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#i fought the reps last night
blinkiesreal · 2 months
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mostly political BLINKIE MIX!!!!
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Do Your Worst
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel’s lover is having a hard time, but no amount of acting out can push him away
Warnings: mentions of violence (torture)
Notes: Sorry for the silence, I’ve been having terrible writer’s block but I think I did okay with this one!
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Image Credit: Pinterest
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Today was rubbish. Probably one of her worst days yet. 
It had been exactly two months since Hybern captured her from Azriel’s post and took her to their war camp deep in the Spring Court’s woods. Exactly two months since she’d been tortured for information she’d die before giving up. Exactly two months since she’d made peace with her death. Rhys couldn’t track her immediately, Mor and Feyre’s searches came up empty each time, and even Azriel’s shadows couldn’t pick up a clue. Azriel had driven himself mad, downright insane, trying to find her. Each day he spent every waking hour looking for clues, scouring the forests for her scent, and each day he returned to bed with nothing to show for it. It took Amren and Nesta a month to finally locate her. In that month she laid cut and bruised, chained to a wooden post like an animal, struck, cut, and burnt for every question she refused to answer. They left her in the middle of that camp, exposed to the heat of the day, the cold of the night, the rain, the wind, and the thunder. They made her into a spectacle. 
She only thought of her family, her Azriel, the entire time. My Azriel, she’d think each time they brutalized her. My Azriel, my Azriel, my Azriel. Rhys collapsed when she allowed him into her mind after they brought her home. He would never forgive himself for sending her on that mission, nor would he ever show his brother what she’d shown him, for Azriel very well would have sent Prythian to immediate war. 
And while the cuts, bruises, burns, and broken bones would heal completely, the skin of her back would forever be changed, marred with angry, raised scars from a heavy leather whip. She could barely walk. 
The first time Azriel saw the lashes on her back, he was helping her undress the night she returned home. Each movement caused her to cry out in pain. She tried to bite her lip, clench her fist, grip Azriel’s arm, tried anything to keep from crying, but nothing helped– the pain was too much. It would’ve been a mercy from the Mother to fall apart, limb by limb, bone by bone, instead. 
Azriel had seen all the other scars when Madja was working on her; those alone made him sick and wild with a hideous rage, potent enough to crumble the mountains surrounding the city into nothing more than powder on the ground. The lashes on her back– the thought of some wretched male stripping her and lashing a whip over her soft, warm skin in the mud and rocks– filled him with a fury so intense, so horrid, he could’ve wrapped his bare arms around the sun and pulled it down to earth. Set everything on fire. 
That very night, with names in his ear courtesy of the shadows and Cassian and Rhys positioned at her door, Azriel made each of those names pay. He was back by sunrise, tucked into bed beside her, wing draped over her restless body, and she was none the wiser. 
“You’re killing it,” Madja’s appointed physical therapist, Jarrah, encouraged as he watched her do her exercises. He was tall and muscled with glittering, golden-brown skin, looking ever the Summer Court high fae that he was. 
“It’s killing me,” she ground the words out, mincing each syllable as they passed through her teeth. Pain gripped her legs, lower back, and upper arms like a vise as she fought to complete a rep, the movements squeezing every last bit of energy out of her and collecting on the mat below in puddles of sweat. “I can’t do it, Jarrah.” 
“You can and you will,” he squared his shoulders at her, smile fading as he willed her to find her strength again. In recovery, he’d taught her, there were good days and there bad days– healing was not a linear process. 
Some days she did well in physical therapy and pushed herself– the pain only meant she was getting stronger. Azriel would be absolutely beside himself with pride and their friends echoed as much. 
Other days, her body seemed to give out in protest, the pain too unbearable, and she’d wonder if she’d ever be the same again. Azriel would encourage her– she knew it wasn’t pity– but she couldn’t stand it all the same. She’d collapse onto the floor against her will during physical therapy, shoving Jarrah away with shame when he’d tried to help her up each time. Sometimes, she’d wake up in the dead of night, clammy, and nauseous from a nightmare that felt more and more real each time she had one. Azriel held her to his body whenever she’d jostle awake, heaving and shaking, stroking his warm hands up and down her arms. Other nights he held her hair back as she retched her dinner into the toilet, panting and crying silent tears. 
“To expect linearity is to set yourself up for failure,” Jarrah lectured during their very first session when all she wanted to do was get to the hard stuff, to prove that she was alright– that she was still whole. Jarrah did not mind her bad days, but something died within her every time she left training without making any notable progress– every time her body failed her when her mind seemed to be giving its all. 
From the moment they started their session this morning, Jarrah noted her body was fatigued and her mind was somewhere else. Oh dear.
“We can take a break–” 
“No!” She buckled down and held her position, determined to prove to herself that even on her worst days she could succeed. It was the most enthusiastic response Jarrah had gotten all session from her so he allowed it. He watched her body tremble from the strain, the sweat bead at her temples, the fatigue in her eyes as she fought the pain in her spine. 
Her body could not bear it anymore. She felt her traitorous legs give out beneath her and the ground came up faster than she could register, faster than Jarrah could react. A strangled cry crawled from her throat as she collapsed and her body trembled in a pain her mind could barely process. 
“Fuck,” a familiar voice rang out from the gym’s entrance and Azriel ran in. Just great. What was he even doing here? After the first training appointment in which Azriel could barely keep himself from choking out Jarrah and coddling her, he agreed to not interrupt her sessions thereafter. His disregard for their agreement made her feel so small. 
“Fuck,” Jarrah echoed. He was at her side in two steps, arms outstretched to help her up, but she scooted away as fast as her leadened arms would allow, turning her face away in shame. 
“Don’t touch me!” She croaked. 
Jarrah stopped himself by the time Azriel was at her side, crouching beside her and taking up what felt like all of the oxygen in her space. Breathe, she tried to remind herself but with Azriel hovering and Jarrah a foot away, both watching her crumpled pathetically on the mats, she couldn’t. 
“Are you alright?”
“Get her some water!”
“That’s enough for today, let’s get you some food.”
“... My love?”
Azriel’s soft voice pierced through her terrible thoughts. She felt his strong hands reach under her armpits to help her up but she pushed against his biceps, swatting him off in a desperate attempt to move away. But the pain made her so dizzy, it was difficult to create any real distance. 
“Don’t!” she cried out, for it was all she could do, and Azriel dropped his hands immediately. “I can get up on my own.”
Azriel didn’t move. Jarrah placed a comforting hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “We should give her some space.”
Azriel clenched his jaw but it didn’t stop the twitching of his upper lip. He stood abruptly, swiveling on his heels so his face was only mere inches from Jarrah’s, who’d since quickly retracted his hand to himself. To his credit, he kept his shoulders square, but even he wasn’t immune to the pure threat in the Shadowsinger’s glare. 
“My mate is in pain, she can’t even stand up, and you want to leave her like this?” He growled. 
Anger grappled her lungs, stealing whatever air she’d managed to collect. That was the problem. “I can stand up, Azriel. I’m not made of glass.” 
It took her a few minutes, but she did it. She first rotated her hips so she was on her hands and knees. With one foot underneath her, she pushed herself up, trembling, sighing, moaning as her body resisted the upward movement, but she finally stood. 
Azriel clenched his hands at his sides to anchor himself back, to resist from helping her. He knew she was capable of doing anything, that she didn’t really need him. Part of the reason he was so hesitant to pursue her all those years ago was because she was so independent that it intimidated him. Azriel wasn’t sure what he brought to the table, what he could do better that she already did for herself, how he would fit into the life she’d built for herself. 
But that didn’t change the fact that he would still do anything for her. It didn’t take away that primal need to protect her. He tried his best not to suffocate her but sometimes he couldn’t help his instincts when his love for her outweighed everything else.  
She allowed Azriel to link his arm with hers as she waved goodbye to Jarrah, silently apologizing for Azriel’s outburst. 
“Let’s get you something to eat, yeah?” His voice was soft as he led her out of the gym and to the townhouse’s sunlit sitting room. “You did so good today, love.”
“I’m not hungry.” Was all she replied. She couldn’t stomach anything after such a rubbish session. Fear that she would never be the same ever again set in, but nobody would understand. No one could even fathom what it would do to her if she couldn’t keep doing her job, going on these missions, protecting this city. If she was relegated to a desk for the rest of her life, she’d have lost everything she’s ever worked for.
“Sure you are. At least something small to keep the medicine down.” 
Madja had her on a cocktail of herbs and elixirs– something for the pain, something for the scars, probably something for how fucked her mind had become– she couldn’t keep track. Azriel kept track for her. She swallowed the pills and the bitters he gave her and allowed him to rub the salve into her scars before bed. Whatever. This was life now– being shoddily held together by some combination of antibiotics, gauze, and ointments. 
She shook her head in defiance and Azriel sighed, stopping her just before the doorway to the living room where the rest of their friends sat. She was so stubborn– if she didn’t want to do something, no one could get her to do it. It was a quality he admired but also a quality that drove him downright mad at times like this.
“What’s bothering you?” 
“You mean besides healing at a snail’s pace and sitting on my ass all day in this house while everyone else goes to work– fulfills some sort of purpose? I’m doing just great.” The smile did not reach her eyes. 
Azriel tilted his head as if to say No, really. I know there’s something else. He could read her like a damn book– it had always been that way. 
She hesitated for a moment before confessing, “I don’t know if I’ll be the same ever again.”
Azriel’s face softened at the anxiety that weighed on her shoulders so heavily they sagged. 
“Of course you will, love. It’s only a matter of time.”
“It’s been two months and I can’t even climb the stairs without needing a break. My body hurts by the time I go to bed. I can still feel my back– the scars–” the words caught in her throat and she quickly cut herself off before she choked on them, unable to talk too much about it without feeling her body and mind repulse. 
“Come here,” Azriel wrapped his strong arms around her frame and pulled her into his body so close their hearts beat in sync before each other as if in private conversation. “The physical training, the medicines, the therapist, you’ve got it all going on. No one here is working harder than you right now.”
“But what if it isn’t enough,” she mumbled into his chest, a single hot tear catching on the fabric of his sweater. She turned her face into his chest to wipe the tear away completely and Azriel’s heart broke for her. He wished he could reach into her chest and pull out the pain with his bare hands, fly with it to Ramiel and drop it at the peaks where it could never find its way back to her ever again. “You know better than anyone, you could do everything right and it still wouldn’t matter. I just need to get better. Be myself again.”
“I will love you no matter what happens. Even if you are never the same, I will still love you. This changes nothing.”
She pushed him away abruptly, hastily wiping away tears as if Azriel couldn’t see them. He didn’t get it. This wasn’t about him, about him loving her. This was her life. If she couldn’t get back to who she was, fill the roles she’d spent her whole life caring about, where would she stand among her family? Where would she stand in this life? In this world? 
“But it changes everything for me,” her eyebrows furrowed incredulously. “I want my body back, my mind back. Thanks for letting me know you’d still love me if I were to be this fucked up forever, but that’s literally the last thing on my mind right now, Azriel. I don’t want to be fucked up forever, I want to get better, and I need you to want that for me too.”
Azriel tried to find the right words, stuttering in his search to say the right thing. He didn’t mean it like that. He only ever wanted the best for her– would kill for her to have what’s best for her. “I-I didn’t mean–”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” She huffed, storming past him into the sitting room. Instant guilt flooded her as soon as she left him. Azriel helped however he could. Perhaps it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t put himself in her shoes in this very situation, but he’d gone through something traumatic too, and Azriel definitely knew a thing or two about helplessness. Still, she felt so alone. Azriel tried, but he wouldn’t understand what it was like to be a woman tortured in a camp full of males. What that took from her. She wouldn’t explain it. 
Azriel watched her storm off, feeling as if he was failing her all over again. Every night, he watched the dullness in her eyes grow as he handed her the medicines. When she laid down in their bed with practiced monotony so he could rub the salve into the scars stretched across her back, he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from crying. They were nasty things, raised and swollen with blood and she flinched every time he touched them, as if he were delivering the lashings all over again. She was hurting and he felt so helpless. He vowed to always protect her and take away her pains but he could do neither of those things and the thought of it ate him alive everyday. Only the Mother knew the true lengths he’d go to for her. That man would do anything. 
In the sitting room, Azriel brought her a sandwich that he put together in the kitchen. Nuala and Cerridwen insisted that would make it, but he politely refused. He wanted to be the one to do it. 
“Az, I told you I’m not hungry,” She murmured as he handed her the plate. 
“You need to eat something if you want to keep the medicines down,” He reasoned again. 
“I know what Madja said, I was there,” She snarked, crossing her arms. She was so tired of people telling her what to do. Jarrah telling her what exercises to do, Madja telling her what medicines to take, Rhys telling her that she shouldn’t try to work again so soon, Feyre telling her she should take more walks, Cassian telling her to drink less wine, Azriel forcing her to eat more food. 
“Okay, darling,” He placed the plate on the table when she wouldn’t take it from him. 
“Turkey and swiss, okay!” Cassian peeked at the sandwich, nudging her arm. “And he cut it in half too.”
