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finntheehumaneater · 3 months

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(one day I’m) gonna cut it clear

have this sad stuff I wrote last night to try and cheer myself up :)

(Sorry for any mistakes this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook proper :/)

TW: mentions of past trauma and paternal abuse

The first time that Eddie had cut his hair short, he had been eight and messing around with his mom's fancy brass scissors—the ones where the blades were a beak She used him to cut string from her quilts, and to trim his uncle’s hair when the man wasn't out in his boat. Eddie had used them to chop his hair off, watching The long brown curls fall onto the rug that his dad had bought as a wedding present for his mom.

It was rough and scratchy. Probably cheap, too.

He sat there on his knees, one hand curled around the scissors, the other feeling through his choppy strands, staring down at the loose hair on the floor.

His dad had hit him for that, grabbing him by the arms and shoving him into his room with a sharp “the hell were you thinking, girl?” before he had locked the door.

Eddie had cried all afternoon, begging to no one, because he was sorry and he didn’t want his hair short anymore. Because he had cut it to stop people from calling it pretty but he knew they still would. Because he didn’t want to be trapped in the suffocating Georgia summer heat that was seeping in through the windows anymore.

When his mom had come home from Auntie Lacy's house—not his real aunt, but she got sad if Eddie didn't call her that, seeing as how she was close enough to family as is—he still remembered how broken she had sounded, finding Eddie laying on the wood floor in just his underwear, tucked away in a corner, panting.

She had drawn him a cold bath, hushing him softly when he complained about the cool water.

“My baby,” She had whispered, her accent seeping through her words. It wasn't like the southern one that she put on for his dad—some kind of Eastern European that he couldn't remember. She never talked about where she came from

"Your hair was so pretty.”

Eddie had turned to press his face into his mom’s palm, whimpering, “Don’t want it short anymore. M’sorry, mama, m’sorry.”

She had fixed his hair after that—made it look more even and neat. She had let him curl up in her lap afterwards, the bird scissors on the coffee table and the chopped strands gone from the rug. Her thin fingers pet through his hair—but there really wasn’t anything to pet through anymore, just gentle touches smoothed over his scalp, kisses pressed to the lop of his head where he could nearly feel her lips.

"It will grow back, iubirea mea," She assured him, rocking him in her arms as his fingers dug into the folds of her white dress. She smelled like cinnamon and sunscreen, and that incense that Auntie Lacy always burned. "It will grow back, Edith.”

"Eddie," He had whispered, his words unsure and choked as he closed his eyes and waited for her to hit him—to lock him back in his room with his bolted windows and stiff mattress.

But she just kissed his hair again, taking nis hand and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

"Eddie," she agreed, holding him tighter when he sobbed and nodded, her fingers soft and warm against his. “My sweet Eddie. My baby."

The second time his hair was cut he was thirteen. He had cried the whole way to the shop, gripping at the hair that fell just past his shoulders, like if he held on tight enough, it wouldn't have to go away.

“Stop crying,” his dad had snapped, his hands tight on the wheel of his Chevy truck. "If you wanna be a boy so bad, then fuckin’ act like one. Gonna look like one soon, too.”

He pulled Eddie out of the car. “This’ll show you. I ain’t raise my girl to be no fuckin’ queer,” he spat. “That was all that bitch’s doin’, ain’t it? Good thing she’s gone.”

“Don’t talk about mom like that,” Eddie sobbed, barely forcing the words out before he had stumbled backwards, face stinging and red from where his dad had hit him.

“She ain’t your mama no more. Ain’t that right, girl? Now fuckin’ get in there and tell the lady you want it all gone, or I ain’t letting you out of your room for a week,” his dad threaten, grabbing the collar of Eddie’s shirt. “A fucking week, you hear?”

That was the day that Eddie had left with Wayne for Indiana. His dad—no, Al, he wasn’t Eddie’s fucking dad anymore—hadn’t cared that Eddie had left. He had probably told all of his drinking buddies that “the other bitch is finally dead,” just so no one who might miss him in the town would go looking and bring him back. It would have only been Auntie Lacy. He still missed her sometimes.

Wayne hadn’t minded that Eddie didn’t want to wear the dresses or the skirts that he had packed from Georgia—took to buying him jeans when he had the money for something extra.

He had saved up for two years, working extra shifts and on holidays, so that when Eddie turned sixteen he could take him to the doctors and get him the stuff that made his voice drop. Eddie didn’t remember what it was called—hadn’t been able to hear the doctor over the ringing in his years from how hard his jaw was clenched as he tried not to cry in front of her and Wayne.

“Gonna get you fixed,” Wayne had said on the ride back to the trailer, and Eddie had laughed, but it sounded more like a sob.

“M’not a dog, Wayne.”

He had let Wayne do the shots, since anytime he tried to do it himself, his hands would snake too much.

“Haven't even done it yet, boy," Wayne muttered, his face annoyed, but his tone soft and sympathetic. "Just breathe."

Eddie did, but he had still flinched away again, just one more time.

The third time it was cut would be soon, if Eddie could just force himself to fucking man up and do it. He had just driven back from the antique shop down the road, bought those scissors he had seen nestled in between the old watercolor tins full of white chalk sticks and the black and white photos of men in long coats and hats—women with their hair up in a portrait studio, loggers standing on the planks stuck into trees as they worked, children sat on stools and chairs with dead-eyes.

They were bird scissors, brassy-brown and shining, still sharp. Like his mom used to have.

He looked out at the trailers he drove past. Two mail boxes until home. His stuff was in the back of his van, all the important stuff anyway, packed away into three boxes. Three.

And then he was home, into the house and then to the bathroom. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. And maybe he was crying. He was so fucking sick of crying.

His arms ached as he stretched the scars to reach up and grab a strand of hair, cutting. It was only an inch or two off the bottom, on a piece that he could easily tuck away and hide, but he still broke down—dropping the scissors and sobbing into his hands as he sank to the bathroom tiles on the floor.

He didn't want to cut his hair, but he had to. And he didn't know why he had to, which made him cry harder—hysterical sobs and gasps that no one but the nearly-empty shampoo bottles strewn sideways on the drain on the shower floor could hear.

He sounded like he was dying.

Maybe he was.

He Knew what it felt like to die — to have the skin ripped away from his insides, his body bloody and aching.

This hurt worse

It hurt worse than the hell he had been through.

It hurt worse than hearing Steve cry and break over him in the hospital, when his body was too sore to move—to cradle him gently like his mom used to do, brush a hand over his hair and whisper gentle names in a language that he didn’t know—a quiet "just breathe, my baby. Lucrul meu dulce. You can be sad, but don't let it choke you. You can cry, but don't let it make you forget how to live. How to breathe. How to smile."

Eddie pulled himself up, dragging himself out of the bathroom and over to the phone on the wall in the kitchen.

He spun the rotary, hearing it whir and click after each number. A number he had whispered to himself night after night until he was sure he wouldn't forget it. But now his brain was fogged as his breath caught on a whimper, and he couldn't remember if it ended in a six or a nine.

Six. He spun to a six and watched it move back, the phone gripped in both hands as it rang.

“Hello?” And Eddie sobbed again at the sound of Steve's voice.

"Hey," he choked out, willing his voice to be level and his breathing to be calm, but to no avail.

‘Baby," Steve breathed, and god, Eddie didn't think it was ever possible for him to grow tired of hearing Steve call him that. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Eddie shook his head as an instinct, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw set, strained words coming out as he spoke again. "Need you to come over. Want to cut my hair.”

"Your hair?" Steve parroted back, his voice unbelievably soft, so soft that it made Eddie's chest ache a bit inside.

"Yeah."

Steve didn't ask why, even though he knew that Eddie's hair was important to him. He did offer to do it for Eddie—being the one out of the two of them who was more knowledgeable on the subject—but Eddie declined, saying that he needed to be the one to do it himself.

“I just need you to be here when I do it," Eddie whispered. He would have asked Wayne to sit with him, but Wayne was at work, and Eddie wasn't supposed to bother him unless it was an emergency.

He knew that Wayne would have come straight home if he had called to ask, though.

“I’ll leave now, alright?" Steve whispered. “Ten minutes, You go rest, get yourself a drink. Whatever you need to do baby, then I'll be there. Promise.”

“Okay" Eddie whispered, and even though Eddie wanted a reason to procrastinate this further, he hung up the phone, listening to the dial-tone sound off for a few minutes before shuffling over to the living room and pressing his face into a scratchy pillow.

He tried to calm his breathing while he waited for Steve.

Should I make a part two? Maybe?? If you guys want??

Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi

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my-soupy-brain · 11 months

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Pasta Water

Summary: You follow Ted home after you see a blow-up with Beard, and decide to lend a hand to soothe him.

Warning: Fingering, intercourse (m + f) Smut: OH THERE IS SMUT Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader (F) ----

Ted was finally taking a much needed drink of water after a couple too many pints at Crown & Anchor. His fight with Beard left him a little shaken. And Roy had thankfully prevented him from stepping into the ever-confusing London traffic. With Roy gone and Ted alone with his thoughts, he sat haphazardly on his sofa, legs apart, hair disheveled, taking down a second glass of water to get his bearings.

It’s not that he’s drunk. But a little too tipsy for his comfort? Sure.

And a little too tipsy and alone with his thoughts? Feeling a bit sorry for himself? Definitely.

A knock at the door jolts him from his thoughts. “Who could possibly be…” he murmurs, getting off the couch and going to his door. He’s almost ready to shoo away anyone who’s there, until he turns the handle and opens the door to see it’s you.

You. Wonderful you.

Your eyes look worried. His face relaxes. “Uh, hi, Ted. I’m sorry for interrupting. I just saw you at the pub earlier and you looked… not yourself,” you start. “I just wanted to make sure you’re OK.”

He takes a breath and smiles lightly.

“Yeah, uh, I’m alright. I ain’t perfect, but I’m alright,” he says, feeling a little more vulnerable with you.

You, wonderful you, he thinks.

Ever since you started at Nelson Road, he’s felt so seen. You’re warm and friendly, always with a smile and a glitter to your eyes when he sees you. You always ask how he’s doing. How his day is going. No one really seems to ask him that much anymore.

But you see how he is always there to support everyone else. His smile grows, thinking about how last week you brought him a cup of coffee just the way he likes it, adding, “I can’t drink that brown garbage water, either.”

Months went by, playful chats and maybe a flirtatious glance or two between you but nothing more. He worried you weren’t interested. “Why would she be?” he thought dumbly.

But oh, how you smiled. That damn smile. It lights up the room when you greet him with it. “Ted?”

He snaps out of his daydream. “Oh, I’m sorry y/n. Do ya, uh, wanna come in?” he asks, stepping aside from the doorway. You nod and accept, climbing the two stairs into his apartment. He offers to take your jacket, which you oblige, revealing a cute black dress underneath.

He whistles. “My, my, did you have a fancy night out?” he asks, admiring your figure. He suddenly regrets it, worried he took that a beat too far. But you blush and smile. “No, ah, I just… I was out on the town for a bit. Felt a bit lonely, thought I’d see who was out,” you reply, walking around his apartment, looking at photos of him and his son, Henry.

He watches you with a smile. It feels good having you here. Like you belong here.

“I’m sorry you were feelin’ alone. You coulda joined me at my table,” he offers, curious why you didn’t if you knew he was there. You turn to walk toward him. “I saw you and Beard, and it looked tense. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I thought I’d give you some space before checking on you,” you reply, tucking hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry you had a bad night. Need a hug?”

You open your arms to him and he’d be one helluva fool not to accept a hug when he’s feeling like this. So he does, leaning into you, wrapping his strong, warm arms around your back. “Thank you,” he mutters into your hair. You run your hand along the back of his head, down the nape of his neck, and he sighs a little at the gentle touch.

When he pulls away, he almost… no, he can’t. He can’t.

“Do ya want somethin’ to drink? I’ve got… some beer, whiskey, or… ah, this day-old pasta water?” he jokes, holding the pan’s lid, a tendril of hair falling over his forehead.

His eyes are dark and wide, and in the light of his kitchen, he’s never looked…sexier.

You’ve always had a crush on Ted. His amicable smile, the warm way he greets you and everyone he meets. He’s always a little blushing when you’re around, you noticed, but you just chalked that up to his Midwest aw-shucksness.

You’re staring. You’re staring!

“Y/N?” Ted asks, quirking an eyebrow at you. You smile, coming back to reality. “Yeah. Yeah! Whiskey sounds good,” you nod with a smile. He turns back to his cabinets pulling down two small tumblers and putting a little splash of whiskey in both. You follow him back to the living room on the sofa. You hold your glass out to cheers. “To bad nights but good people,” you offer, not sure what you mean.

“To bad nights but good people,” he replies, his voice low and husky. You both take the swig easily. It’s smoky, it makes you feel warm. You can’t help the giggles that erupt while you lick the whisky off your lips. His eyes are on you as you do. But before you can start to think a moment further, Ted is closer to you.

“Thanks…uh, for coming over, that was mighty nice of ya,” he stutters. His eyes connect with yours, and the crinkles at the sides make your stomach flutter. But then they go back to your lips.

“I’m happy to. I couldn’t leave you be, I…care about you too much,” you admit boldly, rolling the glass around in your hand. Ted smiles, and you hear him let out a little whoosh of air before he says: “Can I…may I kiss you?”

The timbre of his voice making your body clench. You nod. “Yes.”

He leans in and kisses you sweetly, his lips tasting like whiskey with yours. You trace your tongue along his lower lip, and his tongue joins yours, deepening the kiss. But then he pulls away. “I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, flustered. “I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to… oh, shoot…”

Before he can stutter another apology you grab his hand. “Ted, Ted. It’s OK. I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you admit, blushing, tucking hair behind your ear. “I’m so glad you took the leap first,” you offer with a genuine smile. “Can I kiss you again?”

He nods and smiles, his eyes darting from yours to your lips. You meet his lips once more.

And oh, the feeling of his big hand on your waist, the other cupping your face, you could melt right into the carpet. He holds you so gently, so tenderly, just as you imagined. You touch his face, too. The slight stubble he has, smiling against his lips and his mustache tickling your face. You deepen the kiss and hear a low moan from the back of his throat, sending shockwaves between your legs.

Your hands naturally move to his hair. That thick, lovely dark hair he always has perfectly styled, except on breezy days on the pitch. You tug it gently at the back and his hand travels up your side, slowly, inching toward your chest. When he makes contact with your breast, you sigh against his lips and it tells him he’s on the right track.

His hands are large and warm, like you always imagined. The hand cradling your face now holds the small of your back, his other massaging your breast and sliding up your neck to your hair. You can’t help but moan.

“Does…does that feel good, doll?” Ted asks with a husky voice, and you let out a happy exhale and smile, mumbling, “Ye…yeah…it does…feels so good…”

His body jolts, kissing you harder as you fall backward on the couch, your hands now clutching his gray sweater to bring him with you.

Your heart is racing, blood rushing everywhere. Every nerve is brought to attention by his touch.

The way his hands feel on your body — up your hips, to your waist, to your breasts and then holding your neck gingerly while he devours you with his lips — make you inadvertently gasp his name between breaths. When he does the same with your name, your entire core clenches.

The feeling of his cock tented behind his pants makes you hungry and desperate. Your hand skates down his chest, his stomach, to palm him and the size is…breathtaking.

“God, darlin’, if you keep at it, I’m not gonna be much fun,” Ted murmurs with a low voice to your lips, closing his eyes and groaning.

You arch your back up into him, and his eyes are dark as he watches your cheeks blush and your breathy sighs. He dives back in to kiss you, and your fingers comb through his hair, your nails scratch lightly down his back. He sighs your name when his hips grind against yours, and you can’t stand it anymore.

