#so I just had to explain it the old fashioned way…… by showing an X-ray of my fucked up legs LMAO
Text
So embarrassing when ppl are like “what’s your disability” and I have to explain that I can neither spell nor pronounce my condition fhdjdbdj
#I know some cheeky bastard is gonna be in the comments like what’s your disability 😏#I literally can’t spell it I’d have to pull up my diagnostic papers from somewhere in my filing cabinet#my crush (who I gave permission to ask this question) was lie#*like what’s your condition? and I was like…#I can’t spell it#and she was like oh that’s okay#and I said I can’t pronounce it either.#and she was like……. okay?#so I just had to explain it the old fashioned way…… by showing an X-ray of my fucked up legs LMAO#disabled#disability#mobility aid#wheelchair user#wheelchair#physically disabled#chronic pain#cane user
122 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stardew Impact [Stardew Valley+Genshin Impact x Reader]
Part 2/3 Zhongli, Xiao
Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”
(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE ROUND TWO)
Genre: Fluff
Others
Diluc and Kaeya
Albedo and Childe
(A/n): This was meant to be part 3 but I couldn't wait to write xiao. Plus Ive been writing Albedo for almost the whole month already Word count_2.6k
-------
Xiao
• Thrown in an unfamiliar environment puts Xiao on high alert. Instincts kick in and his hand subconciously grabs for his spear. Nothing. Not even his vision activated. Xiao's gaze darts all over before landing on your figure. He sighs in relief, you're safe, that much he can decipher as of now.
• Stripped of his power, left with only claws and teeth (if must) to protect you from any dangers, he was ansty with every little thing.
• The villagers are so nice??? For what reason must they have to act so friendly to strangers (Xiao wonders). The Mayor even granted you two a vast farmland free of charge.
• Shortly he realized he no longer had his karmaic debt. Xiao wasn't sure how to live his life in this state. He dedicated his entire existence to years of slaughter and suffering that it became the only thing he knew. He won't admit it of course, he'll just throw in scoffs and remarks about how mundane activities are a waste of time when in reality, he just has no clue on how to handle them.
• Thats why the first day was difficult as you both try to figure out how to plant parnsips. Deciding it was better to go with an experiment, you split the share of seeds in half and used what basic knowledge you had on farming to finish the job. Xiao on the other hand tried copying what you did….though the outcome wasn't so desirable it was a mess. (His trained hands have taught him to be on the rough side).
• He doesn't bother socializing with the townspeople even though he has no karmaic debt to worry about. Xiao thinks you're more than enough anyways so what's the point?
• Robin is the only person who can tolerate him for obvious reasons (cough Sebastian cough) she knows exactly how to deal with his personality type. His glares don't faze her, she simply thinks its just a teenage phase of some sort.
• Eventually they become mutuals, Xiao thinks Robin is similar to Verr Goldet in a way. Since he's the one who does the heavy labour of chopping down trees and mining stones for building upgrades, he gets a chance to visit her house quite often. He comes back with lots of recipes too.
• You find out that his adepti blood never left him. Xiao doesn't need sleep so you better believe it when he tells you the next morning that he spent the whole night watering all 300 of your crops (watering is the only process he's good at for farming).
• Sometimes you catch him staring out of the window, wondering what he may be thinking. Life was so much more different, almost hard to recognize. Was this real? Is it okay for it to be real, just this once? Ever since he committed his duty to Morax, Xiao didn't dream of a time when everything would be peaceful. Yet here he is, no longer a weapon but on a journey to find out what it's like to live as a normal person.
• Spring: Every morning you find him kneeling behind the cabin with the pet cat (yes, cats seem to suit Xiao very much). He just stares at them, hesitant if he wanted to pet their fur or rub their chin. So he continues to glare intensely, scaring your cat away :(
• Whenever you wanted to attend any of the town's festivities, Xiao wouldn't even hide his distastefulness but goes with you regardless. Why do mortals consider hiding eggs and finding them a fun activity? And what kind of a name is Flower Dance? Can't they just call it a dance?
• Though…he does like the sight of you wearing a flower crown. Xiao likes putting stuff in your hair.
Since setting foot upon this new world, time seemed to have slowed down to the point that almost everything felt like an eternity. And you didn't mind, with him by your side, you wouldn't mind if it did last forever.
The lull of the grass was the only sound Xiao could hear as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your lap. You maneuvered across his scalp in small, subtle motions, surprised with how warm he felt against the heat your palm. He stirs a little and lets out a soft breath before turning his face to lay on the side.
You were slightly intrigued by the yaksha's new demeanor. From far away, Xiao was an intimidating man, even during the first time you laid eyes him, his presence felt similar to a knife pointing at anyone who dares to come too close. But now, the face that usually held his signature annoyance melted into something you never thought you'd see as the sun rays brushed against the surface of his fair skin. You observed the way his dark eyebrows stayed in a relaxed arch. The red crescents lining right above his beautiful long lashes and the sound of soft snores through parted lips. It was hard to believe that this man was the same person who claimed to have ended a thousand lives through thousands of years.
Did he fall asleep already?
Gently moving away the strands away from his cheekbone, hovered your gaze above him and whispered, "I thought adepti don't need rest."
"Hmph," Xiao responds, though there was no harshness in his tone, "Quit trying to be difficult, I didn't tell you to stop."
The smug grin on your face only widens. You lean downward and said to his ear, "And what's the magic word~?"
Xiao sighs at your antics. You were truly pushing your luck today and he simply didn't have the patience to entertain you. Without a warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down, foreheads pressing until you were but a breath away. The adepti conquers, he does not plead.
• Summer: As expected, your parnsnips weren't able to grow as much. Thus, this season was going to be the one to make up for the lost profit. Xiao is very good at hunting, perhaps the best in the entire town. Though the way he catches fish is rather peculiar, said by the folks. He prefers to carve a spear made of wood and repeatedly stabs the lake until results show. Xiao dislikes the old fashioned way, he says its unproductive and it unecissarily takes too much time.
• But as much as he scared the whole town, they were extremely grateful when he cleaned up the slime issues happening in the mines. You could say that he grew very popular since then and eventually mustered up the courage to greet him a hello whenever he passes by.
• You nudge him to reply back. Xiao usually shoots you a glare but slowly, he learns the courtesy of acknowledging someone's prescence.
• Fall: You woke up to a burnt smell coming from the kitchen. Xiao just thought he would return the favour since you always worked so hard. (He was actually trying to figure out what a 'whisk' was. It was no wonder why there were eggshells in the dish!)
• You realized that Xiao was taking more initation compared to before. At night, when you thought the animals were actively jumping in the barns, the noise was actually from Xiao trying to adjust himself to the ways of tending the field. After learning what TV was, he would always switch to the channel "Livin off the land" to gain some insight. Truly, Xiao was greatful even though he knew he eventually had to return to his duties, he wanted to utilize the current days the best way he could. And what better way was it to just make you happy in return?
• Winter: This was the season to test the accumulation of Xiao's abilities: you caught a cold and he had to manage everything in his own. Xiao scolded you for not wearing enough and being too careless but at the same he considered that you must've been working too hard.
• Goes to Robin for help. She basically became his mom now. Prepares the food and leaves them in the fridge, she teaches Xiao how to use the phone in case he needed any help and also lets him know where all the essentials are.
• Xiao stayed by your side the whole time even though you told him you'd be fine. But he refuses, he may no longer be a gaurdian but he was your gaurdian. That role never changed.
~~x~~
Zhongli
• You wake up on a soft bed with Zhongli sitting at a chair nearby. He hands you a cup of brewed water but you're still blatlantly confused. Seems like everything was taken care of by Zhongli, it ends up with him explaining everything to you.
• The folks instantly assumes you both as a married couple. Who could blame them? He did carry your unconcious body all the way to town while asking for a local doctor. You can bet that the ladies wish they were you at that moment. Zhongli took care of everything, including with the contract with the new farm.
• It didn't take long for you both to adjust to the new lifestyle. Zhongli's accumulated knowledge was enough to last all four seasons. Days past by peacefully as you shared the tasks. He'd place down the stone paths towards the gate and you busied yourself with decorating the house. After that was done, Zhongli would rest upon the rocking chair outside your door (like the grandpa he is) and sometimes you'd join him in one reading session. His voice was soothing, you eventually dipped into a slumber as the evening grew colder. Just like always, your beloved brings his arm to encapsulate you from the wind, brushing his thumb against your skin subconciously while you snore softly into his shoulder.
• In a way, the townsfolk were right. You both do act like a married couple. It's basically domestic life with Zhongli in a nutshell.
• He gets connected with Gunther and lands a role in the Museum. Since he's there so often, Zhongli also manages to be acquainted with Elliot as well. Two men who have a common interest with books while speaking in poetic prose. Their conversation would last for hours to the point Gunther had to kick them out of the library!
• Veeeery good with the children, not in an entertaining way but its just the aura he reeks. Penny usually had trouble dealing with Vincent since he never seems to be able to focus but the minute Zhongli speaks, he's all ears. Not only that he was also very good with the elderly. He even recommended some herbs George could take to soothe his back issues.
• Problem is that he still forgets to bring his wallet and Childe isn't here to save him. So once you stepped foot into the Stardrop Saloon and Gus calls you over, he tells you about the cost he owed to his tab….
• But this tranquil life full of genuinity and deprived of sovereignty, he was overjoyed to be able to spend it with you. Because he knew you were unlike him, that all humans were born with an expiry date. He knew so well that after every new greeting, he would have to face the goodbyes over and over until the world eventually came to an end. He knew you were also going to be part of those many goodbyes while he would still be here.
• But as Zhongli walks amongst the fallen leaves, he remembered the beauty that carries within every new beginning. They brought him to you and he would never hesitate to trade his gnosis for it.
Spring: You shot up your bed when Zhongli blast the TV at full volume. He apologizes, saying that he was simply trying to change the channel. You figured it was best for him to go outside before he somehow glitches the screen until it couldn't repair itself (Robin charges for repairs).
• Every thursday you both go to Pierre's store to complete your grocery shopping. He offers to push the cart as you fill the basket with all the necessities (plus it saves you the trouble of having him tossing whatever he sees without looking at the price tag).
• Every afternoon you order a take out from the Saloon, sharing the meal while sitting at the fountain's edge near the community center. Every evening Zhongli would take you to explore the rest of the vast farmland, discovering places you weren't even aware of. It was no wonder why everyone thought you were a married couple.
• Summer: Since the cabin was too small for a bathroom, you guys would have to travel up the mountains in order to get to the Spa house (cue sweatiness x10).
• The concept of hotsprings was derived from Inazuma so it was no surprise that Liyue eventually took it after him. Zhongli had collected some incense from foraging items over the past few months, he knows whats up. But overall he gives the best bath sessions (hands down) and you were the one who insisted in joining him. He was a gentle and sweet lover, always putting your needs before his. Ancient artifacts and old history books have always been precious to him, he treated you no differently.
The heartbeat of the oceans continues to rock back and forth until they brush up on the sandy shore, washing away the two pairs of footprints left behind by a man and a woman.
Gold against gold, his amber eyes reflected against the scenery. Millions of lights flashed among the sea when the sun began to climb down from the sky, it's rays hugged across the valley like an ethereal glow bestowed by the heavens as summer's wind brought even more warmth than what he had currently felt. You trance ahead of with the same light shaping around your form.
"Oh hey there's another rainbow shell," you waved at him before running off, "I'll be back!"
How is it that you still continue to shine like gold in his memories?
Zhongli suddenly ponders at the chapters laying ahead of him. He spent so many years turning each page without ever reaching a conclusion, forever searching the fabled happy endings written in fairytale books, but he knew his immortality wouldn't grant him that wish.
Thus, the formal archon raised his pen and reweaves his own story. He envisions his future with you by his side, engraving every detail until it was immortalized in his memories.
Perhaps I shouldn't keep her waiting.
With a renewed resolve, Zhongli clutches the gemstone tightly in his palm, he seals the page with the final contract between your future and his.
• Fall: After getting your first house upgrade, it was time for the next event: the ceremony. Yes, Zhongli would only have a wedding if Liyue traditions were involved. Everyone was invited of course, they were quite intrigued with the flashy setup such as lanterns and fireworks (you were a little worried with where he got the budget for such items) and Zhongli even educated Gus about some recipes he can use for the Saloon.
• You found out that Zhongli was saving all his money for this day (it was no wonder that he couldn't pay for his tab!). Old habits die hard, it was a shame that he didn't have his powers to craft the right items, but at least he got to sea you in a traditional eastern dress (it's the part he was looming forward to the most).
• Fall is the best season. One you wouldn't forget.
• Winter: Ah he finally learns how to use technology after three seasons. He only knows two channels from the TV which was 'Livin off the Land' and the weather channel. Zhongli oftens talks to himself as he tries to figure out more mechanics, he seems to be extremely absorbed in the most basic things.
• The miner of the house. But instead of using them to upgrade tools and donating them to the museum, Zhongli likes to keep some of them for collection. You could say your house also had a little museum in the other room.
• Romcom movies and soap operas. You can't change my mind that this is what you both spend your time watching as the snowstorm rages outside.
#genshin impact#stardew valley#genshin impact headcanons#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#xiao headcanons#zhongli#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact xiao#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact imagines#genshin scenarios#genshin imagines#genshin impact zhongli#genshin xiao#genshin zhongli#nya-writes
470 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kryptonian Marinette
Marinette is a kryptonian from a parallel universe. In her universe Krypton was never destroyed, her birth name was Mar'i-netel (Pronounced Mar'i-Net-L). However shortly after her birth, she and her parents were attacked. Her parents were killed and the attacker decided to use Mar'i-netel in an experiment. (I don't know what it would be so be creative) The experiment went terribly wrong killing the murderer and transporting Mar'i-netel to the Justice League's universe with nothing but a tattered blanket showing her name.
She is found by Tom and Sabine who immediately take her to the hospital worried for her health. They continue to visit her at the hospital. When a month goes by and no one comes forward the couple decide to adopt the bright eyed little girl. Their family and friends are ecstatic and in celebration they open their bakery a week later.
The couple quickly discover Marinette is not a normal little baby when she sneezes and everything on the table goes flying. Sabine decides it is best for Marinette to be homeschooled. Tom agrees and gets in touch with one of his college friends, who graduated with her teaching degree. Allison agrees to be Marinette's teacher and actively helps the girl control her powers as she gets older.
They slowly gain a list of what Marinette can and can't do. Invulnerability, enhanced hearing, flight, x-ray vision, and superhuman strength.Allison teaches her how to act as if she doesn't have powers. They develop the person of Marinette being clumsy as to hide the possibility of her having powers. Allison also introduces her to the world of fashion, and soon Marinette has two dreams. Being a fashion designer and finding out what happened to her birth parents.
It isn't until Marinette is 12 that they allow her to attend normal schooling, reminding her that around others she must never respond or use her birth name. When she starts she is nervous but makes sure to keep up her clumsy appearance. Soon everyone in class sees her as a practically defenseless and clumsy girl. Everyone except Chloe Bourgeois who easily spotted her acting, having Butler Jean raising her had done wonders for the girls intelligence and observation skills. After two months her and Chloe have a beautiful friendship. Chloe is still a bit mean, but she catches herself and apologizes in her own way, which tends to be expensive items that have to do with the person's favorite hobby.. Soon Chloe and Marinette are spending almost every day together. Chloe even becomes Marinette's model for the online store she is creating. Chloe discovers Marinette's powers when she comes over unannounced and finds Marinette literally hovering off the ground. Her legs crossed with her laptop resting on them.
Chloe- What the hell?
Marinette- I can explain.
Chloe- I sure hope you can!
Marinette- Ah well-this is a bit harder than I thought.
Chloe snorted, rolling her eyes, coming fully up the stairs so that Marinette could tell her with a little privacy.
Marinette tells Chloe the truth about what happened and how she has no idea who her birth parents are. When alone together Chloe starts to call Marinette by her birth name. Sabine and Tom are quick to accept Chloe into their small family. She also points out that Marinette has powers similar to Superman.
"Superman??"-Marinette
"Honestly Mar'i! How can you not know Superman!? He is a famous superhero!"-Chloe
"The only famous people I know are people in fashion and occasionally music Chloe!"-Marinette
Chloe immediately shows Marinette everything about Superman. The girls spend hours pouring over information about Superman and the Justice League. Chloe 100% believes they are related in some way, dark hair and blue eyes, not to mention their powers. Marinette is silent for a while staring at the picture before acknowledging that they do look alike.
"Chloe, I love Maman and Papa but I really want to know why my parents aren't here. At first I thought they may have died, but now, knowing there's a man old enough to be my father with the exact same powers as me. Now I keep wondering if they got rid of me."
Que emotional session between Marinette and Chloe, after they get their emotions out Marinette decides that she doesn't want to contact Superman. That she doesn't want to find out if they are related or not. Both girls leave the topic alone, however Marinette can't get the thought of Superheros out of her head.
'I could help people. I could save lives, yes not many but I can still make a difference.'
She starts slowly training her powers more with the help of Chloe, who gets her father to install a personal Gym with no cameras.
Meanwhile in school she is still a clumsy Marinette but she is making friends fast though some of them avoid her when she is with Chloe. Both her and Chloe understand why and while a little upset they both let it go. After all, years of bullying can not be forgotten in half a school year. The girls don’t let this hold them back though they excel better in each other's company. Both girls noted that they prefer to have Marinette away from Chloe, that whenever they were separate they were always trying to get Marinette to do things.
Marinette being her kind self did what they asked of her but never over did with her best work. She agreed with Chloe that she shouldn’t if they weren’t going to give her anything in return. They only received her best work on their birthdays when Marinette felt they deserved free work.
She kept herself at a distance from the class being Friendly but not as friendly as she was with Chloe. It came to her advantage that she had super hearing. She often did her best not to listen in on conversations but she couldn’t help when she heard her name. She was happy to find Rose, Juleka, Nathaniel, Nino, and Max really did like her, and that they only kept their distance because they didn’t know if they could trust Chloe. She happily explained this to Chloe, who kept her emotions in check, but Marinette could see the gears turning in her head. She wasn’t surprised to find out the next weekend that Chloe had invited them to their usual weekend sleepover that was being held at Chloe’s suite at Le Grand Paris. Both girls were happy when they accepted causing the small group to become much closer. Marinette was happy when the others noticed for themselves that Chloe wasn’t mean on purpose, rather it was how she tried to relate to her mother and a defense mechanism.
The group of Seven flourished together, they quickly became the top students at their school and leaders in their separate clubs only sharing a few together. Marinette and Nathaniel had an Art club together, Max and Chloe had a Politics club together. While Nino, Juleka, and Rose had Foreign language club together.. They all had one club in common though, The Worlds club which they had created together with Ms. Mendeleiev as the supervising teacher. The club was dedicated to learning more about other countries, each student specializing in which countries their families came from. They also had an end of the year trip like no other as long as they reached their goal, which wasn’t a problem thanks to Marinette and Chloe’s excellent plans. Together the seven were able to pull off all their fundraisers surpassing their goals by quite a bit every time.
Their first trip had been amazing, they decided to only visit three countries and spend a week in each. Ms. Mendeleiev was more than happy to chaperon, she didn’t have high expectations but this was better than any class trip she’d been on. They went to Spain, Italy, and Switzerland, posting the trip every step of the way, though they all had to ignore comments from their class. Some complaining that they didn’t invite them, and others complaining that all they did was go to Disney Paris. They felt sad when they came back but they were more than happy to be home, even though they all had sleepovers at each other’s house until the beginning of the school year.
They had one last sleepover the night before their first day back, Butler Jean having promised their parents they’d all be asleep early and at school on time. Together they spent the time talking about their plans for the next school year. The next day they all were dropped off in Chloe’s limo. Everything was going fine until MArinette noticed an old man stepping in the car of a truck. She rushed at him enhancing her speed only slightly and quickly grabbed the man pulling him out of the way. After a short talk she smiled brightly telling him to be more careful before hurrying towards her worried friends. None of them noticed the man still staring at Marinette as she entered her school with her group of friends.
That was the day Marinette became Ladybug, however it wasn’t just her and Chat Noir. No because when Marinette found Tikki it just so happened that her six closest friends were there and saw Tikki as well. It was decided shortly after defeating the first Akuma that they decided they were going to help Marinette all they could.
#DC comics#DC Universe#DC Heroes#ml x dc#superman#justice league#miraculous marinette#marinette dupain cheng#chloe bourgeois#miraculous ladybug#miraculous fanfic#miraculous au#miraculous fandom#miraculous nathaniel#miraculous max#miraculous rose#miraculous juleka#nino lahiffe#Kryptonian marianette
527 notes
·
View notes
Text
53. [4:07 pm]
➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader
➳ genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff, baker!au, baker!yugyeom, exchange student!y/n
➳ word count: 2,040 words
➳ summary: “Sit down, I’ll get it.”
➳ author's note: rach-stop-mentioning-food-in-every-single-timestamp-challenge: failed. just the thought of baker!yugs and bread has me feeling all soft and gooey inside. which is why i whipped this one up! it has been a phat minut since i last wrote so yea :”) (also i should mention italicised are korean!!) regardless i hope this will help brighten up your day a little!! sending many warm hugs xx
//
Your phone screeched from its resting place on the other side of your room, signalling the start of your day. It was strategically placed atop your wooden, old-fashioned dresser, with the sole purpose of motivating you to get out of bed and turn the damn thing off.
With a groan, you stretched all four of your limbs, releasing a satisfied yawn as your joints popped after a good nights’ rest.
It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it sneaked past the cracks the half-open blinds, painting your tiny studio apartment with lazy signs of life.
You dragged your sleep-ridden body to the dresser, still reluctant to start the day after what was an immensely taxing Friday night. Having just arrived in this bustling Korean city a mere two weeks ago, you were somewhat proud of yourself for landing a part-time job to support yourself when you started your semester of exchange. The only problem was, it happened to be a bartending job in a rowdier part of Seoul, commonly patronised by sleazy middle-aged men and their younger lady companions.
It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, anyways. Your Korean was still very much at an elementary level, which didn’t prove to be a hindrance in the bar you worked at. Most of the drinks were named in English, and the owner of the bar, a surprisingly kind, motherly lady in her sixties, paid you well above the minimum wage.
Still, it was your second Friday shift ever, and it clearly took its toll on you. Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you cringed. The eyebags under your eyes were so dark it could’ve easily been mistaken as a smoky-eye look gone wrong; your lips were awfully chapped and an alarming shade of red, while a few nasty pimples threatened to break through the surface of your skin.
In other words, you looked like a wreck.
Grabbing your phone, you checked the time. Ten minutes past four. Oh no, you winced internally. You were going to be very late if you didn’t leave your house in the next fifteen minutes. As though an internal switch flipped on, you turned the shower to full blast and stepped inside, sucking in your teeth as the cold water splashed against your skin.
In eight minutes flat, you were tugging on your beat-up sneakers and dashing for the elevator in your only pair of clean, non-alcohol-stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt that you conveniently picked off the pile of dry clothes on your sofa. You jammed the down button a couple of times, all while checking the time on your phone.
“Shit,” You cursed under your breath. 4:19. You couldn’t wait any longer.
Throwing all caution to the wind, you sprinted down the fire escape and did not stop for a single breath until you reached the final destination: a charming little bakery across the road from your apartment.
Rushing to the bakery just before closing time had become a habit for you. Amidst the chaos of moving and finding your feet in this new city, the bakery and its never-ending stream of patrons were your source of stability. Not only was it less busy and crowded during the evening, but it was also much easier for you to snag a couple of good bargains in the form of randomly-packaged, discounted breads.
The fact that the cute baker was the last one in store and in charge of closing up was just an added bonus.
//
A high-pitched, annoying chime broke him out of his daze. With a groan, Yugyeom straightened his slumped figure and stretched his arms above his head, releasing a satisfied sigh as his backbone cracked.
It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it flooded through the drawn, white lacey curtains, painting his grandfather’s bakery with calm and relief; a peaceful conclusion. The end of daylight was drawing near.
He wiped a stray trail of saliva off the corner of his mouth before sucking on a mint. Checking the clock that hang above rack upon empty rack which usually contained baked goods, his palms inexplicably grew clammy.
4:27, Yugyeom mused. He shook his head to clear his spiralling thoughts. Keep it together, dummy. Just because she came the past few days doesn’t mean that she’ll come today too. She has her own life, her own friends, maybe even a boyfri-
Oh?
Just as his mind was about to veer off course and crash into the thorny garden of unrequited love, Yugyeom caught sight of a blurry figure at the corner of his eyes. Intrigued, he stood up straight and watched as you appeared in front of the bakery’s double doors. For a few seconds, you simply clutched your knees and huffed and puffed. Yugyeom could barely stop the shit-eating grin that split across his face and had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to avoid looking like a fool.
Then, you did the unexpected. From the back pocket of your jeans, you pulled out your lip balm and applied it on your lips, using the bakery’s glass window as a mirror. At that, Yugyeom threw his head back in a hysterical fit of laughter.