“Just the way she likes it. In half though, not diagonal– too much crust in one bite if it's cut diagonal,” Azriel smiled from where he sat across the table from them. She could have cried at the sight of him, at the love in his eyes, in his voice. Words were never his strong suit but Azriel more than made up for it in acts of service. This was how he showed his love. This was him reaching his hand out, begging for her to take it, to let him in. To let him help. 
And she didn’t know why she had such a hard time letting him in. She didn’t want to seem incapable of anything, and letting herself fall apart the way Azriel would allow her to terrified her. She’d never fallen apart before. She didn’t know how she could do it without completely tearing herself and every past wound open again. It broke her heart to watch his smile falter when she didn’t reach for the plate. 
“I’m going to bed,” she stood up as quickly as her body would allow and left the room. It was too much. Azriel’s disappointment, everyone’s expectations, watching her, studying her, readying themselves to be there for her if she did explode. She never needed this much attention in the past– to receive so much of it all of a sudden made her feel like she was made of porcelain and everyone was expecting her to shatter at any moment. She could hardly breathe in that room and needed to get out before something within her cracked further. 
The stairs loomed before her, mocking with how many there were. Grabbing the bannister until her knuckles paled, she hoisted herself up one step at a time, maneuvering her body so that her entire weight wouldn’t be on one leg for too long. 
Nesta appeared behind her, climbing the steps she’d taken over the course of minutes in just mere seconds, with a stack of books in one arm and a handful of her gown in the other. Nesta stopped a couple steps ahead, turning around and looking down at her through long eyelashes. 
“Well this is pathetic,” Nesta snorted. 
“Fuck off,” she meant to sneer, but it came out in a breathless huff instead. Pathetic indeed.
 Nesta let her skirts fall from her right arm as she extended it toward her. 
“I don’t need your help.”
“You definitely do.”
“Don’t you have those smutty little novels to get back to?”
“Shut the fuck up and take my arm, or bust your ass on these stairs, I don’t care.” 
Begrudgingly, she took Nesta’s arm. Neither of them spoke, but Nesta patiently guided her up the stairs, supporting her where she needed it. Out of the entire Inner Circle, she got along the most with Nesta. Their conversations usually followed a very similar pattern as this one did, but only because they each saw a little piece of themselves in the other, even if they never mentioned it. 
“Heard you being a bitch downstairs,” Nesta finally spoke when they cleared the last stair and stood at the landing so she could catch her breath. 
She couldn’t find it within herself to take offense. “I love him more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone. I don’t know why I do this,” she confessed. She didn’t need to explain further. Nesta automatically understood. When they locked eyes, that silent comprehension flowed between them again and for the first time since arriving back home from the war camp, she felt relief. The kind of relief that made your heart beat out of your chest and go a little dizzy. The kind of relief that came from being completely understood without having to spend the energy trying to put the thoughts and feelings into comprehensible words. 
“I know. It’s not your fault.” The words fell softly from Nesta’s lips. It was the last thing she said before she led her to the library. They sat in arm chairs across the fireplace and read for hours in each others’ company. No one came looking for her. No one tried to force a plate of food down her throat. No one wanted her to do those stupid mobility stretches. Nobody was asking her if she was okay. It was everything she needed. So why did she still feel restless, like something was missing?
Azriel.
She left the library after she’d calmed down. In the quiet, amongst the books, when she thought that was all she needed, she felt misery instead. She needed Azriel. She wanted to lay in bed with him forever, feel his skin on hers forever, stay in his warmth forever, feel their heartbeats sing side by side forever. Azriel forever. Nothing else would compare. 
When she reached their room, it was empty. Disappointment flooded her chest, but she knew Azriel was giving her space. As she moved closer to the bed, she found a new plate of food waiting beside a note. A remade sandwich, cut down the middle as always. 
Your favorite. Was all the note said. 
Indeed it was. She polished off the sandwich in a matter of minutes, as ravenous as she was. Actually, she was hungry when Azriel first offered one to her in the sitting room, but she was too stubborn to take it then. 
The bath towel beside the note on the bed was warm to the touch. From the soft sound of trickling water in the bathing room, she knew he’d run her a bath. The air above the tub smelled of sandalwood– his scent. As she stripped off her clothes and lowered herself into the warm water, the scent encompassed her as if he was in the room with her right then, waiting to join her. 
Surely, an hour or two must have passed. Her eyes pried open, the water and soap around her body in the tub still warm and feathery like a winter duvet. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep, only that it was the best sleep she’d gotten these past two months. For the first time since coming home, she slept with no nightmares and no nausea to rouse her from rest. She didn’t even dream. She simply passed out.
When she finally left the bathroom, her body wrapped in the towel he’d warmed for her, she found Azriel sitting on the bed with a book nestled in his large hands. As she stepped through the doorway of the bathing room, he looked up, smiling softly. Pure love shone in his eyes like a beacon, flashing and blinking in the darkness that war camp left her in. 
At the sight of his soft smile, the gentleness of his features, the relaxed sag of his shoulders, she felt something break. 
Sensing a shift in her demeanor, he lowered the book, eyebrows knitting together. 
"What's wrong?"
Those two damned words. She bit the inside of her cheek, walking weakly to Azriel's side of the bed. He placed his book on the nightstand and sat up straighter, anticipating her next move. 
She climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, and laid her upper body against his torso, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Her arms wrapped around his body tightly, breathing him in like he was the oxygen she lived off of. Anything else, anything that was not Azriel, and she could just die right there. 
He brought his arms around her tightly, heart sinking when he felt her hot tears on his neck. She did not shake. She did not sob. He only felt the wetness on his skin and the erratic heaving of her chest against his as she fought to regulate her breathing.
He did not say anything else. He held her, unmoving except to rub her back or run his hand over the back of her head, smoothing her hair. His other hand held the back of one of her thighs to keep her in place as she grew increasingly limp in his arms. 
"I've been such a wretch." Her voice was heavy and filled with sorrow. "I've been such a wretch to you. I'm sorry Az."
"Oh my love," He held her as close as he could, willing her to feel the love he held for her in his chest. His love for her ran everywhere his blood did, from his toes to the top of his head, every day and every second, his astonishment of her coursed his body like an electrical current keeping him alive. Without her,  there was no pulse. 
"How do you put up with me?" He felt her wipe her nose on his shoulder and he couldn't help the smile on his lips.
"Because I love you, and I know your anger has nothing to do with me."
"But you should not have to put up with it."
"I will put up with anything when it comes to you. You don’t ever have to worry about that when it’s you and I,” He pulled her back so he could look into her eyes. “You went through something horrible. You’re going to need time to work through it all, but I will be here for every moment of it. I’m sorry if I’ve been suffocating you, darling. I only do it because I can’t help it. When I see you hurting I wish I could take all of it from you and put it in me.”
“I never want you to hurt,” she told him earnestly. The thought of him going through what she did filled her with rage so sudden and consuming she couldn’t begin to imagine what Azriel felt when they finally found her at the camp. 
“I could never when I have you looking out for me,” He smiled that cheeky, boyish smile that came out so rarely. 
“I’ve just been having so many bad days. I should be happy that I’m back home, that I’m safe now. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, and it comes out at the wrong times in the wrong ways. But I don’t know what I’d do without you, Az.” 
“Even on your worst days, you’re the best of us. So do your worst. I can handle it." 
The disbelief in her eyes melted away when he cradled her head, smiling earnestly– and gods, she wished she could commission Feyre to paint him like this– a man smitten. With all the tonics and creams Madja had forced on her, she had a sneaking suspicion that none of them would truly heal her. They helped the symptoms, but never the cause. She’d accepted that it would take a damn miracle to heal the cause. And here Azriel was, pleading and lovely, looking like her damn miracle. 
She let him undo the towel from around her body and lay her into the soft covers, warm from where he sat while she was in the bath. Turning over, Azriel smoothed the salve over her scars as he did every night. But for the first time in months, she finally replied to his attempts at starting conversation as he worked. For the first time in months, she laughed genuine laughs that felt only slightly foreign– much like old friends– in her throat. For the first time in months, as he tenderly slicked Madja’s balm over her scars, praying to the Mother for her health over each one he touched, she did not flinch. 
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shakirawastaken · 10 months
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dsmp if... they were spiderman
i love spiderman just like every other bitch out there
dream: - do not be surprised if he comes out one day and claims hes a demigod and superhero and a wizard - cause if its anybody its this guy fr - if he was spiderman he wouldnt have the main and basic color scheme - hed go green like everything - green is the main color like the evermore green and black/white as the accent colors - his string also wouldnt be normal spider string i feel like itd be neon ish like miguels from the movie - he would also avoid telling you that he was spiderman till the very last moment - he would wanna keep you safe the best he can - would nEVER swing by your house - but he keeps an eye out on you when he knows ur out and about walking - but when you eventually figure it out? boy oh boy - cornering you in the street and pushing you into an alleyway - spiderman poses in front of you, hanging from his web - gives you upside down kisses???? sign me tf up - hed also get himself just the right amount involved in the crime he fought - he knows how to balance his life out, and he knows how important it is to be able to balance his life out like that - hot as spiderman  sapnap: - a reckless spiderman - leans vigilante  - out of all of them he would be the one with the suit closest to the spiderman - but im not feeling the blue - marroon and black or some other brighter color - a rash spiderman - fights crime like no business, but kinda makes a mess along the way - its okay bc the people love him - loves loves LOVES arguing with cops - tells you almost immediately after becoming spiderman bc he has to tell someone - breaks every canon event - trash talks every criminal out there - but is nice to every citizen he sees - likes webshooting your wrist to the counter or something so you cant leave or go out or smth - forces you to spend time with him :) - likes to keep out of interacting with people as spiderman  - but will use it as argument bait in day to day life - makes a hammock out of webs and lays there between two buildings - overall 7/10 spiderman
george: - is barely spiderman but when he is hes darn good at it - he leaves a lot of the petty crime to the cops - only goes out for the big stuff - dark navy blue suit with black accents - stays in the shadows/on top of buildings - doesnt interact with anyone if he can help it - the more secretive he can keep the better - he told you a fair amount of time after he went out as everyones crime fighting superhero - but he doesnt like to talk about being spiderman  - and youre fine with that, as long as he stays safe - he swings to your window every night after hes done being spiderman - hed rather be with you than someone else after the hard night hes probably had - has a habit opening your window without knowing and jumpscaring you accidentally LMFAO
karl: - oh he LOVES BEING SPIDERMAN - hes the spiderman to be on every cereal box and phone cover and talk show - loves taking pictures especially with little children in their own spiderman costumes - after he captures and ties up every criminal he leaves a little goofy aah note for the cops to laugh at - unlike sapnap he has a great rep w the cops  - he told you after he “test” ran it - actually he just showed up with the mask on and you were like “SPIDERMAN OMG LET ME CAL MY BF” - and then spidermans phone was ringing and you were like - “what” - “im spiderman!” - “WHAT” - his suits like - i feel like it changes color in the sun - its one of those suits - and hes the only one out of all to have an assistant ai thing in his suit to lead him through crime - he might be a more light hearted spiderman but he still deals with the same dangerous crime
quackity: - this guy loves to swing - he will put his headphones on and jump off the nearest building - mona lisa by dominic fike - soars to the ground and then swings up at the last moment - swings to the beat of the music to relax - he has the normal suit i think - but he has his hair comin out of the suit like pavitr  - loves to take you swinging - even if you may find it terrifying - he likes the feeling of sharing with you his favorite activity - fights crime like no ones business - he told you like a few months after being spiderman - he just jumped down from the ceiling  - “? what” - “spiderman!” - “...what” - yeah  - idk all i can think of is that quackity likes to swing around the city just for the heck of it - “WOAH ITS SPIDERMAN” “YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” 
wilbur: - has a black suit like miles - tommy is his guy in the chair LMFAO - in his ear like “SWING LEFT I MEAN RIGHT I MEAN LEFT” - mutes tommy half the time - leaves you little messages in web on the walls of the house - “love you!” but its in spider web - actively holds a conversation with the people hes fighting - “so hows your day?” *PUNCH* “hows ur kid doing?” *OBLITERATES* - uses physics and shit to his advantage cause hes not that built - another one whos hot as spiderman - never EVER brings you out as spiderman - EVER - will bring tommy tho - cause tommy annoys him into doing - “BIG UPS WILBUR!!” “SHH TOMMY” - is spidermans biggest fan even though hes spiderman - “they will never suspect spidermans biggest fan as spiderman!” - smart ngl 
guys all i can think about is spiderman its a dilemma an issue a problem  sorry for the short headcanons i had to get my thoughts out of the way!
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nancy-reads · 7 months
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you belong with me
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pairing: fred weasley x reader
summary: fred wakes up after a wild night with his team to his phone buzzing nonstop after his latest tweet. Turns out he accidentally invited his old chemistry partner (and long-time crush) to the second game of the season. pining and fluff ensue.
warnings: a tiny little bit of spice at the end (it's really not that much i just want to warn you guys)
authors note: i promise the sequal to am i the one you think about will come out, i just got a bunch of inspiration to write this all of the sudden and wanted to share it with you guys!!
