crossed her arms, raising one sharp eyebrow. “Simon, I don’t believe you.” Relatively speaking meant that anything could be true. Relative to being dead, relative to being actively tortured. It wasn’t a lie, so it didn’t heat up any rage simmering inside her, but that didn’t make it true. He rubbed at his eye and perhaps without noticing, sniffled. She looked down to the dog, sniffing at her ankles, perhaps for all the solvent scents and human lingering on her. The dog tilted its head, as if listening for something, but then darted off to try to get off and under the couch. “My dear, your eyes are red. You don’t look well. If it’s really nothing, is it drugs? Are you unwell?” She wasn’t taking the bait. Well, it wasn’t even bait, it was just a distraction from himself, again, as usual. Even when Simon was at work, he kept his eyes on his hands in the bathroom due to lingering neglect for how he looked but she wasn’t the first person in the past couple weeks to say the phrase ‘you don’t look well’. Frankly, part of him didn’t understand; he didn’t think he ever looked particularly well between his wrecked diet and lack of good sleep. How far into denial was he willing to wade, was his new question. “It’s not… drugs,” He replied first, taking a step back and looking at the floor, his smile now only half-present and half-hearted. If anything, it was the LACK of drugs - nasal spray had been a bust, and he’d be ashamed if someone saw the veritable collection of different bottles he’d acquired and stored in one of his cabinets, none of which were prescriptions and all of them were at varying levels of empty; for the record, he DID take a… generous dose of… he couldn’t be arsed with remembering which one it was, anymore. Suffice it to say, his empty stomach didn’t agree with it. Maybe he should be honest; after all, it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s just alle-- uhm… Rhinitis,” He cut himself off with a harsh clear of his throat as if the word was uncomfortable in his mouth. Whyyyy did he say that. He rubbed his eyes again followed by his pointed nose and his nervous tic called his hand to the gnarled scars on his shoulder where he started to scratch at them. “Can I, er… get you anything to drink?” Take three. He wanted to move, he HAD to move but he found himself stuck in place as he was being scrutinised by Lydia, almost as if some part of him deep down was desperate to be confronted. He didn’t want that… did he?

“Don’t lie to me,” Lydia replied curtly, her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. “You don’t have to tell me, but do not lie. I can’t stand it.” She huffed, turning her scrutinising gaze to the dog, the worn couch, anywhere but him. Of course he had secrets, she did too, and their time of sharing so much didn’t mean they had to share now. She’d crunched her teeth together without even noticing it, her wings shifting under the shells of her elytra. The piano was there, open and in use, but Lydia was no longer so excited to see it. Clearly, she had misjudged, inviting herself into a space Simon didn’t really want her. She’d never loved talking on the internet, it was so hard to judge, and he was the type to not ask for anything he wanted unless she pushed it on him. He was also the type to never say no if she pushed something on him. “You can get me whatever you want, but I don’t drink.” Lydia replied, perhaps a little too sharply fae for the man she knew was only barely wolf.

"Lydia, I am terribly allergic to dogs." The sentence rumbled out of Simon’s mouth in a growl accompanied with the loud sound of ripping fabric before he had a chance to stop it and the millisecond the sentence ended, he brought a hand to his mouth similarly to how he did when he raised his voice to Nora. Her body language hadn't gone unnoticed by him as he felt her presence change; he upset her. "I-I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, feeling that his breathing grew erratic, the familiar sense of being confronted making him panic. Did HE want that or… Did the other one want it? "I shouldn't have snapped." He could say all he wanted in the way of apologies but he already snapped and it was his turn to avoid looking at her, glancing at the dog that had tilted his head at the noise and now pranced over to Simon as if smelling something very interesting to him. "I remember you don't drink." he gave a liquid sniffle and he pulled out a half-empty packet of tissues. "I wasn't lying, either, " he added just as quietly. "Rhinitis is scientific terminology. ‘Perennial Allergic Rhinitis’ is the full name." He didn't know why he added that but since he was already wearing on her nerves, he might as well go all the way.

Lydia took a step back when he growled at her, and fabric ripped around him. His trousers hung on his hips strangely as he backed up, and from one moment from being a towering pillar, he suddenly looked as small as she was, shrinking in on himself like a flower at night. She watched the way his long, wiry fingers dug into his pocket uncertainly, sniffling again, and his eyes looked like they might water. She swallowed, her ice blue eyes softening to brown glamours for a moment. Guilty. That was the name of this particular feeling. "Simon, I think this time I should say sorry, for accusing you of lying. You don't need to apologise for snapping, either. I was in the wrong. But…" Lydia hesitated for a second, looking back to Beans. "Simon, why did you adopt a dog if you're allergic? Why try to hide that?" It wasn’t Simon’s intention at all to scare her or even to get her to apologise; if he had just been honest with her in the first place, this whole thing wouldn’t have happened. If he were honest with HIMSELF, it wouldn’t have happened. The way she said his name seemed to calm him down, though he wasn’t sure why. He gulped and kept his head low, his brow furrowing. “Because… Deirdre couldn’t keep him,” He started; that was the reason for taking the dog. “And… I just--” He wiped his eyes with the tissue, feeling emotional tears starting to well and mix with the allergic ones that spiked his eyes as he forced himself to answer the rest. “This dog is the first creature I’ve ever interacted with that seems… happy to see me.” His voice wavered. “He doesn’t talk about me behind my back. He’s always excited to spend time with me, he looks forward to when I come home… He trusts in me, depends on me.” He wanted to stop everything; stop talking, stop being on the verge of crying, stop itching and sneezing and thinking, just stop. But he didn’t; couldn’t. “He makes me feel like I’m needed.” Every tear he wiped away on his face was replaced with a new one as he kept his gaze on Beans. “No one’s ever made me feel like that before.” He said with a timid certainty, even as he talked to Lydia because he knew she certainly didn’t need him. No one in what they called a “wolf pack” did, no other people he called friends in town did… “He makes me feel like I’m not so... alone.” Once he was done with his confession, he coughed out a broken laugh and blew his nose. “Sorry… ‘me me me’. I’m being selfish.” He gave a watery smile as he kept trying to clean up his face. “You weren’t in the wrong.”

Her hands curled over his. Lydia had stood still, listening to him as everything he’d hid fell out through crumbling walls. She’d taken in his tears, the way his head ducked and his chin trembled. At the end of all this, it was all she could really do, taking his hand in hers.Lydia opened her mouth, once, twice, and swallowed herself. There was a crease between her brows as she looked at him. Really looked at him, beyond the stickiness and the job and the musical skill. “Yes, You, you, you. I imagine that’s more you’ve said about Simon Donovan than you have all year. You don’t sound selfish, my love, you sound like you’re in need of someone to listen. Well, that and more tissues.” Lydia swallowed, and tugged him, gently, toward the couch. She thought of the message from Ariana, implying that they were wolves together. She thought of Regan, cordial at best. Nora, who was currently without name but had been taking care of Simon’s home. How she’d left when he’d snapped at her. “Simon, it’s okay to talk about things when you’re upset. I know… I’m not exactly approachable, but you can talk to me. It’s okay.” Simon felt her hands on his, how strange it felt but how it was something gentle against his white knuckles from how tightly they had balled. That was perhaps the first time someone who wasn’t in the process of hiring him had said his whole name and he gave another small laugh at her mentioning needing more tissues; she certainly wasn’t wrong with the mess he must’ve looked. He easily allowed himself to be led to the couch by her, feeling for a moment as heavy as the pressure was evident in his sinuses but the second he started to actually sit down, he felt a sharp pain as though someone had tried to pull on a limb so hard as to dislocate it. He felt his pelvis jerk forward to distance himself from the couch and felt something unfurl behind him, which gave him the okay to actually sit down this time as a long, thin, scraggly tail, very deep brown in colour, rested on the cushion next to him - and one he hadn’t paid ANY mind to and had no idea was there. They hadn’t sat for very long when Beans welcomed himself into Simon’s lap and tried as he did to get his tongue to connect to Simon’s face, the werewolf managed to keep the excited dog at bay gently. He listened to everything Lydia said carefully and though she said it was okay several times, he was having immense difficulty justifying his confession, hating that he put her on the spot like that. “It’s not right of me to put that burden on you,” He said, his voice scratching through the congestion and the buildup in his throat from crying. He cleared it and licked his bottom lip in thought, keeping his head down but looking at Lydia tentatively. “I’m not-- I shouldn’t be upset. I have nothing to be upset about,” He exhaled. He was silent for a long moment. “S… Thank you, Lydia.” His tone was… his. “For, uh… tolerating my childishness.” The timid smile that lingered on his face crept back on shyly. “You came to hear the piano, not to entertain my emotional outburst.”