You start to button your dress, letting it fall off your shoulder, revealing a lace bra underneath. Ted’s eyes are trained on you, watching each new inch of skin exposed as you slip the top off your body.

He can’t resist, his fingers trailing inside the cups of your bra, brushing across your nipple as you coo his name. His mouth kisses down your neck, to your collarbone, to the soft pillows of your breasts.

“You’re so gorgeous, sugar…” Ted murmurs, his lips still occupied. One thrust against him and he groans, both of you at a fever pitch.

“Bed…bedroom?” you ask in a plead, your body arching into his. When he stands and pulls you up to his chest, your lips meet again as you stumble to his bedroom, never separating.

He leans you down on the bed, his hand still around your back, his knee between your legs.

You sneak your hands between your bodies to finish unbuttoning your dress. His hands push it off your body and he sits back on his heels to marvel at the sight.

“My goodness, darlin’…” he says with a deep sigh. “Look at you…”

You sit back slyly, letting him take you in. His hands skate up your legs, to your thighs, which he pushes apart gently, his eyes trained on yours. The blush is warming your cheeks, the way he’s looking at you, but you refuse to look away. Your arm instinctively wraps over your middle, suddenly self conscious in the moment.

“No, no,” he says, shaking his head with a smile, his dimple apparent on his cheek. “No, please don’t hide. You’re… just beautiful, sugar…” He moves your arm off your middle, his lips kissing down your chest, to your belly, and back up. All while his long, warm, deft fingers graze your center over your panties, making your back arch at the contact.

He watches your body writhe on the bed, your cheeks blushed and rosy, your eyes rolling back. “So…responsive…” he murmurs, almost in awe at having this kind of effect on you.

Your hips buck at his touch and he is overcome with lust. He leans over you, between your trembling thighs, and kisses your neck. Your hands crawl under his shirts - so many layers! - to his warm skin and you purr at the sensation. He pulls the neck of his sweater off behind him and over his head, your fingers make quick work on the buttons of his undershirt.

His plain white undershirt is next and you don’t do anything with that, instead, letting your hands and nails lightly scratch down his back underneath it. You make your way down to his waist, unbuckling his brown belt and unbuttoning his pants.

He moans into your ear, feeling your hands so close to his hardness again makes you whimper, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck, nibble his ear…

“Oh, s-sugar, you’re… ughh…you’re making me…” he can’t get the words out. Your fingers pull down the zipper of his pants slowly, his thick, heavy cock jutting out from behind his boxer briefs. As you palm him again, he bucks his hips against you.

“I think we need to take care of this, coach,” you whisper coyly, kissing his ear again. He nods furiously. Kicking his pants off. You hook your panties under your fingers and start to slide them down when he stops you.

“Let me,” he begs, his breath deep and heaving. “It’s like unwrappin’ a present I’ve waited for…”

You let him work your panties down and kick them off the bed, a pile of clothes accumulating on the floor of his bedroom. You pull the shirt off his body. When he returns to you, he throws the sheet over his back as he settles in between your thighs, tilting to the side so his fingers can work over your slick sex. He slides a long, warm finger inside and you clench around him.

“Oh darlin’, I think you’re ready…” he groans, watching your hips buck against his hand, sliding another finger inside. Your hips can’t stop moving, your breath coming in shallow as the lust rockets through your veins. He watches you with a smirk, completely enamored that he’s the one who gets to do this to you.

“God, Teddy… oh, God…” you muster, your cheeks blossomed red as the arousal takes over. When his thumb brushes over your clit your thighs quiver. He does it again, and again, your fingers clutching the sheets in one hand, the other clutching his shoulder. You come quick and hard, crying out his name. He watches with wide eyes, smiling at the feeling of your channel clenching his fingers. “That’s my good girl… there she is,” he whispers while he presses his palm to your center and leaning down to kiss you on your slack lips, still moaning through release. “Let’s see if we can go for two.”

Before he changes position, you grab his hand and lick your juices from him, making his eyes roll back. He holds your thighs open as he moves closer, sliding on protection and stroking his cock against your aching clit before sliding it just a little inside. He watches himself disappear inside you and sighs your name with a deep drawl.

As he works his way in, you arch your body to accommodate and his hand slides under your back to your shoulder, pressing himself as fully inside — and you take all of him. You sigh his name as you kiss his shoulder, his head buried in your neck for a moment before he moves his hips.

“Oh…ffffffuck,” you sigh, never feeling more filled and more turned on in your life.

As he leans into you, he murmurs, “Gosh, honey…you feel just how I imagined…”

The thought he wanted this, too — that he’s thought about this like you have — sends you careening toward an orgasm. Looking up at him makes you dizzy. He’s so masculine and lovely, his broad shoulders and chest, hair scattered across it and down his belly. You bring his lips back to yours to kiss him, your hands touching everywhere you can reach.

The smiles and moans you share between your lips is beautiful music. His bed squeaks a little and you hold back a giggle, hoping Ms. Shipley isn’t home. Not that you care. Nothing could stop how you’re moving together in rhythm, your hips meeting every thrust he delivers.

“Does that feel good, sugar?” he asks with a deep voice, low and breathy near your ear and you nod, kissing his shoulder and neck.

“God, yes, Teddy… I’ve dreamed about this for so long…” you answer, and you feel him groan your name, his cock growing harder inside you at your admission.

You can’t help but tangle your fingers in his lovely hair again. Your legs climb higher around his side, encouraging him to push harder, deeper, farther. His big, warm hands hold your hip and thigh, and when he looks down to see your soft flesh in his hand, he moans.

His big, dark eyes and expressive eyebrows show you he feels good, but with one motion of your hips, his eyes darken more, completely overtaken by lust. Your bodies get closer, his chest to yours as he pushes slow, deep. Nowhere to be, no one to answer too — just the two of you in unadulterated pleasure.

Nothing compares to Ted. Nothing.

Any sex you’ve had before this was with immature boys. Fast, shallow thrusts and porn-like expectations that left you unsatisfied time and time again. But Ted is a man. He aims to give you pleasure first, to make it last, to praise you, and make sure you know how beautiful he finds you. He doesn't need to toss you around like a ragdoll, no. He knows how to move his body, his hips, where to slot his hand between you to stroke your clit. “You feel so perfect wrapped around me like this,” he says with a low voice, directly to your lips between kisses. “You take me so well…” A sigh escapes your lips as your eyes roll back, and Ted watches you with another smirk. “Mmm…please don’t stop…” you beg, biting your lower lip.

“I won’t stop, honey. I’m not stoppin’…” he shakes out of his lips before they inch lower on your body, down your collarbone, between your breasts, and to your perked, taut nipples.

So help you God, the feeling of his lips and mustache and stubble makes your body shake. When he moves his hand between you to stroke your clit again, you fall apart. Your fingers clutch his shoulders, you squeak and wail and a string obscenities and praise leave your lips.

Ted’s face is buried in your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your ear.

“Oh, there you go, sweetheart…keep going, I can feel you — you feel so good for me,” he answers with a low voice that makes your body clench again.

Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, his hair usually neat hair falling over his forehead, his lips quirked as he smiles at you, kissing your lips. Your hands tangle in his hair while he moves in you, your body pliant and relaxed from release. The smiles you share as you move together make the both of you light up. Little whispers, moans, sighs, while hands touch everywhere they can reach. His hands are on your hip, under your shoulder. Yours holding his biceps, stroking down his back… “You feel better than I dreamed…” you whisper to his lips between kisses. “Best ever…”

He moans your name at that, tucking his head against your neck again, his hips pushing harder against you, a little faster. You can tell you’re onto something. “Mmm… Teddy, you’re perfect, perfect…” you add, your hand coasting through his hair. He moans again, speeding up, going deeper.

“God, you’re so deep…” you add, cooing in his ear. “I've never felt this good before...”

The praise. The little noises you make. Your breath. Your hands. It’s everything and he returns to your lips to kiss you, moaning as his hips stutter and he spills into you. You work him through it, your hips slowing with his as he cries out your name with his thick Kansas drawl.

When he raises up to look at you, you’re all smiles.

“That was…incredible,” is all you can muster, your chests breathing hard for air. He kisses your cheeks, your nose, and then your lips as he leans down to hold you in his arms. The feeling of his body between your legs, laying on top of you, is everything you’ve wanted it to be.

“You’re incredible, darlin’,” he answers, his nose bumping yours as you kiss gently. “So…” you add, giggling. “So…” he replies, his eyes smiling. “What’s next for us?” you ask, connecting your eyes with his. He kisses your lips lightly and smiles. “Sleep, and then I’m gonna make my new girlfriend breakfast,” he answers, his eyebrows raised and hopeful. Your heart melts. “I’d love it if my new boyfriend made me breakfast…”

You both fall into a fit of giggles as you kiss and hold each other under the sheets.

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso x reader #i had to get this whole scene out of my head because i just love ted so much #and you know he's good in bed - WE ALL KNOW THIS #thanks for reading #ted lasso

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the-faceless-bride · 11 months

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It's was 'just a prank' pt.3

<- Part 2

A/n: I just had a cool idea as to how I can use the Poll options so you guys can help sway the story so it kinda feels like you're playing the game. 🙂🙃🙂 let me know if you guys like it, if not I won't use it in future chapters

Emily and Matt had left after Emily blamed Matt for losing an expensive bag of hers and she dragged him along with her to go find it, Sam had decided to take a bath after being in the freezing cold.

Josh had sent Chris and Ashley off together to find a spirit board he had laying around somewhere, while Everyone was gone you and josh had a soft silent conversation. Filling time waiting for the others to get back, that's when your conversation was interrupted.

"Alright, Josh! Let's see if you know how to hook up the hot water in your big ol' fancy lodge!" Sam teased as she made her way from the bathroom to you and Josh.

"oh yeah, it's just down in the basement. Y'gotta fire up the boiler," he said as if she knew how to do that, after a moment he realized that she couldn't possibly know how to do that and jumped up saying he'd help, Sam turns to leave to the basement and Josh turns to you, "wait for Chris and Ash Babe, don't start without me." you smile at him and nod your head as he gives you a twink, turning on his heel and following after Sam to help her.

You sat in silence looking around the lodge as you think about the long night ahead of you, your thoughts interrupted by Ashley making her way towards you and sitting on the couch awkwardly, "so..." she started before she was cut off, you both heard a scream.

What was going on?

You rushed to the basement door and pulled it open, but nobody moved. Then Chris pulled down a dark cloak from his head and said "mhm you just got munked!"

Sam didn't find this funny, She yelled at Chris for his low-blow prank before turning to Josh and accusing him of being in on it.

You slightly huffed, Josh didn't do low-blow pranks. His panks were always more intricate and complex than a simple chase in dress-up.

You all made your way to the living room, Josh teasing about how Sam, "totally pissed herself," and Sam huffing in annoyance.

Sam "had enough spooks for one night" and left to finally take that hot bath, while you, Josh, Chris, and Ash set up to use the spirit board.

You and Ash both took turns asking questions and things took a turn quickly...

"S-i-s-t-e-r --"

"Sister..."

"no! No no no we didn't kill them it was just a Prank! We didn't mean-"

"you know what... This isn't real."

"no Josh you said! You said you wanted to use the spirit board!"

"yeah well, m'not sure if you think-- messing! With me is gonna somehow help me deal with my grief but I don't need this right now."

Josh stood from his seat and began to walk away, you followed behind him.

"No, Josh C'mon-"

"no! You guys are full of it!"

And with that, you and Josh made your way down the lodge stairs.

You both stood there holding each other for a moment before Josh said he needed to do something and left you alone.

You wandered back with the two you last spoke to, they seemed to be freaking out about a photo they had found and decided to look for Josh.

"Josh was just with me," you explain

"If you go now we'll catch up to him."

Only you didn't find Josh, you all found ghosts, set up doll houses, and a passed out Sam tied in a chair, and finally you all found a man in a mask.

Chris was the first one to be put under, Ashly panicking tried to stab the killer with scissors she found you gasped as the masked man cursed under his breath, "live and learn!" and with one hit knocked Ashley out cold, and then he slowly turned to you...

You opened your eyes to a gruesome sight, Chris on the verge of tears as he looks back and forth between his long-time crush and best friend.

A distorted voice demanding that Chris make a choice before you put any input Chris pulled the lever,

"No! Chris! I thought we were friends!" Josh calls as Ashley screams and turns away,

"ahh, I see. You have chosen to save Ashley."

You rival Ashley with a Bloodcurdling scream as you watch Joshes body get torn in half, "NO! CHRIS WHY?!" you cry out as the gate opens and Chris rushes to Ashley telling her it's okay and to not look,

"why! Can't I look Chris? tell me he's okay, pleaseeeesss-" she whines out in fear, looking at Joshes hanging body as she lets out a frightened scream and falls into Chris, you cry as you hold onto Joshes cold hand.

"I'm... I'm so sorry..." Chris whimpers you shake your head, "I would've picked Josh if it were me, I would've done the same as you, Chris..."

Just as you all ran out of that shed you were all in you ran into Emily and Matt.

Chris cried out to them about what he had done. What you all had to see.

Matt was the most freaked out and Emily seemed to think it was some prank at first until she saw how scared you all really were.

You all made a plan to split up, Chris and Ashley go back to the lodge and see what they can find and be safe. While Matt and Emily look for the radio in the old tower.

"alright we have a plan, And Y/n?"

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live-laugh-lenney · 13 days

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i extensively think about george having a swiftie gf and not only does he sit and listen to her explain the backstories behind each song and the parallels in lyrics but he surprises her with eras tour tickets and his ig story the entire night is just videos of his girl having the time of her life screaming the lyrics to lover to him <3

this is so cute, oh my-

in the weeks leading up to the show in london, she's preparing outfits for them.

she's scouring the internet for inspiration, saving ideas on a pinterest account that she made specifically for her eras show she was going to attend with george, looking on every single website she can find online when she had a spare moment to get an idea for more than 1 outfit. sending screenshots to george to see what his opinions were, what he was planning on wearing and whether she could alter his outfit so it seemed fitting to the theme of the eras tour.

and when the day comes, it's like a second christmas day for her.

she's up early in the morning so she could enjoy the whole day, she's blasting taylor swift songs around the flat which wakes up the rest of the boys which they couldn't be mad at, for too long, because she was having so much fun singing and dancing around the kitchen as she made breakfast and she was so excited for the show that night that they could dampen her spirits, speaking about nothing else but the night to come.

george has a whole day planned out for her, too.

they spend all morning getting ready together. she plays her music during her shower (which george shares with her because it's the one thing he enjoys doing knowing the boys can't really hear them over the sound of the water), she laughs when george sings along to some of the music because he had definitely been learning a few of her songs so he didn't seem out of place at wembley, and she even goes to town on decorating his face with glitter and some fancy patterns so he really looked the part. and once they're dressed in their almost matching outfits, lots of sequins glistening in the sunlight filtering through the windows and a cowboy hat for both of them on their heads, they get arthur to take photos of them before they disappear out the front door for the day.

they go out for an early dinner where they consume cocktails and she posts it online because she's really having the best day of her life with the one guy she truly loves. the one guy she wanted there with her. in her eyes, he had truly given her the best gift and she was thankful for the effort he had put in to make sure she had a great time. so by the time they're in wembley, they're a little buzzed and she's even more excited when she realises he's got floor tickets for her... which was more than she ever imagined.

and people recognise them, once they're seen inside of the venue, of course!

so lots of friendship bracelets are shared and exchanged with his fans and photos are taken; she even agrees to be a part of someone's tiktok video that george finds absolutely hilarious to witness. where yn wasn't someone well-known or on social media as often as he was, it felt ironic for him stand back and watch his girlfriend take his place on the app. and it made yn feel loved and included amongst those who love george for his content.

there's one photo posted between the two of them...