CROSSPOSTED TO AO3
As soon as Fred woke up, he regretted everything. His head was pounding, his throat was dry, and his muscles ached. Every part of him wanted to lie back down and never get up again. 
His memories of last night were fuzzy at best. He was hanging with some of the boys from his team, celebrating after their first game of the season. Many beers were passed around, and for some reason, Fred had a vague memory of the team shouting at him over and over to do it.
Strange. They probably wanted him to take a bunch of shots or something. Usually, he’d be down, but not during football season. He had games to win, and Superbowls to play at. 
Fred opened his eyes and blinked sleepily. As the world came into focus, he realized that his phone was buzzing, and had been for a while. He rolled over, chugged a glass of water, and grabbed his phone.
His jaw dropped as he saw the flood of notifications. 
Fred Weasley’s Secret Crush?
Fred Weasley Invites Mystery Girl to Sunday’s Game Over Twitter
Football Hearthrobb Fred Weasley Has a Girlfriend?!
Holy shit. 
There was only one person this could be about, and he might just die from embarrassment if he was right. You had probably completely forgotten about him, while he still liked all of your Instagram photos on his private account. 
Fred scrolled through his notifications to see what looked like a million from Twitter alone, and a text from nearly everyone he knew. 
Taking a deep breath, he tapped the Twitter app and clicked on his profile.
Fred Weasley @thebetterweasley
never would have gotten to the nfl without my college chem partner @ynln… tickets to the next game on me?
Fred’s eyes widened as he reread his tweet over and over again. He could feel his entire body heating up as he fought the urge to bury his head in his hands. 
He just blew it. Entirely. You would never be interested in him now. You’d just think he wanted the attention, or worse, just for a quick fling.
Fred couldn’t imagine ever only wanting a fling from you. You and your gorgeous hair, beautiful eyes, and the way you talk way just mesmerizing. He could never focus during Intro To Chemistry because you’d be sat right next to him, eyes sparkling and pen flying as you took notes. 
And he saw your grades. You were basically a genius, acing every test and perfecting every project. You were probably in grad school right now or in some sort of job for brilliant people who are saving the world. 
You probably had no idea who he was. 
*
After an embarrassingly long time spent moping, Fred got out of bed and reluctantly headed to the gym to work out. In between reps, he responded to the thousands of texts that he received, either congratulating him or calling him an idiot. 
He definitely knew which ones were right. 
His tweet had millions of likes by now, so there was no chance that you’d missed it. He’d been contacted by loads of news outlets, asking for a quote or an interview or anything about you, and he’d denied all of them. The passive-aggressive text from his manager, Alicia, was enough to make him want to delete every social media account he owned. 
Fred had just finished his last stretch routine and was headed toward the showers when he got a notification.
Y/N L/N @ynln
maybe i’ll swing by…see if we still have chemistry
Fred could feel the heat spread from his neck all the way to his hairline. He wanted to giggle and kick his feet like a lovesick teenager. Maybe he didn’t ruin everything after all?
You tweeted it a minute ago..would it be weird for him to like it immediately? 
Yes. Yes, it would. 
That didn’t make him want to do it any less. 
As Fred headed to the shower, a massive smile adorning his face, he immediately hit the call button because he had to tell someone about this. You responded to his tweet. He wanted to jump around and squeal like a kid with a crush. 
Which was pretty accurate, to be quite honest.
 “George,”
“Freddie, I just finished my workout, is this really that imp-”
“She responded to my tweet!!” Fred nearly shouted. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes shining with excitement. He didn’t recognize himself as he looked in the mirror. His smile was too big for his face, and his ears were bright red. 
“It did have more than a million likes, Fred. I think she kind of had to.”
“Don’t ruin this for me George. I’ve liked her for so long, what do I even do now?”
Fred could hear George’s exasperated smile from miles away. “First, you are going to take a deep breath. You are a cool NFL football player, not a horny teenager. “
“Right. Yes.”
He took a deep breath, but his heart was still racing and the butterflies in his stomach would not go away. Come on Fred, you are gonna be normal about this. You can do it.
“You got that Fred?” George asked. Fred murmured an affirmative. “Okay, now you are gonna get tickets to the VIP booth, four of them.”
“Four? Why-”
“Because one of them is for Mum, as you know she will get there somehow if you’ve invited a girl.”
“That’s fair, actually.”
“Also, the public loves her so I assume that your girl will want to meet her too.” Fred pointedly ignored how his heart raced at the words “your girl.” George continued, “You’re also not going to be the asshole who makes her go alone, so give her a couple tickets for her friends.”
“When did you get so smart with girls?”
George chuckled. “Oh this is all Angelina. I don’t know anything.”
“Yeah, that makes a lot more sense, Georgie.”
“Hey!”
Fred hung up as he orders four VIP tickets for the game. He immediately sends one to his mum, but he pauses before sending it to you. 
see you at the game! you better be wearing red and gold…
Fred added a winky face, then immediately deleted it. He didn’t want to seem too juvenile or worse, weird. His thumb hovered over the blue send button, rereading the DM over and over. At last, he admitted defeat and sent a screenshot to Geoge.
F: does this sound okay?
G: yes. stop worrying.
F: you act as if you were not the same way when you asked angelica to the yule ball
G: shut up
Fred snorted as he switched back to Twitter. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and pressed send.
*
For the rest of the week, Fred practiced harder than ever. All eyes were gonna be on him this week, and he needed a win. More importantly, you were gonna be at this game, and he knew who he wanted to dedicate his touchdown to.
He’d been thinking about it since that freshman year chemistry class when he was nothing but a rookie tight end, and the NFL was nothing but a dream. The crowd goes wild, but the only person he’s looking at is you.
Christ, when did he become such a romantic?
He felt a smile split across his face when his phone buzzed during a break.
Y: i looked through my closet and i don’t know if i have any red and gold…might have to steal something of yours
F: stay after the game and maybe we’ll see
The two of you didn’t text often, maybe a couple of times a day, but it was always a highlight. Locker room talk had devolved into just making fun of Fred’s puppy dog eyes and lovesick smile whenever he opened his phone. 
Someone from the press got a picture of him smiling at his phone, and the internet exploded even more. 
Fred Weasley Caught Blushing At His Phone During Practice
Fred Weasley’s Smile Has the Internet Swooning
Fred Weasley’s Mystery Girl: Who Is She?
Part of him wanted to feel embarrassed with all the attention, but he was too grateful that you had finally given him the time of day to really think about it. He was laser-focused on every play and worked extra hard at the gym. They would win the game this week, even if it was purely by his will.
*
Fred had never been this nervous for a game before. Every single playoff game, championship, or even the Superbowl hadn’t prepared him for this feeling. 
His girl was up there, and he had to impress you today. 
The crowd screamed louder than ever as he ran onto the field with his team. There were signs everywhere, asking if you were here and making jokes about Fred being a loverboy. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he looked around the stadium, taking it all in.
There was nothing he loved more than football, and having other people love him for it was even more special.
Still, Fred tried to catch your eye in the VIP booth, and his smile widened when he saw you talking to his mum. Embarrassing as it was, everyone loved her, so she was probably the quickest way to your heart. Eventually, though, his mum took pity on him and pointed him out to you.
And shit, your smile when Fred finally looked into your eyes. The two of you were far away, so it was hard to tell, but he already knew it was beautiful. He stared at you, probably for longer than was considered normal until the whistle blew and he was forced to follow his team.
*
This was probably the best game his team had ever played. Everyone was in sync, and the plays they’d worked on all summer were gaining them yards across the field. Everyone could feel the energy in the stadium as people cheered his name.
The only problem, Fred hadn’t yet scored a touchdown. Halftime had just ended, and the team was up thirty-one points. He could feel the coaches wanting to pull him out and let the best people rest while they had such a great lead, however, he silently begged them to let him stay in. 
Just one good play and I’ve got this.
And his chance finally came halfway through the third quarter. They were only a few yards away from the endzone, and Fred knew that this was his chance as Oliver called the play. 
The whistle blew, and Fred didn’t even see the other players as he sprinted into the endzone, dodging anyone who attempted to get in his way. He and Oliver were in perfect sync as he threw the ball straight into Fred’s hands, securing another six points for the team.
The crowd screamed as the touchdown was announced, and Fred couldn’t stop himself from doing a little victory dance. His eyes found your booth as he headed to the sideline, and he blushed from head to toe at your reaction. You were jumping around and screaming with joy (he hoped) and you looked adorable. 
In a moment of confidence, he caught your eye, placed his hand on his chest, and held out half a heart, mouthing “This one is for you.”
Part of him wondered if he was coming on too strong, but the other part was enamored with you as you clasped your hand over your beautiful smile and held half a heart back. 
The crowd let out an “aww” as you showed up on the screen beside him, and he couldn’t stop himself from beaming at the nearby camera. He could feel people tapping away at their phones to post on social media, but he didn’t care. You were cheering for him.
The game continued, and Fred was mostly put on the sidelines to give some of the rookies a chance to play, as it was looking pretty good for his team. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at your booth, so much so that the team was beginning to notice.
“Fred, loverboy, the game is this way,” Lee Jordan teased. 
“Staring at your mom, Weasley?” Andrew Sloper asked.
Even Oliver, who usually had a stick up his ass, joined in on the fun. “God, Fred, you’d think Taylor Swift was here or something.”
Fred was happy to laugh with them. He hadn’t remembered feeling this giddy in a long time, and he couldn’t push the smile from his face. Part of him was eager for the game to be over, so he could go see you. 
Still, his hands shook and butterflies erupted from his stomach when he thought about heading up to your booth. Would conversation flow? Would you even like him in person after all these years? Did you only come for free tickets or for internet clout?
That wasn’t it, he knew. You were too kind, too good to do that when it was obvious how head over heels he was for you. Still, part of him worried.
*
Fred was sure his team was sick of him by now. He’d been agonizing over his hair for the past thirty minutes as he prepared to leave the locker room and finally see you. He’d blown you a kiss as he left the field, and he was wondering if he’d come on too strong, and clearly if his hair was wrong it would ruin everything. 
Maybe he was panicking a little bit. He’d texted you a few minutes ago, giving you instructions on how to get to the family and friends area outside the locker room. He hoped his mum would guide you there, as the last thing he wanted was for you to get lost and attacked by rabid football fans. You didn’t deserve that. 
After a few more minutes, he realized that his hair was hopeless (it looked fine) and decided he would rather not leave you waiting. With a last look in the mirror and a deep breath, he headed out of the locker room.
The area was crowded; full of girlfriends, wives, children, and all sorts of family and friends of the team. There was a buzz in the room of people talking, laughing, and generally celebrating the win. The sounds got even louder as he entered, and Fred could see people acting like they weren’t staring at him.
Still, he wasn’t paying attention to anything but you as you locked eyes across the room. You gave him a shy smile, and he couldn’t stop himself from beaming as he headed straight for you. 
“Hey,” you said. Your eyes were piercing, and very distracting. He couldn’t seem to form a thought as he stared into them.
“Hey,” he said back, stupidly. He hesitated for a moment as the butterflies felt more like stampeding wildebeest in his stomach. “Did you enjoy the game?”
There was a teasing lilt to your voice as you responded. “I don’t know. It was alright, I suppose.”
“Alright?” Fred asked in mock annoyance. He placed a light hand on your back as he guided you out of the family area. “I guess next time I’ll give my free VIP tickets to someone else.”
You snorted. “As if you have someone else to give them to.”
“Hey! I have plenty of people to give tickets to.”
“Like who?” you asked. “Your mom?”
Fred smiled and placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “You dare insult Mother Weasley?” 
You smiled and stared at the ground as you shook your head. “Never. We had a great time hanging out tonight.”
He gave you a soft smile. “I’m glad. I have a feeling that you’re going to be her new favorite.”
As the two of you neared the press area, Fred straightened and pressed his hand slightly closer to your back. He didn’t want to be too forward, however, he knew how aggressive the press could be. “For this next part, just be careful of the reporters. Our security is really good, and honestly,” he chuckled a bit, “I could take most of them, but I don’t want anyone making you uncomfortable.”
You nodded and pressed a bit closer to him, making him blush even harder. 
It was a small hallway, and the press was kept behind some silver barriers that allowed the two of you some space to walk. Cameras flashed and videos recorded Fred and you walking past. You had the prettiest smile in the world, and Fred couldn’t stop looking at you as you gave an especially beautiful one to the cameras.
He’d have to find that photo later. 
Fred was desperate to grab your hand as the two of you walked toward his convertible, but his hands were sweaty and shook at the thought. You looked gorgeous in the moonlight, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping to your lips.  
As the two of you sped off, you looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I believe I was promised a jersey after the game.”
He smirked. “I’m pretty sure I said we’ll see.”
“So you don’t want to see me in your jersey next game?”
“Who said you were getting invited to my next game?”
“Seemed like someone enjoyed having me there tonight,” you said, looking away from him, a teasing smile on your face.
Fred smiled. “When did you get so confident? I remember it took forever for us to actually talk when we met.”
“I know it may surprise you Freddie, but some of us grew up a bit after college.”
“Really?” he gasped, dropping his jaw. “That's crazy.”