Simon may not have paid any attention to the long tail he had suddenly sprouted, but Lydia sure did, eyeing it with concern for a long moment before looking back up at him. It wasn’t nearly sunset, nor near the full moon, so surely it was fine, right? Not a problem. She was interrupted by the little white fluff ball jumping onto Simon’s lap, clambering all over him. Lydia huffed a small laugh at Beans, but returned her keen eyes back to Simon himself, as he finally began to talk. “That’s funny,” she replied, her eyebrows raised. “It sounded like you had a lot to be upset about.” She leant back a little, against the back of the couch, and slowly put her hand on his shoulder. Slid it across his back. “Well, yes, I did come for one and not the other, but I also came for the pleasure of your company, Simon. All of your company, not just one convenient facet of it which suits my nebulous desires. If you don’t want to dwell, then we shan’t. Just don’t dismiss yourself for my comfort.” Simon hesitated to respond at first and only felt himself relaxing subconsciously when she put her hand on his shoulder, moving it to his back and he closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to stretch into her hand like, well, a dog nosing into the palm of their human to pet them some more but he refrained and took the simple gesture as it came; sweet, gentle, her connecting with him this time. “I, uh… enjoy your company, too,” He replied, opening his eyes again. He was still being honest and he didn’t even mean it in an intimate way; he just liked being around others. He always liked that. “I think I’m okay,” He responded after another pause. He gave her another smile. “Thanks again for--” And he suddenly stopped, his head tilting sharply as he heard what sounded like a rhythmic thumping next to him. He glanced down and almost jumped up from surprise when he saw the-- HIS tail wagging beside his leg. Was that his? Why did it look like that? WHY WAS IT HERE? He had some questions but not as immediately as the gasp that got caught in his throat pricked into his nose and he jerked his head sharply away from Lydia and the dog that had since lounged on his lap to sneeze. Twice. Three times. Four-- nope, only three. “Sorry,” He gasped, using a new tissue this time as Beans glanced up as if to ask what was going on and why his bed was suddenly spasming. “Th.. uh. This is new,” He remarked with a sniffle, pointing to the tail that stopped wagging. “I’m… sorry, that’s-- this is-- yes, I’d rather just… play the piano for you.” He concluded lamely.

“All right, my love,” Lydia said softly, patting his back before she carefully let him go, hand and back at once. She wouldn’t pry further, not when she’d caused this most recent bout of distress. He said he was okay, and she believed- Simon startled away from her as he noticed his own tail, and Lydia sat back to give him space as his whole body tensed. Was he about to shift? No, merely sneeze. “Indeed it is. Simon, darling, are you allergic to… yourself?” She asked curiously, and then nodded. “I’d love to hear you play.” For all intents and purposes, tail and ruined jeans aside, Simon did feel better. He dwelled in his thoughts often because he was the only person he had to share them with but even sharing them with Lydia accidentally relieved some of the pressure he had been feeling for several weeks now. And even if it was psychosomatic, that she had been lying through her pearly teeth, she told him that he could talk to her or at least mention when something was upsetting him. He still had trouble grasping the concept that it was okay for something to bother him to the effect that he should tell someone what it was but he attributed that unnecessary stubbornness to his not having anyone to talk to except for his parents for the duration of his life and it was something not worth discussing today after he had already accidentally broke down in front of her. He gave a couple pats to Beans’ hindquarters and the dog stood up in his lap, stretching for a moment before hopping down and he stood up shortly after, tail swaying down to rest behind him - that explained why his pants suddenly felt weird. He didn’t know he’d have THAT to look forward to. He… needed new clothes, anyway. “.... . Unfortunately, I am.” He hesitated, as usual, before answering her, finding that that was almost the most embarrassing thing he could’ve admitted. Despite not liking attention, it was hard to actually embarrass him - a lot of things rolled off his back but that one just… it irritated him mentally and literally. “It’s not usually that bad but I think--” He sneezed again. “The dog is exacerbating matters.”

Lydia tried quite hard to resist the smile that crept up across her face at his admission, so much more shyly admitted. She could almost see him flushing, Lydia thought. “Well that is rather ironic, I must say, and unfortunate. With or without the dog” Not quite as unfortunate as the gaping hole in his trousers, which was rather hard not to look at. The tear was much, much more bizarre than the tail that had caused it - fae had all sorts of anatomical peculiarities relative to many other species, and each was more beautiful than a plain human form. His discomfort was inescapable, but with time perhaps he’d adjust. Lydia trod carefully as Beans tried to follow them over to the piano, twisting in between their legs - in particular Simon’s - and smiled warmly at his set up. Her eyes drifted along the spines of the bookcase, all the sheet music he’d collected over the years. She’d been right to choose for him a piano with brown wood, not black, it would have stood uncomfortably in his home, whereas this fit in with everything else. “So what will you play?” Her patience with him was insurmountable, something Simon was sure to retain as far into the future as his memory would allow. His reddened gaze followed her astutely as she moved with her grace, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he noticed her active care in avoiding Beans, who was probably being a challenge by getting right in the way of where one’s feet should go. It was unfortunate, wasn’t it. He was unfortunate. He had snapped at people, not been available to help them with their problems, offered kind words but nothing else in the way of actually being assisting. He was infected with a parasite that disagreed with his genetic makeup; he was a right mess to look at and deal with, doubly so since the introduction of the dog, which she now knew why he clung to Beans so adamantly. His misery was worth every second so long as he had something… someone to spend his time with. He felt a weight, small but sharp, lifted off of him now that Lydia was sufficiently ‘up to speed’, at least in terms that immediately mattered. “I was thinking of Chopin this time,” He suggested, going over to the piano and sitting on the seat, lifting his tail as though it were the tailcoat on an expensive suit to drape over the back. He was not about to think about how long that would be out or what he’d do to hide it, not right now. Right now, he wasn’t lonely. Not with her and his dog near him to tolerate him, pretend to care, listen. As he rested his fingers on the keys and sifted through his mental library for the right song, he felt a sensation through him gently and a rhythm behind him, feeling the soft brushes of air that a wagging tail dispensed.

#wickedswriting #para #chatzy #simon #some bittersweet feelings on your timeline

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whatta-babe · 5 years

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When Life Gives you Lemons| Peter Parker x Gender Neutral Reader

WARNING: THIS IS SET POST-ENDGAME! CONTAINS SPOILERS SO READ WITH CAUTION! Also, super mediocre writing, so I’m really sorry.

