#sorry for any mistakes i wrote this whole thing today somehow so there might be some at the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crowned-ladybug · 7 years

Text

Something Just Like This

Aka five times Jackie and Marvin refused each other’s help and the one time they didn’t.

Oh look, I finally wrote it. This has been in the plans since like four fics ago. Title has no relevance aside from the fact that the song makes me think of Jackie. Also, “Superman” by Five For Fighting came on my playlist while writing the fourth part and I can definitely recommend it for some extra feels.

Hey @magic-marvin-protection-patrol may I offer some stories about these two in these tiring times?

Dedicated to @sunkistjello bc they’re awesome and I promised them this fic like ages ago

Characters: Jackie, Marvin

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: a little bit of blood an injury, but that should be it. Marvin and Jackie are dumb dorks in love they just don’t know how to go about it.

It's such a nice, pleasant evening, one of those quiet ones Jackie cherishes the most. No running around fighting crime, no worrying Marvin or sitting alone on the couch because Marvin is so immersed in working on his magic that he doesn't even notice Jackie is there. They're almost like normal people, and Jackie is sitting in the living room trying to choose which movie to watch while Marvin is getting up to lord knows what in the kitchen.

Jackie's head shoots up and he turns towards the kitchen when he hears the sudden sound of plates tumbling onto each other. He heads over to investigate, knowing full and well that he'll either find Marvin seriously needing his help or just in an amusing situation, and both of those are worth getting up for.

Marvin, as Jackie discovers, is balancing at least ten different plates of varying shapes and sizes with such intense focus that he doesn't even notice Jackie at first. He only realises he's got company when Jackie tries to take some of the dishes from him before he causes an accident.

Jackie takes the top few plates off the stack and leans closer to Marvin's face with a small grin. "You need any help?"

Marvin snatches the plates back and turns on his heel with surprising speed, and even more surprisingly he doesn't drop anything. "I'm fine, I've got this!" he shoots Jackie a reassuring grin before he starts sorting through the dishes, stubbornly without putting the original tower of them down anywhere.

Jackie watches with slight worry. Marvin doesn't pay him any mind.

He's got the plates sorted out quite quickly and without accident, and Jackie feels like he should applaud him for it, up until the moment Marvin turns and shoots him the widest grin, that little shit.

"Ha! Told ya!"

Jackie just chuckles to himself and gives him a fond shake of his head. "Sure you did," he agrees jokingly.

He moves to stand at the counter next to Marvin and starts putting the dishes away. He playfully knocks his hip against Marvin's, who reciprocates by shoving him so hard he almost falls. Marvin isn't sure if he should be laughing or apologising for a moment, but the next second Jackie jumps him shouting that this offence demands blood. Before he knows what's really happening Marvin is screeching and flailing, trying to escape Jackie's tickling.

"Okay, okay! I give up!" Marvin shouts, breathless from laughing. Jackie listens and his hands come to rest on Marvin's hips instead of running over his sides. Marvin tries to calm his residual giggling, but to no avail. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," Jackie grins and presses a kiss to his cheek. The smooth bastard. Marvin can't keep his giggles down again.

Jackie finally lets go of him to properly start putting away the clean dishes. Marvin runs a hand through his hair a few times to make it orderly again, then he joins to help him.

Though there's still a small smile playing with his lips, Jackie's thoughts circle back to earlier. He takes a mental note of what he's just learned – Marvin does not like accepting help.

Apparently neither does Jackie.

"No, really," Jackie waves his hands about, immersed in the story he’s telling. "There were four of them, all armed with knives and who knows what else. One of them almost got me. I barely got away!"

He stops when he notices that instead of his usual enthusiasm and excitement, Marvin seems so be very serious and deep in thought. Serious Marvin is never a good sign.

"Okay, what's up?" Jackie nudges him.

"You know I'm a magician and all that, right?" he starts, without any hesitation to his voice. "I could be useful to you out there. I could help you fight and escape easier. If you would let me come with you, y'know."

Jackie's expression darkens, but Marvin either doesn't notice at all or he just pretends he doesn't.

"I don't wanna take your title or anything! I'm totally okay with being just a sidekick!" Marvin shrugs and looks at Jackie with a hopeful grin. "We could fight crime together!"

"No."

"But...why?" Marvin looks confused. Jackie has never shut any of his ideas down so quickly before.

"Because I said so," Jackie crosses his arms. "I'm not going into a debate about this."