It was hard for him to explain the feeling in his chest, really. The first time you walked through the doors of the bakery, eyes twinkling with pure wonder and amazement as you browsed the array of baked goods like how a girl would admire a display of diamond rings, he was screwed. You captivated his interest as you fumbled for the right number of coins to pay for your discounted breads, tongue stuck out and head tilted adorably while doing so. He gave you, the damsel in distress, a helping hand, by laying all your coins out on the counter and ordering them from lowest to highest value. Probably not the most helpful of gestures, but Yugyeom liked to tell himself that he was performing his civic duty by welcoming a visitor of Korea through non-verbal currency explanations and an introduction to the locals’ favourite breads, pastries and drinks. That evening, the two of you sat on the high table by the window, slowly savouring melon breads, injeolmi toasts, ang butter or red bean butter breads and an assortment of cream cheese breads. While the breads were wonderfully fluffy and the sweetness was at an acceptable level, Yugyeom instructed you to wash it down with an iced Americano.
Since then, the mere thought of the bakery, going to the bakery, its breads and pastries, its drinks and Yugyeom coated your insides with sweetness. Admittedly, the reason why you kept visiting the bakery was to create more memories with Yugyeom and ride the amazing sugar rush you felt whenever you were around him.
After rearranging your hair for the nth time, you bravely pushed open the doors and walked in at 4:29pm.
“Hello!” You called out in Korean as you waved at him, a wide smile plastered on your lips. There was an obvious language barrier (you with your kindergarten-level Korean and him with his Game of Thrones-standard of English), but it wasn’t obvious. The two of you came up with creative ways to break it down.
“Hi Y/N! Sit down. I’ll get it.” Yugyeom answered in English, emerging from behind the counter with his trusty English-Korean dictionary and a matcha latte he prepared in anticipation of your arrival. He walked towards you with an air of confidence, reminding you of a model in a fashion show despite wearing his typical slacks and white button-up, with sleeves rolled up and cross drop-earrings adorning his ears. Yugyeom quickly set the items down before pulling out a chair, nodding towards it to encourage you to sit.
You muffled a giggle at his gentlemanly actions, but complied, nonetheless. You glanced over to the boy, sipping on the creamy drink as he retrieved two large plates from the cake fridge. Sure, the assortment of cakes should have been the main attraction, but your eyes drifted and settled on the stern look of concentration on his face and his prominent collarbones peeking out of his shirt. Unbuttoned, you assumed, as he was going to be off work soon.
You were halfway through the drink when Yugyeom returned to the table. He noticed this and didn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you about it. “Is it really good?”
“Thirsty. I just woke up.” You admitted, cheeks heating up in slight embarrassment.
Yugyeom’s wholehearted laughter filled the entire bakery.
“H-hey! Bad boy… Mean…”
“No, I…” Yugyeom stifled another round of laughter as he tried to pull himself together. “Cute. You wake up, come to see me in bread house.”
“Not ‘bread house’, ‘bakery’.”
“Ah, thank you. Bakery.” He tested the word on his lips, getting used to the pronunciation. “Bakery…”
“What are these?”
Yugyeom handed you a small cake fork while taking a seat. “Here. This plate is for tarts, and this one is for cakes. The tarts have the same filling – custard. But we use different fruits, like strawberries, berries, grapes and peaches. Whatever’s in season, really. Strawberries and cherry tarts are really popular in winter. Try some!” He reverted back in Korean whenever he was explaining, which was a great opportunity for you to pick up new vocabulary.
It was also a fantastic opportunity to try delicious pastries. You rotated through the entire plate painted in shades of pinks and green, taking a bite of each tart. Yugyeom just sat there, head in his palms, and admired the slight changes in your expression whenever you tried a new flavour. As creepy as it sounds, watching you eat the food he prepared was gradually becoming his favourite pastime.
“Cherry! That one is the best! It’s…” You quickly reached for the dictionary, softly muttering to yourself as you thumbed through the pages. “Here, acid. Acid, not too sweet. The strawberry one too.” Your eyes crinkled at their edges as they met his intrigued orbs, proudly smiling at yourself for learning a new word today.
“The word you’re looking for is ‘acidity’. ‘Acid’ is for chemistry.”
“Acidity?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Yugyeom reached over, his huge palm caressing the top of your head before ruffling your hair. You pouted and feigned annoyance, all while your heart squeezed and pounded away in your chest.
“Hey…” You protested weakly.
Yugyeom’s hand retreated. He placed it on the table, right next to your smaller ones. The distance between your hands taunted him; tempted him to close the gap and intertwine your fingers with his. Honestly, Yugyeom wasn’t used to this; wasn’t used to feeling like his insides were going to explode. His mouth opened and closed several times as he pondered his next move, wondering whether it would overstep your boundaries.
But then you stared at him in anticipation with your beautiful brown orbs, innocent and confused, as your lips wrapped around the straw of your matcha latte. Your gaze asked him an unspoken question, urging him on.
Yugyeom dragged your chair closer his, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from you. He rested both of his palms on top of your knees, gaining your full attention. “I like…” Yugyeom paused, catching his bottom lip between his pearly whites as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I like this time with you.”
The soft giggle was purely involuntary, you swore to him afterwards. Yet, as you watched his expression flicker into one of panic, you were quick to cast out his worries. “No, no! Don’t get me wrong. Did you mean, you like spending time with me?”
“Ah, I was trying to be romantic. Stupid English…” Yugyeom cursed under his breath in Korean, unaware that you were familiar with the word ‘romantic’ due to the hours you spent (wasted) binging Korean dramas. “Yes, I do.” He said while squeezing your kneecaps in affirmation.
You had to remind yourself time and time again to keep calm in the presence of this charming man and his magical hands. “Me too, Yugyeom. You’re my favourite time of the day.”
Needless to say, your afternoon ritual continued for weeks and months to come.
#got7creators#kwritersworldnet#yugyeom fluff#yugyeom fanfic#yugyeom imagines#yugyeom scenarios#yugyeom timestamps#got7 fluff#got7 fanfic#got7 imagines#got7 scenarios#got7 timestamps#yugyeom soft#got7 soft#kpop fluff#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#got7#yugyeom#aomg#kim yugyeom#got7 kim yugyeom
76 notes
·
View notes
Note
Since you wrote about Yandere Villians with Y/N having a cute fairy quirk, how about a Yandere Hero having a Y/N with a monstrous quirk? SO...you pick the hero! Pick any male hero who you believe can handle Y/N. You do such amazing writing.
Y/N have to wear a face mask to hide the muzzle she wears going outside. Y/N have a quirk where she goes on a frenzy. Her eyes turn red, her veins pop out of her skin, she starts growling and trying to bite anyone near by. A monster who craves to rip flesh and bones. Y/N can turn on her quirk if she feels so much anger or fear. Y/N doesn't want to hurt anyone. She wants to live a quiet and alone life.
Wolf
Pairing: Best Jeanist x f!reader
Warnings: light yandere content, power abuse, threats
Thank you so much for the compliment, dear anon! I went soft with the monster idea that I just made the reader into a werewolf...hope it is still good! I was torn between Kiri and Best Jeanist! I really like Best Jeanist, I wish he got some more screen time ... Maybe I’ll do another one for the shark boy later.
Some groundwork:
When your quirk manifested at four years old, you were not surprised: you come from a family of Mutant quirks, after all.
Your quirk, wolf, means you can transform into a wolf anytime. The longevity is unknown to you since you barely use it. Even in your normal human form, you still have wolf ears and tail. You also have a sensitive nose, just like canines. You (hair color) fluffy fur is the same color as your hair. In acient times, before quirks become a thing, you would be seen as a werewolf.
While transformed, it is hard to supress the wolf’s wild instincts, the desire to hunt, to kill and consume raw meat (extremely difficult if you are hungry). You hate it, being like a beast instead of human. You had outbursts in the past that nearly killed one of your friends. There fore you stay in human at all times.
So most of the time, you just kept a muzzle near you, just in case you would lose yourself to the beast again.
You always feel this...strange sense of difference between you and normal people, so all of your friends have mutant quirks. You kept your social circle small, only letting those who are deemed trustworthy close to you (you told them to run if they see any signs of you getting wild)
You always had a soft spot for animals, therefore you decided to work in a pet shop. Dogs especially loves you, maybe because your canine quirk. Cats not so much, as they had left quite a few marks on you when you just started.
Now you are the assistant manager, the salary is decent, so you do not look for anything more. You never thought of having a romantic relationship because you do not trust yourself: you do not want to hurt the person you love. So even if you had crushes you just kept those feelings hidden until they went away.
Best Jeanist/Tsunagu Hakamada
Did you know his favorite animal is wolf? Therefore he is a furry
Being the No.4 pro hero means taking on lots of stress, so Tsunagu decides to have an animal friend at home who he can talk to freely, without worrying leaking information (I mean how can animals pass on information).
He went into the nearest pet shop, hoping to find a furry companion, preferably dogs.
What he did not expect is to find you there, with those literal puppy eyes and fluffy ears sticking out of your hair, tending to the puppies.
Tsunagu met people with similar quirks before, and he finds them aesthetically pleasing. But seeing you with a litter of adorable puppies, laughing and petting them? He felt like his heart just melted.
“Hello sir. How may I help you today?” You put on your usual smile. Tsunagu is wearing his civilian clothes, so he is just another customer to you. A fashionable one, though. You took notice at his stylish blonde hair.
Tsunagu would ask you about all the options for adopting a puppy. However he is only half-listening: he is drawn to how your ears twitch towards any abnormal sounds...
“Oh, my ears? Sorry if they are distracting. It’s part of my quirk.”
Would get you to talk to him as much as possible, with lots of polite questions.
When you bid him good day as he walks out the door, holding a poodle puppy with its supplies, Tsunagu is determined to see you more.
You are warm, like a ray of sunlight in this stormy world. Having worked as a pro hero for so long, dealing with many negative things so often, make him attracted to positive people. Those furry wolf ears and tail only added to his admiration.
Whenever Best Jeanist is not needed at his agency, Tsunagu Hakamada would find excuses to drop by your shop. Whether it be buying new accessories for his puppy or simply need some advice on her, he would find a way to talk to you, to hear your voice.
Until he become acquainted with you enough, Tsunagu finally asked for you name.
“I’m (y/n), and you, sir?” “Tsunagu. Tusnagu Hakamada.”
Never have once you associated your friendly customer with the No.4 Pro hero of Japan. Tsunagu is charismatic and talkative (at least to you), never putting on airs like Endeavor. Since he wears a mask, the public does not have a good idea what he looks like.
Then you noticed those small gestures, how Tsunagu’s hands would “unintentionally” brush against yours when you hand over his paid items, how his body would lean in slightly towards you whenever you are talking. Or how his lips would curl upwards whenever your tails wags with excitement. You also seen him way more frequently compare to average customers.
“He got a crush on you.” One of you co workers, teases after Tsunagu left the store.
“No he doesn’t.” You blush, although considering her hypothesis.
You seen some of his clothes in fashion magazines, one of them costs more then your monthly salary. Tsunagu is clearly a rich man, a fashion designer perhaps.
“Ms.(y/n), sorry if this sounds intrusive, but do you have a lover?”
That was...unexpected. “No, I do not. Why did you ask, Mr. Hakamata?”
That saves him trouble. Best Jeanist has got this flawless reputation for years, he prefers not to taint it. But if he must, Tsunagu would not hesitate. You belong with him, and him only. “Well, it’s possible such a beautiful lady like you already has a significant other.”
“Mr. Hakamata...I-” You were not sure to blush or to smile. Now it is clear to you: This blonde is interested in you. However you do not know what to respond.
“Call me Tsunagu, please.”
The next day you would find a lily bouquet wrapped in denim on the store counter?! Who use that as a bouquet wrapper? Flatter as you are, you still find this unsettling. He did not show up for the rest of the day, which gives you time to think.
Tsunagu is handsome and kind. He seems like a perfect choice, but you wonder what he would say if he saw you as a bloodthirsty wolf, feral and hungry for killing.
You decide to turn him down, not wanting to give him false hope.
Some minor villain is causing trouble in the streets when you were walking home. You were just going to sprint away at first, but in the corner of your eye you saw a mother with her toddler daughter being corner by the villain. The way the mother tries to protect her child triggered something in you. You have to do something!
“Grr!!!” Suddenly a piece of flesh is ripped off the villain’s leg. The villain screams in pain, but you dodged every last one of his attacks while leaving deep bite marks on him. Soon the sidewalk is stained crimson with blood. You know the two had already gotten away, you should stop now. But the wolf instincts got the better of you. You crave blood, lots of it. The growing pool under you is not enough.
You heard police sirens, someone yelling for you to stop, but the wolf is not willing to. It seems it would not be satiated unless this villain dies a brutal death.
Streams of fibers wrapped around you, restraining you until you cannot move anymore.
When you regained consciousness, you were in a clean jail cell, still in your wolf form. You assumed that you are being confined in a hero agency since you just lost control.
The door cracked. It is Tsunagu! What is he doing here? And why is he wearing a jean mask?
Then you saw the rest of his outfit. Demin jeans suit from head to toe, the...the No.4?
He is Best Jeanist? What is happening now?
Tsunagu wanted to take things slow, he wanted to date you normally, letting you know everything about him, but this seems like too good of an oppertunity to pass up.
“(y/n), can you understand me?” He crouches down with a concerned look on his face.
You nod. You are not able to speak human languages while in wolf form, another draw back.
“Do your clothes come back when you transform? Or do you need some clothes?”
You left your clothes behind a dumpster before, so you just shook your head. If you were to transform now, it could be quite embarrassing.
Handing you a denim dress, Best Jeanist leaves to give you some privacy to change.
After you are dressed and back in human form, he took you to his office.
“I know you must have lots of question right now, but please allow me to explain somethings first.”
“The villain is in bad shape. You did quite a bit damage on him. His blood loss is immense; he is still in the ICU as we speak.”
Why don’t you just let him die, he’s a threat to society anyway. You ask yourself, silently.
“However, while he is a villain, you still hurt him too much. And it’s not even self-defence. You are not a hero, it’s illegal.”
You tense up. Would you face charges for this? For trying to protect other people.
“Would I go to Tartarus? For how long?”
“Oh, come now. As long as I have any say , I won’t allow that to happen.” Your eyes lit up, wanting to thank him.
“You can be my wife instead. Stay with me, and no charges would be pressed.”
What?
You know he likes you, but just asking to become his wife like that? Without dating first.
“Tsunagu, I... you...this...” He finds your stutters cute, as he traces his fingers along the edge of your wolf ears. Best Jeanist had been wanting to do that for so long, he worked so hard to restrain himself.
“Your choice. Either face court charges, or you can be with me, all is well.”
Tsunagu Hakamada is confident about his chances. An innocent, adorable civilian like you will not last long even in the most outer cells of Tartarus.
Tears slides down your chin as you give a reclutant reply. “I’ll...be with you.”
Who could have thought Tsunagu would do such a thing? He is always so nice and friendly. But now here he is, threatening you with this crime?
“Perfect.” Snapping a denim collar around your neck, he lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him. “I can’t wait to get you home; you would be such a lovely little wolf. My little wolf.”
“Should you ever try to leave me, I’m sure Tartarus is always avaliable.”
109 notes
·
View notes
Text
Beyond Words (4/?)
The Big Sweep
Eight years have come and gone, and it seems that everyone has moved on; Hannah has a new life with a Baby upstate, and even Ray found a bit of happiness in his life, but where does that leave Adam? Still in the same apartment with the same problems. Now, feeling adrift in the stagnation he finds himself in, Adam will try to break old habits and see if he can grow-up. Something easier said than done, that is until he meets you.
This is a bit of a post series/retcon picking up from where Adam’s story left off in Season 6 episode 8 titled “What will we do this time about Adam?”
Adam Sackler x Reader
4.5K Words
Warning: Angst, break up, Depression, cursing.
It’s been a week of secret apartment hunting and script reading for any new possible project, but his efforts finally bear fruit. ‘Fucking Ray. Thank god he came through’ Adam thought as he was one the line of his favorite deli just a few blocks away from his apartment. He shifts anxiously as he rehearses in his mind what he wants to say to Jessa when the moment comes.
It’s been a week of secret apartment hunting and script reading for any new possible project, but his efforts finally bear fruit. ‘Fucking Ray. Thank god he came through’ Adam thought as he was one the line of his favorite deli just a few blocks away from his apartment. He shifts anxiously as he rehearses in his mind what he wants to say to Jessa when the moment comes.
‘Jesus. Fuck’ He fixes his hair fidgeting (well dreading, really) the confrontation to come. Her clinginess hasn’t stopped in the least, wanting to go out together, stay in together, have sex in their old haunts; she’s even been texting him more frequently. It’s not that he didn’t like the attention (or the sex), but Jessa’s always been aloof, and independent. If anything, Adam is the clingy one; things used to be so easy before but this change in dynamic was a bit jarring to him, to say the least.
‘She’s just making things harder’
He was a thousand miles away when he finally sat down, and in true Adam fashion, he doesn’t eat, so much as he scarfs down his meal; six eggs (four of them just the whites), and two slices of turkey bacon. It’s while drinking what’s left of his coffee that his phone alerts him of a new incoming text. Fishing it out of his pocket and saw that he had three texts; two from Luke, letting him know that he got the callback for the Jim Anderson play with the details of where it’s going to be, the other asking if he had finished reading another script that he’d sent him.
‘Yesssssss!!’ He cheered on the inside, holding in his urge to scream it out loud. Finally! At least some things were looking up.
The other text was from Jessa, making fun about one of her classmates, with a rather mean spirited snarky remark.
He scoffs a bit after reading it, her smarmy wit coming through her words. It's moments like these that remind him of their friendship, and their shared chemistry. The thought only served to churn his stomach, bringing to the forefront of his mind what he’ll tell her.
‘ “Look Jessa, I’ve been doing some introspection lately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re better as friends and that I need some time apart” Too formal? No….Shit! “Jessa let’s be real, you would’ve left me in a few months anyway, so I’m doing us both a favor” ..’
“Motherfuck!” He hissed under his breath.
He looked at the time in his phone and got up. He has to get going, not wanting to be late to meet his building manager.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The building itself wasn’t too far, it was still in Brooklyn, not like he could afford anything more upscale, and even then, rents in the boroughs were outrageous; gentrification saw to that. But for all the artisanal ice cream boutiques and organic green tea, there’s a charm in Brooklyn that has captured his heart; for now, this was home. This place has seen his loves and loses and has seen him at his worst and at his best.
Adam walks up to the front steps where a woman is sitting on the stoop, seemingly waiting; looking at her phone as she does so. She looks up and sees him in the eye, causing him to look away awkwardly to avoid her thinking he was a creep or something, but her gaze was more curious than anything.
She tilts her head sideways to get a better look at him. “Adam?”
‘Do I know her? Oh fuck, have I fucked her?’ he thinks, his mid going through the roster of girls to see if he knew her from somewhere. “Yeah?” he asked cautiously after his mind came up blank. He doesn’t know her....at least he thinks he doesn’t know her.
“I’m Jaime. I’m the building manager? My dad probably told you about me when he showed you the apartment.” She explains, hopefully jogging his memory, as she gets up to face him.
“You’re Jaime?” He asks, taking a good look at her. Her hair is long and dark up, reaching up to her waist; her body, clothed in oversized jeans and a black tank top, is skinny but not too skinny as to make her look malnourished, her complexion is dark, coupled with deep brown eyes, a wide nose full glossy lips and a beauty mark above her left eyebrow.
“Yeah, were you expecting anyone else?” she smirked haughtily at him, making him to quickly reply out an answer to avoid any embarrassment.
“No! I just thought that I’d be meeting your dad.” he corrects himself and holds out his hand to shake her hand in greeting. She responded in kind, extending her hand to shake his. Her hand was adorned by wide silver rings in her fingers, her nails were decorated with an orange nail polish that was mostly chipped away.
“He got held up, asked me to do it. Legally I can, as the building manager. So, you ready to sign?”
“Uh, Yeah.” he answers her as she gestures for him to follow her, leading him up the stairs to what will be his new apartment.
Climbing three flights of stairs, standing in front of a door marked ‘3A’, Jaime places the key in the lock and opens the door before gesturing for him to go in.
The apartment itself was big, or big for New York standards, at least, It was a one bedroom apartment, complete with a separate living room, the bathroom was down the hallway, and with a small kitchen right next to what could be converted to a small dining room. It suited him. The apartment was eerily reminiscent of the one he lives in now, the most remarkable difference is that the kitchen has a separate countertop for a bar, not to mention that the living room was roomier, with a tall window providing the space with a good amount of natural light.
It was thankfully in his budget, and that’s what mattered to him the most, nevermind the fact that he basically found an affordable apartment with this much space; which to be clear, is nothing short of impossible.
The pair start to walk into the empty living room space. “You’re lucky you were able to snag this place. We haven’t gotten the word out yet, or anything about this place. So you got the exclusive first look.” Jaimie mentions as she walks to the kitchen counter, grabbing the papers and the pen.
Not knowing how to respond to her and him having his own special brand of social skills , Adam just answers with a simple “Yeah.”
“If anything you’re lucky you know Ray, being on the city council makes you meet a lot of people in the community; and stick-in-the-mud Ray knows a lot of people.” She smiles at him.
“Yeah well we’ve been friends for a while, now.” He replies to her with a polite smile back.
“Yeah. Anyway, this is the contract.” Jaime changes the direction of the conversation to the issue at hand, sliding the contract file in his direction with a pen in her hand.
“Sign here, and here….I need initials here.” She directed him as he started to sign the papers, trying to keep up with her quick directions.
Once it was finished, she handed him a stack of papers. “Okay, so this is your copy of the lease, and these are your keys. Heads up.” She dangled the keys before throwing them in his direction for him to catch, moving towards the exit to leave to the privacy of his new place. Stopping at the door, Jaimie looks back to face him as he turns around to face her.
“So you already know my name. Rent’s due on the first. If you need anything, my apartment’s on the first floor; apartment ‘1B’. If you need me but I’m not in, just slip a note under my door. ‘Kay? Any questions?”
“Uh, nope.”
“Then it’s a pleasure to meet you Adam Sackler. Welcome to the building.” With that she gave him a small smirk and waved goodbye, shutting the door behind her on her way out; leaving him alone with his thoughts in his new apartment.
It’s official now, he can’t put it off anymore. He’s following the advice Ray gave him; hell, even Josh said it. Here, in the emptiness of his new space, in the bright white light of day, he finally sees what he’s been avoiding for so long.
He loved her, he cared for her, but was he ever in love with her?
He was just as quick to get back to her as soon as he realized that things with Hannah wouldn't work out. He quickly left Jessa once he found out that Hannah was pregnant and….’I don’t know.’ ‘Maybe I’m with her ‘cause it’s easy...I’m so fucked up!’ Adam furiously scrubbed his face with both hands, breathing deeply and exhaling through his nostrils.
Alone, in the middle of the empty apartment, bathed in the light from the windows, he knew. It was just like that time; he knew what he had to do.
It was time to rip the band-aid off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later in the day, after doing a few errands he had to do for the new place, Adam was standing outside of his (old?) apartment building. Looking at the window of the apartment, he takes a deep breath, gathering his bravery to face the situation.
He makes the journey up the stairs, and opens the door. The apartment is empty, judging by the hour, Jessa’s probably still in class. Taking advantage of the circumstances, he starts packing up his things; his mind making a list of the things to take with him .
‘My clothes, books. It's a good thing I don’t have a lot of stuff. I can buy food, and I already got a bed taken care of. I’m gonna have to come back for my work out stuff, my weights and the bench at least.’
Little by little Adam starts to take his favorite things, taking his time to consider what to leave behind. A practice he’s by now well-used to.
The front doors opens and in walks Jessa, her hair in a bun, wearing a loose red tee shirt with denim blue high waisted jeans, the bags in her hand suggest she bought something.
“Hey you in?!” Her voice rings through the small apartment, reaching Adam’s ears, causing him to freeze, inwardly flinching in anticipation of what’s to come. ‘Time to face the fucking music. *sigh*’ He moves out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to find her putting things away on the fridge.
“Heeeeeey.”
“I brought some groceries since the fridge was empty.” she told him casually, her head buried inside the refrigerator as she took things from the bag and placed them inside.
“You have a good day?” His stance is awkward, his hands behind his back as he debated on how to best start the conversation; break it to her while hoping to god that she takes it well.
“Not bad, Nancy is a fucking cunt, but that’s just her. Either way…” Jessa approaches him, pulling him for a kiss, smiling as she does so “She’s just irritates me, so...how was your day?” Her hands run through the familiar course of his chest sweetly. A small shrug moved his shoulders nonchalantly as he looked at her. Was this really it? “It was okay, I did a few errands.”
Hearing this her brow furrowed a bit, looking into his eyes as he stared at her. “You did errands, what errands? Didn’t you have an audition?”
“Yeah, look can we talk?” He asks as he nervously fidgets, gesturing for them to sit down on the couch. If there’s something that can be said about Adam is that he’s as subtle as a hammer.