Summary: It’s hard trying to go back to the way things were before the Snap, but hopefully with Ned and MJ’s meddling, Peter can start coping and even be happy again. Maybe the dog named Lemon and her pretty owner can help with that...

As much as Peter tried, he couldn’t quite get used to his new life. How could have the five hours he was gone really be five years?

Losing Tony was even harder for him. His father figure and role model was now gone for good. Sure Happy was trying, but it would never be the same. No one could ever rival Tony’s personality, jokes, teasing, nicknames, aura. The only one who came close was Morgan, and he was excited to see how she would turn out to be. Luckily, Pepper and her would drop by once a week or so to catch up.

A week after the second Snap, school resumed as if it had never even stopped, but the world around Peter had changed. With half of the world population gone it wasn’t like there were any technological advancements or anything but still. For example, his chemistry teacher had grown significantly wrinkled and gray- not from just age but with the grief of losing everyone he loved.

And Aunt May, oh god, it was impossible to imagine what she had to go through in those five years alone- first she had lost Uncle Ben and them her precious nephew, no, son. That had been a very tearful and unforgettable reunion.

At least the teen had MJ and Ned. With them, Peter could almost pretend that everything was normal, that he wasn’t falling apart inside, but they noticed that he was not the cheerful naive little nerd they knew and loved. And when it became clear that their dear friend still wasn’t adjusting to their new reality, they did what any concerned friend would do: put up a Facebook ad to find some cheap one-on-one dog therapy sessions. What? They had been all over the Internet before the Snap!

They knew that Facebook was an old people site, but one has to admit, word travels fast there, and so two days later, there was no surprise when a promising application came in.

Y/N L/N was a sixteen year old just like them, and while their dog wasn’t technically an official emotional support animal, they were offering a super affordable price. Ned booked two sessions a week for one month to start out- he had to see where it was going to go before booking more. He was really hoping that it would- one, because he wanted his best friend to feel better, and two, because-

“Not gonna lie, that puppy’s hella cute. I would totally steal it.” This type of praise from MJ was unprecedented.

Ned couldn’t help but agree. “I texted May and Old Captain America for permission- which I still can’t get over. How is he still so handsome when he’s practically one hundred years old?”

“Focus, you dweeb!”

“Oh- right, right- sorry. Hmm- yeah. The first session is in two days, so now we just need to somehow get Peter to the Avengers’ Compound 2.0 without being too sus or him figuring it out. It definitely would have been easier if we could do it at a park, but he needs some peace a quiet for this type of thing, you know? The dog owner won’t be too questioning about the location, right?”

Thus, operation “When Life Gives You Lemons” commenced. MJ, being the clever and sarcastic girl she was, had come up with the name- the dog’s name was Lemon.

Somehow, some way, Ned and MJ managed to get Peter to Upstate New York without him getting suspicious. Well…

“Where are we going, guys? To the Avengers’ Compound? Why would we be going there? Happy would have texted me to let me know if I had to come up-” The poor boy was squeaking himself into a frenzy.

After many more anxious questions (which received no answers to Spider-Man’s great annoyance), the three teens finally arrived, and it was just after they got out of the car when Ned put his hands on Peter’s shoulders.

“Look, bro. You’re my best friend, so you must be dumber than Jar Jar Binks if you think that I, your Man in the Chair and most amazing guy on the planet, didn’t notice that you were really struggling. You should have told me, Peter.”

The boy being scolded could only look down in shame. “I know. I should have… I’m sorry.”

“No hard feelings. Just talk to me next time.” Their “secret” handshake sealed the promise.

“This is tooth-rotting stuff, dorks, but there’s an appointment that can’t be missed.” Of course MJ decided to interrupt the moment. This was totally the opposite of the pain and suffering she loved to witness.

“Wha-” A dog’s bark cut through Peter’s confused exclamation.

The friends looked around to find a gorgeous teen jogging slightly towards them as a puppy pulled on the leash.

Once there was only a twenty yard gap between them, the newcomer released their grip on the leash and therefore released the only thing between the group and the hyper dog.

Lemon's brindle colored fur blurred into a streak of brown and black as she galloped towards them. On instinct, Peter kneeled to the ground with his arms open, and not 2 seconds later, she was in his arms, yapping happily as she licked and nipped at his chin in delight.

Peter giggled his cute little giggle as Ned and MJ quietly began to walk to the compound in order to let him be alone with Y/N and Lemon. It was only after they stopped in front of him that he looked behind him for support and found his friends gone.

He gazed up at you, but due to the harsh sunlight coming from above, all he could see was a halo of light as the rays hit the hair surrounding their face a creating a shadow that obscured their features.

Oh right! You have to introduce yourself, you idiot! "Hey! I'm Peter Parker." He clumsily stood up after putting the jumping dog to the ground.

His heart stuttered in his chest when he finally made eye contact with the stranger. He has never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. Sure he was Spider-Man and had amazing vision, but he hadn't been paying much attention to anyone but the dog when they were initially walking over. It was only now, face to face, that he could see them clearly.

You're body tingled at his stare, and you stuttered a soft hello before introducing yourself. You had not been expecting to see such a handsome boy, and you ached to thread your fingers through his wavy brown hair.

A hacking cough interrupted both teens’ daydreams, and they looked to down to see the pup chewing away at the grass. With a clear tsk of disapproval from her owner, Lemon stopped immediately, and they took this as their moment to explain what the situation was because Ned had let them know of the surprise part of the situation.

"This is Lemon, my 3 month old Dutch Shepherd, and your friends hired me to bring her here for a little bit of puppy therapy. Do you know what that is?" Peter's nod prodded them to continue. "For sessions of one and a half hours, two days a week, you can play with Lemon, hold her, talk to her, pet her, let her lay on top of you, anything like that. I always say that she loves strangers more than she loves me, and I can already tell that she’s obsessed you." Like me.

As a hopeless romantic you always wanted to believe in love at first sight, but the realist in you constantly nagged against it. But here this was, a feeling that you had never felt before, to the boy that was a stranger.

But you weren't going to let go of him easily. No, you had one month's worth of appointments that had been booked, and you were not going to waste any time in wooing him.

Peter was sure he was in love with this angel, and he was convinced that (eventually) he would win you over with his adorkable personality. His strategy? He could definitely use this dog as a way to both cope with the changes that coming back from the Snap brought and connect with her owner too. You know, when life gives you lemons...

#peter parker x reader #post endgame #gender neutral reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #dog #dutch shepherd #spiderman x reader #marvel #mediocre writing #tom holland x reader #tom holland #avengers endgame #marvel endgame

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abynauts · 5 years

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Ooh I almost forgot!

I wanna say congratulations to my beloved kpop group :) Monsta X! They have 4 wins consecutively o.o I am very proud of them ;-;

Flashback: I have been a fan of them since their hero era o.o 2015, I was 2nd year college, study was easy back then ;-; but yea, struggles lvl up one way or another. I wasn't a big fan of kpop, I totally despised them because people spend to much of their time to them and I think it was foolish (that was me back then lol), until I had a friend, who was into kpop. She was my friend since first year and she is kind of an introvert and I get less and less conversation with her each day... I feel sad but she was true which makes me stick with her a bit. She kept suggesting kpop groups which I don't check them xD til, she told me 'hey there's a group named monsta x, but nevermind, u never check all the groups I suggest'... Then I was provoked, I checked them xD wanting to prove her wrong lol first I watched rush, I first liked minhyuk cuz his hair was different and easily to distinct him from the others. Then jooheon, cuz his hair also aaaand he raps cool. Then trespass, until....... Hero. Yap, I was converted and all my beliefs were changed in life xD kpop is a wonderful culture.

