#it's so funny that they look identical. like down to the 'one random white spot on their side that should not have been on both of them'
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Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}
Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.
Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.
Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz
Life As We Know It Masterlist
Shelby’s Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist
* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story!
** Trigger warning: Miscarriage.
This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer.
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”
She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.
Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.
It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.
And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.
It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”
“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”
Nesta’s eyes narrowed.
Elain’s smile widened.
After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.
She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.
Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.
*
When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.
Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.
Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.
Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.
“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.
Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”
“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”
“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”
“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”
Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”
Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.”
Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”
“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”
“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.
“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.
Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”
He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”
Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.
“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”
“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.
She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”
He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”
“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.
He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.
“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”
Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”
“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim.
“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.
Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”
She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”
“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”
“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.
“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.
“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.
His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”
Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”
Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”
She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”
“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”
Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”
“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”
She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”
“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”
Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”
Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?”
“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”
Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”
“But?” Nesta asked.
“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.”
“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”
Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”
Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.
“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”
“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.
He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”
Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”
“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.
“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.
Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”
Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”
Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.
“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”
Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”
Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”
Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”
“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.
She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”
“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”
“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”
She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”
“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”
“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”
“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet.
He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.
Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back.
Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.”
“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”
He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?”
She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”
Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”
“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”
He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”
“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.
Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.
“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”
Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”
Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”
Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”
They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.
Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.
It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.
He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.
With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.
“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.
The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.
“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.
“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush.
He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.
“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering.
“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”
Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.
There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…
She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”
The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”
She gnawed into her lip, nodding.
“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.
She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”
He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.
Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”
The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.
“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”
Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead.
“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”
“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.
She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”
Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.
“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”
“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.
She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.
She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”
Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.
“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.
“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.
She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”
He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”
Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.”
“You didn’t know,” he shot back.
Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”
“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye.
“It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”
“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.
Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”
She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.
“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”
He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”
Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”
He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”
“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.
He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”
“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”
Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”
Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.
Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”
“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder.
“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.
Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”
“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”
She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”
He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”
“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”
She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.
“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”
“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in.
“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?”
Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.
It was tempting.
It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.
But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh.
Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.”
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Just Another Class Trip :) Part 2
Marinette sacrifices Adrien and then steals his alter ego.
First<>Next
----------------
With the help of the staff Marinette is directed to the room she will be sharing with Chloe and Kagami. It was meant to be two to a room, but yada yada Lila yada yada medical condition yada yada tears= Lila gets her own room.
“Marinette,” Kagami spots her first, rising from the couch.
“Mari!” Chloe vaults over the couch and hug tackles her, Marinette barely moves an inch, “You should have heard all the shit Lila was saying on the way here, you’d think it be enough she got the class to leave you behind!”
“Perhaps it’s best if you do not,” Kagami pulls Chloe off her, “You didn’t answer your phone,”
“Flat,”
“Bags?”
“Stolen,”
“Lila?”
“Probably,”
“Well lucky for you housekeeping dropped this by earlier,” Chloe hands her a box, inside filled with essential items, tooth brush, hair brush, even a pair of pyjamas, along with a note
‘Courtesy of the Waynes, for Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng’
“Must be a generic package,” She had shrugged off the bellhops earlier saying her bags were lost.
“Well since you don’t have to unpack, help me with this,” Chloe leads her over to their kitchen that might actually be bigger than her houses.
On the counter beauty products are lined up along with random ingredients.
“We’re making face masks!”
“Correction, Chloe is making face masks,” Kagami scolds, “I argued that sleep would be more effective,”
“And yet you didn’t go to sleep,” Chloe teases, mashing up avocado.
“Well not without you,” Kagami smirks, making Chloe blush, but it’s not like her to back down.
“Awe, you’d wait for me~” Chloe relishes in the blush dusting Kagami's cheeks.
Marinette dry heaves, wondering how long they were going to keep pretending to flirt like this, each too stubborn to back down. They have been doing this more and more recently, great that they were more comfortable around each other but…
“How about we go to bed,” Marinette disturbs their challenging stares.
“Not without Kagami,”
“I already used that one,”
“I never said we’d use the bed for sleeping~”
“Hey!” Her exclamation doesn't get them to drop their staring contest, “Do either of you know what room Adrien is in?”
“End of the hall,” They both answer, not looking at her.
“Great,” Marinette hastily grabs her bag and the box, she could get ready in Adrien's room, away from the weirdness.
She practically runs down the hall, ignoring her Kwami’s snickering.
“Mari!” Adrien throws the door open for her, “Did everything go ok, you didn’t answer your phone, you look upset,”
“Sorted everything out with security no problems, Phones dead, Bag stolen,” She plops down on the couch next to Nino, “Chlo and Kags are driving me crazy,”
“How long have you been back?” She looks down at her watch.
“Three minutes,”
“Are they doing that thing again?” Adrien, Kwami bless him hands her a mug of coffee.
“Yep,” She takes a sip from the mug, she retracts that blessing “Betrayal! This isn’t coffee!”
“It’s hot chocolate,” Adrien is in the kitchen fixing another mug, “You need to go to bed, and coffee will keep you up,”
No she needed to go on patrol, and a coffee is vital to her surviving it.
“What’s up with Chloe and Kagami?” Nino takes off his headphones.
“They started teasing each other by jokingly flirting but their both too stubborn to back down," Marinette sighs, downing half the mug of hot chocolate so she can get herself a damn coffee, "So they get uncomfortable then we get uncomfortable and its overall very uncomfortable,”
“I think it’s kind of funny,” Adrien sits down next to her, mug in hand.
“It would be if they both weren’t horrible at flirting,” She steals the mug away from him taking a sip.
That is not coffee, that is sugar disguised as a liquid
“That’s the funny part,” Adrien smiles as she hands back the mug,
“Touche Agreste, Touche,”
“If you wanted you could sleep in my room,” Nino offers, oh so innocently.
“Thank’s Nino, but I would rather Alya not kill me,”
“Nah dude, I was going to stay with Alya anyway Madame Bustier wont mind,” Yeah their teacher really should learn not to trust teenagers, "So you can have my room,”
“Nino you are a godsent,”
Nino cleans up his few thrown about items and bids them adieu. Marinette was glad they could still talk, maybe they were even still friends. When you have the devil in one ear and her loyal sidekick in the other it is actually kind of impressive they still have a friendly relationship.
“So how’s your day been?” Marinette gathers up the strength to start a conversation after making her own coffee, and her mouth was only very burnt from chugging a hot drink.
“Good, Chloe took us to a supermarket, I brought a bunch of american snacks!”
Indeed he had, Marinette watches in mild horror as he plops bags full of junk food in front of her.
“I didn’t realise we were feeding an army,” Adrien starts rooting through the bags, “If a super villain comes after you because you brought all their favourite snacks in Gotham I’m not protecting you,”
“I’d just share with them,” Adrien hums, chomping down on a chocolate bar.
“... Yeah that could work,” Dear Kwami I have to protect this sunshine child, “Maybe,”
“Oi, don’t eat too much, I don't want to have to re tailor your outfit for the runway,” She teases, regretting it immediately as Adrien's shoulders sag.
“Sorry,”
“Adri I’m kidding,” She places a hand on his shoulder smiling gently, “I already made the measurements a bit bigger so you’re good.
“Have I ever told you you’re the best?”
“Not enough you haven't,” Marinette huffs in mock offence, “Now eat,”
She shoves the chocolate bag in his face, getting it all over his cheek. They both start laughing as Adrien tries to get his revenge. They end up falling off the couch, Marinette on top of him. Adrien is blushing a bright red, Marinette just grins and shoves the chocolate in his face before getting up.
She could almost laugh at how her younger self would react to that. It wasn't as if she didn’t like Adrien, well maybe not in that way anymore, she honestly hadn't put that much thought into it lately. Things just got busy she supposed, Akumas got harder, then she became the guardian, she started her fashion career. Actually her fashion career might be at fault.
Gabriel had started lending Adrien to model for her more and more. The man stepping further and further back from the fashion world, or the world in general, over the years for whatever the reason. At first she had been a blushing mess around Adrien, not directing him properly and making her work suffer for it. Overtime she had learnt how to handle it, getting less flustered every time they worked together. Now that she thought about it, when she had revealed her identity as MDC Adrien didn’t seem surprised; maybe her work attitude had bled into her regular life well before then.
Marinette is washing the chocolate off when a knock sounds at the door. Neither feel like walking to it so shout out ‘come in’. That turned out to be a mistake as Lila bursts into the room. How were they supposed to know Lila would actually knock?!
“Marinette you slut!” Lila all but screeches.
“Lila, you don’t have an audience and neither of us believe you,” Marinette comes out of the bathroom, already bored of the conversation she really needed to go, Lila and Marinette both.
“Well just wait, tomorrow the whole class is going to know what you did,” Lila gets up in her face, so close she can smell her perfume.
No not Lila's perfume her perfume.
“Right, sorry to say but there’s worse rumours than sleeping with a supermodel,” Marinette tries to edge her way around Lila, good excuse as any to dip out for patrol.
“Not if I say you forced him,” Lila looks way to self satisfied for what she is implying
I think the fuck not
“Nah,” Adrien shrugs, getting Lila’s ire turned on him, a noble sacrifice indeed.
“Nah?” Lila looks livid, “What do you mean Nah !”
“I’d just say I wanted to,” Adrien stays calm with Lila's face inches from him, Marinette gives him the thumbs up as she edges closer to the door, Adrien nods back.
She loved this version of the high road
“After all Marinette's super pretty and talented,” Adrien gushes, Marinette grins at the face Lila must be making, “Honestly your lie is so unbelievable, why would she ever go for someone like me?”
Marinette closes the door on Lila’s cursing response, saying a quick word of praise for Adrien's bravery and sacrifice.
At least he gets to see Lila’s reaction when she realises I’m gone
Marinette uses a back door of the hotel to get to the street, not wanting the staff to stop her and warn about the dangers. She skips along looking for a good place to change. The city was actually kind of beautiful at night, she feels drawn to it in a strange way.
“Marinette!” Tikki looks out from her scarf, “You forgot the Miracle box,”
“Shoot!” She looks back to the hotel, a few blocks away from it by now, “It’ll be fine Tikki I leave it at home all the time,”
“You’re not at home right now,” Tikki looks worried, those are her friends after all, “It’s a guardians duty-”
Marinette tries not to groan, she really does.
“I know Tikki, I know,” She looks over the buildings surrounding her, feeling a deep itch to see Gotham from the rooftops “But can’t I just be myself for once, not the guardian?”
“You are the guardian,” Tikki insists, before sighing, “Which means you can make your own decisions regarding the miracle box,”
“Thank you Tikki,” She hugs the little Kwami, “I promise to be back super quick, I just have to stop one bad guy, an eye witness account of Starling so I don’t just appear randomly, I won’t even need to go on patrol again after this,”
“Alright Marinette, I trust you,” Tikki nuzzles her cheek, easing Marinette's conscience.
With that she ducks out of sight to get changed. Her costume is pretty simple really. All she had to do was pull her infinity scarf up, discrete holes allowing her to see. She turns her skirt inside out to a black side, with white, purple, and blue detailing to stick to her Starling namesake. The skirt pulls over her shoulders, a zip down the middle allowing her more movement, and a zip to form a secret hood.
Ready to go she climbs up to the roof, super strength and speed making roof hopping easier. She supposed if someone looked too hard they would be able to piece together pieces of her costume but her ‘cape’ hides the detailing of her shirt. Besides if she has her way she won’t have to use this identity ever again, but she rarely has her way.
About ten minutes into her search through Gotham she spots a broken window. Not notable except that the lights are on. She lowers herself onto the fire escape and sure enough someone is being held at gunpoint.
“Excuse me,” Both people jump, spinning to look at Starling casual sitting on the broken glass on the window sill, “You seem to have a very rude house guest on your hands,”
“Who the hell are you!?” The burglar turns their gun on her.
“Just a stray passing through,” She gives a bright smile, and a very Chat like bow, “Starling at your service… milady,”
If I’m going Chat I might as go full Chat Noir, hope he doesn't file a lawsuit against me
“Ummm,” The woman looks very confused, but not as confused as the burglar.
“Would you like me to remove him from your home?”
“Ah… yes?”
With another smile Starling makes her move. In the split second it takes the burglar to register her offer she's standing in front of him. The gun moves a second too late as she ceases his arm, her strength being as good as handcuffs. She hits a pressure point her Aunt taught her to make him drop the gun, kicking it away. Pinning the man's arm behind his back she spins him around, zip tying his hands.
“What the fuck!!”
“That’s no kind of language,” Starling reprimands, pushing him towards the window, “Now apologise,”
“What?! No way fuck you!” Starling grins, hooking a bungee cord to his shirt.
“Alright then, bye!” She pushes him out the window.
His screaming doesn't stop even when she watches as he bounces back up, dangling out the window. She grins.
Ladybug would never get away with that
Tying the other end of the cord to a post, she double checks to make sure everything is secure before turning back to the victim.
“So sorry about the rude intrusion milady,” She bows again, in jest, “Have you contacted the police?”
“Yeah… what are you?”
“A Starling bird,” Starling spins, showing off her cape, the patterning placed to resemble wings, “I though the name would be a dead give away,”
“Yeah, but what are you? A Bat? Vigilante?”
“Vigilante yes, Bat not so much,” Starling can see as she looks more cautious after that, “Just happened to be passing through Gotham when I saw you in need of assistance,”
“Right... ok then...” She sits down, letting herself slump over the couch, “Ugh, this has been a terrible day,”
“How so?” Starling eyes up the kitchen, “Besides from mister bungee jump out there,”
“I was almost out of work this afternoon when a new rumour about the Wayne's blew up,” Starling nods along, turning the oven on and picking out ingredients.
“I work in the PR department at Wayne tower, do you have any idea how hard that is?!” Starling shakes her head finding a bowl but no measuring cups, she could just estimate.
“They have new bruises everyday,” Starling does look up to that, very concerned, “Don’t worry it’s not abuse or anything, they really are just dumbasses,”
Starling snickers a little bit at that, pouring in ingredients like second nature.
“I once asked mister Drake why he had a giant bruise on his forehead, he told me he passed out at his desk and just slammed into it!” Starling does laugh at that one, “Like?! How am I supposed to tell people that without sullying the Wayne name?”
“I think its funny,” She did clearly not agree, Starling changes the subject as she starts mixing “What was the problem today?”
“Nothin much really someone took pictures of mister Drake talking and giving a ride to some girl with black hair and blue eyes, and now everyone thinks she’s a Wayne,”
“That’s all it takes?” She starts placing the cookie dough on the baking tray, “Maybe I should apply?”
“Nah, you’d sooner be Batman's kid than Bruce Wayne's,” She cracks the first smile Starling has seen so far, “He’s got the same amount of kids, if not more,”
“Maybe they should share custody?” Starling puts the cookies in the oven, “Double the number each,”
“Yeah, how about no?” She smiles more, which is good, “I can’t imagine having to explain away the bruises the Bat kids get,”
Starling smiles, the sound of sirens now drawing close.
“I guess that's my cue to leave Milady,” Starling jumps up onto the window sill, the burglar still shouting below, “Take the cookies out in fifteen minutes,”
“Hey,” Starling looks back, “Thank you,”
“No problem,” Starling sends a dazzling smile, “Good night, Milady,”
--------------
Taglist (guess I’m doing these now, please let me know if theres any issues):
@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16 @caffeinetheory @g-arya @Maribat-2k20 @ladybug-182 @Actual-disaster-human @fusser90 @messrs-weasley @soap-lady @paintedhope7 @zeneralla @mochegato @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster @Purplegeekypanda
#miraculous#miraculous ladybug fic#miraculous ladybug#miraculous fanfic#miraculous marinette#mlb#ml fic#ml#bio dad bruce wayne#Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020#bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020#b!dbwm2020#biodad au#Marinette#badass marinette#maribat#marinette is mdc#salt#class salt#Lila salt#lila lies#fluff
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For the Spotify writing could you do 50 for Korra
ms. california - korra x reader
pairing: korra x reader (gender neutral)
wc: 1.8k
notes/warnings: nothing here folks :)
i love your voice but hate the way, you talk of her consistently
you heard the boats coming in before you saw them, you heard the cheers erupting from a small crowd that had formed around the south pole’s dock, all flocking to catch a glimpse of their avatar coming home. while everyone’s excitement stemmed from seeing what was essentially a hero, you were just excited to finally see your oldest friend whom you hadn’t seen since she had left to go back to republic city after spending time healing with master katara in the south pole.
excitement cursed through your veins at the prospect of seeing your best friend after years of being separated as you ran to mix in with the crowd of natives welcoming one of their own home.
your heart swelled once you finally spotted her, standing proudly at the front of the ship, her mother placed right next to her as they both waved at the crowd. you noticed her newly cut hair that you had only seen in recent varrick industries movers, it looked even better on her in person.
you pushed your way through the crowd, excusing yourself as you bumped into several people, most of them unphased as they kept their gaze on the master of all four elements. you didn’t stop moving until you found yourself next to tonraq, a man who had served as almost a second father to you ever since you were a toddler. your father being one of the water bending masters that kept an eye on korra growing up, meaning you grew up alongside her at the white lotus compound.
“hey y/n, excited?” the chief asked as soon as he noticed your presence next to him, keeping his eyes on his daughter that was fast approaching.
“yes sir.” cheers got louder as the boat finally stopped, chief tonraq invited you to join him as he walked towards the boat, the guards he had enlisted letting you pass in order to join him.
when your eyes met here as she started coming down, you felt a smile grow on your features as you watched her face mirror yours, two old friends finally reuniting.
unexpectedly, korra picked up the pace and wrapped you in a hug as soon as she got near you, taking you by surprise.
“i missed you.” she exclaimed as you were returning it, happy to once again be in her arms. her large coat was soft to the touch but she smelled rather foreign, most likely due to the fact that was living in a bustling city. the sound of her voice was something you didn’t expect to miss so much but now that you finally heard it for the first time in months, you didn’t want to ever go without it again.
“missed you too.” you squeeze her slightly before you two finally broke apart, grins still on your faces as you both eyes each other up and down in order to see if there were any noticeable changes in each other’s appearance.
a little later during the day, after following korra revisit her home town you ended up having dinner at her childhood home. swapping not only childhood stories but also catching up on the things you had missed and that’s when when you found out about her.
one question was asked and suddenly, that’s all korra could talk about, all of her recent experiences being completely thrown out the window to talk about things her girlfriend, asami, had been doing, how her company was doing, some new invention she had come up with in the later hours of the night, a funny thing she had said, everything that was coming out of the avatar’s mouth had something to do with her.
you tried your hardest to engage in the conversation, finding your heart melt at how she talked about asami with so much love and amazement. her eyes sparkled in a way you had never seen them and you felt your heart sting a bit knowing that she’d never talk about you that way, that her eyes would never lit up at the sheer mention of your name. after a couple of minutes of enduring it, you retracted to your own thoughts, letting tonraq and senna interact with their daughter.
but every time you say her name, it honestly kills me
to help digest your food, and because korra insisted she wanted to, you both went on a walk after you finished eating some delicious homemade noodles. the cold didn’t both you as much as you were bundled under your coat, happy to find that outside the sky was clear, no signs of a snow storm in sight.
“sorry, i talked a lot back there.” she immediately said once she stepped out of her home to join you, excusing herself for being the center of attention at her own celebratory dinner.
“you realise that you haven’t been home in ages, and you’re the avatar, you’re the only one with any real stories to tell.” you joked as you started leading her in a random direction, knowing the whole area like the back of your hand meant that no matter where you two went, you wouldn’t get lost.
“come on, life here isn’t that boring.” she laughed lightly at your comment, following you closely so she wouldn’t get lost.
“you’d be surpised.” she rolled her eyes, not believing for one second that her best friend who always loved to live life to the fullest was admitting to living such a monotonous one.
“my dad told me you started teaching people waterbending which means you’re a real master now, that’s cool!” she nudged you lightly, causing a small smile to tug at your lips at the compliment on the full mastering of your skill, something that you were incredibly proud of.
“yeah, it’s not what i plan to do forever but it’s fun.” you shrugged your shoulders slightly before you two fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound between you being the trudging of your boots in the snow and the usual night sounds.
“but i could totally beat your ass, water or all elements, you don’t stand a chance.” you spoke up defiantly while simultaneously holding a joking tone in your words making her stop in her tracks.
“is that so? i’d love to see it.” she placed her hands on her hips as her eyes jokingly narrowed in your direction, thankfully you were still close enough to people’s houses to have some light letting you see her hilarious facial expression that looked identical to the one she used to wear when she was younger.
“how about tomorrow? we can even invite your parents so they see how weak the avatar actually is.” you teased as you suddenly felt the snow beneath your feet shift, causing you to fall backwards. quickly reacting, you brought snow up around the both of your arms to propel yourself forward, directing the snow directly at your friend as soon as your feet were flat on the ground.
korra brought her arms up to stop the snow from hitting her before letting it go limp and drop the ground.
“damnit, i would’ve loved to catch you off guard.” she whined, finally walking up to you after having let you walk by yourself a short distance.
“korra, you called me a master not two seconds ago, did you not think i’d be able to react to that?”
“listen, i didn’t think this through.” she rose her hands up in defence as you laughed, shaking your head at how much your friend could be idiotic when she wanted to.
“no kidding.” your comment earned a gust of air being bent in your face, causing your hood to fly backwards and your face going cold.
you narrowed your eyes at her as she simply stuck her tongue out childishly, causing you to laugh at how immature she was.
“i sure hope your city friends also get to deal with this side of you, would be a shame if they didn’t.” you managed to say once your laughter died down, being met with playfully offended avatar with her arms crossed as she observed you laughing with a quirked eyebrow.
“actually, asami says i’m pretty mature.” she stated matter of factly and you felt your happiness falter slightly at the mention of her girlfriend, wishing you could just go back to five minutes ago when you weren’t reminded of the fact that korra was living a completely different life to yours, one that didn’t involve spending it with you but with some supposed beautiful and genius inventor.
she's your girl, she's in all your pictures. california girl, i wish i was her
the following day, after tiring each other out sparring, you both headed back to her house as she mentionned wanting to show you some pictures she had of her life in republic city. you had barely seen certain staples of it like air temple island and the aang statue inside of books but never anything more.
“this is the spirit portal in the middle of the city.” you had seen numerous times the southern portal but there was something about the new one that made it stand out, while trying to figure it out, you spotted her, tall, long black hair, looking adoringly at korra who was talking to some officiel and you knew right then and there that was asami.
as korra showed you pictures of the pro bending arena, more in depth ones of air temple island, the spirit vines and in practically all of them you could see her, her whole presence seemed elegant, you could tell why korra had fallen for her.
when you're gone, she sleeps in your t-shirts
“shit i forgot my shirt.” korra mumbled as she frantically searched through the bag for her night shirt as you watched her from the other side of the room.
“don’t you have some here?” you suggested, looking around her room to maybe see one laying around but you knew that senna kept the room nice and tidy while her daughter was away.
“probably, hopefully asami is making use of it.” korra shrugged her shoulders before abandoning her bag on the ground, making her way to her crate where she kept all of her older clothes, grabbing the first one that came in between her fingers before facing you again, excited to have a sleepover like you always used to have.
“yeah, hopefully.” you mumbled, staring at the small fire that korra had lit for extra warmth, wishing that maybe in another life you weren’t just korra’s childhood friend, maybe you two actually got together, maybe if you had followed her to republic city instead of staying home afraid of being reprimanded by your parents for disobeying orders, maybe everything would’ve been different.
it hurts, i wish i was her, ms california.
general taglist: @biqherosix @draqondance @butterfly-skinnylegend @alteasmoon @staygoldsquatchling02 @sunnypluto
lok only taglist: @welovediaaxx @firelady-jay @callmecopper
#korra x reader#atla x reader#avatar the last airbender imagine#lok x reader#avatar the last airbender x reader#krew x reader#korra#atla#lok#avatar x reader#avatar#korra lok x reader
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Alone Together
Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia
Pairing: Hawks/Todoroki Fuyumi
Genre: Time Travel, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Suggestive Themes
Synopsis: A Quirk accident prompts Fuyumi to travel back in time in various intervals, where she does her best to keep a low profile so as not to alter the future timeline.
Except Keigo catches feelings for her a year earlier than scheduled.
1 | ☆
Chapter One: A Fine Mess
Word Count: 5.2k
恋の予感 | こいのよかん | koi no yokan
premonition of love; the sense one can have upon first meeting another person that the two of them will inevitably fall in love.
At five in the morning, Hawks stirred in his sleep and shivered.
The air was frigid. He concluded the heater must have ceased functioning sometime in the middle of the night. If it didn’t, how else could he explain how frosty the temperature in his room was? He took a deep breath and exhaled through his mouth, rubbing a palm over his abdomen. It felt as if he was sleeping beside a block of ice. Groggily, he huddled further under his blanket and tried to fall back into slumber.
Five more minutes, he thought, and then, this early bird will catch the worm… no, the villains.
A shift on his bed followed by a yawn drew his attention. He froze. Eyes shut but conscious and alert, he spread out a number of his feathers and confirmed it: an intruder was on his bed.
Hawks opened his eyes and found a sight that made them go as wide as saucers. A scantily clad woman was curled up next to him, comfortably sleeping as if she was on her own bed. She mumbled something incoherently and embraced his torso, her hold loose but enough for him to feel the outline and curves of her body. A puff of breath from her parted lips tickled his bare chest. Her skin was as cold as ice, and for a second, he wondered if she was feeling unwell—until he came to his senses. He recounted the events of the previous night in search of any factor that could’ve led to this situation.
Hawks had gone through the daily grind of flying around and catching villains. It had been a busier day than usual. Exhausted after his final patrol, he opted to order take-out at a fast-food restaurant on his way home instead of dining in. He ate his dinner, freshened up, put a random pair of sweatpants on, and went to sleep. He failed to recall encountering her last night, and he was certain she wasn’t here when he plopped down on his bed.