“And,” you added, “some of us have learned how to tell when someone is flirting with us.”
That's when Fred’s jaw dropped for real, and red spread all the way to his ears. He turned back to the road, focusing on driving as hard as he could. Letting you see the giddy beam on his face was not an option. Your hand moved toward the center console, right next to his, and every part of him itched to hold it.
He cleared his throat. “So, uh…how have you been?”
He listened to you describe your life and your job as if he had not been stalking you on Instagram since he met you. It seemed like you had thrived since college, and Fred felt his heart soar when he heard how happy you were. You deserved everything, and Fred silently hoped he would be there to see you get it.
As the two of you pulled into the parking lot, Fred caught you staring at him, biting your lip as he backed into the spot. He smiled to himself as he got out of the car and opened the door for you. 
“Dinner?”
*
Dinner was perfect. Fred couldn’t stop laughing and smiling in your presence, and it seemed like you were having a great time as well. Every so often the conversation would lull, and he would catch you staring at him as the two of you enjoyed your meal. 
He did his share of staring as well, but he hoped that he was less obvious about it. 
(He wasn’t.)
Fred finally found the courage to grab your hand as the two of you were leaving the restaurant, with your head thrown back in a laugh that rocked his world. You just looked so adorable that he had to hold you, even if it was just your hand. 
He knew it was the right choice when you immediately squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, which caused you to do it again, beginning an all-out hand-squeezing war that only ended when the two of you were laughing too hard to continue. 
Christ, your laugh was just so beautiful. You looked so free and so happy when you simply threw your head back and laughed, letting your joy overtake your entire body. Fred could feel himself staring, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be a part of your sunshine. 
Too soon, you stopped laughing and just stared back at him. He held your gaze for a moment, letting his eyes flick to your lips every so often. He stepped closer to you. Close enough to touch you. Close enough to lean in…
Close enough to kiss you. 
You’re eyes slid shut as Fred leaned in and placed a hand under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his. Slowly, so terribly slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.
Your lips were soft, and they seemed to meld with his perfectly. Fred could feel his pulse racing as you tugged on the lapels of his jacket to get closer. Christ, he just wanted to be closer to you, closer, and closer.
You opened your mouth slightly, and Fred took that opportunity to part your lips and deepen the kiss. He felt you inhale sharply and panicked for a moment until he heard your small moan at the movements of his tongue. All Fred knew was that he wanted to hear that sound again, and again, and again until you couldn’t make it anymore, until you were tired and sick with pleasure-
You gasped as you pulled away from him. Your lips were raw and red, matching the blush that colored your cheeks. It was silent for a moment as the two of you gazed at each other. 
Fred smirked. “So…do you think we still have chemistry?”
205 notes · View notes
lynnlovesspidahman · 9 months
Text
this is me trying.
peter parker x reader
part 2. || part 1.
masterlist.
warnings : angst, mentions of violence, swearing, lots of self-doubt (peter im sorry)
word count : 2.7k
summary : There’s always two sides to a story. An apology is put into place.
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Peter felt like he was living three different lives at once.
Each taking so, so much energy every single day.
His job, an assistant for Dr. Octavius at Octavius Industries. He felt guilty for arriving late every day, and still somehow having a job.
Peter was smarter than Doc, they both knew that. So that meant he would be called to office very, very often.
Usually because of some mistake Doc had made while working on the new prototypes of prosthetic limbs.
But the pressure it brought could get to be too much sometimes. One small mistake could cost millions of lives — or dollars — if not noticed early enough.
But he knew it would help the world someday, in so many ways. The exhaustion was totally worth it.
Spider-Man. Peter had loved and genuinely enjoyed playing his alter-ego.
Constantly, day and night, he was out. Out saving people everywhere. Sure, his work wasn’t appreciated by everyone but it was 100% worth it — to him.
But Spider-Man came with considerable costs. His everlasting lack of sleep. Peter can’t remember the last time he really got his 8 hours. The bags under his eyes made that apparent enough.
The physicality of the job, how many times had he stopped a car with his bare hands? He lost count years ago.
The bruises, cuts, broken limbs, brought immense pain, even to Spider-Man. Sure, he can heal faster — a nights rest, a heating pad, and your some soup is more than enough — But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
And the emotional weight it brought.
The crimes haven’t slowed, if anything they’ve gotten much more prominent all around the city.
The overwhelming amount of times he has to swing across New York to fight off large groups of thugs has become too much.
And honestly, he’s so sick of it.
And so, Peter stopped pulling his punches as much.
The guilt didn’t come until later.
He climbed through your apartment’s window after a long, long night of patrol.
You were sitting there — unaware of his presence— watching TV, all cuddled up on the corner of the couch with your mini Spidey plush.
“Hey, beautiful.” He called out to you.
“Holy shit-” You jumped and turned around to look at him. “You can’t just pop out of nowhere like that, you scared the hell out of me.”
You got up and walked towards him, “Was patrol okay?”
“Uh, yeah it was alright, kicked my ass tonight though. I’m worn out,” He stretched his arms above his head.
“Hm. Why?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Uhm, I mean I fought bad guys all night?” He scoffed, a stupid question, he thought.
“Or was it because you practically killed someone tonight?” You bluntly said.
You had taken a step away from him, like he was a danger to you too.
“They were a criminal!” He shrugged.
“Why does that matter? You can’t just completely take someone’s life away. That’s not who you are. Before you say you didn’t, you came real close to.” You stood your position.
It felt like you shot him straight in the heart.
He should’ve listened to you. But instead, he took a shot right back at you, a shot to kill.
“Again, they’re criminals. I’m sorry I had to calm things down somehow. I’m sorry I needed to do something to catch a break for once in my damn life. And you’re not exactly helping that.” He looked away from you. He felt ashamed.
You were right, he knew that, even then. But his pride couldn’t let him admit it.
“What is wrong with you? You love Spider-Man. And you always talk about how killing sickens you. You’ve changed, Peter.” You spat back at him.
He should’ve just ended it there, stopped the excessive violence, stopped the fight. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been in your kitchen on that faithful Tuesday.
It had been two days since that argument.
His almost perfect rep was officially ruined (Jameson had a field trip that day, too). The stress was at an all-time high.
He almost couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to anymore.
He was still so angry at you for being right. Because you always were.
You were the one who kept him balanced, who took care of him no matter the time of day or night.
He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the fight, either.
But he would return to it after a tough night the day after. And the next.
And you forgave him, so fast (He took you to see the Barbie movie, paid for every snack and drink you could’ve wanted. It was indisputable on your end). The guilt from what Peter’s put you through has just stacked on and on.
Now he really couldn’t handle it anymore. 
And so, there he was. Sat atop a random rooftop rethinking everything.
He debated his life. His three lives, more like. Which parts were worth it, and which weren’t. (It was really fucked up, who measures parts of their life in worth and just decides which to throw away?)
He couldn’t lose his job, how would he make money?
He couldn’t stop being Spider-Man, he knew that.
And there was you. The biggest and undoubtedly the most important part.
But you were also easy to throw away, he thought.
So much stress and time would be lifted off of his shoulders.
(Little did he know, it would be the complete opposite. His injuries didn’t heal all the way like they did when you took care of him. Every time he was hurt, it would linger for days at a time. He missed how much you’d worried for him. He really took you for granted.)
And so, he decided in the next couple of weeks, he would break it off.
And he did. On the Tuesday the following week.
He looks back on it — to this day — and realized everything he had said to you that evening, wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at himself.
Of course he enjoyed loving you. He didn’t enjoy being himself was what.
He needed to be his best for you because he couldn’t be with anything else. He failed at being the friendly and reliable Spider-man. Him and Doc didn’t get the grant they’d been needing for so long.
And when he did try to improve when you called him out that night, it just wasn’t enough.
He didn’t deserve you.
He took everything out on you, he didn’t mean a word he said. But you didn’t know that.
Peter never had an outlet to take anything out. He couldn’t leave you with every burden of his life, Doc and him weren’t that close, and May couldn’t know he was Spider-Man.
He snapped that Tuesday.
And there’s nothing more that he regrets in his entire life.
But he couldn’t burden you anymore. He wouldn’t.
He did nothing but keep you up late at night, hurt your feelings, and make you do everything for him.
Peter loved you. And he couldn’t let himself torture you like this.
So he forced himself to let you go. You would move on, anyways. He couldn’t.
He listened to every single one of the voicemails you sent.
Every. Single. One. He’s never heard you sound so down (Because of him, nonetheless).
It took so much out of him to not respond. More than what he had to give.
And after five weeks, he finally caved.
He texted you.
9:52 PM
Hey, beautiful.
You wouldn’t forgive him quick this time, he knew that. This time wasn’t just some fight. He tore your heart apart.
But he would work for your forgiveness, he swore to himself, God as his witness.
You read the message immediately. He knew you had gotten off of work, so it wasn’t completely abnormal.
But you didn’t respond. He checked his phone all night and the next morning (He was desperate for something, even if it was an angry text. He hated nothing more than you ignoring him).
So he texted you again. He just went straight for it this time, no holding back anymore.
1:16 PM
Can we meet up?? I think we can agree there’s still some loose ends we need to revisit, together.
Read 1:18 PM
He was patient this time. He tried stepping in your shoes, and it broke his heart. He couldn’t imagine you snapping on him like he had.
He couldn’t live if you were angry at him like he was at you. And if you weren’t going to respond again he was debating on just showing up to your apartment. Can’t ignore him that way.
2:12 PM
Y/N 💞 : “Loose ends” is a funny term. You mean when you randomly showed up to my apartment and broke up with me for the stupidest reason?
He cringed. This was a dumb decision.
2:12 PM
I know, trust me. I just want to talk. And explain myself.
Explain my biggest mistake. I’ve never regretted anything more than leaving you and taking the anger at myself onto you.
He debated on sending the message, but he didn’t.
You would just see it as him trying kiss your ass into forgiving him. It worked before.
2:14 PM
Y/N 💞 : Peter, why? Why are you only just know texting me? Why are you trying to meet up when you tore my heart into pieces? Why are you seeking forgiveness randomly?
Why are you asking such hard questions, he wanted to ask.
2:14 PM
Idk, I miss you?
I miss you and still love you. I regret that night so much.
Can you just hear me out? Please?
Nothing sounded right. But he just went for it, again. At this point, he was pacing across his rooftop, anxious for your response (If you even gave him one).
2:15 PM
Y/N 💞 : Peter, I swear. If you make me regret this, I’ll come for you. Worse than any enemy you’ve ever faced and ever will.
He laughed at that one. You wouldn’t —right?—
2:15 PM
I won’t, Y/N. I promise. Tomorrow, Micks at 3?
Read 2:16 PM
You left him on read, but he counted that as a success — you didn’t refuse his offer so.. —
He would come back from this. He has to.
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Peter was late. Fuck him.
Why did you even give him your time of day anymore? This man could tear you apart and you still gave into his words.
3:13 PM
Peter 🕸️ : Babt, I’mso sotry. I got caugjt up with worl, I’m bloxks away I sqaer.
You could barely understand him, but you were used to his usually proper grammar slipping while he was swinging.
How dare he? How dare he beg you to come out here and he gets to show up late??
He practically busted the restaurant’s door open. He rushed to your table.
“Baby I-”
“No,” You interrupted. “You don’t get to call me that. Fuck you, asshole. You ask me to meet you and you show up late? Are you kidding me?” You crossed your arms and stood up from the booth you were sitting at.
“Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I got caught up with Doc at work. Huuge internal wiring problem. I don’t even understand how he could’ve messed it up so badly,” He talked with his hands, he was so cute when he did that.
You took a step towards him, and slapped the shit out of his stupidly attractive face.
“You don’t get to break me and show up late when you wanted me here.” The tears were back. You were livid. You shoved your finger into his face as you scolded him.
“I know, I know. I keep fucking up and I’m sorry. Lets just sit down and let me explain everything. I promise you, it’s worth it.” He put his hands on both of your shoulders to keep you from leaving and tried to calm you down.
“Hands off,” You pulled his hands away from your shoulder and slumped back into the booth.
You wanted to go home.
“Okay, okay.” He sat down and stared at you.
“Well?” You waited, “Let’s hear this explanation,” You rolled your eyes.
“Well, uh-” He paused for a moment, “I don’t know how to start.”
You waited for him to continue, arms still crossed. You really didn’t want to hear him out.
“Do you remember when I almost beat the life outta that guy? Like a month ago or something?” He asked.
“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes again, not exactly a good moment to bring up.
“I feel like that’s where it started,”
“Mhm..” You nodded for him to keep going.
“I started slipping. I stopped pulling my punches and I was so stressed out every moment of my life. A-and one day I just got so sick of it,” He started choking up, you almost felt bad for him.
“So I sat down and tried to organize my life. I wanted to rid myself of stress and try to free up time for myself in order to y’know, rejuvenate.”
You sat there, you were expecting plain excuses. But it seemed he had something real going here.
“I couldn’t rid myself of my job — how else would I be able to live? — and obviously Spider-Man isn’t a choice. And there came you. The best and biggest part of my life.”