"But Jackie, I could help you! And it would be so much fun!" Marvin doesn't listen. Of course he doesn't listen. "Look, I can do fire magic pretty alright, illusions are easy, and healing magic isn't exactly my thing but I could try learning it for you!"

"I said no, Marvin. I'm not changing my mind about this."

"But-..."

"No," Jackie cuts in coldly. Before Marvin could say anything else he pushes himself up from the couch and makes for the door.

Marvin is dumbfounded. This is not the Jackie he knows. "Okay, but why?" he asks, maybe a little too loud.

Jackie stops in the doorway for a moment and shoots him a sharp look which undeniably means that he considers this conversation over. "Because I'm not willing to risk you getting hurt out there," and with that he turns and leaves. Marvin doesn't have the chance to respond, but then again he doesn't really know what to say anyway.

When Jackie wakes up in the middle of the night at first he has no idea why. He lies still, eyes trying to pierce the darkness around him. Then he hears it – heavy thuds and startled cries, coming from the direction of Marvin's room. Jackie jumps out of bed so quickly he has to hold onto the wall for a second as the world around him goes fuzzy.

He stumbles through the darkness as he makes his way to Marvin's room, not bothering with his glasses and thinking to himself that maybe they should put up some nightlights in the hallway. He knocks on Marvin's door for politeness's sake, but doesn't wait for longer than a few seconds before entering.

He doesn't know what he was expecting to see but it surely wasn't this. In the moonlight filtering through the thin curtains the image is more surreal than it should be considering Jackie's past experiences with living with a magician.

There's objects floating all around the room – books, drawing supplies, a few clothes, a couple of empty cups. They tremble in place and occasionally one or more of them give in to gravity and fall to the ground, then slowly float back up again. At least Jackie knows where the thuds have come from now.

But the worst part is when Jackie finally notices Marvin. He's nothing but a lump curled up on the bed, as small as he can get, shaking like a leaf. His blanket is thrown off, lying in a heap on the ground. As Jackie watches in startled silence, Marvin cries out again, flinching violently, and three or four of the floating objects plummet to the floor before rising again.

Jackie rushes to the bed dodging flying books so thick they could probably smash his skull in if they decided to fall the wrong moment. He drops to he knees next to the bed, grabbing Marvin by the shoulders. He's very clearly having a nightmare and Jackie needs to wake him from it somehow.

He has no idea how. He's never had to deal with Marvin having nightmares before. He doesn't know if they're a very rare occurrence or if Marvin is just very good at hiding that he has them, but this definitely has to be the first time they got this bad. Jackie has never woken up to something like this before.

"Come on, Marvin, wake up!" he shakes Marvin again, trying to be gentle.

Jackie doesn't know if it's the sudden physical contact or if he just got lucky with his timing and Marvin was about to wake up anyway, but Marvin’s eyes snap open and his body tenses, and all the floating objects fall down for the final time. He flinches violently at the noise and curls in on himself more, crying and trembling. Jackie's heart breaks seeing him like this.

"Hey, Marvin," Jackie whispers, careful not to startle him more.

Marvin peeks out from behind his hands, eyes wide in terror, but once they focus on Jackie's face he lets out another sob and reaches for him desperately. Jackie reacts immediately and pulls him into his arms as well as he can while still sitting beside the bed. He strokes the back of Marvin's head with his thumb as he buries his face into Jackie's neck and cries.

"It's okay," he whispers. Damn, he teases Marvin a lot for being shorter than him, but this time he actually feels so small. It scares Jackie a bit. "You're safe now, I'm here."

He can feel Marvin's nails digging into his back as he holds on for dear life. He ignores the little pricks of pain and doesn't stop whispering reassurance until Marvin's crying subsides. As soon as it does, Marvin pulls away. He's still shaking and Jackie watches him carefully.

Marvin falls onto his back and takes a couple shaky breaths. "Thanks," he mumbles, staring at the ceiling instead of anywhere near Jackie. "I'm good now."

"Are you sure?" Jackie asks. It's a genuine question, but he's not sure Marvin understands that. He reaches out to wipe Marvin's tears from his face. Marvin tenses under his touch for a moment before relaxing again. He's not wearing his mask, the scars running across his face are on full display and that always puts him on edge.

"Yeah. It's nothing."

Jackie hums. He doesn't want to argue. "I can stay here if you'd like," he offers. It's as much for his own peace of mind as it is for Marvin's, but he doesn't mention that. He'd feel much better sleeping next to Marvin tonight after an episode like this.