Hawks had never met this woman before.
However, from what he was seeing, he slept beside this woman. He didn’t sleep with her, right? There was no way such a thing would slip his mind.
Was he going insane? Was he having his annual spring rut? Was he so sexually frustrated that he was having a realistic hallucination of a very attractive woman sleeping next to him?
“Good morning,” said a feminine voice, still husky from the early hour, near his ear.
Despite the silent questions he raised, the softness of the lips pressing on his cheek was real.
Very much so.
Languidly, the woman sat up, stretched her arms above her head, and let out a contented hum. She stepped out of the bed and left the room while combing her fingers through her snow-white hair, unperturbed.
Hawks, who was still dubious of the situation, left the bed and slipped on the first t-shirt he could lay his feathers on. He went after the woman and found her in the kitchen, browsing through the contents of the refrigerator with a frown.
She cocked her head to the side and scrunched her eyebrows. “Didn’t we go grocery shopping yesterday? Why is everything gone? Don’t tell me you got hungry in the middle of the night and ate it all.”
The two of them went grocery shopping? Yesterday?
Without waiting for his response, the woman grabbed two eggs from the shelf and closed the refrigerator. She set them aside and bent down to get a frying pan from the cabinet.
Hawks wondered how she knew where he kept his cookware, but before he could dwell on the thought, he found out it wasn’t all that she was cognizant of.
The woman knew how to operate the rice cooker and coffee maker easily and prepared breakfast with such familiarity that if he didn’t know better, he’d say it was her kitchen and not his.
All the while, he stood at the entrance, wary and ready to defend himself when she decided to strike—except she did nothing of the sort.
“By the way, have you seen my eyeglasses?” she asked, setting the plate of fried eggs on the table. “It wasn’t on the nightstand. I forgot where I put them.”
“Who are you?” Hawks finally uttered the question he was dying to find the answer to. He took a tentative step forward as a predator would when it stalked its prey. “How did you get in my place?”
She glanced at him but paid his threatening action no mind, filling two mugs with coffee. “Huh?”
“It’s a serious question, Miss,” he stated, his expression grave and stern. “Who are you?”
Silver eyes met his golden ones. For some inexplicable reason, he was taken aback, but before he could mull over the peculiar impression he sensed, the question that left her lips had alarm bells ringing in his head.
“What are you talking about, Keigo?”
Keigo.
She called him Keigo.
He launched one of his longer feathers to his palm and aligned it toward her neck as one would with a sword. The tip of the feather brushed a strand of her hair, from which he spotted distinctive crimson streaks from. It was a unique feature that would help confirm her identity if she refused to speak. “Are you a spy? Who sent you?”
Panicked, she shook her head and waved her hands in front of her in denial. “I’m not a spy! No one sent me!”
“How did you know that name?”
“Which name?”
“Stop pretending you don’t know what’s going on,” he snapped, glaring at her. “My real name. How did you know it?”
“You told me.”
His birth name was classified information. From the day he was instructed to live as Hawks, he had buried his past and told no one his real name. Nobody—save for his estranged parents, the Hero Public Safety Commission, and himself—should have been aware of it. Not even his sidekicks, nor his fans, and definitely not the woman standing in front of him. “You’re lying.”
“Keigo, are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?” The menacing stance he had did nothing to deter her. She stepped forward and touched his head in search of any injuries. When she found none, she retreated and put her hands behind her back. “If I remember correctly, we’ve been on a first-name basis since we met. Well, kind of.”
Why would he reveal his real name to someone he just met? He would never do that.
Was this woman a delusional fangirl of his? He had encountered a few cases of those, but none of them had gone as far as this woman. She wasn’t from around here, he noticed, as she wasn’t speaking in Hakata-ben. Regardless, this was a penthouse of an exclusive condominium in Kyushu. How was she able to get past the security?
“We’ve never met. I don’t know who you are,” he stated without room for argument. “Now, tell me how you got in, and I’ll turn you in to the police myself.”
She stared at his face quietly, deep in thought. After a long pause, an epiphany struck her, and she spoke in a hesitant tone, expecting the worst, “Sorry, but… could you, perhaps, tell me what year it is?”
“That’s an odd question, Miss. What year do you think it is?”
The response she gave him left him disconcerted. With an uncertain voice, she told him today's month and day correctly, but she added three years to the current year.
When he revealed she was wrong, she backed away and buried her face in her hands.
“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” she cried out with an apologetic bow, on the verge of bursting into tears. “We haven’t met yet, haven’t we? This must be so strange to you.”
“We’ve never met.”
“Yeah, not yet.” She paced back and forth and turned to him. “Do you mind if I look around for a bit? I just want to confirm it.”
He didn’t rule out the possibility she was unhinged, but he wanted to know what her deal was before handing her over to the authorities. Humoring her, he let go and returned his large feather to his wings, relenting. “Fine.”
In case she had any funny business up her sleeve, he followed her. A few of his feathers hovered around her as a safety precaution, too. Yet as he observed her, he had to ask himself: how come she was able to roam around his place like she owned it?
Similar to the way she acted in the kitchen, she barged inside his walk-in closet effortlessly. Stumbling upon rows and rows of men’s clothing, she mumbled, “My clothes…”
She peeked inside the bathroom and found a lone toothbrush on the sink and men’s products everywhere. “My toiletries…”
In front of an empty space in the living room, she stared and murmured, “My books…”
“None of my belongings are here.” She shook her head with a sigh, momentarily forgetting she had company as she glanced at the calendar on the wall. “I really am in the past.”
Keigo placed a hand on her shoulder, rousing her from her reverie. “Care to explain?”
The sound of her stomach grumbling interrupted her before she could speak. She covered her midriff in embarrassment, the skimpy nightgown she had on drawing his attention again. “Sorry.”
Keigo sighed. From a logical point of view, the current evidence indicated this woman as a threat. However, his feathers tingled in a different way than they would when they sensed danger was in the midst. He had gathered from her whispers that she believed she was from the future. Something strange was going on, and he would get to the bottom of it.
With a few small feathers, he grabbed a hoodie from his closet and offered it to her. “You can wear this.”
“Oh, thank you.” She slipped the hoodie on and awkwardly continued, “It’s cold, isn’t it? Not that I’m bothered or anything, though. I actually don’t mind the cold much, don’t worry! Haha…”
That’s not it, he thought but didn’t bother saying aloud. She already cooked breakfast, might as well let her eat it.
“You can enlighten me of the situation while you eat,” Keigo decided, leading her to the dining area. He pulled a chair out and instructed, “Sit down.”
She followed him wordlessly and watched as he set the table, brought the cooked rice, and sat in front of her. Upon noticing he wasn’t making any move to grab a serving, she spoke, “Aren’t you going to eat? I didn’t put anything weird in there, I promise.”
Keigo had witnessed her prepare them earlier. He didn’t see or smell anything weird in the food either.
She sensed his reluctance and lifted the chopsticks between her fingers. As proof of her innocence, she took a bite of the fried egg and swallowed. “See? It’s fine.”
Keigo acquiesced, putting a portion of rice and egg in his bowl.
“Thank you for the food,” they said in unison.
He took a much-needed sip of coffee and began with his inquiry, “Think you can tell me what’s up now, Miss?”
“Yesterday afternoon, a young girl’s Quirk went out of control and hit me. Nothing happened, but my companion and I went to the hospital to be sure. The doctors said it was a mutation type of Quirk, but they couldn’t confirm anything since the girl’s exact power was unknown.”
That companion was supposedly him. “And then?”
“Since nothing was wrong with me, they sent us home. We went to this penthouse, ate dinner, and slept. But when I woke up, I’m… here. In the past,” she told him. “One of the doctors did advise us to wait for twenty-four hours, so maybe, that’s my time limit.”
“You’re sure this is the past? Not an alternate universe?”
“I think so.”
“How are you going to come back to your own time?”
“I don’t know.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth? Why should I believe you?”
“I…” Contemplative, she paused before offering a suggestion. “I’d like to wait for twenty-four hours, at least.”
“And if nothing happens?”
“I’ll turn myself in to the authorities if you’ll insist, but I hope you’ll at least let me call someone for help.”
“Let me guess. A colleague? Perhaps, a fellow villain?”
“No, I’m not a villain. My—” she broke off mid-sentence again, carefully choosing her words, “—a family member would know what to do, I think.”
“How suspicious.”
“Look, I know twenty-four hours is a lot to ask, especially from the Number T...hree Hero, but I’m also confused right now. If I’m being honest, I’d like to go back to where I came from right at this moment,” she confessed. “I hope you can bear with me for a while. It will really help me. Please.”
Keigo felt the accusation he was about to utter stuck in his throat. Sincerity and anxiety radiated from her words. His instincts told him it was an honest appeal for his assistance. While he was still unsure, he was a Hero, and the woman in front of him, a suspected villain or not, was asking him for help. He couldn’t ignore it.
He grabbed his phone with a stray feather and dialed his secretary’s number. “Hello, good morning. It’s Hawks. I won’t be coming in today. It’s an emergency situation, and I’ll be on surveillance duty.”
“Roger, Sir. I’ll let your sidekicks know.”
“By the way, don’t ask why, but can you send a set of women’s clothes to my place? Toiletries, as well. Thanks! Bye-bye!”
“Thank you,” the woman told him as he ended the call. This time, she was unable to hold back her tears, and she wiped them immediately with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Thank you so much. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience, Keigo—I mean, Hawks!”
Silence reigned during the rest of the breakfast. It wasn’t the awkward nor the comfortable type. She was engrossed in her thoughts while he was on high alert. After they finished eating, she volunteered to do the dishes, and he allowed her to, knowing she needed a moment alone to collect herself. He stayed at a considerable distance in the living room instead, aware she finished the task without any issues.
Keigo looked up from the YAP! News article on his phone and observed as the woman plopped down on the other side of the sofa and grabbed the remote control on the coffee table.
As if she felt his sharp gaze on her, she turned her face to his direction, and realization dawned on her.
“Whoops, sorry! I just…” she blurted out, embarrassed at the faux pas she committed. “Nevermind. Do you mind if I watch TV?”
“It’s fine.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled, redirecting her eyes to the television. She flipped the channels to find something appealing to watch and came upon an animated magical girl franchise. “Oh, PreCure!”
“I see,” he noted, caught off guard she chose that show over the morning news on one channel and a rerun of a documentary about the most recent Hero Billboard Chart JP on another. “You’re into these kinds of shows?”
“I happen to know a lot of kids. They love this show,” she replied, heat creeping up her cheeks. “Besides, there’s no such thing as being too old to watch anime.”
“Yeah.” An amused smile crept upon his lips. “You’re right about that, Miss.”
She would squint her eyes from time to time throughout the episode. In addition, since she had been looking for her eyeglasses earlier, he deduced she had poor eyesight. Keigo thought she might get a headache later on if she continued watching television like that. That would be bad, wouldn’t it?
It turned out, he had no need to fret about such a thing from happening. A couple of hours later, she ended up dozing off. He stood, turned the television’s volume down, and fixed her position in a way she could lay down and sleep properly.
How could she let her guard down like that? he asked himself, covering her with a blanket. She seems fatigued, though.
Unable to figure her out, he took a seat on the solo sofa and let her be, still on surveillance duty.
While she didn’t mention anything about being unwell, she was exhausted—that much was obvious. It was only at lunchtime when she awoke from her nap, the sound of the doorbell serving as her alarm clock. Behind the door, the pizza delivery man stood with Keigo’s order in his hands. Keigo settled the payment and brought the box to the living room. He set the box on the table and untied the string on top of it.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m okay.”
“Are you feeling sick or anything?”
“No, just tired.” She shut her eyes and massaged her fingers over her temple. “It must be a side effect of the girl’s Quirk. I’m not usually like this.”
He didn’t know this woman, but he knew how being sick without medicine felt: miserable. “Tell me if you need anything. I’ll get it.”
Her eyes fluttered open drowsily. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you want to freshen up after you eat?” He handed her a sealed paper bag through a feather on its handle. “The clothing and toiletries I asked for earlier arrived while you were sleeping.”
“I will.” She waited for him to release the paper bag with her palms wide open. When he did, she caught it and put it on her lap. “Thanks.”
Keigo decided to take his turn in using the bathroom after she did.
As soon as he stepped inside and shut the door, he was surrounded by her presence. Droplets of water trickled from the tiled walls to the floor. The delicate scent of floral shampoo and the fragrance of milk and honey body wash clung in the air; soft and sweet. No part of his house had smelled like that before. Another crack made its way through his composure. He was unused to having people over at his place. No, scratch that, he never had people over. Given who he was, he had a lot to protect, and to accomplish that, he must keep his secrets. It was a dangerous line she crossed easily. He found the experience daunting.
As quickly as he could, he finished showering, got dressed, and returned to the living room, where he was able to sense her presence.
She sat in the same area she occupied earlier, flipping through a random magazine she found on the coffee table. The cream-colored turtleneck shirt and acid wash jeans she was wearing clung to her body in all the right places. Upon seeing him, she looked up from the pages and shut the magazine. “Hawks?”
“Y-Yes?” He cleared his throat. “What is it?”
“You’re twenty-two years old at the moment, right?”
“Yeah.”
She chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m still older than you.”
“Is that so?” he asked, unsure of how to respond to her statement. “Are you also older than me where you came from?”
“That’s right.” She returned the magazine to the table and stood. “By the way, do you mind if I wash my clothes?”
“Go ahead.”
“Thank you.”
She gave him a smile and left.
Dumbfounded by their bizarre exchange, Keigo stared at her retreating form and frowned.
She didn’t even ask him where the washing machine was.
The woman stood by the glass walls, the pad of her fingertips touching the surface as she stared at the carmine and amber hues of the setting sun.
Keigo made his way next to her and observed the view closely. The scenery was breathtaking from this altitude. He couldn’t blame her for being enamored by it. It was one of the reasons he picked this penthouse. The sky was fascinating, no matter the weather or the time of the day it was.
“Are you curious?” she asked out of the blue, her gaze still on the horizon.
“About what?”
“The future.”
“Well, I don’t really know if you’re from the future or not,” he admitted, an absurd idea popping inside his mind. “How about you tell me something that will happen a week or so from now?”
“Like a major event?”
“Something like that,” he said, although he speculated a definite answer from her would be unlikely. “Anything will do.”
“Okay, that would be an effective way to check.” The woman nodded. “If what I’m about to tell you happens, will you believe me, then?”
“It depends.” He turned to look at her. Her casual agreement caught him by mild surprise, his curiosity multiplying as the seconds ticked by. “But let’s say you do disappear and come back to wherever you came from after twenty-four hours. At that point, it wouldn’t matter, wouldn’t it?”
“It would. At least, to me, it would,” she stated, meeting his gaze. “I’ve got nothing to lose by telling you, but you have to promise not to meddle. If this is the past, the future timeline shouldn’t be altered.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed with a lighthearted laugh. “Sounds like a plot of a movie.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” She gave him a smile and fiddled with her fingers. The shift in the mood was palpable as she began, “A few days after the term at U.A. High School begins, a class will be attacked by a group of villains.”
“U.A.’s security system is top-notch, though,” he pointed out, not bothering to conceal his doubt. “I don’t see anything like that happening.”
“Everyone thought so, too.” Amused, she added, “Knowing you, by now, you’re already aware that All Might is going to be a teacher at U.A., aren’t you?”
“How did you—”
“I just do, okay?” She clasped her hands behind her back and leaned in. “Remember, you promised not to meddle.”
“Fine,” he agreed. “But if it does happen, who knows? You might have known of it because you’re a member of that ‘group of villains’ yourself.”
“I’m not! I’m not a member of that group of villains.” A chuckle fell past her lips, one tinged with amusement and melancholy. “That’s… not me.”
She returned her gaze to the scenery of Kyushu, and it gave Keigo a good view of her shoulder-length hair. The crimson streaks in it stood out against its dominant white color. When he thought about it, he couldn’t help but compare it to the color of his feathers. They were so alike that a smaller feather of his would blend in with them perfectly. He chided himself for thinking that way.
And so, instead, Keigo debated whether the crimson streaks in her hair were natural or otherwise.
The late-night news was on in the background as the two of them partook in their share of fast-food chicken meals. It was from the same restaurant Keigo visited last night except, this time, he ordered them online and waited for them to arrive after twenty minutes.
“I wish you didn’t have to have meals delivered all the time,” the woman lamented and took a sip of soda. “Eat healthier when you can, okay?”
“Aww, are you concerned about me?” he asked half-jokingly, setting the empty cardboard packaging aside.
“Of course.”
Keigo was quiet at that, once again blindsided by her candidness. He had only met this woman today, yet she cared enough about him to trouble herself about his diet.
“Hawks,” she spoke, her voice gentle and hesitant, but of what, he didn’t know. “Are you doing okay right now?”
“Just peachy,” he answered promptly like he always did, pushing those strange thoughts aside. “Why would you ask me that?”
A long pause passed before she opened her mouth to respond. “You told me there were times you thought of the HPSC as a birdcage—sometimes, a shackle. Even if I know better, meeting you in this time of your life worries me.”
By then, the sound coming from the television was nothing but white noise. Everything she uttered was the truth. Those were sentiments he had hidden deep inside him and swore to keep to himself. This woman knew about them, though—she knew him well. He found no rational explanation for the way she was aware of specific matters he dared not to speak about. How else would she know them if he didn’t tell her? Maybe, not now, but in the future.
At that point, he started to truly believe her. One thing, however, kept creeping inside his mind once he came to terms with it. He stared at her intently, trying to unravel the mystery that came in the form of this woman. “Who are you in my life?”
“Uh, I am…” She averted her gaze, a blush forming on her cheeks. “That would be a spoiler, wouldn’t it?”
“I want to know.” Keigo was a sharp man. He already had an inkling of who she would be for him in the future, but he wanted the confirmation to come from her lips. “Tell me.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of a bell, similar to that of a cat’s, rang three times, diverting their attention.
The next thing he knew, the woman in front of him had vanished into thin air.
Keigo searched the entire penthouse but found her nowhere. He considered the possibility she had been a figment of his imagination, but he ultimately believed she wasn’t.
The cardboard container of her meal remained on the coffee table, in front of the seat she took earlier. The wooden chopsticks laid on top of a folded sheet of tissue paper, their tips dampened and darkened by the savory sauce of the chicken she ate and said was delicious. Inside his bathroom, the toiletries she used were arranged neatly on the corner of the sink.
The white cotton nightdress, as well as the hoodie she borrowed, hung on the metal clothing rack in the washing area, fresh with the detergent he liked best. A matching pair of underwear with a dainty ribbon—lingerie, to be specific—dangled beside them, mocking him for having thoughts he shouldn’t have had. He laughed them off as best as he could but didn’t know what to do with them. In the end, he decided to put them inside the unused drawer in his walk-in closet.
She might have disappeared, but she didn’t do it without a trace.
He checked his wristwatch and saw it was past midnight. If her assumptions and calculations were correct, it meant she had arrived on his bed last night around this time. He wondered if she made it to the future safely.
He hoped so.
Hawks kept his feathers vigilant for any clues regarding the supposed surprise attack at U.A. High School. The mysterious woman would appear in his mind frequently because of the information she had given him concerning the near future. It piqued his interest because he found nothing about it. He couldn’t meddle at all even if he knew, which he could imagine, for her, was a good thing.
To his credit, he got the wind of the news before the press did. Class 1-A was attacked by a group called the League of Villains during an on-campus activity in the Unforeseen Simulation Joint training facility. People dubbed it as the U.S.J. Incident. The League of Villains aimed to put an end to All Might but failed in the end. Their leader, however, had gotten away. Hawks couldn’t help but consider what kind of trouble they would stir up in the future. He had to investigate further.
On the flip side, it further proved that the woman he encountered in his home was telling the truth. She was from the future. He opened the door to his penthouse and made his way to his bedroom, remembering her again. In retrospect, they had gotten themselves into quite a mess during the day she appeared.
Not that he’d see her anytime soon, or so he thought.
It was a faint sound, but nevertheless, a familiar one. An invisible bell rang three times, and a feminine voice spoke beside him, causing him to stop in his tracks in wonder.
“Do you believe me now?” the woman asked, her head tilting to the side. Her doe eyes, framed with eyeglasses this time, twinkled with hopefulness.
“You’re here,” he blurted out, “again.”
“Yeah.” She leaned backward and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I have twenty-three hours this time.”
“One hour less than last time,” he pointed out. “But how did you know?”
“We had time to visit the doctor again. The young girl has a Quirk that sends people back in time. Time Quirks are rare, so existing studies about them are insufficient to undo the whole thing. I can’t elaborate too much on the details, but there’s nothing I can do but go through the whole time travel duration. After this, there will be twenty-two more instances when I will appear somewhere near you at a random moment, each time lessened by an hour.”
“For how long?”
“A year, more or less.”
“But out of all the places you could appear in, why does it happen where I am?” he asked, meticulously processing the information she had given him. “Not that I’m complaining or anything. I’m just curious.”
“I…” she paused, contemplating whether or not to tell him, “because you were the one closest to me when I was struck by the girl’s Quirk.”
“How close?”
“We were standing next to each other.”
“And?”
“We were… holding each other’s hand.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “So, we really do have that kind of relationship, huh?”
She rolled her eyes and averted her gaze, folding her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not going to answer that.”
Despite her dismissal, the pink tinge of her cheeks betrayed her composure. It was all the answer he needed to his question.
They were together. Three years in the future, the two of them were in a relationship. How did such a thing happen?
Time would tell. For now, a cordial smile tugged at his lips, knowing exactly where to begin. “What’s your name?”
“If I tell you,” she said hesitantly, “will you promise not to look for me?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to change the present—I mean, my present—where I’m from. The future, if you will, in your case.”
“Okay, then.” Keigo nodded. It was a reasonable condition, after all. “I promise.”
“Great.” She grinned, relieved he gave her his word. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Fuyumi.”
Notes: The three-year difference in their timelines and the sound of a bell ringing was inspired by Kimi no Na wa, one of my favorite movies.
I was actually working on a fic for another ship, but I thought of Huwumi again and ended up writing this instead.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading! ❄️
Alone Together
BNHA Masterlist | Main Masterlist
#boku no hero academia#bnha#huwumi#fuyuhawks#my hero academia#mha#hawks#takami keigo#bnha hawks#mha hawks#keigo takami#todoroki fuyumi#fuyumi todoroki#bnha fuyumi#mha fuyumi#bnha fanfiction#bnha fanfic#bnha fic#mha fanfiction#mha fanfic#mha fic#hawks x fuyumi#fuyumi x hawks#takami keigo x todoroki fuyumi#todoroki fuyumi x takami keigo
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Red, Dead, Reflections Ch. 1
A/N: Alright so... I started writing this fic over a year ago, and was posting it as I wrote it. I fell out of it for a few reasons but I’ve missed it. So I decided to start writing it again. The original versions of the first 5 chapters already exist on my blog but I want to repost them and do some editing. This way I can make the series more polished. I also want to try and do a once a week maybe schedule to give me some time in between writing chapters and so I can take some feedback into consideration.I hope some of the people who originally wanted to keep up with my series see this and I want to apologize for falling back on this. I feel really bad about it. I’ll try harder to commit to this. Thank you so much for being interested in my work. If anyone would like to be tagged just let me know, I don’t wanna assume the people who did before want to now.
Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous and seemingly impossible position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (sorta) choose your own adventure.
Warnings: Explicit language, blood, death, violence
Word count: 5,988
From Out West
“This is a little too ballsy for my liking, Austin.” You warned as you carefully adjusted the colored contact lenses in your eyes.
“Since when did you turn into a little pussy-willow?” He smirked at you while he turned a corner.
“This is a bank, not a home robbery, so forgive me if I’m a tad nervous about this! We’re robbing a god damn bank in the 21st century, in a busy city that we aren’t necessarily familiar with!”
“Maybe you aren’t familiar, you know I’m a regular ol’LA boy.” You turned your head to look at the two in the backseat.
“Miguel, you can’t seriously be okay with this.” You questioned but were confident in it enough to make it a statement. He shrugged his shoulders, making that confidence literally evaporate.
“We gotta trust Austin, as crazy as this plan is. We haven’t gotten caught yet.” You crossed you arms and made sure your wig was pinned right.
“Doesn’t mean we won’t be startin’ now.” You grumbled.
“Come on, sissy! This plan is fool-proof! They’ll never even know it was us!” Eli chirped.
“Oh yeah, except for the fact that this is a fucking bank and the FBI CAN get on our asses for this!” You swore it was exhausting being the only realistic one sometimes. “On top of that, there’s only 5 of us! We’re insane!”
“6.” Austin corrected.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your girlfriend won’t be in the damn room with us.”
“She’s the ace up our sleeves, it would be silly for her to be in there with us.” The car smelled like old cigarettes, it made you sick. The band around your chest dug into your ribs. You opted to stay silent and relent for the time being, instead focusing on your disguise. The wig was carefully pinned to your real hair, it was short enough to be confused for a men’s haircut but had enough length to not require any glue. Dark brown hair, abnormally vibrant green eyes. And with the mask covering your face, that would be their only descriptions they could give to the police. Flat chest, boyish haircut, baggy black hoodie, just your average deviant. The destination was in view.
“Alright,” Austin started. “everyone knows the plan, yeah? Gina is inside, she’ll send us the signal. We go in quick and make our presence known. I go behind the counter to make sure the tellers ain’t up to no funny shit. Miguel, you round up the lovely citizens into a corner, hit Gina a little to make it convincing. Eli, you take care of the money. And Y/N, I need you to stay in character, be loud and intimidating, keep the tellers in check when I’m helpin’ Eli, and the civils with Miguel, got it?” You all nodded. He looked back at Miguel. “You got the fake bomb ready?”