You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“I was stupid, I thought that by taking a break, I’d feel more free. And feel more.. well less stressed out. If I had something to myself then I would be better and feel okay? I don’t know.”
You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Don’t look at me like that, please. I was so overwhelmed with everything. I’ve been so behind on rent, and crime just never stops around here. Its like it raises more and more every week.”
“I thought-” He took a deep breath, “I thought that if I had one less chore — trust me you are not a chore to me — life would get easier.”
You’re guessing he tried to rephrase his words he said before, he’s almost repeating himself.
“But it didn’t. At all. I was in pain all the time — emotionally and physically — it didn’t help at all. I said I didn’t enjoy loving you. I lied. I didn’t enjoy loving myself- or being me.”
Your heart clenched for him. He hurt you so bad, but hearing how he truly felt made you slightly reconsider things.
“I didn’t enjoy the stress of my life, and I don’t have any outlet for my anger. And you forgave me so easily the last time we fought. And I guess I took advantage of that. I took all of the hate I had for myself onto you. I think that will forever be my biggest mistake.”
Your eyebrows scrunched.
“I love you. So much, Y/N. More than words can describe. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life and I can’t ever be away from you, again.”
“I broke it off thinking it would cause me less stress, but I understand now that it was you who took the pressure away. Being away from you, Y/N,” He laughed (At his own pain, seemingly). “I’ve never felt shittier in my life.”
Your tears flowed. Your expectations were well exceeded. He’s fucked up so much, but he makes up for it every time. And this time, it wasn’t done by kissing your ass and spoiling you, you recognized that.
“I can’t explain how sorry I am. I regret what I did to you that night so much. More than anything in the world. I just hope you can understand that.”
“I hope you can understand me.” He kept eye contact, his eyes were watery. “I know how complicated I can get,” He let out a breathy laugh.
“Pete.” You just about whispered his name.
“Yeah..?” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve before answering you.
“I forgive you.” You smiled, still crying from his well thought out (you had to give him credit) apology.
“Wait- Really?”
“Yeah. I do.”
He stood up and hugged you from across the table.
“But..”
“But..?” He repeated you, curiously. He let go of the hug to look you in the eyes.
“You’re gonna have to pay for the meal if you really want me back.”
He laughed.
“I love you.”
He grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. He’s never kissed you so hard.
Stunned, but pleasantly surprised, you sat there for a moment. Unsure of whether you should kiss him or not.
But you grabbed his collar and melted into the kiss.
No matter how hard he had broken you, his words brought you back to him.
And you wouldn’t regret it, you knew that.
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part 2 is finished 🥹
just wanna explain a few things just in case:
peter is a lil ooc w the excessive violence and it’s not him to be like that but i feel like every body gets to that point where everything can be just too much. even spider-man.
i also feel like he needs a healthy outlet for his feelings, being spiderman, he’s constantly busy. not exactly easy to make friends. but also being spiderman, he doesn’t wanna leave y/n with all of his problems, he’s supposed to be the hero. so he bottles it all up. to the point where he just burst one day and took it out on her. (not good!!)
also i felt like him being a man, he’s going to feel insecure if y/n’s the one taking care of him all the time. he’s the man, it’s supposed to be the other way around, but it’s not. and that’s okay!! often times, old traditions still lies deep within all of us. men’s mental health matters too!! men can still feel insecure!! EVERYONE DOES. but that doesn’t mean we (as people) can take out our insecurities or anger at ourselves onto other people. most times, they don’t deserve the hate we bring onto ourselves.
that being said, not everyone can be perfect. (peter is a great example) we’re all going through something in life and are constantly being tested. but, the biggest thing is to always persevere no matter what. you’re never going to have more on your plate than you can handle. if you’re struggling, always remember to reach out to someone. a loved one, a professional, or even me. my dms are always open. i love you all. 🩷
anyways,
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!!
i hope you all enjoyed this story as much as i liked writing it 💗💗
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captorsicallfriends · 2 months
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i hear there was a rep merch restock last night during the show wow that's crazy
i'm so sorry you missed out bestie, shan even bought me the peach endgame hoodie and we all fought it out for the snake ring
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mariamastermind · 5 months
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To anyone, ANYONE, turning the white background black text into an Easter egg, YOU. ARE. SICK. Some girl DIED last night (I believe her name was Ana). Get your head out of the clouds. This isn’t an Easter egg. This is Taylor actually being upset. She died because of the heat because the stadium wasn’t letting the people bring water, they had to buy it. Taylor asked her team to hand out some water during some of the songs, and even handed some out herself during All Too Well. People were passing out because of heat. These people will be outside the entire day. From what I can tell, the high is 102 degrees today, and by the time the show starts it should be around 88 degrees.
That whole speech right there is to educate those who are dumb enough to think this is a clue on the situation. Let me make this clear: A FAN DIED! And Taylor cares about her fans. Anyone in their right mind wouldn’t make this an Easter egg. TRUE fans wouldn’t do that, and I’m not even sorry I said it. TRUE fans don’t turn EVERYTHING into an Easter egg, especially not a person dying. If you’re doing this, I hate to break it to you, but you are NOT a fan and NEVER EVER will be. You are the ones that are just wanting more and more. Not to make this about an album, but you’re the same people who rushed Speak Now TV. You’re the ones who wanted 1989. You’re the ones who couldn’t give Midnights some time. And now, since all you want is Rep, you’re turning a beautiful girl dying into some clue, and that’s disrespectful on so many levels. You will never be Swifties in my mind, you never will, because as far as I’m concerned, this is not Swiftie behavior.
And to anyone who might blame Taylor for last night, she truly did try and went against the stadium’s rules. I don’t care what the media or haters say about her, she truly is the kindest person on this planet.
Rest in peace Ana, though basically none of us met you, you are a gorgeous soul and an incredible fan. Us and Taylor love you. Long live the wall you crashed through, all the mountains you moved, and all the dragons you fought. You will be remembered 🕊️🤍
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lgbettycommunity · 28 days
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Last week, I went to a Swiftie night with my besties.
I dressed up as Lover Taylor and dressed pink from head to toe - pink hair extensions, Lover heart on my face and everything. My two other friends were rep era Taylor.
Highlight of the day was the over dramatic lesbian couple. They fought and one of them cried like crazy. 30 minutes later, they were kissing passionately while gay twinks were dancing beside them 😄
It was a pretty gay night, and I sang my throat out. It was AMAZING🌸❤️🌈
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thefirstknife · 2 years
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Is there proof that Micah-10 is the same Micah and thus trans? I've just seen, a few times in other fandoms, where the "totally canonical trans character" is actually not at all it was just some headcanon that ascended to fanon and is completely made up and not actually canon. I know we have Oryx (and other queer characters of different types!!) but I've been burned by fandoms making things up so many times I don't want to get my hopes up...
Yes! Beyond Light proved it directly with Your Friend Micah Abram lore book and Legacy's Oath Greaves lore. In order, from the lore book of child Micah:
Where are you from, by the way? I'm from Mars. But right now, me and my Dad are on our way to join my Papa at a brand-new colony on Europa!
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Last night, I dreamed I was an Exo. I was standing in the center of a frozen lake in the middle of the night, with no snowsuit, and I didn't feel cold at all. The sky above was completely black, except for one bright moon in the distance. Just as I was looking up, wondering what to do next… Dad woke me up.
At first I was mad, but he reminded me that dreams are messages from deep inside our minds. Until we figure out the message, the dream repeats. So, hopefully, I'll get to finish it tonight.
And now Guardian Micah-10, having strange memories and dreams, from the greaves lore:
She's dreamt of it thousands of times, fought thousands of battles on the golden field beneath the black tower. And every fiftieth instance, in the midst of the chaos, an older man puts a paternal hand on her shoulder and says, "You just need to get acclimated. It's colder here than on Mars."
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Every hundredth time, she makes it into the tower and finds a different man sitting in an armchair, writing on a notepad. "Dreams are messages from deep inside your mind," he reminds her, "Until you figure out the message, the dream will repeat."
She clearly has memories of her dads, including the memory of being told she'll have to acclimate to living on Europa after living on Mars and the exact quote her father told her about dreams that she wrote down in her letters as a child.
Some extra posts about Micah and LGBT+ rep in general.
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acepalindrome · 2 years
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I am so fucking tired of people pitting queer media/people who create queer media against each other, especially comparing stuff made before some of you were born with shit that came out like, last month. I’m talking about kids trying to do callout posts about like, Rocky Horror and Brokeback Mountain without the tiniest hint of awareness that those were massively important for queer people at that time. I’m happy we have so much queer rep in media these days! I’m truly so happy, it’s more than I could have ever imagined as a middle school kid too closeted to even realize I was closeted*, and it’s so wonderful to see things progress more and more all the time!
BUT. That doesn’t change the fact that the very first bits of queer rep I encountered as a child were earth shaking, life changing. The world was different back then. We used different words, we have different ways of talking about things, and we couldn’t get away with nearly as much in media as we can now. Do you guys remember when Korrasami became canon? All they did was hold hands, but people sobbed about that, because it was huge at the time. And the stuff that’s big and groundbreaking right now will probably not seem so impressive in five years, ten, twenty. But it still matters for what it’s doing right now, and what it’s paving the way for.
Just….try to have some fucking respect for your queer elders. They fought hard to get as much as they did, and you can at least have the decency to not shit all over that.
*Why do I get Weird Feelings about seeing two women kiss in that performance of Twelfth Night we saw on a field trip? What a mystery. Guess we’ll never know.
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lovinkiri · 1 year
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Undercover Wild Cat, Chapter Nineteen
Description: The group's plan goes into motion. There are a couple of disagreements, and not only are feeling revealed, but so are intentions.
Warning: None.
Art Credit: @.jabberwockyface
OC Credit: @jix-the-dragon
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Izuku and Yaoyorozu were understandably serious as they made their way over to the other three, but it calmed no one’s nerves. Even when they stood before them, the air was heavy, and no one spoke for a moment.
Eijirou, Sasha, and Todoroki exchanged a few glances with each other. The question was hanging in the air, and they were growing anxious. Were Izuku and Yaoyorozu on board with their plan? Though both of them wanted Bakugou back badly, there was no way of telling if they’d agree to risk it all to save him. The worst-case scenario was the villains find them and they lose their lives. The best-case scenario was they save Bakugou and face punishment from the school and the commission. Either way, they’d be glad to take the risk if it was to save Bakugou was saved.
“So, how about it?” Eijirou asked, leaning forward. If he were sitting down, Sasha was sure he would be sitting on the edge of his seat. “Will you do it?”
“Just know that even if you don’t, we’re not holding it against you. We’ll just find another way. Though your help would make things go a lot easier.” Sasha said. She couldn’t blame Eijirou. She was just as nervous as him. She just wanted her friend to know that she could also understand their fears and worries.
Yaoyorozu paused before answering, looking at the ground between her and her friends. It was obvious that this decision had been tough on her, and Sasha felt a bit guilty, but she knew it was worth asking. After a moment, she began speaking, “I think that-”
Sasha heard footsteps and turned her head to Iida before he could say a word. “Iida...” She said, frowning. “... I’m sorry about how things went down in there, but…” She was going to say that their plans hadn’t changed, but he’d already known that.
Everyone seemed surprised to see Iida, obviously not having expected him to come out and meet them. Sasha had figured he would, having seen him listening in when Eijirou told Izuku where to meet them tonight.
“Why are you here...?” Izuku asked though he assumed it was to convince them not to go through with their plan. Sasha and the others had come to the same conclusion, preparing themselves for another quarrel. Sasha would only let this quarrel last for so long though, they didn’t have all night to fight.
“Hold it right there…” Iida said, clenching his fists. “You. Why did it have to be you two of all people?” He asked, and Sasha knew he was speaking to Todoroki and Izuku. They’d gotten closer and had fought against Stain with him. The commission had been the ones to inform Sasha of that. “The ones who stopped me when I acted recklessly. Who received amnesty with me after Hosu. Why are you trying to make the same stupid mistakes I made? Didn’t you learn?”
“What are you talking about?” Eijirou asked, walking up to Iida with a confused expression. Todoroki placed a hand on the redhead’s shoulder and shook his head.
“We’re still just students,” Iida started again, unable to look the group in the eyes. “And UA’s in a bad position as it is. Anything we do will reflect on our school! Don’t you get that?” He exclaimed, his voice cracking a bit.
This time, it was Izuku who walked up to Iida, and no one stopped him. “Iida, we have to do this. I know you don’t like breaking the rules, but-”
Before he could finish, Iida punched Izuku, almost knocking him down. As the others watched in shock, Sasha ran to Izuku’s side, making sure he wouldn’t fall over. “Iida! What are you doing?!” She looked at him.
“I’m frustrated too! And concerned, obviously! I’m the class rep, damn it! I’m worried about my classmates! Not just Bakugou!” He seemed to be looking straight at Izuku. “When I saw your injuries, all I could think about was my brother in the hospital! What if your bodies end up irreparable, just like his because I didn’t step in?! Didn’t you stop to think about the position I’m in?!”
Sasha looked back at Yaoyorozu, Eijirou, and Todoroki. Iida’s pain was obviously weighing on them, and it hurt Sasha too. She didn’t want to place all of this pressure on Iida either.