Sitting on the coffee table in front of her, he nervously passes a hand through his hair, trying to find a way to get what he needed to say out. Jessa looked at him curiously, waiting for him to talk but finding herself growing impatient as the seconds passed.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” She urges calmly.
Adam’s forehead wrinkled in concentration, both of his hands pressed against his face as his fingers covered his eyes. “This isn’t something that I wanna have to tell you. I know this isn’t fair to you, especially after the whole thing with Hannah.”
“I’ve been doing some introspection, or whatever, and um...I’ve been going to meetings…”
“You’ve been going to meetings?” She interrupted, concern etched on her her face as her brows lifted before furrowing in thought.
“Yeah.”
“Well. Have you been drinking?”
“No!” He answered urgently. “I just…” Adam’s lips tense into an outstretched line for a brief moment while he finds a way to verbalize his thoughts.
“I’ve been going to meetings and taking time to think….And…” A few seconds pass. “Fuck” he whispered under his breath in a sigh. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that I; that WE..need time apart.” His eyes searched hers for any indication of understanding or sympathy, but they found nothing. Her gaze was blank as she was deep in thought as he spoke. “ Look, this has nothing to do with Hannah. Whatever she and I had. It’s over, it’s finished.” His baritone voice is soft and calm as he tries to sound as serious as possible. In his mind he is an adult trying to have a serious conversation with his partner. Gone is the lovable boyish demeanor he usually carried; replaced with a grim faced man as he leans over to look at her. His elbows rest on his knees and clasps his hands together, giving away his anxiety.
“I never told you how sorry I am for that...and I hurt you. It’s just that, I don’t know if it was filming the movie or if it was just life in fuckin’ general, but I was reminded of what Hannah and I had. I felt it, so I felt that there was too much history there to not try and set things right. To help her, and be there for her.” The sound of his voice reverberated through the small apartment as he looked at the floor. “ But we’re too different now and want different things. And...Now I feel like I need some space to figure shit out alone. Not just for me, because I really do care about you, Jessa.”
Jessa looks at the ground in silence, not wanting to look at him in the eyes and see her worst nightmare.
“I’m gonna be moving out, take the time to focus on my life. You can stay here, keep most of the stuff. I’ll still pay for your classes. I meant what I said.”
Jessa nods slowly, pursing her lips while processing his words.
“Okay...if that’s how you feel.” Her tone is a bit above a whisper, feigning understanding in her short words. She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her legs on the couch with a nonchalant expression. Like everything else, nothing fazes her.
Adam scoffs at her response, unable to believe how she can be so calm while he was essentially breaking up with her. No, he saw what this was. “ Oh, come the fuck on Jessa, this is just like last time. Do you seriously not give a fuck? I know you feel something. Get angry; hit me, throw something at me. For fuck’s sake, it isn’t good to bottle everything in...Just tell me how you feel.”
A deep sigh went through her nose, her eyes showed that something was beneath the surface as she shakes her head slightly and looks at him. “What do you want me to say? You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re communicating; and if this is how you feel, then there’s no point in fighting against it.”
‘Un-fucking-believable.’ Adam moves his left hand towards his cheek, lightly scratching at the hairs in his stubble. “That doesn’t mean that you’re not feeling anything; that your feelings aren’t valid.” He lets out a breath of frustration as he realizes that she put up her walls to him and she won’t budge. ‘The hitting and screaming would’ve been better.’ “Fine.”
Keeping with her attitude, Jessa clicks her tongue and leans back lazily before asking the dreaded question. “So when do you move out.”
“I was thinking about leaving today.”
“Oh...so you have a place to stay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. My stuff’s mostly packed, and I’ll come back for the rest later...But I wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“Adam, stop worrying! You’ve done nothing wrong. If you feel you have to do this; you gotta do what you gotta do.” A sardonic smile graces her face. She makes everything sound so simple; black and white.
He gently grabs her tattooed wrist in his large hand and looks deeply into her green eyes, trying to find a way to get through to her, to really talk to her.
“Hey..I still care about you. okay?” He told her gently, almost as if she were a child.
“Yeah.” Her response was short and curt.
Her walls remain up; impenetrable in their might as she refuses to show him, to show the world an ounce of vulnerability. A defense mechanism that took years in perfecting. An aloof facade she shows the world.
Jessa moves to get up, leaving him alone. Adam’s well aware that this was just a front, Jessa hasn’t changed,. He couldn’t tell how bad it was, but he’s doing this for her too. He knew it’d be worse if he stayed.
No other words were said as she sat crossed legged in their bed, smoking a cigarette while he finished packing. In the back of her mind she wonders if this is what being in a relationship is really like; being off and on, having that person come in and out of your life….It’s what her father did. ‘No’ She knows that’s not true. She’s seen people get married, have families and be happy. And besides, Adam’s not remotely like her father, he’s not like the previous men in her life. He’s different.
She moves to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass or orange juice, pretending that nothing is wrong, desperately trying to ignore his presence. She found it unbearable to watch as he left her for a second time. This time she’s more aware of her feelings for him, and she dreads what will become of them, of her while watching Adam go in and out of the apartment; getting his things downstairs.
He tried to be as quick as possible; throwing this mindlessly into garbage bags, making sure he took only what was important to him.
The hardest part about breaking up is trying to leave and stay on good terms. And he’s attempting to do just that. He figured that if he could do it with Hannah, maybe it was possible with Jessa.
Adam reached into his pocket and fished out his keys, he placed them on the counter beside the sink.
“You take care of yourself, okay?” He said awkwardly, looking at her one last time. His mouth is etched in a pout and his eyes are sullen at her lack of reply, but he still waits a few seconds for her, almost as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t even look at him as he made his way out of the apartment.
Closing the door behind him, Adam takes a moment to just stand there, his mouth still set in a pout, his brows furrowed as he feels the weight of what’s happened.
Both lovers stand on either side of the closed door, each hoping that the other would take a step forward to open the door; to go back to the other, but neither one does. Adam stays there, feeling the guilt over what he’s done slowly spread; lamenting not just the loss of his lover, but the loss of his best friend.
‘It had to be done. There’s no point in staying anymore.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside of the apartment, Jessa just stood there, staring at the door; willing him to come back to her. Her face morphs from boredom to one of pure heartbreak. Her eyes start to water as her breathing changes to an erratic pace.
In the cold emptiness surrounding her, she couldn’t pretend anymore. Her mask vanishes, revealing the abandoned girl underneath, watching as her friend walked out of their home and her life.
This time she can’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt; can’t deny the devastation she feels as her world blurs. She places the palm of her hands over her eyes as the tears overflow.
‘He’s done this before, and he came back; he’ll do it again.’ She reasons in her desperation, clinging to the idea that Adam will be back, that this is just a pattern. Because the alternative would be to accept that he left her for good.
‘Fucking Hannah!’ As she cries her thoughts become more chaotic. ‘Don’t go. Don’t do this to me.’ Her inner voice cries as she slides slowly towards the floor, bringing her knees towards her chest.
‘This is just how he is.’ She reasoned, still expecting him to come back, her mind repeating his last words over and over. He did say he cared about her, he still loved her; but as she continued to reason his return, a small part of her feared she was just clinging to an empty promise, that she was stupidly holding on to hope...and that he really did leave her.
The silence inside the apartment is maddening, the space is cold; isolated from the world filled only with her small cries.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He should be used to moving, considering how often he did in the past eight years, but no, it was always a bitch. And the worst part about it? Doing it because of a break up. To say that it was awkward was an understatement, but he needed to end things well off with Jessa. God knows he’s ran into people from his past before enough times to know better. New York may be populated by millions of people, but it can turn into a very small place, when Karma feels like it. It’d be worse if he didn’t do it this way, he’s sure of it.
After getting the last of his things upstairs, he starts unpacking bit by bit. He doesn’t have a refrigerator yet, or a bed for that matter; those come in tomorrow, but Adam has been through worse, and one day without furniture hardly phases him. That being said sleeping on the floor isn’t something he’s looking forward to. Plus, this is what friends are for isn’t it? ...to crash on their couch when needed?
Adam takes his phone out, scrolling through the few contacts saved in it. He could ask Ray; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d stay at his place, especially after a breakup. He could also ask Josh, he had offered his couch to let him crash before; maybe the offer’s still on the table.
‘Screw it.’
He hits on Josh’s contact and places the device next to his ear, waiting for a response on the other side of the line.
“Hey.” Josh’s deep voice sounds through the phone’s speaker.
“ Heeeey...listen, I got a favor to ask, if it’s not too much trouble, or whatever.” Adam started nervously, scratching his head as he talked.
“Yeah, man. Shoot.”
“I broke up with Jessa.” He blurted out. “I moved out.”
There was a slight silence on the line before Josh responded. “Well, shit. Do you need a place to stay? Until you find something?”
“I already got a place. I just need a place to crash until I can get the bed and fridge brought in here.”
“ Well you’re in luck, then. I’m actually on my way back from work. I gotta stop to pick up a few things and then I’m headed home.” Josh explained in his easy-going tone; like nothing bothers him at the moment. “ I’ll let Vanessa know; she’s coming over tonight.”
Adam hesitated “ I don’t wanna shit on your plans.”
“ Oh, fuck off. You’re not. Dude, trust me, Ness loves you. She’d be pissed if I didn’t help out. My sofa es su casa.”
Even though Josh can’t see him, Adam smiles at his friend’s words; his teeth peeking out from his lips and the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he does so. “ Yeah, okay. Just let me know when you’re at home. Text me or whatever.”
“You got it. Tonight we’re eating homemade Mexican food.”
“Yeah, Thanks.”
“Alright, see ya.”
With that, Adam hung up, comforted in the knowledge that he’ll be able to sleep in a comfortable, and most importantly cushioned, tonight. At least now he had a place to call his, and by pure stroke of luck, the apartment’s rent wasn’t as high as it could be. He’ll furnish it, little by little. He lives in New York, so someone’s bound to not want a couch somewhere. That leaves the matter of his kitchen. He’d have to buy glasses, plates and food, to at least have the very basics.
‘A bookshelf in the living room. I’ll put my bench in the bedroom...clothes go in the closet, I gotta get a chest or something with drawers..’
He turns to pick up the trash bags storing his clothes, taking them through the small hallway towards his bedroom closet. He’d have to do laundry before the end of the week, he reminded himself as he realized that he was in such a rush to pack everything that he didn’t think that some of his shirts in the bag used to be strewn across the floor of the apartment and stank of sweat.
He spent the next few hours doing what he can, organizing his clothes between what’s clean and what was to be laundered, he took his time to make sure everything was arranged to his liking; a far cry from how he was living 8 years ago. Back when he was an aimless mess living in an apartment cluttered with tools and random pieces of reclaimed wood; when he would rather fuck around with no strings attached than be emotionally vulnerable with someone.
To Adam, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Gone was the aloof fuckboy with an awkward haircut and no direction. Now in his place stands a more empathetic and responsible man.
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard his phone come to life, sounding an alert to let him know he had just received a text and prompting him to look for it. Reaching for his back pocket, he fishes out his phone to see a message from Josh came in saying ‘Just got in.’ on the lit up screen. He’d finish unpacking later; now he was hungry, and Mexican seemed like just the thing…
——————————————————
Hey guys, I’m baaaaack!!!! :D
2020 has been a hell of a year, but I still wanted to end it on a good note. So here we have a short but sweet chapter where Adam wants to leave Jessa to focus on himself, but he knows how fragile and lonely she can be and tries to do it gently....Does it work? We'll have to find out. Safe to say, Jessa will be a reoccurring guest star on this show, so we’ll see how Adam handles this and how he manages to move on. So, leave a comment and let me know what y’all think.
Mucho Love and and a happy New year!!😊
Xoxo Selene R
Tag list for some friends (let me know if you’d like to be added)
@kowalskibro-adamdriverblog @tsarinastorm @alexdaleks @thrivingamidstchaos @klauscarolove @misskitred @ah-callie @sarcasticbitch @jynz-andtonic @oh-adam @commanderbensolo @kylos-wren @adamsnackler @patersonn-kylo @adamsnacc-kler @ellelaconiwrites @that-only-exists-in-my-mind @ktellmeastory @fallinallinmendes @noocturnalchild
#Beyond Words#adam sackler#girls hbo#adam sackler fanfiction#adam sackler x reader#adam sackler/reader#adam sackler/you#adam sackler x you#reader insert#adam/jessa#adam/reader#adam driver#readerchan#fem reader#fix it fic#fix it#girls fanfiction#retcon#post series
39 notes
·
View notes
Note
Waited for anon 😎 May I request... literally anything for Marshal? I love the little guy 😫
Yandere Marshal X Reader
I really enjoyed writing this! Probably because I have Marshal and know him better than the other villagers I’ve written for. This one is much lighter than the last one. Also i made Marshal and Raymond best buds (because this is my blog and y’all can’t stop me)
Marshal thought of himself as out of the ordinary. His beautiful singing voice, his stunning looks, his amazing personality. Yup, as far as he was concerned, he was the ultimate package. Never had he really met a person who he thought was as amazing as him, sure there had been people who were close. But never quite there. One of those people was the grey cat whom he was currently drinking tea with.
“So, hows the house hunting going crisp?” Raymond had asked his shorter friend. Marshal was currently moving out of his previous village and was looking for a new home. “No, no I haven’t. It’s tough, but I can’t seem to find a lot of open villages as of late” He said, lifting up his teacup and gently placing it on his lips. “Oh? Haven’t you heard? Everyone’s moved onto islands now. All part of the Nook inc. getaway package” Raymond gave him a smile as he placed a hand onto the squirrels shoulder. This made Marshal perk up. “Huh? Island getaway? I heard old Nook was gonna start something new but I didn’t think he would do something like this...” This made the office cat laugh. “Well, it’s actually quite nice Crisp” now this, this really shocked Marshal. “Wait really? You? Living on an island?” Marshal asked in a tone that he hadn’t quite meant. “Pff, what’s so strange about that Marshy? I’m not THAT high maintenance you know”. Hmm, so Raymond was living on an island now. ”How come I’ve never heard of this move of yours?” Marshal looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. “You never asked” He simply stated as he took yet another sip of tea. “Well I’m asking now aren’t i? So tell me all about it?” The blonde critter had asked, moving in closer to his feline friend. Raymond let out a snort at Marshals eagerness. But nevertheless, he delivered.
And so, he told him about his island life, about the different residents, about the island activities, about the sunny days and about the rainy days, about the different friends he’d made, basically, he told Marshal about pretty much everything.
“And on Saturdays the one and only K.K. Slider visit us to have a small concert” By now, both of them had drunken up their tea. “What?! No way!” Marshal had said enthusiastically. Raymond let out a chuckle as he reassured him. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you about our island representative! Their name is Y/N, they are such a doll, honestly. One time I left my stuff at another residents place and the next day they delivered it to me. Their such a dear, I think you two would get along just swimmingly” he said as he clasped his hands together. “Hmm? How come?” Marshal asked, looking up at Raymond puzzled. “Well, you both like fashion, and it shows, that’s for sure. You both are quite the small charmers, uhhh- oh! You both have good singing voices” This made Marshal very interested. “Oh really? I’ll have to visit sometime” Suddenly, Raymond’s eyes lit up, as if he got an idea. “I know! Why don’t you move to the island?” He said proudly, grabbing a hold of Marshals shoulders. “What?” Marshal stated in confusion, he couldn’t just...move to an island, could he? “Think about it Marsh! If you moved to the island, I wouldn’t have to take such long trips just to see you in person! And I could introduce you to Y/N and we could become the best trio!” By now, Raymond was rambling. But Marshal was thinking about it. It would be nice with a hand of scenery, plus being able to live next to his best friend was always good. And hey, who knows? Maybe he could come closer to this Y/N person. They did certainly sound interesting.
A couple of days later, Isabelle was happy to announce that a new friend was moving onto the island. And that new friend was Marshal. The first to greet him as he stepped off the plane was of course Raymond, who helped him unpack and get ready as friends do. But soon enough as Raymond was showing Marshal around the island they had heard footsteps coming closer to them. Without warning, Raymond was tackled into a hug. “Raymond! I missed you!” Shouted the person clinging onto him. Both of them laughed as the other let go of him.
“Oh! Y/N! There’s someone I want you to meet” The cat said as he gestured to the smaller animal. Y/N smiled as they held out their hand with a playful smile on their lips. “Greetings! The names Y/N” Marshal took a hold of their hand and shook it, giving them a gentle smile. “Marshal” he simply stated. “So, you’re the new resident? It’s good to have you on the island!” Y/N said as they looked over at Raymond. “So, Raymond. I wanted to ask you if I could boro-“ by now all that they were saying had become an absolute blur in Marshals mind. Y/N...they...they were perfect. Never in his life had he seen someone quite like them. They were so elegant, yet, they looked so laid back. Their eyes shined like two sparkly diamonds. Their hair, it looked so soft, he just wanted to touch it, to feel how soft it would be. He wanted to feel their skin brace against his fur. He didn’t know what was up with him, but he wanted to feel more of this feeling.
“Marshal? Hello? Earth to Marshal? This is Raymond speaking” Marshals thoughts were interrupted by a grey paw waiving in front of his face, taking him back into reality. “O-Oh! Umm sorry, I uh got lost in my own little world there...” Y/N let out a laugh at this, making Marshals cheeks get ever redder than usual. Once Raymond noticed this he got a wide smirk started growing on his lips. “Oh! I just remembered! I really gotta go do something...important! Y/N, since your here could you show Marshal across the island?” Raymond said, scratching the back of his neck while giving a nervous smile. Marshal looked at him and glared slightly, that bastard! “Yeah sure! Id be happy to” Y/N said, turning to Marshal and giving him a reassuring smile. “Okay, thanks! Gotta go!” And so, Raymond dashed off, leaving Marshal alone with Y/N. “So, uh...shall we go?”
And so, Y/N showed Marshal around the island. They showed him the different stores, the plaza, the beaches, they even showed him all the residents houses. “Aaaaand over here we have my house! In all it’s glory!” They said and pointed towards their house. It was beautiful. And fully upgraded to. Marshal was in complete and utter awe. “It looks very nice Sulky” He said, seeing the smile form on their lips made him feel proud. “Thanks, actually most of the island constitutions are made by me!” Y/N said, this was Marshals opportunity. “Oh really? That explains why they look so good” as he said this, he flashed a toothy grin. This caught Y/N off guard and Marshal could see the small tint of pink brush their cheeks. “Heh, thanks”
After the island tour, Y/N and Marshal decided to hang out for a while. They talked about a lot of things, but mainly it was Marshal talking about himself. At one point, he had brought up his amazing singing voice. To which Y/N responded with interest. “Oh really? What’s your favorite song?” They had asked, tilting their head. “K.K. Swing, it’s so good. And you?” He had returned the question, keeping his voice and posture calm. But on the inside, he was shaking in anticipation. What was your favorite song? “Well, I guess it’s kinda cliche but I really like Bubblegum K.K., but I also love a lot of his other songs as well” Y/N answered, giving him a sheepish smile. Oh. My. God. Not only were you incredibly good looking, but you had great taste in music!
“Hey I have an idea! Why don’t you sing a little? Raymond told me you had a great singing voice so I’d love to hear it” He said. Please except, please except, pleASE EXCEPT-
“Ooo, id love to. But I’m kinda hoarse at the moment. But hey, once I’m feeling better, you’ll be the first person I’m gonna go to alright?” As Y/N said this, Marshal could feel his claws digging into his arm, his eye twitch slightly. Damn it! He screwed up! But before he could think of anything else he felt you grab a hold of his arms. “Hey, it’s getting a bit late and I’m gonna go home now, but let’s see each other later alright? Bye Marshal!” Y/N said as they ran off. Well, better luck next time. They’ll see, in a short time. He’d have them. He’s sure of it.
“You seem to really like them huh amigo?” A certain office cat told Marshal. By now it had been a couple of weeks since the move. Marshal had told Raymond about his feelings for Y/N. And now they were talking about it. “What can I say Ray, their just so amazing, everything about them makes me wanna scream at the top of my lungs!” Marshals tail started to wiggle slightly as the thought of you entered his mind. “I see, well i hate to break it to ya Marshy but your not the only one who seems to want that human” Raymond said, going into Marshals kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Marshals eyes went wide as he heard this, did...did Raymond? “Calm down, it’s not me. I’ve seen the way you look at her, I would never try to break that up. It’s really quite adorable to be frank. No, the person that seems to have the hots for our fellow island rep isn’t even someone that lives on the island” huh? What was this? Who would it be if it wasn’t a resident. “The name of the person is Jolly Redd. He’s been coming too our beach and has been selling fake art. But the thing is, for whatever reason he always give Y/N the real art, for free nonetheless. It was very strange until I realized that he was probably in love with them. But what do I know, it’s just a guess. But it might be worth considering since I heard he’s coming to the island tomorrow” Raymond picked up his coffee cup and sat down beside Marshal, handing him a second cup. “Hmm, weird tell me more” He had said intrigued yet also angered. How dare someone try to steal his Y/N away from him. Hearing this, Raymond furrowed his eyebrows slightly and gave an unsure look around. “Well...oh but i really shouldn’t tell you this...but here’s the thing-“
The next morning you were walking around the island, greeting different people when all of a sudden Marshal came running up to you. You assumed that he wanted to teach you a new reaction but to your dismay you saw that he had a look of worry on his face. “Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you about! A-and it’s pretty urgent” Marshal has said, grabbing a hold of your hand. “Oh? Can it wait just a second Marshal? I have to go visit Redd down by the-“ “NO!” You were quickly silenced by Marshals sudden outburst, an outburst even he seemed surprised of. “I mean...this is about...Redd...” now this, this made you stop dead in your tracks. “Huh? What about him?” You asked, wondering what this was about. What about Redd made this so urgent. “Well, do you know why Nook hated Redd so bad?” He had said, this made a bunch of bricks form in your stomach. You did know that Tom hated Redd but he never wanted to tell you why, to you, Redd had always seemed so nice. So you didn’t understand what the big deal was. “They used to be businesspartners. Not only that but they were also friends. Good friends. However, Redd would later show Tom what their friendship meant” Ge said in a sad yet serious tone. “What do you mean by that?” You said, feeling a knot in your throat. “Well, Redd scammed Tom out of all his bells and abandoned him” As he said this you felt a gasp leave your mouth. You thought you knew Redd. although you had to be honest with yourself, this didn’t sound to out of reach for him to do. You a had always been very uncertain about Redd and one thing that would make you upset is how he sold fake art to your fellow islanders. “I...I see. I was gonna visit him but...if he could do such a think to Tom when they were friends...maybe he will try to scam me as well” you said as you started to fidget with your hands. “I was gonna head over to Brewster if you’d like to come with? Maybe that would take Redd off your mind” Marshal offered.
And so the two of you went to Brewster. you were talking, well, it was mostly Marshal talking about himself and you listening but it was still a conversation. “Hey Marshal? I’m glad you told me about Redd. I don’t feel comfortable buying stock from him if he scammed Tom. I can’t support someone who would do that to my friend” You said as you took a sip from your coffee. “Oh, no worries sulky. I’m always happy to help” Marshal said with a happy and satisfied grin.
Little did you know that he was overjoyed at the moment. He had successfully made you break off your relationship with Redd. Now you could be his! He’d have to wait of course. But he is willing to do so. After all, if someone else tried to take you, he could always tell you what a horrible person they were. Yes, that’s how he’d do it. Only he could have you, he was the only one who deserved you. You had awoken something new in him. Because for the first time in his life, he felt like someone was equal to him. Maybe even better than him! Every time he saw you he felt so soft and happy. And he wanted to explore this feeling. He wanted to go on fancy dates with you, he wanted to sing with you, he wanted to hold hands with you, wake up next to you in the morning and the last face he saw before he went to sleep. He wanted to have you. Scratch that. He NEEDED to have you.
You were going to be his.
You had no say in this.
#yandere#yandere acnh#yandere animal crossing#animal crossing#Yandere Marshal#marshal acnh#X reader#tw yandere#tw obsessive behaviour#tw manipulation#raymond acnh#raymond and Marshal are Lipchap buddies :D
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
In This Together
Pic originally posted by jrackles
Pairing- Dean x Wife!Reader
Word count-9825
Summary-The reader hasn’t been feeling well and is afraid to go to a doctor, because of her medical history. One thing seems to lead to another, but she has her husband Dean to lean on. This is AU
Warnings- Sick reader, Little bit of language, A little angst, and maybe a little fluff, slight implied smut. Possible triggers talks of multiple surgeries some are a little descriptive, talk of possible loss of fertility, female problems.
A/N This is my first fic I have finished. I have had some things going on, I needed someone like Dean, this was the closest I could get to having him. It is unbeta’d all mistakes are mine. @winchest09 and @katehuntington you two are absolutely amazing!! Without you two, your virtual lockdowns and the people I met because of them, I never would have had the confidence to finish this let alone post it. Thank you!
You sighed as you rolled over in bed, time to get up and start another day. Although you were hoping today was different. You were hoping the pain you had been having which couldn’t decide whether or not it wanted to be in your side or abdomen would actually be gone. Something that had just been in your head. You had felt a kind of off for the last 2 weeks but had kept that to yourself.