... and it's on george's instagram. a photo of yn with her back to the camera, arms in the air, as she's mid-dancing to one of her favourite songs playing on the setlist. a photo that george wanted to keep forever because she was in her element. and he felt pride to know she was truly enjoying herself.

"that was the best night of my life," she cries softly, cheeks absolutely sodden with tears of happiness once the show had finished, standing in the middle of the almost empty floor space with confetti littering the floor, her arms wrapping around his neck as she presses a kiss to his cheek, "thank you, george."

"you're welcome, rascal," he grins widely, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her close to his chest, her cheek resting on his clothed shoulder, "i'm glad you had the best night, babe."

"it was even better spending it with you," she admits and looks up at him, "seriously, i have no idea how i'm going to top a surprise for you."

"i'm not expecting anything in return, silly girl," he laughs and shakes his head, "just seeing you happy is enough for me, yeah?"

she nods and looks around as the fans around them start to make their way to the exits of the venue, "we should start heading home. as much as i'd love to stay here all night, i can feel my throat has been ripped to shreds."

"let's go," george unravels his arms from her waists and slips his fingers between hers, "plenty of tea for you over the next couple of days." xx

#george clarkey #george clarkey imagines #george clarkey fics #george clarkey headcannons #george clarkey blurbs #george clarke #george clarke blurbs #george clarke headcannons #george clarke fics #george clarke imagines

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faesystem · 1 year

Text

Headcanons/Prompts centred around Mario and Luigi being brothers.

1. In high school Mario got super insecure about his height, so Luigi acquired every single movie with Danny DeVito in it and made him watch it. Then if he ever suspected Mario was being insecure about his height, he would hand him a printed out photo/screenshot of Danny DeVito.

Mario found this so hilarious that it would usually distract him and cheer him up. He also found it so sweet how much effort Luigi put into it.

2. Luigi is chronically ill and disabled (long headcanons of this here) and as a kid and into adulthood Mario was the one who cared for him. Mario got a job in high school to help cover Luigi's medical bills. He spent a lot of time researching to try and figure out the problem when doctors were dismissing Luigi. He made sure Luigi ate three full meals a day and drank enough water. He helped Luigi get outside to get sun and fresh air.

When they finally figured out what exactly Luigi had and began treating it (I personally headcanon POTS and EDS) Mario ensured Luigi followed his treatment plan to a T.

Once Luigi's symtoms were managed quite well, he and Mario had quite a bit of tension of Luigi feeling smothered by Mario and Mario feeling overprotective after so long of caring for him. It caused one of the worst fights they have ever had, which ended with a, "YOU'RE NOT MY MOM!" "MOM WASN'T THE ONE WHO [long rant about all the things he's done for Luigi]." After Mario finished the ranting, they were both just sad about being mad at each other. They communicated about it and got better.

Once they got older, and especially after they became adventures, Luigi took on the role of caring for Mario's wellbeing. He was Mario's player 2 not because he was less skilled or capable, but because he wanted to be. He liked being there for his brother in the way his brother always was for him. He didn't care when people called him 'Green Mario' because there's no one in the world who he would rather be more like.

Although, when he had to fight Mario about taking breaks to eat, he thought it was absolutely karma for the hell he gave Mario when he was nauseous and did not wish to eat.

3. All Mario wants for Luigi is for him to be safe and happy. If he were to, say, get a romantic partner who will keep him safe and happy, values that above any personal hard feelings against the person. I am going to use Bowser as the example partner here, but any work.

A funnier route for this is Mario giving Bowser the biggest death glare possible whenever Luigi is not looking.

A less funny route is Mario bottling up his negative feelings as opposed to processing him, and something happens that shakes him and he pops like a shaken carbonated beverage. (I mean, the illustrative language I have used could also be comedic.)

4. Luigi has very high standards for people Mario date. I feel as though the only person who maybe would meet those standards would be Peach, and that's only because she is good at figuring out how to frame things she's done in a way that matches what people want from her. You know, political leader who has to make hard choices sometimes.

I am not a big DK x Mario shipper, but I will say DK would never meet Luigi's standards in 1000 years. I would say Luigi wouldn't necessarily oppose the relationship (unless you want some good comedy surrounding that) because he wants Mario to be happy and DK makes him happy. However, he thinks Mario could do better.

5. Luigi has bad taste in men. He is absolutely the sort of person to see an aggressive man with no ability to handle his feelings or self control and go, "I could fix him."

Mario always relentlessly bullied him for this. Then he ended up dating DK. Luigi seemingly remembered every single thing he ever said about his taste in men and is just parroting it back to him.

6. Luigi really likes dressing up all fancy, and Mario hates it. Luigi likes their matching outfits, especially likes it for adventures, but also prefers to dress up if going out anywhere. Going to see Peach casually for tea? Going to see a kids film? Going to the store? Dress pants, perfectly polished shoes, and a high quality, well fitting, tastefully coloured and patterned button down.

Mario on the other hand does Not like it. It's uncomfortable. It's expensive and he doesn't want to worry about running it. Usually doesn't fit well on him, and then tailoring is even more expenses. If he is not in their matching outfits, he is in shorts and a t-shirt.

They often go out together to a variety of events, some more formal than others, but at least one of them is always underdressed or (more often) overdressed.

7. The reason Luigi is afraid of animals is because he is afraid of accidentally hurting him. (Polterpup was the perfect dog for him.)

Mario helps his brother do exposure therapy for this fear. Luigi has made a lot of progress. When they were teens Luigi would back up as far as he could from any animals he saw because he was convinced he'd hurt them. Now, he just tends to freeze up and wait to see if he is making the animal uncomfortable by being close.

If you have made it this far, please comment or reblog with more ideas.

#Mod ? (He/Him)#Fandom Subsection #SMB #Super Mario Bros #Mario #Luigi #Prompt #Headcanon #Mario and Luigi #Super Mario Brothers #smb #super mario bros #luigi #mario

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brrbrina · 1 year

Text

opposite

pairing: joe burrow x ogc

wc: 1,528 words

warnings: angst! fluff, joe being a dick and aria having supportive friends

a/n : TIWYS was partially re-written you can read it here first and then come back to OPPOSITE

I´m so excited to tell you that these blurbs will be turned into a mini-series called “fwd” this will be inspire by the last four tracks of sabrina carpenter’s deluxe album: ” emails i can´t send fwd:“ here´s this chapter song, I hope you enjoy it, let me know if you'd like to be in the taglist!

She couldn't fathom the idea of throwing almost 5 years of a relationship into the trash, she felt nineteen again every time she saw his eyes, and the feelings of butterflies in her stomach never went away.

“I'm sorry is this seat taken’” a really tall blue-eyed guy asked standing next to her in the auditorium for an upcoming lecture, Aria looked up at him with tears in her eyes “No, no you can take it” she said moving her bag from the seat next to her to put it on her legs.

She had been crying nonstop over the last couple of days and you didn't need to know her for a really long time to notice she was crying, “These things are so boring I don't know why we need to keep coming to these lectures, this is mainly for assistance so…” Aria heard him but even though she would love to answer him, she knew if she would speak up she would break down crying. “... I really don't want to sound nosy but are you okay? It seems that you're sad and…” he said stopping his words “I know we just met and we don't even know each other's names but if you need to talk I'm here, I´m Joe” he said introducing himself and part of her broken heart felt she could really trust him “I´m Aria” she said looking at him with watery eyes. “I'm sorry it's just…” she sighed “I got broken up by text last week and I feel really sad, I never thought love could hurt this bad, it's probably very dumb, deep down inside I knew we weren't meant to last it's just… I had this reservation for a restaurant tomorrow and I had a dress and everything but he isn't coming for obvious reasons and I can cancel it without losing my money and my roommate was supposed to come with me but she´s got a date and…” those words came very quick out of her mouth and Joe quickly stepped up “I´ll go, text me the address and I´ll be there, here this is my phone” he didn't hesitate to tell her that, he had never met anyone prettier than her, her brown eyes looked beautiful even if they were filled with water.

“Are you sure? You really don't have to do that. I was just venting, we don't even know each other..” “Even better,” Joe said with excitement “You wear your pretty dress and i´ll wear a tux or something fancy, it's fine I promise, besides, it's a good thing to meet new people and have new friends” he said smiling at her and she knew he was right, there wasn't any harm in meeting people or going out to dinner with a new friend, she wasn't in a relationship and it wasn't a bad thing. So they went to that dinner and became really good friends, they would meet up for dinner anytime Joe was available with his busy football schedule.

While putting her clothes away in her new closet she saw that dress, the dress she wore specifically at that dinner and for their last date before becoming a couple, which was a good thing, Joe always told her how he loved how the dress looked on her, and she loved to hear those things.

Holding the piece of fabric in her hands she heard her phone ring, it was a text and her heart raced, wishing the text was from Joe, that he was going to apologize for the abrupt way he left, but it wasn't him and the text she got was only something that broke her heart more.

maría sent 1 photo

maría: i´m so sorry aria, i saw joe with the same girl you saw in that video,

It was a picture of Joe with his apparently new girl. They were at a restaurant and he was wearing a shirt Aria gifted him on the anniversary of their first dinner together, and that made her blood boil, did she create the perfect boyfriend just for some other girl to have him?

aria: it´s okay, thank you for telling me. Are you doing anything tomorrow, we could go to the movies if you´re up to it.

maría: YES! i´ll pick you up at 5, see you tomorrow, ok? i love you aria.

That was almost two months ago and even though broken hearts take time to heal, she surrounded herself with her friends, and then autumn came around, the leaves were changing and Cincinnati was feeling like a place she should leave behind, it wasn´t until one time she saw her friends from college, they bought tickets to go to the game that weekend and she didn't know if it was the right thing to do, go to the place she had been going to sitting in a box with the quarterback (her ex) was the only thing she knew to do at Paycor, but she still had another friend on the team. So she did the reasonable thing to do, send him a text.

aria: hi ja´marr i hope ur doing ok!! A few people from college want to go to a game and I don't want things to be weird. lol thought i should give you a heads up.

j chase: HEY

j chase: i thought you forgot about me because of that dipshit lmao

j chase: i would love for you to come! if any of you need tix let me know

j chase: i have a jersey of mine if you want one, i'm pretty sure you have the number 9 one

aria: oh

aria: no it´s fine i have a spare orange shirt, but thank you tho :) we´ll see you at the game

She met up with her friends in her new apartment, and eventually, the topic of her broke up with Joe came up, the funny thing about relationships was that you meet people you never thought you would be friends with, their friends blended together and it was something none of them was sorry for, it´s just how relationships worked, they were even invited to a wedding of one of the couples who also met in college, Aria wondered if they would followed their way, and well, they clearly didn´t.

After arriving at the stadium she felt overwhelmed and she could see directly to the box Joe´s parents were sitting, it was taking everything in her not to go in there to hug them for the last time, and then her heart broke a little more.

She was standing there, in the box she used to sit on, in the seat that used to be smelling like her favorite perfume, and Aria felt weak, it was such a bittersweet feeling, she looked nothing like Aria, she had long blonde hair, and bright blue eyes, Joe used to tell her that style of girl wasn't his type, it made him feel like he was dating himself, she was taller than Aria, maybe not that much but definitely one or two inches enough to make her 5’4 self feel a little sad. It was so weird looking at her there, wearing a number 9 on her jersey, Aria wore the number 9 jersey when she was in college, white, yellow, and purple, and a bracelet of the same colors but adding a number 9 to it in the middle.

It was hard to admit but she felt sad, Joe swore up and down he would never break her heart, that no matter how their relationship would go, Aria was the one who was supposed to walk away, that he loved her so much he would never do that, that he loved her enough to not walk away the same way her ex-boyfriend did. He saved her heart again just to break it into more pieces than anybody had ever done. And walking away from their home for the family they both wanted was hurting in a way she never felt before.

She left the stadium before the 4th half was over, she wasn´t feeling okay, and looking at Joe wasn´t making her any better, so she did the reasonable thing to do, after making up a lame excuse and said goodbye to her friends, she called an uber and rode back to her apartment, on the way there she blocked Joe from every social media, she thought that was the reasonable thing to do, but that didn´t last long.

Three weeks later she asked María to send her a screenshot of Joe´s story, something inside her felt the need to know how he was, she felt like maybe he would apologize soon but he didn´t, he was living a totally different life, he was running for MVP, the Bengals were on a winning strike, and Joe looked happier than ever.

maría: i don´t understand why i need to do this, this is only going to hurt you

aria: just do it mar

maría: ur insane

maría: sent a photo

maría: i´m so sorry baby :( if you need me i´m on my way.

read 11:34 pm

Amor, amor, amor, amor. It comes and goes, she felt a sense of loneliness she never felt before, she got a glass of wine and got drun, it was so quick, was he thinking about her when they were sleeping in the same bed, was she the one on his mind everytime they fucked or even worse when they were making love?

#joe burrow angst #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow #spideybrina #fwd series #joe burrow x original character

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mamamittens · 4 months

Text

Connections and Party Favors

This is part 7/12 of December Event 2023 for @spitfire-of-the-sea

Ace X OC(Saki)

(background Thatch X OC(Nikia), thanks for letting me slide them in lol, it gave me the perfect excuse to instigate a meet-cute)

Warnings: Mild social embarrassment via mistletoe incident.

Word Count: 2,179

Saki fussed at her hair while Doctor Marco drove. It was a bit awkward, really. He was the lead researcher on a big project they’d been working on together for over a year. She’d never describe him as overly warm, but he was friendly enough with a cup of coffee in his hand. Shockingly, once he heard she had no holiday plans, he offered an invite to his family Christmas dinner.

“Thatch thrives on the challenge. He’s gotten too used to the same black holes every year. A new face is just what he needs to keep him on his toes.” Marco chuckled over a petri dish. She’d waffled a bit, politely giving him space to take it back if it was offered in reflex. But no dice.

So here she was, dressed nice but not too nice for the family dinner of what was essentially her boss. Red sweater dress with a white cardigan and black ankle boots she’d fussed over just about as long as she had her hair. She’d literally changed her mind about a dozen times before settling on a simple twist braid down her back. Thankfully, Marco was dressed fairly nice in a crisp white button up and black slacks.

So clearly this wasn’t a totally relaxed affair or excessively fancy.

“You look fine, Saki.” Marco murmured gently with a smile as he pulled down an impressively decorated street. Lights strung up in the trees and along eaves in dazzlingly coordinated displays. “Mostly by accident, this neighborhood is mostly my folks. Then again, we’ve got a lot of people doing a lot of different things. This didn’t use to be such a nice place to live…” Marco shrugged as he pulled up on the street near a house with the front door open and people moving in and out, carrying supplies.

“That it?” Saki asked softly. Marco nodded with a quirk of his lips.

“Yep. We’ve got a lot of people that will be coming in and out just for a plate. We wanted a smaller party this year. We did reserve a proper venue for New Years though if they don’t scare you off tonight.” Marco laughed, shutting off the car and getting out. Saki followed quickly, still fairly nervous. Her heels clicking on the sidewalk as they walked up to the house.

The difference between the cold, foggy air outside and the warm, bustling atmosphere inside was stark. Like being wrapped up in a blanket fresh from the dryer. People moved like water around the house, chatting easily and clearly very familiar with everyone else. The interior was clean with many homey, cluttered touches. Bookshelves filled with media and nicknacks alike. Throw pillows tucked into the corners of chairs and the couch. Pictures lining the wall with no real order but each holding a clear emotional touch from faded childhood photos to more recent candid prints. Several of people Saki could see in the house right now, in fact.