"No, it's fine," he considers trying for a reassuring smile but decides he wouldn't really be able to pull it off right now. Instead he just rolls over so that his back is turned to Jackie. As much as he loves Jackie he doesn't want him to see him in such condition.

Jackie sighs. Here they go again, Marvin and his stubbornness. Jackie won't argue, he hates to. He just hopes one day Marvin will come to him for help on his own.

"Alright," he nods and pushes himself to a stand. He picks up the discarded blanket and drapes it over Marvin's curled up form. For a moment he contemplates if he should, but he leans down and presses a kiss to Marvin's temple. "But do wake me up if you need anything."

Marvin only hums and shuts his eyes. Jackie knows he's not okay and he wishes Marvin would just admit it. It hurts to leave him when he's like this.

Jackie still does, not knowing what else to do. He shuts the door behind himself quietly and screws his eyes shut for a moment too. He just wants to help.

He doesn't hear any more noises from Marvin's room that night. For a while he believes it's a good sign, but his stomach drops ten feet when the next morning he sees Marvin exhausted and barely upright on his feet. He knows Marvin hasn't slept the whole night just to avoid his nightmares and his need for Jackie’s comfort.

Jackie sways as soon as he lets go of the doorframe. Hmm. Maybe he's lost more blood than he had originally thought. As he stumbles to the bathroom he prays Marvin is already asleep. The last thing he wants right now is to worry Marvin.

Okay, so maybe he looks like a hungry werewolf just took a tasty bit out of his shoulder. So what? He's a superhero fighting crime almost every day, heroes get hurt and then they move on and go back to their duties. That's how it works.

Marvin doesn't seem to understand that.

Jackie isn't mad at him, of course he isn't. He knows Marvin's worry comes from love and he loves Marvin back just as much. But whether Marvin worries or not, Jackie is still going to put himself out there, fight and inevitably get hurt every now and again. The only difference is that if he hides his wounds successfully then they won't hurt Marvin too. And so that's what he does, sneaking around the house when he comes home injured, pretending he's fine, promising Marvin to be more careful next time even though it's not up to him.

He gets lucky. Lucky in his book, at least.

Marvin seems to have already gone to sleep. It's rare that he doesn't stay up waiting for Jackie, but it happens. Jackie is glad he's not exhausting himself more than he already does by his magic.

The wound on his shoulder hurts like a bitch. Advil doesn't exactly work for this kind of stuff and so he bites down on a rag while he cleans it for himself. It would probably be much better if Marvin did it for him, but he doesn't want to disturb him. So he sits in the bathtub, getting blood all over himself, messing up the bandaging for the sixth time and grasping hopelessly after the gauze when it rolls away from him again. He manages.

He's almost done cleaning himself from blood when the bathroom door opens and Jackie freezes. Marvin comes stumbling in, looking incredibly sleepy. He's wearing his mask out of habit and comfort, and one of Jackie's flannels over his pyjamas. His hair is a mess, falling across his forehead because he can't be bothered to brush it back and Jackie oh so desperately wants to run his hands through it.

Marvin blinks confusedly at the light and at the sight of Jackie sitting in the tub before it clicks. His expression melts into a mix of hurt and worry, and Jackie curses his bad luck.

"What happened?" Marvin shuffles over, clumsy with sleep, and crouches next to the tub.

"Nothing serious," Jackie shrugs only with his intact shoulder. "I'm gonna be fine."

"You always say that."

Jackie's expression softens and he leans a little closer. "Would I ever lie to you?"

"No. Stop that," Marvin's eyebrows knit together and he looks dead serious.

"Stop what?" the innocence in Jackie's voice is genuine. He's not exactly sure what Marvin means this time.

"Sweet talking yourself out of this...situation you've got yourself into."

"Oh..." he looks away and tilts his head a little. "I promise I am going to be okay though. It's not as bad as it looks," he turns back towards Marvin and offers him a small smile.

"Why won't you just let me help..."

Jackie sighs. He looks genuinely sad. "Marvin, we've been over this."

Marvin's shoulders sag and he lowers his head. Jackie is still surprised by how quick his pride can drop into defeat.

"I just wish..." Marvin cuts himself off, not sure if he wants to continue. He screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, biting his lower lip. His eyes are dry and he's glad he's finally learning not to cry every time Jackie gets hurt. He'd want to, but he can't just guilt Jackie into staying every time instead of pursuing his dream as a hero.