“Yes’ir.”
“I’ll pass the big boss to you once I pick him out. Zoe is waiting for us in the alleyway between the bank and the office building. We get in, make some noise, scare them shitless, get the money, and go.” He parked up front of the white walls, you saw a mother walk through the glass doors with her toddler in a stroller. You immediately felt bad.
“You promise this is the last job, right?” You looked at him seriously. “At least the last of something this big, I don’t think I could handle with again.”
“Of course! This is just to get us enough money to get us all out. The economy is garbage, think of it as taking what should already be ours.” You heard the crackle of the walkie on Austin’s lap. He threw it into his bag. “That’s the signal, masks on everyone.” Austin’s was a fox, long, fake salt and pepper hair rolled form under his hood. Eli’s was a raccoon, convincing copper bangs swooped between the ears. Miguel had an owl; disturbing blue eyes pierced your being. You strapped on your black dove and joined with group as they exited the stolen vehicle. You kept both your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie, trying to be discrete about the two handguns inside. Only one was loaded with real bullets, that was the backup, You preferred to use the blanks. Unable to trace, and when used properly, won’t hurt anyone. Austin and Eli took the leads.
The doors were kicked in.
“EVERYONE GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND RIGHT NOW! HANDS UP, ALL YOU! THIS IS A ROBBERY!” He screamed, pointing his gun at a man behind the counter about 3 yards away. Miguel was quick to shout at the people in line to get into the corner of the room. Gina pretended to try and defy, he slaps her, needless to say it’s convincing.
“Dove, handle the worms.” You traded spots as Austin grabbed one of the men behind the counter. Your eyes locked with the poor woman, she was covering the stroller with her torso. You pointed your blank gun at some random person.
“Stay on the ground or I’ll fucking shoot, ya hear me?” You lowered your voice, made it coarser, time to be a ‘man’. They nodded hysterically. The woman was crying. You could hear Eli screaming his demands in a fake accent. “Everyone hand over your phones. If any of you give me a reason to even SUSPECT you’re up to anything, I will shoot.” Everyone put their phones on the ground and slid them over toward you. You turned your attention to the back. “What’s the hold up, owl?”
“I’m handling it.” He strapped the fake bomb to the teller’s chest, making him kneel down in the middle of the bank. “Listen up, everyone! This man has a bomb attached to his body. We have someone hacked into the security cameras. If you don’t follow our instructions to the T, they will blow a hole in this lot.” He paused to let the cries and gasps die out. “Now, for those said instructions, listen close. We will exit the building soon, you will stay down for 5 minutes.” He pointed at a clock on the wall. “Do not touch anything or move a muscle. When 5 minutes have passed, the big guy here-“ He patted the man’s shoulders and dropped a key wrapped in tissue in his lap. “will take a little drive off the premises. He will keep going until he reaches the designated location written on that tissue. If any of you contact the police before the end of the day, he will die, along with any other drivers in his vicinity. So, unless you want a substantial amount of blood on your hands, I’d suggest you keep quiet until midnight. As for the rest of you, you have permission to leave the building once that 5 minutes are up. But I would suggest keeping a low profile, for your safety and others’.” There was a loud crack.
“I got it!” The phony Australian accent rang. Austin led the rest of the bank tellers to you, making them sit in the flood of civils.
“Staying alert, Dove?”
“Don’t patronize me, stupid Fox.” This whole situation pissed you off. The baby was crying, mom was too, trying to hush the whines.
“Fire a shot, Dove!” What? “Don’t let their insubordination stand.” He demanded. This was a fear tactic. He was trying to teach a lesson to the others.
“I’m not firing a warning shot over a fucking baby, you psycho!” Your blood was boiling, this was overkill, he was way out of line with this. Of course, he wasn’t telling you to shoot the baby or the mother, but you weren’t going to cause more grief where it didn’t need to be.
“Take the shot!”
“Fuck you!”
“Why are you going against me?” Was he seriously doing this now? You felt like your head was going to explode. She was the only person with a child present. You put both of your pieces back in your hoodie and knelt next to her. She flinched as you approached, but that was to be expected.
“Ma’am, I’m making an exception for you because you have a child with you, and that prick is really getting on my last nerve. You’re allowed to exit the building now, but the other rules still apply. People will die if you talk, maybe not you, but other people who have children like you do, most certainly. Take your kid and get out, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and get out.” Her red eyes shook you to your core, familiarity. She nodded in both fear and appreciation.
“Than-than-thank y-“ She was choking on her own misfortune, you decided to spare her.
“Yeah, yeah, just get out.” She got up and collected herself, checking around the room as she walked out of the building. You could only see his eyes, but you could tell Austin was reaching his limit fast. An older gentleman stared at you.
“At least one of you has a heart.” You were glad Austin was too focused on being pissed to hear that. You got up, kicking the phones toward the door as you walked. Austin grabbed you arm.
“You’re lucky I didn’t kill her for that.” By letting that woman go, you showed weakness. It was a hint at your identities, but you didn’t care.
“And you’re lucky I’m not shooting you for saying that. I’m not a killer like you, Fox.” Your voice was laced with venom. Eli had interrupted your dispute.
“Alright lovebirds, time to play nice, we’ve got precious cargo.” He gave both of you a duffle bag, they were pretty hefty. Austin took a deep breath, putting on his best showman voice.
“Alright folks! That right there is our cue to hit the road. Remember, 5 minutes on the clock. No one likes a-“ The doors were filled with red and blue, sirens. The police were here. “Shit!” Shit was right. “How the hell are they here?” Austin screamed. He gave you a shove. “It’s probably because of that god damn woman!”
“There’s no way she would’ve had enough time for that.”
“And no one had a phone out, I was watching the whole time.” Miguel chimed.
“We have bigger fish to fry right now! We gotta go.” You all dashed over to the back door, all you had to do was move towards the alley, if you could just get to the dump van, everything would be fine. Drive up to get the real car, leave that one with no prints or hair, and you’d be home free. The 4 of you booked it out the door. But the van was no where to be seen, instead, there were about 3 cops on either side which was 6 in total, trapping you in.
“They must’ve got Zoe!” Yeah, no shit.
“Put your hands up!” You all raised your arms, except of course for Austin. You kicked his calf. He didn’t budge. “I said put your god damn hands up!”
“In case you didn’t notice, pal, there’s a bomb in that building. If you don’t let us pass, I’ll blow that building out of existence, along with the man attached to it.” He pointed his gun to one of the cops to your left. “So, I suggest you let us through, or else you’re gonna piss me off more than I already am.”
“We know the bomb is fake, drop to your knees or we will shoot!” Another one barked. Someone had ratted you out. You looked at Miguel and Eli, you weren’t letting this go down, not by a long shot. You tuned out Austin’s ramblings and whispered to the other two.
“Be ready to run. I’m gonna buy you guys some time. Don’t kill any of them, disarm them.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?” Miguel questioned with panic. You took a deep breath.
“Thank you for being my family.” You swept your leg behind Austin’s knees, and he collapsed to the ground as you stood.
The world slowed to a crawl, pulling a gun out of your pocket, these were real bullets. You’ve never missed a target. You drew the attention of all 6 police officers, but no amount of training could prepare them. You fired 3 shots, each one hitting the hands of the officers Austin had been talking to. Their weapons fell from their hands. You felt bodies push past your legs, down the alley way away from the bank. You were glad the streets of LA were confusing. Now was the time. You whipped your body around to face the rest of the officers, firing rapidly at their shins. You weren’t gonna put blood on your hands.
But deep down you knew, there was no making out of this one. You would buy them a few minutes while trying to subdue you. Just as your haphazard shots began, they fired precise ones of their own. Two passed through your skull, three in your chest, and one got a through almost half of your jugular. Both pieces fell away from you as gravity swaddled you. Bits of your wooden mask, blood, head pushing back unnaturally, seeing the backs of your made family run, they were almost home free. There was no pain after that point, you waited patiently for your back to hit the ground beneath you, but it never did. You kept falling.
And falling.
The midday light felt like it was slipping away, there were leather walls encompassing your lifeless form. No sound, no sense of texture, just the smell of dirt and decay. Then there was nothing but darkness, but that void that beckoned you, that pulled at your very being, was gone just as quick as it appeared.
Your body shot forward with a violent intake for air. The gasps filled your lungs to the brim, your chest and head ached, throat tight. The coughing erupted from deep in your chest, which also held a different pain from the ever-tightening band around it. You threw you hoodie away and made quick work of loosening it just a bit, and in doing so noticed that your body was free of any physical wounds. There was still a soreness, and blood wiped off your skin, but there were no open wounds. You were incredibly cold, and at first you assumed that to be attributed to your near-death experience, until you looked up high to see to see an open window with snow falling outside.
“I don’t think we’re in California anymore.” You muttered to yourself. You shivered, the place was covered in hay and in low light, that’s when the smell hit you. It reeked of animals, that would probably have something to do with the fact that you’re in a barn. Shakily, you got to your feet. Knees wobbling, your eyes adjusted, there were horses. That certainly explained the stench. A chill ran up your spine, the cold tickling at your vertebrae. You scanned the room for where you had tossed your hoodie, only to find it in a horse’s mouth. Your eyes widened in fear. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” You exclaimed. You rushed forward and grasped at the hanging sleeve, tugging on it with all your strength. “Drop it! Drop it right now!”
The horse did not listen, in fact, now it seemed more hellbent on consuming the thick material. After hurtling a few curses at the horse, you heard a distinct rip. You fell back, the remnants of black cloth now in tatters. You let out a muffled scream of frustration. Even with the long sleeves of your cotton shirt, you were still freezing. It suddenly struck you how odd it is for it to be snowing at all. You figured you weren’t in California anymore, but you were somewhere that snows in the middle of May? How far were you? You couldn’t think of any states that snowed this late in the year. Were you in Maine? Up north, Canada? How did you even get here?
“Did those idiots come back to get me? I could’ve sworn…” You could’ve sworn they ran like you told them to, and that you had experienced several fatal injuries. Is this hell? Purgatory? The other side? It was cold enough to be Hell that’s for sure. Nothing made sense. You found your mask on the ground, chunks of the painted wood were replaced with vacant space, splintered bullet holes. You fastened it to the first belt loop, it rested against your left pant leg. Pins dug into your scalp, wigs still surprisingly attached to your head. Your eyes watered, your contacts were drying out. You opted take them out now rather than waste your time trying to find drops in a barn. You flicked them away once they were out. “Now, if there’s a barn with animals, there’s gotta be a house with people.” You walked over to the large wooden doors as your talked to yourself, but today just had to be the worst day of your life. Something landed on top of you, or more accurately someone.
You were surprised you didn’t feel any cracks as the weight crashed on you. Shifting your weight over, you elbowed the man in the jaw. He rolled off of you with a grunt of pain. You were quick to jab him in the stomach with the toe of your boot. Sputtering a cough with saliva dripping out the mouth, the man rushed to stand. He was trying to fight.
“You’re on the wrong side of the mountains, partn’r.” He slurred. “This here is O’Driscoll territory, Which you don’t got no business bein’ in.” I’m in the mountains? Where the hell- He didn’t give you enough time to finish that thought before he was throwing a punch at you. If this basic boy thinks he can step in my personal space, he’s got another thing coming. You blocked the fist with your forearm and redirected the force toward the ground. With the base of your wrist, you hit his throat. The force of your own strength and the ever so impeccable sense of gravity caused him to wheeze, choke, and writhe on the ground.
“Listen here, buddy,” you pressed your boot down on his chest “I have no idea where the hell I am right now. I don’t give a single shit about territory or whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but if you put your hands on me again, I’m gonna mangle your entire lower half with a rake.” You applied more weight. “I didn’t come here of my own volition, someone put me here. Which means, you’re little punk ass better tell me what’s going on or get out of my way so I can-“ Gunshots. Mystery man took your distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out form under you. They were ceaseless, did someone drop you off in the middle of a gang war, what the hell is going on? You were about to duck behind whatever cover was around you if the idiot of the room had decided he didn’t learn his lesson.
“Are you with those crazies?” He yelled, peeking out the barn doors for only a second. “I should’ve known.” His voice was cold and malicious. “You’re with that son of a bitch, Dutch!”
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, pretty boy, they must’ve sent you up to spy on us! I’m gonna kill you for-“
“I literally have no idea what’s going on!” But he wasn’t listening to reason, clocked you in the ribs before you got the chance to block, then using your surprise to his advantage, hit you on the nose. There was a familiar crack and blood rush. “Did you just fucking break my nose, you ass?” You screeched toward the ground, wiping away the blood.
You took him off guard by doing that, so you were quick to knock him in the jaw. The shooting stopped but you were a little preoccupied and decided not to waste anymore time. His arm bent to caress the side of his face. You rushed forward, lacing your arm between the gap his made. Using all your weight, you swung your legs out and forced him to drop to the ground. His back slammed forcefully and with a swift adjustment, your shins trapped his neck, locking him in place. You squeezed his neck enough to make him gasp. He tried to push away from you, but with the position you left him in, there’s no way he’d be able to without some sort of outside assistance.
“Who are you calling pretty boy now? Huh? Who, bitch boy?” You heard the door start to open, you let lose and pulled the man up to shield you, locking his head so that you peek between a gap in your arm and his head. A man wearing a blue coat and hat walked in, his hands resting on his belt.
“Well, well, what have we got ourselves here?” You couldn’t quite place his accent. You noticed he had a holster.
“Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’ve got your friend trapped between me and you. No need to make this get crazy.” You warned, tightening your grip to enunciate your point. What sounded almost like a chuckle escaped his throat.
“You must not be an O’Driscoll if you think he’s my friend.” You panicked, you tried to think of your next move, but he had plans of his own. “What’s your name, son?” Your suspicions were correct, it seems. This isn’t the first time someone’s confused you for a man, especially when you were trying so hard to not look like yourself. But maybe, you could use this to your advantage.
“James West.” That was Austin’s code name for danger. If someone introduced you or called any of you James, it meant they weren’t trust worthy. You and Gina would usually use Jamie, but now James felt like the safer option.
“Now how in the hell did you get involved in this, West?” He rested his hip against one of the stable posts.
“I have no idea.” You threw the man away from you, there was no point holding him anymore. “I woke up here, and this guy just started attacking me.” You thought for a moment. “Are you Dutch?” You asked. This time, it was a single, hearty-
“HA!” He had a spark in his eye. “Me? Dutch? I ain’t that old yet, kid.” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up.
“Well, my nose is broken because this little shit thought I was with you, so I have some choice words for this ‘Dutch’.” You huffed. “And don’t call me ‘kid’.” You brushed your fingers across the bridge of your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. One deep breath in, out, pop. You pushed your nose back into place and winced. A wad of blood shot out. “Jesus shit!” You coughed, you never get used to having to do that. The blue coat cowboy looking mother-fucker looked semi-impressed.
“Well, I’m not Dutch, but you could sure meet him if it pleases.” Something caught his attention. “Speak of the devil…” The door opened again. A man walked in with very distinct black hair. He was also a cowboy looking mother-fucker. Oh god, am I in yeeyee country? His eyes immediately locked on you.
“Did you cause this mess, Arthur? Or have we just met a new friend?” The man who you presumed to be Dutch, had a deeper voice than the man apparently called Arthur, but their accents were similar. That was not promising for you.
“That depends, his name is West, James West. I walked in a right fine mess between him and that there O’Driscoll.” Arthur pointed to the man still struggling to steady himself. Dutch choked a deep laugh, he seemed more amused than Arthur was.
“Right fine is right, Arthur. You did this?” He asked. You nodded reluctantly. “You’re a good fighter, boy. Real good, it seems.” He strode over to the guy on the floor and picked him up by the collar, tossing him over to Arthur. “Morgan, you deal with this trash while I talk to our new pal.” Dutch walked over to you, confidence in his step, while Arthur threw the man back on the ground. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and shook you around a bit. “James West, huh?”
“Yeah, what’s it to ya?”
“Oh, this boy’s got spunk, Morgan!” You looked over and saw Arthur yanking the man around by the shirt. Dutch forced your attention back to him. “Now West, you’ve gotta understand our position here. We can tell clear as day you ain’t involved in a lick of this mess. But we don’t have a single clue as to what your business is up here. Now, you seem like a considerate young man, but I got worried folks on this mountain, and I can’t have no scamps running around and hellraising” He squeezed your shoulder. “So, don’t take any offense to what I’m about to ask, but what are you doing up here?” He looked you dead in the eyes. In your opinion, the question was fair. You couldn’t fully let your guard down, but they appeared to not be whoever put you here. Then again, these O’Driscoll’s didn’t seem to be either.
“I can’t give you an answer to that one, Mr. …?”
“Van Der Linde.” That’s one hell of a name.
“Mr. Van Der Linde. Frankly, I have no damn clue why I’m here. One minute, I’m getting shot down in the middle of the day, and then I wake up trapped in some barn in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in what looks like the ass end of winter. So, I’m a little confused right now to say the least.” You were clearly frustrated with your situation, he wasn’t oblivious to it.
“Where are you from, son?”
“California.” That was a safe enough answer.
“James West from out West. That’s certainly an opener.” He scratched his chin. “I’m gonna put you to a test young man.” He turned you around and lead you over to where Arthur had just gotten off the now bloody man. He was whimpering, begging under his breath for mercy.
“I don’t think he’s got much to say, Dutch. They apparently happened upon this place and took it over. That’s all I’m getting’”
“I’m going to give our new young friend a choice.” He pulled a revolver out of his holster and held the handle out to you. “In normal circumstances, I’d let Arthur handle this situation himself. But I’ve got an itching curiosity with you, kid.” You felt obligated to hold it in your hand. Looking down at the man, pity flared in your chest. “Should we kill him, or let him go? I’m letting you make the call.” What kind of question was this? Who were these guys? The choice wasn’t very difficult, you’d be a hypocrite if you did otherwise, and you weren’t compromising your promise on the off chance these guys might not like your opinion.
You handed the gun back to Dutch.
“Just because he’s an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to die. Let him go.” Dutch was intrigued by your answer. He looked over to Arthur with a smirk.
“I think I like kid!”
“Please don’t call me ‘kid.” You requested. Arthur pulled the man to his feet and threw him outside.
“Get outta here before he regrets it.” The man darted into the snow, leaving a trail behind him.
“Grab the horse, Arthur. We gotta get something out of this.” You were lead outside to find a horrific scene, bodies were strewn about the snowy landscape. Whoever these guys were, they were not to be trifled with. You should play this safe.
There was a house not too far away, the snow was dense. It was more than freezing. You sent a glare to the horse Arthur led past you. You’ll pay for this, you dumb fucking horse. With your adrenaline dying down, your whole being felt frozen.
“Normally, I wouldn’t be one for disrupting dead for anything other than money, but you’ll die out here without something warm, Mr. West.” Dutch gestured to one of the several bodies riddled through the snow. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best not to think about how you were robbing from dead people. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you still didn’t feel good about it. You separated from him and carefully stepped around the bodies littered in the snow. You found a man with his face in the snow, you pretty much picked him so you wouldn’t have to see his face as you stripped him of his coat. It didn’t look particularly warm initially, but anything would be better than this. The arms bent limply back as you peeled the sleeves away. Luckily upon further inspection, you were happy to learn there was a sort of wool lining inside, that would at least help insulate your own body heat. A sudden commotion broke out from inside the rustic home. A man yelling for Dutch and a woman screaming. Your instincts made you spring into action, you lept through large portions of the snow to make it to the steps faster and before you knew it you were bursting through the door. A blonde man wearing another cowboy-looking hat was chasing a woman around a table.
“What the hell are you doing, Micah?” Arthur questioned as him and Dutch followed you in.
“We got a feisty one over here, boys!” He hollered. Oh, you were not comfortable with this type of language.
“Stop chasing the poor woman, ya moron!” He warned with more intensity. You weren’t gonna see this go down, that’s for sure. You ran up behind the man called Micah, grabbed his collar, and used his weight to pull his back towards you, and then to the ground. His body slammed, he let out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained groan.
“Fucking sicko! Stop chasing her around, she’s scared!”
“Get out of my house!” The woman bellowed. Admittedly, you had no idea what was going on, but you knew you could at least try and defuse the situation. You put your hands up to appear less threatening.
“Miss, I don’t know who you are or what in God’s name is going on, but I promise I am not here to hurt you.” You spoke to her in a calm voice. Whatever was going on, it clearly had her frazzled. “I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t make it habit of hurting people who don’t need hurting. You clearly have been hurting for no reason. Can you explain to me what’s happened so that I can help you with this situation?” You took a cautious step around the table to make sure she wouldn’t dart away from you, you kept steady eye contact.
“They…they killed my husband a few days ago! They took over my home and locked me in the basement!” She wept. Maybe these O’Driscolls were the ones to stow you in the barn, they sure seemed like the type with this new information.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. I can assure you that those men won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Can you-“ You heard glass shatter, looking over, you found Micah scattering to his feet, fire was spreading from the floor to the wall at an incredible rate. It was already crawling up the right-side wall before you had a chance to react. There was no way you could put that out by yourself, and the others weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to help you. You settled on running to grab some blankets from the bed across the room. The boys were leading the woman out of the house and she reluctantly followed. Micah sent you a glare as you passed him out of the house. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that, you weren’t any help!” You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but you knew you were right on this one. The group was walking toward some horses, you followed behind.
“Micah, lead the horse back to camp.” You handed the blankets to the woman.
“Thank you.” She seemed genuine but was also hurt by your sentiments.
“It’s no problem, ma’am.”
“Adler, Sadie Adler is my name.” She wrapped herself in the blankets.
“Well, it’s no problem, Mrs. Adler. It’s the bare minimum to what I could’ve done.” You hoped whatever camp Dutch mentioned was close by. This cold was blistering.
“Mrs. Adler, you may ride with me, we’ll get you back to people who can help.” Dutch hopped up onto a white horse, lending a hand for Sadie to pull herself up. “Arthur, please take our new friend with you. I don’t think he’s in any shape to be riding.” Arthur nodded, heaving himself with ease onto a spotted mare? You couldn’t tell if it was a girl, but you just got that vibe. He did not give you a hand. Oh yeah, I’m a dude. A manly man. You gripped the back of the saddle and used all the arm strength you had to get onto the bare back on the horse. You hoped this ride wasn’t going to be too bumpy because you were not about to get punched because you had to grab onto this man and couldn’t tell if someone was a homophobe or not. You sure hoped these people weren’t, but you weren’t exactly in the position to be picky.
“Pearson’s not gonna happy about this.” Arthur mentioned as the horses pushed forward.
“Mr. Pearson isn’t happy about anything except his drink. He’ll be alright.” Now seemed like a good a time as any to start asking questions. They couldn’t go anywhere away from you at the moment.
“Not to interrupt or anything, but could someone tell me where I am, or what day it is. Could someone please tell me what the deal is?”
“We’re north of New Hanover if the maps are correct. We’re planning to head down there as soon as this winter passes. God knows how long that’s gonna take.” Dutch complained. You had never heard of New Hanover, but apparently it was winter. Maybe you really did get shot, put into a hospital maybe? Then these guys… You panicked for a second. O’Driscoll wasn’t another name for them was it? It didn’t make much sense but no one else would put this much effort into stealing you away. “As for the day, I couldn’t tell ya exactly. It’s winter in the year of our Lord 1899.” He laughed. What?
“What?”
“Ah, just bit of a joke, son. We live in dark times. We’re hurtling straight into a new century.” Wait was he joking or not joking?
“It’s 1899?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but he seemed to pick up on your worry.
“Yes, it is, son.” He paused. “Are you alright?” You were anything but alright. These people are crazy, I’m trapped on a mountain with some insane cultists who think they’re in the 19th century, I’m fucked. “Arthur, we need to hurry, the boy’s looking pale.”
Your head felt fuzzy, colors were blurring together. I am not stuck on a god damn mountain in 1899, I’m not, that’s physically impossible. This is all a dream, or some weird set up. You felt like you were 19 again, disconnected, afraid, losing it. You weren’t gonna go back there again, you wouldn’t! You didn’t know you had stopped breathing. You didn’t feel Arthur’s arm catching you so you wouldn’t get trampled. Everything was black.
#rdr2#rdr2 fanfic#arthur morgan#Dutch Van Der Linde#time travel au#red dead redemption 2#Javier Escuella#Charles Smith#John Marston#sadie adler#mary-beth gaskill#hosea matthews#abigail marston#lenny summers#too many tags
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Now I’ve Seen You I’ve Seen It All Chapter Two
This is a really long fic title, dang. Anyway, enjoy!!!
The next morning, the counselors are sitting drinking coffee in the Big Cabin before the children wake up and the morning rush sends them in a million and one directions. Addy’s texting someone, a grin on her face as her mug hovers between the table and her mouth.
“Are you talking to Keely?” Phoebe asks, peering over Addy’s shoulder.
“Yep, she’s got this major project designing a wedding dress for someone, and she’s pestering me about whether cream lace or white lace looks better, or something like that.”
Phoebe giggles, thinking of her own mother as she leans back against Knox. “Well, there was no lace on my dress and we survived.”
“Tell that to Keely.”
Addy, Phoebe, and Knox laugh. Farther down the table, Cooper and Kris are wrapped up in each other, discussing the weather. “If it rains, in the afternoon, I’ll have to cancel wiffle ball,” Cooper muses. Kris rolls his eyes affectionately.
“What’s with you and wiffle ball?”
“Maeve won’t let me use real baseballs.”
“They’re dangerous!” Maeve protests from her spot in Luis’s arms.
Kris runs a hand through his curls and grins. “She’s got a point, babe. Look at what happened yesterday.”
“Kris that was a wiffle ball not a baseball so your point is invalid.”
“Imagine the kind of damage Ellen could have done if she had a baseball!”