Saki hesitated, lingering near the door awkwardly. Uncertain if she should sit down—would that be rude? Or perhaps offer help in the kitchen? She ended up sort of floating deeper into the house, close to the wall. Fretting and trying to refrain from wringing her hands or fiddling with her hair after spending so much time on it earlier. She kept moving over a little more to make room for people, pushing her deeper into the house and closer to the kitchens.

The warm atmosphere of the house, filled with the scent of delicious food still cooking and the chaotic chatter of people made her dizzy.

Suddenly, a gentle hand nudged her away from the doorway and she jolted, an apology already spilling from her lips.

“Oh! I’m s-so sorry!” Saki frantically gasped, eyes wide as she realized it was a woman just a few inches taller than herself. Swimming in a thick orange and cream colored sweater that looked borrowed with blue jeans and boots. The woman’s hand gently pushing further away from the doorway as she smiled a little awkwardly herself. Dark blue curls bouncing around her shoulders with thin teal braids draped down her back.

“You’re fine, hun. There’s just a bit of mischief out an’ about tonight.” She informed her just loud enough to be heard over the other guests, her words lilting and soft in a southern accent. She looked up at the doorway with fond exasperation, Saki’s eyes following to see a sprig of mistletoe taped to the center of the doorway. “Thatch thinks he’s bein’ slick. Thought you’d like a bit of warnin’ before someone get’s drunk enough to shock you… I’m Nikia, by the way.”

Saki laughed, tension easing from her shoulders.

“Saki… isn’t this a family function?” She asked. Nikia rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. It is. But no one here is above embarrassing their folks. And Thatch has been needy lately so I guess he thought the tricks were necessary to get his fix.” Nikia huffed, her pale cheeks a bit rosy as she pushed up her glasses. A man sidled up behind Nikia, grinning with flour on his cheek and reddish hair styled in an impressively put-together pompadour. He loomed over the both of them, but only glanced at Saki.

“You rang, lovely~?” He asked, clearly flirting. Saki noted that the sweater looked more like the man’s size than Nikia’s.

“Not for an interruption, no. Stop spookin ‘er, Thatch. She’s clearly used to Marco and he’s better at pretending to be stable than the rest of ya.” Nikia sassed with a fond smile despite her sharp tone. Thatch pouted, almost seeming to deflate as his arm wound around Nikia so he could rest his chin on her shoulder.

“You really going to shoot me down like that? Under a mistle toe and everything?” Thatch whined and Saki felt more like she should find somewhere else to hide.

She’d been at enough parties next to insufferable couples, thanks.

Nikia clicked her tongue, reaching up to press her hand over his cheek.

“With a face like that?” Nikia responded softly, brushing away the flour gently before kissing the spot she cleaned. “Yes. Get back to work, you’re the one that wanted to fly solo.” She cackled, flicking his nose. Thatch huffed, lingering for a moment to kiss her cheek.

“Fine. You lost dessert privileges though!” Thatch declared.

“The hell I did! I made the fuckin’ dessert, you heathen!” Nikia barked to his retreating back, the two laughing at each other. “I know there’s a lot of em, but just remember they’re all nerds in their own right and you’ll be fine. You get along well enough for Marco to drag you in, after all! Oh, and keep an eye out. I know this here ain’t the only bit ah mistletoe Thatch pulled out.” Nikia laughed with a friendly wink.

Saki smiled, a little less nervous as she tried again to mingle with Marco’s family. She was actually kind of succeeding. Apparently, Marco was very well liked in his family but also respected. Having stepped up many times when their patriarch and father-figure had health issues and could not oversee large family matters. So getting along with and working under Marco gave her early brownie points in their eyes.

She was talking with a man named Haruta who was an unabashed gossip when she leaned against the wall. Or rather, thought she did. She actually missed it by a few inches, her shoulder grazing the doorway as she fell back with a yelp. But rather than bashing her head into the floor, she was caught by warm arms. Strong, firm hands gently lifting her up as Haruta’s face lit up with glee.

“Are you alright, miss?” A smooth voice asked, her head tilting back to look.

“O-Oh! I’m fine! Just misjudged the wa—” Saki’s voice died.

He was pretty. That was her first thought, startled as she was. Tan skin even in the middle of winter and freckles splattered over his sharp features. Eyes like silver but kind under dark strands of loose curls. He wore a plain shirt and likely only because it was a family gathering if the sheer heat he put off was any indication. Still, he smiled down at her, just as flushed as she was.

“I’m glad! Hey, you’re Saki right? Marco said he was bringing a coworker and Thatch said you hadn’t run off yet. It’s nice to meet you! I’m Ace!” Ace grinned. And though Saki was momentarily stunned, her eyes slid away from his bright smile to just past him.

Up in the doorframe was yet another sprig of mistletoe taped to the ceiling.

To her mortification, her immediate thought was to thank Thatch’s persistent desire for chaos—and likely teasing his partner.

“A-Ah… yeah, I’m Saki. There’s uh… above you.” Saki added softly as she righted herself finally to stand properly. Ace had a good handful of inches over her in height and width, his broad shoulders doing her heart no favors. Ace wrinkled his nose in a surprisingly cute gesture before looking up. Freezing in barely restrained, awkward horror. Saki laughed, feeling just about the same as he did.

Oh sure, she wouldn’t mind a cheeky kiss from a handsome man like Ace, but for a first meeting? She certainly wasn’t that bold!

“You can ignore it, you know.” Nikia said suddenly behind them, Saki nearly yelping in shock as she laughed. “Or I could swap with you.” Ace bristled.

“Hell no! Thatch would kick my ass if I tried that!” Ace hissed nervously, suddenly a bit pale. Nikia grinned sharply with plenty of teeth.

“Now, who said I’d kiss you? You fishin’ for something, darlin?” Nikia teased with a wink as Ace flushed, denying it quickly.

“Nope! Don’t you drag me into your shit, either!” Ace protested vehemently. “You’re both instigators, I swear!”

Ace pulled Saki in and—before she could register what he was doing—kissed her.

Now, he probably meant to kiss her cheek.

But that was not what happened.

And Haruta was howling as Ace froze, his lips on hers in a soft press. He smelled faintly of a bonfire, turkey, and cologne. His eyes wide as he realized what had happened, Nikia quick to laugh too as Ace yanked himself back. Saki giggled a little as Ace flailed, trying to apologize.

“Ack!? I-I’m so sorry, I meant to kiss your cheek—the mistletoe—I!” Ace fumbled, face beet red as people nearby laughed at his misfortune.

Although Saki was also a bit embarrassed, she could only laugh as she pulled out her phone and opened her contacts. Handing it to him with a smile.

He looked shocked as he accepted it, seemingly not understanding what she was getting at.

“I wouldn’t mind getting caught with you again… if you don’t mind swapping numbers? We could go for coffee later or… something.” Saki trailed off, aware of how bold of a response that was to a mistake. She could see Thatch lean out of the kitchen, openly eavesdropping with an intensely invested expression. Ace slowly smiling wide in elation.

“Well?! Are you going to keep her in suspense or what?!” Thatch demanded after a moment.

“Yeah, don’t be rude, Ace.” Nikia teased, poking his side as she offered Saki a cup. “Tea. Got to it before someone spiked it with booze.” She murmured as Ace rushed to enter his number. The room erupting in cheers when he handed Saki her phone back.

Saki took a sip of shockingly sweet tea and smiled.

It was more than a little embarrassing, but more than worth it for a kiss and his number.

“So… wanna grab a plate and go outside where there aren’t nosy shits everywhere?!” Ace hissed at the people still watching, including Thatch and Haruta as Nikia had already slipped away. Dragging Thatch back into the kitchen despite his protests.

Saki laughed, putting away her phone and grabbing Ace’s hand.

“I’d love that!” She grinned and Ace pulled her close, guiding her through the crowd and helping her fill her own plate of hot food.

“We’ll be back for dessert.” Ace promised, his own plate piled high with food as he opened the back door onto a large patio.

It was still cold out, the night air lit by dozens and dozens of lights draped across the eaves of the house. But cuddled up next to Ace, Saki felt perfectly warm. The two of them laughing over good food and a promise of something more.

She apologized later to Marco for lowkey ditching him for his brother but he waved her off with an amused expression.

“It was cute. I can’t wait for the pictures to come in so we can all tease Ace about it later.” Marco laughed with a sly glance. “So… you coming to the New Year’s party too?”

“Actually… Ace already invited me.” Saki admitted.

Marco grinned, openly pleased.

“Oh, he’ll never hear the end of it now, yoi~” Marco crowed, Saki laughing along with him.

#December Event 2023 #one piece #fire fist ace #Ace X OC

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broccoliboix5peepeeman · 1 year

Text

Midoriya-sensei AU

Part 10: The Not-So-Hellish Todoroki Family

Thank you to @humangerbil for This Post that helped get me through writing this chapter ^^’

Part 9 | Ao3 | Part 11

Izuku swallowed heavily as he approached the Himura-Todoroki house.

Apparently, Endeavour had built it shortly before the war with the intention of giving it to his family so they could live their lives away from him. Izuku thought it was a nice gesture, even though he still personally hated the man for everything he'd done. That being said, he respected Fuyumi's decision to forgive her father, and if Izuku were to ever meet Endeavour, he'd behave in accordance.

Luckily though, he'd been informed that Todoroki Enji would not be attending tonight.

Fuyumi, Shoto and their mother all would be, as the three inhabitants of the house, as well as Himura Natsuo, who lived with his partner but visited often. That left Izuku as the only outsider, and while he was thrilled and honoured to be invited to dinner, he was also experiencing levels of stress not dissimilar to his first ever job interview.

He'd never been invited to a friend's house before—excluding Kacchan's when they were four—so suffice to say he had no clue what to expect. He'd dressed smart-casual, just in case: a green t-shirt with "Fancy Shirt" written across the chest, a dark brown blazer over the top, accompanied by fitted jeans of a similar colour and his red trainers. The late summer weather was pleasantly cool—Izuku had initially worried about sweating too much, but he'd ought not to—and only a slight heat flushed his cheeks when he finally made it to the porch and knocked.

A few seconds passed—silent if not for the unintelligible conversation inside—before the door was opened by Shoto, whose eyes widened slightly for a brief moment. His long hair was completely down—tucked behind his ears—and he donned a purple button-up with blue jeans.

They stared at each other, Izuku swallowing thickly, then a warm smile played at Shoto's lips.

'Midoriya.' He nodded his head, opening the door fully and gesturing for him to come inside. 'It's good to see you. You look nice.'

'L-L-Likewise.' He replied, then quickly bent down to take his shoes off, simultaneously hiding his traitorous blush. 'How have you been?'

'Good.' Shoto waited until Izuku had straightened up, before leading him down the corridor. 'Paperwork was interrupted by a villain attack, so, as the boss, I decided to go home early.'

'How very professional of you.' Izuku snorted, fiddling with his hands out of habit. 'I wish I had that excuse.'

'You do?' Shoto tilted his head to the side.

'Better than "I didn't do it because I didn't want to".' Izuku shrugged, admiring the photos adorning the walls. However, when his eyes landed on a specific frame, he stilled, prompting his friend to do the same. 'Oh my god.'

'What?'

Izuku covered his mouth with his hand as he stared at a photo of Fuyumi as a child, sitting up straight and smiling at the camera with a happy but determined expression. In her arms was a sleeping Shoto, not even a year old, wearing a grey onesie; his little wisps of red and white hair were just as distinguishable as always.

Izuku's heart melted and his eyes watered.

'I'm sorry, but you guys are so goddamn cute.'

'Oh…' Shoto looked at the photo, contemplative. 'Thank you?'

'Is he cooing over the childhood photos?' Fuyumi suddenly shouted, presumably from the room they had been heading towards.

'Yes!' Shoto called back, eliciting a triumphant shout from Fuyumi. He then gestured forwards with a nod and continued walking, voice returning to its usual volume. 'Everyone's in the kitchen.'

Izuku reluctantly followed, but not before sneaking a quick photo on his phone. Once he caught up, Shoto slid a door open, revealing the rest of the Himura-Todoroki family. Before he could get a proper look, however, Fuyumi barrelled into him.

'You actually came, I'm so proud of you!' She squeezed where she'd encased him in a hug, before pulling back. The splodges on her glasses were the same colour as those on her lilac apron; her tied-up hair had turned frizzy from humidity. 'I'm nearly finished, so I'll let Shoto introduce you to everyone.'

'Are you sure you don't want any help, dear?' A gentle voice came from behind Fuyumi. 'We've barely done anything.'

'Nee-san never lets us help, kaasan, you should know that by now.' Another unfamiliar voice added, and Izuku finally peered around his friend to look at them fully.

His eyes automatically landed on who he assumed was Himura Natsuo, given that he practically towered over the rest of them—including Shoto, who was at least six foot. He definitely took after his father appearance-wise: the face shape, broadness, height. However, that didn't take away from the softness in his expression; despite the white hair and grey eyes, he looked incredibly warm.

Izuku lowered his gaze, and gasped when he realised what was poking out from underneath the varsity jacket: a black "Fancy Shirt" shirt.

'We're matching!' To emphasise his point, he grabbed his own shirt. 'I can't believe it!'

'Brethren!' Himura exclaimed, rushing over with his palm raised and cheering when Izuku met him for the high-five. 'Oh, guys, I love him already. Neither of you told me he was a fashion connoisseur!'

'Because he isn't, and neither are you.' Fuyumi shot back, as she returned to the oven. 'Shoto.'

'Ah yeah.' The aforementioned cleared his throat. 'Midoriya Izuku, meet Himura Natsuo, my brother. He's very loud.'

'Shotouto, you wound me. My volume is perfectly acceptable.' Himura clasped his chest to feign hurt, albeit he was still smiling when he turned to Izuku. 'Nice to finally meet you, Midoriya. You're kind of a celebrity in this family.'

'O-Oh…' He covered his face with his arms, bashful. 'It's nice to meet you too, but I don't think-'

'Oh no, Natsuo's right. You're all these two ever talk about.'

Izuku lowered his arms—face still flushed—to find the siblings' mother regarding him with an amused expression. She was incredibly beautiful; her white hair settling just past her jaw bone, framing her aged but peaceful countenance. He'd always known Fuyumi and Shoto had inherited most of her attributes, but the resemblance really was uncanny, especially when they were all in the same room.

'Midoriya, this is our mother, Himura Rei.' Shoto introduced without delay. 'Kaasan, meet Midoriya Izuku.'

'It's a pleasure, Himura-san!' Izuku bowed so low, he was parallel with the ground. 'Thank you for having me.'

'Oh, my. So polite!' When he looked up, she was covering her mouth delicately. 'The pleasure is all mine, Midoriya-kun. Please, call me Rei.'

'Thank you very much… Rei-san.' Izuku smiled wobbly at that, honoured, but unsure what to say next.

Luckily, he didn’t need to fill the silence.

‘While Fuyumi finishes the pork shumai, let’s take what's ready to the table.’ She suggested, gesturing to the adjoining room. ‘We’re crowding her.’

‘Thanks, Kaasan.’ She called from the kitchen counter. ‘I’ve already set the dining table.’

Izuku cast her one final glance, then followed the other three, grabbing a dish to carry. He chose the two hot bowls of mapo tofu—inhaling, then sighing at the smell—and made his way into the next room, gasping at how beautiful it looked.