Marvin leans his elbows onto the edge of the tub and stares blankly at the frayed bits of gauze lying at the bottom next to Jackie's bare legs. He feels numb.

"I can't just quit being a hero," Jackie shakes his head. He's torn. Again.

"I know."

Jackie takes one of Marvin's hands and presses his knuckles to his lips. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Marvin whispers again. He's sorry too.

They're at a standstill. And neither of them know how to proceed.

They're both having a bad day.

Marvin has been struggling with a spell for days and he's making no progress. It's infuriating and he's not exactly known to be the most patient person either. He's getting incredibly close to just lighting this whole thing on fire and giving up on it, then lighting a few more things on fire just to let out his frustration.

Jackie shuffles into the room looking uncharacteristically tired and frail. He's been having one of those days when just nothing works out. Everything seems to break under his touch, he can't get anything right, there's a lump in his throat and his hands won't stop shaking. Above everything he just really, really needs a hug.

He approaches Marvin tentatively, and the little voice in the back of his head won't stop telling him that if everything he tries goes wrong today, why wouldn't this too? He can see the tension in Marvin's shoulders and the smouldering fire behind his eyes, and his instinct to help and comfort overrides his need to be comforted.

"Hey, Marv," he tries for a soft, happy voice. "You need any help?"

Marvin turns around swiftly to glare at him. "I'm fine," he snarls pointedly, then whips back around so quickly he doesn't even see the hurt in Jackie's eyes.

Jackie all but runs to his room. Marvin didn't mean it, he's just frustrated, he didn't mean to hurt him, don't cry over something so stupid, don't cry, don't you dare cry...It's really hard not to cry. This day just had to deliver another low blow before he gave up on it, didn't it?

He sits curled up in the corner of his bed, knees drawn to his chest, hugging a pillow. He wishes it was Marvin in his arms instead. He needs comfort, desperately, the kind he can only really get from cuddling or goofing off with Marvin. He wishes he could just go back, pull Marvin up by his hand and ask him for a dance like he usually does when Marvin is having a bad day and Jackie wants to cheer him up.

But usually Marvin doesn't snap at him and usually Jackie doesn't have this bad of a day. But now he does and he doesn't know what to do about it. If only he could spend time with Marvin or find another way to pick himself up, but Marvin is busy and frustrated and Jackie doesn't want to bother him.

His mind wanders, but it always winds up with darker and darker thoughts. Jackie doesn't like them.

He's painfully aware of how stubborn Marvin is, and how stubborn he himself is, too. And he slowly starts to think it's going to tear them apart. He's scared Marvin will one day hurt himself when he just won't ever ask for help to deal with his own demons. And Marvin is scared Jackie will die of his own stubborn hero complex one day.

They can't keep doing this. Jackie finally admits that.

He kicks himself off the bed, discarding the pillow in the process. He needs to talk to Marvin about this, he doesn't care that Marvin is in a snappy mood and armed with powerful magic he could blow up in Jackie's face. They can't keep avoiding this.

He finds that Marvin had moved to his room to keep messing with whatever trick he's been struggling with recently. Jackie knocks on the door and Marvin cracks it open, just wide enough so that Jackie can see his face. He doesn't even say anything, just gives Jackie a pointed look that tells him to hurry up and get it over with.

"We need to talk," okay, that's a horrible start. Jackie anxiously brushes a hand through his hair. "We can't keep doing this, avoiding problems and never accepting help. It's not healthy," he sighs. He really hopes Marvin understands, but sometimes it's hard getting things through that thick skull of his.

Marvin lets out a sad chuckle. "It's just what we do, isn't it? Running headfirst into walls before thinking about going around," he shrugs, and before Jackie could ask what he means he shuts the door again.

Jackie is left standing there. He feels alone and lost. He has no idea what to make of Marvin's response, whether he's content with their current situation or if he's just too tired to try and change it for the better, or something entirely different even. Jackie wishes this was just a bad dream he could wake up from, or a fairy tale so that he could snap his fingers and make it all okay again.

Marvin is within arm's reach, just on the other side of the door, yet he feels miles away. It's not an entirely new feeling, Marvin does get distant from time to time, but this time it really scares Jackie. It puts an unwelcome ache in his bones, the fear that he's alone and doesn't know what to do.

He's scared. Both for himself and for Marvin.