“Kris please if Ellen wants to inflict damage she doesn’t need a baseball for that.”
“Speaking of, I wonder if Ellen and Ali are getting along,” Maeve says musingly as she rests her head on Luis’s shoulder.
“I’m sure they are,” Luis says.
Everyone at the table - minus the deranged couple - exchanges looks clearly indicating that they do not agree.
They would be correct.
“Ellen stop humming,” Ali grumbles from her bunk as Ellen stands in front of the mirror brushing her shoulder length hair.
Ellen hums a little louder.
“Ellen I mean it, stop humming.”
Ellen switches songs and hums louder.
“Ellen.”
“Hmmm.” Ellen’s stopped humming at this point and is now shouting random vowels as she continues methodically running a brush through her hair.
“Ellen-I-don’t-know-your-middle-name-Rojas stop this instant or else. You’re giving me a headache and you’re off pitch.”
“HMMM- hey!”
In a desperate attempt to get Ellen to shut up, Ali leaps off her bunk, landing on top of Ellen with a bang.
“Shut! Up!” Ali shouts from on top of Ellen, ignoring her bruised arm.
“My hair! My hair!” Ellen shouts.
Ali pauses. “Your hair? Your hair? Girl I just jumped on you and you’re worried about your hair?”
“My hair!” Ellen repeats.
Ali rolls off Ellen. “Are you seriously that worried about your- ah!”
Ellen uses the opening to roll over on top of Ali. “Stop being so mean and bossy all the ti- oh hey Aunt Phoebe!” Ellen says, dropping her hands from Ali’s shoulders, which she had been shaking with every word.
Ali and Ellen both stand up, sheepishly turning to Phoebe, who had just pushed the door open, a tray of food balanced expertly one one hand.
“Hello girls, I brought breakfast since Maeve wants you two to stay here and think about your actions. Which I’m sure you’re doing.”
“Oh yeah,” Ali says.
“For sure,” Ellen agrees.
Phoebe raises her eyebrows, not fooled. “Well, I’ll just leave this here so you can keep thinking,” she says, placing the tray on a desk. Both girls nod and wave as Phoebe leaves. The moment the door closes they scramble for the food, pushing each other until they’ve both grabbed something. The cross to opposite sides of the cabin and sit, glaring at each other. They stay this way for the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, pausing here and there to read books or throw thinly veiled insults at each other, but mostly they just sit in silence. Until the rain starts about an hour after Knox brings lunch.
“It’s raining,” Ellen says.
“Yeah I’m aware,” Ali responds.
“It’s making the roof leak.”
Ali looks up to see a hole the size of a quarter in the roof, water slowly dripping onto the floor. “You’re worried about that? At home the roof was dripping so badly my dad had to redo the entire ceiling.”
Ellen tilts her head.
“My dad owns a construction company.”
“Oh. My mom’s a lawyer. We live in an apartment building.”
“Does your mom fix stuff?”
‘“We’re not allowed. And anyway, I don’t think she’d like to. She’s really neat and not… handson-y.”
“What about your dad?”
“I don’t have one.”
Ali nods once before turning back to her book, not sure how to proceed. If the girls realize they’ve just had a real conversation, they don’t acknowledge it. They stay silent until Ellen looks up to roll out her neck and realizes that the hole has become more like the size of her palm.
“Ali! The hole!”
Ali looks up and jumps up in surprise. “We need to catch the water before it gets anywhere!” she cries as the water splashes down onto the wooden floor.”
“We need a bucket!”
Ali looks at Ellen like she’s grown three heads. “Right. Let me go get it from my car.”
“You don’t have a car.”
“And I don’t have a bucket either!”
Both girls scramble, frantically dancing around the water to find something suitable for catching the precipitation.
“Your bag!” Ellen shouts, pointing to Ali’s oversized bag.
“What?”
“Yeah, it’ll work, we can line it with your leather jacket, it's waterproof right?”
Ali looks around frantically, trying to find a better alternative to her bag and jacket (which is waterproof). She doesn’t find one. “Okay! Fine!”
Both girls scramble to dump out the contents of the bag, and they line it with Ali’s jacket, pushing the bag under the water. They step back, catching their breath as the water starts to collect in the bag. Once she’s sure that the bag will hold the water, Ali turns to her things. She crouches and starts collecting everything, putting them on the bunk underneath hers. Ellen’s about to go back to her bed when she sees Ali picking up her things on her own. Feeling guilty for suggesting they use Ali’s only bag, Ellen climbs back down the ladder and starts picking up assorted things: a chapstick here, an earring there, until she sees an old tattered picture and freezes.
The picture is a normal picture: a girl in a green cap and gown, a grey dress peeking out underneath. She’s standing in front of a fireplace, a grin on her face as she holds up a diploma for the camera. But this isn’t just any old girl, it’s a girl Ellen recognizes. She knows the dark framed glasses and grey eyes and tan skin and brown curls. It’s her mother. Blood rushes to Ellen’s head.
“Ali?” she asks quietly. Ali freezes, surprised by Ellen’s tone.
“What?”
“Why do you have a picture of my mother?”
Ali turns, sees the picture in Ellen’s hand, and yanks it back. “Hey! Be careful with that, it's important.”
Ellen tries to take it back. “I mean it, Ali, why do you have a picture of my mother?”
Ali makes a face. “Your mother? That’s my mother, stupid.”
“No, that’s my mom.”
“Why would I have a picture of your mom?” Ali asks.
“How am I supposed to know! Here, I’ll prove it.” Ellen fishes around her duffle bag for a moment until she pulls out a wallet. She opens it, and slides a Polaroid picture out from the slot where IDs are supposed to go. It’s of Ellen and Bronwyn, taken in their penthouse apartment the day before Ellen left for camp. Bronwyn had her arms around Ellen as they smiled at the camera that, at the time, was placed on the mantelpiece. Bronwyn was wearing a grey blazer and her hair was down, and it’s easy to see the resemblance between the Bronwyn in the Polaroid picture and the Bronwyn in Ali’s picture. Ellen hands Ali the picture. Ali stares at it for a moment, looking between the two pictures. When she finally turns away from them, Ellen can’t tell if she’s confused or about to cry.
“Why do I have a picture of your mom?”
“That’s what I’m asking.”
“But, does this mean I haven't been looking at my mom?” Ali’s actually crying now.
Ellen softens her tone. She can’t imagine finding a picture of her father and then learning it’s not her father. “I don’t know. Where did you find this?”
“In my dad’s office. I thought that person in the corner was him. I thought it was the only picture of my parents in the same room that I had.” Ali’s sobbing, and Ellen puts a hand on her arm. She doesn’t pull away.
“Is that him? In the corner?” Ellen can just make out an arm in a leather jacket. Ali nods. Ellen thinks this isn’t a lot to go off of, parents wise, but Ellen can understand Ali’s desperation. She’s always wondered about her father, but her mother’s only said that she’s moved on and doesn’t want to talk about him. “I’m sorry Ali. Did your dad grow up in Bayview?”
“Yeah,” Ali sniffs.
“My mom too. She hasn’t been back since I was born. That was twelve years ago. Thirteen in October,” Ellen adds. Ali’s head shoots up.
“October?”
“Yeah, October thirty first. I’ve always loved that I was born on -”
“Halloween. Ellen, I was born on Halloween. I’m twelve almost thirteen.”
Ellen looks at Ali. “That’s a funny coincidence.”
Ali grabs for Ellen’s shoulders. “What if it’s not? What if we were born on the same day? What if your mom is my mom? I mean we look alike right? Everyone says so. We only disagreed because we didn’t like each other.” Ellen notices the past tense. Maybe Ali doesn’t hate her anymore.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I mean, we both have black hair. We both have freckles. Our skin is the same shade of not-pale-but-not-tan-either. And our eyes are… wait are they blue or grey?”
“I’ve always called them ‘grue’,” Ellen admits.
“Me too!”
“Wait, Ali, are you saying we’re sisters?”
“Ellen, you doofus, we’re twins.”
It takes a moment for this to sink in, but all of a sudden, Ellen’s crying in a way that she hasn’t in a long time. She’s hugging Ali, rocking back and forth and sobbing into her shoulder. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” they keep saying over and over in unison, almost like they’re identical twins that have had their entire lives to do things like say the same thing at the same time. When they pull away, Ellen asks: “Does this mean your dad is my dad?”
“Yeah! I think it does!”
“Oh my gosh, what’s he like?” Ellen asks.
“He’s great! He’s funny and really nice and we watch movies together and he takes me to work and he built me a treehouse.”
“Oh. My. God. That’s so cool.”
“What about Mom?”
“She’s a lawyer. She’s super cool and she has the greatest fashion sense and she drives the coolest car. Oh my gosh, Ali, this means that Aunt Maeve is your aunt too!”
Ali starts crying again at this realization. She truly does adore Maeve.
“Do you think she knows?”
“I don’t know. Ali, we should ask!”
“Yes! Let’s go!”
Both girls sprint out of the door, hand in hand, glancing at each other every few moments, reveling in the feeling of finding family, their past animosity long forgotten.
#maeve rojas#luis santos#bronwyn rojas#nate macauley#cooper clay#kris (oou)#phoebe lawton#knox myers#addy prentiss#keely (oou)#izzielizzie's fics
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Chapter Eight: Here's To Hoping
(Image not mine)
Rated: PG
~You see I had this crazy dream last night, this man he talked to me
He told me everything that's good and bad about my history
He told me that you are,
you are the future
And the future looks good
The future looks good to me~
"Jack," Sam sighed, checking his watch, "You gotta face the possibility that Marty may not be coming."
Jack was pacing back and forth across the motel's parking lot, trying his best not to slip on the crystallized asphalt. Dean had called the frozen tarmac 'Black Ice' and Jack felt that the term was quite accurate, it did feel like he was trying to walk on ice. But Jack just couldn't stand still. It was seven thirty-five A.M. and Marty still had not showed.
"No, she's coming. I'm sure of it!" Jack said with conviction, wringing his hands before shoving them into the pockets of his jacket. The small amount of force he applied was enough to throw him off balance. Jack's feet slipped out from beneath him and his head smacked against the frozen tarmac.
Sam flinched in sympathy but didn't move from the spot where he leaned against the Impala. He made no move to help Jack up as this was the sixth time he had bashed his head on the black ice in the last fifteen minutes. That fall and the five others before it would have been enough to kill or at least critically injure your typical human being.
So naturally, or rather unnaturally, Jack sat up and rubbed the back of his head. The blood soaked his hand as the wound quickly mended itself. Soon all that was left of the injury was a puddle of blood, nearly identical to five others on the ground that quickly began to freeze. Jack scooted on his knees to the edge of the parking lot and used the snow gathered there to wash the crimson substance off his hand. He stood carefully before beginning yet another round of pacing that would most likely end the same way it had the last six times.
Jack wished he could be sitting in the Impala with Dean and Cas but he found that waiting for Marty was more important to him, so he kept pacing. He wouldn't have to wait much longer. Dean had said that they would wait until eight o'clock before going to look for her. That arrangement had taken quite a while to agree upon. When Marty had failed to show up at six o'clock, Jack had immediately feared the worst.
"What if-what if she's hurt, or something? What if she got kidnapped?" He had worried.
"Jack, I'm sure everything is fine. People have different versions of what 'bright and early' means," Dean had reassured him, taking a long sip of coffee. He did not want to be up, but one thousand miles was a long way to go, so it was best they got up early. Besides, the earlier they checked out, the less they would have to pay, the motel charged by the hour and the rates weren't cheap.
"I know, but you saw what happened last night! What if those guys came after her again?" Jack had leaned back against the Impala's seats. The only reason he had gotten into the car in the first place was for the air conditioning. He was deeply worried that Dean might just decide to take off without Marty.
"Jack raises a valid point, Dean. The odds that those men from the bar should come after Martina, are considerable," Cas noted.
"Fine, if the shrimp doesn't show by eight, we go looking for her, and if we can't find her by ten, then I don't care; we're leaving without her," Dean decided. That was when Jack climbed out of the vehicle and began his trek back and forth across the parking lot. Sam had just followed him.
"I dunno, Jack. She seemed sorta skittish, don't ya’ think?" Sam now spoke.
"What are you saying?" Jack asked, turning to Sam.
"I'm saying that maybe you freaked her out. Maybe she got scared and ran off. Maybe- I don't know- maybe she's hiding, or something." Jack's eyes narrowed.
"You think she's scared of me?" He asked, though it sounded like more of a statement than a question. "What did I do wrong?"
"No, no. Jack, you didn't do anything wrong. I think, maybe she's just scared of coming with us- of what that might mean for her. I don't think she's scared of you, Jack. Marty doesn't seem like the sort of person that scares easy," Sam reassured. A smile tugged at the corner of Jack's mouth.
"You're right. She doesn't."
"If she doesn't show, we'll go looking, but you have to be ready in case she's changed her mind."
"She-she wouldn't do that, she promised!" Jack insisted.
"Sometimes people break their promises," Sam warned.
"She's coming. I know she is."
"Okay, Jack." Sam ducked back into the car, leaving the young Nephilim to wait in the cold. Jack turned on his heel to resume pacing.
He forgot he was standing on the ice.
Down Jack went. Yet again. Bashing his head on the asphalt. Yet again.
This time, Jack decided to just stay down for a bit and closed his eyes. He could hear Dean's obnoxious laughter echoing from inside the Impala. Jack came to the conclusion that black ice, and ice in general, was hard, impossible to walk on, and absolutely unforgiving when you slammed your head against it. Jack decided that he didn't like the black ice, he decided that he didn't like ice at all. This was fortunate as seemed as though the feeling was mutual.
There was a skidding noise somewhere off to his left and Jack opened his eyes. He turned his head towards the sound and directly beside him was Marty's amused looking face, only eight inches from his own.
"That was the most graceful thing I think I've ever seen in my life. You should consider ballet, Jack," She said.
Marty lay on the ice next to Jack with her head propped up on her elbow. Her mouth was twisted in a smirk and she held an eyebrow in a raised position. The expression appeared condescending, but Jack could see the sparks of affectionate mirth gleaming in her eyes.
Now, the reason why Marty was laying on the ground was a mystery to Jack. He was also baffled as to how she had managed to sneak up on him the way she had. If she had been walking down the street, he would have seen her coming, but he hadn’t, and it wasn't as though he had been laying on the ground for very long. If she had been close enough to see him fall, then how had he not seen her? Jack sat up and his brows pulled together in slight confusion.
"Where did you come from?" He asked. Marty followed his lead and sat up with a shrug. A large, overstuffed backpack was slung over her shoulders, yet she carried it with ease.
"From over there," She said, causally gesturing to the thicket of trees just behind the Motel as if it was a normal thing for people to go bushwhacking to their destination instead of simply taking the road.
"Why?" Jack wondered. Marty shrugged again.
"Cause' it's faster and way funner than using the road," She answered. Then she blinked and her face sort of scrunched up and she shook her head, laughing to herself. "Funner? Funner? That's not even a word! I think I need to use the sleep." Jack laughed with her for a moment before glancing to his feet and frowning. "What's wrong Jack-Jack?" The line between Jack's brows deepened and he looked to Marty.
"Why do you call me that?" He asked, temporarily distracted from his cold, slippery problem. Marty's mouth twitched with a tiny laugh.
"Jack-Jack is a character in a movie about superheroes. Have you ever seen The Incredibles?"
"No, I haven't."
"Oof, buddy! I'll have to show it to you one of these days, just remind me. Anyway, Jack-Jack is a baby with, like 50 different powers that he just uses willie-nillie and, yeah; it's a pretty funny movie and when you said you had powers and that you're, like two, that's just what I thought of," She explained. "And I'm rambling again, sorry!"
"I don't mind. I like knowing what you're thinking about," Said Jack. Marty ducked her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in a shy sort of way.
"Nah, you'll get tired of it eventually." Marty tapped her forehead. "Up here is nothin' but a random mix of movie quotes, song lyrics, and paradoxical questions."
"I don't think so," Jack said, shaking his head. Marty made a face.
"Well I do! I live up there, dude! Anyway, what was the long face for?" Her change of subject brought Jack to his problem.
"I don't like ice," He said, as if that explained everything. Marty raised an eyebrow in question, "It's impossible to walk on!" Jack exclaimed.
"Ah, I see. I guess that explains why you look like a homicide victim." Marty gestured to the frozen pools of Jack's blood on the tarmac and the blood coating the back of his head. "Want some help getting up?" Jack nodded.
Planting her feet on the icy surface, Marty stood and extended her hand for Jack to take. He used her arm to pull himself up, doing his best to replicate what Marty had done to stand. He wobbled a bit and almost fell back down, but Marty caught and steadied him before that happened. When he was vertical again, Jack glanced toward the Impala and realized that now he had to get over to it without falling. Marty was quick to notice his worry.
"Come on, Jack. It's really not that hard, look!" Letting go of his hand and sliding out onto the ice, she twirled once, jumped into the air and then twirled again, lifting her foot to her knee. Her foot touched back down and dragged her to a stop, facing Jack who looked like he'd seen a miracle. "See?" Marty did jazz-hands.
"I don't think I can do that," Jack said, sounding a little intimidated.
"Oh, no way. That took me years, I was just showing off!" She explained with a wave of her hand. Moving back to him, she reached down to pick up an instrument case and wrap a gray plastic grocery bag around her hand.
"You should teach me!"
Marty chuckled and pulled some of her hair away from her face. Her black-to-grey-to-white hair was down again today, descending all the way to her knees. Jack had never met anyone with hair that long, but he thought it was amazing.
"Alright, just remind me take you ice-skating and movie bingeing, kiddo."
"I don't think you can call me 'kiddo'," Jack said with a frown.
"Why not? If you don't like it, I'll stop saying it."
"Well, I am biologically older than you, right?" Jack pointed out. Marty chuckled.
"Where does a two-year-old hear a word like 'biologically'?"
"I heard Sam use it."
"Makes sense." Marty shrugged. "Anyway, you're right, but I call everyone 'kiddo' age doesn't really matter. I call people all sorts of things."
"Like what?"
"You'll find out, honey-bunches-of-oats."
"Is that one of them?"
"Yup!" Marty snatched Jack's hand and helped him over to the car where she knocked on the driver's side window. Dean rolled it down and she glanced at the men inside. "Hey guys!"
***
"H-hey, Marty! You-you came!" Sam greeted me, he sounded surprised.
"I promised I would!" I said, I didn't miss the 'I-told-you-so' look Jack shot at Sam, "Dean, could you pop the trunk? I've got precious cargo." I raised the instrument case with my violin up into view.
"Yeah, sure." Dean climbed out of the car and skidded a little getting to the back where he opened the trunk.
I swallowed deeply. There were a LOT of weapons in there. Dean pulled on a tab and a panel came down, covering the arsenal in the truck's false bottom. I placed my case in carefully and slid it all the way to the back. Taking off my backpack, I positioned it between the case and the truck's door so my instrument wouldn't slide around. It was the most valuable thing I owned; I couldn't have it getting damaged. I then nodded to Dean and he closed the trunk. I was really doing this.
Jack opened the Impala's door for me and clung to it like a lifeline as I gathered my hair and slid into the backseat next to Cas. The boy followed after me and pulled the door shut.
"Here we go." Dean put the car into gear and rolled it out onto the road.
"So, where are you guy's taking me?" I asked, shifting to get comfortable in my seat.
"Lebanon, Kansas," Dean answered.
"Ooh, that's a long way away. I'm sorry I was so late. Did I make you very late?" Dean shrugged.
"Doesn't really matter, but yeah."
"I'm really sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye to somebody," I apologized, "But I brought chocolate! Will that atone for my sins?" I raised the bag of goodies Dan had given me.
"Hell yeah!" Dean reached back and opened his hand for the brown gold. I dropped a truffle into his palm, tossing one into Sam's lap and handing another to Jack. I held one out to Cas but he turned me down.
"No thank you, Martina," The angel said, gently.
"It's Marty, remember?" I corrected him and shrugged, unwrapping the candy. "Well, more for me, I guess." Dean reached his hand back again, asking for seconds. "Dude, this is gonna be a long ride, we gotta save our provisions." I declared, dramatically slapping his hand away.
"Aw, man!"
"Suck it up, butter-cup." I was about to pop the candy into my mouth when I noticed something on the wrapper. "Does anybody here like nougat?" I asked. Jack's head snapped up, his eyes begged for the truffle in my hand.
"I do."
"Oh good! I can't stand the stuff!" I passed him the chocolate. Jack looked at me like I was insane.
"Oh no, Jack. She doesn't like nougat, are you sure you guys can be friends?" Sam joked. At least I was pretty sure he was joking.
"You say that like I committed high treason!" I chimed.
"I dunno, I do feel betrayed," Jack said with his mouth full. I faked a gasp.
"I don't believe this! Jack, are you breaking up with me?" Dean burst out laughing, Sam snorted, and Jack just gave me his lopsided grin. My comment even won a quiet chuckle from Cas. I took that as a good sign.
"Yeah, I think so." Jack chuckled.
"Can we still be friends?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my every word. Jack pretended to think about that.
"Only if you teach me to ice-skate," He mock-decided.
"It's a date! Wait, no its not, you broke up with me." I reached out and shook Jack's hand, sealing our satirical deal. The car shook with laughter and I gave myself a mental tally mark as I tied up my treat bag, placing it at my feet. When the laughter died down, Castiel was the first to speak up.
"Was that an instrument case you brought with you?" He asked.
"Yeah it is. Why?"
"I'd just like to get to know you," He answered simply.
"We all do. So, what instrument do you play, Marty?" Sam turned in his seat to look at me.
"Uh, I play the violin," I answered timidly.
"Are you very good?" Sam wondered.
"Um, well, I don't know. I'm sorta out of practice, but I started playing when I was eight," I replied. Sam chuckled.
"I'll take that as a yes." His tone was warm, despite his previous distrust. It made me smile, maybe I was winning him over.
"Okay, my turn," Dean spoke up.
"Yeah?"
"What's with the hair? I mean, that's a lot of hair. Why don't you cut it?" He asked. I bit my lip and nodded, trying to think of an acceptable answer.
"Well, my mom loved to braid hair, and my sisters, Bree and Jackie, hated having long hair so they cut theirs real short and my mom couldn't do anything with it, but I liked having my hair long. My mom would spend hours working on my hair, that was our time together. See, she always got so sad when I would cut it and now I just-" I stopped and looked at the floor of the Impala. "Now I just can't bring myself to cut it. Not without her. I don't want to make her sad. It's all I've got left of her." With a start, I realized I was crying and quickly wiped my tears away with my sleeve.
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" I cut Dean off.
"It's okay." It had to be.
"Well, what about the color, what's that about? Or does this have a tragic story behind it too?" Dean asked, trying to make a joke. I cracked a smile.
"Oh, I've always wanted to have it like this. I love the fading colors, so hiding from a blood thirty vampire just gave me the motivation to actually go through with it," I shrugged.
"So, what's your real hair color?" Dean pressed.
"Black."
"Wait, that's natural?" He sounded stunned.
"Yeah!" I giggled a little. "The black is real, only the grey and white parts are dyed."
"You're lucky, black hair is cool. Looks good on you too."
"Thanks’ Dean."
That was when we passed the small, wooden sign on the side of the road. The paint was old, faded by the sun, and chipping away but I knew what the words said.
Now leaving Copper Harbor
We'll get you back soon enough!
As I watched the town I'd called home for so many years fade from my view, I found myself hoping that I'd never return. I looked forward at the road ahead of me and the hunters beside me.
I looked to the future.
The future was looking pretty good.