As expected, it was more traditional than his own home, with a cream floor-sofa and rug, a low coffee table, tall corner lamps and a chestnut set of drawers, on which a modest tv stood. All of this furniture was atop a wooden floor, which took up about half of the room. The other half was separated by a raised platform, where the long chabudai table sat, in front of the framed glass back door that looked out onto the garden. Everyone's individual rice bowls and miso soup accompanied the usual dinner set, including empty glasses for drinks.

The family gravitated towards the chabudai—setting the food down before taking their seats on the pillows set out—while Izuku stood nervously, not sure whether there was a specific seating arrangement he had to adhere to. After all, Rei was at the head of the table, with Himura on her left and Shoto on her right—they hadn’t even needed to discuss it—so did that mean Fuyumi had a specific seat? What if Izuku accidentally sat in hers?

Was he overthinking this? Probably.

‘Midoriya.’ Shoto patted the cushion next to him invitingly. ‘You can put the mapo anywhere, then sit next to me.’

Izuku simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief that the decision had been made for him, and internally jumped for joy because Shoto wanted them to sit next to each other.

His heart thudded as he nodded quickly, put the bowls down and took his seat, shuffling his bum on the pillow until he was comfortable. He then rubbed his palms against his legs, internally grimacing at how sweaty they were. Even though they were friends now, he still got butterflies around Shoto.

He suspected he’d always feel that way.

Shoto turned to face him—for a split second, Izuku worried he’d thought that last part out loud. ‘Are you okay? Your face is red.’

‘Just a little warm.’ He shrugged off his blazer with a nervous laugh. ‘I’ll calm down in a few minutes.’

‘It’s okay, I can use my quirk, if you want?’ Shoto held out his hand to demonstrate his point. ‘You’re already on my right side.’

That evidently did not help the situation, as his cheeks burnt even hotter.

Izuku was torn. On the one hand, he knew that he’d be teased to no end if he agreed—not to mention that he would inevitably embarrass himself by saying or doing something stupid—but on the other, he really wanted to use Shoto as his own personal air conditioner for entirely selfish reasons; plus, he really didn’t want to smell of sweat right now.

‘Uh- Er… sure, if that’s okay with you?’

‘Of course it’s okay. It was my idea.’

Shoto settled his hand so it wasn’t quite touching Izuku’s back, before quickly activating his quirk. The sudden cold wasn’t overwhelming like he’d expected—his control over his ice was incredible—and Izuku instantly found himself relaxing with a sigh.

‘That’s so much better—thanks, Shoto-kun.’

He smiled wobbly at his friend. It was only then that he realised just how quiet the room was and faced the rest of the table. While Himura was smirking as he typed on his phone, Rei was pointedly looking out at the garden.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, which immediately prompted her to look back at them.

'Would everyone like a drink?' She reached for the jug of water at the centre of the chabudai. 'I hope water is okay, Midoriya?'

'Oh, yes! Thank you very much!' Izuku nodded quickly, holding out his glass as she poured.

Shoto held his out next, followed by Himura, who finally put his phone down. He then rested his head between his palms and regarded Izuku curiously.

‘Now that we’re all settled,’ He paused to look pointedly at him and Shoto, ‘I gotta know, Midoriya, do you have any funny work stories?’

Izuku blinked dumbly.

‘Depends what you mean by that. That's a very broad question.'

'Oh, y'know, like funny stuff kids say or do, where you really wanna laugh but you can't.' Himura waved a hand in the air. 'Fuyu-nee never tells me anything, she can be a right bi-'

'Natsuo.' Rei chided. 'You should know, being a nurse, that confidentiality is important.'

'That's a bit different though.' Himura rolled his eyes. 'She can share anonymous stories and it's fine, but healthcare is a whole other kettle of fish.'

'There's fish in healthcare?' Shoto interjected.

'Yes, Dipshit. They're just doing their jobs like everyone else, don't judge.' Himura didn't miss a beat. 'But yeah, nursing is different! Plus, even if I was allowed to share stories, there's only so many x-rays of things stuck up people's asses before it gets old.'

Izuku snorted at that, while Rei covered her grin with her hand; Shoto, meanwhile, pinched his chin in thought.

'You were lying about the fish, weren't you?'

'Nah, I was 100% serious.' Himura then turned to Izuku and clasped his hands together pleadingly. 'Please, Midoriya-kun, give me something!'

Izuku smiled at the dramatic display, then decided to indulge him.

'Well… there was this one time where I had this really shy student—real quiet, but nothing to worry about—and one day, he wasn't doing his work, just kinda sitting there looking… constipated, for lack of a better word. So, I wandered over to ask if everything was okay, but just as I got there, he turned to his desk buddy, who was new, and shouted "I'm sorry but you are so pretty and I can't concentrate! Midoriya-sensei, please move her away from me!".'

Himura spluttered out a laugh that was quietly echoed by Rei. Even Shoto was smiling with clear amusement.

'Poor kid. What happened?'

'I moved him to the front of the class for the rest of the morning, but later, I took him aside and suggested that maybe he should talk to her at lunch so he can get used to how pretty she is, but he just looked at me solemnly and said he'd never get used to it.' Izuku chuckled at the memory. 'He took my advice though and they ended up becoming best friends.'

'That is so goddamn cute, but also hilarious!' Himura squeezed his eyes shut and clutched his chest. 'Do you have any more?'

Izuku stroked his chin in thought, before sniggering to himself.

'Okay, last one. We had a lesson on careers, and we were talking about what everyone's parents did, so one kid puts their hand up and says in a very serious manner, "my dad fixes boobies!". Now, I didn't want to press too much, but naturally, I was curious. Luckily, her parents were very nice, so when they came to collect her, I asked about it. The mum explained that the dad was an anesthesiologist and his favourite surgery was b-b-breast surgery, because he always gets to sit at the patient's eye level and confirm to the surgeon that they're both even. I had a hard time trying not to laugh at that one.'

'Bahaha, that checks out!' Himura cackled. 'I'm a scrub nurse, so I've sat in on a few of those surgeries in my time—they're dope!'

'Okaasan is right here.' Shoto grumbled.

'Sweetheart.' She smiled gently, reaching out to pat his hand. 'Just because you don't appreciate boobs doesn't mean others are the same.'

Izuku's jaw dropped and his cheeks flushed as he stared at Rei, gobsmacked. Admittedly though, he was impressed.

'You tell him, Kaasan!' Himura immediately latched onto the support. 'Stop being a prude, Shotouto!'

'Don't call me that.' His frown was accompanied by a slight pout, which Izuku couldn't look away from. 'I just have taste and don’t think with my dick.'

Himura opened his mouth to retaliate, but before any arguments could start, Fuyumi called out something Izuku didn’t quite catch, and brought through the remaining dish: pork shumai, complete with peas on top.

Now that he finally got a chance to properly look at the food around him, he couldn't help but be amazed. She really had gone all-out with dinner, it was practically a buffet! In addition to the shumai, there was the mapo tofu he'd brought through earlier, tatsutaage and tamagoyaki, along with cabbage rolls, gyoza dumplings, salad, miso soup and dipping sauces.

'I can't believe you did all this, Fuyumi-san!' Izuku exclaimed. 'Is this, like, a normal dinner for you guys?'

'Oh, no. You think I can be arsed doing this every day?' She snorted, taking her seat. 'Only when we have guests over.'

'You don't usually do this when I come over.' Himura retorted.

'Because I don't like you.'

'Hey!'

While they bickered, Izuku took a moment to simply appreciate the banquet in front of them and the sentiment behind it. Fuyumi really had put so much effort into it; he didn't even know where to begin in expressing his gratitude.

'This really is amazing.' He eventually decided on saying. It didn't feel like enough, but the smile his best friend flashed him in response put those worries to rest.

'Thanks, Izuku-kun.' She looked around the table. 'Please go ahead.'

A chorus of "itadakimasu" was spoken in response, then everyone began plating up, using the opposite ends of their chopsticks to transfer the food. Izuku particularly liked the look of the tatsutaage—the fried chicken was second only to the pork shumai—but made sure to wait until everyone else had taken their portions before grabbing extras. Additionally, he made sure to gather an equal amount from every plate to be polite, then began eating.

It was simply wonderful. He had no idea Fuyumi was such a good chef, although in hindsight, he should've realised as much from how amazing her bento boxes always looked at lunchtime.

Several minutes passed, and he'd already finished half of his food.

‘Hey, Midoriya.'

He looked up to find Himura's lips curling playfully as he watched him.

'Yeah?'

'Are there any kids you can’t stand?’ He asked nonchalantly as he reached for another gyoza. ‘I know you’re a cinnamon roll of goodness, but there’s gotta be at least one.’

Izuku swallowed thickly.

A few notable faces passed through his mind. He often prided himself on his ability to see the best in everyone, but he was by no means perfect. The memory of Katsuji and Muneo in particular had him shivering.

The duo had been in Izuku's assigned homeroom class when he'd initially started at Musutafu Shōgakkō. They seemed to have really bonded with their previous homeroom teacher, so openly resented Izuku for "replacing" him. Honestly though, he had never held that against them—they were children experiencing a big change, it was understandable—plus they weren't alone; most of the class had taken a while to warm up to him.

No, what made these two stand out was their resemblance to Kacchan when he was their age. They'd openly criticised Izuku for his Quirkless status, refused to listen to him—resulting in multiple behavioural warnings—and several times, they'd even used their quirks on him. They were powerful as well: Katsuji was able to control the terrain around him, while Muneo had the ability to teleport small objects.

Izuku remembered slipping on ice that immediately turned back to normal afterwards; he remembered when thumbtacks were teleported to his chair as he sat down at his desk—it had taken him a while to trust sitting down again after that. He remembered having their parents complain about him, saying that Izuku was targeting their children with "unjust" punishments. He remembered how he had to get security footage to prove to both them, as well as the Head, that he was telling the truth.

'Yeah, but I really don't want to talk about them.' He answered awkwardly, before shoving another load of rice in his mouth. He knew it wasn't what Himura wanted to hear, and he was aware of the tense silence that suddenly fell upon the room, but he didn't know what else to say.

Think, Izuku. Think…

He looked around the chabudai, noticing that one person had already finished eating.

'Erm, Rei-san. I've been wondering… what do you like to do in your spare time?' He tried instead, turning to the aforementioned. 'I haven't heard much, but Fuyumi-san said you like crocheting?'

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and smiled, seemingly not expecting the question.

'Ah, yes. Crocheting, knitting—I learnt whilst in the hospital.' Her smile wobbled ever so slightly; only Izuku seemed to notice, eyeing her as he drank some miso soup. 'It passed the time, and I was able to make things for my children. I have to say though, since my discharge, I do enjoy gardening the most. I grow all sorts of herbs, fruit and veg—we even have a greenhouse and allotment at the back of the garden.'

'That's so cool!' Izuku lowered the bowl. 'I really admire your patience, I don't think I'd make a very good green thumb.'

'You already have green hair.' Shoto offered.

Fuyumi snorted.

'Well spotted.'

'I think you should give yourself more credit.' Rei ignored the other two and regarded Izuku. 'After all, your job requires an inordinate amount of patience.'

Huh…

He'd never thought of it that way. Teaching just felt so… natural, he'd been doing it for so long, he didn't really need to think about the core elements too much; he just did them. That being said, Rei was right, patience was a necessity, especially with children so young.

Izuku supposed though, when it came to people in general, he'd always had an infinite amount of patience. He never really knew how to give up.

'I guess that's true.' He tilted his head to the side, deciding not to pursue the topic, and circling back around to Rei. 'What's your favourite thing to grow?'

'That's a tough one.' She looked up, furrowing her brow as she tapped her chin in thought. 'Strawberries are a pain to manage, but the reward is really worth it when I get to bring them to work.'

'Oh, you work at the library, right?' He remembered Fuyumi previously mentioning that over the years.

'Yes, but only part time. It gives me the opportunity to meet new people and make up for lost time.' She spoke about it almost nonchalantly—as if she hadn't spent over a decade isolated—although he supposed that it was easy to become sanitised to the topic once having lived through it.

'That sounds nice.' He smiled. 'Manageable.'

'Yes, definitely.' She nodded. 'But anyway, during the summer, we get lots of children coming in, so I always bring in the freshly picked fruit and we have a "strawberries and cream" day.'

Automatically, the mental image of strawberries and cream reminded Izuku of the man sitting next to him—he hoped the quick glance in his direction was subtle—then tried not to blush.

'Sometimes, Okaasan gets Shotouto to come too because of his hair.' Himura added, a mischievous grin on his face. Not subtle then. 'His popularity ratings always skyrocket as soon as the parents put the photos online.'

'That's not why I do it.' Shoto frowned.

Izuku smiled endearingly.

‘I think that adds to why people like it.’ He reasoned. ‘Part of the reason people like you so much is because of how kind you are without even realising it. At least, that was the case with me.’

‘Still your second favourite hero though.’ Shoto grumbled quietly, prompting a snigger from Izuku.

‘Anyway, does the library organise any other events during the year, Rei-san?’

The conversation continued in a similar fashion after that. Izuku listened animatedly as she spoke, finding the interaction surprisingly easy. It was also nice when the other three contributed, smiling and joking with their mother as they all finished the rest of their food.

By the time they had all emptied their plates, the topic had moved on: Himura was talking about his career, after being prompted by Izuku.

'A lot of my mates keep saying that they'd hate to work with their girlfriend because they'd get sick of each other, but like… not to sound like a simp, but I love spending more time with her.'

'Simp.' Both Shoto and Fuyumi deadpanned, earning them two simultaneous middle fingers.

'Like, we have shared interests with work and stuff—we make a great team—then when we get home, we can just spend time chilling or doing our own thing. We just work well together—always have, that's why we're engaged, after all. Why would I complain about seeing her too much?' He waved his hands, then froze, suddenly very aware of his movements. 'Fuck, I really am a simp.'

‘At least you’re self-aware now.’ Fuyumi patted her brother on the back.

‘Fuck you.’ Himura rolled his eyes.

'I think it's great that you love working together!' Izuku piped up. He decided not to mention how he grew up dreaming of becoming a hero and saving lives with a nameless love of his life. 'It's really sweet.'

'Thanks, Midoriya.' Himura smiled softly, then fell into a contemplative silence—searching Izuku's expression—before deciding on his next words.

‘On a more serious note, it’s also good because I know I’ve always got someone who'll have my back, especially on bad days where both patients and other staff give me shit.’

Izuku immediately understood the previous look and what Himura was searching for then: they shared an understanding that none of the others in the room had. He didn’t need to ask what Himura had meant by the comment—after all, he experienced similar situations at the school—but it did make him wonder.

‘Out of interest, do you need to disclose your quirklessness to your patients?' He tapped his fingers nervously. 'Like, I understand staff finding out, but being forced to almost “out” yourself to patients sounds super shady.’

‘Oh yeah, it’s illegal.’ Himura looked pained, even as he tried to mask it with indifference. ‘So I’m not obligated, but a lot of people are able to make the connection between me and the Todoroki family, and well… it is what I’m known for.’

At Izuku’s confused look, he huffed through his nose. ‘Touya-nii was the batshit crazy one, Fuyu-nee is the girl, I’m the quirkless one and Shotouto’s the family redemption arc… We’re like the dysfunctional Spice Girls.’

When Himura then laughed at his own joke, Izuku had a feeling it was because it was all he really could do. He hated it. He wasn’t quite sure how to help the situation; it was a complicated topic, and while he certainly had his own thoughts, he didn't want to say the wrong thing.

Luckily, Himura broke the silence. ‘Anyway, I heard there’s some shit going down at the school with those Speak Out bastards?’

Izuku took a swig of his water.