That night Jackie hears it again. The thuds, the muffled cries – he knows, it settles painfully in his chest, that Marvin is having nightmares again. It's the third time just this week. He rolls over to his back and stares at the ceiling, or as much as he can see from it in the darkness at least. He wants so badly to get up and go over to Marvin's room to comfort him, but at the same time he isn't sure if he even should. That hurts to think about, too, how just a day ago Jackie would have rushed to check on Marvin and hold him until he calmed down regardless of Marvin's stubborn nature, and now he's here doubting if that would be the correct choice. It hurts.

He mentally kicks himself for even making that a dilemma. Marvin is stubborn and proud, but Jackie still loves him all the same. He can't just sit around while Marvin is hurting and needs his help.

He's just about to jump out of bed and make his way to Marvin's room, not even noticing the absence of noises, when his door opens. It's Marvin, standing in the doorway and holding onto the door for support, shaking and crying silently. Jackie almost trips over his own feet in his hurry to run to him and hug him. Marvin clings to him weakly as soon as he gets within his reach.

He half leads, half carries Marvin to the bed, because he's so shaky he can barely stand on his feet. Jackie keeps whispering to him. "It's okay, I'm here, you're okay, you're safe, it's okay..."

Marvin curls against him as soon as they sit down on the bed, hiding his face in Jackie’s shoulder as he cries. Jackie holds him close and rocks the both of them, back and forth, back and forth. He doesn’t stop talking for a moment, whispering reassurance over Marvin’s sobs and whimpers. After a while Marvin seems to calm down and he pushes himself away, breathing deep to calm himself. He doesn’t get far before crying takes him over again and he collapses back against Jackie. Jackie rocks him and mumbles over and over again that it’s okay, they’re okay, he’s got him and everything is going to be fine.

Marvin eventually runs out of tears and of breath. He remains holding onto Jackie, heaving tiredly and still shaking. An annoying voice at the back of Jackie’s mind nags at him, tells him that this is exactly what he’s been afraid would happen.

Except it isn’t. Because Marvin came to him on his own.

“Hey? Any better?” Jackie asks gently, burying his nose into Marvin’s hair tiredly. He can’t lie to himself, he’d love to just fall asleep like this. When he feels Marvin weakly hum and nod, he plants a kiss onto his head.

“You know, I...” Marvin speaks unexpectedly, his voice small and shaky. He shudders as he takes a deep breath. “I do need your help. I need you. And I do know that, I just...” he’s rambling, he knows he is, but it’s late and he’s tired and Jackie holding him like this just feels so nice, and he can’t stop himself. “I don’t wanna burden you when you already have...so much to deal with. And I don’t want to accidentally hurt you, with all my freaky nightmares and magic and all that,” his voice cracks and he does his best not to start crying again. He presses himself closer to Jackie. “I should be able to deal with all of this on my own, but...but I’m not.”

Jackie doesn’t know how to respond. There’s just too much to say. He squeezes Marvin for a moment, enjoying having him in his arms so much, and then he pushes him a little farther away. Marvin looks like a mess, a beautiful mess in Jackie’s eyes but a mess nonetheless. Jackie presses a kiss to his forehead, his bare forehead, no mask, just Marvin and his scars.

“We can talk about this in the morning, okay?” he asks softly. He knows he had been the one finding this more urgent than anything, but right now they’re both sleepy and not at all emotionally stable. They will need clear minds and daylight to sort this out.

Marvin agrees. They go to sleep together.

Jackie is slow to wake up. It’s the perfect start to the best kind of morning, feeling sunshine through his eyelids and a warm body curled next to his. He moves closer, pulling Marvin against himself more and he feels Marvin laugh.

He cracks his eyes open just for a moment, then presses his nose against Marvin’s neck and mumbles into his skin. “Morning, sunshine.”

He feels Marvin laugh again. This is perfect.

Marvin holds him tight and runs a hand up and down his spine, and in his sleepy, blissful daze Jackie wishes the moment would last forever.

He can feel Marvin sigh. “Why can’t everything just be this easy and perfect?”

And it’s over. That sentence successfully wakes Jackie up, making him remember last night and the day before, and all the things they have to sort out. Cuddling is great, but since Marvin just had to go and open a can of worms in the middle of it all Jackie cannot blissfully ignore the problem any longer.

Jackie sits up and stretches, his spine straightening with a satisfying pop. He can feel Marvin shifting too, but he doesn’t make any moves to get up himself.

“Alright,” Jackie leans back on his hands and looks down at Marvin, still stubbornly buried between the sheets but very much awake. “We seriously need to talk.”