Iida grabbed Izuku’s shoulders and shook him a bit. Izuku stood there and let him, listening to everything Iida had to say and letting him finish. “Or do you just not care about how I feel?”
Izuku waited as if trying to see if he had more to add, then spoke quietly. “Of course, I care...”
“Iida...” Shoto said, gaining his attention. “You’ve got it wrong. We don’t expect to fight them head-on and win. We want to get him back without fighting, and we will.”
“Yeah, we’ll be stealthy,” Eijirou added, trying to reassure Iida. “I’m talking covert ops here. We won’t be caught, and we won’t end up fighting. We can rescue him without breaking the rules, I know it.”
“I trust in Todoroki’s judgment, but...” Yaoyorozu said, holding a closed hand to her chest with a worried expression. “Still. Things could always go wrong. So I’ll join you as backup. I’ll stand behind my classmates.”
Everyone looked at her in shock, Eijirou not being able to stop the grin on his face. “You’re the best!” Eijirou said, Sasha smiling softly at Yaoyorozu’s devotion to her friends. It was obvious that Iida wasn’t pleased by this, looking at her as if he’d just been ignored. “Are you being serious right now?”
Then, everyone was looking at Izuku, as he’d begun speaking. “I know that I’m injured. But if I can still move at all, I can’t just sit still. I have to reach out and do something. Because all I can think about is saving him.” He looked up to meet Iida’s eyes, his voice calm and quiet. 
Sasha nodded in agreement. “Bakugou is our friend. We won’t abandon him. I’m sorry that we put you in this position, Iida...” Iida looked at her, showing that he was listening to her. “But this just isn’t something we can give up on.”
There was a pause as if everyone was trying to collect their thoughts and let everything that had been said sink in. A lot had been thrown out. A lot of feelings, a lot of concerns, and a lot of fears. Sasha wished she could have done something to calm her classmate’s worries, but she couldn’t. The best thing she could do was ensure their safety.
She couldn’t deny that what they were doing was dangerous and risky. She felt a lot of pressure to keep them safe, not just because they were her classmates, not just because she was an agent, but because they were her friends. Her only friends. She’d do her best to make sure nothing happened to them, and to save Bakugou, but even she was scared that her will to save everyone wouldn’t be enough. Still, it wouldn’t stop her from trying.
“I can see that we aren’t going to reach an agreement,” Iida said, now considerably calmer than he was just before. “So, I’m going to come with you.” He said to the group, sounding just as determined as they had in their decision.
Just like with Yaoyorozu’s decision, everyone seemed surprised, maybe even more so. Iida, who’d just been yelling and trying to convince them to change their minds with every fiber in his being, was now joining. Though Sasha knew he still wasn’t completely okay with their plan. Still, she was glad to have him by their side. Being divided wouldn’t do anything good for them anyways.
“We should get going then,” Sasha said, nodding to Iida to acknowledge how thankful she was for his huge compromise. “If everyone is on board, we shouldn’t waste any time.”
The others seemed to be in agreement, and they began leaving the hospital. Sasha was wondering how Izuku and Yaoyorozu had been able to slip away so easily. They were either really stealthy or they were somehow able to convince the staff to let them out themselves. Either way, she was just happy they’d made it, though she knew Izuku would end up here no matter what.
Eijirou wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, and she looked at him curiously. He smiled down at her and rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. “I’m really glad that you’re okay. And thanks, for doing this with me. I wish Kaminari was here, but I don’t blame him... You think he’ll be mad at us?”
She laid her head against his shoulder and sighed, taking a couple of seconds to think before answering. “Maybe. I think he’ll be super worried. But it’ll be all worth it when we get Bakugou back, right? He’ll understand... I think.”  She answered, an ear cocking down as she thought about it. She hoped Denki would understand. She knew he wouldn’t hate them, but they’d definitely get a scolding from Denki, something she never thought would happen.
“Midoriya.” Iida started, making Izuku turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have hit you back there. I’m sorry. Forgive me.” He said, bowing to make his point. Izuku seemed like he didn’t know what to do, not having expected it. “Hey, it’s fine, you don’t need to apologize!” Izuku said.
Sasha shook her head. “Just let him, Izuku. You shouldn’t punch your friends.” She smiled, watching Iida deepen his bow. “But it’s great that Iida acknowledges that. He really is a great class rep.”
Iida straightened up and returned Sasha’s smile, and Sasha sighed as she felt the tension between them melt away all at once with that exchange. She didn’t want to fight Iida, and though they weren’t the closest, she cared for him. He was still her friend.
“I still have some concerns, Iida,” Yaoyorozu said, looking at him. “Like why did you change your mind so quickly? I had the rest of the day to make my decision, but you...” She trailed off.
“To be clear, I’m coming because I don’t condone your behavior, it’s as simple as that. If there’s even a hint that we’ll end up going into physical combat, I’ll make you all retreat immediately. So, in other words…” He pointed to Izuku. “I’m your watchman!” 
Sasha hummed softly. “I guess if anyone here needed a watchman, it'd be Izuku, right?” She pointed out, laughing under her breath with Eijirou. “You’re right. Midoriya is always ready to fight for his friends, not that it’s a bad trait in my opinion.” He agreed.
“I agree with Iida. Saving Bakugou is the pro’s job. Objectively speaking, there’s no reason for any of us to go after him. However, I understand how each of you feels, so I’m compromising.” She said, reaching behind her and then pulling out a tracker.
Sasha nodded. “And we appreciate both you and Iida for the compromise. But keep in mind, I’m an agent. I’m not planning on being involved in combat, but I will do what I have to in order to complete my goal, Bakugou’s safety. Also, I have my license and I’m authorized to fight villains.” She could feel their stare on her, especially Eijirou’s. She could feel his worry, but she continued. “I just wanted you guys to know where I stand. No matter what I have to do, his safety is my responsibility.”
“Hey...” Eijirou stopped her, watching her worriedly. “Let’s just think about this some more, okay?” He suggested, and Sasha felt guilty. She wasn’t a normal student, she felt a lot of responsibilities, both personal and professional. As much as she loved her friends, Bakugou’s safety was at risk. She wouldn’t lose him, no matter what.
When everyone had made their intentions clear, they continued on their journey. Sasha was confident, but she was also scared. This was her first time going against the commission. The people who, despite everything, had promised to help her figure out what happened with her parents. They’d given her that opportunity, which is why she’d remained loyal even though she knew they were using her as a child soldier. She’d completed every mission they gave her because they’d also been giving her leads on All For One. 
But how could they expect her to abandon everything now? How could they expect her to abandon Bakugou when he needed her the most? Maybe this was the difference between being an agent and being a hero. As an agent, you simply do what you’re told. As a hero, you do what you know needs to be done. How interesting, it seemed like she’d been thinking a lot more like a hero than an agent lately. She’d been acting with her heart, something she was taught not to do, but something she knew heroes did something. Maybe she was meant to be a hero deep down. But would she be able to completely separate from the commission?
Looking at Eijirou, she couldn’t help but smile. His determination truly astounded her. She was used to being in harm’s way, but he wasn’t. Yet he was still so brave, so willing to risk it all. Sure, he was a hero in training, but his resolve wasn’t something that could be taught. It was something deep within him, something she loved about him.
The thought made her blush and she looked at her feet. She’d just used the word “Love” to describe Eijirou for the first time. She wasn’t sure if she loved him, it was a bit early to tell. But she loved his resilience. She loved his kindness and his respectful nature. She loved his jokes and the way he held her hands. She couldn’t say she loved him for sure, but she loved everything about him, and that was a fact.
She knew that if Bakugou were there, he’d end up making fun of them. He’d tell them to get a room, and probably call them idiots for not getting together sooner. He’d scoff and roll his eyes, but he’d still end up grinning when he thought no one was looking. Sasha figured that’s why he tried to push her buttons so much because he knew she was looking. Of course, she was. He was one of her first best friends. She wouldn’t let a rare Bakugou smile go unnoticed, not in a million years.
Thinking about him and her friends was good for her. This way, she’d fight even harder if it came down to it. She knew the others wanted to avoid a fight, and she agreed with them. But if it came down to it, she’d fight All For One himself if it meant saving Bakugou and her friends. She wouldn’t let a single thing touch a hair on their heads, let alone harm them at all. She’d already felt like she let Bakugou down in those woods, and she wasn’t going to do it again.
The group found their way to the train station and onto the train. They took their seats, Sasha right next to Eijirou. She leaned into his side, letting him pull her into him. They gave each other comfort in this complicated, scary situation. No matter what, they were doing this together. He was her rock, so to speak, and she was his.
“The coordinates indicate Camino Ward, Yokohama City in Kanagawa Prefecture. We’ll end up betting there in about two hours, so everyone use this time to think.” Yaoyorozu said to them, looking down at the tracker in her hands. She’d been hoping through all of this that the group would change their minds as they got closer to their objective. She wanted them to realize how unrealistic their plan seemed and wanted them to leave this to the pro heroes.
“So, we should arrive at around ten o’clock tonight. We’re only two hours away from saving him.” Sasha said, earning a nod from Yaoyorozu.
“So, um…” Izuku started, speaking to Todoroki but gaining everyone’s attention. “Did you guys tell the rest of the class about this? Do they know what we’ll be doing tonight?” He asked with a worried expression.
Todoroki nodded and leaned back against his seat, shutting his eyes. “Yes. And they tried their best to talk us out of it.” He admitted. Eijirou swallowed what he was eating and added to what Todoroki had said. “Oh yeah, even Uraraka ganged up on us and tried to get us to change our minds.”
Sasha could see that conversation happening. Not only was Uraraka just a caring person in general, but Sasha could also see that she and Izuku had something going on. Well, she had something going on with Izuku at the very least. With Izuku being injured, she could only imagine how worried she must be. Uraraka has always had so much compassion for others, Sasha wished they didn’t need to make her, or any of her classmates, worry like this.
Izuku looked down looking crestfallen. It was obvious he felt the same way as Sasha, not wanting to make the others worry. He could only imagine how his mom would feel when she found out about this. He hated breaking her heart, but he couldn’t quit now. He wouldn’t let Bakugou slip from his grasp again.
“Just to make sure, you know we’re going against everyone’s wishes,” Todoroki crossed his arms, watching them closely. “And being completely selfish by doing this. We can call this off if we want to.”
Eijirou leaned forward. “Does it look like I want to turn back? Bakugou wouldn’t think twice about going after the villains if he were here.” He spoke. Sasha nodded, tapping the claw of her pointer finger against the soft armrest. “Exactly. He’d do the same for us. We’ve already come this far.” She added.
She knew he was right. Knowing Bakugou, we wouldn’t hesitate on a decision like this. Though he seemed like he didn’t care for them, she had been hiding her feelings long enough to know that he cared more than he showed. And when Bakugou cared about something, he went after it. That showed in how he went for his dreams so hard. 
“How are you feeling about all of this, Izuku?” Sasha asked, looking at the freckled boy in front of her. He was there when they’d lost Bakugou, running to reach for him right by Sasha’s side. The both of them had reached for Bakugou together and both of them were too late. She knew he was just as broken up about it as she was, if not more, having been Bakugou's childhood friend. 
Izuku looked up to meet her eyes. “... He’s my friend.” He went into thought for a moment, as if he were reflecting on something or choosing his next words. Then his gaze hardened. “I refuse to turn back.”
Sasha smiled slightly and leaned forward. “Thank you, Izuku.” 
He tilted his eyes, his eyes softening at her grateful tone. “Huh? For what...?” He asked in confusion, furrowing his eyebrows. 
“Well, when everything went down in those woods, you didn’t doubt me. You trusted me and believed in me. That meant a lot to me.” She said, looking down at her hands. She’d been meaning to thank him for a while, but she hadn’t been able to with him being in and out of consciousness. And of course, they’d devised a plan to save Bakugou as soon as he woke up.
He blinked owlishly before returning her small smile. “You don’t have to thank me, Sasha. I didn’t believe for a second that everything was fake. Maybe you were an agent, and it kinda hurt that you lied about that, but you had to.” He chuckled a bit, shrugging. 
Eijirou nodded, nuzzling Sasha. “Yeah, exactly. I knew there was no way you didn’t care about us. The way you fought with us, the memories we shared…” He pulled away to meet her amber eyes. “I held onto that because I trust you.”
Sasha leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, touched by his words. “Thank you, Eij. For so much. I’m happy that I met you, to be here with you. With everyone, honestly.” She said, kissing his cheek once more. 
He returned her smile. “I’m happy you’re here too, Sash.” He said, but his smile slowly began to fade, his expression getting serious. “That’s why I need you to be careful. I need you to come with us if things go bad.”
She shook her head, looking down at her lap. “I can’t do that, Eijirou. I’ve been fighting my whole entire life; I won’t stop now. Not if I have to.” She sighed, her gaze fixed on her palms. “I’m not looking for a fight. But if things do go bad, rely on me. I know you’re worried, but you guys are students. Worst comes to worst, you’ll have to retreat.” 