“Morning Sweetheart,” came from your husband of four years, as Dean walked back in your room fresh from the shower. A quick kiss good morning before he finished getting dressed and you headed to get yourself ready in the bathroom. Soon you were both out the door and off to work. Dean was a partner in his father’s mechanic business. It was doing well for him; he’d even added on auto parts store next door. You were running your family’s restaurants, your parents slowly cutting back on their day to day involvement, but not leaving entirely yet because you were going to need their help in the new year.
You enjoyed your mornings at work, for the first few hours it was just you preparing things for the day, your radio playing softly your only companion. It wasn’t long before your daytime employees came in and the lunch rush began you all working as a team everything going smoothly today. It was while working on clean up and the dinner prep, one of your workers, and your friend, Donna found you in a back corner with your hands on your right side. When she asked what was going on, you told her you were fine and went to finish the task you were working on. Before she left Donna passed by your office where she saw you inside with a look of pain on your face again, your ringing phone interrupted her from saying anything to you then.
Dean beat you home from work and was preparing hamburgers to grill when you walked in. You set your things down and met him in the kitchen for a kiss, “Hey Babe, how was your day?”
“Good. The new guy, Gabe, I was telling you about should work out well, might be a little bit of a smart ass. Benny seems to have taken him under his wing to show him the ropes. Those two will be interesting together. How were things at the restaurant today?”
“That’s great! I know with your Dad, and Bobby cutting back their time there you wanted at least one more person in. Work was fine, late lunch and steady afternoon which is why I’m later getting home.”
“How’s the foot doing? You’ve been on it more with working longer hours lately.”
“Okay, as good as it’s going to be for now.”
You two enjoyed a quiet dinner, then curled up on the couch to watch a movie before heading to bed. Dean noticed you didn’t eat much of your dinner, but he figured you were either tired or grabbed a snack at the restaurant.
Your next morning started off about the same both of you on your separate ways to work. It was afternoon when Donna saw you again with a grimace on your face and a hand on your side. A little while later she saw your running to the restroom where you threw up.
“Alright, spill Y/N. What is going on, you’ve been a little off lately?”
“Donna, I’m fine.”
“Bull, lady. Do I need to call Dean and ask him?”
“NO!” Your head went back, and your eyes closed as you thought about what you were going to say. You went with the truth, maybe she would tell you what you were hoping, it was nothing. “I’ve been having a sharp pain in my right side, sometimes it moves to the front and is in my abdomen. Every once in while it might go lower. It’s probably just a sore muscle or maybe the ulcer is coming back”
“And the upset stomach?”
“That’s new-ish. This is nothing, I’m fine. It can’t be anything.” You almost whispered.
“You should probably talk to your Dr. Maybe your OB first, given your history. That’s what your worried about right?”
With tears in your eyes you gave a soft yes.
“Call them, and then talk to Dean. Knowing you, you haven’t said anything to him, and were going to keep pretending nothing was happening.”
You walked away to call for an appointment. Donna was right, you were scared, and you hadn’t told Dean. You didn’t want to go through this again. Around year and half ago you were at a girls day out when you just didn’t feel right. You attributed it to worry you had about something at work. It didn’t go away and over the next two weeks things got worse. You weren’t hungry, you had a sharp pain in your side, had started burping and not been able to stop it. That one bothered you the most. Then you started getting sick. Overall, you just didn’t feel well. You figured it was early February now, you just had a good old-fashioned winter cold. When you suddenly had trouble drawing a deep breath and it hurt to breathe, you had gone to a walk-in-clinic. They thought it was your appendix or gallbladder and sent you to your primary Doctor the next day. They agreed and sent you to a CT Scan the next day. Dean went with that morning and waited while you went back for the test. You were told your doctor would have to results in a few days while they were getting the test started. When they finished the scan, they told you to stay on the table they had a radiologist coming to read the scan right then. That hadn’t done much for your nerves. They told you something about a mass on your ovary and kids still being possible, but you needed to see your OB asap. You had walked back out to Dean in the waiting room in shock, not 100% sure what had happened in the last few minutes. You had ended up having a cyst on an ovary, which had destroyed that ovary and continued to grow into what your doctor called a giant mass. It had gotten so big it was pushing on your other organs. They had to go in and take it out. You were getting to the point you were okay with that part, but the doctor kept talking, and you kept squeezing Dean’s hand harder. They couldn’t see the uterus around the mass and didn’t know if it had damage or the other ovary, and there was a possibility it was cancerous. Suddenly the kids you and Dean had been talking about and picturing, might only ever be that, talk. You had been a wreck the morning of surgery, but Dean was in pre-op with you as long as he could be holding your hand telling you everything was going to be fine. It didn’t matter what happened with the surgery. If it was just the two of you, or if you ended up adopting. You were in this together. He loved you and the two of you would be just fine. The surgery had gone well. They only had to take the mass out and the tests came back cancer free.
Things between you and Dean were good. The last year and half had been crazy, no kids yet, although that wasn’t due to lack of trying in the beginning. The December after your surgery you had ended up with a stomach ulcer and they found a fibroid on your uterus. You really couldn’t catch a break. Your doctor had wanted to put you on birth control to slow down the growth for now. Here you were, once again worried that you wouldn’t be able to give Dean the baby you knew he wanted. His brother Sam, and his wife Jess had had their first child a few months prior and Dean was the loving uncle. Holding little Jake, he could calm him down faster than anyone but Jess. He spent a bit of time telling him all about Baby, and the things he would teach him when he was older. You were fairly certain he might get that boy in trouble with a few things, but that could be dealt with in a few years. You knew Dean was hoping for the day he would be holding his own baby, and teaching them, you were afraid you were never going to be able to give him that.
You were sitting on the couch when Dean came home from work.
“Hey Sweetheart, how was your day?”
“Fine, how were things at the shop?”
“Good, busy. Dinner smells great.”
“Thanks, it’s got about a half hour till it’s done. I know you want to shower, but can I talk to you first?”
“Always.”
Dean joined you on the couch as you started explaining. “So I’ve been feeling kind of off lately, not quite right. Pain in my side and abdomen. The last few days throwing up if I ate and drank much. It’s a bit like before.”
Dean moved closer and held you as he asked, “Are you thinking you have another mass, the fibroid, or something else?”
“I don’t know, and that scares me. I want it to be nothing, but we both know my luck isn’t that good. I have an appointment next Wednesday with my OB/GYN. I figured it would cut some of the middle wait time out.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“Thanks, but I think I will be ok alone with this first visit.”
“Wait, don’t you have your foot appointment that day?”
“Yes, but it’s in the morning.”
Wednesday your appointments finally arrived. You had been having trouble with your foot for a few years now, it had gotten so bad you couldn’t even wear a tennis shoe anymore. You actually were supposed to have surgery on it a few years ago, the same year you had found the mass and had to have that removed instead. It was a pretty simple appointment; they did updated x-rays since you hadn’t had any in over a year and talked again with the surgeon about what surgery would entail. He was a foot and ankle specialist at the University hospital. This was going to be your third foot/ankle related surgery but the first on your right foot. You had had different doctors each time, and you like this one the best. He was extremely knowledgeable and easy to talk to. You may have been nervous for this surgery, but that was because of everything it was going to involve. You were born with as the doctors called them extremely high arches. It had caused you a number of problems over the years, sprained ankles, multiply breaks, and your two other surgeries. They were going to go in and break your fifth metatarsal and put a plate in there and realign it, cut the Achilles tendon and lengthen it, you had tears in the Peroneal tendon which had to be fixed and then attached to the Brevis tendon to strengthen it, ligaments on the inside and outside of the foot needed to be tightened or loosened depending on the side. You had had all of that done nine years ago on your other foot, but because of problems you had with that first surgery they were taking it a step further. They were going to cut the bones in your heel and realign them. That part was making you the most nervous. You would be spending the 3 months following surgery on crutches, possibly longer. You had spent enough time on them over the years, you were pretty good on them at least. You had been planning on the surgery happening in January, you couldn’t put it off any longer.
The worst part of all this has been the not knowing because your mind is great at making up worst case scenarios, you were a bit worked up for your afternoon OB appointment. You and your doctor talked and going over your symptoms he was sending you for a CT scan the following week because he thought you might have a kidney stone based on some of your symptoms. He also ordered an ultrasound to check on the fibroid. They don’t do anything with fibroids until they are over 4 cm and causing problems. When yours was found it was at 3.3 cm, so they had just put you on birth control. The doctor talked about what could happen if it was the fibroid. You might need surgery to remove it, if it was to big, they might have to take the uterus out or there were shots out that put you in menopause for a while. You were due back in his office in two and half weeks to go over the tests. More waiting, just great.
Dean had dinner waiting for you when you got home. You explained the tests the doctor wanted and what he told you he was thinking. You never thought you would be in a spot where kidney stones were an option you were hoping for. You two spent the evening on the couch watching movies compromising on your choices. Since Halloween was coming soon Dean wanted a horror movie, you agreed if you watched that one first and ended your night with The Proposal. That way your mind wasn’t on a horror movie just before bed.
The next week went fairly quickly and your tests were done you were just waiting on follow up. You and Dean both busy at work during the days. You had lost a manager, you mom had been taking on a lot of caterings which kept her out of the store, and Donna couldn’t pick up more hours because she was taking care of her sister, Jody’s daughters at night. All this meant you were working open to close three to four days a week and at least 8 hours the other days. You would get home at night and not want to move from your couch. Friday morning you were doing your prep work when you received a call from your doctor’s office. They had both of your results in. They didn’t find kidney stones; the fibroid had doubled in size and there was a mass on your remaining ovary. Your follow-up appointment with them was 10 days away, but they wanted to see you as soon as you could come in the next day they were open, which was Tuesday. The last surgery you needed was like that, everything done asap. You had found out about the mass and a week later you were in surgery.
You hung up with them and called Dean in tears. Your mind automatically going through worse case scenarios. He did his best to calm you down and tell you everything would be okay. You two were going to be alright. You called your mom when you hung up from Dean and filled her in on your results. Making yourself get back to work.
Being a Friday, you had a busy lunch rush and had a bit of clean up and more prep work to get ready for the dinner rush. You were working in the back when the door buzzer went off notifying you of someone coming in. Donna called you to the front saying a customer needed your help. The first genuine smile you had all day coming to your face as you took in Dean standing there with a bunch of colorful flowers.
“Oh Dean, they’re beautiful! Thank you!”
“Not half as beautiful as you Y/N, how are you holding up sweetheart?”
“I’ve been better. It’s going to be a long weekend waiting to see what he has to say. My mom talked to my cousin who does some work at the hospital, a friend of hers works for an OB/GYN who has been around awhile and is the only one in town who does this surgery robotically. I have an appointment with him next week also for his opinion.”
“It’s all going to work out, no matter what it’s you and me together. I have to get back to work and I know you do to, I just wanted to stop in and see how you were doing.”
“Thank you, Baby, I appreciate it so much. I love you.”
“Love you too Sweetheart. I will see you at home tonight”
When you weren’t at work, you and Dean hung out at home over the weekend. He did his best to take his mind off of your upcoming appointment. You greatly appreciated his effort. Before you knew it, Tuesday afternoon rolled around. This time dean accompanied you to the appointment. The doctor explained that the fibroid was now at 6.7cm and was what was causing your problems. He was really pushing these shots you take once a month that put you in menopause for six months. He told you that it would shrink the fibroid, and that would be best to start with. The other options he was giving you were waiting and getting another ultrasound end of December/early January and coming back then or go in and do surgery sometime. You weren’t sure how you felt about either of those options but were glad he wasn’t going in right away to take out the uterus. What did frustrate you the most, was how the call on Friday made it sound like things were worse and you needed to come in asap for something to be done, and the doctor wasn’t doing anything right now.
You and Dean both felt a little calmer when you left the office. “What are you thinking about your options, Darling?”
“Honestly, I’m not so sure about those shots, I would need a lot more information on them first. The whole being put into menopause has me nervous. That’s not something I ever thought I would be thinking about at 31. When I talked to the nurse on the phone Friday she made this seem so much worse, and he’s not doing anything other than the shots now. I guess we’ll see what the other doctor says tomorrow.”
The next morning you and Dean were at the other doctor’s office. New patient paperwork all filled out and you were waiting to go back. Your cousin’s friend called your name and took you back. She had been talking to your mom, so she knew what was going on and had shared it with the doctor. You asked her opinion on the shots, and she just shook her head. She told you there wasn’t any guarantee it would even work, and there was a lot of risk with what going into menopause could do to you and your chance of having a child. You would have to sign a number of documents that said you didn’t hold that company responsible for any of the large number of side effects.
“I wasn’t sold on them before, I’m really not know” you told her and Dean.
The doctor came in shortly after and did quick exam. You had asked his opinion on what to do, he said taking it out would be the best thing to try and preserve the uterus and a chance for you to have children in the future. Yes, you could have a child with a fibroid on the uterus, but as big as it was it could cause problems. It didn’t end up being a long appointment because he was called away for a birth. He did order 2 tests and you set those up before leaving. One was another ultrasound to check where the fibroid was and if that would cause any problems itself. The other was to check the uterus for any cancer spots, they did warn you that one could be painful, and you weren’t going to want to do much after the test was done. You had those both scheduled for the following Tuesday and Wednesday.
As you walked out to your cars you asked Dean “What did you think of him, and everything said?”
“They are both pretty against the shots, and I know you didn’t really like the idea of them either. You cousin said he has more experience, right?”
“Yes, he does. I’ve talked to a few others that know him, and they all like him. Donna’s aunt was an OB and she referred patients to him if it was something she couldn’t do.”
“Ultimately Y/N, it comes down to what you think, and what you want to do. We can talk more at home on your thoughts and see what these tests say. I will support your decision no matter what.”
“Thank you, Babe. I love you. Have a great day at work.”
“I love you too. I hope you have a great one as well.”
You were talking to Donna at work about everything that you had found out. She had spent a little time working in her aunt’s office and at one point had been premed in school, you valued her opinion.
“You need to get it taken out girly, it’s already grown a lot on you. I know how much you and Dean want kids. If you wait too long you run the risk of losing that chance.”
“Part of me knows that, but the other part of me is worried about what is going to happen during surgery.”
“That’s understandable, any surgery there is a risk. This doctor has done thousands of these, you’ll be fine, most importantly you’ll be better. Don’t ignore this, Dean and you can adopt if you can’t have kids, Dean won’t be fine if he loses you. Don’t do those shots, there is a lot of risk with those, and you could run into even more problems.”
“Those shots are pretty much off the table, I really don’t like the idea of them. I know your right, a part of me just really doesn’t want more surgery. The last week the pain has gotten worse so I don’t know that I can put this off.”
“I know Sweetie, surgery makes anyone nervous. This will all work out.”
“Thanks, Donna, you are an amazing friend.”
After dinner that night you and Dean were sitting in the living room and you decided you weren’t going to think about any medical issues. While he had the game on you grabbed your computer and recipe binder. Settling next to Dean on the couch you pulled up Pinterest and Christmas recipe ideas. You had been scrolling for a few minutes when Dean looked over at your screen.
“What are you looking up Christmas for?”
“Mom and Dad’s Christmas party is a month from tomorrow, and I need to get my baking list around.”
“What do you mean a month away, that’s before Thanksgiving?”
“With Thanksgiving being so late this year, they are doing it the Saturday before. That way it has less chance running into other Holiday parties. You don’t want to do it Thanksgiving weekend, and then there are only three other weekends before Christmas and there will be a bit going on. So I need to figure out what’s on my baking list this year, what’s staying, what I’m adding.”
“It’s too early to talk Christmas.”
“Hallmark starts Christmas movies this weekend, Saturday has some of my favorites we can watch after work!”
“It’s not even Halloween Y/N, I’m not watching Christmas movies!” Dean threw his head back against the couch turning slightly to glare at you.
“You say that now, we’ll see what happens when I get that remote,” you smirked. “I could happily watch them year-round.”
“Ehh, your getting better with that. You used to be into Christmas songs and movies 361, the couple days leading up to Christmas Eve and sometimes that morning you were a little bah humbug saying you were done with all of it. Then the day after Christmas you start singing Frosty again.”
You just glared at him for a minute, “It was the stress, and trying to get everything just right and make everyone happy. My shopping will be done, before 2 days before Christmas this year. I’m going to enjoy it, no stress.”
“Sure thing, Sweetheart, whatever you say. We’ll see how you are on December 23rd.”
“Going back to the Holiday of the month we are actually in, Sam wanted to know if we wanted to come over Thursday night. See Jake in his first Halloween costume, hand out candy to the Trick-or-Treaters. Mom and dad are going to be there too.”
“Sure I’m in. It’s usually a busy night for us so I will be over after I can leave work.”
“Okay so we have my usual baking items: Sugar cookies I think I’m going to keep it simple and just do drop cookies instead of cut outs, buckeyes, peanut butter blossoms, no bakes, petit-fours, truffles, cranberry bars and the varieties of chocolates those I’ll make with mom. Now I need to figure out some new ones. Hey what do you think about, hey, where are you going?”
“I need a beer if we are going to talk about your crazy Christmas baking list.”
You waited for Dean to settle back next to you to show him your finds.
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042596801/
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042596805/
“You’re on a Grinch kick this year aren’t you? You mentioned a few weeks ago you wanted a Grinch sweatshirt this year.”
“Maybe, part of me is. Anyways thoughts? What about these?” https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042556919/
“Ooohhhh, Do you think I could make these?” https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040748115/
“We aren’t going to be using our kitchen to make actual food anytime soon are we? I love you and you are very talented when it comes to your baking but I don’t know if you have the patience for those cupcakes.”
“You’re probably right, it does tend to run thinner when I’m trying to get all this stuff done. Look on the bright side, the party is early this year so I will have the kitchen back to normal sooner.”
“Sureee you will.”
You weren’t going to admit it to Dean right now, but you were trying to force yourself into the Holiday spirit. With everything going on you weren’t sure you were going to be in the celebrating mood this year. You knew how much he loved the Holiday, and the time with family together. You would put on a happy face for him.
Dean took you to your appointment Tuesday afternoon, because they didn’t recommend driving after since you were going to be in a bit of pain. It wasn’t even a five minute test to go take a swab of the uterus lining to send in to check for abnormal or cancer cells. They were right though, you definitely hurt after. You and Dean picked up food on the way home so neither of you would have to cook or clean up. He got you situated on the couch with a heating pad after you got home. You two spent another quiet night in. The next afternoon you took yourself to your ultrasound. The results for both tests would be back in time for your appointment the following Tuesday.
Thursday was Halloween, and you were short handed at work again, but not as busy as you were expecting to be. You left around 7 and headed over to Sam and Jess’ house. 5-month-old Jake was dressed up in a cute duck onesie. After saying hi to the couple, your husband, and his parents you grabbed some food and settled down with Jake. You were told you just missed Cas, his wife Kelly, and their son Jack. The one year old getting cranky and ready for bed. Jess and Mary joined you shortly. The guys were watching one of the All Saint’s Day movies. Apparently having a little one to get excited about put Sam in a better Halloween mood then he usually was in. Mary asked how you were doing; Dean had apparently told her a few days before and Jess had just found out tonight.
“I’m alright, it’s been going on over a month and I think at this point I want a plan. I want to know what’s going to happen. But I want to make sure that we decide on the right course of action too.”
Both ladies assured you they thought you would be fine, and that everything would work out for you. Your attention turning to the little boy on the floor in front of you.
You spent your weekend working and had started some grocery shopping for you baking supplies. Those supplies then found a home on your kitchen counter. So Dean was right, he was slowing losing the kitchen for a little while.
Tuesday afternoon saw you and Dean back in your new doctor’s office waiting to be called back. It wasn’t a long wait and you headed back. Thankful your tests had come back normal and the new ultrasound didn’t show any new problems. Because of the last surgery you had there was to much scar tissue in your abdomen for the surgery to be done robotically, and the fibroid was too big. You did have the option for another procedure, he described it as resetting your uterus. He did tell you it wouldn’t do anything for the fibroid, but it could get your periods back under control and might lesson some pain, you would need a few days off work. The best chance you had if you wanted to get pregnant sometime was to have the fibroid removed. Now you just needed to make a decision on what you were going to do. You were leaning toward surgery and when you didn’t make a definitive decision the doctor told you to come back in 2 weeks. When you were checking out and scheduling the next appointment you asked how far out the wait for surgery was. His calendar was filling up and he only had December 9th and 23rd open.
On your way home you and Dean talked about what you both were thinking. You told him you were leaning toward surgery, and he also thought that would be your best choice. Now you just weren’t sure you really wanted to wait. If you called your first doctor, he could do the surgery in two weeks, he just had to wait for insurance purposes. Honestly, he was never busy. That put you the day before your parents Christmas party or waiting till the next weekend which was the day after Thanksgiving. Another problem you had was making sure you had help at work. Right now, you didn’t have the help to do it. If you pushed it too far into December it was going to be a problem with your foot surgery. They had said with your stomach because they were cutting it open you would need to be careful not to tear your stitches for a few weeks and be limited for 6 weeks with what you could do. Crutches weren’t going to be a good thing to mix in.
Your parents, you and Dean all talked. You didn’t have the help to do the surgery in November, December wasn’t a good idea because of your next surgery. You decided if the doctor thought you could wait you would do the foot surgery in January and then six weeks later when you should be able to start putting some pressure on your foot you would have the other. That way the six weeks you needed to be careful with the second surgery would be ending in time for therapy in May. Work was going to be getting better help wise because you were selling on of your locations. The gas station next door to one of them wanted to expand and the only way they could was if they bought your property. That deal was supposed to close first of January. Your foot surgery was scheduled for the 16th. Things seemed to fall in to place for that all to work out.
You still weren’t feeling the best, but you were glad to have noticed you didn’t have the pain in your side and stomach every day anymore. It had turned into just having really bad periods every few weeks.
When you went to your appointment two weeks later you went alone and talked to the doctor about your thoughts and timeline. He didn’t think that would be a problem, telling you before he left that removing it was your best option. They weren’t’ scheduling yet for February or March so they would call you when those books opened.
If you were honest, you were feeling better with what you had decided on. Also, the fact that no one was worried enough to say you had to get in right now for surgery. You were still going to worry between now and surgery it was just who you were.
It was the third week of November, your new focus on the upcoming Holidays. You had already started your baking, freezing everything once it was made cooled and put in an airtight container. The list was still shorter this year it only had about 15 things on it. You didn’t get the Grinch recipes made, or the snow globe cupcakes, but you did make the thumb print snowmen. Next year. Two days before the party you moved on from baking to getting the food you were doing around. In between all this also trying to help your mom decorate their house and putting decorations up at yours. You didn’t end up doing as much to your house as you usually would, but just less to take down after and you knew things would be crazy then.
The day of the party both you and your mom ended up being stuck at work longer than you were supposed to be. This meant you had to work quicker when you got home. Dean went to your parents with you to help with the last minute set up. It was nice living on the same street as them, so you didn’t have far to go. With the final cleaning finished you were in the kitchen with Dean starting to get food around while your mom ran upstairs to shower. Your brother and his girlfriend coming shortly after. They had been dating for almost a year, but she didn’t come around much, so you didn’t know her well. Trying to ask her questions about herself didn’t get you very far because she only gave one-word answers. You looked to Dean and he just shrugged his shoulders, not knowing how to get much out of her either. When your mom came back down, and the food was in good shape you and dean went home to get ready and get the desserts.
You always enjoyed this party it was family from both of your parent’s sides, Dean’s family started coming when you two were dating. A variety of your parent’s friends along with your brother’s and yours. You were surprised to see more cars in the driveway when you returned. Cas, Benny and Kelly were in the kitchen talking to your dad and brother, along with one of his old friends from school. It didn’t take long for the house to fill up with people and the sounds of laughter. It was close to one by the time you and Dean went home after helping to clean up. You were beat and ready to fall into bed, Dean not far behind.
The restaurant you were selling, was the store you spent every day at, it had been your baby over the last 8 years. Since you were going to be closing it soon you had cut back on the Sunday hours which meant you and Dean could enjoy a lazy morning after the party. It was nice not to get up and go, you had missed the relaxing mornings you two used to enjoy. When you finally dragged yourselves from bed it was to the kitchen to make a late breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast. You would have to head in to work after lunch, but that didn’t mean you had to be in a hurry to get ready. After cleaning up the kitchen Dean dragged you back to the bedroom where you spent a little more time catching up.
That week was Thanksgiving which meant a shorter work week for you both. Thursday morning started off much like Sunday’s had, although you both had to be out the door by noon and have your food and deserts ready. A late lunch with your family at your grandmother’s house was first. The Y/L/N could be a rowdy group, so it was usually a good time as long as you could avoid any family arguments. After cleaning up there you would head to Dean’s parents where they had an early dinner. You tried not to eat too much at either place for two reasons, one you wanted to be able to move later and two you were trying to avoid being sick. It didn’t hit you as much as before, but you never knew when it would. After the guys collapsed in front of the football game on tv, Mary and Jess hit the adds. You left to go pick up your mom. The last two years you to had done some Thursday evening shopping because you both worked on Friday, and it gave you time just he two of you. You hit the mall and a few stores trying to start on your shopping list. You meant it when you told Dean that everything was going to be done early this year. You were going to enjoy the Holiday season. When you finished you dropped her back at home before going back to your in-laws. A short time later you and Dean headed home.