Marvin only gives him a look at means “okay then, you start”.

And so Jackie starts. “We can’t keep doing this. You can’t go around fighting all your demons on your own. I just...I can’t watch as this happens to you. I want to help you. I love you, damn it,” he rubs his hands over his face, not noticing the shocked look Marvin gives him. It’s a little strange when he thinks about it, because sure they’ve been sharing a house for a good while now, they give each other occasional kisses and they cuddle and they don’t necessarily sleep in their own bed every single night but...love confessions? That was an entirely new thing to happen. But Jackie doesn’t even seem to notice. “We both need each others’ help, okay? We gotta learn that. It’s not easy, I know, but we have to.”

Marvin nods in understanding when Jackie looks towards him for approval. He knows Jackie must have had these thoughts for a long while now, so he lets him talk. Jackie needs to get this out of his system.

“Getting help doesn’t make you weak or any bit less or a burden,” Jackie continues. “You...you’re not a burden, okay? Don’t ever think you are. And you’re strong, really strong, I know that too, I just...” he runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. “I want to help you, because you don’t have to do this alone. And...neither do I.”

When Jackie leans forward and props his chin up on his hands, Marvin knows he’s done. He looks so tired, too, and not the “just woken up and wanna cuddle” kind of tired.

Marvin lets himself think for a moment. What Jackie had said hit him pretty hard and now he needs to gather his thoughts. He knows Jackie doesn’t want to mess up and neither does he.

“Okay, first of all,” he groans as he sits up and his joints are forced back to work. He rolls his shoulders and moves to sit closer to Jackie, who watches him curiously. “I love you, too,” he leans forward and pulls Jackie into a kiss before he could lose his courage. Jackie makes a shocked little sound in the back of his throat before he all but melts and Marvin chuckles against his lips. A proper kiss. Now that’s another thing they haven’t done before. When they pull apart, Jackie is wearing a happy, dopey grin and Marvin playfully smacks his shoulder, laughing. “And secondly,” he lets his voice turn serious again. “You’re right. I need to learn to let you help me...and you need to let me help you, too. You can’t run around saving people and getting hurt all the time and then taking care of yourself all on your own. Let me do it. Let me help,” he smiles. “I’ll let you help me and you let me help you, huh? We can take care of each other.”

The grin is back on Jackie’s lips the moment Marvin finishes talking. “That sounds like a deal to me.”

Marvin laughs. “It is a deal then.”

They smile at each other for a moment like some sleepy, lovesick idiots. They’re goofing off and joking about it now, but they both know under it they’re being serious. It’s a completely serious agreement, a promise to try and do better, and they both want to keep it.

“Okay, can we seal the deal with breakfast though? I’m starving,” Jackie cocks his head to the side with a playful expression. “Pancakes?”

“Hmm, sure,” Marvin stretches again and stifles a yawn. “We have waffles in the cupboard though.”

Jackie’s eyes widen as if Marvin had just told him the way to some incredible treasure. “Waffles?”

“Yes, Jackieboy, we have waffles,” laughs Marvin. He thanks his lucky stars for blessing him with such a lovable idiot.

“I vote waffles then! I’m too lazy to make pancakes right now.”

“You lazy bum,” Marvin teases, poking him in the side. “Waffles it is then.”

“What are we waiting for then?” Jackie cheers with over-the-top enthusiasm. He’s being a big dork, but it’s making Marvin laugh so it’s definitely worth it. “Waffle time!”

Jackie tumbles off the bed, tripping over his own feet in his hurry, and Marvin watches him in amusement. He tugs Marvin up too, then makes to let go and get his glasses, but Marvin grabs his hand. Jackie stops, a little flustered and a bit more confused.

Marvin gives him a shy smile and pulls out a red rose from behind his back. An old magic trick, nothing spectacular as far as execution goes, but Marvin hopes the gesture is genuine and cheesy enough to make Jackie happy. From the way Jackie’s face turns almost as red as the rose, Marvin guesses it worked. He laughs, pressing a kiss to Jackie’s cheek that only deepens his blush.

Then he pulls away, grinning, and takes off towards the kitchen. “Move or I’m not leaving you any waffles, slowpoke!”

Jackie takes another fond look at the rose in his hand before he follows him, shouting jokingly about how he will move all of Marvin’s belongings to the highest shelves in the house if he does that.

They have a long way to go, they are both aware of that. Learning to ask for help is one of the hardest things to do, but they’re going to get there. One day they will, they just have to give it time. But the point is that they’re both willing to work on it, if anything because they love each other.

#marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #marvelsepticeye #fanfiction #jacksepticeye #writing #no idea if 5+1 fics are cringey or over or whatever and i've never written one before but i find it a really good format #that's very pleasant to work with at least for me #look at that cheesy ass sappy ending #sorry for any mistakes i wrote this whole thing today somehow so there might be some at the end #i love. writing. relationship. development.

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hockeyshitandstuff · 3 years

Text

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 1)

part two here

part three here

word count: 1860 words

TW: language, angst (?)

let me know if you want part two, I’m somehow still not sure

...

It was so hot that day. The movers were already gone, the place feeling empty without all the furniture. In a few hours, you'd be long gone, flying far away from Chesterfield.

Some small part of you felt sorry for selling your parents' house - the house you spent your whole childhood living in. But they moved out a few years ago and told you many times they didn't mind at all selling it.

Wiping the sweat off of your eyebrows you made your way through the blooming garden, trying to memorize every little detail. You remembered climbing this tree, you remembered the hole in the fence you made so the neighbour's dog could come play with you, you remembered the time capsule you and Matt buried here when you were fifteen.

Until now, you completely forgot about that. Even though you two didn't talk after he got drafted, it'd be a good idea to meet again since you might never see him again. You might be moving to Calgary but that city was so big it'd be a miracle to meet Matthew somewhere.

So you scrolled through your phone, praying he didn't change his number after all those years as you dialed it.

The phone rang twice before someone picked it up.

"Yes?"

Matthew's voice was so different since the last time you talked.

"Hey Matt, this is Y/N, I'm moving out today and I thought we could dig up the time capsule we buried at my place as kids before I leave. Are you in town?" It was off-season so you might get lucky.

"You are moving out already? But yeah, I can meet you in an hour if you have the time."

"Yes, I'll still be here, don't worry."

"Okay..." There was a moment of awkward silence, neither of you knew how to break it. Was it a bad idea? Of course you wouldn't be as good friends as you once were. But you didn't know it would be this... weird. He didn't say goodbye back when he left to Calgary and didn't answer to any of your calls or messages. What were you thinking? That he wanted to see you?

"So, where are you moving to?" Matt finally continued, making the conversation more bareable.

"Calgary, they offered me an amazing job there."

"Really? I've been there for a few years."

"I heard." Not from you, was what you didn't say. It seemed like he'd heard it nonetheless.

Silence. You hated how distant you've grown - once, a long time ago, you were best friends. You went together to kindergarden and since then you've been the best of best friends. But even after all you went through, you didn't know what to say.

"Nevermind, I have to get going. I'll be at your place at three, okay?"

"Okay. I'll meet you there."

As you hung up, sadness enveloped you. Maybe you shouldn't have called. Maybe it'd be better to never meet Matt again, to remember only the good old times.

But he might be already on his way and you wanted to say a proper goodbye before going far, far away.

You loved him once, you recalled. It broke your heart when he left without looking back.

It irritated you that you couldn't do the same as easily.

...

"Y/N?" a now familiar voice called, the sound of closing car doors echoing through the silent street.

Matt looked same as he did four years ago and still totally different. It was like staring at a stranger you could swear you've already seen before. The curly, those pretty grey-blue eyes and the crooked smile you remembered and thought about too often. He got taller and more mascular over the time he played hockey professionally.

"Hey," you said nervously, tucking your slightly trembling hands into the pockets of your shorts.

Again, that uncomfortable silence took place.

"How long is it?" Since you've last seen each other. Since he'd ignored your calls and messages. Since he'd left you crying as he left this town - as he left you.

"Five years," you said.

Regret flashed in those pretty eyes as he took you in. Did you look to him the same as you did the last time he saw you?

"I'm sorry I didn't call." That was it? After five fucking years of silence, this was his apology for everything. This was a mistake. You didn't think it through when you called him today. Just now you started remembering all the things he's done to you.

"That doesn't make it hurt less, does it?" You whipped around, going to the line of fruit trees where you left the two shovels you borrowed from the neighbour.

Matt's hand slightly gripped your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.

"I know that I made a bunch of wrong decisions before I left."

"I've been trying for 6 months to reach you before giving up completely. And you? You've been living the best version of your life anyone could ever imagine."

"That's not true and you know it." Matthew said and you wanted to leave right then, forget this stupid meeting.

"I do not." you hissed, trying to calm down your rising temper.