So, yap I have been witnessing their progress throughout the years and I am happy to know them better. I fell inlove with them, not only because of their music, also the way when they remove my sadness throughout the day, they are my happy pill! Hmmm I get to pick my bias when my told me she doesn't like hyungwon and told me to not like kihyun cuz it's her bias xD she's so cute and childish xD she hates hyungwon because everything is unnatural for him... The lips mostly. I have a keen eye for what people hate and I try to understand why they are being hated xD I sometimes side those who are hated xD I dunno why?

Hyungwon (bias, ex bias wrecker lol) I watched no mercy and my first bias was Jooheon. I dunno given that he is talented I tend to view the other members than him. Then there, I focused on my friend's hated member: hyungwon. I dunno... But like hyolyn, he's my type xD physically, I'd prefer someone with a bit of fat but ho no no he tall... Like wow, I fell inlove with height and the mole on his lips, and his chubby cheeks, and his eyes that disappears when he is too happy. Hmmm AND HIS ATTITUDE, fallen even harder when he pretended he was mad at #GUN... I got scared and seeing him angry was whoah. This guy is talented, I wish someone hired him on a kdrama (he was in kdrama in the future and he was shirtless hoho), then.... Dear, his voice... Starship y u no give him lines????? Have u heard him singing "officially missing you", "no diggity", "interstellar"........ It feels so good hearing him sing, I would listen to his voice a hundred times, but y starship ;_; y some tracks of their song he doesn't have a line or or he just go with the line that completely not his voice?????? I wanna cry lol, but alas, due to that, hearing him sing even with least lines is precious :< tho I want more lol. So yea, thank you concerts for giving him recognition on his voice for "feels so good" and "fake love". Have I forgotten anything else? His gahd choreography skillszsz, I love love love how he does it. It's elegant and snappy and elegant and perfect and elegant, I dunno, mebe because of his lean structure, he is like an egress under the moonlight. Blessing you with his presence on the dance floor. Like it his sixth sense, he does it effortless and still looks beautiful. Hmmm I love how he is kindof a granpa lol I kinda like men who appreciates women being conservative, with integrity... I dunno, the old fashioned type of gal. But he appreciates strong will old fashioned type :< my heart is too small to make decisions huhu anyways, him also being a laid back person :> even if life is kinda hectic, enjoy it with the small things and SLEEP. I loved sleeping because of him, I never cared for sleeping, like why sleep? Until, I slept a lot because I am sad and I want the day to get over :< sleep is good because u can run away from reality and also regenerate ur tired soul :) just think of it, it's for ur health! I also love his jokes, corny or not, I just love him being a witty poet xD there's only one like him... I wish before I leave earth, senpai would notice me, fan cafe or concert ;^; tell him that he helped me whenever I was sad.

I remember of that issue, where he had a girlfriend. Hmmm, I dunno, I was sad but not mad or betrayed. I am happy that he got one, at least it clarifies that he is not... Gay... Err sorry ;-; it's fine if he is, I'd still love him. Oh u know how ships can make your imaginations go wild. I would fall in love with him if I were a boy... How do the members prevent themselves from liking each other (or they have olredi ;)) welp. Back to where we were, u know how the members back then like hw to be their bro in law if ever they have a sister and whose member they would like for her to marry and most of them chose hw. Proof that he is a worth boyfriend!!!!! Like when wonto said that he is like a sunflower who will only look at the sun :) I think he really loved her and I guess with them rising as a star and keeping their relationship as a secret... It's really hard. You can't be proud with the treasure they have. I dunno, if he had a gf again, I wish fans and non fans would be supportive. Good thing starship was understanding about it back then and now. What if it was ur fellow monbebe? Won't fans be proud and protect their fellow monbebe????? Hmmmm?? I love our fandom :) mature and kind and hardworking and humble like monsta x... We both define each other ;-; well that's for hw, will love him all the way!

Back to mx. Congratulations again! You guys works so hard every comeback! You guys never stop trying and testing deep waters and here you are, deserving all the praise and recognition that was longing to be given! I am happy that you don't give up, let's keep this momentum :) because with all these hardwork, an ultimate grand plan is ahead :) everyone in the world loves you, so I hope Korea completely wakes up. Like I have said billions of times, you guys are very humble :) since hero era til this day, u guys ;-; u bowed really low, hitting ur foreheads to the floor, thanking monbebe is so... The most humble thing I could ever love ;-; God raises those who are humble, so never lose that Monsta X! Love your brothers, love monbebe, be a good example to this generation because a lot of people look up to you, even me :) love lots 💜

#uhh this so late lol #its now or never xD #just proud mama who is late posting sarreh #love them #also a hyungwon appreciation post lol #and how great monsta x is ;-;#oke im done

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yurihakamori · 6 years

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Here we go anon! Since you didn’t specify it, I made it a non despair au, I hope that’s okay with you.

Animator Kokichi is grumpy and I love him

Relationships: Kokichi Ouma & Rantaro Amami & Kaede Akamatsu

Words: 1.8k

Rating: T (for language)

Warnings: None

N/A: Upon @screeching-starz‘s request, Kaede is also switched; she’s the ultimate musician (Ibuki’s talent).

Kokichi counts the minutes to himself as he watches the three students blabbering at him; he isn’t really listening to them – honestly, listening to an imaginary clock ticking in his head is far more interesting than anything his underclassmen have to say.

He makes a point of checking his nails disinterestedly, jaw cracking into a wide yawn. The three finally pause the excited yapping, glancing between themselves before looking at Kokichi with uncertainty.

“Oh, are you guys finished? Man, I really thought you guys would keep going for an entire hour!” He grinned with a cheerfulness that looked too sharp on his lips. “You did manage to go over fifteen minutes, though. I’m impressed by you guys’ score!”

The more Kokichi spoke, more the other students grew with restlessness. It took all of his willpower not to laugh when he saw one of them, a boy with a horrendously bright hair, elbow his friend so she would be forced to step forward. Her pigtails swished as she wiped her head to glare at her friends, then back to him with a smile.

“Uh, sorry, we don’t really understand what… You’re talking about. Are we being a bother?” She finally said, her overly sweet voice grating on Kokichi’s nerves.

He almost let out a cutting remark about how looking cute doesn’t really hide her ugly personality, but he held back. Kokichi wasn’t exactly in the mood to be called a hypocrite, on top of the general annoyance that just being in school was.

Instead, he chuckles and tilts his head.

“Usually people realize I don’t really care about what they have to say in less than five minutes,” he explains, blinking innocently.

The girl is suddenly stunned into silence; her other friend, however, with stern, serious face that gave off the most irritating “proper” aura, didn’t seem to take it too well.

“Don’t you think it’s more than a little rude to be so dismissive when someone is showing interest in your talent?” Proper Boy asks, arms crossed.

He’s way taller than Kokichi is, towering over him in way that would be intimidating, if Kokichi was bothered to give more than a singular fuck.

“What, you want me to pretend this is fun, instead? Well, too bad, I don’t feel like it!” Proper Boy clenches his jaw, and Kokichi doesn’t miss how Bright Hair holds Cutesy by her arm to hold her back.