Much like it does every year December flies by. You hadn’t finished your shopping as early as you wanted, but you weren’t as stressed about it this year. You enjoyed nights with Dean curled up on the couch. You had seen the Grinch more times than you could count this year, I guess you were having a Grinchy year. Before you knew it, Christmas Eve was here. Both you and Dean worked that morning before meeting your families at church for the 4 o’clock service. You had to go early if you wanted a park, and a seat. It was always so beautifully decorated for Christmas, you enjoyed taking it all in waiting for Mass to start. One of your favorite parts of this service was when Father would call any little kids up that wanted to and ask them questions about the religious aspects of the holiday. Where was Jesus born? Your favorite answer this year was Baltimore. What gifts did the baby receive? Cake and ice cream. The answers they came up with were always a laugh. You hoped you would be sending your own child up there someday.
Everyone headed to your parents’ house after, some other family and friends would be joining you. You had dinner and then played games. As you and your cousins had grown so had the games. Jake was the only child present and he wasn’t old enough to understand what was going on. With all the adults playing it could get a little rowdy especially between Sam and Dean. One of your aunts had done that gifts wrapped in a saran wrap ball and it seemed like only those two could make much progress. So of course, when one of them was trying to unwrap the other would give a little trash talk. You had been feeling a little off and would disappear from the room. When the ball was unwrapped, and Dean saw you left again he came to find you. He found you sitting on the steps just outside your parents’ upstairs bathroom.
“Everything all right, Sweetheart?”
“Not really, my stomach is hurting me a bit and if I try to eat or drink I’m running to the restroom because it’s going to make a reappearance.”
“Anything I can do to make it better?”
“Thank you, but no I just need to tough it out.”
“Soon Y/N this is all going to be behind you honey.”
“I cannot wait.”
He held you close as you both sat on the steps for a few minutes softly kissing the top of your head. When you rejoined your family, they were on to a different game. The two of you hanging back to watch. When the time came to leave you were more than ready to head home just so Dean could hold you in bed. You fell into a fitful sleep that night, not feeling all that much better when you awoke.
The two of you were spending the morning at your mom and dad’s and then going to John and Mary’s in the afternoon. Your dad’s mom and siblings joined you for breakfast and afterwards you exchanged gifts. Luckily, you only had to leave the room once. Dean knew you weren’t feeling well so the two of you left shortly after to go home before heading to his parent’s house. When you arrived, you headed to the kitchen to help Mary. The two of you got along really well, you often considered yourself luck in that way. A few of your friends didn’t have the best relationship with their in-laws. By the time Sam and Jess arrived dinner was ready, and you all gathered round the table to enjoy. It was a great night spent with them.
The end of December was quickly approaching, and you hadn’t heard anything from the company buying your story, communication had just stopped. After you talked to your dad, he started making phone calls to the company again to see what was going on. Their plans for the property and been pushed back a few months so they were no longer in a hurry to close. You ended up pushing your foot surgery back there weeks till the 6th of February. Your dad finally got a date out of them you were closing on Monday the 3rd of February, that would also be the last day open. You would spend the next two days moving everything out. The New Year wasn’t even here yet and you knew it was going to be going fast.
Things were going to get busy for you in January, so you and Dean decided you just wanted a quiet night in for New Year’s. At the store you picked up a bottle of Sparkling Cider to toast with, neither one of you big Champagne drinkers, along with a few different appetizers to make. The evening was spent curled up on the couch watching movies, until you switched over to watch the ball drop. Sharing a sweet kiss with Dean when midnight arrived. This was going to be your year. The surgeries would be done soon, you and Dean could move on with the rest of your lives, it was all going to work out and be fine.
You had been right when you told Dean January would be crazy. You spent the month working on cleaning out things at work. The office took a bit of time, dividing up what was going home and what you were sending to your new office. Cleaning out things you didn’t use any more, what you were selling and what was moving to the other location. On top of all that you were trying to keep a relatively clean house and not let everything there fall on Dean’s shoulders. Everyday it seemed like a little bit more left the store and the shelves were slowly becoming bare.
Sunday through Wednesday of closing week was going to be extremely chaotic for you all, so you wanted things at home that needed to be done before surgery finished by Saturday. You cleaned the house top to bottom, rearranged the living room furniture so it would be easier to navigate on crutches, got the crutches ready, finished laundry and tried to stock up on non-perishable groceries so Dean wouldn’t have to go out as much.
The last two days you were open were particularly emotional for you. This location had been your baby and second home for the last 8 years, you had helped with the cleaning, gutting, and remodeling of the building when you bought it. Everything was set up just how you wanted it. When you went back to work in a few months at the other location it was going to be vastly different. Sitting at the closing you were trying to hold back the tears as you signed the papers, part of you wished Dean was there to give you some of his strength but he had to be at the shop that day since he was taking the next 3 days off. Leaving the closing you went to work to open for the last time. That day was extremely busy for your and Donna so many of your loyal customers coming in one last time. Dean came in for a late lunch giving you a much-needed hug, he left after promising to be back before closing. Dean along with your parents came back before closing helping you to clean up and finish making orders. When you turned the open sign off one last time Dean pulled you into his arms and held you while you cried.
“It’s okay Sweetheart. It’s the start of a new chapter, you have a lot of memories to take with you.”
“Thanks, Dean. I know, I just hate goodbyes, and change.”
“I know you do, but it’s a good one. Keep telling yourself that. Closing this story is going to help greatly relieve some stress.”
“You’re right, Babe.”
“Hey! I’m always right. We should probably head home; we have an early busy day tomorrow.”
It was six am when you and Dean pulled back into the parking lot the next day. You had wanted a few minutes without the others around to take care of some of your stuff. By 6:30 someone was there to disconnect the water lines so the pop dispenser and ice machine could be moved. Your parents arrived at 7 and you started loading both of their trucks and the trailer with items going to the other store. Sam arrived and went with Dean in one of the trucks following your mom to go unload. Electricians, and others arrived to get the oven and its components unhooked. You had gone around the day before and put a note on everything stating where it was going, whether the other store, your or your parents’ house for storage, staying in the building or going somewhere and you just didn’t know where yet. The movers were the last to arrive taking some of the bigger equipment for you, this way you guys didn’t have to figure out how to get it on and off a trailer. Dean and Sam arrived back to help load the truck and your SUV. At one-point Dean took one of the “going somewhere” notes and tapped it to your back. It was awhile and two stops later before anyone told you. It was 6 o’clock that night when you put the last load in your car to leave for the day, heading home to unload one more time. By the time it was unloaded your foot hurt so bad you could barely walk, both you and Dean collapsing on the couch not moving till you went to bed.
The next day you had a few more things to get out of the store and had to meet the pop company to pick up their equipment since they couldn’t come the previous day. You left the store that afternoon for the final time. Your OB and scheduled one last ultrasound you had to run and get that done, thankfully the fibroid had not changed from your last one in December. One more grocery store run to stock up for a bit, then home to vacuum and make sure you were all packed for the hospital.
Both your mom and Dean were going with you for surgery, but Dean had an early morning meeting the next day he couldn’t reschedule so your mom was staying the night in the hospital and bringing you home the next day. It was an hour drive and you had to be there at 6:30 for an 8:30 surgery. You went through all your pre-op things and your mom and Dean joined you back there waiting for you to go. Several people were in and out of your little curtain room, the surgeon, anesthesiologist, nurses, and med students. It was finally time to wheel you back after getting one last hug and kiss from Dean and him telling you everything would be fine. A few hours later you woke up in recovery which is where you saw Dean and your mom again. It is also where you found out they didn’t have a room for you, and you were staying in a short-term patient ward. It was almost like a pre-op room, one giant room with 15 curtained off rooms. Actually, the pre-op room was bigger. There was a bed a chair and one of the old hospital TVs that moved. The back of your foot where they did the heal work was bleeding through your after surgery splint and they said it would take a few hours to stop so they propped it up and told you, you couldn’t get out of bed. It only took a few hours for you to be tired of sitting in one spot, as someone who spent all day on her feet this was a struggle. Sleeping in a hospital had never come easy for you with your previous surgeries and adding all the extra noise with so many people around that wasn’t happening either. It was later in the afternoon when you told Dean he should go.
“Babe, you might as well head home, you have an hour drive and there isn’t anything you can do here. Plus, there really isn’t any room in here.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave if you need me.”
“We will be fine, I’m not moving, and mom will be here if I need something. Go home get some rest it’s been a long week. I love you I’ll see you at home tomorrow.”
“Love you too, I’ll call you later. Take care Sweetheart. Y/M/N, call me if you need something or anything.” He gave you a kiss and hugged your mom before leaving.
The rest of the evening and night dragged on, when you finally fell asleep that night you woke up almost every half and hour. The nurses were in every hour, and around 2am one of the other patients started screaming because he pulled something out he shouldn’t have. By 5 am you gave up on sleep. One of the doctors came in later in the morning to wrap another layer of gauze around your splint to cover up the blood, and by noon they let you go home.
The next two weeks went fairly quickly, Dean made a good nurse when he was home at night getting you whatever you needed so you didn’t have to get up or try and carry anything while using the crutches. You had practiced on the crutches before surgery, but it is still a little different when you have to be using them. As your family knew well, you were also accident prone and managed to slip and slam your foot down a handful of times. Both your parents, and his would stop over during the day to see if you needed anything or to bring you lunch. The stitches and staples came out at the two-week mark, that wasn’t a fun experience you had never had it hurt as much as it did this time. The doctor wasn’t putting you in a cast, he was going to let you leave in a boot which you would be able to take off if you were sitting with it up or to shower. Thank you for small miracles! The next appointment was four weeks away, the Friday before your Monday surgery.
The next month went fine for you, just very long. You were still stuck at home so things did get a bit boring, a number of new games could be found on your phone and you found a website with fanfiction from your favorite show you started reading. While fine for you, things were going nuts in the outside world, something called Covid-19 was making a lot of people extremely sick, overseas countries shut down and in the U.S., many states were doing the same thing. Your follow up appointment was cancelled and moved to a video chat, then days before it was scheduled your next surgery was cancelled. Stay at home orders were put in place and masks were required for those who had to leave the house.
It was definitely a crazy time and it went on for a few months. 6 weeks after you last video appointment, during the first full week of May, you had another and this one sent you to therapy if you could find someone open. You could also lose the boot and work on losing the crutches. The place you had gone for past surgeries was open and you started back there. This surgery was the hardest time you had to start walking again. There was a bit of pain if your heel hit the ground, so you couldn’t completely get rid of the crutches like you wanted to. The therapist you were working with said with the type of surgery done to your heel, the pain you had with it would determine what you could do and how fast you would get there.
You got a call from your OB’s office, they were given the clear to start surgeries again and yours was scheduled for June 1st, which was two weeks away. You had had a few problems over the last couple of months and just hoped nothing had changed and they would be able to just go in and take the fibroid out no problem. The closer the date got the more worried you became. Dean tried to tell you everything was going to be fine, and not to worry, but you aren’t the best listener. Because of things going on with Covid, you needed to be home the week before surgery as much as possible only going to therapy twice and the grocery store once early in the week to get a few things you wanted. For the last three months Dean had done the shopping, and you were thankful, but there were a few things you wanted to get yourself. Saturday you were going to have to get a Covid test and then had to self-isolate until you left for the hospital on Monday morning. The hardest part of that was going to be sleeping in a different room from Dean, you were even supposed to wear a mask when he was in the same room as you. You had spent the week before rearranging the living room again, then cleaning the house best you could as you hobbled around. Friday night you spent the evening with Dean curled up in your spots on the couch. The closer you got to surgery the more nervous you became.
“Sweetheart, everything is going to go just fine. There is nothing for you to worry about, and no matter how much you worry it isn’t going to change anything.”
“I know, I’m just, I can’t help it. You know how my mind works I’m great at going to the worse case possible. I’ve always wanted kids, and I know you did too, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to give that to you.”
“Hey, it’s you and me no matter what happens. If we can have kids one day awesome, if not we will look into adopting. What’s not changing is you and me, we are in this together, always.”
“I love you. Thanks for being so amazing, especially during these last crazy months when I couldn’t do much on my own.”
“I love you, too. That’s what I’m here for, you would do the same thing for me. You always take care of me when I’m sick. I will always be here for you.”
“I will always be here for you too.”
Saturday morning you did a few more things around the house before giving Dean a kiss and leaving for your test. It went fairly quick your doctor’s office scheduled you an appointment and you preregistered. You headed home to work on laundry and make sure you bag was packed. That evening you and Dean were watching movies in the living room, although unlike usual you weren’t sitting together on the couch. Sunday was a warm sunny day, so you enjoyed it outside. Monday morning Dean took you to the hospital, you went through check in and then through the routine in pre-op. Just before they took you back you snuck in a quick hug and kiss from Dean.
“I love you, Baby, everything is going to be just fine. I will talk to you after surgery.”
“I love you too, thank you for everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for anything. We are in this together. Love you Sweetheart.”
Dean was able to stay at the hospital during surgery, but he had to leave after. They weren’t allowing visitors into the hospital, so you were going to be on your own in the hospital for the next three days. Dean headed to the waiting room and they came to wheel you back to surgery. Well, here goes nothing.
Part 2
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
Assemble
Chapter 3
Pairing- Loki x Reader x Steve (one side)
Warning- cursing
Your thoughts and other characters are in italics.
Flashback Bold
The next day. Y/n is standing outside a gym trying to keep her powers under control but but it’s hard when your surrounded by people.
What’s in my fridge right now?....Do I have any milk?
I think I’m pregnant with my brother in-law baby’s
How come you never read about a psychic
winning the lottery?
Am I Ashy? I hope I’m not Ashy.
Why is Batman a superhero when he brutally Beats up bad guys for saying hello.
When I get home I’m watching A Bug’s Life.
Calming down the voices she finally walks inside the gym and see Captain America. He’s beats the punching bag harder, like physically hurting it will repress the memories.
Hydra base, Captain America is running through a forest, didging mortar shells, gunfire and Tesseract energy blasts.
“There's not enough time! I gotta put her in the water!” Steve’s Voice echoed.
In the present, Steve's punches become harder and more violent.
Steve places the compass he has, featuring a picture of Peggy Carter, on the dash as the plane plummets towards the ice.
The present, punches become voilent and agressive.
“You won't be alone.” Peggy declared.
Red skull picked up the Tesseract, and vanishes.
In the present, Steve is beathing the bag with everything he has, destroying it and beating his fists.
“Oh my god!”
Steve is lying on a table, half frozen, and still partially trapped in a slab of ice. Two SHIELD scientists run equipment over him, checking for his vitals. Something flickers...
“This guy is still alive!”
Y/n gets pulled out of Steve’s mind. “Wow. That one way to come backwards to the world.
“You punch any harder your fist is gonna go though it.“
Steve stops punching the bag and turns around and see Y/n. “Agent Munroe ma’am. Phil told me that you were coming.”
“Y/n. Just call me Y/n.” She said with a smile.
Steve starts to punch the bag again. “It's nice to meet.”
“Likewise. So how do you feel?” Y/n asked showing concern for a man she just met.
Y/n walks up to a punching bag next to Steve and, starts playfully punching it.
“Like I belong in a different time.....all of this is so strange. Flat screen TVs, cars that run on electricity.....” Steve trailed off.
“It’s understandable but look at the bright side you can have food deliver to your house.” Y/n said with a fond look.
Steve looks at Y/n confused.
“Pizza. Chinese food... Oh men we have to make some stops before we go to Shield.” Y/n proclaimed.
“We don’t have time to make stops. They need us this is important.” Steve protested.”You’re right they do. But you need to experience this first and I know you're hungry.” Y/n insisted.
Steve sigh defeat. “Ok fine but only for an hour two at it’s tops.”
“Yes! You dont know it yet but This the start of an beautiful friendship.” Y/n said With a sincere smile as her and Steve walk out the gym.
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
Inside the Quinjet, Steve is sitting down with a tablet, watching the footage of the Hulk's attack on the Army at Culver University.
“We're about forty minutes out from base, sir.” One of the pilots said
Agent Coulson stands up from his seat and wipe his face with a napkin.
Francis’s pizza is so good.
Y/n chuckles as Coulson and walks over to her and Steve.
“So, this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me?” Steve asked.
“A lot of people were. I was assign to stop some of them. You were the world's first superhero.” Y/n replied.
“Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula.” Coulson informed Steve.
The Hulk roars with fury as he slams a jeep apart.
“Didn't really go his way, did it?” Steve queried.
“Not so much. When he's not that thing though, guy's like a Stephen Hawking” Coulson explained.
Steve looks confused.
Y/n leans over and whispers. “He's a smart person.”
“I gotta say, it’s an honor to meet you, officially.” Steve smiles at Coulson as he continues. “I sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping.” Steve looks down then a Y/n. He stands up, closes his laptop and walks to the side with Coulson following. “I mean, I was... I was present while you were unconscious from the ice. You know, it's really, it's just a... just a huge honor to have you on board.”
“Smooth. Real smooth Coulson.” Y/n lied.
“Well, I hope I'm the man for the job.” Steve remarked.
“Of course you are you’ve done amazing things in the past. You’re the perfect person for this job.” Y/n said sincerely and with a small smile.
“Ya Absolutely. Uh... we've made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input.” Coulson told Steve.
“The uniform? Aren't the stars and stripes a little... old fashioned?” Steve supposed.
“With everything that's happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old fashioned.” Coulson stated.
As Steve takes in Coulson's sentiment. The Quinjet lands down a massive battleship known as the Helicarrier. It has two runways. One with direct access to a hangar at the rear is aligned along the spine of the vessel. Y/n walks up to Phill.
“Does the name Ororo Munroe mean anything to you?” Y/n questioned.
“No. Does it suppose to.” Coulson lied.
“No I guess not.” Y/n remarked not hiding her disappointment.
Agent Coulson, Y/n, and Steve walk down the ramp, meeting up with Natasha.
“Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers.” Coulson said introducing the two.
“Ma’am?” Steve replied.
“Hi.” She looks at Coulson. “They need you on the bridge. They're starting the face-trace.”
“Nat” Y/n said happily. “I didn’t know you were going to be here Coulson doesn’t tell me anything.” Y/n hugs Natasha then they both look at Coulson like ‘explain.’
“See you there.” Coulson said walks away, leaving Steve and Y/n with Natasha, the pair walking towards the railing of the Helicarrier.
“It was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was gonna swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?” Natasha wondered.
“Trading cards?” Steve asked confused.
“They’re vintage, he's very proud.” Y/n disclosed.
Bruce Banner is seen walking around the ship, trying to stay out of the way while people walk in his way.
“Dr. Banner.” Steve called out.
The three walk up to each other and shake hands.
“Oh, yeah. Hi. They told me you'd be coming.” Bruce began. “You must be agent Munroe.”
“You can call me Y/n it’s nice to finally meet you.” Y/n replied.
“Thanks.” Bruce said in a casual tone.
“Word is you can find the cube.” Steve Inclined.
“Is that the only word on me?” Bruce questioned.
“Only word I care about.” Steve answered.
Bruce takes in the sentiment. “It must be strange for you, all of this.”
Steve looks off to where a group of men in training are running, remembering his days in the army. “Well, this is actually kind of familiar.”
“Gentlemen, you might want to step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breath.” Natasha disclosed.
The Helicarrier starts to shake as it prepares to take "sail". Others abord strap down planes and Quinjets in preparation.
“Is this a submarine?” Steve asked Y/n.
“Really? They wanted me in a submerged, pressurized metal container?” Bruce Said with sarcasm.
“No no it not a submerged.” Y/n answered.
The two both move closer to the edge of the Helicarrier. Four huge lift fans mounted on the sides starts to lift into the air as the ship takes flight. Steve watches in awe while Bruce just smiles.
“Oh, no. This is much worse.” Bruce said with mock astonishment.
The doors part and we enter the bridge of the ship. A flurry of activity, dozens of agents sit in front of their viewscreens. Agent Hill shouts instructions to leave. The camera turns to Nick Fury who is at the command chair.
“We're at lock, sir.” Agent Hill disclosed.
“Good. Let's vanish.” Nick answered.
The Helicarrier rises high into the heavens. Suddenly the entire ship is covered in reflecting mirrors, which then camouflages in the sky. Steve, Y/n and Banner walk through the glorious, gleaming bridge
“Gentlemen.” Nick started.
Steve gives Fury 10 bucks, referring to his earlier statement about never being surprised again. “And agent Munroe what a Surprise I thought you were in Sydney.”
“Well I got tired of helping Umm Marlin look for Nemo.” Y/n said with fire.
Fury walks over Banner and extends his hand. Banner, reluctantly shakes it.] Doctor, thank you for coming.
“Thanks for asking nicely. So, uh... how long am I staying?” Bruce asked.
“Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the clear.” Nick replied.
“Where are you with that?” Bruce asked.
Nick Fury turns to Agent Coulson to explain, while Natasha eyes an image of Clint Barton on a computer screen.
“We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cellphones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us.” Agent Coulson explained.
“That's still not gonna find them in time.” Natasha mumbled.
“Couldn’t we use spectrometers to speed up the process?” Y/n said pondering out loud.
“Yes that could work. How many spectrometers do you have access to?” Bruce voiced.
“How many are there?” Nick asked Bruce.
“Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?” Bruce said with determination
“Agent Romanoff, would you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory, please.” Nick order.
Natasha nods and walks off, leading Banner down the hall. “You're gonna love it, Doc. We got all the toys.”
Y/n goes to leave as well but gets stop by the sound of Nick Fury.
“Agent Munroe my office.” Nick announced.
“No offense but I don’t think you want that right now.” Y/n said fire.
“My office now.” Nick hissed ordered
Y/n and Nick walks to his office in silence. Y/n is barely holding back her anger and this Conversation with Director Fury is not going to help but she needs to get this off her chest or she’ll explode. Director Fury opens the door to his office and Motion for Y/n to walk in. She walks past him into the room and sit down in the chair in front of his desk. Director Fury closes the door and looks at Y/n.
“What are you doing here?” Nick asked.
“I’m here to help.” Y/n declared.
“You were supposed to be in Sydney.” Nick pointed out
“How do you know I was supposed to be in Sydney I haven’t called to do a check in.” Y/n teased.
I wonder if he’s going to tell me that he has a Tracking Device on me.
“Agent Coulson told me of your whereabouts.” Nick answered.
“Hmm I bet he did.” Y/n replied.
”Your assistance is no longer required we can we can handle it from here head home.” Nick ordered.
“Are you kidding me.” Y/n shouted. As she shot up from her seat. “I’m the only one here that knows anything remotely about Loki and you’re gonna bench me.”
”And how would you know that.” Nick questioned.
“re.....search.” Y/n lied.
Nick gives Y/n ‘the I’m not believing you’ look.
“Ok fine I was there ok I fought The Destroyer.” Y/n confessed.
“I already knew I was just waiting on you to tell me.” Nick replied.
“Of course you knew why wouldn’t you know.” Y/n said dryly.
“I’m not saying you’re not best the person for the job I’m saying it’s not safe with your condition.” Nick remarked.
“My cond- what is my condition?”
“It is not....it’s not safe for the people on this Helicarrier if you don’t have control your powers.”
“You want to talk about safety of the people, was you trying to keep me safe by not telling me my mother is alive or keeping me away from Gambit.” Y/n Stated.
The anger she felt roll off of her like a wave which made the room begin to shake.
“Y/n I didn’t tell you because-“
“You are afraid another November 18 is gonna happen.....ye have little faith. I want Gambit here now and if you can’t get him here I want a number. I’m not talking those stupid pills anymore.” Y/n declared as she throws the pill bottle in trash. “And I’m going to stay here and help and you’re going to allow it.” Y/n finished as she walks out of the room not waiting for his response.
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
Back in the underground lab, Loki is looking Looking through all the Shield Agent portfolios until he comes across one in particular. Agent Munroe’s portfolio. As Loki opens portfolios to read it he finds every page in there to be blank.
“Agent Barton a word.” Loki called.
Clint walks over to Loki like a puppet with strings.
“What do you know of Agent Munroe?” Loki asked.
“She is a powerful mutant that can control the weather and read minds.” Clint answered.
“Read minds hmm that will be all.” Loki said smirking.
Erik and several scientists work around the CMS device. Clint walks in, holding a tablet.
“Put it over there!” Erik told Clint. “Where did you find all these people?”
“Shield has not shortage of enemies, Doctor.” Clint Stated as he holds up a screen showing information on Iridium. “Is this the stuff you need?”
“Yeah, iridium. It's found in meteorites, it forms anti-protons. It's very hard to get hold of.” Erik explained.