~See, I had this crazy dream last night, this man he talked to me
He told me everything that's good and bad about my history
He told me you are,
you are the future
And the future looks good
The future looks good to me~
Lyrics from: The Future Looks Good by One Republic
#jack kline x oc#jack kline#jack kline fanfiction#jack kline x reader#spn#spn fanfiction#superntural#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#alexander calvert#alex calvert#jensen ackles#jared padalecki#jack is baby#the writing gets better#jack kline humor#jack kline fluff#fluff#my name is cas and i write stuff#fanfic#thanks for reading#have a nice day#misha collins
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Hello! Sorry to spring another request at you so soon, but those jealousy headcanons you wrote for me have got me hooked! Would it be possible to write a redemption/forgiveness focused "part 2" to those 3 HCs but years later, showing that they've both grown as people and wind up with happy endings together? (And heal my bruised ego, j/k 😆) If you would rather not revisit those stories, I completely understand + will think of something else 😁 TY once more for your immaculate creations 🙌🙏
yes! this will be the pt. 2 set years later from the first jealousy hc~ i know everyone’s a sucker for happy endings so i’ll try my best! aLSO YOU KNOW WHAT’S FUNNY!!! i remember when i got sent this ask and i just wrote immaculate in one of my writings omg!!! we are Connected
summary: time heals and people move on, for better or for worse
author’s note: this was less redemption, but more for forgiveness. sometimes, you can’t forget what someone did but forgive them after becoming changed people. being the bigger person, moving on, and being the best version of yourself is the sweetest revenge possible + taichi’s was the longest, i am the most proud of his!
there are some situations where it’s best to leave a person out of your life if they hurt you more than anything ♡ don’t feel like you are missing a part of yourself without them, you’re more than someone’s s/o; you’re you!
word count: 4,042 (total) — 1,297 (kazunari), 868 (tenma), 1,877 (taichi)
music: i don’t want you back – aj mitchell (kazunari), you could have been the one – coasts (tenma), wish u the best – blackbear (taichi)
jealousy (pt.2)
🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari
it kept raining, but kazunari refused to let that stop him anymore
kazunari stood drenched for so long but his umbrella was by his side this entire time (he covered himself and watched the stormy clouds part to reveal streams of the sun)
kazunari wanted to love himself first, and then maybe he could come back to loving you
so he attended therapy. learned how to openly commuicate his feelings without constantly seeking attention. made real friends with a theatre company named mankai. found passion in another art form: acting!
kazunari grew as a person, developing into his full identity and he finally knew who he was. kazunari stopped forming unhealthy attachments onto people who showed any form of interest on him and even had a few successful relationships because of his mindset
(all of them ended maturely, respectfully, and without any of the drama being a teen had. it felt nice to be an adult for once)
kazunari was content with his own body, for once. he practiced taking breaks and understood his own limits (not weaknesses, his therapist reminded him, just boundaries). kazunari even started posting online again, making enthusiatic blog posts that were genuine this time
kazunari stopped obsessively checking comments left on his selfies and just deleted any that were negative. but most times, he didn’t even see them because he was proud of how far he came. it could only go up from here
kazunari was happy!
but, you weren’t. you lost your best friend who eventually stopped sending random late–night texts. the one who always had an adventure up his sleeve and always made you laugh. where did he go?
it wasn’t until you spotted an advertisement that had his name in the bottom part of the cast. you didn’t even know kazunari was interested in drama, though he did have the flair for it
(you were too busy with your partner to even come to his water me! debut)
when you attended the summer troupe’s second opening night, you couldn’t recognize the man standing before you on stage
kazunari wasn’t that meek barista who shut down every time he made a mistake. now, when he flubbed the script, he simply did improv and didn’t let his mistake hold him back. he matured to be an accomplished young man with the talent to boot and all the charisma in the world
when kazunari’s sight glanced past you, he barely noticed your presence. he just nodded and spared no more attention towards you, focusing on the play and giving it his all
to you, kazunari was a stranger. to kazunari, you were just somebody he used to have good times with, that’s all
after that, you left and didn’t bother seeking contact with him again besides the occassional congratulations to be civil. he didn’t need you anymore, it was painfully obvious how happy he was now
(much happier than when he was best friends with you)
kazunari didn’t notice and put his energy into becoming someone he was proud of, gaining popularity online for his infectious happiness and wonderful, creative edits
kazunari stopped trying to love himself so you could love him. he did everything for him because he wanted to
after seeing you in the crowd, kazunari accepted you weren’t the same person he became best friends with and that was okay. he had 20 best friends who he shared a house with, what more could he ask for?
(even when he saw your long instagram post about your engagement, he liked it and left a happy comment. there was no jealousy over what could have been, just complimenting the ring without any hard feelings)
kazunari knew he would never see you again, that you were intimidated by his self–love. kazunari wasn’t too sad, just posted a group photo with the caption: “my best friends ✨”
kazunari moved on easily, knowing there was no point to get hung up if you were happy. who was he to get in the way of a happy relationship?
so when you sent him an e–mail asking him to be the best man at your wedding, it didn’t phase him as bad as he thought it would. maybe, just a little surprise. kazunari didn’t hesitate to request practice off and click to confirm his rsvp
(maybe, this could have been his last opportunty to be your best friend)
if it was possible to outdress the couple, he did. kazunari showed up to the wedding in his best suit, gladly chatting up the party
(he knew he looked good, and because of that, he didn’t flinch every time he was mistaken as the groom)
(he didn’t want to be, anyways)
kazunari met up with you in your dressing room, watching you pace as you had pre–marriage jitters. but you looked pretty, beautiful even, but you didn’t look like his bride. that didn’t hurt him, he just smiled and offered his arm
“you ready, best friend?” kazunari asked and the smile on your face reflected his: hollow, but somewhat sad. you both knew you guys weren’t close like before, the same people before. you two were almost unrecognizable, but the love as friends was still there
kazunari couldn’t deny you made his life better at some point, people just change and that was that. he couldn’t fault you for that
he couldn’t blame you for his fear of confessing his feelings, his avoidance of any type of serious relationship. that was on him, and he accepted that a long, long time ago
he was gonna walk the first love of his life down the aisle to another person, and kazunari smiled, knowing this was for the best
kazunari was happy the person you met all those years ago was your soulmate, you deserved that
as the double doors opened, you two gracefully walked down the aisle as he noticed the person at the end was crying tears of joy. they were so in love with you, and you had the same look on your face
kazunari didn’t even react like that, just smiled and gave you a thumbs up
this was definitely for the best
as the room stood for you, you glanced at kazunari and whispered something that had no effect on him whatsoever
“i liked you, before all of this.”
kazunari just looked forward, feeling the rain finally come to an end as a sunny, summer blue sky was shining with puffy white clouds
the rain was gone for good, and 19–year–old kazunari finally had his closure
“i did, too.” kazunari simply said and you didn’t react. it was clear, you both moved on
before giving you away, kazunari smiled, making some joke about being careful with his “daughter”
the room laughed, and he did, too (he meant it)
kazunari was happy for you as he watched you two exchange vows. maybe his past self would’ve selfishly wished that was him, object when the officiant asked, and steal you away
but kazunari knew you were happy
(best man kazunari stood up at the dining banquet to deliver his speech, holding the mic up to his mouth and he shared happy memories between the two of you)
(kazunari almost talked about how gorgeous you looked in golden hour back then, but stopped. that was a memory only his teen self should have, and instead made a toast)
(“for forgiveness, moving on, and best friends!”)
kazunari watched you have your first dance and looked outside. it was golden hour, and you were just as gorgeous as before
but, kazunari didn’t have to be your #1 anymore. because in his heart, he was his own #1, and that would never become a joke
the rain ended, and wouldn’t come back as long as he lived in the sun
🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma
you and tenma were cast in the same movie years after your public break–up
it was an easy job and guarenteed summer blockbuster for best lead actor, tenma
he was entering university now for acting, keeping a clean image as the media slowly forgot about his playboy past as he shifted his efforts to more time with his true friends and being a regular, casual teen
(even previous co–stars admitted his personality did a full 180 and it was refreshing to see the young actor turn over a new leaf)
tenma decided after you, he deserved real love that wasn’t fabricated by a company
he left his label with a rip to the contract, flipped them off with both his fingers, and became an independent star that rose to popularity due to his honest and brash interviews on the industry
he took on projects he loved and tenma’s parents slowly came to respect him as an actor, giving him the freedom to do whatever mattered to him
(tenma even started reclaiming back his missed childhood, lowering the expectations he forced upon himself and letting himself make mistakes. he started trying again and again, refusing to give up for the sake of his team)
tenma expanded his talents to both on screen and stage, and found himself becoming more of a team–player who was confident in his abilities to lead and be taken seriously
mankai taught him love wasn’t just romantic. he received love everyday from his close friends and pushed himself out of his comfort zone to express his feelings and appreciation without feeling uncomfortable
as a result, tenma was loved for who he was, not some idol image
tenma loved himself all because of his love for acting, and knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it if it wasn’t for you, weirdly enough
you were the breaking point. you set off the chain of events that let him take back his own life and pursue real, authentic things. tenma was still a kid at heart, but he grew up
the next time he saw you on set after providing food for the cast to practice showing apprecistion, he towered over you and had to look down
this time, it seemed like he was the one who ruffled your hair and treated you like his younger sibling
you hadn’t realized it, but tenma wasn’t the little kid you liked making fun of. now he was a strong, independent, opiniated firecracker who wasn’t afraid of telling it how it is
tenma wasn’t scared to tell you when you messed up, but this time, he offered advice. he was a natural leader who provided multiple effective solutions and was interested in working with the directors and producers to make the best possible cut
tenma wasn’t some egotistical, self–centered jock his company portrayed him out to be. he was a childish, fun–loving, aggressive firework who was unapologetic about his true self and put his entire self into acting
it was a particular scene that involved romance, and you had to act as a couple with tenma, having a practice read as you went through the lines
“i’m sorry, i loved you so much, it would have killed me if i didn’t say something.” tenma recited, emotionally looking into your eyes as he made his voice shake. it almost felt too authentic, and you cleared your throat, continuing the line
“i did too... but you,” you glanced up at him, and suddenly you realized tenma wasn’t that young brother you thought he was. you regretted ever treating him like some dumb kid, he had grown so much
“you were so young... i judged you too quickly and never let you have a chance. i’m sorry, tenma.”
tenma didn’t break character, but he just shook his head and put his hand out, knowing you didn’t follow the script
“it’s okay. it is what it is.”
you shook his hand, and you never realized how well his hand fit in yours
from that moment forward, you two had easy chemistry and became friends again. but as you began to see him as a man, he always reminded you that it was never going to work out even if he forgave you
he made it especially clear when you guys came back to that one arcade. its games never changing and it felt like you went back in time. when he caught you giving him the same look 16–year–old tenma gave you back then, he sighed and stared at you with firm determination
“i get it, i’m different now. but you gotta give up, don’t even think about it. i forgive you, but we’re friends. that’s all we’ll ever be.”
tenma was older now, and he was grateful for all you did for him, but he already had real love
he didn’t need fake love, especially from you
after playing games in the arcade, it was tenma this time who commented how fun it was and you could call him up any time for acting advice. he saw you as a younger sibling
you watched tenma grow up, but didn’t realize maybe you were the one who was still stuck in the past
🍁🛹 nanao taichi
taichi, grew up
he refused to ever let anyone hurt him the same way for the rest of his life. he couldn’t believe he was so desperate for love that it blinded his view on common sense. taichi never wanted to feel like he was used, kicked, and abandoned ever again
taichi never wanted to see you again, you didn’t deserve to see him after all this time
taichi began to build up his self–esteem, knowing whatever happened, wasn’t his fault anymore. he loved himself, he was the best you ever had and you left him for someone you ditched later that week
in a way, he won. taichi was happy, confident, and grew up to the best actor possible as he was surrounded by the mankai boys who supported him to be content with life
so taichi forced himself to stand taller, started looking people in the eye, and being direct with his boundaries. taichi learned more about what he could handle, and it was amazing to see how having self–respect meant people backed off, knowing he wasn’t a victim anymore
taichi learned his self worth and moved on, his love for himself was greater than anything he felt for you
(during times when he relapsed, sometimes he re–read the love letters he wrote you. you would leave them behind, not even opening them. they were so honest, so vulnerable, it physically hurt him to know he exposed his heart to the public like this)
(he’d read but at the end, he’d always laugh at his stupidity. you didn’t deserve to have such nice things like his heart)
taichi became even more extroverted, making countless friends as he realized making lasting relationships was meant to be double–sided and not just an one–way effort. as a result, he made contact with people who actually liked him and valued him as a friend
taichi put out good energy into life, and he got it back in the form of fun, friends, and his family
taichi liked making connections with people in theatre troupes on veludo way, always staying back to applaud at street acts and exchange contact information
one day, he came across a recently up and coming troupe that nearly fainted when they caught sight of the bright red hair that distinguished taichi
(amongst troupes, taichi was even better than god troupe. taichi was a resident star that was so nice that everyone loved him)
now, they were his closest friend group outside of the mankai boys and noticed their street act, rushing over to congratulate them
“you guys did amazing! i’m so proud!” taichi fake–sobbed, running over and throwing himself onto one of them with a tight hug as the group of friends released a tight laugh after the nervewrecking performance
“ah taichi~ you have to stop before i fall in love with you!” someone said, pushing taichi off jokingly as he pouted like a puppy.
taichi was older now, less naive and innocent to the dating game, his heart didn’t flutter like it would’ve before when he was 16
taichi just laughed it off, and it didn’t affect him like before. he didn’t fall in love, he learned to tell the difference between friendly affection and true love
(but sometimes, taichi closed himself off in a room, listening to the playlists he made for you on loop for hours. but in his moments of weakness, taichi listened and listened and listened. he scoffed, you never even liked the songs to begin with. he felt silly for wasting his favorites on you)
(slowly, eventually, the songs sounded less like you. he began to enjoy them on the radio and sang along freely, your existence blocked from his train of thought)
taichi added to the conversation, putting in funny jokes everyone laughed at and it felt nice to be involved in other groups. they didn’t ignore him, or try to take advantage of his obvious need to be popular
(it was funny how taichi naturally became popular the moment he loved himself, like being happy was all it took)
he wasn’t clinging for the validation anymore, taichi knew he was funny. he was worth it. he was the best version of himself possible
the topic changed to the troupe’s show being premiered this weekend. taichi gladly accepted the ticket, promising to come and cheer on the cast the loudest he could
(he knew they’d do the same when autumn troupe performed. in fact, they did. it was so cool to see all the troupes on veludo way band together and support creativity)
taichi received a promotional poster, thanking the group as he headed back to the dorms. taichi glanced down at the names, nearing the door before skidding to a stop
your name was in bold, big letters. taichi almost didn’t recognize it, he nearly repressed you in his memory
taichi thought back on the love letters he stayed awake to write, nearly falling asleep as he forced himself to share his feelings honestly. remembered how you didn’t even look at them, how it looked like you’d rather do anything than try to understand him
taichi heard the playlists in his ears all at once, his favorite songs being dedicated to you and you hated them
taichi nearly opened his notebook to pen a letter for you, was about to start shuffling through the playlist before he stopped
he read your name. said it aloud. but that was it, taichi just stuffed the poster in his bag as he strolled in after his first year of university
you didn’t deserve any space in his mind after what you did, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t come support his friends
taichi refused to ever let you have the privilege of controlling any aspect of his life anymore, he was going to that damn show and would yell as loud as possible
taichi knew he wasn’t coming for you, but for people who actually liked him
when taichi went inside, he smiled as his friends greeted him enthusiastically. he was so lucky to be who he was today
on saturday night, taichi was on the edge of his seat as the play reached its climax. your acting, he hated to admit it, was almost on par with his. you were dominating the stage and then some, your energy easily bouncing off your cast mates. it’s like you were born for the stage
16–year–old taichi would have been insecure over his own abilities, sunk into his seat and reconsidered everything he did. maybe would have thought he should practice more, get advice, fix who he was
but 19–year–old taichi was older, wiser, better. just because you were good, didn’t mean he wasn’t any good. in fact, taichi smiled contently, he was sure he was just a bit better
(just a little, and his ego actually believed it)
taichi jumped to his feet to applaud rambunctiously when the cast came out to have a bow, whooping as he swung his arms around to get his friends’ attention
they all turned and waved, sending comedic air kisses as you finally recognized him, your face paling and hands shaking as you didn’t do anything
taichi just smiled, waiting as the audience cleared out and he was let into backstage only to be embraced by the sweaty, hyped cast
“taichi~ you made it!” they cheered and taichi grinned, ruffling the younger actor’s hair as his heart soared due to being seen as a mentor to the rookies. he noticed the way they admired him, wanted to be like him
(and for once in his life, taichi liked being his own person, too)
“of course! anything for my friends!” taichi returned the hug, being the last person to pull away as he individually greeted everyone with just as much excitement. backstage buzz was real and got everyone in the best mood ever
except, you
when taichi reached you, your face was nervous. almost, fearful. you looked wary, ready to bolt at any moment he opened his mouth
(and taichi realized he had the power. he could’ve exposed you right then and there. tell everyone what a manipulative, toxic, evil person you were for breaking his heart. for cheating on him when he did nothing but be loyal to you. you were trash, the gum at the bottom of shoe, and he could easily destroy your career if he just told everyone. they would trust him, you’d be over)
(if he was 16, he would’ve ended you. he would’ve shared all the awful, terrible, low things you did and you wouldn’t be anything anymore. the revenge was almost too good, he would actually win)
but... the hurt that was in him before, the pain that would’ve pushed him to have the upper hand, it wasn’t there. he didn’t feel anything towards you except he was sorry you weren’t with him anymore
(he was the best you ever had, he knew that)
instead, taichi smiled even bigger. he pulled a boquet of flowers from behind his back, the flowers he remembered were your favorite
“hey! long time no see!” taichi quickly pulled you in for a hug, your rigid posture against his chest as you awkwardly put your hands around him. taichi realized it was the first time you actually hugged him back, but he didn’t feel anything
taichi pretended that you stepped on his foot, pulling away with a dramatic “ouch!” as you widened your eyes, about to profusely say sorry before he waved it off
“come on, you don’t have to apologize for what happened! i forgive you, you know. we’re good.” taichi pretended to be talking about the minor issue, gesturing to his shoe as he handed you the flowers. but you understood he meant much more than that, and your eyes were brimmed with tears
“hey~ don’t cry! it was just a little boo boo, nothing time won’t fix.” taichi sympathetically pat your shoulder, knowng you didn’t deserve it. you were the one who wasn’t worthy this time, even you couldn’t believe taichi forgived you for all you done
but one smile and you knew he wasn’t lying
(even after all this time, he couldn’t hide his emotions. his heart was on his sleeve, but it was protected. it recovered. it healed)
taichi stood tall. stared you in the eye. stopped trailing after you like a lost puppy. you stepped back as the crowd took him back, inviting him to the afterparty as he happily agreed, knowing he was the life of the party
taichi didn’t even look back at you, like he completely forgot all about you
taichi didn’t talk to you for the rest of the night, but when he did, he was always the bigger person, acting like nothing ever happened
he really moved on, and he felt so sorry for you he had to forgive you
(you had texted him later that night, wanting to meet up to talk. taichi opened the message, almost laughed, and closed his phone. he left you on read, he deleted your number again)
taichi was his own person now; he wasn’t in love with you anymore, he was in love with himself
and he was enjoying himself
taichi didn’t look back, not anymore
#miyoshi kazunari#kazunari miyoshi#sumeragi tenma#tenma sumeragi#nanao taichi#taichi nanao#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game#a3! headcanons#act! addict! actors! headcanons#mankai a3!#mankai company#a3! x reader#a3 x reader#kazunari x reader#tenma x reader#taichi x reader#a3! kazunari#a3 kazunari#a3! tenma#a3 tenma#a3! taichi#a3 taichi
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it comes and goes in waves (and carries us away) –– #2 Daughters
Hey, it’s me again.
This time with a little random family fic, it's just domestic nothingness, an evening with Harvey and his twin girls inspired by THIS image I posted on Tumblr. The gif got a lot of attention and it killed me, so I thought why not?! I'm still trying to learn these characters in preparation for a multi-chapter I have promised a few people.
Thank you so much to everyone who read my first little drabble and enjoyed it, I was really happy to read that. This one is in no way connected to the last.
Enjoy!
AO3 - FF.Net
DAUGHTERS
There was something about the city during Fall. Summer was still clinging to the air, warm and comfortable as the temperature slowly began to drop. He spent more time outside during those tentative few weeks where the air was sweet with pumpkin spice and crackling foliage. It felt easier then, to stroll the streets, soaking in the change of the seasons before the weather made walks like this impossible.
The lights on the street were just turning on, a chill settling in the air as commuters with a similar mind meandered up and down the street. Halloween decorations had begun to creep across storefronts advertising seasonal products that in a few weeks, would disappear until next year.
'Daddy, I want to be a purple princess and a witch.' A little voice piped up beside him enthusiastically, her small fingers gripped his right hand tightly as she skipped in step beside him. Harper with her straight strawberry blonde hair had a habit of clinging to him as if she loosened her grip for a second, he would disappear.
Harvey only chuckled, squeezing his daughter's hand in return as he tried to picture the vision, she had for her first proper Halloween. His job was to make her happy and whatever Harper asked for, Harvey was happy to oblige.
'Daddy?' Whiplash yanked at him like it did in that funny little way, the voice standing to his left tearing his attention away from the one on his right. He forgot sometimes, for a split second, that there was two of them. Harper on his left, Grace on his right, mirrors of each other brought into this world to gleefully mess with him. 'I want to be a ballerina, 'cause you can only be one dress-up'. Grace was almost an identical copy of her sister had it not been for the strawberry blonde hair that persisted in keeping tight ringlets around her head. Officially, they were identical but there were so many little things about them that insisted on being different.
'Nah-ah!' Harper retorted in a voice that sounded entirely too much like her mother. 'You can be all the dress-ups.' Harper was the unpredictable one, unexpected Baby B who developed her mother's flair for the dramatic. At four-and-a-half Harper Rose Specter had defined her personality as the rebellious one who hid behind a sweet face but had a love for slowly driving her sister crazy. Where Grace was neat and organised, perfectly dressed and contained, Harper was wild. She wore black and white striped tights instead of the pink stockings the ballet uniform required, her sneakers were bright colours that matched next to nothing in her wardrobe. Expensive clothes were wasted on Harper who always found a muddy puddle even on the driest of days. She was a rebel, a renegade, a girl after his own heart.
It was a miracle they lasted as long as they did in the womb together, evidently, it was the longest stretch of time between Harper and Grace where they weren't fighting. They bickered about toys, attention, who tucked in who first and how they did it and now that their sentences were long and their vocabulary had grown substantially, they argued about the other's logic.
'Daddy, I can be anything, can't I?' Harper tugged on his hand, staring up at him with large hazel eyes that always seemed to pull him in.
He thought they had longer on this, the sibling arguments that made no sense and the headache of it all. He was used to rallying clients, making sense of their quarrels and foraging agreements it wasn't so easy when the case involved his daughters on opposing sides.
'Anything.' He answered, knowing he would willingly give his daughters the world. He squeezed each of their hands. 'If Harper wants to mix her dress-ups, she can.' Grace pouted, the same pout his wife was bound to give him the second she realised Harper wasn't going to play ball on coordinating costumes, not now that he had given her permission.
It was the first year they were going to take the girls trick-or-treating, their first real Halloween where they were out on the street with all the other kids, knocking on doors and receiving sugary treats. Donna had something planned, only the perfect costumes for her girls, but she had not anticipated their spirit to be either own entities.
'My legs are tired.' Grace whined, her hand heavy in his, steps faltering as she complained. Harvey didn't hesitate before he scooped her up, hoisting the girl on his hip before they continued walking down the street.
'That better?' He asked, squeezing Grace's hip beyond the tulle of her tutu. Her head dropped to his shoulder as she gave him a small nod. This was what made it all worth it, the affection his girls managed to show him with cuddles and kisses that never seemed to end. He had been scared when the sonogram showed two babies rather than the expected one. Harvey didn't know what they were going to do or how they would manage two little lives at the one time. He didn't think he could shave that much time off his day, didn't think he could find the time at all. It all melted away the second they were there, two little pink bundles sitting in the crook of each arm. They were going to be fine. He suddenly realised how much he would sacrifice for their love and happiness.
He kissed Grace's cheek and gave her another squeeze. 'Are you going to show me all those dance moves you've been practising?' He jostled Grace, bouncing her on his hip with concern that she might just fall asleep on him. Tired girls lead to cranky girls and the last thing they needed at Thursday night ballet was a tantrum.
Harvey didn't always get to come to ballet, he tried but often cases weren't that simple. Sometimes he got caught in a meeting or had to finish up a deposition. It was rare that he had the opportunity to pick them up and take them to ballet, enough so that Harvey had been looking forward to it all afternoon.
'I can show you!' Harper broke away from his hand to skip a few steps ahead of him. She twirled, arms above her head as her tutu bounced with her movements.
'She's not doing it right.' Grace whispered where only Harvey could here. He chuckled, rolling his eyes at the two of them before his hand reached out for Harper. Harvey looked up as she took his hand again, falling back into step beside him. Standing out the front of his daughter's ballet studio was his wife, radiant as ever, red hair cascading down her shoulders, dress fitting snug against every curve. His heart warmed at the sight of her, almost skipping a beat with an excitement he would never get sick of.
Her eyes met his over the bustle of people on the street, a grin spreading across her cheeks in a way that made Harvey tingle. That smile was all for him.
'Mommy!' Harper pulled away from his hand once again, finally spotting her mother waiting for them. Their feisty daughter had a week spot for her mother, running full pelt towards her, Harper crashed into Donna's legs. Donna crouched to accept her daughter's hug, arms wrapping tight around Harper's before she stood, lifting the little girl to sit precariously on the bump that was subtly announcing the life growing inside of her. Harper giggled as Donna kissed her cheeks, peppering her touch left and right, over the ridge of her daughter's nose and back again before they shared sweet butterfly kisses.
'Hey, trouble!' Donna grinned; the smile uncontained as it burst across her face. It didn't matter how long it had been since she last saw her daughters, she was always excited for their bright smiles and eagerness to see them. 'Were you good for Daddy this afternoon?' She asked, eyes raising to meet Harvey's as he came to stand beside her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek in greeting, his hand warm on the small of her back as she felt her body relax at his touch and presence.
'Always.' Harper and Harvey replied, mirrored father/daughter grins climbing across their cheeks.
'What about you, sulky-face?' Donna reached for Grace's chin, her hand squeezing briefly before they turned to tickles, trying to crack an easy smile. 'Were you good? Did Daddy spoil you?' She knew the answers; Grace was always good, and Harvey would always spoil his daughters regardless of their behaviour.
'We went to Tiffany's!' Grace smiled, cheeks round and happy as she thrust the signature blue bag she had been holding towards her mother's face.
'Oh, my goodness, Tiffany's before ballet, you must have been very good.' She gave her husband a pointed look despite her wide smile.
'Perfect angels,' Harper supplied.
'What she said,' Harvey responded with another peck to his wife's cheek. 'We got you something too.' He knew that would sweeten her irritation if only a little. They were trying to make sure their children weren't spoiled brats, but it hadn't helped when Harvey carved the second their eyes light up with wonder towards anything in their line of vision.
'Oh, well, if you got me something too, I can't complain, can I?' She grinned, Harvey reflecting her smile with adoration in his eyes. He had once been terrible at buying her gifts, anyone for that matter, but in recent years he had gotten better and it warmed her every time. 'Are we ready to dance?' Donna asked, jostling Harper on her hip as she turned a grin towards Grace.
Both girls nodded their approval, excitement building up inside of them. 'Our slippers?' The girls had their leotards and their tutus, but the elusive ballet slippers had been left at home in the bag Harvey forgot to pick up on his way out the door. He thought he had it handled, thought he was being smart in dressing the girls before heading out, but he was unused to the routine and what was required on ballet days. She shoes had been forgotten.