She took a breath and looked up with resolve. “But not me. So instead of trying to convince me to run, please put your faith in me to fight. And I promise that if things come to that, I’ll find my way back to you all. As long as my friends are relying on me, I feel like I can’t fail. So, depend on me.”
A silence took over, something that had been happening a lot tonight. There were plenty of mixed emotions among the group, but it was obvious no one wanted to leave Sasha behind. Still, they wouldn’t deny her request. If Sasha was dead set on this decision, they’d support her and cheer her on.
“It won’t get to that if all goes well. So, don’t worry. Trust us to make sure it doesn’t come to that.” Todoroki spoke, surprising her. She and Todoroki never spoke much, but they’d always had a mutual respect for each other. They acknowledged each other’s strength and persistence. Another thing they had in common was their strong bond with Izuku. 
Iida nodded. “I know it’s weird for us to treat you like a normal student, but we care for you. Like I said, I’m the class rep and I want to keep my classmates safe. That includes you, Sasha.” He sighed. “I admit, I had a hard time believing in you when we heard that announcement in the woods, but… Now that I know the truth, I’ll put my trust in you. So put your trust in us.” 
Sasha sat with her mouth agape before she slowly nodded. “Yeah, okay. Let’s put our faith in each other.”  She said, leaning back into the cushions of her seat.
Once that conversation was closed, Sasha allowed herself to withdraw into her mind. It was a tradition to get lost in her thoughts on her way to a mission. Technically, this wasn’t a mission. It wasn’t handed to her, in fact, the commission specifically told her not to handle this. But still, a personal mission was still a mission.
All of the talk of things going bad had made her think of Naomasa. She knew he would be disappointed, and worried sick. All he ever wanted was for her to be safe, and to tell him if she was going to do something risky. She couldn’t risk telling him this though. As much as she trusted him, what they were doing was wrong, at least according to the pros, the commission, and the police. According to all of the adults, in fact. He would definitely stop her, if not because it's his job, he’d do it to keep her safe. 
Still, the worst-case scenario was she never came back home, just like her parents. She wouldn’t even be able to say goodbye. She didn’t want to leave him with the grief she’d been feeling for so long. Just thinking about how heartbroken Naomasa would be if something happened to her, there was no way she’d let that happen. 
She was going to return home after all of this was over, and all of them would end up back home with their loved ones. And that included Bakugou.
- Camino Ward, Kanagawa Prefecture -
“So this is Camino Ward?” Izuku asked, looking around curiously.
Sasha nodded. “Yeah, pretty busy, right?” She hummed softly. It wasn’t her first time being here, she’d come to this area for a mission or two once before. The crowd could be quite annoying sometimes, even now, Sasha had to turn down her hearing pieces. Missions would have been a lot easier if she’d had these earpieces a long time ago.
“The villains are hiding somewhere around this city, right?” Eijirou said, clenching his fists. “Just tell me where to go!”
“Wait for a second!” Yaoyorozu yelled after him, Sasha quickly wrapped her arms around his waist to stop him. “Woah, hold your horses, Eiji!” The leopard girl said, holding back a chuckle as he immediately stopped running in her arms. He turned in her arms, looking at them curiously.
Yaoyorozu looked at all of them, pointing a finger up to make her point. “From now on, we need to be extremely careful. After all, the criminals already know what we look like, right?”
Sasha nodded. “Definitely. If not from the woods, then from the Sports Festival, so they’ll know our quirks too, so we should be careful of where and how we use them.” She pointed out.
Izuku nodded at them. “Yeah, you guys are right.” He struck a pose, using his arms to make an “X” over his face. “Stealth mode.” He said quietly, crouching a bit.
Sasha couldn’t help but snort in laughter at the pose he’d pulled. She knew they were supposed to be serious, but in her defense, that was the least serious thing Izuku could have done.“I think you’re standing out even more Midoriya.” Todoroki said, looking at him. 
Iida placed a hand on his chin. “This is going to be difficult, you know. We won’t be able to scout if we’re recognizable.” He looked down as if thinking. Yaoyorozu spoke up, her cheeks a bit pink. “I actually have an idea, though it’s kind of old school.” She said, pointing to a shop behind her.
- 35 Minutes -
They all came out in their disguises. Sasha wore a black hoodie with a long black wig, also wearing sunglasses to hide her familiar amber eyes. She hummed softly, looking at herself. “I don’t look too bad.”
“Right?” Eijirou said, grinning at himself in the mirror. He fixed the jacket he wore, pulling at his sleeves a bit. “I kind of dig it, you know?”
As they left, Sasha couldn’t help but giggle as Izuku began putting on this “tough guy, gangster” act. “Watch it, you punks! Get lost!” He shouted, hands in his pockets. As Eijirou began critiquing his performance, Sasha grinned. It seemed he had drawn inspiration from Bakugou.
Todoroki asked Yaoyorozu why she hadn’t just made the disguises herself, and she began talking about how if she started making everything, it would impact the economy badly, and that it was their civic duty to “ensure the flow of commerce”.
“So, she just loves to go shopping.” Sasha smiled, shaking her head. “She’s honestly kinda adorable.” She thought to herself. She’d never seen Yaoyorozu get so animated about something, but it was nice to see.
When she was calm, Yaoyorozu began leading the way. “Come one, it seems we’ve got to go this way.” She said, making the others follow. 
“Woah, it’s UA high!” 
The others jumped and quickly turned to see what the ruckus was about, only to see everyone looking at a giant screen.
Sasha sighed in relief, knowing they were closer to saving Bakugou. Their mission was almost complete. The best thing she could do was do her best and hope that things turned out according to plan. On the screen were Principal Nezu, Vlad King, and Aizawa.
“Looks like they have an announcement to give,” Sasha said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “This is unexpected. I wonder what they have to say…”
“We are here to apologize,” Aizawa said, making Sasha frown as he continued. “A recent incident allowed harm to come to 27 first-year heroes. We staff were ill-prepared. We take full responsibility for any trauma caused by our negligence.” The three of them bowed to make sure their message got across. “Our job is to train heroes, but also to protect heroes in training.”
“This is crazy. He hates being on TV.” Eijirou spoke, craning his neck to stare up at the screen with the rest of them. Sasha nodded in agreement. Everyone knew that “Eraserhead” didn’t like being in front of cameras. He was kind of like an agent working under the commission in that way, doing his job under wraps.
A reporter began talking about how so many attacks had occurred with the first-year students, pointing out how there were quite a few students injured this time. He concluded by asking how they explain these instances to the parents.
Izuku, who was clenching his fists, began to speak but trailed off. “They’re treating them like…” 
“Villains.” Sasha finished for him, glaring at the screen. While it was true that the students were under UA’s watch and responsibility, she knew that it wasn’t all their fault. It was more her own fault than theirs, but Sasha also knew she was following orders. It seemed like everyone was paying the price, with guilt and press conferences. Everyone except…
“I really didn’t want to go as far as I did. I wanted to stop after what happened at the mall. But I had my orders,” Sasha said, narrowing her slitted eyes.  It didn’t make sense how everyone looked down on her, on UA. But no one thought to look down on them. “So why aren’t the ones who gave me orders taking responsibility? Don’t tell me... Am I a fall guy?”
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blinkiesreal · 8 months
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more political blinkies for ur tastes,,,
demz
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burningtacozombie · 1 year
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‘Hotel Cocaine’: Yul Vazquez Joins Danny Pino & Michael Chiklis In MGM+ Series
EXCLUSIVE: Yul Vazquez is set as a lead opposite Danny Pino & Michael Chiklis in Hotel Cocaine, MGM+’s upcoming crime thriller from creator Chris Brancato.
Hotel Cocaine is the story of Roman Compte (Pino), a Cuban expatriate who fought against Fidel Castro in the Bay of Pigs invasion and re-made his life in Miami. He is general manager of the Mutiny Hotel, the glamorous epicenter of the Miami cocaine scene of late ‘70s and early ‘80s. The Mutiny Hotel was Casablanca on cocaine, a glitzy nightclub, restaurant and hotel frequented by Florida businessmen and politicians, international narcos, CIA and FBI agents, models, sports stars and musicians.
Vazquez will play Nestor Cabal, Roman Compte’s (Pino) brother and one of the biggest suppliers of cocaine to a coke-hungry Miami population. He’s dangerous, funny, wily, and seeking reunion with his long-lost brother.
Chiklis plays Agent Zulio who will stop at nothing to shut down the drug trade, even if it means using innocent civilians to accomplish his ends.
Brancato serves as executive producer and showrunner. Guillermo Navarro will direct the pilot episode and executive produce the series, with Michael Panes and Alfredo Barrios Jr. also serving as executive producers. The eight-episode series from MGM+ Studios, in partnership with MGM Television, will begin production in May in the Dominican Republic, and is slated to premiere in early 2024.
Vazquez will next be seen in the HBO Max limited series White House Plumbers, opposite Woody Harrelson and Justin Theroux. He was most recently seen on season 3 of the MGM+ series Godfather of Harlem opposite Forest Whitaker and in the Emmy-nominated Apple TV+ series, Severance, directed by Ben Stiller. His other credits include Jason Bateman’s HBO series The Outsider, ABC’s Promised Land, Netflix’s Russian Doll, TNT miniseries I Am The Night and HBO’s Succession, among others. His film work includes Books of Blood, Last Flag Flying, Gringo, Traffic and The Infiltrator. He’s repped by Untitled Entertainment and The Gersh Agency.
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Rep. Madison Cawthorn (R-N.C.) has twice been stopped trying to bring a gun onto a plane. He claimed his colleagues take cocaine and hold orgies. He suggested House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) is an alcoholic, even though she doesn’t drink. He might be caught up in an insider trading scheme, and a GOP senator from his own state has called for an investigation. He has called Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy a “thug.” Multiple women have accused him of sexual harassment.
And his constituents have decided they have had enough.
Cawthorn, 26, lost his bid for reelection Tuesday, falling to state Sen. Chuck Edwards in the GOP primary in the 11th Congressional District. Seven challengers had stepped up to challenge Cawthorn in this deeply red district. He called Edwards to concede Tuesday night.
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“This is simply incredible. Against all odds, we fought hard to win this election and provide clear conservative leadership for the mountains,” Edwards said in a statement after his win.
With Tuesday’s results, many of his colleagues in Washington and North Carolina are likely breathing a sigh of relief. In recent weeks, Cawthorn faced an onslaught of unflattering opposition research and questions about his mental stability. Republican leaders in the state ― including Sen. Thom Tillis, who backed Edwards ― worked mightily to unseat him.
Cawthorn was once a rising star in the Republican Party, getting a speaking spot at the party’s 2020 convention as a political newcomer after his surprise win the GOP primary in his district.
In 2014, at the age of 18, he was in a car crash that left him partially paralyzed. He has said that he’d struggled mentally since the crash ― and even contemplated suicide.
“I think it slowed my brain down a little bit. Made me less intelligent,” Cawthorn said in a deposition. “And the pain also made reading and studying very difficult.”
A year later, he made his start in politics ― a part-time job as an assistant in one of then-Rep. Mark Meadows’ North Carolina district offices.
Cawthorn had his fair share of controversies from the get-go, but criticism from his GOP colleagues has stepped up in recent months. He lost the support of much of the Republican establishment in North Carolina, including Tillis, and the State’s House Speaker and Senate Leader ― all of whom backed Edwards in the primary.
Some of the frustration was far more local and personal. Last year, Cawthorn angered Tillis when he called the senator “a terrible campaigner” and “a complete RINO” (“Republican in name only”) at a Republican meeting in the state.
Tillis praised Edwards as the “embodiment of Mountain values who will fight for them every single day in Congress with honor and integrity” in a statement Tuesday night.
Cawthorn also briefly talked about switching districts, pushing aside and disparaging Tim Moore, the State House Speaker and presumed front-runner.
And as a congressman, Cawthorn faced criticism for ignoring constituent services back home.
“Unfortunately, Madison Cawthorn has fallen well short of the most basic standards western North Carolina expects from their representatives,” Tillis said in late March.
“On any given day, he’s an embarrassment,” added Sen. Richard Burr (R-N.C.), who did not endorse anyone in the race.
Trump finally endorsed Cawthorn on Monday, the day before the election.
“When Madison was first elected to Congress, he did a great job,” Trump said in a post on the social media platform that he created that has failed to take off in a significant way. “Recently, he made some foolish mistakes, which I don’t believe he’ll make again…let’s give Madison a second chance!”
A group of Cawthorn’s constituents challenged his eligibility to be on the ballot, arguing that he shouldn’t be allowed to run because, they say, the congressman “advocated for political violence both before and after” Jan. 6, 2021, and that the actions of Cawthorn and others “led directly, intentionally, and foreseeably to the insurrectionists’ violent assault on the Capitol.”
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stargazer-sims · 2 years
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Journal Entry #44 (part one)
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Yuri
To borrow a phrase from Victor... Worst. Day. Ever.
This whole horrible chain of events started on Wednesday, two days ago, when one of our firm's clients decided to have a go at doing their own social media communications without consulting us. Needless to say, the results were problematic. They thought they were being clever and funny, but the entire swath of customers they'd offended with their casually racist attempt at humour hadn't thought so.