“Especially if Shield knows you need it.” Clint Mumbled
“Well, I didn't know!” Erik said gruffly. Then he Sees Loki walking in. “Hey! The Tesseract is showing me so much. It's more than just knowledge, it's... truth.”
“I know. What did it show you, Agent Barton?” Loki wondered.
“My next target.” Clint voiced
“Tell me what you need.” Loki replied.
“I'll need a distraction.” Clint said grabbing his bow. “And an eyeball.”
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
That night in the Helicarrier bridge. As they are waiting to locate Loki using satellite facial recognition, Coulson is standing with Steve.
“I mean, if it's not too much trouble.”Coulson suggested
“No, no. It's fine.” Steve reassured Coulson.
“It's a vintage set. It took me a couple of years to collect them all. Near mint, slight foxing around the edges, but...”
“We got a hit. Sixty-seven percent match. Weight, cross match, seventy-nine percent.” Agent Jasper Sitwell announced.
“Location?” Coulson asked.
“Stuttgart, Germany. 28, Konigstrasse. He's not exactly hiding.” Agent Jasper Sitwell answered.
“Captain, you're up.” Nick disclosed.
Steve nods and walks off the bridge. Walking down the hallway he passes Y/n.
“We found Loki he’s In Germany.” Steve informed Y/n as he’s walking down the hallway.
“Radio silence and now he’s making appearance that’s not strange at all.....You got this Cap now go show him who’s he’s Messing with.” Y/n sincerely with a smile.
“Yes ma’am.” Steve said with a fond look and a head nod.
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
Outside the Stuttgart Museum, it’s night. Loki is standing in front of the museum, dressed in 21st Century attire with his scepter disguised as a cane. He walks up to the entrance of the gala.
A lavished gala with an orchestra playing is interrupted as the head doctor walks up to the mic.
Inside Helicarrier where Steve's locker is. Steve walks into the locker room. As he approaches to the steel cabinet, the doors already reveal the updated Captain America uniform, along with the famous shield. He stands in silence.
Outside the museum. German guards stand in their positions. One of them is standing on tip of the roof, scoping. He then hears a sound. He looks down. One of his guards is shot with an arrow. He raises his gun. He is shot dead by an arrow. Falls down. Barton and his crew arrive at the doors of the locked science building. Barton looks at the retinal scanner.
He pulls out a Shield eye scanner instrument. Inside the gala, Loki looks from above the museum and descends down to where the head doctor is. As he makes it down and near the stage, he flips his cane the other end. The guard there notices him, pulls out his gun, but Loki clubs his head in. Chaos erupts. Guests begin to leave the museum. Loki grabs the doctor and flips him over onto a marble table of the mythological creatures bilchsteim. Loki pulls out an optical torture device. He plunges down the doctor's eye. The doctor twists in pain.
Outside the museum.
Suddenly from Barton's instrument, a holographic eye of the head doctor appears and the image of the doctor appears on screen. The doors to the facility open. Barton walks in and finds in a cabinet, a glass thermos with a cylinder of iridium. As the crowd runs away, Loki slowly walks out and materializes in his gold armor and helmet. The police arrive and with no hesitation, he blasts the cars, flipping them over and over.
“Kneel before me.” Loki voiced but crowd ignores him. Three more Loki's appear, surrounding and blocking the crowd from escaping. “I said KNEEL!” Loki yelled. While the crowd quietly kneels, Loki embraces out his arms with a wide smile
“Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.” Loki declared.
As the words resonate to the kneeling crowd, an elder German man refuses to kneel and stands, heroic. “Not to men like you.”
“There are no men like me.” Loki specified.
“There are always men like you.” Elder German Man remarked.
“Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example.” As Loki is about to execute the man with his scepter as the light glows blue. Right as the energy beam shoots out, Captain America arrives, diving in just in time to block the blast with his shield, and knocking down Loki.
“You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.” Captain America explained
Loki Standing up. “The soldier. A man out of time.”
“I'm not the one who's out of time.” Captain America replied.
From above Captain America, the Quinjet arrives. A machine gun is pointed towards Loki, while Natasha speaks from inside the aircraft.
“Loki, drop the weapon and stand down.”
Like greased lightning, Loki sends a blast of blue at the Quinjet. Natasha maneuvers it just in time, giving Cap the time to throw his shield at Loki. They both began to duke it out. Loki flings Cap to the ground, and then Cap throws his shield, but Loki swats it away. As Cap is knocked down by Loki, the scepter is pointed to Cap's helmet.
“Kneel.” Loki ordered.
“Not today!” Cap flips and knocks him out with his leg. Loki grabs him and flips him over]
“This guy's all over the place.” Natasha mumbled.
Suddenly AC/DC's "Shoot to Thrill" overdrives to the Quinjets speakers.
“Agent Romanoff, did you miss me?” Tony Stark wondered. Both Cap and Loki look up at the sky. Tony flies over in his Iron Man suit and blasts Loki right back to the ground. Iron Man touches down. He stands up and pulls out every piece of weaponry the suit has. “Make your move, Reindeer Games.”
Loki puts up his hands and surrenders. His armour materializes away
“Good move.” Tony said in a level tone.
“Mr. Stark.”
“Captain.”
Part 4
#loki x reader#loki x black!reader#steve x reader#steve x black!reader#thor x reader#avengers x reader#marvel x reader
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Timing Thing
Happy new year, everyone! A year ago I never imagined what this year would bring... and I’m not even talking about all the hard stuff, I’m talking about my love for Schitt’s Creek and the way the fandom has captured my heart. Who knew that my first 2021 fic would be a story about David Rose and Patrick Brewer? Not me. Anyway, here you go, the latest installment in my series of Episode 5 codas.
Best wishes and warmest regards for a better 2021.
David x Patrick, 1600 words, A03
Summary: Sometimes a lease is more than just a piece of paper.
Alexis shoots a pointed look at Patrick, gives David an exaggerated hug and two smacking air kisses, and flounces out of the store.
Patrick trails after her and flips the sign on the door to closed. “I think Alexis is mad at me,” he says, turning to David.
David focuses on the lip balms arranged by the cash register. Sometimes they topple over while he’s ringing customers up, resulting in lip balms rolling off the counter. This is obviously a problem that he needs to address right now, and it requires his full attention.
“David?” Patrick leans a hand on the counter, and David is graced with the view of his perfect nails, with their round nail beds. He’s never seen Patrick so much as chew on a cuticle.
“What?” he asks, when it becomes clear that Patrick is waiting for a response.
“Is Alexis mad at me?”
“No, why would you think that?”
“She’s not talking to me, for one. Also she sent me a string of emojis that either means she wants to kill me or go vampire hunting.”
Alexis is, in fact, mad at Patrick, although David really, really doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s humiliated enough over the apartment incident, he doesn’t need to explain to Patrick how excited his sister was for him over the idea that his boyfriend asked him to move in together, and how painfully embarrassing it was to tell her that Patrick hadn’t meant that at all.
“I should go. I’m meeting my mother for dinner.” David slips out from behind the counter, but Patrick stops him with a hand on his arm. It’s been a long day working in the store with Patrick always just a few feet away, but David made it through, doing his best to push aside all thoughts of his pathetic misunderstanding and just act natural. He’s not sure how much more he can take.
“David, please. Don’t go yet.” Patrick looks worried now, and that makes David’s heart ache in a way that isn’t fair. As raw as he’s feeling, he still doesn’t want Patrick to hurt. It’s making it hard to remember what to do.
David pauses, and lets Patrick turn him, his hands on David’s waist. Patrick opens his mouth to speak, but David cuts him off. “I’d invite you to dinner, but I think my mom is mad at you too.” Patrick’s face falls, and David wants to bang his head against something, but that would involve moving away from Patrick and he can’t bring himself to do that right now. He doesn’t want to be cruel to Patrick, he just needs to get out of this situation with his dignity and, hopefully, their relationship, intact. “Actually, that’s entirely untrue, I’m sure she’s on your side. She can’t imagine why anyone would want to live with me in the first place.”
“David, it’s not that-”
“No, I know, it’s okay-”
“David….” Patrick’s still got his hands on David’s body, and David loves it, loves that Patrick’s hands feel so natural on him. His own arms have come up to loop around the back of Patrick’s neck, which makes no sense at all, given that a large part of David’s brain is telling him to leave the store tout de suite before he gets himself into more trouble.
It’s as if his body doesn’t know anything’s wrong. It still wants to feel Patrick bump up against him, press a hand up against the small of his back over his sweater, guide him through their day. David slides his fingers up into Patrick’s hair and then leans his forehead on Patrick’s shoulder, unable to resist the comfort his boyfriend is offering.
“Come on,” Patrick says, after a minute or two of stalemated silence. “Let’s go for a walk.”
David can feel the way his face twists at the idea. “A walk?”
“Yeah. We need some fresh air.”
“I’m not sure I’m properly outfitted for a walk.”
“We’re not climbing a mountain, David, I think you’ll survive.”
David’s not thrilled, but he’s curious. He obediently follows Patrick out of the store, taking a moment to make sure the door is locked. “So where will this walk take place?”
“Right here,” Patrick says, and turns towards Bob’s Garage. “Come on.” He holds out his hand and wiggles his fingers, and David frowns. He takes Patrick’s hand and they start off down the sidewalk.
“I don’t see how this is going to help,” David says. “And I’m having dinner with-”
“Your mom, you said. But I can’t imagine your mom is going to be ready to eat until at least seven o’clock, and it’s only just after five.”
“Hmph.” Patrick has a point that’s hard to rebut. Moira Rose doesn’t dine with the early birds, and even David doesn’t need two hours to get ready for dinner at the café. It’s just that David doesn’t know what’s expected of him right now, and it’s making him anxious. His mother has been a thorn in his side often enough, it figures she’s also failing at being an appropriate getaway excuse.
They walk past a few drab houses and an empty lot. It’s not particularly scenic. David can’t help wondering where Patrick is taking him. “We’re not doing another ropes course, are we? Because I have to draw the line there.”
“No.” Patrick gives his hand a squeeze and smiles a little, although the smile doesn’t last long. It’s a shame, because Patrick’s smiles are lovely. At the same time it’s not all that surprising, given that his boyfriend might be taking him out into the woods to murder him. It doesn’t seem like something to smile about.
There’s a little park on the corner a few blocks past the garage, and it becomes clear that this is the destination Patrick has in mind. They stop in front of an old-fashioned metal slide and a set of playground equipment that has seen better days.
Patrick lets go of David’s hand and takes a seat on one of the swings, tilting his head at the one next to him.
“We should talk about inventory,” David says, gingerly sitting down on the swing and testing it to make sure it will hold his weight. “Then at least if there’s an accident we can claim it was a work meeting.”
“I don’t want to talk about inventory,” Patrick says.
David rolls his eyes. This goes without saying - of course Patrick doesn’t want to talk about inventory, or anything neutral and pain-free. Probably Patrick wants to lecture David on the appropriate type of relationship that lends itself to moving in together, and the ways in which their relationship just isn’t the moving in together kind. David imagines Patrick will do this in a very gentle and thoughtful way, and they’ll move past it, and everything will be okay, at least until David oversteps again. In some ways it will be better, even, because then David will know exactly where they stand.
Patrick catches himself with his feet, stopping his swing and then pushing off at the ground, until he is swinging in sync with David. He grins softly at David and holds out his hand again, like he did outside the store. David takes it, and the motion throws off David’s rhythm, making his swing veer sideways and twist off course. Patrick hangs on until they steady, swinging slowly back and forth together.
“I signed the lease on the new apartment today,” Patrick says. “During lunch, I met Ray and signed the lease.”
“That’s good,” David says, watching his sneakers get dusty as his toes push up puffs of dirt. “He really wanted that commission.”
“I had to put down first and last months’ rent, and a security deposit. It’s a twelve-month lease.”
David looks up and finds Patrick looking right back at him. He feels like he’s missing something.
“Um, that’s good?”
Patrick lets go of David’s hand and David’s swing twists again, until David puts his feet down to stop it. “You and I weren’t on the same page about the apartment,” Patrick says, looking frustrated.
“That has been made abundantly clear to me.”
“No, I mean…” Patrick stands up and the swing bumps against the back of his legs. “When I came here, I didn’t know how long I’d be staying. Renting a room at Ray’s was easy. I really didn’t think I’d be here long at all, I just had to go somewhere…”
David stands up too. It’s no fun swinging by himself, and besides, when Patrick gets that look on his face, David has to be closer to him. Patrick still feels guilty about leaving his hometown, even though he clearly needed the change. David’s hands land on Patrick’s shoulders and he rubs his thumbs over the cool cotton of his shirt. “It’s okay,” he says automatically.
“No, I haven’t even said….” Patrick presses his lips together and tries again. “The thing is, looking for a real apartment with a lease, I thought I was showing you something. Telling you something – something good.”
David meets Patrick’s gaze, and suddenly, looking into those warm brown eyes, he gets it. “A lease like that is a commitment.” A shiver runs down David’s spine.
“Yes,” Patrick says, and David can feel the immediate relief in his shoulders. David pulls him in close, hands sliding around his back, and Patrick melts against him. “David, I swear to god, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never even considered that you would think about moving in with me yet.”
“You were trying to make a grand declaration about the strength of our relationship, and I was afraid it was the opposite,” David says, almost to himself, as he holds Patrick against him. “Does that bode well for our future?”
Patrick breathes out a laugh. “I don’t know. But having some privacy does, right?”
David pulls back and lets the hope that has bubbled up inside him spread to his face. “Definitely.”
#Schitt's Creek#Schitt's Creek fic#David Rose#Patrick Brewer#first fic of 2021#happy new year everybody!#best wishes and warmest regards
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shirt Happens. (M. Way x Reader)
for: anon
request: I’m so happy to see that you’re back! Hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader is best frens with Mikey Way (include the others if you want to! I live for the way you write their interactions!) And she’s always stealing his clothes and acts like she isn’t (It’s super obvious though) and in the end they end up together? Sorry for the long ask, but thank you for reading!
note: here you go, my love. sorry it took so long; i hope you enjoy it! :) x
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“That’s a cool shirt.”
“Oh, thanks! I got it at my favourite store – Mikey Way’s Closet.”
Ray lowered his taco from his mouth and stared at you in disbelief. Raising both brows, you picked up your soda and took a gulp.
“You’re stilldoing that?” he gawked, shaking his head to ensure that his disapproval was very much clear. “Jesus, (Y/N), just tell the guy how you feel about him already.”
You almost choked on your Coke, a hand immediately flying to your mouth to prevent spillage as you suffered through a coughing fit.
“For the last time,” you wheezed, coughing once more and hitting your chest to ensure that you were clear before continuing, “It’s not like it; I only steal his clothes because they’re so much cooler than mine.”
“Riiight.” Ray ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded skeptically.
“I’m serious.”
Widening his eyes, he nodded and held up one hand to show that he was relenting. “I believe you.” He took a sip from his own drink. “He does know that you’re taking his clothes though, yes?”
Clearing your throat, you readjusted yourself in your seat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he does.”
✧✧✧
“WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SHIRT?”
Mikey let out an angry groan as he ruffled through his closet, tossing t-shirts and hoodies over his shoulder as he searched for the one that was eluding him. He’d been planning on wearing it tonight for a week – he’d even taken it out and placed it on his dresser – but now the damned thing was nowhere to be seen.
From downstairs, an irritated Gerard huffed as he checked the time on his phone before yelling out at his younger brother.
“Can you hurry the fuck up? We’re gonna be late!”
The singer’s voice reached Mikey’s room as a distant yell, muffled even more by the fact that Mikey’s was torso deep inside the jackets and shirts hanging in the closet. Nevertheless, the younger Way heard his brother’s call clearly, and responded with and equally frustrated response.
“I can’t find my fucking shirt!”
“Then just wear a different one!”
“No! You know I’ve been planning this for-“
The bassist had an epiphany then, and he stopped tossing clothing around as his face morphed into a scowl. Removing himself from the closet, he stomped over to the doorway and shouted down the stairs.
“Gee, I swear to God, if this is some kind of joke-“
“The fuck are you on about?” Gerard growled, annoyance growing by the minute as his brother delayed their departure from the house even further.
“This isn’t the first time my shit has gone missing,” Mikey pressed on, “and I know that it’s gotta be one of you-“
“OH, FOR THE LOVE OF-“
Now pushed way past his limit, Gerard stormed up the stairs with such vigour that Mikey could feel the floor shake all the way in his room. A moment later, he was shoved out of the way as Gerard barreled into his room and made a beeline for the closet, grabbing the first shirt he could find and throwing it at his brother’s face.
“It’s a pub crawl, not a fashion show. If you’re not done in the next thirty seconds, I’m leaving.”
✧✧✧
A tipsy Mikey stumbled into his bedroom in a drunkenly haphazardly manner, almost tripping over his own feet but managing to grab the edge of his dresser and steady himself just in time.
Figuring it’d be best if he took advantage of the equilibrium, he began undressing himself. You strolled into the bedroom shortly thereafter, significantly less drunk and with your hands outstretched and ready to catch your sloshed friend if need be.
Now free from the uncomfortable constraints of his skinny jeans and combat boots, Mikey looked around in search of his boxers and sleep shirt. He couldn’t find it in its usual place, prompting him to let out a groan of frustration.
“I can’t believe this,” he frowned, throwing his hands up. He lost his balance for a second, but you gripped his arm and helped him stand upright. “All of my clothes – all of them are just disappearing! Like what the fuck!”
Pursing your lips, you looked down at the t-shirt you had on – his t-shirt. It was a plain black one, which is probably why he hadn’t noticed that it was his, and it was one that you’d swiped from his closet months ago already.
Clearing your throat, you patted him on his back and gently led him to the bed. “C’mon, I’m sure we can find something else in here.”
You managed to pick out an old tee and shorts from one of the dresser drawers and helped him pull them on. A mere two minutes later, he was passed out on the bed.
✧✧✧
The next morning, you were preparing breakfast for you and Mikey; humming to yourself as you flipped pancakes. When the last one was out of the pan and on top of the stack, you wiped your hands on a dishcloth and started for the stairs.
From the bottom, you called out to Mikey. “Yo, Way! Food’s ready!”
You received no response from the bassist, prompting you to heave a heavy sigh and relunctantly trudge your way up the stairs and to his bedroom. Once you got there, you find him (once again) torso deep in his closet, clothes strewn all around him.
“Uh… whatcha doin’ there?”
Upon hearing your voice, he retracted his body and lifted his head to look at you. The poor guy looked distraught, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.
With a loud, exasperated exhale, Mikey explained. “My clothes – especially my shirts – keep going missing.”
Looking down at his Smashing Pumpkins tee you were wearing, you clicked your tongue. “Spooky,” you replied, widening your eyes.
“Wait a minute…”
Mikey wasn’t sure whether he was seeing things as a result of a mild hangover and too little sleep, so he shut his eyes and rubbed over them a couple times before checking to see if he was indeed seeing what he thought he was seeing.
And he was.
You were wearing his shirt.
“It was you!” he gasped, eyes the size of saucers as he jutted an acusatory finger in your direction.
“Well yeah, clearly,” you scoffed, placing your hands on your hips, “Took you long enough to figure it out.”
“But… why?”
Brushing it off with a shrug, you tugged at the tee and looked down at it. “Smells like you. It’s comforting.”
Mikey’s mouth fell into an ‘o’ at your revelation, but he quickly recovered and played it off with a joke. “Jeez, (Y/N). If you wanted to date me so bad, all you had to do was ask. No need to raid my closet.”
“Maybe this was my not-so-subtle way of telling you.”
Oh.
Oh.
He had most definitelynot been expecting that response. And his face showed it too.
Swallowing harshly to comfort your dry mouth, you looked down and shook your head awkwardly; his expression felt like a shot to your gut.
“But it’s cool if you don’t feel the same, obviously; like, I get-“
“Shut the fuck up.”
Snapping your head up, you frowned, preparing to rip him a new one for being so rude. You didn’t get that far, though, since his lips found yours in a super passionate kiss.
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” he pulled back with a smile, brushing your cheek affectionately as he gave you another short kiss, “In case it wasn’t obvious enough – I do feel the same.”
You breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing into his arms. “Thank God.”
“So… does this mean I can get my clothes back now?”
“Oh, Mikey,” you stroked his face, “They’re ourclothes now.”
_______________________________
Thank you for reading x
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
Prompt: 7. Late nights (bonus points if it’s pre-Grad Night or early relationship bc I’m sad and pathetic and it’s all I want 🥺)
it's been soooo long but i finally cranked this one out! i challenged myself by writing pre-grad night, and it was so much fun :-) i hope you love it! here's the ao3 link.
"What do you mean you've never seen The Princess Bride?" Patrick mock-glares at David, then turns to Stevie. "Did you know about this?"
Stevie shrugs, and the look on her face tells David that she cares less about the actual fact that he's never seen the movie than she does about bothering him to death. "I can't say it's ever come up, but I naturally assumed he had."
David leans against the counter, supporting himself on both hands as he lets his shoulders slump. It's nearly closing time, and this conversation is ridiculous, but he feels comfortable. The store has only been open for a little over a week, but the three of them have spent so much time in this space together that it feels natural, standing at the counter and getting harrassed by the two of them.
"David, you have to watch it. I can loan you my copy —" Patrick actually does seem invested in this, which David, God help him, finds endearing.
"There's no DVD player in my room," he says, engaging because Patrick's eyes are sparkling, and he's got his top two buttons undone, and no undershirt on, and when he gestures, the shirt gapes a little too wide, giving David a glimpse of collarbone.
And because Alexis and Stevie have hooked David on the idea that maybe Patrick might be…not totally straight. And not totally not into David. He's helpless to the maybe of it all.
Which is why, when Patrick says, "Well, Ray's not home tonight, why don't we have a little watch party?" David finds himself agreeing.
Stevie agrees too, when David shoots her a sharp glance, and if Patrick has any reaction to that, he doesn't show it. But Stevie is, despite all her and David's constant bickering and blustering, an excellent friend, and she understands without him having to say a word that watching a movie together, alone, on Ray's awful floral couch, lights off, probably a bottle of wine open…it would destroy him.
"Great," is all Patrick says. "I have a thing after we close, but you guys can come by at like eight? I'll make Jiffy Pop."
There it is. Already. The very idea of Patrick standing at the stove making popcorn the old-fashioned way is enough to make David want to bury his face in his hands and squeal. This is why he needs Stevie.
"You're my buffer," David explains to Stevie on the drive over. He's got two packs of brand-x licorice, because the single sad convenience store in Schitt's Creek actually can't afford to sell name brands, and a bottle of wine he pilfered from his mom's stash before they left.
"I don't think he's planning to sleep with you tonight," Stevie says mildly.
"My emotional buffer." He curls one leg up, putting his heel on the seat of Stevie's passenger seat. "Because I really like him, and I don't — if I'm left alone with him, like that, I'll definitely say something stupid and ruin our friendship, and then he'll pull out of our contracts and I'll run my business into the ground and be back to only having one friend."
Stevie snorts indelicately. "Who's saying I wouldn't take Patrick's side in the divorce?"
He ignores her, watching out the windshield as they pull into Ray's driveway.
Patrick greets them at the door and leads them to the kitchen to pour the wine; David stands at the counter and observes that Patrick actually has made Jiffy Pop. Something about it seems weirdly nostalgic to David, despite the fact that he himself had a professional popcorn machine growing up, and it makes him ache in a way he doesn't want to poke too closely. This is probably a relic of Patrick's growing up. David can almost picture tiny Patrick, standing on a chair to reach the stove and observing the foil rising into a ball for him.
While David has been lost to this thought, Patrick has found three stemless wine glasses and poured the wine. Stevie unearths a big bowl from the depths of Ray's cupboards for the popcorn, and together the three of them troop to the living room.
It's so much worse than David could have imagined.
There's just the couch — there's an armchair, but it's beside the TV rather than pointed at it, and there's nowhere to move it to. They'll have to share the couch, which has a horribly ugly, probably handmade and supremely cozy-looking afghan draped over it.
Stevie and Patrick claim the ends of the couch, leaving the middle for David, which is reasonable — they're both better friends with him than they are with each other, and it's the first time David has experienced that dynamic in his life — and a nightmare, because now he has to sit beside Patrick.
Patrick is unbothered, because it's normal to sit squished on a couch with someone you only consider a friend. Or because he's just completely unflappable; thus far, David has yet to see him express emotions outside of frustration, focus, and varying shades of amusement.
David plops between them, and his thigh grazes Patrick's. He tries to squish closer to Stevie, and she pushes him back.
"Are you uncomfortable?" Patrick turns toward David a bit, pushing the whole solid line of his thigh against David's. This was a mistake, this whole thing. David should have come up with an excuse not to come. A prior engagement. Dinner with his parents. A Sunrise Bay viewing party. A trans-continental flight.
David gives in when Patrick hands him the popcorn bowl, cradling it like a child and trying to ignore the line of nerves lit up where their legs are pressed together as Patrick queues up the movie.
David focuses on the screen studiously, like he'll be tested on it. Sips his wine, crunches his popcorn, lets the vaguely European fantasy hijinks onscreen take up as much real estate as they can in his mind. It's an easy movie to focus on, funny in a way that means he can see why it's such an icon. Romantic enough that David can't help but be a total sucker for it.