'I've got them.' Donna reassured her daughter, finger pointing to the bag at her feet. Harvey picked it up as he put Grace down on her feet.
'I told you Mom always saves the day.' He ruffled Grace's curls, her hair bouncing around her head as she tried to ruffle through the bag for her ballet slippers. 'Ok, let's head inside and we can put these on, yeah?' Grace was already skipping ahead, leading herself into the building and the cubby's where she could leave her sneakers while she wore the slippers required for class.
Harvey took Harper from Donna, lifting the girl out of her arms before setting her on her feet and telling her to follow her sister.
'How were they really?' Donna asked, the two of them trailing Harper into the building. The girls could be a handful, even for her on the best of days. Donna just wanted to know that her daughters deserved the ice cream Harvey would offer them on their way to dinner.
'Perfect, honestly.' She felt his hand find the small of her back once again, thumb stroking over her spine. 'Although, is there a reason why Grace has to be right more than Harper?'
Donna shrugged, 'She got that from you'.
'I thought we had a little more time before the one-upping started.' He could remember arguing with Markus, picking fights, stealing toys and general teasing but he was sure they were older than the girls are now. 'This one isn't going to fight with them.' He said it and yet he knew better, his other hand reaching for her stomach as he rubbed the curve of their third child.
She chuckled, eyes alight with humour and a knowing smile. 'Oh, Harvey, he doesn't stand a chance with those two for sisters.' Her hand joined his, fingers grazing his knuckles before she wrapped her hand around his arm and pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
They sat like that while the girls followed their teacher around the room, Donna's arm entwined with his, her head on his shoulder, their fingers laced. The girls jumped and shimmied and twirled around on their toes, giggling as their tutu's bounced.
He needed to make more time for this. Donna, the girls, just being with them and taking part in their schedule.
The girls got ten minutes at the end of the lesson for free dance where the laughter of the small group of four-year-olds only increased as an energetic Taylor Swift song blasted through the speakers. He watched their broad grins, the joy shining on their faces as they jumped around the room, letting their little bodies move to the music. Harper broke away from the group, sprinting towards her parents as her little hands wrapped around her father's. 'Come dance, Daddy!' She giggled, pulling on his hands as her little body wiggled away from them.
Powerless, Harvey followed, Harper holding one hand while Grace came over to take the other. He danced with his daughters, the girls doing twirls at his feet, holding onto a single finger as they did so. He couldn't help but laugh, Harvey in his Tom Ford suit, dancing with his daughters and the other girls in their dance class. He could feel his heart expanding with love for them, the muscle clenching as it did when he found out about them and again when they were born. It was resizing, making room for another memory, expanding with his love for them. When Harvey looked towards Donna, ready to share his glee, she had her phone up, half obscuring her face as she recorded the moment they shared.
'Can you come every week?!' Grace beamed, sitting still beside her mother while Harvey knelt at her feet, lacing up her sneakers.
He wanted to. God, did he want to be there every week to watch them learn and grow but work wasn't always that simple. Meetings were scheduled, depositions had to be done, paperwork finished, trials to prepare for. He tried to be home; his secretary knew not to schedule him too late if she could help it. But that wasn't the job he had, a regular nine-to-five, where he could be home every day to spend time with his daughters.
'I'm going to make more of an effort, ok?' This time was fleeting, sure Grace would likely still with ballet until she was well into her teens, they would have recitals and competitions to attend, but this fun, this excitement of having their dad there, that time was limited. He didn't want to ruin it. 'Ready to go home?' Ray would be waiting outside for them already, ready to take them home for the evening.
Grace gave her father a nod, feet swinging with her shoes securely fastened. He picked her up in an easy movement, hoisting Grace on one hip as he reached for Harper to do the same on the other side. Donna rolled her eyes, a fond smile spreading across her lips at the vision of her husband, a daughter on each hip, cheeks still pink from dancing with them in their ballet class.
They had waited so long for this to happen, the marriage, the family, the life. It felt like if someone pinched them, they would wake up from an all too pleasant dream and it would all be over. No one had pinched him yet and Harvey was happy that they hadn't.
'Ready?' He asked Donna, making sure they were set.
'Ready.' Her warm smile touched him, setting Harvey alight with a love he never felt he deserved. Tonight, they would go home, cook dinner, bathe their daughters and put them to bed just as they had done every night since they were a few months old and like they would do for years to come.
#darvey#suits usa#donna paulsen#harvey specter#darvey fic#suits#harper specter#lily grace specter#harper and grace#darvey babies#it comes and goes in waves (and carries us away)
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The Princess & The Nomad (11)
With your hypnosis gone and your identity fully known, you and Steve reunite and pick you right where your left off. But with The Avengers disbanded and a new danger looming in the future, what’ll keep everything from falling apart?
Summary: After a quick birthday celebration, you and the others plan an impromptu trip to Norway.
Warnings: Mentions of previous smut, hints of Bucky x Reader? Final goodbyes
A/N: Sorry it’s been a while for an update, I’m jumping back and forth between this blog and my original pieces and looking into self-publishing. Lots of big things in the works. Also if you haven’t seen Message From the King you should, Chadwick does an amazing job in that film. Enjoy!
“How many hickies are you trying to give me?” You laughed slash moaned while Steve kissed and bit in random parts of your body
“One for every year you’ve been alive.” He kissed on your pelvic bone, the next spot for him to mark
“I’m 84.”
“Exactly, so let me continue before I lose count.”
“Yes sir.” Your fingers raked through his hair, watching him kiss down your body “Best birthday yet.”
“You made mine special, I’m returning the favor.” He bit down on your hip, holding you in place with his weight, you shuddered softly. When he was satisfied with his work Steve kissed up your stomach before lightly pecking your lips.
“You know we haven’t left this room since I got here. They might think we’re dead.”
“It’s not the worse way to go. And we did leave.”
“For thirty minutes, to find the kitchen. And you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” You nudged him with your foot, subtly reminding him of how carried away the two of you got when feeding each other strawberries. Ending up with the two of you hiding in the pantry, half naked and waiting for the guard to leave so you could return to the room.
“We’re lucky we didn’t get caught.” You started to move to the edge of the bed when Steve pulls you back into his chest “Steve-”
“I missed a spot.” He kissed on your shoulder blade
“We told Sam we’d hang out with them today.” You giggled and pulled away “It’s rude to decline an invitation the day of, especially without a viable reason.”
“I want you to myself, that’s reason enough.” Steve watched you move over to the full length mirror that sat in the corner. He smiled as you assessed the bite marks and handprints he left behind.
“Steve, I look like a dalmatian.”
He chuckled before he moved to get ready himself. Despite his not so subtle suggestion for taking a shower together, you didn’t want to run the risk of never making it out the room, so you decided to take separate showers. You watched Steve get ready, since you only had to shimmer on a new outfit, a long sleeved shirt, a scarf wrapped around your neck and long jeans, thanks to him.
“That’s not going to look suspicious.” He told you as you both walked back down to the study to meet everyone else “It’s the middle of summer.”
“Would you rather have me in a skimpy skirt and a low cut top, showing off?” You questioned jokingly
“If you wore anything of the sort, we definitely wouldn’t have made it out the room.”
“Holy shit, she can still walk.” Sam was the first one to open his mouth when you and Steve entered the study “And sporting a modest scarf, odd piece of clothing for summer in Wakanda.”
“My bikini is at the cleaners.”
“Happy birthday Kiddo.” Sam moves in to give you a strong hug
“Thanks Sam.”
“Didn’t think you two would show up.” Bucky said, leaning against the wall on the far side of the room “Guess I owe Nat fifty bucks now.”
“In American currency if you will.” Natasha smirked “Happy birthday, Rayna.”
It took you a second to remember she was addressing you. “Thanks Nat. Shall we go and eat, I’m starving.”
“Well you’ve been working up an appetite for the last two days.”
You all began to file out of the room back into the hall.
“Seriously, like rabbits.” Sam added “I pity who ever had the room next to yours- oh wait, that was me.”
“Sorry Sam.” Steve wrapped his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek.
“No you’re not. But you will be when Bucky and I tell (Y/N) all about the goat incident.”
“Stooping low Sam.” A light blush showed up on Steve’s cheeks
“What about a goat?”
“Apparently Stevie here missed you so much that he started having dreams about you.” Bucky started, trailing behind the group “Very vivid dreams, if you catch my drift.”
“So we’re camping out at Bucky’s place, resting as much as we can before we leave again. Steve, being the fossil that he is, fell asleep first. And starts talking in his sleep, calling for you.” Sam gestures to you
“I thought he was having a nightmare again, but when I looked up he was spooning one of my goats. And she was not happy about it.”
“Now the damn goat won’t leave him alone.” Sam laughed, you did your best to hide your amusement but failed horribly
“I’m sorry for laughing, but you have to admit it’s funny.” You said to Steve between giggles “I have tons of embarrassing stories from Asgard.”
“And you’re welcomed to tell us all about it over dessert.” T'challa greets you at the doors leading to a screening room. He reached for your hand to kiss it lightly “Princess (Y/N), happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
Fast approaching footsteps turned your attention to Shuri, who pushed her brother out of the way and wrapped her arms around you.
“Happy birthday. How are you feeling?”
Nat shot Sam a warning glare before he could say anything inappropriate. Steve did the same to Bucky.
“I feel great, no side effects that I know of so far.”
“I got you something.” Shuri reached into her pocket and pulled out a small gift box “Well I made it.”
Sitting inside the box was a bracelet made of round black beads with tiny engravings on them.
“They’re call Kimoyo beads, made from vibranium, they're multipurpose and have better reception than a cell phone.”
“It’s beautiful Shuri, thank you.” You slipped the bracelet on your wrist, they shift and secure themselves on your wrist so they wouldn’t move or fall off. You turn your hand over and the words ‘happy birthday’ shine from the beads “I just hope my powers won’t short it out.”
“It’s perfectly safe.” she assures you before turning to Bucky “Nice to see you again White Wolf.”
“Same to you Shuri." Bucky grinned
"Are you joining us for the movie?” Steve ask
“Unfortunately I have work to do in my lab, plus I am not old enough to sit in on adult conversations.” Shuri rolled her eyes
“Mother’s words, not mine.” T'challa argued “You will get your chance when you are older.”
Shuri mimicked her brother’s voice under her breath as she walked away, a guard right behind her. T'challa stood to the side to let the rest of you in the dimly lit room. The smell of food filled the room, over to your right was a table full of food complete with chicken and beef stir fry, dinner rolls, and few ribs and cesar salad.
“Whoa, you went all out Sam. I would’ve been fine with pizza.” You tell him
“I didn’t do anything.” Sam’s mouth was stuffed with half a dinner roll.
“My sister insisted, said that this should be a special birthday for you.” T'challa explained “Being back with your loved ones.”
“Oh now I wish she stayed.” You slightly pout “She didn’t have to do all this.”
“In her opinion it could’ve been better, but apparently someone ate all the strawberries that were going to be used for the shortcake.”
“Imagine that.” Steve gives you a small squeeze on the butt, you blush and bite your lip.
Everyone moved around the table, picking up different food to place on their plates. You end up drifting closer to Bucky by the crepes.
"So White Wolf? Is that what you're calling yourself now?"
He shrugged, setting down his plate to add more food "I kinda adopted it. I'm technically the black sheep here.... Well the white sheep."
"Do you like it here? You seem a lot more relaxed."
"Yeah, it's amazing. Everyone’s so welcoming, there’s little to no crime. And the sunsets are something out of movies." He gives you a friendly smile before averting his eyes again
"What's wrong?"
"Your scarf slipped." He reached up to fix your scarf back over a bite mark "Looks like everything between you and Steve is going good."
"Yeah, we said I love you for the first time."
He nods, examining a piece of broccoli. "Big step, possible wedding bells in the future?"
You blush and nudge him in his side. "I just got back, let's not jump to life altering choices."
"Alright. It's your day Princess- Rayna? (Y/N)? Which one are you going with?"
"Honestly, whichever you prefer. I have so many names at this point I’ll answer to anything.” you joke, sneaking a bit of frosting from a corner slice of cake
“Sure thing- Princess.” Bucky smiles before sauntering off to a plush chair in front of a large screen. Steve calls you over to settle in the seat next to him.
“So what are we watching? I have a year worth of movies I’ve missed out on.”
You all settle for a movie called “Message from the King”, even on their day off, Steve and the others never strayed too far from action. Although there was a lot of jeering when something unrealistic happened. Which was every twenty minutes. However, the film made you think of Odin and Thor, and how secrets tore you apart from each other, just like in movie.
“You alright?” Steve asks you, squeezing your hand
“I have another birthday request.” You tell him
“Please not here, don’t ruin the screening room with your non-stop super human, Asgardian sex-capades.” Sam looks at you with tired eyes
“It’s not that Sam. I want to go to Norway, it doesn’t have to be right now but the sooner the better.”
“What’s in Norway?” Nat asks, helping herself to another beer
“My grandfather, I want to see him.”
“Your grandfather, as in Odin?” Steve’s shocked expression spoke for everybody “The man who threw you out of Asgard?”
“Yes. He said we would see each other again before…” You looked back to the screen at the rolling credits, then shrug “I don’t know, maybe it’s a stupid idea. If he wanted to see me then he’d find me right?”
“You’ve met him already?” Bucky leaned in a bit from the other side of Sam
“Yeah, I sort of broke him out of a retirement home.”
“What do you get into when we’re not around?” Sam wondered
“I haven’t even got the chance to tell you about the huge python that nearly killed me.”
“The what?” Steve’s face grew pale
“Nothing.” You rub reassuring circles on his back
“You can tell us all about that on the way to Norway.” Natasha stood, Steve gave her a stern look “Clearly she’s made amends with him Rogers, don’t give me that look.”
“I think you should go.” T'challa chimes in “Family, no matter how dysfunctional, is all we have in the end.”
“Steve, I can understand why you don’t like him. But if he hadn’t cast me out then, I wouldn’t be here now.” You tell him “I’m going to say my last goodbyes to him. I’d like it if you were there, if not I’ll go alone.”
“After the year I’ve had, I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulders “Wheels up in thirty.”
“We can never have a normal week.” Sam muttered as he stood “I’m taking the dinner rolls.”
* * *
When Steve said he wasn’t letting you out of his sights he meant it, you figured that out when he had you sit in the co-pilot seat before the quinjet began to take off.
“Steve I still can’t drive a car, what in Norns sakes makes you think I can fly the jet?” You asked as he strapped you in
“You aren’t flying, I am and if you need to switch out with Nat then you will.” He assured you with a kiss on your cheek
“Enough, let’s get this show on the road!” Sam punched the roof of the jet, earning an annoyed look from Nat and Steve
You peaked out the window, over at Bucky who gave a small salute from where he stood, along with T'challa and Shuri.
“Why isn’t Bucky going? He’s not afraid to fly with me is he?” You wave back to them while Steve settled in. The last time you and Bucky were on the jet together, you had just tried to kill him thanks to Dr. Schmidt.
“No, he opted out of the trip, in case anything were to happen while we’re away.” Steve says “Buck doesn’t go on missions anymore. Not even small ones. Doesn’t want to risk- relapse.”
“Oh.. is he gonna be fine while we’re gone? I’d hate taking all of you away from each.” Tony was the first person to pop up in your mind, you promised to check in with him, told him he wouldn’t lose anymore family.
“Yeah, he knows we can’t stay too long to begin with, but it anything happens T'challa will get in contact with us.” Steve flipped a few switches on the console before the jet lifted off the landing pad on the ground
“So Rayna, how are we gonna find your grandfather?” Nat asks you once you’re out of Wakanda’s barrier
“I could ask Heimdall, he might know where my grandfather is, he sees all.”
“What do you mean?” Sam’s eyebrow lifted
“Heimdall was the bifrost keeper, until Loki falsely charged him for treason. He has the gift of sight, if he wishes to see you then he will be able to find you anywhere you are.” You explained
“Loki? I thought he was dead.”
“So did I, Thor still believes he’s gone.”
“When was the last time you spoke with Thor?” Steve was the one to ask this question
“Four months? Maybe five. He continued his search for the stones, he believes I’m still on Asgard.”
“Why didn’t you go to find him? Instead of come back here. I mean, if it were me I’d look for the person who could help the most.” Sam suggested
“The world may be small but the universe is infinite. Finding my father is like searching for an empty chamber during Ostara.” You laughed at your joke, the others looked around, confused “It’s…. Nevermind.”
You folded your legs into lotus position, and closed your eyes. “Heimdall, give me sight.”
You were by a creek this time, not too far from the marketplace in Asgard but still far enough so no one could see you. A light splashing drew in your attention, behind you Heimdall was kneeling by the creek, cleaning his face.
“Forgive me for the intrusion.” You tell him
“No apologies necessary Princess. Just glad you didn’t call an half hour prior, I was bathing.” He chuckled “You wish for new information?”
“Yes, I need help finding Odin. I know he’s in Norway, but I don’t know where exactly.”
“Unfortunately I am unable to locate him.”
“How is that possible?”
“Without the bifrost, I can only see so far. My powers are limited, and I will need them in the future.” He rose to his feet and began to stroll upstream, you followed
“But then how will I find him?”
“Magic, you did learn tracking spells during your time here correct?”
“Yes, but how will I be able to reach you? What if you need me? Or if my father is in trouble?”
“You are in tuned with every soul you meet, as Goddess of life and light you will feel if your loved ones are in danger.” He stared off to the distance “I must leave, use what you have learned Princess.” He paused “And I must apologize once more, for my wrongdoings against you.”
“There’s no need to apologize to me Heimdall. I have forgiven you.”
He nods solemnly “You really do look like your mother. Norns rest her soul. It has been an honor knowing you Rayna.”
“You speak as if this is the last time we’ll see each other.” He didn’t respond, only gave you a light hearted smile “Heimdall?”
You blinked and you were back on the jet. Steve was the first to speak, seeing the concerned look in your eyes.
“Did he tell you where Odin is?”
“No, he couldn’t. Without the bifrost his powers are getting weaker. But he said I should be able to find him on my own.”
“What’s wrong Ray?” Natasha asked when she saw your face
“I think that was the last time I was going to speak with him.” You wiped away the forming tear “I think someone found him.”
“I’m sorry Doll.” Steve reached over to hold your hand
“He was my last chance to find Thor, and protect my family. Last chance to return to Asgard.” You took a shaky breath, Sam was looking over the jet, his own paranoia setting in place. You felt his anxiety “I’m good Sam, just processing. The closer we get to Norway the easier it’ll be for me to find Odin. Maybe he can help me fix this.”
“I’m sure he can.” Natasha gave your shoulder a squeeze “Now about this giant python that nearly killed you.”
Taglist: @classybai @moisoverennyi-thestarlessone @floralandspice @bi-bi-bi-bisexualz @theonelittleone @grey-junior @marvelousbuckystark @captainsthor @sebbystanlover-vk @jovialcalzonepaperzine @chook007 @dontchawishyouknewhowtosalsa @geekysimmerthings @codename-buckybarnes @marvelfansworld @emmaschhh @bruisedfaye @mackyk06 @teamcap4bucky @paigeem96 @lily-horvitz @tshollandlove @nerdypisces160 @mrs-captain-evans
New tags: @imnotgonnafightyourwar @winnielinleigh @humongousflapcloudpatrol @tayya-esthetics @nickyl316h @seasaltbitch @lifeisalohaa @dragon--dragon @godlyyoongs @damngirl-youareincredible
#steve rogers#captain america x reader#nomad#avengers#bucky x reader#sam wilson#natasha romanoff#tchalla#shuri udaku#wakanda#asgard#thorsdottir#the captain and the culprit#sequel#message from the king#chadwick boseman#odin allfather#james buchanan barnes#heimdall#cacw#catfa
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poppy: body/role swap
A flower that blooms in the desert
Plance x Kallura Week 2018
A/N: Hi, I’m late to everything :) Also this fic is a continuation of sorts of this drabble. If you don’t want to read it, long story short, Allura needs to work on her quintessence wielding.
Mix & Match: There’s a little bit of you in everything I do
The first time Keith and Allura had swapped quintessence, so to speak, it was more than they had bargained for and they ended up seeing each other’s entire lives through each other’s eyes. It was a lot, it was overwhelming and it should have been a one time thing, but now they couldn’t help themselves. The addiction of feeling each other so intimately was real and they often stole themselves away to engage in this practice of cycling their life force into one another with Allura as the conduit.
Except this last time.
“It’s MY console!”
“It’s OUR console!”
“You helped get it for me! Me! Not you!
“I crawled into that damn fountain and nearly got arrested by mall police! That baby is as good as mine as it is yours!”
“That was a gift! You don’t try and take a gift you gave to someone else!”
“Ugh, can you guys please settle this?!”
Pidge and Lance had stormed into Allura’s room at the Garrison, completely ignoring the part where Keith and Allura were sitting on her bed, hands held in a meditative state.
“I’m the one who wanted the video game in the first place! It should stay with me!
“But you wouldn’t even have it without me!”
The two paladins continued to squabble over custody rights, and the fighting got louder and louder, and Allura’s eye twitched and her mouth curled into a scowl as parts of herself and parts of Keith were flowing in and out of her body and they wouldn’t shut up about this goddamn game and finally…
She just…
Snapped.
“ENOUGH!” Allura screamed and in the process, a burst of energy rippled from her epicenter and moved outward, knocking Keith back and sending Lance and Pidge into a wall before they slumped over onto the floor.
“What was that?!” Lance blinked as he came to.
“A reminder not to piss Allura off.” Pidge held a hand to her chest trying to catch her breath.
“I’m so sorry, is everyone all right?!” Allura looked over them with concern.
“We’re ok. I think.” Keith’s thoughts felt jumbled and he himself felt disoriented.
They dusted themselves off and nothing seemed immediately out of place so they chalked it up to just a random experience, an “Allura is doing her weird magic stuff again” and went to bed without giving it a second thought.
When Lance woke up the next morning he didn’t think he felt any different. Breakfast went normally and it wasn’t until he spotted Pidge in the hallway that he sensed something was off but couldn’t figure out why.
He had never seen her wear makeup since he’d known her, but here she was dolled up, hair styled and surrounded by a group of young cadets. She was chatting away, laughing, being playful.
“Scott was it?” She smiled while autographing a slip of paper before sticking a lipstick kiss on it.
Lance’s brow arched.
“I can’t believe we know THE green paladin of Voltron! Can we get a selfie?” The boy asked and the others nodded in agreement.
Pidge stood, nestled in her little harem and smiled at the camera being held out, hands formed into finger guns. There was something about this that seemed awfully familiar and the entire scene had Lance seething. First of all how dare she look this gorgeous so early in the morning and second, how come she never giggled and slapped his arm like that while telling him how funny he was? He stormed over and snatched her away just as they finished up the photo session.
“Ow! Chill much?”
“What are you doing?!”
“Making friends.”
“Flirting! You were flirting and frankly you should be ashamed of yourself, do you even know those boys?”
“No, but who cares, they know me.”
She took a compact out of her pocket and began checking her lipgloss. It wasn’t until she stared at her reflection that she seemed to snap out of her…whatever it was that had come over her.
“What am I doing?” She looked up at him.
“You tell me lovergirl!” He placed his hands on his hips.
Their conversation was interrupted by Pidge’s father, who approached them with clipboard in hand.
“Lance, Katie.”
“Hi dad.”
“Did you forget you promised to help us brainstorm options for creating a cloaking mechanism for the Atlas?
“Do a what for the what?” Pidge looked at him utterly confused.
“A cloaking mechanism for the Atlas” Lance repeated. “Realistically you have a few options. We could use optical camouflage or reduce temperatures of the outer surface of the ship to lessen electromagnetic emissions.”
Sam and Pidge stared at him, mouths agape. Sam’s glasses slid down his nose.
“What?” Lance shrugged.
“Lance you can barely remember what you had for breakfast, how the hell do you know about cloaking techniques?” Pidge asked incredulously.
Lance went to answer except, he wasn’t quite sure. It had sort of just rolled off his tongue naturally.
“Something’s wrong” Pidge blurted out.
“Very” Lance agreed.
Meanwhile Shiro and Hunk were sitting in the dining hall with Keith, gawking as they watched him eat. Not only had Keith come to breakfast with his hair neatly gelled and brushed back, but he was currently sitting with impeccable posture while cutting his pancakes into perfect identical pieces. A napkin was unfolded in his lap and after he took each bite he’d sip his juice delicately, never slurping, that was bad manners.
“Keith…”
“Yes Takashi?”
Shiro and Hunk glanced at each other before he continued.
“Is everything ok?”
“It’s splendid, why do you ask?” He smiled.
Another flicker of eye contact between the captain and yellow paladin.
“Nothing. You just seem…different” Hunk chimed in.
“Well I feel fine. Although…”
They both leaned in.
“Yes?” Shiro urged.
“It’s silly.”
“Just tell us.”
“Well,” Keith placed his fork and knife down on the table, “I’ve been feeling a little self conscious this morning. I woke up and I just thought…well my ears are just so ugly.”
Tears welled up in his eyes.
“Wait what?” Hunk nearly did a double take.
“They’re just so round!” Keith erupted into a blubbering fit, snatching the napkin to hide his face. “How will Allura ever love me with ears like this?”
He blew his nose into the napkin with a loud exaggerated honk.
Shiro’s face perked up while Hunk was still dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘how will Allura ever love you’?”
Keith realized what he’d just said and his face turned fifty shades of pink before he quickly got up from the table.
“E-excuse me, I have things to attend to!”
Shiro and Hunk watched him run out, not sure what the hell had just happened but pleased that they now had blackmail on the black paladin.
Keith darted out into the hallway when he nearly collided with Pidge and Lance.