That’s more interesting than anything they’ve said in the past eighteen minutes.

“Sorry for bothering you, we’ll be going,” Bright Hair says quickly, dragging both of his friends away from Kokichi.

He hears the girl spit out under her breath how ungrateful Kokichi is, the others agreeing with annoyed mumbles of their own.

He yawns again.

“Seriously, are you on a quest to be the Ultimate ass as well as animator?” Someone suddenly says from directly behind Kokichi, who swirls around without much of a fuss, recognizing the voice with ease.

“Oh, you know how it is, I can’t lose my title of number annoyance!” He smiles. “What about you though, sneaking behind me and listening to my conversations in secret… Don’t be a pervert, Amami-chan, that’s gross!” Kokichi sticks his tongue out at said boy, making a disgusted face.

Amami raises his hands in innocence.

“I wasn’t doing anything suspicious like that. I was just wondering what poor soul you were torturing this time when you took so long,” he casually explained, raising a lunch box he was holding in his right hand to dangle it before Kokichi’s eyes.

He stared at it, hunger abruptly making itself known.

“Did my dear Amami-chan bring me food? How thoughtful of you!” The animator didn’t waste time in jumping at it, holding the box protectively to his chest.

Amami wasn’t all that bothered, leaning down to ruffle his hair; Kokichi swatted at his hand in irritation, cheeks puffed out.

“You always steal my food anyways, might as well make some for you.” Amami gestured for Kokichi to start walking, probably in the direction of the roof, where they usually ate together with Akamatsu. His friend eyed him with a clear undertone of disapproval. “Besides, you’ll just forget about eating if I don’t give it to you. Did you even bring anything today?”

“Of course I did, I have Panta and a whole bag of candy!” Kokichi protested, though his focus was on opening his lunch box and checking its contents.

Amami raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Soda and candy aren’t actual food, you sugar addict.” He sighs.

Kokichi is too busy eating to reply to that; not only that, but he doesn’t feel like discussing his unhealthy eating habits again.

“So, what’s up with all those kids?” Amami asked, as the animator already expected he would.

“Oh, you know,” he mumbled through his mouthful of rice. At the glare he gets from Amami for that, Kokichi pointedly chews on his food and swallows it down before speaking again. “Just the usual ‘wahh, I heard you’re animator, that’s amazing!’. I think one of them said something about drawing stick figures, and what anime did I like. Boring stuff like that.”

Amami chuckles sheepishly, scratching his cheek.

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad, right? At least they didn’t ask you to draw something for them this time.” He shrugged.

“That’s a really low bar, Amami-chan.” Kokichi huffed. “It’s boring, I don’t wanna talk to them.”

“You don’t want to talk to anybody,” Amami points out.

“Exactly! My dear Amami-chan understands me so well, that’s why I love you!” He bats his eyelids cutely, though the effect is probably lessened by food all over his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go and become a complete shut-in, you already look like a vampire.” He eyed Kokichi’s pale skin, who pouted in response.

“My skin is delicate and beautiful, you’re just jealous of it.”

The conversation trailed off into silence, which didn’t particularly bother the animator. Honestly, he preferred it to stay that way, since he could see the pensive expression his friend always got right before breaking into some ‘serious conversation’ about the latest thing Kokichi did to worry him.

Amami worried too much, really.

They get as far as the last flight of stairs without any words being said, enough to fool Kokichi into thinking he’s off the hook this time. But then, Amami grips his wrist, stopping the animator in his track. He pulls away from the sudden touch, his friend wincing as he easily lets go.

“Hey, so. How is your animation going?” He asked, way too casual to be actually casual.

“I restarted it,” Kokichi deadpans, sounding bored by the question.

“Oh, that’s a lot of work to redo,” he commented.

“Yup.”

Amami opened his mouth to say something, but was abruptly cut off by quick footsteps approaching them and, soon enough, a girl crashed right in the boy’s back. She groaned in pain.

“That’s one way to greet someone,” Amami said with a chuckle.

“What are you doing standing around on the stairs, geez…” The girl whined. Akamatsu, with her stupidly colorful outfit, turned to Kokichi with a smile. “Are you guys having a secret party?”

The smaller boy rolled his eyes, while Amami laughed.

“Nah, I was just having a talk with Ouma,” the green haired boy said, giving Akamatsu a meaningful look, who returned it. Amami made a not so subtle gesture of the head towards Kokichi.

Seriously, what do they think they’re doing, he’s literally right there.

“Ko-chan, Ko-chan! So, how are you doing?” Akamatsu asked excitedly, approaching Kokichi and making grabby hands at him. “You haven’t been to school for a whole week, I missed you!”

The girl had way too much enthusiasm and honesty for Kokichi to handle even on a good day.

“Akamatsu-chan really can’t live without me, huh? You’re like a reverse slut. A love slut.”

Despite his words, Kokichi opened his arms and let Akamatsu hug the breath out of him. Over her shoulder, he looked at Amami for help, making sure all of his pain is apparent in his face. The boy just gives him a thumbs up.

Traitor.

“I already told you to call me Kaede!” She immediately says upon realizing him. The musician managed to have more pent up energy than Kokichi has, which never ceased to amaze him.

How anyone kept up with her songs were beyond him.

“Ok, Akamatsu-chan,” he sarcastically replied.

Akamatsu pouted, walking to Amami and whining to him about how Kokichi wouldn’t show her any affection, and he rubbed her back in sympathy.

“Our son is such a mean little man, even though we raised him so well,” Amami said to her, sniffling exaggeratedly.

Kokichi throws his chopsticks at him, hitting Amami square on the face.

Score.

“You two are annoying, seriously.”

Akamatsu looked at the red marks on her taller friend’s cheek left by the chopsticks.

“A mean little man indeed.”

Kokichi was ready to hit her with the entire lunchbox, but she turned back to him with a soft, but firm eyes. Oh, it’s scolding time. Great.

“Did you collapse again?” She asked with a worried voice. The animator didn’t reply, raising an eyebrow in fake confusion. “Don’t give me that face, you know what I’m talking about. You promised to come to school more often, then you disappear for a whole week without saying anything. I was worried sick, you know.”

He smiles, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“You’re such a worrywart, Akamatsu-chan! I just got sooo engrossed with the animation, I didn’t even realize the time! Besides, you really shouldn’t so easily believe someone just because they promise something, that’s stupid.”

Akamatsu obviously looked put off by the last part, but Amami wasn’t fazed, offering him a wry smile.

“You’re a difficult person,” Kokichi snorted, “to put it simply. But you don’t promise things you don’t actually mean.”

Oh, he noticed that, huh. Look at that, it’s time to change the subject.

“Like I said, you two worry too much, I’m fine!” He gestured to himself. “See? All good!”

Akamatsu and Amami exchanged a look, sighing in unison.

“Okay, if you say so.” The other boy said, his words stopping the musician, who looked like she had more to say. “C’mon, I’ll buy you grape juice so you don’t drown your blood in soda.”

Both Akamatsu and Kokichi whine at the same time.

“After going all the way up the stairs?” He complained.

“I’ll buy you two boxes of juice,” Amami bargained.

“Can I have strawberry milk?” Akamatsu asks.

“Yeah, sure,” the tall boy replies, getting a cheer from Akamatsu for it.

Kokichi, who clearly has no other choice but to follow them – especially when Akamatsu is looking at him with puppy eyes –, sighs and resigns himself to put up with their pestering.

Only because he’s being forced to, of course.