‘I’m assuming Fuyumi-san’s already told you the details, but yeah. We spoke to the Head and after some talk, we’ve decided to do an informative day with the kids that the parents can also come along to. The idea is to combat any myths and provide references that are readily available for anyone to access. Of course, I don’t expect that to fix everything.’ He noticed Fuyumi nodded in agreement. ‘So, we haggled—well, mainly Fuyumi-san-’

‘It was your idea though.’

‘Sure, but basically, we’re going to organise something that will hopefully help with the bullying. There’s no set specifics yet, but one example would be throwing a conditional pizza party, where students only get the pizza if they win a quiz, then manipulate it so that the deciding question falls on the bullied individual—of course, the question has to be one they’ll obviously know the answer to—so then when they win, they’re seen as the “hero”. It builds comradery and such.’

He trailed off, frustrated that he still hadn’t thought of a way to implement this idea with Hiru. He didn’t have time to dwell on it for long though.

'There's no manual when it comes to children.' Rei spoke quietly. She looked almost lost in a memory. 'I hope whatever you come up with works.'

‘Yeah, I dunno how effective that’s gonna be.’ Himura hummed, sceptical. ‘There’s no guarantee—how do you know it won’t make things worse?’

‘We don’t…’ Fuyumi acknowledged. ‘But this is the best way to address the issue without targeting individuals, which often escalates bullying.’

'I agree.' Izuku nodded. 'I will admit though, as long as the group is active and gaining traction, it's going to be difficult to prevent things from getting progressively worse.'

Silence washed over the table after that, no one quite sure what to say. It was only then that Izuku noticed how silent Shoto had been during the conversation. When he turned to look at him in question, his friend was tight-lipped and tense.

'Shoto-san?' He prompted gently.

The aforementioned blinked, before realising that everyone was watching him curiously. He then scratched at his scar and pointedly avoided eye contact.

'I can't go into detail, but with regards to the Speak Out group, just... be patient.'

Izuku bit his lip, searching Shoto's expression, but it was carefully blank; only familiar determination seemed to shine through. It wasn't much, but that alone filled him with reassurance.

It felt like a promise.

***

Shoto-kun 🙏 [2053]: Hey Midoriya?

It hadn't even been ten minutes since Izuku left the Himura-Todoroki abode, when his phone buzzed in his pocket, revealing the message from Shoto.

Intrigued, he texted as he continued walking down the street.

Me [2054]: Miss me already?

It was an innocent joke—he would've messaged Fuyumi the same thing—yet his heart thudded against his chest, completely unrelated to the exercise.

Shoto-kun 🙏 [2055]: Yes, but that's not why I'm messaging

Shoto-kun 🙏 [2055]: You forgot to pick up your class's letters

‘Oh shit.’ He’d completely forgotten about that. He decided to stop completely as he typed.

Me [2057]: Damn, It just completely slipped my mind! I can head back now or ask Fuyumi to bring them tomorrow

Shoto-kun 🙏 [2057]: No, don’t worry about it.

Izuku frowned at that.

'What?'

Shoto-kun 🙏 [2057]: In fact, I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to hang out at the house tomorrow night anyway… that is, if your class can wait a few more days for their letters

That familiar heat returned; Izuku could literally feel his face turn red. More time with Shoto? How could he possibly refuse?

Me [2058]: Sounds good to me!

He sent the message and began walking again, a little faster than before. He was full of excited energy he had no idea what to do with. He’d have started running, but he didn’t want to upset his full stomach.

It wasn’t until he got home that he realised his phone had buzzed again during his journey, unbeknownst to him.

Shoto-kun 🙏 [2106]: Oh btw, Fuyu and okaasan will be at Natsuo’s so we'll have the place to ourselves. You good to come over 6ish?

Izuku tripped over his own feet and landed on the floor with an "oof".

Alone

Me [2120]: See you then!

#tododeku #midoriya izuku #todoroki shoto #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki rei #todoroki natsuo #todoizu #todomido #izushou #dekutodo #Midoriya-sensei AU #teacher midoriya izuku #teacher todoroki fuyumi #quirkless todoroki natsuo #quirkless midoriya izuku #quirkless discrimination #teacher au #platonic fuyumizu

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 2 years

Note

If you still wanna do pokemon character requests what about dating gym leader nessa headcanons, if you could?

Oooh I've been waiting to write for Nessa 😭 though it's been a hot minute since I played through swsh so my apologies if anythings ooc!

Dating Nessa headcanons

If it's one thing for sure, Nessa absolutely loves to show you off - whether it'd be walking around the streets of Hulbary hand in hand or arms looped together or dressing up nice and fancy with you for her modeling related business trips around the region and gatherings/functions Chairman Rose holds with all the rest of the region gyms leaders.

She wants no doubt in anyone's mind that you are her s/o and she is yours. With that said it should be noted she can tend very jealous (even if she really doesn't want to be) at she is absolutely not afraid to shoot the most terrifying glares at any signs of 'unwanted attention' - however, she has 100% of her trust placed in you (or else she wouldn't be with you in the first place) so she knows there's nothing to worry about when it comes to you but she knows how stubbon and how people can absolute jerkish people can be at times who seem to not be able to take a hint so she's ready to come in to potentially be at the rescue to sweep you off your feet at the moments notice if need be :)

Since she's a model, 100% if you're comfortable with it there has been those couple typing photo shoots and they got absolutely hard online where deadass there have been fan edits made of you two lol

Absolutely loves to share her love with Pokemon with you - especially if you're a fellow trainer (special bonus if you're a water type trainer 😉) I mean granted, this is probably the case with all the gym Leaders but Nessa has an especially soft spot for Pokemon where usually most if her time is spent training/playing around with the Pokemon at her gym and would absolutely adore it if you shared the same interest.

So I'd imagine this is the most case with Pokemon gyms in general where gyms when not in "leauge/challenger mode" have a special service where the gym Leader and the rest of the gym endorsed trainers (the usual trainers you fight before reaching the gym Leader in normal pokemon games) will train and take care of newly hatched "baby" Pokemon of the gym's specific typing but in particular the Hulbary Water Gym is VERY big in this to where it's a very popular activity to go sit in the stands and watch the gym's trainers work with the Pokemon and even adoption events are held for baby Pokemon once their weened enoughed, afterall the Galar's professor is far enough away from Hulbary and not everyone can go out into the dangers of the wild area and stuff to go physically catch their own Pokemon and some people don't have any interest or experience with battling and just want a companion instead and these adoption events are very popular in that sort of market. Nessa of course is head of these events and is the most active out of anybody with them but if she sees you participating in any kind of way - helping train the Pokemon, showing them off to families and giving advice to what kind of Pokemon is good for specific types of things and living conditions - just seeing you involve in something special to her really really swoons her heart.

Speaking of Pokemon, please give all your love and praise to her Dreadnaw. Of course love all of the Pokemon on her team but her Dreadnaw is her ace and is very very special to her so seeing you two get along really really pleases her, especially seeing you too curled (or at least as much a turtle can curl) on the couch together in the living room when she comes home watching television together with you talking to him about whatever as he shakes his head along like the good listener he is never fails to bring a smile to her face.

Nessa absolutely lives to cuddle, she's the number one little spoon and just adores feeling your arms and weight wrapped around her to make her quickly feel so comforted to lumber asleep - well that is if you can manage to little spoon her because like Nessa Drednaw also likes to cuddle and before you can even get to the bed to lay down with your girlfriend at times he'll beat you there and place himself where he is the center piece of your cuddle pile, but he's cute so it's easy to give it a pass and his shell feels quite nice a smooth actually, more than you would expect given his sharp edges but given this is sleepy time and not battle time they're not much of a threat as he snores away between the middle of you two.

Nessa is a Water type trainer for a reason, she absolutely loves the water. Swimming is her number one stress reliever and when you're a gym Leader for an entire region and constantly have pressures like the chairman on your ass to make sure your shows and matches reach a certain entertainment quota with stuff like Dynamaxing and stuff - it can be quite the handful so she definitely deserves it. Something late after closing hours for the gym she'll stay behind and take a few long laps around the pool to clear her head. Nessa tends to be harsh on herself at times, even if she'll say otherwise and absolutely try to completely deny it, stuck in her own head thinking about all the mistakes she's made in past matches no matter how long ago they took place and heavily reflected on them and how she could have done better and how obvious to her in present tense her mistake was and what she could've done better. In these instances she'll sit at the poolside and let herself flood in these thoughts over and over she criticizes herself in her head and wonders how the hell she's still even gym Leader... but then, like clockwork every time, you find her.

Somehow your touch can ease the most harshest of thoughts as you wrap your arms around her and pull her into an embrace - never caring about how wet she is from her previous laps around the gym pool. You don't say anything until she does, giving her time to open up if she wants and never pushing her if she doesn't, and when she does your words sink so deep as you tell her how proud and amazed you are at her accomplishments and 100% willing to go down an entire list of them if she's not believing with brings an embarrassing warmth to her face every time. Hell, if your partner pokemon is out if their ball they come over and share the love by nudging/pressing into her to show their support as well which gets a few good giggles out of her. Once she's feeling a tad better and if you're up to it it would really mean a lot to her if you got in the pool and swam with her - her swimming eariler while it is a comfort for her especially in these instances but during heavily stuck moments it's just her falling deeper and deeper into those thoughts, now swimming and fooling around with you makes her a lot more fresh and out of her head while she just has fun playing around with you, Drednaw, and your partner Pokemon if they're water type if not they just hang out and watch at the poolside.

After these swim sessions and you finally return home late it's easy to both flop down onto bed and let exhaustion settle through your bones, yes there might be the settling discomfort of wet clothes and threat of potential sickness but neither of you really care as you lay there and stare back at each other. All of that can be something to be dealt with in the morning as you two hold onto each other, Drednaw slowy climbing onto the bed to squeeze his way I between you however. And it doesn't take long before you tumble off into sleep, however not after Nessa presses a light feathery kiss to your lips that mold into a slumbering smile and whispery call of your name.

"I'm so glad I have you here with me."

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

Tagging list

No one currently on the tagging list for Nessa.

How to be added to the tagging list + additional info

#pokemon #pokemon x reader #gym leader nessa #nessa x reader #pokemon nessa #pokemon nessa x reader #mine #gender neutral reader

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lavender-at-heart · 1 year

Text

Tears of Rain-Ch.I

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x fem!oc

Chapter Summary: meet the birthday girl

Series masterlist:

Warnings: talks of depression.

Notes: this whole series will be inspired by The Virgin Suicides, Im not ok with this, Coraline and Twilight. Sort of melancholic good old fashioned novella. Also this is a oc story but she won't be described a lot especially in these early chapters so u can sorta read it as x reader if you'd prefer it.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Today is my birthday.

The saddest and happiest day of every girl's year. I dont really want to think about that right now though. I can hear a crow cawing from outside my window as my mind stirs awake. Staring back at my yellowing ceiling I breathe silently for a few minutes before pushing up and put of bed. The old oak floors creak with life as I pad my way to the bathroom. I wash my face with ice cold water and rub my eyes of sleep. The reflection that stares back at me is dusty and dull. I don't really recognize it as myself, I know it's me but it seems to be faded, blurred.

I can hear my sister shuffling around downstairs clammering pots and pans together. I brush out my hair and don't do much else to my appearance, I doubt I'd have enough energy to do anything more.

I take the extremely short trip from my loft, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Oh close your eyes!" She shouts and covers the plate she prepared with her hands; she guards it as if it's the lost city of Atlantis. I press my hand to my eyes and I hear more shuffling and the the click of a lighter. She then pushes me into the bar stool at the small kitchen island. "OK, open."

In front of me was a stack of five huge pancakes. There were small flowers on the top that had been messily made with butter,whipped cream and frosting. In the centre was a bright pink candle and beside the plate was a tall glass of milk.

"Oh... you shouldn't have. Thank you." I smile as much as I can and give her a hug. We then gorge on our pancakes.

"I hope you know I didn't just make you pancakes, I got you something else but you'll just have to wait!" She tells me with the kind of happiness one can only get from being an older sister. "Also I hate to say It but I have to go into town today, but we can hang out later. Promise."

"Sure"

She kisses me on the forehead and just like that I hear the door click and I am alone. I go upstairs and change into a simple white dress, it's smooth and could also double as a nightgown if you were a fancy old lady. As I sit at my vanity I can't help but melt into a puddle of tears. I should be happy today. I want to be happy today. A million different movie scenes of girls blowing out candles with their friends and eating cake play like a slow projection in my brain. I lift my head from where it laid in my arms and look at the photos that I had tapped to the mirror. One of my mother on her honeymoon, she looks ethereal. Another of me, my sister, and my father, it is from two birthdays ago. I have gotten used to not having a mother for my birthdays but this is only the seccond one without a father. I decide that today I will try, try and be happy.

After a downpour of sobs I remember that it is not the weekend and I have work to do. So I wipe my tears and slowly meander out the door and onto the little path that leads from our cottage to the main property. Before heading out I grabbed my gardening tools and a basket. It takes an forty-five minutes to even get into town so I know I have a healthy amount of time to work before my sister gets back. I don't mind the work, it distracts me. I trim the weeds in the garden, clean dirt off the statues, water the plants and forage some mushrooms to take home.

Usually I would stay away from the house unless I had work to do inside but missus Foster, the previous owner, died a few months ago and now it lies empty. It's up for sale and so it's up to me and Sally to get it looking nicer than ever. Today I find myself pushing one of the side doors open and begin my wander through the mansion.

I love the house, most people find it creepy what with all the old furniture and long history. I find it comforting, it feels alive. I just hope that whoever buys it doesn't immediately bulldoze the property and send me and Sally packing. After everything we've lost, this house is the only thing that has stayed perfectly still. I climb the long carpeted stairs that stand elegantly in the foyer. I walk through long corridors while humming a sad sort of tune. I don't know what song it is, but it suddenly popped in my head. I stop at a dark red door and turn the metal handle. Inside is Mrs.Foster and Mr.Foster's old bedroom. In it is a grand four poster bed with burgundy duvets and a shiny gold chandelier hangs above. I gravitate towards the old trunk, in it lies what I'm looking for. I open the brass clasps and shield my face away from the smell of dust that exudes from the chest. I dig my hands through tissue paper, clothing, boxes and bags. I dig to the very bottom and strain my fingers to grasp something smooth and rounded. I pull out a old jewlery tin, it's made of blue velvet and sprinkled on it are metal and diamond stars, with one large star on the top. I open it and am met with more blue velvet and a old silver locket. It's small but bigger and heavier than most lockets and the chain is delicate but long. I slowly lift the cold metal up and carefully observe it. It is oval and has a swirled pattern around it with a old looking cross in the centre; the colouration is not as shinny as it once was, after all it is over 200 years old. The clasp takes some force to open and I try my best to be careful. Inside on one of the two pannels is a painted portrait of an eye.

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•

"Mrs.foster what's this?" My tiny hands grasp the tin and bobble over to missus Foster at her desk.

"Oh that? Now come here missy and I'll tell you" her soft aged hands lift me up and place me on her lap. She opens the tin and takes out the locket, opens the the locket. I "ooo" at the sight: a single emerald eye encompassed by pale skin and a raven eyebrow. "This is the first Mrs.Foster, her name was Amelia and she's the one the built this house." She spoke as if she was a mythical legend, and I was surprised to find that the late Mr.Foster looked exactly like (at least their eyes) the old Mrs.Foster.

"But why her eye only?" It was a bizarre idea to me, to only paint ones eye and not the whole face. "Its a lovers eye dear. Couples would have a painting made of eachothers eyes and wear them as brooches to signify that their were in a relationship."