“Keith! Thank god we found you. Are you feeling, y’know, ok?”
“Honestly? I just had a rather humiliating exchange in the cafeteria that I would rather not discuss, but yeah I’m not ok. I know it sounds crazy but I don’t feel like myself.”
“Oh my god us too!” Pidge grabbed him by the arms.
“Are you wearing mascara?” Keith sniffled as he dabbed his nose with the cloth.
Pidge quickly let go of him with a glare before quickly changing the subject.
“You guys don’t think this had anything to do with that incident last night do you? When Allura got all mad and did that little blasty thing?” She tapped her finger to her chin.
“The shockwave of concentrated quintessence caused by the princess’ momentary emotional outburst could be what’s causing the current abnormalities and changes in personality traits that we’re currently experiencing” Lance said nonchalantly.
Keith and Pidge blinked at him silently.
“What?” Lance looked at them, puzzled.
“Let’s find Allura. Now!” Keith shook his head and marched off with the other two in tow.
After asking around they finally found Allura in an empty hanger. She was climbing on top of a hover bike that clearly did not belong to her.
“Thank goodness we’ve been looking all over for y-”
“Are you stealing that?” Pidge pointed to the cruiser the princess was currently perched on.
Allura sat up on the bike. She had her hair down, some of it obscuring half her face. Her cadet jacket was off and tied around her waist, revealing the white fitted tank top she had on underneath.
“I’m not stealing it, I’m just taking it for a little spin.” The normal lilt in her voice was gone, replaced by a deeper tone dripping with attitude.
“Princess taking things that don’t belong to you is wrong.” Keith’s brow furrowed.
Allura scoffed and rolled her eyes before leaning over on the handle bars and narrowing her eyes at Keith.
“So then you don’t wanna ride?” She bit her lip.
“I’d love to” Keith blurted out, stumbling toward her before Lance grabbed him by the collar.
“Allura that blast you hit us with last might has us all messed up, you’ve got to fix this!” Lance pleaded.
The princess pondered his words. She had felt off all morning, and irritated, and every time she saw James Griffin she wanted to deck him in his chiseled jaw.
“Perhaps you have a point. Keith and I were in the midst of exchanging our quintessence when you interrupted. I may have accidentally exchanged all our quintessence.”
“Well can you put everything back?” Pidge asked.
“I’m sure I could…but I’m gonna go for that ride first.” Allura smirked starting up the bike.
“Are you serious?!” Lance yelped.
“Very. Coming?” She winked at Keith who was looking at her, utterly smitten.
“Yes!” He pushed Lance and Pidge aside and slid on behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle, holding her tight.
Lance and Pidge watched in dismay as they took off into the desert leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.
“So what do we do until they come back?” He pouted.
“Lay low I guess…” Pidge shrugged.
There was an awkward silence, before Lance spoke up again.
“You weren’t really hitting on those guys earlier were you?”
“Worried?” Pidge gave him a knowing grin.
“No! I’m just curious is all.”
Pidge giggled and patted his shoulder.
“You have nothing to worry about. My relationship with those guys is purely planetonic” she assured him before walking away.
Lance sighed with relief before his face twisted into a perplexed state.
“Wait a second, THAT’S NOT EVEN A REAL WORD!”
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Peloton news – Pride and prejudice
Deep breath.
OK, here goes.
I am prejudice. At times, horrifically so.
There. I’ve said it.
I feel better. Marginally.
Society today is becoming increasingly intolerant of any individual who dares transgress the firming social lines of the protection of the individual. And if the individual is in any kind of minority group, then watch out buster, say nothing or have your very being besmirched for being an out-of-date and contemptible individual. Cast out of the society you circled in and forever damned as being a sinner amongst saints.
Last week a cable TV show announced the annual winner of the ‘Funniest joke at the fringe’ award.
Every year I read through the top 10 and smirk at the inevitable, but usual amusing and witty contenders.
This year was no different.
An example of the type of top gaggery comes from the 2017 winner. Topical, as it came at the time of a new release from the Royal mint:
I'm not a fan of the new pound coin, but then again, I hate all change
Nice. A gag that has both a slight play on meaning and it topical.
This year’s winner was equally gentle in its bending of phrasing.
I keep randomly shouting out 'Broccoli' and 'Cauliflower' - I think I might have florets.
Now I read this at work one morning, and seconds later moved on with other things. A few days later and a casual glance at the BBC website and there was a follow-on story. This time Auntie Beeb has published an article about the annoyance that the Tourettes Society have felt at with this joke.
A prominent lady within the society voiced distinct disapproval;
“Humour is a great way of educating people - but not only is it not funny to poke fun at people with Tourette's, it's not even that funny a joke, is it?”
In the irony of all ironies, the Tourettes society were one week away from launching a campaign aimed at stopping the condition being a punchline in jokes. How d’ya like them fucking apples.
Now I personally think you’re treading a fine line by dictating what you can and can’t make jokes about. Clearly the old days of Chubby Brown and Jim Davidson are well and truly behind us. Humour used to belittle particular groups and minorities. It always left a nasty taste in the mouth. But not being funny because someone is in a minority group? Not such a clean-cut affair.
I find it almost unbearably funny taking the piss out of people who are different. People who don’t conform. Social groups are almost always driven by some sort of common conformity after all. Look at the Peloton. All centred around cycling and conforming to what that social circle deems acceptable.
Let’s look at a few examples of what happens when someone wanders off group alignment.
• JT rode a Cube FFS. And it was a triple! In the fullness of time he was nearly bullied into tears over that little faux pas
• RTA made the best repair he could to a pair of shoes that had given him particularly good value. Merciless haranguing followed
• Has Damo worn the famour winter ‘lobster glove’ since that particularly cold ride on January?
• Macca and the white ‘show the world your penis’ bib shorts.
Now none of the above makes any difference to the enjoyment of cycling. But they all made a helluva difference to the enjoyment of cycling on that particular day (for 7 out of the 8 riders at any rate).
But this is the thing. Comedic highlighting of group norm differences within the group, gentle isolation, then regular revisiting of past errors affirms group identity. And, it actually re-shapes individual behaviour and brings it back to group behaviour.
An interesting point to ponder is this. Should the individual who made the brave move away from group compliance, continue to do so without giving a merry fuck, would the group then gently steer towards him as a standard? Would his own confidence and ‘don’t-give-a-flying-fuckery’ actually position him as a standard setter…one to follow…?
It’s difficult to believe that the Peloton could, in some parallel universe all be riding about the place in white penis-flaunting bib-shortery… but you never know.
Thank fuck Macca is a social conformist is all I can think.
This behaviour however is inbred. It’s part of humanity. When it’s one of your own, it’s good natured and mistakes are to be pounced on with glee. They’re funny. And there is nothing quite as satisfying as being the first one to publicy spot a fellow rider’s error.
Outside the social group, the prejudices are all still there, but all sense of warmth evaporates. This is where my inner demons roam. This is where my critical and saintly eye turns on humanity from the comfort of my own stately glass house.
I have a broad expansive set of prejudices and as part of recognising who I am, I feel the need to unburden myself. Think of it as detoxing. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll be a better person. More accepting. Happier, dare I say it.
So, in no particular order, here is a summarised list of some of the things that really hack me off about people whom I don’t know who have the temerity to be different to me.
• People who ride bicycles with the seat too low. Every time of see one of these hapless fuckers I think exactly the same thing. ‘Not very efficient on the quads that…. And you could do with dropping a gear or two. That slow cadence is making is harder that it should be.’ My gaze lingers for a few seconds whilst I mentally shake my head. Now what difference does it make to me that ‘random station commuter’ is going to spend exactly 8 mins not being as absolutely efficient as he could be? Answer? No difference whatsoever. So why do I feel slightly annoyed by it? How is this man’s seat height affecting my life in anyway whatsoever?
• People who ride by pushing the pedals with the middle of their feet as opposed to with the ball of their foot. When I see this, I want to see justice delivered instantly, preferably by the police using a taser gun to stop the offender in their tracks before then shouting at the quivering and prone floor-bound body to ‘pedal that fucking bike properly’ and then going about lesser police priorities. An overreaction? I think not. If I’m with the kids and I see this social travesty I point it out them. Seriously. It absolutely boils my piss.
• Now this one is perhaps my all time, most heinous of heinous crimes against civilised society. I mean, when exactly did some people revert to living with the apes in that great troop on the savanna? Have we forgotten millennia of tool-making and using skills? One of the very few things I might add, that genuinely separates us from nearly all living creatures on earth. When sitting in a restaurant or pub for that matter, and I see a mature homo sapien, who can seeming talk. Seemingly dress themselves in a manner compliant with social norms. Who can order food. Who can pay for food. Who can interact with waiting staff with courtesy and conviviality. But, who can’t hold a fucking fork like you are supposed to…! I mean for the love of sweet baby Jesus… you’re holding the thing with thumb and three fingers (pinky redundant)…jabbing it down like a fucking chop stick…. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Why aren’t your parents at this very second, beating you to within an inch of your worthless life at your inability to grasp and use the most basic of tools in not just the right way, but the ONLY fucking way to use a fork!!! When I see this, I just want to shout ‘WANKER’ across the table and over my salmon and quinoa salad.
I had my annual BUPA health-check last week and no ulcer was detected, but I’m telling ya, it’s fucking coming.
This weekend I’ve been mountain biking with my eldest. I bloody love it. He bloody loves it. He’s new to it and the activity is nothing short of joyous.
Yesterday we went over to Holmbury St Mary and into some of the well-established MTB trails. Second time round I had a proper go at ‘Barry knows best’, a long swopping bermy 3 or so minutes which is just fabulous for the 2 beginners alike. This time though, whilst absolutely caning it and trying to set a time which my son wouldn’t beat (he did), I properly stacked it. Half way down. Came down hard and narrowly missed a tree. Very lucky really to only have a hurty shoulder today. After the event we went to the local pub and had chips and a pint. (Well, I did. Jnr had chips and a couple of glasses of coke. It’s like the Tenants super for the young generation.)
Outside there were scores of pretty serious looking bikes and bikers. They all looked different, but oddly the same. They all conformed to this particular group norm. I could tell my eldest was a little wary of being seen as a beginner. Neither of us where particularly dressed to ‘shred the gnar’ or whatever the fuck it is Macca says when he’s talking MTB mumbo jumbo.
I sat there and munched a chip. ‘Don’t worry about it son… I don’t care about them, we’re doing this and enjoying it. I don’t care what we look like. We have as much right to be here doing this as they do’.
Off we went, back to the car. I felt bruised. Jnr felt good following the Strava analysis. He’d come out on top. As we walked past a table of fellow diners I noticed the husband holding his fork the wrong way. Our eyes crossed. As I walked past I felt a sense of calm solidarity. He had every right to be there. Just as much as me. And if he insists on eating like a wanker, that’s his call.
Celebrate the commonalities, not the differences.
Hold that thought as the rag-tag peloton makes its way to France this year. Perhaps we will see more tolerance? (I bloody hope not).
Finally, for the first time in 5 years I rode with Clemo today. The Peloton’s favourite chippy and the most upright tax-paying citizen this country has seen has rediscovered his cycling mojo and is out on his bike.
Clemo and Amesy in Majorca fo G20? For the fist time in this edition, I’m not taking the piss.
Ride safely mon fuckerettes.
Hoppo
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Modern Family: The Wild (10x17)
Yeah, so... I wanted to like this episode. I was close to liking this episode. But it just didn't come together for me quite as much as one would hope.
Cons:
There were jokes in this episode that were just so painfully predictable that I kept waiting for a twist that never came. A group of people fail to build a crib properly, because the directions are challenging? You don't say! Gloria laments that she's turning in to a "white woman" and we get a bunch of cliche, predictable jokes about going to spin class, kale restaurants, and more. A group of men go out into the woods together and they end up talking about their feelings, because that's what happens on TV shows. It's not that there was nothing to enjoy in any of this, but for the most part it was pretty uninspired.
I want to drill down specifically on Gloria's little plot thread. The resolution involves her taking a paintball gun and shooting bicyclists, which makes for a fun image, but a really troubling statement about her Columbian identity. She's a "white girl" for most of the episode, and the thing that gets her back in touch with her Latin roots is... gun violence? Not cool. I also hated it when Claire announced that her insecurity had been solved, and Gloria remarked upon it in this kind of meta way, like she was acknowledging that in this plot thread, they each had a key insecurity that they needed to overcome. It was annoying.
One last note: there's a fat joke made at a random guy's expense, when Haley is mistaken for him by facial recognition because of how big she is now. That was stupid and mean-spirited.
Pros:
Within the somewhat lackluster premises and weak moments, there were a few little gems that I'll highlight.
For one, although Gloria struggling with being too "white," and Claire failing to build a crib were both cliche problems to have, I did like that in the background, Haley and Alex were dealing with their own insecurities that they overcame by the end of the episode. I liked Alex's random little driving mishap, and how she had to drive at the end of the episode to save the day. And while it's pretty superficial that Haley is so worried about her looks, it is true to her character, and it is pretty funny that her confidence is so boosted when she finds out that her looks are good enough to get her into a frat house.
The whole pizza delivery sequence was actually pretty great. It didn't really go anywhere or have any particular emotional resonance, but it did make me smile with how absurd and over the top it was. It's nice to see them going for some wacky situations, instead of keeping everything in the established sets. I liked the giant Minions, the poor delivery guy who Haley knows very well, Claire re-cutting the pizzas in order to make an extra... that was all pretty amusing.
The guys have a more emotionally resonant story. I'm not totally convinced that every beat lands, and some of it just straight-up doesn't feel earned. Like Mitchell having trouble telling Jay that he loves him, and then Jay saying "I know." That was supposed to be incredibly touching, I gather. It was fine. I didn't cringe at it, but it didn't really hit the spot, so to speak. That said, I did like the emotionally mature conversation they all had, where they revealed their insecurities. Phil is always so chatty because when he's quiet and alone with his thoughts, he starts to worry about something bad happening to his family. Cam is flamboyant because he knew he would never fit in, so he decided to take ownership in standing out. Mitchell is worried about early mortality, and thus hates taking risks, and Jay is worried that he's becoming a burden to his family in his old age.
Each one of these concerns feels true to the characters, and it makes sense of their psychology in a way that isn't exactly new or surprising, but still somehow feels insightful. Jay is a character that this show doesn't seem to know how to write sometimes, but this week was a good summation of his role in the story. He's still got lots of life left in him, but he's reaching a point where he's starting to worry about things with which nobody else in the family can sympathize. I also thought the part where Jay finally saw a bald eagle, but didn't tell the others so they could all come back the next year, was quite sweet, if perhaps a little bit too cheesy.
That's where I'll stop for now. This episode was a mixed bag for me. I didn't hate everything, but there were multiple aspects that left me feeling less than warm towards this show.
7/10
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Meet the Parent’s: Part One
A/N: Shoutout to @afraiddreamingandloving for the request. It took me all day because there were so many directions I could go. Ultimately, I hope you enjoy what it turned into. Part two will focus on Chadwick meeting CoCo’s parent’s again but, after they begin dating.
Word Count: 4.1k (Hella long. I’m sorry.)
Warnings: None
Meeting the parents is a special activity reserved for couples. There’s no exact time frame on when this ‘sacred’ meeting should happen but, it is necessary that the families involved at least belong to two people that had strong feelings for each other while being bound by the ties of a romantic relationship. While Chadwick and CoCo could check the box of having strong feelings for each other, a romantic relationship had not quite been discussed. In fact, they preferred to hide said feelings and function as inseparable companions on the campus of Howard University. Still, the discussion of meeting the parents had reared its ugly head during a Saturday morning breakfast in the kitchen of CoCo’s tiny apartment.
“My mama and daddy are coming up next weekend.” Chadwick casually introduced to the conversation. Trying to remain calm, you looked at him over your cup of apple juice as you took a sip.
“Oh, cool. So, are we rescheduling our movie outing? Because I can’t go again until Sunday afternoon. I have a softball game next Saturday and the team is going out that night.”
“Uh, we don’t have to. I was hoping maybe you would, you know, just hang with us on Friday. Then we could come see you play.” Chadwick’s statement came out as more of a question, accompanied by his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just-”
“Isn’t meeting your parents for like...girlfriends? I’m just me.”
Cocking his head back, Chadwick scoffed before addressing your comment. “Just you? What does that mean?”
“It doesn’t matter.” You stood to push your body away from the kitchen table. “You done with that plate or do you want more eggs?”
“Don’t try and change the subject.”
Ignoring him, you grabbed the styrofoam plate from its place in front of him and headed towards the stove to add more eggs to the dwindling amount that already existed. Still not satisfied with your answer, Chadwick moved to stand beside you with his back against the counter to see your face.
“You’re not ‘just you’, CoCo; you’re my best friend. You’ve been my best friend for 3 years. I want you to meet my family.”
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before looking at Chadwick’s concerned face. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet his family. Honestly, you’d dreamt of meeting his family, just under different circumstances. You wanted to be introduced as his girlfriend.
“Do you think they would even like me? I’m just a random stranger that happens to be friends with their son.”
“I know they’ll like you because they asked to meet you.” He beamed.
“What? Why would they wanna meet me?”
With that simple question, the nervous energy in the room shifted from your body to his. He was back to rubbing his neck before reaching out to pull his plate from your hand. “Uh, you know how parents are. They want to meet all your friends and stuff.”
“Yeah...right.” You were suspicious but, decided not to press the issue. At least not right now. Returning to your spot in front of him at the table, you decided to concede. “Okay, I’ll meet your family.”
Despite having a mouth full of food, an excited smile took a spot on Chadwick’s face before he extended his long arm and closed fist across the table for you to bump.
“My mama is gonna love you. Y’all act just alike.”
“You’re saying I treat you like my son?” you joked.
“You said it, not me!”
“Then give me my damn food!” Swiftly, you pulled the plate from his grasp and rushed toward the trash can to throw it out. Your attempt was useless once he caught up and used one hand to grip your waist and the other to pull the food from your hand.
“Okay, I take it back! I’m sorry!” He landed a chaste peck on your cheek before returning to the table. Silence settled over the room as he continued to eat and you prepared the sink to wash the morning dishes. “Besides, my mama would never put this much pepper in her eggs. Got damn, girl, are you trying to kill me!?”
_____________
The next Friday evening arrived quickly, bringing forth the moment that made your stomach churn in a nervous rumble. You gave your outfit and hair another once over in the mirror of Chadwick’s bathroom, sighing as you battled your inner self on whether what you had on was too revealing.
Your white Tommy Hilfiger t-shirt was cropped just above the waist of your denim skirt, the gold buttons down the front gleaming under the light of the bathroom. Your skirt stopped above your knees and offered the right amount of sporty chic to compliment your scrunchie socks and white and black “Taxi” Air Jordan XII sneakers. Your short hair cut had finally grown out enough to be styled in a pixie reminiscent of the style Toni Braxton and Nia Long rocked at the time.
“You look fine.” Chadwick complimented, scaring you enough to send your hand flying to your chest.
“Shit, Aaron! How the hell does your tall ass move around so quietly?”
He only shrugged in response before moving to stand behind you in the mirror and place his hands on your shoulders. Both of you stood there for a moment, stealing glances at one another and enjoying the comfortable feeling of being in such close contact.
“Don’t be nervous. They’ll love you. Especially my brother, Kevin. He’s gonna ask you for your shoes but, don’t entertain him.”
“Wait, your brother is coming! Why didn’t you tell me?” You groaned, allowing your shoulders to slump in defeat. You were already apprehensive about meeting his parents and, now, a third person was thrown in the mix.
Laughing, he gave your arms a gentle squeeze while lifting your upper body to an upright position. “You’ll be okay. You’re smart and funny when you aren’t talking shit. Plus, I’ll be there the whole time. If you start feeling overwhelmed, just squeeze my hand.”
An abrupt knock on the door prevented you from asking anymore questions. Chadwick excitedly grabbed your hand and practically drug you to the living room to welcome the bodies on the other side.
Once the door swung open, his family was revealed and sporting wide grins identical to his. The greetings began with his mother as she pulled his face down to meet hers and place a few quick kisses on both of his cheeks. Next was his dad, exchanging a handshake and hug combo.
“Who invited this scrub?” Chadwick joked, pulling his older brother into a hug.
“I’ll let you have that one since I haven’t seen you in a while. I see you still ashy.”
“He always is.” You mumbled while laughing, not even noticing that the conversation around you had stopped and four sets of eyes were now looking your direction. “Shit.”
“You must be Miss CoCo.” His mother smiled, walking up to get a better look at you.
“Yes ma’am. Well, Chadwick calls me CoCo. My name is Y/N.”
Suddenly you were pulled into a warm hug, melting away all of your previous nerves. “If Chadwick calls you CoCo then, so will we. We’ve heard a lot about you. He was right, you are a pretty little thing.”
“W-what?”
“That’s enough mama! Y’all ready to eat? Great. Let’s get out of here.” Chadwick’s words were rushed but still answered your question from earlier in the week. He had been talking about you to his family and, apparently, thought you were pretty? That didn’t make sense. Now you had more questions that would not be answered, evident in the way Chadwick crammed you into the middle of the back seat of his parent’s rental car.
“So, Miss CoCo, tell us about yourself.” His father questioned while looking at you through the rearview mirror.
“Well, I’m from Georgia, the Lithonia area to be exact. My mom is a high school Physics teacher and my dad is an ROTC instructor in the same school. I’m a business major and I minor in journalism.”
“Chad said you can ball. What position you play?” Kevin asked, giving you a once over to determine your position by your height.
“I slide between shooting guard and small forward depending on what coach needs. It’s usually shooting guard though.”
“How much you average? If it’s not more than 10, you not really hooping.”
“Kevin.” Chadwick warned, shooting him a stern look over your head.
“It’s cool. This season, I averaged 14 points a game. I sat out with an ankle injury for three games that brought that down a bit lower than I hoped.”
Kevin gave you a satisfied nod before moving his eyes to your sneakers. “How much you letting your shoes go for?”
“Kevin!” It was Mrs. Boseman’s turn to put an end to her son’s questioning. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. There’s always one in every family, right?”
“Oh, I know. My sister is the one in my family.” You laughed.
“Is she cute?”
“She’s 15.” Chadwick deadpanned. He was visibly annoyed with his sibling prompting you to lightly grip his knee and smile.
“It’s okay. I’m supposed to be the nervous one, not you.” Another smile in his direction was finally returned as his eyes lingered on yours a moment too long.
“Did you hear what I said, Chadwick?” His mother asked, smiling at the interaction in the backseat.
“Uh, no ma’am. What was that?”
“I asked if you’ve been eating okay. Do I need to cook for you before we leave so that you’ll have food for the week?”
“Actually, CoCo usually cooks a couple of times during the week so, I just eat there.” He responded while gripping your shoulder to pull you close to his side in a quick embrace.
“Oh, really? I hope my son isn’t eating you out of house and home. He’s skinny but he can eat!”
“Tell me about it! It’s okay, though. As long as he’s good, I’m good.”
Mrs. Boseman only offered a pleased ‘hmm’ in response, choosing to watch the buildings in downtown Washington, D.C. pass by through her window.
Soon, you all were walking into a local restaurant of Chadwick’s choosing to have dinner before the scheduled movie. Chadwick led the pack with his arm draped over your shoulder as he filled you in on campus drama not noticing the way his family whispered as they observed they way he acted around you.
He had always been a bit of a people person, making friends wherever he went but, his demeanor was different where you were concerned. His movements were loose and his teeth were always on full display. He listened intently when you spoke and found a way to touch you, even going out of his way to do so. You were his first priority at all times, always making sure you were okay before he worried about himself. This was evident in the way he pushed your hand away to open the door for you and made sure that he was able to position your body in front of his so that he could protect you in case a threat presented itself.
Even now, as you ran through your career aspirations with his parents, his eyes were trained on the side of your face with a love struck grin on while he rested his head on his clasped hands.
“So when you say you want to want to work in sports, in what capacity are you considering?” His father question in awe of your ambition.
“I’d love to work as a sideline reporter for the NBA but, I think my heart is in upper management. It’s time for a black woman to make the important decisions.”
“Isn’t she great?” Chadwick mumbled, his lips betraying him and uttering his private thoughts.
Everyone gave him a curious look before returning to the tabled conversation.
“She is great.” His mom smiled, obviously aware of her son’s feelings.
“If you so cool, how’d you end up being friends with this clown?” Kevin snickered.
“He harassed me into being his friend for two days before I caved in.”
“It only took you two days though so, clearly, you wanted to be friends with me too.” His smug smile made you playfully roll your eyes and take a sip of your water to keep you from smiling.
“Are you seeing anyone, CoCo?”
“Daddy, that isn’t re-”
“I’m not but, Chadwick is. Have you told them about Tameka, Aaron?” You laughed silently at the sight of Chadwick’s death glare in your direction before he addressed his parents.
“Tameka? Who is Tameka? Will we be meeting her this weekend, too?” His mother inquired.
“Yeah, Chad, are they meeting Tameka this weekend?”
Him lightly kicking your leg under the table did nothing to stop your line of questioning. You could only imagine how upset his girlfriend of six months would be when she found out that you spent a weekend with his family before she did. As if there weren’t enough reasons for her to dislike you, this one was sure to end in an altercation.
“Uh, no. I don’t think so.”
“Well why not? I thought you said we were meeting people that were important to you.”
“You are. She’s sitting right here.”
When you brought up his girlfriend, that was the last response you were expecting. All eyes fell to you for the second time today as you nervously pushed food around on your plate. A knowing smile was on his mother’s face long after the conversation shifted to talk of the Eastern Conference Semi-Finals. She simply nodded in your direction, alluding to some bit of information that you weren’t privy to. With no opportunity to find out, you decided to let the thought pass and join the conversation.