#kokichi ouma #kaede akamatsu #amami rantarou #ndrv3 #danganronpa #strawberry syrup #fanfic #mine #both the ou//mami and the ama//matsu can be seen as either platonic or romantic

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fuckyfarnes · 6 years

Text

Santa Buddy

It was my pleasure to be part of the @mattelektrasecretsanta this year and I’m so happy I was. Merry Christmas Babbles @babblesthemomfriend! I hope you enjoy your fic!

Sincerely, your Secret Santa!

Title: Santa Buddy

Matt and Foggy find a dog, but is Elektra even a dog person?

Santa Buddy

The smell of wet fur was the last thing Elektra expected to come home to - well not the last thing, but it was up there. Sighing, she slipped off her boots and jacket, and walked into the living room. Sure enough Matt was on the couch towel drying a wiggling pile of fluff. His shirt was soaked through and his pants looked to be in a similar state, but he was smiling so sincerely it made Elektra’s chest ache.

“Matthew,” she said. “What’s going on here?”

“Foggy and I found her in an alley!” he said excitedly. “She didn’t have any tags or anything.”

“And you didn’t bring her to a shelter?”

“It was way too late for that,” he said.

That was a complete lie seeing as it wasn’t even nine yet, but she chose not to call him on it. “What’s her name?” she asked.

Matt blushed. “I don’t know,” he replied.

“Come on Matthew,” she teased. “What have you named the poor creature?”

“Princess,” he mumbled.

“Princess,” she couldn’t believe her ears. The helpless animal was rescued from the street only to have been given a ridiculous name.

“Before you say anything, Foggy and I wanted to let her know that she’s safe and loved now. She deserves to have a good life after living on the street,” he said and made Elektra’s heart swell.

Matt had the purest heart of anyone, she knew that already, but that was definitely a refresher. He never ceased to amaze her with his kindness.

“I know you’re not really an animal person but Foggy can’t keep her and she’s got no place to go.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I thought you knew me better than this.”

“Elektra-”

“We’ve got to get her some tags and vaccinations,” she said and shifted closer to the two of them. “Then of course she’ll need other things; I have no idea what or how much but it’ll add up soon enough.”

“I’ve got that internship,” he added.

“What I’m saying is that she’s going to get whatever she needs and then some.”

Matt beamed at her and Princess yapped happily. “Hear that Princess,” Matt crooned. “Mommy Elektra is just as happy to have you as I am!”

“Mommy Elektra,” she muttered. Maybe that was a little much.

As it turned out, most of Princess’s fluffiness was matted fur. Upon going to the vet Princess was identified as a pitbull mix and given her basic shots, as well as given a check up. She was underweight but thankfully not severely and surprisingly healthy given having lived on the street.

“She’s a very happy girl,” Dr. Rand said and scratched behind Princess’s ear gently. “And she’s very cute.”

Princess’s tale wagged and she nudged Dr. Rand’s hand for another scratch. “You’ll need to go to city hall and get a proper licence in order to register her legally, but she’s good to go other than that.”

“Here Princess,” Matt all but chirped and Princess got down off the table, strode over to him, and sat down at his feet. She looked up at him with such love in her eyes - Elektra was shocked to see that expression on an animal. Princess clearly adored him even after such a short time together.

Elektra knew the feeling very well.

“So we just need to go to a pet store to get things for her?” he asked.

Dr. Rand nodded. “We sell dog food here - only the healthiest of course - and you can get a temporary collar if you wish.”

“How about we buy the food here, Matthew?” Elektra asked. Getting the healthiest food for their little girl was a top priority - dear god, she was beginning to think like Matt would. “It’s only right to get her the best there is.”

Matt smiled at her so sweetly it hurt. “Sounds good to me,” he replied. “Doesn’t that sound good, girl?” he cooed and pet Princess’s head. Her tail beat against the floor and her tongue lolled out happily. She had to admit that Princess was very adorable and sweet.

“Alright,” Dr. Rand said. “I’ll get you all set up.”

They ended up leaving the vet’s office with two big bags of dog food, a small box of bags for her droppings, and a temporary

collar. Getting her a licence was surprisingly easy given how terrible and tedious dealing with government representatives usually was; Matt took the lead on that and had the clerk eating out of his hand in minutes. He was way more of a people person than she was, so she and Princess stayed outside the building on a bench. It turned out to be somewhat of a bonding time because of the reaction of people passing by.

Everyone who took the time to get a look at Princess looked either appalled or freaked out. She was easily identifiable as part pitbull now that her fur was brushed out and pitbulls were regarded as a breed to be feared. Every time anyone looked at her sideways Elektra glared at them,

daring them to say something. She wouldn’t hesitate to defend Princess because she was incredibly sweet and didn’t deserve to be treated that way— she also knew what it was like to be looked at like that and didn’t want that for anyone else.

A man stopped and stared at the two of them warily. “Is that a pitbull?” he asked.

“Partly,” she replied cooly.

“You really shouldn’t have one of those on the street without a muzzle,” he said and continued to stare at her. “They’re dangerous.”

“People are more in danger of getting bitten by me than they are of anything by her,” she said with a completely straight expression. The man recoiled and walked away muttering to himself.

Princess turned to look at her and tilted her head to the side. “I know,” she said. “People can be complete swines about things they know nothing about. But I know better than to accept that kind of behaviour — I won’t let anyone be mean to you ever again.”

Princess barked and nuzzled Elektra’s arm. The dog was just oozing affection

and gratitude. Elektra smiled and gave Princess’s head a few gentle scratches to appease her. “I have to admit it; you’re quite adorable,” she said softly. “Thankfully Matthew and Foggy found you.”

Matt cleared his throat from behind her and the two of them turned to look at him. Princess’s tail thumped against the ground eagerly. Elektra blushed and scratched her head again.

“Not a word,” she said and got a snort in reply — she couldn’t tell if it were Matt or Princess who did it.

Princess turned out to be a wonderful companion for both Matt and Elektra. Although Matt had never wanted a service dog he bought her a little vest and started taking her with him whenever he could. She was a dutiful little angel and listened to whatever he said despite having not been trained.

Elektra found herself falling — Princess became like a daughter to her, she was part of their little ‘family’ in no time. She spoiled Princess like no other; she brought her treats whenever she came back home and even began to order clothes for her. It was easily the best decision she’d ever made because there was nothing cuter than a dog wearing clothes. As the weather got colder Princess’s closet expanded into coats and boots, which were easily the most darling things she’d ever seen.

But they paled in comparison to when she found out about dog costumes. Sure she’d seen dogs wearing them before during Halloween and they’d been cute, but she hadn’t given them much thought before Princess. Halloween had long since passed and left Christmas in its wake, which meant a variety of holiday costumes to choose from. Princess started wearing Santa suits and ugly Christmas sweaters, even little hats. Elektra made sure to get very textured things so that Matt could feel just how ridiculous they were and enjoy them too.

“Come on Princess,” Elektra cooed and aled her out of the apartment. The building’s walkway was unshoveled and Princess wasn’t a big fan of snow, so it was a harrowing task to get her to go out for her daily walk. Elektra wasn’t the type to give up though. “It’s okay, the snow won’t hurt you.”

Matt snickered and she rolled her eyes at him. “It would be nice if you helped, Matthew,” she said.

“I think you’ve got this under control,” he replied. Princess turned to him and whined loudly in protest.

“We have the only dog in Hell’s Kitchen who isn’t loving this snow,” Elektra muttered. “Ridiculous.”