It's not until midway through that things get dire. Wallace Shaw has just laughed his last victorious laugh and keeled over, and Patrick nudges David, taking the mostly-empty popcorn bowl and setting it on the coffee table. He reaches back for the afghan and tugs it from behind their backs, and passes the end to Stevie, so that the three of them are snuggled beneath it, and David is the middle of the coziest little sandwich.
It's a nightmare. He glances at Patrick, who's watching the screen with a little smile, and then he looks back and turns that little smile on David, and David takes a deep breath and turns back to the screen.
It's fine. What's changed, really? That they're warmer now? They aren't cuddling, or anything. Although Patrick looks cuddly to the max in his little blue sweater. It's almost definitely synthetic and remarkably soft for the fact.
David sneaks a glance at Patrick out of the corner of his eye; he's so relaxed, so in his element. David feels like he's never seen Patrick out of his element. Is everything his element? David is struck with an urge — or maybe a quiet desperation — to find the borders of Patrick's comfort zone. To prove that they exist.
David's borders are everywhere. They're under this blanket and along the side of his thigh and at the bottom of his empty glass. His comfort zone is smaller than his body, and so everyone is always rubbing his edges.
But with Patrick, he instinctively minds less than with…a lot of other people. Surely that must mean something. Maybe not something cosmic, but…something.
It gets even worse.
David is focusing as studiously as he can on the movie, doing his best to ignore Patrick's thigh against his, his shoulder against his. Wesley is mostly dead, and David is caught up in the fantasy peril, he is, and then Patrick yawns, pressing his whole palm up to his mouth, and slumps and rests his head against David's bicep.
It's unacceptable. To be that casually touchy with a friend. A coworker. David wants to shove Patrick off and shout that there are rules about how to treat people you don't want to date. He wants to hold him close, wrap an arm around him and whisper and gamble on that…maybe he does.
Rather than doing either of those things, he turns his head slowly to glare at Stevie in total panic. She meets him with an excited little smile. "Yes," she whispers. "Love this for you."
"Don't rush me sonny," the healer guy onscreen says. "You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles." Like having an unrequited crush on the guy sleeping on you, David thinks sourly.
"Hmm?" Patrick lifts his head from David's arm to look at him and Stevie, and David immediately misses the warm weight.
"Nothing," David says too quickly. Patrick frowns, and he doesn't say anything but he supports his own head for the rest of the movie.
David knows he's in too deep now, because he wants to tug Patrick back to him. He wants to hold him, and this isn't — normal, for David, is what makes it horrible. He's not used to slowly growing to like people. He's not used to liking people, flat out. Attraction is something he can handle, the invisible line that draws two people together for a night or a week or a month, keeps them in the same bed until they find new beds to fall into.
But this? Getting to know someone, feeling warm in his gut when they smile at him? Wanting to know someone better, and wanting them at the same time? This is new. And to have these feelings for Patrick, who's so buttoned-up and straight-laced, nice and smart and clean? Even if sometimes David thinks…
Because you don't lean your head on someone's arm if you don't like them, right?
David loses the whole finale of the movie, trapped in his head with Patrick beside him, warm and soft and sleepy. Imagining things too far and then reeling himself back in — like what if after the movie, Stevie left, and David and Patrick put in another movie and fell asleep sweater-to-sweater on this couch? But no, stop, because Patrick…who knew if he felt even a spark of what David felt? He couldn't risk this, their friendship, their business…
"So, what did you think?" Patrick asks over the incredibly sappy song rolling in the credits.
"Mm," David says, trying to think of something to show he's been paying attention. "I normally am not a fantasy fan, but young Robin Wright is a gift." God, that makes him sound like he's into Robin Wright, what the fuck is wrong with him.
Patrick's invisible brows raise half a millimeter and his mouth curves with something akin to fondness as Stevie pokes David harshly in the shoulder, no doubt ribbing him for saying something so stupid. It's hard to care when Patrick's expression is making David feel hopeful that maybe, maybe what he feels between them is double-sided.
"That she is," Patrick says. He's alert enough, but he looks sleepy, his eyes ten percent warmer and wider than usual. David wonders what it would be like to have a night like this and then stay; to let Patrick nod off against his shoulder and not wake him.
"We should get going," he says instead.
Patrick follows David and Stevie to the door; Stevie is already halfway down the driveway, having said her goodbye, when Patrick puts a hand on David's elbow. "We should do this again sometime," he says. "I had fun."
For a second David lets himself imagine that this is the end of a date. That he could smile and pout and lean in and Patrick would lean too and they could kiss and hug, that David could leave feeling warmed up inside.
Just for a second. Because this isn't that. "Me too," he says, and despite the bite of just friends when he's so desperate for more, he means it. He'll take friendship with Patrick, movie nights and long days at work, anything he can get.
He turns and joins Stevie, and Patrick waves from the doorway as they back out. David rolls his eyes but he waves back, and it's strange — he does feel a little glow, as if they did have a date. He turns to Stevie, and she's smiling at him just a bit, just out of the corner of her mouth.
Don't rush it. Maybe, maybe, he thinks all the way home.
#im probably gonna go through this later and clean up the formatting a bit but i just wanted it posted!#storieswelove#david x patrick#fanfiction#long post#i never learned how to do read mores and im not abt to learn now
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Monster Match — Baptiste the Rougarou x F Human, SFW
Monster Match for @kwat01
.
.
You could see them, just ahead, at long last.
Normally, the sounds of squawks and chirps accompanied your work, leading the way as you followed with your camera, but not this assignment.
Not the cajun flamingos.
The colorful birds were nearly silent, making only the odd low grunt, none of the ebullient chatter you’ve come to expect in your years working for the nature magazine. The spoonbills were foraging in the brackish shallows of the swamp; white heads bobbing and weaving, searching out food in the murky water as the fan boat drifted.
It was a perfect evening–the air was thick and balmy, as you’d determined it always was, here in Terrebonne Parish, and the bayou was perfectly still. Overhead, the sky was awash with color as the sun slowly set, leaving a rosy, crimson flush to add to the backdrop of your photos, matching the brilliant plumage of your elusive subjects. An ancient live oak, draped in spanish moss, dipped her long branches into the water, and the only movement was that of the birds.
As you waited, the perfect shot presented itself: one of the birds reared up, flapping its wings, and two of its fellows followed suit in a brilliant display of color that you captured with a rapid series of clicks.
When you turned back with a beaming smile, Baptiste was watching you with one of his own.
He’d told you about bayou magic, and damned if he wasn’t right.
.
You’d arrived in Louisiana more than a week earlier, with little more than a duffel and your camera gear, used to traveling light and in a hurry. Your accent set you apart, as it did almost everywhere, but you discovered the only people making the same tired “shrimp on the barbie” and dingo jokes were tourists announcing how excited they were to be in Nawlins, walking around with beads around their necks and blinking souvenir cups from the Bourbon Street bars. Everyone else was too busy living their lives to pay you any mind.
The drive from New Orleans to Terrebonne Parish took less than an hour in your rented car, always an adventure in different countries, although finding a guide turned out to be slightly more challenging. The contact that had been set up through the magazine had bailed sometime during your transpacific flight, and the message from your office had been to “feel out the locals.”
Wildlife photography was easy peasy over here in the colonies, when compared to the hassles and dangers you’d encountered in parts of Africa and South America, but the few offices you’d dropped into seemed reluctant to take you on.
Roseate spoonbills, diamondback terrapins, and the ubiquitous alligators were your main focus for this trip, and you’d be back later in the season, to capture the critically endangered red wolf…but you had let it slip that you were very interested in another wolf you’d heard about; one that made the wild hogs cower and the gators keep to their swamps.
The stories had come to you during your initial research on the area, via online message boards: nested threads buried deep within innocuous conversations about the local fauna. A creature with claws like steak knives and teeth to match, one that prowled the bayou beneath the light of the full moon each month, leaving a trail of slaughtered hogs in its wake. The people on the message board seemed grateful for the beast, for the hogs were dangerous and a nuisance, and you were intrigued, having never heard of anything like the creature, nor the name they called it.
Rougarou
You had typed the unfamiliar word into your search bar enthusiastically, eager to find something potentially more interesting to search out and photograph…but the results yielded you nothing but legends; a cryptip, a monster creature of myth, a story taken from France to Nova Scotia and passed down from the Acadians as they resettled in the bayou. That doesn’t make any sense! You couldn’t believe that it was all a hoax, not when people seemed so sincere about the wolf-like creature. Maybe it’s just a red wolf, maybe some giant hybrid…
You’d mentioned your interest in finding this rougarou to the genial woman who ran the first tour operation you’d visited…had watched the smile freeze on her face and her eyes harden. It had hardly been a surprise when she announced just a few moments later that all of her guides were booked and she couldn’t help you. It had been a mistake you’d only made once, but evidently some sort of old-fashioned phone tree had been activated, for none of the local travel and tour outfits seemed particularly interested in giving you the time of day after that.
Except for Baptiste.
A fifth generation Acadiana cajun, as he proudly proclaimed, you’d found Baptiste in a small luncheonette in Houma, as you groused on the phone to your editor back in Melbourne. Or rather, you thought ruefully, he had found you.
‘I don’t know what to do, Ray! I’m telling you, there’s something bigger here than turtles. It’s a wolf as big as a man! How has no one heard of it, I don’t understand! But none of these people will talk to me. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to find the spoonbills as this point.”
“Excusez-moi, miss…I couldn’ help overhear that you’re in need of a guide? There’s no one in Terrebonne Parish tha’ knows the bayou half so well as me. Baptiste Thibodaux, for your service.”
He was tall and broad, with an unhurried way of moving, and the blazing afternoon sun had winked on his dark brown hair where he’d followed you to the sidewalk, bowing with a flourish of his hand. He had a languid smile and lovely hazel eyes, bright in his smooth, latte-colored face. You conceded that it was amazing luck for every other guide in the area to be refusing your call, leaving you stranded with this handsome stranger who professed to know the parish like the back of his hand.
You were immediately taken with him.
Over the course of the next several days you’d shot terrapins sunning on rocks, gators blinking thoughtfully from brackish shallows, and some slithering snakes you hadn’t even planned for, all in tucked away little corners and forgotten waterways. The spoonbills were a bit more elusive, at least, for what you were looking for. “Anyone can see one or two pecking for garbage in a drainage ditch on the side of the road,” you explained. “I want to see the flock.”
The time spent together was interesting and companionable, and you found yourself enjoying the time away from home far more than you had on any other assignment. You learned about life on the bayou and Cajun traditions, that his grandfather had been the one to teach him all of the hidden nooks and crannies when he was a boy.
“Save up your toys, boy. We’re gone fishin’,” he imitated as you laughed. “Ol’ Alexandre knew it all.”
Each day you pressed him for information about the mysterious rougarou, and each day he danced around your questions with a smile.
“Can’t say I’m friends with any wolfman out there in the swamps,” he’d chuckled the second day he’d taken you out, after you eagerly told him about the things you’d read and the creature you sought. “Sure you’re not thinkin’ of some red wolves?” You’d flapped your arms in frustration, and he’d laughed again. “There’s magic in the bayou, chèr…just gotta know where to find it.”
Everywhere you went, you questioned the locals, grilling busboys and mail clerks alike. As you’d experienced with the tour outfits, the townsfolk met your questions with uneasy evasiveness. If they’d laughed at you, had flat out called you crazy, you might have let it go. As it was, their shifty eyes and changed subjects let you know that you were on to something, and the whole town was in on the coverup.
“Why you interested in some ol’ wive’s tale anyway?” Baptiste asked with that slow smile, the sixth day he’d taken you out on his fan boat. “Come see, chèr.”
He smelled like pipe tobacco and worn leather, with a splash of bay rum, and the intoxicating trio made your stomach twist and bunch when you leaned in close to follow his outstretched finger.
He had been courtly and charming every day, and you’d lying to yourself if you pretended you weren’t wildly attracted to him. You’d made mention that afternoon at the small restaurant where you’d met for a late lunch before heading out for the evening that he would need to invoice his time so that you could forward it on to your Melbourne office, and he’d scoffed at your words with a wave of his hand.
“Saints alive, you’d best save the ink writin’ up that invoice. Showing a beautiful woman around my home is a pleasure, not a job, chèr.”
As you followed the sightline his long finger pointed out, your breath caught in your throat. There, snuffling at the base of a tree, was a red wolf. Few in numbers, rare to be spotted, and not seen in Terrebonne Parish in decades, but somehow Baptiste had known just where to go.
The wolf froze, spotting you bobbing in the water, but you continued to click as its hackles raised. Baptiste was silent beside you as gleaming fangs were bared.
A sudden breeze from the gulf lifted your hair, carrying your scent to the wolf on the rocks and the creatures beyond, further alerting them to your presence, when without warning, the red wolf lowered its head, whimpering. The sudden change in its demeanor caused you to whip around, expecting an even more dangerous predator slinking up behind you, but there was nothing there.
Nothing but Baptiste’s eyes, glowing like flames in the growing darkness.
Your breath had caught for the second time that evening.
Raising your camera once more, you took advantage of the solitary wolf, until it backed slowly into the brush, melting into the shadows.
“That was incredible,” you’d exclaimed that night, still bouncing giddily on the tips of your toes. It normally took weeks setting up a shot like that, yet you’d glided up to the bank easy as you please, taking the shots you needed. “Thank you so much, I can’t believe you knew just where to find him!”
You’d stood on the stoop of your rented room, gazing up at his wide, white smile, feeling a frisson of heat move through you. You should invite him in…the heady smell of leather and bay rum caught your nose once more as you stepped closer. He had a scar, you saw, cutting through his eyebrow from his hairline, running in an uneven line across his cheek to disappear into his dark hair once more, just above his ear. Baptiste grinned down, taking your in his own with a delicate touch. The feeling of his thumb running down your palm nearly turned you inside out, but before you could act of your desire to invite him in, your hand was raised to his mouth, his lips lightly gliding over your knuckles and released.
“Tomorrow we’ll be findin’ your spoonbills, chèr…then you’ll kick your feet up, Acadiana style.”
It wasn’t until later that you’d pondered on the unnatural luminescent glow of his eyes in the darkness.
Breakfast was at the little diner up the block the next morning, and when the waitress who’d been giving you the stink-eye all week ducked her head as you entered, you weren’t at all surprised. When the same waitress stopped by your table to refill the hot water for your tea, you’d raised an eyebrow.
“Have you talked with Adeline Boucher yet?” the woman hissed. “She’s the one who can tell you what you want to know.”
.
.
“I remember I was seventeen, “ the old woman sighed wistfully.
The Fair Oaks retirement community was where you finally tracked down Adeline Boucher, a silvery-hair octogenarian with a bevy of tales to tell. It had taken the better part of an hour to get her back on track with your line of questioning, but what she revealed had been exactly what you’d been trying to unearth since your plane had touched down.
Teeth and claws, long and sharp and lethal; a painful looking change beneath the bright, white moon, leaving a wolfish creature in the place of her sweetheart, on a night more than sixty years earlier.
“Alex was so handsome. Always a perfect gentleman, you know. We would have gotten married, if my parents hadn’t sent me away. Didn’t want me raisin’ any babies with the curse. I had a good life, and it’s too late for complaints…but Alexandre Thibodaux was my first love.”
.
.
The spoonbills continued to graze through the shallows, dozens of pink streaked wings and bobbing white heads, beneath the crimson-streaked sky.
It was perfect.
“We should head back, chèr,” he murmured, once you’d lowered the camera for the final time. “You don’t want to be missin’ your first fais do-do, do you now?”
The boat bobbed in the water, and you nodded. He was right—you did not want to miss your first fais do-do. “What if I stay?” He was close, close enough to feel the heat of his body and smell that intoxicating smell, but he still wasn’t nearly close enough. “What if I stay through the end of next week?”
His smile was a bit sadder, but he maintained eye contact as your hands drifted to his shoulders. “Well…I’m afraid I’ll be a bit indisposed form most of next week.”
You nodded, already having checked the date of the full moon. You’d been searching for what had been there all along, and now that you’d found it…it didn’t matter at all.
“I’ll be back then. To shoot the wolves, it’s already scheduled.” When he reminded you that you’d already captured one of the elusive wolves on film, you shrugged. “There are other wolves I’d like to get to know better.”
His lips were warm against yours, a hand at your waist and another in your hair, as you chased the giddy sense of anticipation that had cloaked your entire visit to Terrebonne Parish. You would be back, you’d be unable to stay away.
As your mouth moved against his, the spoonbills took wing. The silent air was rent by a hundred flapping wings, brilliant color taking to the sky, and you were unable to hold in your laughter, leaning against Baptiste’s warm side.
Bayou magic.
.
.
Monster Matches available on ko-fi!
#Exophilia#monster boyfriend#monster lover#rougarou#terato#monsterbait writes#monster match#monster matchmaker
163 notes
·
View notes
Text
John Galliano Turns Moviemaker for His Latest Maison Margiela Artisanal Collection
By Sarah Mower, 16 July 2020
“You’re going to come into my head without security! Mon dieu. Take care—it can be a dangerous place!”
John Galliano is laughing, half-joking, half-not, on a Zoom call about the huge leap he’s taken into moviemaking. If you can call it a ‘movie’ — the term doesn’t hold when the piece of work he’s produced for Maison Margiela is a documentary, a narrative, an interactive provocation, and a real, raw, fantastical thing, all at the same time.
Residents of the Paris quartier which houses Maison Margiela would recently have been astonished to see a drone circling the local St. Joseph’s church, and then disappearing into the open window of the building opposite. It was there to hover over Galliano and his white-coated team at work in the studio—just one fraction of the epic collage of recordings of the Artisanal collection, released today.
Whatever damage the pandemic has wreaked on the fashion industry, the upsurge in mold-breaking imagination in depicting clothes, thought, conversations, and humanity is swiftly bringing about a revolution. “I very quickly realized that fashion, and the way we had created and presented it, would never be the same again,” Galliano says. “It can’t be until some kind of vaccine is found. And as soon as I accepted this reality, I was able to embrace the idea that something new could happen, that we could innovate, be resourceful, and that fired me up again. Nothing’s going to stand in the way of the creative process—I refuse to let that happen!”
Psychologically, Galliano essentially flipped the behind-closed-doors mentality that has been his own safety zone—and the anonymity code at Maison Margiela for years. Instead, he decided that he’d show every step of the making of the collection, in extreme detail, only with some extra-special twists in the storytelling. “I thought, ‘I’m going to be completely transparent about this, now.’ I’d always feared being in front of the camera [and] all those things you do when you know the camera’s on you, but I decided that I’m ready. So I approached [British photographer] Nick Knight, whom I trust and love.”
The upshot was two months of documenting every move made by Galliano and his team in just about every possible format. “I wanted to portray the process… a voyeuristic method, almost. So Nick’s been filming me remotely. There’ve been drones flying around us, coming in and out of my conversations. I’ve been wearing GoPros, one on my head, one on my chest.” Knight accumulated Zoom calls, text messages, FaceTime calls, used thermal-camera imaging, AI, and even an X-ray app—everything that could capture the detail and texture of working both by hand and remotely was captured.
“It’s been a whole new, exhilarating process,” Galliano exclaims. Some of the technology has fed back into the collection. “It’s informed how I’ve allocated fabrics for some of the dresses—that’s been a very creative way of working. But of course, some of the sequences are real time, real dresses, because I think today we want to see real, too. I asked my kids to start filming themselves on iPads at the beginning of the pandemic. They were expressing 3D experiments in cutting on their kitchen tables, on their terraces, in their garages. So really that’s how it started.”
This is John Galliano-the-storyteller, though: There had to be something else going on, too. “I wanted to bring in a double narrative,” he muses. “So there’s the story of the collection, but it’s set within a thriller. Why? Because I rather like the genre of horror and thrillers, and how they’re put together. And because for me, it represents the thrill of creation, research, and discovery.”
The second part of the production was shot in the Cotswolds in England, in a mimicking of the start-to-finish timeline of the design-to-fashion shoot. Under British lockdown safety rules, it was an intense bonding experience. “We had to combine as a group on set—live together, dine together, sleep there in the same place. Then—I can’t explain this—magic happened. My muses became vessels for some kind of power, and I don’t know where it was coming from. Here they were, living it: my clan, my tribe, six of them. I wanted them to connect. When you see them in movement and they express 100% what they’re wearing—there were some moments when I had to excuse myself from the set, because of some of the readings there. I found it so moving, I had to actually walk away.”
All those preconceived notions about the lack of feeling in digital representations of fashion? Galliano now dismisses them as old thinking. “The filming is intellectually stimulating and emotionally stimulating. So many people constantly say, ‘How are you going to get the emotion on digital?’ Well, I felt that it was palpable.” What he’s come out with, he says, is “a blueprint” for a way forward which can be used “to activate different dialogues—and show Gens Y and Z exactly how we do things. How we’ve created our own fabrics, whether it’s from the interlinings, created sandwiches of fabric, our own versions of embroidery in-house—how we’ve become resourceful.”
Source: Vogue.com
#Maison Margiela#Margiela#Maison Margiela by John Galliano#John Galliano#Galliano#Maison Margiela Artisanal by John Galliano#SHOWstudio#Nick Knight#fashion#fashion presentation#haute couture#couture aw20#style#pfw#paris fashion week#paris couture week
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic: Movement
Building on:
‘Earthquake’
‘Night out’
‘An old buddy’
Word count: 2226
*Another few months later*
“Now, Mr. Luca…” the doctor smiled, “Are you ready to get this cast off for good?”
Luca took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Sure.”
“You’re going to have to wear a brace until after the knee surgery we have planned.” the doctor informed as he prepared the gear to remove the cast.
“Are you sure it’s okay to drop the cast?” Luca hated how shaky his voice felt, “My leg was crushed.”
The doctor nodded, “The X-rays, and the CatScan show that all the breaks have fused. If it wasn’t for your knee, I would’ve set you up with a physical therapist to teach you to walk again.”
Luca nodded, “I can barely believe that I’ve come this far already…”
The doctor nodded, “Starting to look like keeping your leg was the correct choice.”
“It was a bad injury…”
“Sure was.” the doctor nodded, “Any one of the injury types you got could have been indicators to amputate your leg. If that rotary dislocation your knee suffered had torn your popliteal artery, or pressed against it and not been reset in timely fashion, that would not have made your leg viable. The fractures you suffered were extensive enough to question if it would heal, even with surgery… And on top of that, we have the crush injury which wreaked havoc on your muscles and soft tissues, causing compartment syndrome and might have killed off your muscle tissue.”
Luca swallowed hard.
“You got lucky.” the doctor smiled.
“Yeah, I really did.” Luca nodded, “So… When I have surgery to reconstruct my knee… What will that mean.”
“Oh…” The doctor nodded as he picked up the cast scissors, “Dislocating your knee, you tore your anterior and posterior cruciate ligaments. That’s the bands inside your knee which keeps the shin bone from sliding back and forward relative to the femur, -the bone in your thigh.”
Luca nodded.
“On top of that, you tore your medial and lateral collateral ligaments. That’s bands on either side of your knee. Those stabilize your knee sideways. With all four of those bands torn, your knee depends on the muscles in your leg to keep it somewhat stabile.”
Luca nodded.
“Now, some top level athletes tear some of these bands every now and then. Take hockey players for instance, they usually have so much strength in their legs that surgery won’t be necessary. -Of course with some exceptions.” The doctor explained, “You on the other hand…”
“I don’t have any muscles left in that leg…” Luca nodded.
“Well, most of the muscles are still there, but they’re not what they used to be. They won’t be able to keep your knee from dislocating in either the same way as it did, or in more typical ways.”
“Well, we don’t want that…” Luca frowned.
“No, we don’t.” the doctor nodded, “You also injured your menisci… Both of them in that leg. Small tears will heal on its own over time, but unfortunately you have a complete buckethandle tear of one of them and one that’s slightly smaller in the other one. Those might lock your knee up if you were to use your leg. Now, your knee locking up from a buckethandle meniscus tear isn’t exatctly dangerous in any normal way, but I have it on good authority that it’s incredibly painful.”
Luca grimaced, “Yeah, don’t want that either.”
The doctor nodded, “So what we’re going to do is clean up the torn ligaments, and smaller nicks in your menisci. Then we’re going to use grafts from either your hamstring muscles in the opposite leg, or donor grafts, as your new ligaments. And we’ll be sewing the big tears of your menisci.”
“Donor grafts?”
“Yeah. Sometimes your own tissue won’t be right for your knee. Either because you’ve lost too much mass from where the graft would be taken, and to cut out a decent graft would leave you with a deficit in the healthy leg. Or because the site of the graft has some injury that would make the graft likely to fail. For example, we often use patella tendon grafts to fix ligament tears in the knees. Your left patella tendon wouldn’t be suited for that since we had to reattach about half of that tendon after the earthquake.”
Luca nodded for a bit, but had one more question for the doctor before he got as far as to start cutting up the cast.