____________
“Alright, Y/N, we need a run right here! Get us a run!”
You moved anxiously on your toes, anticipating the sound of the softball cracking against the bat and signaling you to dash for home. The Howard University softball team was tied with Georgetown 3-3 in the bottom of the eighth and desperately needed a score to create some distance between the opponent and add another game to the win column before the playoffs.
Lacey, your teammate, stood tall with one ball and two strikes and prepared herself for the pitch. Another swing and miss would end the inning and give the visiting team a chance to snatch a win, sending the Bison into the locker room with a.500 regular season record and tougher road to the championship.
Your mind locked in to the task at hand as you listened for the connection between ball and bat. Winding up, the pitcher tossed a fast one toward Lacey who simply smiled and knocked the ball into far right field, sailing past number 4 and giving you the chance to run like hell toward home plate. All sounds took a backseat to your heart thumping against your heaving chest and the sound of your cleats hitting the dirt below you.
“You got it, girl!” Chadwick yelled, standing from his spot on the crowded bleachers and cupping his hands around his mouth to create a makeshift mega phone. “They can’t stop you!”
He was right. Though the Hoyas had managed to scramble and retrieve the ball, it was far too late. Your long legs had carried you past the player stationed at home and to the final win of the regular season. You brought your hands behind your head to open your chest and catch some air before you were bombarded by teammates tapping the top of your helmet to congratulate you on the score.
Looking to the stands, you found Chadwick and his family giving you a proud thumbs up bringing a small smile to your face. Your family wouldn’t be in town until the first round of the playoffs making the feeling of having his family cheer for you special.
After you were showered and dressed, you happily emerged from the locker room to greet your “fans”.
“Chad said you were fast but, he ain’t say how fast. I never seen anybody move like that in person!” Kevin exclaimed while extending his hand to dap you up. “Are you that fast on the court too?”
“Faster!” Chadwick interrupted, answering the question for you and pulling you into his chest for a hug. “I’m proud of you. Leave it to you to win the game.”
“Thanks. You helped me with my swing, too. Coach said it looks way more fluid than earlier this season.”
He only nodded and released you, sensing his mother’s smile at the length of the embrace. As a unit, you all began to walk towards the parking lot to go your separate ways. Chadwick, Kevin and Mr. Boseman walked ahead and engaged in a spirited conversation leaving you to walk in stride with Mrs. Boseman.
“So, CoCo, have you and my son ever dated?”
If not attached to the inside of your skull, your eyeballs would have rolled out of the socket due to how far they opened at her question. “No ma’am. We’ve only ever been friends. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve seen Chadwick be fond of young ladies before but, never like this. You seem to have a...different effect on him.” You continued to walk and take in the information, not wanting to read too far into her words. Sensing how uncomfortable you were, she grabbed your hand to stop your motions. “He likes you but, my son is hardheaded. He likes to learn the hard way. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. But, I’ll say this: do not wait on him. You’re a beautiful girl with a good head on your shoulders. If he won’t make a move then you do what’s best for you. Do you understand.”
“Yes ma’am. I understand.”
She placed her free hand over yours and smiled at you, one which you returned. “In the meantime, tell me more about this Tameka. Is she anything like you?”
“Well-”
“CHADWICK!”
All heads whipped towards the far end of the parking lot to focus on the brown skinned girl that emerged from the beat up 1996 Acura Integra coupe.
“Speak of the Devil.” you mumbled, picking up the pace to join Chadwick’s side and, hopefully, de-escalate the already embarrassing situation.
“I went by your house! I went by your job! Hell, I even went to that damn theatre looking for your ass and you were out here playing big happy family with her!”
“Woah, Tameka, calm down. I told your roommate to let you know where I was. I’m here every time there’s a home game. You know that.”
“And that’s the problem! You are always with that and not with me!”
“Excuse me?” You’d already dropped your duffle bag in the unlikely case you would need to defend yourself. Getting into a fight in front of his parents would erase any positive assumptions they had about you but you wouldn’t be disrespected.
“We’re not gonna do this out here. If you wanna talk in private, I can meet you at your room in about an hour. But we’re not going to argue in front of my parents.”
The mention of his parents caused her to freeze and observe her surroundings. “Your parents?”
“Hello, Tameka.” His mother greeted, looking from her to Chadwick with a disapproving look.
Sheepishly, Tameka waved back without a word and slowly walked backwards to her car but, not without shooting a look in your direction and addressing her boyfriend for the final time. “You have one hour.”
Her tires screeched against the worn asphalt as she peeled out of the parking lot and out of sight. Looking to his mother, he was met with solemn head shake and a firm grip on his shoulder from his dad. “We need to talk, son.”
Chadwick groaned at the implications before grabbing your bag from the ground and handing it to you.
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to put you in that situation.”
“It’s whatever, Chadwick. As long as she doesn’t put her hands on me, we’re good.”
“Can we at least talk about it after breakfast, Sunday? You’re still coming, right?”
“Yes but, only to see your parents. It’s nice to not have to look at you eat everything in my house for once.”
Sharing a laugh, the all too familiar lingering stare draped over your bodies. If not from the obnoxious behavior of your teammates making kissing noises and hollering out of the window, you probably would have stayed in the position forever.
“Go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He urged, slightly pushing you towards the group. When you reached the vehicle, you took one last look behind you to find Chadwick still watching you, a faint smile playing at his lips before he lifted his arm to wave at you. “Bring her back in one piece. She’s got plans in the morning.”
“Will do, Chad. Should I have her back by 10 PM and tucked in to bed, too?” Jasmine mocked from the backseat.
“Let me worry about tucking her in. You just make sure she’s safe.”
The whole car filled with amused chatter as you slinked into the passenger seat and hung your head in embarrassment. Chadwick watched the car until it was out of sight before taking a deep breath and turning towards the car that he was supposed to be in. The hard part had just begun and, judging by the expression on his mother’s face, he was in for an earful.
______________
Sunday morning’s breakfast at Chadwick’s went off without anymore awkward appearances from disgruntled girlfriends. Conversation flowed freely and, if anyone were casually observing the group, the would probably assume that you were part of the family.
Unfortunately, the good times had to end, and the dreaded walk to the car made you more sad than you had anticipated.
“See you later, CoCo. Next time I’m in town, we’re going to a club or something. I gotta see how you really get down!” Kevin announced pulling you into a platonic side hug.
“You got it. Just tell me when to be ready! I’ll even pay for your drinks all night.”
Mr. Boseman was next as he jokingly pushed your outstretched hand aside and engulfed you in a hug. “Carolyn and I wanna see you at the house one Sunday. This city food ain’t good enough for us Southern folks. Let us feed you the right way.”
“I’m looking forward to it, sir!” You gushed at the thought of soul food on a Sunday afternoon and spending time with the rest of Chadwick’s family.
“Well, Miss CoCo, it was nice to finally meet you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again and, hopefully, under different circumstances.” Her eyebrows rose with her smirk, alluding to the conversation from just a day ago. “Remember what I told you, baby. He’ll come to his senses one day. You keep living your life.”
Her voice was hushed to keep the conversation between you two before she pulled away from the hug to give you a wink.
“Let’s go, woman. We got a long way to drive with this knucklehead in the backseat.” His dad, hollered from the driver’s side.
After one last hug, the Boseman’s were on their way back home, leaving Chadwick to bore a hole into the side of your face with his big brown eyes. Looking over, you found his signature goofy smile greeting you.
“What are you smiling at, ashy?” You scoffed while turning to go back inside the house.
You were stopped by his long arms wrapping around your upper half and restricting your movements. “I told you they’d love you. You thought I was lying.”
“Okay, you were right. But, do they love me more than they love Tameka?”
Your snide remark was not lost on him as he released you from the bear hug and looked down at you. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“I mean, I ain’t Comic View funny but I can tell a few jokes.” You boasted, popping the color of your Howard t-shirt.
“Oh yeah? Let’s see how many jokes you can tell on the front steps!” He gave you an evil smile before he took off running towards his front door with you hot on his heels.
You attempted to catch up to him but, his long legs were too much to keep with. He reached the door before you, slamming and locking it before you could wedge a foot in the doorframe.
“C’mon, Aaron! I’m sorry. I got some lotion out here! You know you need that. Let me iiinnnn!”
TAGS: @njadont @k-michaelis @wakandanmoonchild @idilly @texasbama@afraiddreamingandloving @inxan-ity @daytimeheroicsonly @thiccdaddy-mbaku @onyour-right @brianabreeze @sisterwifeudaku @ironsquad@killmongerdispussy @90sinspiredgirl @killmongersaidheyauntie@willowtree77785901 @maynardqueen101 @heyauntieeee @halfrican-heat@purple-apricots @lalapalooza718 @blue-ishx @profilia @ljstraightnochaser@girl-wtf-lmao @dramaqueenamby @royallyprincesslilly@melaninmarvel @lavitabella87 @purplehairgawdess @unholyxcumbucket @airis-paris14
#chadwick boseman x you#chadwick boseman#chadwick boseman imagine#chadwick boseman fan fiction#chadwick x reader#chad and coco#black panther fics#black panther fan fiction#black panther fiction#black panther#black panther fanfiction
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Miraculous Ladybug 2x16 Troublemaker *Commentary*
I’ve done this five? times. And some people like it. But I’m doing this simply because I find myself funny. And I need to empty my brain. So, I hope you guys enjoy my brain dump.
Ok. To start off, Thanks so much to @wild-mare-of-prosecution for giving me a link to this episode. Second, The Incredibles was awesome. 😊
Disney in Spanish? FB page is Russian? Episode in English? Wow, so multicultural.
21 minutes and two of those will be intro and credits? Sigh.
Who’s the villain again? Cuz this white dude seems like every villain in every movie ever.
Why is the mayor supervising the hotel? See? This is why the city is crumbling!
I don’t pity her because she signed up for that job. EVERYONE knows that’s how shity it is.
How French with all the kissing and lack of personal space.
Yo. Those posters make Jagged look more Jagged. That black shirt thing makes him look hot. Stop it with the 80’s clothes. Go simple and awesome.
I wish I had subtitles.
This show is about finding wives, right?
Fill my shoes?! What? That’s an entirely different show, and a bad name.
Only because he likes his adopted niece, Marinette. Also, those lace gloves are. . . (doesn’t want to say but can’t help it) delicately feminine.
I agree Sabine. I agree.
Every homemade show like this that has real like people, they always look and sound completely out of their element. That’s how you know they’re not actors. Also, Marinette, stop being such a fangirl.
She uses the same stress reliever I do. It’s pretty annoying during exams. It annoys even me. But it also calms me down.
When. . . when did he make … the guitar? And … how? He . . . sucks … at … baking….
There’s signal.
Also, I know Asian people can be smaller than average, but this is a joke.
Holy FUCK! I thought they were going to put on Careless Whisper for a second there!!!!
Sabine knows, Penny does the same shit as Marinette.
Who is Adrien excited to see? Jagged, or the croissants?
MARINETTE? NOOO. No way. Adrien -Just a friend- Agreste, did not just say that…
*sings* Juuuustt aaaa . . . . friiiiiieeeeeeennnnddddd!
TOM HAS GREEN EYES? Girls really do go for their fathers.
I paused, and fucking shit, that hair on Tom looks so real -the beard-.
Marinette’s clumsiness deserves an award. That was impressive. Minimal effort too. 9/10
Upstairs and vague? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
… What’s with her screen saver? Did she have her computer recording Adrien while they were playing video games? That background is her room. I know someone else said it, but these are badly recycled screencaps. That could have at least made plain backdrops and they would have been believable.
If Marinette spent as much time finding where HawkMoth is as she does with collecting Adrien, Paris would be safe.
Play “Spot Random Pictures of Nino”, is fun. Which brings the question, they made random pics of Nino and they couldn’t do that with Adrien?
Adrien is dabbing in one of them.
After a throughout analysis of the pictures in Mari’s room I’m making the theory that Snapchat exists in their world and Mari just screenshots and prints Adrien’s feed.
Penny is so uncomfortable …. So am I. I don’t want to press play.
Plagg, you little shit.
Wait, how big is that house?
HOW BIG IS THAT HOUSE, THAT THEY HAVE TO REUSE THE STAIR ANIMATION?
ANOTHER FLOOR?
It would have been hilarious if Jagged had been dressed in the dress he’s holding. “Here I am modeling a Marinette original. Am I better than this model boy? I am a better model, aren’t I?”
R E S P E C T. ‘You heard the lady.” Well done Penny.
At least no one made a comment about her period. Also, is completely fair and about time she fucking put them in their place.
HOW DOES GABRIEL RUN A COMPANY IF HE SPENDS MOST OF HIS TIME WAITING IN THAT ROOM FOR SOMETHING TO HAPPEN, SO HE CAN DRAMATICALLY OPEN HIS WINDOW AND BE BAD?
Anime background again. Attack on titan?
I hate to admit, but I would have had the same panic attack. Social media is a bitch.
From that angle her hairstyle looked completely different and Mari looked more Asian.
What a strange lighting, it changes her eye color drastically.
“Plus, its too late already. The show’s live.” *marinette panics and looks at the camera* SOMEONE MAKE A GIF OF THAT AND SEND IT TO ME, ASAP! THIS WILL BE ALL I TEXT FROM NOW ON.
Sabine is a tiger mom and I L O V E IT! Also, Tom appears to be slightly intimidated by the tiny tiger mom.
Sabine is the best mom in the world. Tiger mom, kung fu mom. Caring mom. What else? Ultimately the most B A D A S S MOM IN THE WORLD.
Does… all of Paris have that same security system from Gabriel’s mansion? If so, why was Gabriel so confused by Chat knowing that that mansion had a security system?
What are you talking about? It’s perfect. You are already at the scene of the crime.
Adrien… that was lame.
What if Plagg only likes croissants because it reminds him of Tikki cuz she lives there… I’ll leave that one there for you guys.
Chat… You’re lucky you’re cute.
NO WAY HE LANDED LIKE THAT.
Sometimes I forget he does call her Bugaboo, and that’s not a head cannon.
No. I love Bugabo-
…. What if that was Astruc asking the fans to stop calling her Bugaboo?
Huh? My cat senses are tingling!
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Why is Ladybug offering Chat Noir a tour of Marinette’s room? Why is Ladybug so uncomfortable of anyone seeing the pictures? Shouldn’t that arouse Adrien’s suspicion?
When teens hide pictures under their bed is because they do a solo bow-chick-a-bow-wow with them. Marinette has hit puberty. I don’t judge.
*Double checks Mari’s ‘porn’ stash* Adrien boxes?
JESUS CHRIST! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY PICTURES? AND WHY ARE THEY HIDDEN?
Nope. Concussion.
No way she’s that fast. Is ladybug frozen?
*Careless whispers plays in the background as LB and CN hold hands*Fun fact, I actually sang it as it was happening. I don’t kid when I say these are things I say outloud as I watch them.
This is a cool shot. I like it. The focus thing? I like it.
How does he dream it? Does Adrien also write fanfiction about how it will happen? Is Adrien hidden amongst our fanfiction writers?
Are you kitten me, Chat? You are gonna judge her?
Hahahaha, Like a gun. That’s funny.
What detective movies do they watch?
So they glued her to Ladybug…. And they earrings too? Does that mean Marinette can never take them off now? Wouldn’t it be smart to also do that to Chat?
Penny: “What… what happened? Where’s Jagged?”
Ladybug: “What happened? You fucked up my room, my life, and almost my secret identity! That’s what happened?”
Chat and Penny: O.O
Ladybug: “…. I mean…. You’re always so helpful…~”
How… she… she’s gotta stay. A…. and he gotta go….
Chat: “You’re the girl of my dreams.”
Ladybug: . . . . fuck off *pushes him off the balcony*
Smooth LB, smooth.
He’s British right?
Now that! That sounds like real Paris. I like that background sound.
NILYA!
…. This . . .. this looks a lot like that little joke I wrote a few months back…..
Also, Adrien, your sneaky chat is showing.
Adrien looked mad at Mari interrupting him. Adrien, your chat is showing.
Ok. The animation of their eyebrows was soooo exaggerated that they looked angry when they are supposed to be like …. Concentrated, or confused. Make those eyebrows smaller.
THIS IS INTENSE! ADRIEN IS GETTING SMART . . . AND SASSY!!
JUST A FRIEND MY ASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHA 8D I AM SO NOT PANICKING AT ALL!!! HAHAHAHAH -Marinette
Adrien your douche is showing.
Also, Adrien, shut up Chat noir. Adrien doesn’t know she hides them under her bed and sofa.
J U S T A F R I E N D
Mari’s boobs got bigger. Yes. I did notice. And if there is continuation to that I’ll accept it. She is in puberty.
Isn’t… isn’t that a parallel to another scene? It feels similar to the umbrella scene. The angles.
Tikki did us a favor of reminding us that Marinette is getting better at talking to Adrien. Thanks Tikki.
I just now realized the page I’m in is not facebook. But it looks like it.
----
I.... really like this episode. Ok , so here’s the deal. My brother got a microphone. If you guys want I can record these. Truth is, a lot of my commentary gets lost because of typing. I’m fast, but not THAT fast. I could try and do it like cinema sins. And it could help bring back the timestamps. Your call. :)
Thanks for reading.
#ml commentary#ml spoilers#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug and chat noir#marichat#marinette cheng#marinette and tikki#adrien#adrienette#ladrien#adrien x marinette#adrien agreste#chat noir#ladybug and chat noir#adventures of ladybug and chat noir#ladybug#LadyNoir
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Not An April Fools Gag; That’s A Game Boy Advance With A GameCube Stick Affixed For Reals
What you're seeing is a modded GBA that I spotted on eBay. It's a real thing! Though it doesn't magically grant analogue control to all the digital input only games on the system, which is all of them for the record (sorry). Then again, it could be argued that the controls in WarioWare Twisted is technically analogue...
That aside aside, welcome to yet another recap of stuff posted over at the Attract Mode Twitter! Though this time it's gonna be a bit on the short side, relatively speaking; even I know covering two entire whole weeks has led to hard to handle Tumblr posts, so I'm going to try concentrating on just one week at a time/attempt weekly updates.
Let's see how well that goes...
Hey, it's SF2 IRL thanks to ARKit (via prostheticknowledge)...
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At the time, when I first tweeted about it, there were only three left of Amanda Visell’s Player One Mario; no idea how many there are now...
When you can make a decision regarding lunch (via @Mechazawa)....
If you appreciate both the ease of slip-on sneakers and the taste of ghosts, then Games Glorious has something for you (via miki800.com)...
As a connoisseur of video games on the printed page, it is my goal to one day own a copy of Namco's newsletter that was distributed in game centers during the 80s & 90s, NG (via miki800)...
Remember that time Namco got someone from Yellow Magic Orchestra to hawk their wares (via namcomuseum)...
Both in print and on TV…
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The YMO member in question, Haruomi Hosono, also did a Xevious remix album, which longtime readers of the blog will hopefully recall.
Sticking with Namco CMs, there’s a pair of longtime faves that I could have sworn I’ve already posted as well, yet cannot find. Though as noted, many times already, the search functionality here is broken.
So here’s a boy playing with his Famicom in the middle of the woods...
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And here’s a girl playing with his Famicom in the middle of the woods...
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Back to the subject of print, can’t seem to find any info on the Futabasha Fantasy Novel Series, which (I think) was a line of video game novelizations; this one appears to be written by the creator of Xevious himself (via shmups)...
The focus here is supposed to be the Lawson’s reward card with Kirby on it, but I am all about that Space Invaders whatever the heck it is (via miki800)...
Spent MANY hours at Japanese bookstores during my college years, flipping through Sega Saturn Magazine; seeing these VF Kids ads again makes me feel all warm & fuzzy (via thesegasource)...
This (what I believe to be a) farewell image of the face of the Saturn from the very first issue of Dreamcast Magazine, also gives me the feels (via oldgamemags)...
BTW, everyone knows the identity of Saturn's pitchman (Segata Sanshiro), but what about the Mega Drive's? (via yokosuka87)...
Back to the Saturn; I love how Sega want from Segata Sanshiro to Hidekazu Yukawa for the Dreamcast. This launch edition of the console, btw, was spotted at VideoGamesNewYork...
It's also where they Kira Kira Star Night DX for twice the asking price, as @gamespite)...
Speaking of music, to fully enjoy this animated gif of Eggman running…
… you need to have this song playing (via lunaticobscurity).
And to fully enjoy this image of Eggman on the sax…
... you need to have this song playing (via very-territorial-oak).
@ondoruragitan sez: "whoever designed that clown lady in ace attorney is probably the most horny artist to ever exist" (it's funny cuz it's true)...
So the big news these past few weeks, especially among video game folk my age, has been the end of the Toys R Us. Many have been sharing artifacts from the glory days, with my fave example being these old flyers, with the obvious highlight seeing all the original MSRP prices (via retrogamerblog)...
Oh, and don’t forget the gifs (via nintendroid)...
The following are more appropriate for my way, way overdue batch of game culture snapshots, but since we're on the subject of retail anyway; I recently stumbled across Nintendo's collab with Bloomingdale's that I had no idea even existed...
Took a bunch of pics, but unfortunately, due to the harsh lighting at the SoHo store, it was impossible to capture the women’s section, hence the abundance of men’s wear...
These women's sweatshirts are the best example of the line's overall design sensibilities, or lack thereof; it’s just a bunch of random Nintendo sprites on attire that is available at Bloomingdale's, period. That's all it aspires to be, nothing more...
... And that's a real shame, cuz aside from the quality of the clothing itself being high, some of the ho-hum looking designs could be really engaging with a few minor tweaks, like this b&w women's jacket with a very random assortment of b&w Super Mario World sprites...
In addition to clothing, you had accessories, like iPhone cases...
Plus sunglasses, which revealed Super Mario World playing on what appears to the naked eye to be a blank, white screen....
Speaking of Super Mario World, here's a hamster enjoying the game (via @kousuke_teppei)...
The lil guy also owns an original Famicom, and here we is playing Solomon's Key (thanks to @Topherocious for helping me to identify the game)...
Being that friend who is REALLY into video games means I'm asked a wide variety of questions from folks who are not, like why @beesmygod is "freaking out" over a Sonic & Garfield two pack for the PC...
... I'll be honest, I don't really understand why either.
Here we have a mockup for an ad blocker that replaces banners with GBA screenshots, which I really want to see happen (via @tinycartridge)...
I also really want to see this happen too (via @truongasm)...
Back to Tiny Cart; that's where I found out that you no longer have to play emulated Tiger handheld games sans backgrounds...
Nothing beats a pic of a dimly lit arcade, especially when it's shot on ACTUAL film (via mendelpalace)...
As for this particular arcade show, @kappuru theorizes "it looks like cinestill film, or a filter designed to mimic it." (via parkerwoods)...
"WHO IS THIS NUN?! WHY DOES SHE LOOK SO SINISTER?" is a great KOF related question (via vice-s-assistant)...
And "BOWL BEFORE ME" is a great KOF related gag (via brondeef)...
"this is the best cosplay i’ve ever seen" is a a great costume play related observation made by lunaticobscurity...
"how to get away with playing super mario odyssey in class" is the caption given by retrogamerblog...
"Stardew Valley gave me 500 characters to use as my farm name, so I put down an entire 1-star amazon review for an Independence Day DVD" is the explanation given by @NoahHafford...
Hey, you never know, maybe one day a homebrew dev might make “Shinjuku-Nichome Gay District Serial Murders” a reality? (via mendelpalace)
When you’ve got one copy of Melee with two boxes, and one copy of Air Ride with zero boxes… just gotta improvise (via stellatuna)...
When you’ve got a killer Game Genie code but no paper to write it down on... and then you discover the code does something totally different (via theassortment)...
And when I asked what this 4koma featuring a Dreamcast VMU was all about, @JonahD was kind enough to explain: "VMUs are playing hide and seek, Black is seeking. One VMU thinks hiding in the controller would be good but it makes a bunch of noise and they’re found immediately" (via posthumanwanderings)...
Whereas I have yet to find out what all these Sonics are doing at a German airport (via sonicthehedgeblog)...
I normally don’t let the weather get to me, yet the constant cold weather in NYC over the past few weeks began taking its toll, to the point that I’m starting to resemble an upside down Super Famicom/European SNES (via sixteen-bit)...
I also really wish I could have checked out Sakura-Con, and not just cuz the weather is so much nicer in Seattle, but to pick up @alexisparade's Monster Factory zine...
I stared at gif illustrating the wacky perspective-related behavior of Super Mario 64’s trees for an entire day, no joke (via suppermariobroth)...
Here we have the rarely seen alternate angle of the internet famous "LAN party gamer duct-taped to the ceiling" photo (via reddit.com)...
Turning the clock back even further, here's yet another kind of party, one that doesn’t involve first person shooters but shoot ‘em ups; it’s the 1986 Hudson Caravan (via videogamesdensetsu)...
Recently, a modded NES Max controller showed up on Kotaku, in which the cycloid nub has been replaced with an analogue stick...
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... Which actually appeared the day after I spotted that modded GBA at the very top of this page. I am also willing to admit the disappointment over my tweet not catching on as expected/hoped it would, hence why I'm sharing another pic...
At any rate, I was also reminded of my buddy Nick Santaniello's modded Jaguar controller, which allows for arcade perfect Tempest 2000 controls...
... Which in turned led to me republishing the post from which it hails from originally, my recap of Nick's Shmup Appreciation Night, for Medium (and also sharing additional pics on Twitter)...
BTW, for those wondering, based upon the last round of tweets; the kitchen isn’t just for playing old Mega Drive & PC Engine shmups… you can also play old Naomi fighting games (via internetflexin)...
Guess that's it for now? Sorry, but it finally feels like spring in NYC, and I feel the need to step away from the computer & enjoy weather! Just like Mega Man (via arcadequartermaster)...
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