“She’s shivering!” Matt gasped and knelt down, letting Princess huddle close to him. “Her fur isn’t thick enough for this!”

“Matthew, her fur is definitely thick enough. Dogs get winter coats and she’s wearing a jacket,” she assured him.

He didn’t look all too convinced, and Princess’s continued whining did nothing to help the situation. She trembled and pressed closer to him, blocking out Elektra completely. She knew then that it was a trick; Princess was playing on Matt’s emotions in order to avoid going on a walk when she didn’t want to because she knew he was the weaker link out of the two of them.

Truth be told, Elektra couldn’t have been more proud.

Every year, as soon as Christmas rolled around, Elektra started finding mistIetoe around their apartment. It was a tradition that Foggy had started playing on Matt during their college days that had managed to stick around after, and Matt

took it upon himself to continue it when he and Elektra moved in together.

But mistletoe was dangerous for pets, so that year there was no mistletoe anywhere.

It was strange to deal with because when it was happening, Elektra didn’t care one way or another, but now that it wasn’t an option it was depressing. She missed randomly finding pieces in her shoes, in the shower, and many other ridiculous words places, and had grown to love the tradition without really noticing. Every time she came home she found herself looking for any sign of mistletoe and never found any, but losing out on it was a small price to pay for Princess’s health and safety.

But Matt wasn’t one to let things go so easily.

By the time Elektra managed to get home on Christmas Eve, it was after nine and she was exhausted. Being stuck in traffic was a harrowing affair and being at work that day had been a huge waste of time; everyone was frazzled and annoyed to be at work instead of having a day off, so getting anything done was like pulling teeth. All she really wanted to do was get into bed and sleep for a solid week, regardless of the fact that she, Matt, and Princess had to go to a big family party the next day.

There was a plate of Chinese food waiting for her when she got home, but Matt and Princess were nowhere in sight. Truth be told she wanted to get into bed with Matt and sleep for a week because they hadn’t been seeing much of each other. She was never one to express emotions very well, but she missed him dearly and oftentimes wanted to be around him whenever she could. She left the plate in the kitchen and looked went to the bedroom, finding Princess asleep in her dog bed at the bottom of their own.

Again, Matt was nowhere in sight.

The quiet of the house made tears randomly well up in her eyes and she slumped down on the edge of the bed. The day really had taken it out of her and she hadn’t expected to be alone that night. Even Princess was sleeping and she couldn’t wake her up - she needed sleep even if Elektra needed comfort. Matt was probably out preparing for Christmas dinner with Foggy and Karen, so she had no reason to be so upset, but she was. She wanted him to be there for her after not really having time with each other for a week.

Elektra sniffled and wiped at her eyes angrily. The sudden sadness was extremely frustrating and she wasn’t about to let it happen for much longer. She stood up and quickly undressed, changed into her pajamas, and climbed into bed. If she was spending Christmas Eve alone, then she was going straight to bed.

Naturally as soon as her eyes closed she heard noises coming from the living room. She rolled her eyes and pulled the blanket over her head, not even bothering to get up. If it’s a murderer, they’ve got another thing coming, she thought and shut her eyes tightly.

“Princess,” she heard Matt whisper. “Come on sweetie, wake up.”

Princess’s nails clacked against the floor and she heard the sound of a bag rustling. Princess yapped and Matt made a gentle noise to placate her all while still rustling the bag. Matt cursed a few times and knocked into things, but eventually stopped.

“I know you’re awake,” Matt said to her. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, Matthew.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. The worry in his tone made her take the blanket off of her head and her annoyance drained out of her immediately.

Matt was decked out in a shirt with knitted mistletoe on it and had a mistletoe headband on. Princess had one on too and was sitting patiently at Matt’s feet. When she saw that Elektra was awake her tongue lolled out happily and she dove up onto the bed.

“You got mistletoe?” she asked softly.

Matt grinned and nodded, the mistletoe on his headband bobbing along with him. “It’s a tradition, right?”

She couldn’t hold back a giggle, which promptly turned into a laughing fit.

“A tradition is a tradition, Ellie,” Matt said, his voice leaking with happiness.

“Get over here,” she said once she stopped laughing. “I owe you something.”

Matt grinned and made his way to her. Just as their lips brushed, Princess dove in between them because she was wearing mistletoe too - so naturally she deserved some kisses too.

#mattelektrasecretsanta #mattelektra #mo made

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dovekun · 7 years

Photo

—POEM—

the ultimate example of a pretty boy a pretty boy just like an angel his blonde hair and emerald eyes the color of the bottom of a lake even those beautiful lips only prove to bring out of his strong personality like the sunlight making people want to run together with him making it hard not to notice him

♚ ♚

“… What are you reading, Greta?”

(It sounds like a poem to someone so dearly admired, but—no, wait a second! D-d-don’t tell me—! Is it written by Greta—?! Our precious daughter?! But, but, but! Greta is still an innocent and pure child! No way our daughter would have someone she dearly so admired unless they were Yuuri and I, her beloved fathers, or Mother or that certain magicalist Lady or Gisela or—)

“Who is this person?! A man?!”

“Wolfram? Wolfram, what’s wrong? Why Wolfram’s cheeks turned whiter and then now is turning red so fast? And, and! Why Wolfram’s facing and yelling at the wall of Greta’s Study Room? I-is Wolfram angry … with Greta?”

(Oh, damn ShinOu! What a despicable father I could be! Carelessly scaring Greta—! Get a grip, get a grip, and turn the fire down! Apologize right now!)

“No, I really am sorry. Please forgive me. It’s not my intention to be … angry? I am not angry. Definitely not angry with you, Greta. It is just—I am concerned. Uh, with the poem you have just read …”

“Oooh! This poem? Un! It’s about an angelic pretty boy~!”

“Boy …”

(A boy! Who is this boy?! How dare this boy made an appearance and captured Greta’s attention without me and Yuuri’s notice—? No, no, don’t tell me—is it that Pakiri or Pachiri or Pa-something boy?! With the beautiful singing voice?! I should have known! I should have known that boy couldnot be trusted! Damn him to Seisa! Damn him to Shinzoku! Slimy little boy just like that glasses king of Shou Shimaron! Aaargh! Yuuri! I should tell Yuuri about this dangerous predicament—)

“… and honest and beautiful and touching! And it’s also easy to understand with simple words and lines unlike those books Gyungyun-sensei asks Greta to read relentlessly! As expected from Yuuri~! Despite the written looks a bit sloppy, but Greta really can’t stop reading this diary~!”

(… Huh? What is she talking about?)

“Diary?”

“Un! Yuuri’s Diary!”

“… But the cover is unfamiliar blue with—are those bees and honey stamps?”

“Un! Aren’t they adorable~? There’s also the gold coloured one that Greta would like to read for reading material after this diary and that diary with the cute bear-cub stamp!”

“… So. The poem about that slimy—uh, I mean, the poem? It is not written by Greta?”

“Eeeh~~? Greta is still learning to read, Wolfram!”

(What’s with that defensive tone of voice?)

“… But I believe Greta is able to write either. Your journals for homework are the proof of that certain capability, Greta.”

“Uum, weeell … But not like this beautiful poem of Yuuri’s, though …”

(Uwaa, a blush! A blush! Oh, how cute and humble our daughter is! Just as like her father, Yuuri!)

“… Hm? Wait a second. So, if it’s Yuuri’s, then—”

(Yuuri is writing a poem about a boy—no, no, some other person he dearly admired—)

“…”

“Wolfram?”

“… Huh. Of course.”