Following a veritable tsunami of negative feedback overnight, the client called my boss, Mr. Tanaka, in a panic on Thursday morning, demanding that he do something about it. Mr. Tanaka is still guiding me a little, but it’s technically my file, and it’s one of the more significant ones he’s given me to work on since my promotion back in the summer. Naturally, the proverbial stone always rolls downhill, so despite Mr. Tanaka taking the initial call, this problem also quickly became my problem.
After getting his ear practically chewed off by the client’s representative, Mr. Tanaka called me and filled me in on the situation. He told me that I needed to be on the next train to Kyoto so that we could meet with the client rep and do some damage control.
The next train to Kyoto was this morning — Friday — but I decided to drive instead. That may have been the only blessing in this disastrous day, but I'll get to that.
It's not a super common occurrence, thankfully, but one of our clients going rogue, doing something foolish and then forcing us to clean up after them does happen often enough not to be surprising. It's annoying, but dealing with it is part of my job, and I accept that I have to take the bad with the good.
Having to go to the city on short notice to deal with a client-made situation wouldn't normally be an issue. The problem with going to the city today was that today was also the first day of competition for the Yukimatsu Peak Cup, which is a qualifier for the All-Japan Snowboarding Championship. Victor was competing, of course, and I'd promised him I would come and watch him. Now, because of this sudden crisis at work, I couldn't be there.
He was not happy at all when he found out, and I couldn't blame him for being disappointed. I was disappointed, too. I'd wanted to see him compete as much as he wanted me to be there to cheer him on.
We didn't speak to each other much last night, each of us brooding in our own little bubble of resentment and self-pity. In hindsight, I realize we shouldn’t have gone to bed without at least trying to talk about it, but I guess neither of us was thinking clearly enough to suggest that. We each slept in our own rooms. I hate it when that happens, especially when it's because our communication has broken down or we're not getting along.
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This morning, I woke up feeling awful. I was in enough pain that I seriously considered not going anywhere, even though I knew that wasn't really an option. Unless I was literally too ill to function, I would be at the office. This wouldn't be the first time I'd be relying on painkillers and willpower to survive a work day.
Victor stayed in his room when I got up, which was unusual for him. He didn't even come out to ask if I was okay, though I'm certain he must've heard me being horribly sick in the bathroom next door. Usually, he'd be right there, making a huge fuss over me and asking me a zillion times if there was anything he could do, but this morning, I was on my own. I fought the urge to cry as I stood under the hot spray of water in the shower, already despising everything about this day that had barely begun.
The medication was starting to dull my pain by the time I'd fixed my hair and finished getting dressed. I didn't feel better, exactly, but at least I believed I could manage.
I looked at my snowflake bracelet sitting on top of the dresser and actually debated with myself for a second whether or not I wanted to put it on. In the end, I wore it because despite feeling ignored and a little bit angry, it seemed petty just to leave it lying there conspicuously for Victor to see the next time he came into my room.
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Downstairs, I found Victor in the kitchen. He must've left his room while I was in the shower. He was brewing a pot of tea, and he didn't turn around when I entered.
"Morning," he said. "I made breakfast. Are you going to eat?"
"Will it be a problem if I don't?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Do what you want."
I stared at him, even though his back was toward me. "You're not even going to try to convince me?"
"No," he said. "What'd be the point? If you don't feel like eating, you don't have to. I'm not going to harass you about it. I don't want to complicate your life any more than it is already."
I sighed. "Victor, you don't complicate my life. Why would you say something like that?"
"You said I'm unreasonable."
"When did I say—"
"Last night," he said. "Remember, when you were telling me about your stupid work meeting, and I said I wished you didn't have to go to the city today?"
"I said you were being unreasonable because you were acting like I'm doing this on purpose," I said. "I actually want to see you in the competition, you know. If it were up to me, I wouldn't be going to Kyoto today, but it's out of my hands."
"It is not," he said. "You do most of your other work meetings by video conference. I don't see why you couldn't do this one that way. At least you'd get to come and see me in my first event this morning."
"It's not up to me. Mr. Tanaka asked me to go to the office. What could I do? Besides, even if I could do it by video conference, the meeting with the client is this morning."
"You could've told your boss you had a prior commitment."
"Going to your snowboarding competition is not a prior commitment."
"Yes it is," he said. "You promised."
"Is that what this is about, me not being able to keep my promise?"
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He finally turned around, and his face looked exactly like Yuki’s does when we tell her she can’t have cake before dinner. "What did you think it was about?"
"Victor, you're being immature," I said. "I know you're upset and I'm sorry, but my clients and my job are important."
"More important than me?"
"No. I didn't mean it like that. Of course you're important. You're the most important, but you need to understand that some things take priority sometimes. I really am sorry I can't be on the mountain with you today, and I'm not breaking my promise because I want to."
"Okay," he said. "I get it."
"Do you?" I asked, because his tone and his body language suggested that either he didn't get it, or he did but refused to accept it.
"Yeah, I do. I just don't like it. I think there could've been a way around it, like asking your client to be flexible or something. I mean, it's their own fault they're in the mess they're in. It'd serve them right to make them wait."
"You know that's not how it works."
"It's stupid," was his response.
I had to agree that it was. Victor wasn't wrong about it being the client's own fault either, but I'm not high enough up the chain to point that out to them and still have a job at the end of the day. I said, "I don't want to fight about this any more."
"We're not fighting," he said.
"What are we doing?"
"Having a conversation. Expressing our thoughts."
"Okay," I said. "If that's what we're doing, then my current thought is that I don't want to leave with you angry at me.”
“I’m not angry.”
“Can you tell me how you’re feeling, then? Because you seem angry to me.”
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“I don’t know," he said. "Disappointed? Sad and annoyed and… kind of angry too, I guess. I know it’s not your fault and I'm not mad at you. I'm just upset by the situation. Like, I get that your job’s important, but this is important to me and I really wanted you to be there."
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what else to say. I'll be there to see you in your other events tomorrow and Sunday, and there'll be other competitions this season. I'll come to as many as I can. I pr—“
“Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want you to promise me anything else.” He looked away. “It’ll hurt too much when you end up not being able to do it.”
“Victor—“
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“I have to get ready,” he said. He turned abruptly and headed for the stairs. “See you when you get back from Kyoto tonight.”
“What about your breakfast?”
"Don't worry about it."
“No going on the mountain without eating breakfast," I reminded him. "That’s the rule.”
“I know. I’ll eat before I leave.” he said, already disappearing up the steps and out of my sight. “Don’t miss your train. Take your meds, and remember to eat something today. Protein, Yuri. Not useless carbs.”
“Okay, no carbohydrates. And I’m taking the car.”
“Okay, cool," was the disembodied acknowledgement.
“I love you,” I called up the stairs. “Be safe.”
He didn't reply, and I silently questioned whether or not he'd even heard me. I tried to convince myself he hadn't, because I don't think he's ever missed an opportunity to tell me he loves me. In fact, he's usually the first to say it and I'm the one to respond.
Of course I knew he loved me without needing to hear him say it. One disagreement wasn't going to change everything we'd created together over the past five years. We don't argue as much as some couples do, but it's not as if we never fight or disagree about things, and we've always worked our way through it, both during the time our relationship was long distance and during the two years that we've lived together. If we didn't love each other, we wouldn't try to fix things when they go wrong. One or the other would've walked away long ago.
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The drive into the city felt interminable. The moment I arrived at the office, I wanted to text Victor to let him know I got there, but I realized that he was probably on the mountain already and wouldn't have his phone. He doesn't usually take it with him to competitions, and if he did bring it for some reason, more than likely his coach would have it.
With that in mind, I slipped into the empty conference room where our meeting was going to take place, and texted Victor's coach instead. Her name is Sakura Fujimoto. I think I've mentioned her before, and I'm sure Victor has as well.
Victor and Sakura met one another only a few weeks after he came here. They met on the mountain, of course, and the two of them had bonded over their passion for snowboarding and the fact that they were both high-level competitors.
For the first little while, it seemed they just hung out casually and sometimes trained together, but the nature of their relationship changed last season when Sakura injured her back during a competition. Apparently, the doctors told her that it'd likely be a career-ending injury at her age. She hung up her board — named Senbazuru, in case you thought Victor was the only one who names his snowboards — and found a full-time job, which happened to be at the fitness center in Kiyomatsu. She was thrilled when Victor started working there last summer too, and that's when they hatched their plan for Sakura to get back into the game by coaching him.
Sakura replied to my text, saying that she was indeed with Victor, and they they were going to watch Seiji in his first freestyle event. She said the event order had been switched, so that the women's parallel giant slalom would be in the morning and the men's event in the afternoon. I told her that I didn't know how long I was going to be in the city, but if I could, I'd try to get back in time.
«Tell Victor I said not to break his neck» was the next message I sent to her.
Her response was an annoyed face emoji and «That's not funny. I'm not telling him that.»
As much as I didn't want to admit it, her reply hurt, like a sharp little jab in the center of my chest. Belatedly, it occurred to me that she had no clue about our little pre-competition ritual. Maybe Victor told her we'd had a disagreement, and now she thought I was being a smartass.
I considered asking her to pass her phone to Victor so I could call and talk to him, but just as I was about to do that, the door of the conference room opened, and my boss walked in with a white lady who looked like she'd had a couple of sleepless nights.
She was the representative of our client, and her name is Helena Flatt. I had to suppress the urge to ask if there was a correlation between her surname and the success of her attempt at humour.
Honestly, I did try feel even a tiny shred of sympathy for her, but no matter what, I couldn't. This woman wasn't only ruining my day, but undoubtedly Victor's as well.
«Tell him I love him» I hurriedly texted to Sakura, and then I had to put my phone down as Mr. Tanaka greeted me and gestured for the frazzled Ms. Flatt to sit across from me at the table.
My phone was on silent, but I didn't hear it buzz with a new reply from Sakura. I wondered if she'd given Victor my last message.
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hyacinthsfolklore · 2 years
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The Refugee Part One
When the ogres attacked our capital they weren’t just aiming to steal our land. They were trying to destroy everything about us. Even those living in the colony of woodnote had to flee. Vesa had left alongside Salix , her babes Koa and Ivo in arms. They ventured far, being pushed to the limits. They went without food or drink for over a month. They were left without a chance to rest in fear of what might come upon them. They had to gaze upon the wreckage of the once beautiful city. It was now crumbling and occupied by ogres. They had ruined a sacred ground. The quartet was to sneak past grounds that had once belonged to our kind. Salix was given a large gash along his leg by a fallen rock. They couldn’t afford to to stop to treat it so it festered. They had finally reached the end of ogre territory and came across a large river. Salix had managed to limp Across it using a large log. He was thankfully carrying the two babies. Vesa had started to cross when a low growl rang out. She tensed and readied herself for an attack. The ogre flew at her, but she managed to duck. The threat of the monster endangering her family was enough to fill her with a renewed vigor. She called to her husband to get the children to safety. As he read she braced herself for another attack. When the ogre charged again she mustered enough force to push it into the river. She had finally started to relax, when a hand grabbed the riverbank. She could only watch in horror as the ogre fought it’s way back up. She grabbed a sturdy fallen branch and swung. The ogre fell back and once again tried climbing up. Vesa swung, and the cycle continued. The ogre mad a little bit more progress each time and eventually made it all the way up. Vesa was ready when she faced the beast. She managed to fend him off with a good smack to the head. One of the ogres teeth fell out. Vesa put it in her pocket. With one final smack the ogre was once again pushed into the river. Vesa shoved a pile of rocks onto its body to make sure it drowned. The energy drained out of her body. She had barely managed to cross the log, when she found her family. The two babies were crying. Salix was sitting down, looking to be in pure agony. His leg wound looked significantly worse. It was leaking pus and had an awful odor coming from it. Salix told Vesa to leave him and keep the babies safe. Vesa insisted on being with him in his final breaths. They sat there in silence while his life drained out of him. He whispered something in her ear before passing on. His last I love you would never be forgotten. All four of them drifted off into sleep. When three of them woke up they saw a great canopy of leaves shielding them from harm. They had found the strength to continue on. They soon came upon an elven manor. They were given food while she told their tale. The elves welcomed them into their home and, they soon grew comfortable. Vesa planted marigold seed on the ground and played her flute for them everyday. She poured her grief into every note. Koa and Ivy’s skin hardened as they grew. They slowly started to heal. The fear that once surrounded Vesa, slowly started fading. In the mornings Ivo and Koa would play with the elven children of the manor. At night, the kids would play in the garden, moonlight showering them. One such night, smoke began to fill their noses. They ran to get their mother, knowing danger from the stories they had grown up on. When they reached Vesa, they saw her calmly playing for the marigolds. They told her about the smoke, and she went closer to investigate. The house was nothing but a molten mass of crystal. Vesa saw two limp bodies a couple steps away. Upon closer inspection, she recognized the two boys of the manor, Navi and Dalsen. She carried the petite figures a safe distance away from the fire. She buried them to nourish the now ruined earth. Two moon flowers served as a grave marker. She hoped the flowers would flourish in the night that had taken the children they represented.
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