"Oh how romantic! I want one when I fall in love. And Mrs.Foster has such a pretty eye, I wish mine was like that."

Mrs.Foster chuckles and smoothes a hand over my hair. "Tell you what, when your older you can have this locket and Amelia's eye. Only When your older."

"How much older?" I ask with a pout.

"Not much older" she reassured

To me, not much older meant a few weeks and definitely not years.

I gleefully jump and excitedly dream of the day she would give it to me.

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•

Looking now at the eye, it hasn't changed one bit. At this point I have completely given up on the idea of ever finding someone to have a Lovers Eye with but I'm contempt enough with having Mr.Foster's. Her eye will guide me, like a compass I think. I clasp the chain around my neck and let it dangle on my chest. I close the locket as to not damage the painting.

I hum my way back home and begin making a soup from the mushrooms I picked. Don't worry- I know their not poisonous; when I was little my favorite things were mushrooms. My father bought me a whole encyclopedia on them. After making the soup I eat it in silence, wash up and make sure there are leftovers for Sally. I climb the steps to my room, and plumet onto my mattress. I sink into it and pull the covers over my eye. I lie there and lie there and lie there. It must have been at least an hour.

"Hey! I'm home!" The door shuts and I wince at the thought of having to get up.

"I got strawberries, bread, candles and soap...oh and socks and lip balm!" She shouts. After not hearing a reply she bounds up the stairs and comes to kneel beside me.

"Oh honey, are you not feeling well?" She asks and I'm not quite sure if she means physically or mentally.

"I'm fine" I hush out. She then climbs into bed and gives me a hug.

"I know birthdays are hard, they are for me too, let's not spend yours moping about." She clings to me tight and I don't react.

"Besidessssss, I got your favorite dinner." That makes me smile a little.

"OK fine. But only becuase your so nice."

Before she can jump her way back downstairs she stops.

"Hey! Is that the locket?"

"Sure is." I touch my fingers to it and hold it up so she can have a look.

----------------------------------------------------

I'm not as happy as I should be but my gloom seems to have dissipated slightly. As if the downcast of grief has stopped to a drizzle. We sit on the brown leather couch downstairs next to the old wood burning furnace and eat our dinner. Beautifully handmade kaiserschmarrn, the way my grandmother made. It's warm and comforting and acts as a dinner and desert. On the TV plays our favorite movie: the 1954 classic Sabrina starring Audrey Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart. That film always made me feel special. I always felt a kinship to Sabrina, like her and I were on the outside sitting up in our tree watching the rest of the world be lovley. Sally sits right next to me: pigtails tie her shoulder length hair back and her feet are propped up on the coffee table. She yawns and leans her head in the crook my neck. At one point she gets up to put the dishes away and comes back with a small lavender colored bag.

"Happy birthday!" She says as she skips over to me and rejoins me on the couch. I take it from her, pull away the small blotch of tissue paper and take out the present. It's a cardboard rectangle and attached and six gorgeous hair clips. They are made of metal and are the kind that I've seen in antique shops. On each of them is a beautiful sparkly metal butterfly and on some of them were thin strings of crystals fastened to the point where the butterfly meets the clip. There were two of each colour: lavender purple, sunset orange and sage green.

"Thank you. Really, they're beautiful. I love them." I awed and pressed my palm to my heart.

"I saw them in the market and thought of you. I know it isn't much though."

"Its more than enough. I'll wear them every day."

We kept talking for a little longer but I started to feel the haziness seep back into my psyche. We say our goodnights and I make my way upstairs. I change from my nightgown-like dress and into my real nightgown, it's cotton and somehow even less detailed than the previous dress. I put the locket back in the tin, which I have placed on my bedside table. In the bathroom ajacent to my bed, I wash my face and brush out my hair with my boar bristle brush. I stare back at my tooth brush and contemplat whether or not I have the will to brush my teeth. I decide to, becuase it is my birthday after all. With that thought I grab the metal tin of Nivea cream from under the sink and aply it to my skin liberally. I sigh and turn on the turn table on the desk next to the bathroom door. The record playing is Al Bowly's Greatest Hits, it comforts me in the night. Crawling into bed I flick on the stained glass lamp that hangs directly above my bed. I shut my eyes but my thoughts are too rampant to rest. Tomorrow it won't be my birthday and life will stay the same. I wish I could have had a party, but how would I? The two close friends I do have are studying abroad, I write them letters from time to time. And I haven't been close to my extended family for a couple of years- since the funeral. Eventually the mix of crickets and the gentle hum of "Midnight the Stars and You" lull me to rest and I dream of nothing but white doves and sparkly butterflies.

----------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading! I really do appreciate it. I was thinking of making a tag list for this series but I'm not sure if anyone would want to be on it so comment or dm if you would want to be on it.

Take care of yourself!

Love, Cece

#fanfiction #oc #josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x oc #greta van fleet #the virgin suicides #twilight #oc story #romance #cottagecore

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muselixer · 2 years

Text

dumb things my friends and I have said: 2022!

part two: april - june apologies ahead of time for length! feel free to change pronouns if need be. warning for foul and dirty language, and capslock-implied yelling :)

“You get points for trying, Jesus said so.”

“Not gonna lie, I just want an excuse to be a huge dick in a fancy suit.”

“You’re sorry? You’re the one who shot orbeez into my soup.”

(maniac laughter) “I get to destroy the government!”

“I am NOT a closet pickle eater.”

“The real blackmail is the photos of the frosted tips.”

“Loving the Home Depot commercial remix.”

“This is what made his doctor’s degree disappear into the woods.”

“I drive myself to drink.”

“The frozen balls are gonna hurt more.”

“It’s a record, you dumb fuck.”

“Yeah, well Twitter’s a lying sack of shit― Oh.”

“Working here is going to begin my Joker arc.”

“I dunno how to explain this to you without breaking any HIPAA laws.”

“I was about to be really mad, and then I realized I couldn’t read.”

“Back in my day, we touched grass.”

“You’re so valid. I’m 24 and get carded at the mall.”

“Are we pillaging or not?”

“Okay why did this personality quiz just read me to filth.”

“I feel like if I told him ‘please don’t kill me I’m very mentally ill’ he wouldn’t do it.”

“Hearing that comment is the equivalent of McDonald’s Sprite.”

“Do I look like I know how to draw feet?”

“Can we maybe please be normal about literally just another human being?”

“You can’t gobble at me and expect me not to gobble back.”

“He may be qualified but he is also not...that.”

“Stop pretending to be a lesbian every time I’m near you.”

“Sorry for the lukewarm take, I’m gonna go ride my bike now.”

“You can chew ice cream with real teeth if you’re not a coward.”

“It’s not that hard to figure out, you just suck at trying.”

“Oh hang on, I can make a funny joke about this.”

“Post theft reverse pickpocketing.”

“How do we have the same brain?”

“WHY IS THERE A BIRD IN THE BUILDING?”

“I’m not here to fight spiders.”

“Imagine needing a GPS to get to McDonald’s.”

“Please don’t clap your ass for the kids.”

“He really sells water.”

“I’m not into toes!”

“That rat just fucked your girl.”

“If I were a crocodile I’d live in Florida.”

“They’re fucking high on volcano ash. Okay.”

“That would require your death, according to the lore.”

“Bitch I am on the ground.”

“This tastes so much.”

“I dug this grave, and so I lie in it.”

“I dunno, I think my tweets are kinda banger.”

“I’m too sexy and iconic to have a job.”

“I’m gonna go join my milkshake in the shadow realm.”

“Oh, hey, good job! You don’t have to get fucking plowed by a 2006 Saturn Ion!”

“Would you be mad if I showed up dressed as Spider-Man?”

“She’s juicy for her food.”

“I dunno man, I’m only certified in bird law.”

“Please do not arson the cacti.”

“You have been identified by the government as a huge bitch.”

“We should steal a cactus and get charged with a felony.”

“This is what Oklahoma does to a motherfucker.”

“He looks very pro-police.”

#ask meme #rp ask meme #sentence starters #rp starters

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hannahsmusings · 2 days

Text

Renee

*I was genuinely out of my comfort zone, having just got to Italy a few nights ago to start this new endeavor, the job I’ve been chasing for the past few years, and everything was still brand new* *Ferrari had paid for my brand new and very luxurious apartment and everything was just a whirlwind, now I was at this glamorous upscale bar with the entire team and everything just smelled of money and wealth and I was just felt like a fish out of water, trying to heed my mother’s advice of ‘faking it til you make it’ but it was hard to fake it when I kept gawking at the price of everything and the sheer luxury of it all* *everyone had been lovely to me so far, Italians always being the nice ones anyways, but I still felt uncomfortable, knowing that the champagne in my glass probably cost the price of my old apartment back in New York City* *the team principal, Fred, was introducing me to some people before his phone rang and he excused himself, pointing towards a small group by the bar, telling me to go introduce myself since the two drivers were there, having to make a good relationship with them since I’d be the one they’d report to for the next year and it was important that we got along, we didn’t want them to be unhappy and end up signing a contract for a different team at the end of the season* *I make my way over to the group, my interest piquing when I hear my name, deciding to hang back just a bit, sipping my champagne as I try to hear what they were saying about me* *I bite my lip as I notice one of the men, immediately recognizing him as Charles Leclerc, the ‘prince of Ferrari’, him seemingly being the one leading the conversation about me* *I had to be professional of course, but hell, I had eyes and he was so damn pretty it was hard to look away from him, photos did not do him any justice and that’s crazy considering he looks good in every single photo* *I smooth out my dress as I linger by the bar, shamelessly eavesdropping on my two drivers and their friends*

______________________________________

*i was full of adrenaline and excitement like usual for the beginning of the season, having been training so hard to be on top this year and this was the true beginning of me being able to show off all the hard work I’d put in, truly being so passionate about this job* *I was wearing my brand new fancy suit, loving all the benefits I got to this job and really beginning to enjoy the life of luxury, the brand deals, the fancy apartments ad of course the fucking elite cars, my eyes wide with excitement at the thought of my new ferrari I’d be driving* *I’d had a couple of drinks already, this being the last night I could properly let loose, truly in my element as I joke and laugh with the other drivers and team, speaking loudly and it being so obvious I had this natural charm where people flocked to me, being a natural leader and joker of the group, living for the moments where I could make the whole group laugh* Have you heard about Fred’s new assistant? Renee I think? Can’t find shit on her anywhere, she’s clearly new to the field..*laughs as the others do* Debrief is gonna be easy, she won’t have a fucking clue. *laughs louder, presuming you’d be new and not understand or still be oblivious to the routines and the rules, thinking I’d be able to bend you at our will and revelled in that idea, liking to have control, especially when the last person was an uptight man* What’s the betting she’s already a fan? Probably has my posters on her bedroom wall. *smirks arrogantly, playing up for the lads as they cheer and laugh, taking a sip of my drink and not noticing you beside us just yet as my back was turned*

#renee plot

0 notes

hope-m11 · 3 months

Text

𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎

Chapter 13

I haven't drank that much since my birthday. Zendaya and I are at a bar after a fancy meal. My high heels hurt my feet, but I don't want to take them off. The bar floor is too sticky for me. Zendaya takes another sip of her martini while I take one of mine, whatever the bartender made for me. I have no idea what it is, but it tastes really delicious.

,,Jersey?"

I look up from my drink at Zendaya. "Hmm." I do.

“We should go home slowly,” she says. She takes out her cell phone and types something.

I try to get up, but I'm so drunk that I have to hold on to the table. Zendaya immediately jumps up and helps me go outside. When we leave the bar, the paparazzi are already there taking their pictures. I try to avoid the camera flashes, but I find it difficult. My eyes hurt and I really need to pee. When Tom's car comes into view, we both quickly get in. I lean against the window when the bar is no longer in sight.

"Well Jersey." Tom's voice is full of amusement.

"Oh shut up Tom." I groan and close my eyes.

The two in front giggle. I'm tired and I just want to go to bed and I want Hayden to be with me and do naughty things with me. Hayden. I take my phone out of my bag and go to our chat.

I wait for Hayden to write, but nothing comes. So I'll write again.

Tom helps get out of the car and carries me on his shoulder to my room, he slowly lays me on the bed and presses a kiss on my forehead. Zendaya goes into the bathroom, I hear water, then sounds of cupboards opening and closing. Finally she comes into the room, puts a glass of water on my bedside table and an aspirin tablet next to it. Before they both leave my room, I hold both of their hands.

"I really love you," I say with my hiccups. ,,You are truly the best."

Tom and Zendaya both start laughing. They also tell me they love me and leave my room. I sit up and strip down to my underwear, then pick up my phone and look at the clock. 1:00 a.m. at night. Hayden probably needs to sleep, but I'll text him again anyway.

I giggle at myself, then sigh and lie down. Shortly afterwards I thought about sending him a picture of myself, but I quickly threw the idea away.

Exhausted from the alcohol, I lie down and pull the blanket over me and close my eyes.

The next morning I have a hangover that makes me want to stay in bed the whole time. But I pull myself off the bed and go to the toilet. After showering, I get dressed and take the empty glass and aspirin downstairs. I must have woken up again in the night and drank it. As soon as I'm in the kitchen, my family and Zendaya, who is practically part of it, fall into a fit of laughter. Confused, I poured myself a glass of water and sat on the bar stool. My mother, laughing, hands me a plate of pancakes.

“Why are you all laughing?” I ask with my mouth full.

They look at each other and laugh again.

None of them tell me anything, they laugh but then calm down again. When Poppy comes to me and barks at me, I kneel down next to her and see that her fur is full of glitter and her fur is full of hair ties. Poor thing, what did I do yesterday? Padd starts laughing again and I'm dying to know why. But they don't want to tell me. I quickly take the aspirin, swallow it with water and take Poppy in my arms, run up the stairs to my room and lay her on the bed, she immediately snuggles up to me. I carefully remove the hair ties from her fur and every now and then she whines and I apologize to her. Then I take her into the bathroom and put her in the bathtub. Poppy barks with joy. She loves water. I stroke her fur before turning on the water. Poppy is immediately under the water jet and sticks out her tongue. I would love to take a photo of her but since this morning I can't find my cell phone.

I rub her fur with shampoo and rinse everything off, she obediently closes her eyes and mouth. Now she is sitting on her bed and watching me clean my room.

"Hey." Zendaya pokes her head into the room.

"Hey," I say and wave her in.

She comes in and pets Poppy, she sighs contentedly. Behind Zendaya is Tessa, laying down next to Poppy.

Zendaya hands me my phone. “It was in the fridge.”

"Oh," I say, a little embarrassed. ,,Thanks."

She nods and has to smile.

"Do you want to tell me why you all laughed today?" I raise my eyebrow questioningly.

She shakes her head. "Believe me, you'll find out soon." She lays me down on my bed and I do the same. "You and Hayden really make a lovely couple."

I look at her and have to smile. “Thank you.” Looking at the ceiling, I sigh contentedly. "You know, Hayden is completely different."

She now turns her head towards me and I do the same. "He is loving, respects me and supports me no matter where and how." My cheeks redden a little. ,,I love him. And his daughter Briar Rose, she’s just so great and she’s mature for her age.”

Zendaya listens to me carefully and smiles. "He seems like a really good man."

I nod. ,,That's him."

Now she wiggles her eyebrows. "And how is he in bed?"

I put my hands on my face. My cheeks must be red. Laughing, Zendaya takes my hands away from my face. "Hey, we're talking about Anakin Skywalker here. Come on, tell me."