“Eh?”

“Yes, yes. I should have guessed sooner. It is definitely about Conrart. This poem.”

“Conrad? But—”

“Say, Greta? Is there another poem? Would you read it for me?”

“Uummm, Wolfram? Greta doesn’t think these poems are about Conrad, but … okay … Here’s the first poem, then.”

♚ ♚

a sonorant alto voice as soon as i look up this beauty enough to make him glow as if he walks around with a halo his dazzling blond hair transparent white skin emerald green irises that remind me of the bottom of a lake it’s an angel one of beautiful mazoku

♚ ♚

“So? How is it? What does Wolfram think? It’s not about Conrad, right?”

“… ‘One of beautiful mazoku’—he said? … Günter?”

“Eeeh~~?! But, but! Blond hair? White skin? Green irises?”

“… If it’s an angel, then … a shinzoku … the foul brother of that slimy Shou Shimaron King's—?!”

“Wolfram, Wolfram! Before getting angry with a scary face, let Greta read the second poem? Please?”

♚ ♚

my twin in stature and physique but angelically handsome if you didn’t know he was mazoku you’d think he was God’s greatest masterpiece glittering gold hair long eyelashes emerald green eyes but that arrogance of his make him sound like a yapping pomeranian

♚ ♚

“… Since when Yuuri has a twin? A mazoku one?! Also, a yapping pom—pomera—”

“Pomeranian. Yuuri said it was a cute, small kind of dog when Greta asked yesterday.”

“A mazoku twin—dog?! W-wha-what does it mean, then?!”

“Wolfram, Wolfram. Yuuri doesn’t have any twins.”

“But the poem said—!”

“It’s a misunderstanding. See? There’s more that Greta wants to continue reading. So, would Wolfram just listen carefully, please?”

“A-alright. Please go on, Greta.”

♚ ♚

the selfish prince with the angelic features and clear emerald eyes that remind you of the bottom of a lake a selfish pu always goes right to the point throws himself into any challege bores into my mitt and my chest kinder and gentler than a lie

♚ ♚

“…”

“A selfish prince~!”

“…”

“Abbreviated: Selfish Pu~!”

“…”

“Wolfram~?”

“Hu-humph! W-why did he need to call me with that useless pet-name? Also, what is with him going on and on about, uh, 'the bottom of a lake’, though?”

“Because the beautiful colour it has always reminds Yuuri of Wolfram’s beautiful emerald green eyes?”

“…”

“Greta thinks it’s so romantic of Yuuri~”

“Ro-romantic—!”

“Un! Isn’t it~? Eh~? Arara! Wolfram’s face turns sooo red! Kyaaa~~! Is it what they called ’blushing’~?”

“—!!”

(Aaakh, Yuuri … ! Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri, you henachoko MaOu, you—! Why didn’t you just say these—these things to my face, instead writing these poems secretly! Aaakh, now I’m feeling embarassed and happy and excited in front of our daughter—! Yuuri, this is your fault—!!)

“There are other poems just as so beautiful and honest and heartful and touching like these ones! Please listen, Wolfram! Here’s one of Greta’s most favorites!”

♚ ♚

a rival-less super bishounen like a Vienna choir boy who had jumped straight out of a shoujo manga shiny golden hair emerald green eyes imagined all artist in the world would fight over the chance to paint his portrait if he had appeared in someone’s dream the dreamer might even be moved to tears thinking he had seen an angel

♚ ♚

“Kyaaa~~! Wolfram is so beautiful like an angel that, that, that everyone would cry if Wolfram ever came to their dreams! Aww~! Yuuri honestly thinks that! How sweet! How romantic! Yuuri always thinks lovely about Wolfram! Yuuri loooves Wolfram sooo much! Aww~!”

(… I think, our beloved daughter has spent too many times with dear Mother.)

“… Greta?”

“Yes, Wolfram?”

“Can I borrow this diary of Yuuri’s after Greta finishes reading?”

“Un! Un! Wolfram can read it! Even better, Wolfram can read it now! Greta is just rereading! After all, Greta wants to read the other diary with the bear-cub stamp! Greta wants to read it with Lady Cäli!”

“That’s, uh, alright …”

(That diary with the bear-cub stamp is just full of Yuuri’s shenanigan stories with Conrart and Gurrier. It’s kinda adventurous and funny for Greta to read with Mother. It is not that private. Probably.)

“Thank you, Greta. I will read Yuuri’s poem diary later. Now, shall we go and see Yuuri at the Royal Library? We can take him out of Günter’s lecture to visit the market for an hour. My gut is telling me that Yuuri needs a family time right now. What do you say, Greta?”

“Yaay! To the market! Family time! Greta would love to go with Wolfram and Yuuri! Oh! Oooh! After that, after that! Can we go picnic at Lady Cäli’s Royal Garden, please? Wolfram?”

(Aaah, Greta’s special PUPPY EYES OF DOOM, just as Yuuri once said! How could anyone dare to resist this cuteness?)

“As you wish, Princess Greta.”

“Tehehehe! What a Prince Charming! No wonder Yuuri loves to write secret poems about Wolfram, then~!”

“—!! Y-yes. No wonder …”

(But still … I’ve never wondered Yuuri could write some secret poems about me before now, though …)

♚ ♚

Later at night inside the Royal Chamber …

“Yuuri.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to just tell me.”

“Huh? What’s with this serious atmosphere all of a sudden … ? Eerm. Okay. What is it, Wolf?”

“… VIENNA CHOIR BOY. Who is he?”

“E-eh? VIENNA CHOIR—wait, how’d you know—where’d you hear about—Had Conrad—”

“And what do you think about my eyes, Yuuri?”

“E-eeh? Your—your eyes?! W-wha-why? Your eyes are—your eyes look—eerm, W-Wolf? Your mouth is closer—nngh, you’re gonna ki—

"Do they remind you of the bottom of a lake? Yuuri …”

“—!! Why? Why're you whispering something on my neck—! Nnnghh—! Wo-Wooolf! I thought, you’re gonna—! Are you gonna—again? A-already?”

“… And do you move to tears whenever I am in your dream, Yuuri?”

“—!!”

“Do you cry?”

“Nggghhh! Aaaah! Wo-Wolfraaaam! Your teeth—! A-and your fingers—! Don’t pinch my—! What—nnngh—are you going to s-start, Wolf—!!”

“Tell me, Yuuri.”

“Nnggh—! Wolf! It's—aaah—too sensitive—!”

“… Yuuri!”

“Hu-huuh? Wha—why’d you sto—I mean, w-what?”

“Am I like a yapping pomeranian to you?”

♚ ♚

※side note: all the poems above are actually taken from yuuchan’s choosen monologues of maruma (fan-translated) light novels~ (~_^) ♪ this fic takes place post series or a day before mahon sss re: greta × cäcilie + α (that one featuring the diary with bear-cub stamp)~ (⌒o⌒) ♪ also, since the first volume, yuuchan had been privately into a green eyed and blond haired beauty? is developing a crush at the first sight on any blond haired beauties a common thing for yuuchan? i mean iirc the things with lil’ yuuchan has on a blond haired drag queen, and the alice ghost girl … and even his fiancé on previous life was a blond haired american football macho—wait, yuuchan has a type~? (〃°ω°〃) ♡

#maruma #kyou kara maoh #kkm #wolfram von bielefeld #greta #shibuya yuuri #wolfyuu #yuuram #my art #ficlet: greta to otousan-zu #ficlet: henachoko to wagamama #otp: i finally caught you

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