“How much pain will I be in after the knee surgery? Don’t sugarcoat it.”
The doctor looked up from where he had placed one hand on Luca’s cast, “That’s not an easy question to answer. Grafts from your own body will hurt where they’re taken from. Think of it as having a partial tear in a muscle. It’s about the same pain. I know you’ve had that before.”
Luca nodded, “Yeah, tore some of my bicep tendon or muscle once. My whole arm was painful and bruised after that.”
The doctor nodded, “With donor grafts you won’t have that, but grafts from your own body is preferred in most cases. Less chance of graft failure.”
Luca nodded.
“The reconstruction itself varies a lot. I have some patients who experience minimal pain and swelling, and I have patients who experiences a lot of both as well.” The doctor shrugged, “Some never really need the aid of crutches after the ligament surgeries, and some will need it for a couple of weeks after. But you’re going to have to use crutches for a month afterwards anyway, since we have to sew up your menisci as well.”
Luca nodded. “Okay, and does that hurt?”
“Most patients feel fine after that surgery, in my experience.” The doctor winked, “Slight swelling might occur, but not usually accompanied by pain.”
Luca nodded.
“Now, I’m going to start clipping up your cast. Any more questions before I start?”
Luca shook his head.
SWATSWATSWAT
The best way to describe his leg when it was finally de-casted was skin and bones. -And scars. But then again, he hadn’t used any of the muscles in it for months now.
“The scars look good now…” the doctor offered up a satisfied smile, “Even where you ended up having that infection early on…”
Luca nodded, “It’s still a bit redder than the others, though.”
“Yeah, but you can think of it like this, it started healing a lot later than the other scars.”
Luca nodded.
“Can you try moving your ankle for me?” the doctor guided the conversation, showing with his hands how he wanted Luca to move his foot.
“Just go ahead and try?”
The doctor nodded.
Luca tried, but it was like the wrong muscles responded when he tried, and it didn’t work out so well in the first place either. “I can’t…”
“Let me try this one thing first, before you start worrying.”
Luca nodded.
“I’m going to grab your foot and above your ankle and manipulate it a bit. Just let me know if anything’s painful.”
Luca nodded again, and the doctor took hold of his leg.
“That feels weird.” Luca said as soon as he felt the doctor’s hands on his foot.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, just feels weird.” Luca shrugged.
“Okay, I’m going to slowly start moving your foot up and down a few times, that will probably feel really weird as well.”
Luca nodded.
“Just let me know when I need to stop.”
“Sure thing.” Luca nodded.
SWATSWATSWAT
The doctor was right, it did feel really weird. His ankle had been locked in one position ever since the injury.
The doctor moved his ankle like he was making Luca speed and slow down a car, without using the breaks. He made the motions smooth and paused at each turn.
It felt like he was gradually making the movement bigger, but Luca couldn’t exactly be sure without looking.
“Ah, stop, stop!” Luca winced on one of the turns as the doctor pressed his toes up.
The doctor backed up the movement a bit, “That hurt?”
“Stretched my calf like crazy…” Luca cleared his voice, “Can you go back there again? I just wasn’t prepared…”
“Sure…” the doctor nodded and eased back to the position which had made Luca squirm, “Want me to hold it in this position for a bit?”
Luca thought, then nodded.
After about fifteen seconds the doctor started pressing Luca’s foot back down to a position he felt like Luca could handle, “Now, if you try to move your foot with me, it might be easier for you to connect with the correct muscles when you’re going to try it yourself the next time.”
Luca nodded, and tried.
The doctor chuckled once, “Now, try to relax your thigh. That’s not the right muscle groups. Neither is your seat.”
Luca laughed, “it’s really hard.”
“That’s alright. It is to be expected.” The doctor reassured. “You haven’t moved your ankle in about five-six months, and with all the damage from the injury… It’ll be exactly like learning to move from scratch.”
Luca nodded.
“There, you’re doing great!” the doctor grinned, “Can you feel that you’re using the right muscles now?”
Luca grinned, “Yeah, yeah I think so…”
“I’m going to let go of your foot, try to keep moving it just like we’re doing now…”
Luca nodded, and continued the motion when he felt the doctor let go.
The doctor watched for a few rounds, an amused look on his face. “Well, I’ll be damned…”
Luca paused, “What?”
“You’re impressing me…” the doctor grinned, “Usually I would expect that anyone who had a similar injury to the one you’ve had, would develop drop foot. That they would be unable to lift the front of their foot properly, or raise their toes… You’re actually leading with your toes when you raise your foot. I did not expect that.”
“So, good thing?”
“Great thing.” The doctor nodded, “Now, over to the next exercise… Can you try to move your foot sideways like this…”
The doctor explained the movement by showing it with his hands once more.
“Can you make my stupid muscles understand which of them is supposed to work first?”
“Sure thing…” the doctor nodded and carefully grabbed Luca’s foot, “We’ll start rotating it inward a bit.”
Luca nodded, but yelped when the doctor gently rotated his food a few small degrees.
“I’m sorry, that sounded like it hurt…” the doctor apologized, “Can you tell me where?”
“That stabbed at my knee…”Luca answered, trying to ride out a grimace.
“Okay, like through the joint? From the side in some kind of way?”
Luca nodded, “Just like that…”
“Inside or outside of your knee?”
“Mostly inside.”
“That’s probably your medial meniscus disagreeing with the movement. We’ll skip inward rotation for now.”
Luca nodded.
“Let’s try rotating it the other way.”
Luca nodded again.
The sharp inhale Luca did caused the doctor to stop, “Sorry. That hurts as well?”
“Not as much, but it’s not good…” Luca nodded.
“Same spot?”
“Yeah, not as much… But the back outside of my knee doesn’t like that motion.” Luca shrugged once the doctor had helped his foot back in a normal position. “Not as painful as the other way, but… Still painful.”
The doctor nodded, “Okay, we’ll just wait with rotation until after your knee surgery. Since it’s causing you this much pain.”
Luca nodded.
“Does it hurt anywhere else than your knee when we tried rotating your foot?”
Luca shook his head, “No, didn’t hurt anywhere else. Tingled a bit above where some of your fingers were, but not anything I can call painful.”
“Alright, that’s good.” The doctor smiled, “Then that problem will likely solve itself once we’ve taken care of your menisci…”
“Cool…” Luca grinned.
“Now, try to just relax here while I go grab the brace you’ll be wearing.” The doctor instructed, “I don’t think you’ll need a drop foot brace, but I’ll bring one anyway. Justin case you overwork your leg and it gets too sore to keep your foot neutral.”
Luca nodded, and started gently moving his foot up and down once more.
“That’s great.” The doctor grinned, “And I want you to keep working on that, the goal is to eventually get the same range of motion as in your healthy leg. -But I also don’t want you to start out too hard. You’ll be sore from basically doing nothing now at the start. So don’t over-do it too much, alright?”
Luca nodded, “I’ll try.”
The doctor nodded and went out the door.
SWATSWATSWAT
“Look at you…” Street grinned as Luca came hobbling towards where he sat and waited, “How does it feel?”
“A lot lighter…”Luca chuckled, “Feels a bit odd.”
“Did the doctor say anything?”
“That it was looking good.” Luca beamed, “And that everything was ready for the knee surgery.”
“That’s awesome.”
Luca nodded, “Hey, we should invite the team over tomorrow night.”
“You up for that?”
Luca rolled his eyes a little, “I’ve been out with you guys like four-five times since my injury. I can take a party at home by now.”
“Just messing with you…” Street grinned, “I say we order a few pizzas to go along with it.”
“Deal!” Luca grinned, “Now don’t tell too much about my leg to the team if they ask this afternoon or on tomorrow’s shift.”
“I’ll try.”
#dominic luca#Dominique Luca#Luca#swat#s.w.a.t#swat fanfiction#hurt#hurtcomfort#cast#injury#jim street#Street
13 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Smoke and Mirrors
Chapter 6: Dean I - I Should Have Just Gone To Eton (link to full story on FF.net)
Featuring: Dean Thomas, Justin Finch-Fletchley
Word Count: 4K words
Dean looked around desperately at the various signs signalling all of the different departure gates as he walked through the main entrance.
Gatwick Airport was an absolutely massive place and he’d never been to an airport by himself before, so he was finding it very difficult to navigate.
It was all a lot easier travelling internationally by portkey, but that was too risky – at least this way there would be no trace of him.
Professor McGonagall had sat down with each and every muggle-born student before the end of the last year and explained the likelihood of what was to happen.
Dumbledore was dead, which meant it would not be long before You Know Who moved against The Ministry – and who knew what might happen to the muggle-born population of Wizarding Britain. She had taken the bold decision to wipe the records of every single muggle-born student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so that they would be protected as best they could be if You Know Who and his followers were to purge or take control of the school over the summer. It was almost as if she knew something they didn’t.
Dean had been one of the most outspoken students in the initial meeting with his Head of House. He had been adamant that he wasn’t going anywhere and would return to school. He wasn’t a coward. He was a Gryffindor!
But he had read and heard of terrible things happening over the summer. The Daily Prophet was ramping up disdain for muggle-borns – and whilst watching and reading the muggle-news there were many events that were very evidently influenced by dark wizards and Death Eaters, even if the muggles themselves were blissfully unaware of that fact.
It was his Mum who had made the decision for him in the end. At first she had been very strong-willed and stubborn that he was to go. This tactic didn’t work on him, but when she started crying and guilt-tripping him instead he quickly relented.
He couldn’t let her down so he agreed to go and live with his step-sister in America until it had all blown-over, although deep down he knew it would only get worse – and soon Wizarding Britain would be in open war with You Know Who and his army of Death Eaters, Dementors and worse. He just wished he could have done his bit and been part of it.
It hadn’t been too much hassle to sort out his departure. He’d had to get a passport and a VISA, but that was no bother really. Bruce had managed to do most of it for him. Bayley was based in Los Angeles for work and had a spare room in her apartment, so he would go and live with her and see what happened. She said she would be able to get him a job and he was reasonably excited about the move. At the very least it would be a nice new start.
The check-in process at the airport had been simple enough. Dean had only taken a small carry on-bag so he didn’t have anything for the hold.
He put his suitcase onto the security conveyor belt to go through the X-Ray, then as it slowly made its way in, Dean wondered what the border officer was seeing on the reading on his screen. That small suitcase he’d picked up from Wiseacre’s in Diagon Alley had about two full 15KG hold bags worth of stuff in it. It was a real test of magic vs muggle technology.
Who would win in this battle of airport security scanners and undetectable extension charms?
It seemed that the wizards had taken the victory as the stern staff of the airport barely raised an eyebrow when his bag went through. The metal detector failed to go off when he walked through it with his wand in his jacket pocket. Of course his wand was made from cedar and the heartstring of a Ukrainian Ironbelly dragon, so it shouldn’t have gone off anyway, but that didn’t dispel his nerves when he walked through it.
He had to remind himself that it was, after all, a metal detector, not a magic detector – and even if the airport staff had have found his wand, they would’ve just thought he was just an oddball that was carrying some weird kind of stick.
Dean retrieved his bag from its tray and after putting it with the other collection of discarded trays he strolled through to the departure lounge.
There was still at least an hour before he would be able to board the long-haul flight, so to kill some time he thought he would wander through Duty Free. He soon regretted that choice though.
As soon as he walked in he was flanked by massive posters and cardboard cut outs of the muggle band Oasis. It all seemed to be advertising a new album being released called ‘Be Here Now’ and the poster showed what looked like a massive country house, with the members of the band dotting around outside standing in-front of a moped, whilst a white car was sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool.
Dean never had much time for Brit-pop bands like Oasis, Blur or The Stone Roses. His best friend, Seamus, was very much a fan though and often loved blasting their songs in their Gryffindor dormitory. He could just about make out the lyrics of what must’ve been a new single.
A cold and frosty morning there’s not a lot to say,
About the things caught in my mind,
As the day was dawning my plane flew away,
With all the things caught in my mind,
And I want to be there when you’re
Coming down,
And I want to be there when you hit the ground,
So don’t go away, say what you say,
But say that you’ll stay,
If the racket of the music wasn’t enough of an annoyance - the one thing that Dean hated most about muggle shops was the staff’s tendency to constantly badger you. Within a minute of browsing the aftershave section he had been harassed by four different people trying to shove samples in his face.
There was Armani, Versace, then Dior and Issey Miyake and Hugo Boss too. He was sure there was one that he would’ve really liked, but having test strips shoved in his face every time he tried to look had put him off going anywhere near them.
A pretty young red-headed girl advertising the latest Chanel release stopped him in his tracks though. She had piercing brown eyes, just like Ginny’s. The girl blushed slightly when she noticed that he was staring at her – he snapped himself out of it, feeling quite embarrassed.
He’d moved on from Ginny now.
Well, mostly.
He held no real ill-will to her or Harry, but he was quite disappointed at how it had all worked out. He thought everything had been going pretty swimmingly with her and he didn’t really know why they’d argued as much as they did by the end of it.
Dean had always tried to do right by her. He’d hold doors open for her, stand-up for her if anyone ever spoke out of line to her in-front of him and always insist on paying on every date they went on. She had called it controlling and patronising, but he was just trying to be nice and he knew that she didn’t have a lot of money so he didn’t like letting her split the bill like she would often suggest.
During one particularly-heated row she’d told him that she wasn’t a damsel in distress that needed saving, yet on numerous occasions she’d spoken in awe of how Harry had saved her in the Chamber of Secrets. Dean had pointed this out to her, which to put it lightly, had not gone down too well.
One of the last straws of their relationship had been when Cormac McLaggen inadvertently fractured Harry’s skull by hitting him with a bludger by accident. Dean hadn’t quite realised how serious the injury had been at first and he’d had to laugh at Cormac’s gross incompetence – as he’d flown past Ginny he’d made a joke about how You Know Who had spent years trying to kill Harry, yet after all that Cormac McLaggen might beat him to it if he wasn’t careful.
Ginny hadn’t seen the funny side, yet even Ron and Harry himself had cracked a laugh when he’d mentioned what he’d said later in their dormitory. It didn’t matter what Ginny thought now though. He might well never see her or any of the others again.
Perhaps it was for the best.
It took great effort but as he made his way through the store he managed to duck and dive out of the way of a man trying to sell him a ginormous toblerone, then dodged another trying to sell him a bottle of ludicrously expensive vodka. Dean couldn’t have even bought it if he had wanted to, as whilst he was considered of age by wizarding standards at 17 – it would still be a few months before he reached the legal age to drink in the UK as a muggle.
As he escaped Duty Free he saw a big stack of newspapers on a side-wall. The headlines all read ‘BROWN BLOWS BILLIONS ON BENEFITS AS LABOUR ANNOUNCE FIRST BUDGET’ and with it there was a still picture of a white man in a suit, with dark hair, who Dean guessed was in his mid to late forties, who was addressing a collection of journalists whilst standing in-front of a red banner that read ‘NEW LABOUR - NEW LIFE FOR BRITAIN’.
Dean didn’t care much for muggle politics. He turned the newspaper over to see what was on the back-page.
‘INTER MILAN BREAK TRANSFER RECORD TO LAND SAMBA STAR RONALDO’
That was more like it. Dean pulled up a seat nearby, then eagerly read the article which described in detail how the Italian super club had spent an incredible 19.5 million pounds to buy the brilliant Brazilian from Barcelona.
He lowered the newspaper from his eye line slightly to check the departure board and see if his flight was boarding yet.
“Oh, I sayyy…surely it can’t be…Dean Thomas?”
Dean didn’t immediately recognize the very ostentatious voice addressing him, but then he saw for his own eyes someone he’d shared the Hogwarts castle with for the best part of six years.
“Alright Justin, mate?”
“Dean! My goodness. It is you! What a surprise to see you here! I almost didn’t recognize you there for a second.”
Justin Finch-Fletchey had briefly broken away from who Dean assumed must be his parents. A very prim and proper white man, with old-fashioned spectacles and greased back hair, who Dean guessed was probably around forty-five and Justin’s father, followed his son but looked a bit hesitant.
“A friend of yours, Justin?” he asked, squinting curiously at Dean.
“Yes, Father. From school. You must excuse me for a moment. We have much to discuss,” Justin replied confidently, yet still very politely.
“Yes. Yes. Of course. Don’t forget though, Justin… first class boards first so we mustn’t dither too long.”
And with that his Father headed back towards his Mother and they headed to what looked like the Ralph Lauren boutique store.
“So… you’re upping sticks too, huh? Always knew you were a smart man,” Justin said in a slightly condescending, yet very light-hearted manner, patting Dean on the shoulder slightly as he winked.
“Yeah, well… I thought it was best to be on the safe side. Nobody knows what will happen if You Know Who does kick off a war. And with Dumbledore gone, well, not even Hogwarts is safe anymore so-
“Hogwarts was never bloody safe anyway! Especially for us. I was nearly killed by a murderous snake for Christ’s sake. If it hadn’t been for that irritating ghost I would have been,” Justin scoffed, quite understandably still annoyed at his petrification in their second year.
Dean had dodged a bullet that year to be fair. The basilisk had made short work of many muggle-borns in the school, even several in his own year, but he’d somehow managed to avoid the potentially lethal glare of the giant serpent, more through luck than any kind of skill or planning.
“I wouldn’t have minded it that much,” Justin began. Dean knew that some kind of rant was coming.
“But that old fool Dumbledore didn’t even have the humility or self-respect to go to the Ministry of Magic for help. He was too concerned about the school’s reputation that he left several students petrified indefinitely. You can’t tell me that St Mungo’s couldn’t have cooked up a remedy within a few days? It was farcical! Never would have happened if it had been going after the purebloods. It beggars belief that a society can have such a ridiculous order based entirely on social class.”
“Yeah, terrible…” Dean managed to mutter out.
He’d never spoken to Justin that much particularly, perhaps that had been a good decision as he seemed to have all the self-awareness of a goldfish.
Dean thought it best to try and change the subject. He had never been particularly close to Albus Dumbledore, but he wasn’t exactly going to stand here and let Justin shit-talk a dead man he had at least held a lot of respect for. It did also seem a bit rich for him to be criticising their former Headmaster, when Justin himself had been a member of a group named Dumbledore’s Army for several years.
“So where are you heading then?” he asked neutrally.
“We’re flying out to Los Angeles. Father has got a transfer at work to the San Francisco office, so we’ll be based there for now. I might also shadow my Uncle if I get the chance. He works with the Foreign Office in Washington. He’s quite high up, you know,” Justin said very proudly, perhaps not all that aware of how he could be misconstrued as boasting.
“Oh that’s cool,” Dean said, doing his best to sound as interested as he could.
“How about you, lad? You heading to The States as well?” Justin enquired.
“Yeah, Los Angeles too,” he replied, trying to play down the fact that they were probably going to be leaving on the same plane. It really was a small world after all.
“Ohhh snap,” Justin said, presumably thinking he sounded quite cool, but in his posh-voice he actually sounded as far from cool as it was humanly possible to be.
“Yeah ha-ha… my sister lives out near Santa Monica so I’m going to go and live with her,” he added half-heartedly.
“Santa Monica, ehh? Right near Bel-Air? Why, you’ll be just like that coloured chap in The Fresh Prince!” Justin chided, positively under the impression that he’d just cracked the funniest joke anyone had ever heard. Dean didn’t really see the funny side, but chose to ignore the slightly offensive gag.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, doing his best to muster an awkward laugh and hide his annoyed demeanour.
“I’ll be a little sad to leave, you know. I won’t miss Hogwarts that much, nor the magic. No…I fear that was all a big waste of time now. I should have just gone to Eton like Father had planned. But it will be a shame to leave Oxford. We’ve got a really lovely house there. Of course, we won’t be downsizing in San Francisco, no if anything quite the opposite with house prices over there, but well, you can’t beat home. Where was your parent’s house?”
“Surrey,” Dean said quickly, which wasn’t technically a lie. Surrey was where people from Croydon told people they lived when they wanted it to sound fancier. If they wanted it to sound a bit cooler than they’d say they were from London, although anyone who lived in ‘proper’ London would fiercely argue that Croydon wasn’t really London at all.
“Lived there with my Mum and step-dad as long as I can remember. It’s a shame to have to leave them, but I guess it’s for the best.”
Dean didn’t fail to notice Justin’s slightly raised eyebrow when he’d said that he had a step-dad. He didn’t care what Justin thought of him though.
“Hmm, yes. Not to worry though, Deano. It’s a good time to be leaving Britain anyway really… with Labour back in power the country will soon be bankrupt anyway. It’s a disgrace how much they’re going to spend on welfare. Bloody lefties. You know, it’s actually the wizard’s fault that they got in anyway.”
“You think?” Dean asked in bewilderment.
He knew enough about Wizards to know that they didn’t care in the slightest about muggle politics, let alone know or care enough to actively influence who the Prime Minister was.
“Well yes, it’s obvious really, isn’t it? The Conservatives had no chance of winning the election given everything that’s happened in the last few years. They had enough on their hands with the bloody Irish, but look at all the extra problems they had from the wizards. Mass murderers on the loose. A government funded bridge collapsing unexpectedly. Those bloody Dementors roaming the country making everybody miserable. Poor old John Major never stood a chance! Of course there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t exactly come out and tell everyone that it was actually the incompetence of the wizarding government causing all of it.”
Dean wondered what would have happened if a British Prime Minister had gone on TV and announced to the public that wizards were behind all of the country’s problems. He guessed it would make a change from them blaming all of the foreigners and unemployed people.
“With any luck they’ll all wipe each other out if there is a war,” Justin scorned.
Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You don’t mean-
Justin reacted quickly to Dean’s incredulous response.
“Of course I don’t mean everyone at school. I mean you know, The Death Eaters and the Ministry forces. Almost as bad as each other if you ask me. Everyone else is far too young to be getting involved in a bloody war. Michael and Terry are both adamant they’re going to fight in any battle that they can,” Justin said as if it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.
Dean had never been that fond of Michael Corner. It was nothing he had done personally, but he’d been Ginny’s ex-boyfriend, so Dean had to hate him on principle. He was emboldened by Michael and Terry Boot’s courage to fight though.
“I had a lot of fun at all of those DA meetings of course,” Justin mumbled.
“It was good to learn more spells from Potter and his friends for self-defence. But that night the Death Eaters raided the school and Professor Snape killed Dumbledore, well. That was it for me. It’s one thing training up for it and all, but I’m not willing to put my neck on the line to stay a part of the magical word. If everyone else wants to throw their life away, well more fool them. Some would call it bravery, but I say it’s just naivety. We’re not even 18, Dean. The days of teenagers being needlessly slain in pointless wars should be left behind in the 1940’s. We’ve made the right choice, pal,” he said solemnly, once again patting Dean on the shoulder.
It was at that moment that Dean suddenly began to question whether he had in-fact made the correct choice.
“You know, Zacharias Smith was even trying to recruit me for some kind of secret resistance movement his uncle is involved in,” he scoffed. “Told me to keep it all very quiet of course, but well, I suppose given the circumstances telling you won’t do any harm, will it?”
“Resistance movement?” Dean asked curiously. He hadn’t been asked to join any resistance movement.
“Yes. His Uncle is an Auror, isn’t he? On quite good terms with that Mad-Eye Moody fellow. He said they’re setting up a top secret resistance movement, recruiting some muggle-borns for some highly classified unofficial operation if You Know Who gets in power. Sounded like a bloody suicide mission to me. Well, as you can imagine, I practically laughed in his face at the idea. What sort of braindead moron would sign up for that?” he scorned.
“Yeah. Right…” Dean replied, but his head with racing with ideas. This was it. He’d wanted to stay and fight, but it wasn’t as if the Wizarding world had an army you could just sign up to when you were 17 like the muggles did. But if this resistance movement had been interested in recruiting Justin, then they’d surely take Dean too.
Dean looked past his old class-mate and saw that Justin’s parents were heading out of the boutique shop with several bags of clothes that they must’ve bought in there for some serious money.
“Ah, well, I suppose I best be off,” Justin murmured, having noticed this development himself.
“I’ll be sure to pop down from first class and come and see you during the flight,” the youngest member of the Finch-Fletchley clan said elegantly, as he reached out to shake Dean’s hand.
“Can’t wait, mate,” Dean replied, trying his best to sound as enthusiastic as possible. Justin’s handshake was almost like a metaphor for his whole character, half-hearted and weak.
“See you in a bit,” Justin said as a parting comment, which Dean mumbled a polite agreement too, although if Dean was honest he would’ve been pretty happy if he’d have never seen him again for the rest of his life.
As it would happen, Dean never boarded that flight bound for Los Angeles – and it would be four years before Dean, or anyone else in the Wizarding world would see or hear from Justin Finch-Fletchley again.
#hp fanfic#hpfanfiction#hp#hpff#hpf#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#harrypotter#dean thomas#deanthomas#gryffindor#justin finch fletchley#hufflepuff#fanfic#fanfiction
2 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
caffeineculinary
Caffeine & Culinary
wakeupgetupstealhearts
baby baby baby baby baby
avocadoooo
willow
murrati69
No Pain No Gain
alex-and-piper
Alex Vause & Piper Chapman