"Okay," I say and turn to the side. "He's damn good in bed." I throw a pillow at Zendaya when she asks me more details, but I don't give her any. This is too intimate for me, what Hayden and I do in the bedroom stays in the bedroom and since I know Hayden and I'm sure he's not the kind of man who tells our bed stories.

Chris, on the other hand, has occasionally dropped hints to his colleagues and friends. And I often told him that it would make me uncomfortable if he went into detail from time to time. The more I compare Hayden to Chris, I realize that Chris was a real asshole. Hayden, on the other hand, is a man who respects me.

After Zendaya leaves my room I immediately grab my phone, I sit up when I don't see any messages from him. I tap on our chat and blush with embarrassment. First I read the messages that I sent and then I watched the video that I also sent.

Me: Hey, handsome.

Me: What are you doing sweeter? I want you to do really, really naughty things to me.

Me: I want a baby.

Me: I want a baby with you. It should have your blue eyes.

I'll play the video.

Hayden, I really love you. And I really want you to make me a baby. A baaaabbyyyyyy.

Oh my God. How embarrassing! I'm sure he's thinking I'm crazy now. A baby? Yes, I want children and for a while I imagined what it would be like if I were pregnant by Hayden, but I pushed the thought aside because Hayden never mentioned that he wanted another child. Maybe that's why he didn't write or call. Did I possibly scare him off? Omg. I take a deep breath and call him. When he immediately picks up, I want to hang up again.

"Hello, sweet girl." I can hear in his voice that he wants to laugh, but he holds it back for love.

I throw myself back on the pillow. "Hello," I say quietly.

"Can't I get a hello, handsome, I really, really want to..." Before he can finish the sentence, I speak quickly.

“Just don’t finish the sentence,” I say pleadingly.

"Okay," he says. "Then how about this? I want a baby from you."

"Oh God." I groaned, glad he wasn't here because my face had turned the color of a tomato. "Hayden." I whine. "This is all so embarrassing for me."

"Oh sweet girl, you don't have to." He says it like it really isn't embarrassing, but it is embarrassing for me. "You know that video where you begged me that you wanted me to have a baby and then you wore these really really sexy underwear. Wow. Really sexy."

I'll get even redder if possible. Does he also wonder what it would be like for me to become pregnant by him?

"So you don't think I was embarrassing or childish?"

"No, sweet girl." he says seriously.

I'm so glad he doesn't find it embarrassing or childish. Poppy and Tessa come to me and lie on me, I stroke their fur and listen to Hayden as he tells me about Briar Rose. She is back with her mother and I would really like to say goodbye to her. The little girl has a special place in my heart.

“So let’s get back to the topic of babies.” He says and I groan.

,,Please don't." I say and feel ashamed again.

“When are you coming to me again?” he asks and I'm glad he changed the subject.

"I'll stay two more days and then I'll come."

"I'm really looking forward to doing really, and I mean really, really naughty things with you."

I moan softly because his voice sounded really, and I mean really, really rough and sexy. My panties got wet and I would love to fly to Canada to see him today. But I've spent most of my time with Hayden since the relationship and I've rarely seen my parents and brothers. Although I really miss him, I don't want to make the same mistake I made with Chris and neglect my parents and brothers again.

"Hey." I call and point to Tom. ,,You cheated."

He acts indignant. “No, I didn’t,” he shouts.

,,But. “You’re a cheater.” I say and get up. "You've been cheating since we were little."

Playing cards never ends well for us, it always ends in a fight. Tom is standing in front of me now and he still denies that he didn't cheat, but I saw it clearly.

"Stop lying like that, you cheater." I hit him on the arm.

Tom doesn't like this and grabs my leg and I fall backwards. "Don't call me a liar and a cheater, you idiots."

He now has me in a headlock, I try to pull myself out but I can't, then I give him a kick in the ribs. He gasps. Haha. Out of the corner of my eye I see my brothers having fun. Zendaya holds up her phone, laughing. He pulls my hair and when I get to his I pull it too.

“Hurt me Jersey,” he says.

“You too, Thomas,” I say.

As we both pull each other's hair and hit each other with our free hands, our parents intervene and pull us apart.

"That's enough," says my father, who is holding me.

"She started it," says Tom, trying that puppy dog look.

"That's not true," I defend myself. "He cheated."

"Noo-oo." Tom stands there like a little child.

I roll my eyes. „“Yeee-sss.“

"No more cards for you two." My mother takes the cards and puts them away.

Tom and I wanted to protest, but our father's look silenced us.

“Now you both apologize and hug each other.” My father gestures with his hand.

"I'm sorry." We say at the same time and hug each other. Tom then pulls my hair and then I pull his hair. “Stop it,” he says through gritted teeth. “You stop it,” I also say with gritted teeth.

“You two stop,” everyone says.

We all look at our hands still in each other's hair. Last pull and we both let go.

***

My parents took me to the airport. Now I'm sitting on the plane and reading my book. When I see a magazine with Chris in it and a brunette next to him, I'm curious and pick up the newspaper. The newspaper says that Chris has probably found his true love and that she is the one for him. There is a 16 year difference between the two. That lying asshole. I continue reading. My eyes widened. When I read that the two got married in September. He's married now! With a younger one!!! I don't know why my chest hurts, but it hurts. Maybe it's because, despite telling me he wants to be with an older woman, he thinks I'm a child. Was I not enough for him? Did I really act like a child? Or was I just a game to him? Was he serious about loving me? From the looks of it, not. Embarrassed, I put the magazine down and wipe away my tears, they aren't responsible for me missing Chris, no. They are there because I am deeply ashamed that I let a man like Chris Evans use me.

***

It's cold, so so cold. I stand in front of April's house with chattering teeth and wait for her to open the door. When Isaiah opens the door, I rush into the house with a quick hello. He laughs and pulls the door behind me. I have no idea why I thought it would be a good idea to go to April on a regular basis, although Hayden often offered to drive me. April is lying on the couch and stuffing herself with popcorn. When she sees me, she beams and tries to sit down, but I wave her off and tell her to stay put.

“The pregnancy looks really good on you,” I say, smiling and caressing her stomach.

"If I hear that from someone again, I'll give them a punch," she says angrily and stuffs herself with more popcorn.

Isaiah smiles at me apologetically, even though it's not bad for me, I smile at him anyway. After I walk from April and Isaiah to Hayden, he greets me with a passionate kiss. He takes off my jacket, I quickly take off my boots and we run into the bedroom, mouth to mouth. As he lays me on the bed he quickly undresses me, his eyes dark with lust and I whimper. I lie naked in front of him, he opens my leg and kisses my thighs. I moan as his tongue licks my folds, very slowly and then faster. When he's done, he kisses me and I taste myself. He quickly takes off his clothes and throws his clothes behind him and pounces on me again. Hayden looks down at me, his gaze is full of lust, he puts his forehead on mine and pushes into me with a jerk, I moan loudly.

“Yes yes yes,” I shout as his thrusts become faster. He lifts my left leg and places it on his shoulder. "Oh Hayden oh Hayden."

"Come sweet girl, come for me."

And I come with a loud scream but before I can rest he turns me on my stomach. I whimpered as he slid his hand down my back and then he hold my stomach and lifted me up a little and without warning he pushed into me. His thrusts become faster and my screams become louder.

"Yes yes yes Hayden I oh God I..." I can't talk anymore because he pulls me up to him, turns my head towards him and muffles my screams with his mouth.

When we both come together, he puts me on my back and I have the feeling that he is not finished with me, because he actually sits down so that his back is leaning against the bed part and he pulls me towards him up and I sink very slowly onto him. Even though I'm exhausted, I really want this. I slowly move on him until he grabs my hips firmly and pulls me up and down. He grabs my hair and kisses me hard, this all turns me on so much and when he starts whispering dirty things in my ear I ride him faster.

The story is also available on Wattpad.

Name: @Hopeee_m11

#chris evans #hayden christensen #hollandbrothers #tom holland #hollandsister

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kittrrrr · 1 year

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Rain Girl

Hello! Merry [late] Christmas, if you celebrate it! Happy holidays and a happy new year! I wanted to just tell y'all that. I'm sorry that I was late, but I was on a trip with my family, and we celebrated today. I wrote a one-shot for Ao3 a while ago, so here's to finally posting it here. === The first time I met her, she was skipping along without an umbrella, singing to herself. I got closer, entranced by the little figure I saw before me. Her yellow raincoat flared out as she spun.

"Hey? Uh, who are you?"

"-Part of where I'm going is knowing where I'm coming from." She sang sweetly, completely ignoring me.

"Um, can I have your name?" I asked, shuffling closer, gripping my umbrella tighter.

"Oh, none of us have names in this sorta world." The girl, who I now realize must have been my own age of seventeen, stopped mid turn to face me.

"Well, my name is Arnold."

"Keep your name, mister. I've got more important things to be doing." The girl skipped away, pausing a few times to twirl. I heard her pick up where she left off singing.

"I don't wanna be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately...:" Strangely enough, it wasn't the last time I saw her. The next time, it was simply misty instead. She was wearing a red spotted dress when I met her next.

"Ah, mister, it seems that we have both felt the pull of the god of water." She smiled out at the grey sea.

"No? But it is awfully pretty. I'm here to take photos. Maybe I'll get something good enough to frame." Taking photographs was a hobby that was quickly becoming an obsession.

"No, no, no!" She turned to me with that same smile. "The sea is not captured with a fancy gadget! You sing to it, and if you're lucky, you'll hear it singing back. That memory you must treasure, for the sea only sings to those he knows will listen."

"You're a strange girl, you know that?" I asked, her smile mirroring on my own face. She giggled, throwing her arms into the air and spinning. I had the urge to join, but I resisted the childish notion.

"You are not the first to tell me that, and you will not be the last! Sing! Move along, move along, like I know you do! And even when your hope is gone, move along, move along, just to make it through."

"Where's that from?" I stall. I was a horrid singer.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm sure you can sing!" I shook my head. It was almost like she read my mind.

"I'm sorry but I have to be going now."

"Silly useless attachments."

"Is it okay if I photograph you before I go?" The girl considers for a long second. I'm worried that I overstepped, since this is only the second time that I've ever talked to her.

"Things must be caught with time and passion, not a quick snap of a photo. Only if you will me let paint it later." I was startled at the time, but looking back it wasn't such a surprise.

"Alright. Just keeping looking at the sea." It was the only way I ever caught her in photos. It didn't seem right otherwise. In photos where she was looking at the camera... Those weren't really her, just a shell that she sometimes adopted. I took a photo with my phone. The colors seemed much brighter than they should have been. The red and white dress and the knotted strands of black hair somehow made the grey sea look... It was impossible to describe. I'd definitely got what I had wanted when I went down to the sea that day: A photo worth framing.

Still, I encounter the girl again. It was raining again. Her raincoat was blue this time, and she was sitting at the edge of the bridge. She was humming the song that she'd been singing the first time I'd met her.

"Hey?"

"Oh, it's you again, mister." She seemed off. I hopped up next to her. It eerie, because my city always gets a lot of fog in the ditches when it rains. It was like we sitting above a cloud. There was no indication of how long it would be to fall.

"What's up?" She sighed.

"Mister-"

"My name's Arnold."

"Arnold... No one wants me."

"There must be some one."

"The gods maybe. But no one to hold, or to love."

"Why?" For some reason, although I'd already just dismissed her as simply strange, I could not even begin to fathom someone hating the girl in front of me, or even ignoring her. She was just... Too... Her to be hated. She blinked and smiled.

"Maybe someone should know my name... Most may be nameless faces, but when one finds someone that really pays attention, everyone should know their name." I didn't know wether she was talking about herself or me.

"So let's try this again, yes? My name's Arnold."

"Cassia. It's nice to meet you." We shared a long moment of quiet. "Would you like to dance? The rain has given us a nice beat. It would be a shame to waste it." She swings her legs and jumps onto the sidewalk. I took her hand, and we danced to the beat of the rain, drumming monotonously on the pavement. She made it fun, and we wandered up and down the bridge, letting the rain pour. I now understood why she hadn't been with an umbrella the first time that I saw. It was impossible to keep up with the rain with something so cumbersome. It would've been quite the sight to anyone walking down the street when we danced, like what I saw when I first met Cassia.

But somehow I didn't care. It wasn't like there was anyone around. The next time I met Cassia, it was far from the dreamy, quiet, lonesome scenes where I was used to seeing her. I met her at my school. She was picking up her books from where she'd spilled them. When she looked up, for the first time I saw an expression other than dreaminess. Happiness. It had been so long that someone had reacted to seeing me with happiness that I didn't know how to feel. When I went home, the expression I usually saw on parent's faces was 'You're still here? When will you be gone?'.

"Thank you..." She said, standing up.

"I don't recall seeing you at school before." I said, somewhat guilty.

"Oh, no one really ever sees me until they know my name." Cassia said softly. She was speaking much more softly now then what she normally spoke at. It only served to make me feel worse. I gave her the photo that I'd taken that day at the sea. I'd printed it out.

"Thanks. This looks like it will be fun to paint." We parted ways. I saw her many months later. We were at the seaside, and it was raining. It'd been raining more then normal for our area. And a long time had passed since that last chance meeting in the fall. It was spring now, and the rain was warm. I nodded to her; we didn't need greetings anymore. The sea was churning, greyish-green. Mist stopped me from looking far out into the bay.

"I think, now that I'm done with highschool, that I'd like to fly free." She pointed out through the mist to the sea we could see. "What will you do? Follow your dreams, or become another cog in the unjust machine of the world?"

"I... Don't know what I'll do?" This wasn't the answer she was looking for, though. She sighed. "Cassia? What are you thinking about?"

"I've got a world to see, my dear, and there was only one person that I wanted to see it with." Too late I realized who she was talking about. She planted a kiss on my lips- my first- and ran into the sea, disappearing quickly as the first that we had met. That was the last I saw of her. For ten years. I found love again, but could not stay with it. The girl with the strange way of seeing the world was forever stuck in my head. As well as the lines she was singing the first day that I met her. What song was that too? I could not rest until I found my answers, although I doubted that the world held any for me.

But then I saw the the photograph that I'd given her, painted, and standing in a gallery with another, of herself and me sitting on that bridge, looking down into the mist. I'd found her. She had become quite famous, though no one knew anything about her. They could only give me the city where she lived. That was enough. I knew how to find her. It was raining. I was waiting at a bridge.

"I don't wanna be-" Her voice rang clear out. She nearly whirled past me.

"Hey? Cassia?" My voice was enough for her to stop whirling.

"Arnold?" She faced me.

"I'm sorry." The words come tumbling out before I can stop them.

"Oh, Arnold, why you would you ever need to be?" She asked.

"You- You just left and- and I wasn't sure what to do- to think!"

"I thought you would have know me better by now." She smiled.

"I don't think I'll ever figure you out."

"Well, I've finally figured myself out. Do you know yourself?"

"That feels like it takes a lifetime." She hopped onto the bridge's railing. I join without hesitation.

"Yeah, it sure does..." She leaned her head on my shoulder. After a while, I had to tell her.

"Do you wanna know how I found you?" She says nothing. "I asked about a painting in the gallery near me."

"Which painting was it?"

"The one you said that you'd paint from the photo I took of you at the seaside."

"I knew it..."

"What?! How did you know?!"

"There are somethings that take a lifetime. Getting to know me is one of those!" She smiled.

"You and your cryptic answers!" Cassia seemed so much more carefree now, and I tell her so.

"The feeling of being loved... It does a lot for a person." I knew. I kissed her. It didn't even seem like we sitting on the edge of life, in the rain.

I guess I just like mysteries. She's certainly a big one. I'll have the rest of my life to figure her out.

But I never did ask what song she liked to sing so much.

The End

#strange little rain girl

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