Matt sighed, not wanting to argue over this. So he made his way to the tree line, picked one shovel from the ground and started digging where he remembered the time capsule was.

You didn't help him dig it up. You were too lost in memories, clinging to the past as you thought of younger version of Matt.

The clang of metal on metal attracted your attention back to him. He grunted as he pulled up the metal box and laid it on the grass.

You ducked low next to him, dusting off the dirt of the box. It was an old, weirdly dented thing. Your eyes laid on the lock and you nearly sighed in annoyance just when Matt grabbed at his necklace, the key dangling from it. When you two buried the capsule, each of you got a key made for it. You had yours somewhere in the boxes that had already been shipped to your new apartment and Matt's... he didn't forget. He kept it through the years, guarding it and not losing it as you expected.

You didn't say anything, just patiently waited for him to open the box.

There was a letter inside, along with a bunch of things you thought of as long forgotten. Your bracelets of friendship, the colors faded already; a puck with which you and Matthew played your first hockey game together when you were six; so many polaroid photos with your faces on them; USB with a playlist you two always danced to.

Your eyes watered - how were you supposed to say goodbye to all of this?

Silently, you looked over all of the photos - you and Matt in the rink with small hockey sticks and skates, you and Matt sticking out your tongues colored blue with slushies, you and Matt, you and Matt, you and Matt...

Then Matthew's hand found yours, your fingers automatically intertwining with his. You started crying, first silently but then the sobs shook with your whole body.

"Come here," he murmured, hugging you. His body was so soft and warm, as if begging you to lean into his touch.

"How- how could you leave this all behind?" you mumbled between the sobs.

"It's not leaving if you don't say goodbye." Matt said, his fingers playing with yours.

"Then you are a fucking coward, Matthew."

Silence. He didn't argue with you on that, so you must have been right.

You stopped crying after a while, checking your watch while wiping your nose.

Shit. It was so late already - you had to call an uber to get you to the airport in the next hour or you'd be super late.

"I'll have to go," you said quietly, but Matt interrupted you.

"You are right," he tucked on the edge of his shirt, clearly nervous. He was nervous. "I was a coward. I thought that if I didn't say goodbye to you as I left, it'd hurt less. I was wrong and I was a fucking coward for not picking up your calls or replying to your messages because it would make it so real - that I was leaving and probably never coming back. But I want to make it all right again, I want to be a part of your life - if you will let me."

You thought about his offer and still, you couldn't answer. You weren't sure about letting him into your heart just for him to storm out again without a goodbye, leaving you behind, broken.

"Can I at least take you to the airport?" To that, you nodded, picking up the time capsule, putting all the items back in. Then you gave back the lent shovels to your neighbour and with a last glance at your house, you got into Matt's car.

...

On the way to the airport Matt played the playlist from the USB that was in the time capsule and the nostalgy hit you hard.

You remembered the lyrics, the melody; you remembered everything.

The drive was too short and you started panicking as the engine stopped.

Matthew helped you with your suitcase and went inside with you. The two of you stopped at the first gate.

"Here," he said, giving you a piece of paper. "It's my adress. Hopefully, you won't live so far away, so we could meet there if you wanted to."

You tucked it in your pocket without a word.

"Also, take this. I wrote it in ninth grade so don't think much of it. But I want you to read it, Y/N."

It was the letter from the time capsule, with your name on the blank envelope.

"I will." you promised.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward this time.

"I'll let you know my decision about what you said earlier. I just... I need some time."

Matt noded, giving you the space you so desperately needed.

"So, until we meet again - goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Matt."

...

The plane took off and you finally had the time to read the letter he gave you.

You immediately recognised his scrambled handwriting and you smiled at how messy it was before you started reading.

Dear Y/N,

I'm writing this in case I leave. Dad has been telling me for some time already that if I'll get drafted, I'll have to leave. He also said that if I'll be smart, I will never look back at my past.

I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future.

He said I'll meet a lot of girls but I know that none of them is going to be like you.

So, I promise you, I will never say goodbye to you.

I love you,

Matt

With trembling fingers, you pulled out your phone, the tears already staining the screen.

That's why he never said goodbye. Because of this stupid letter and his stupid promise.

The phone rang once before he picked it up.

"Y/N? What is it?"

A ragged breath escaped you and you laughed and cried at the same time.

"I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future."

"Oh, that was cheesy, wasn't it-"

"No, you dumbass. That's my answer."

220 notes · View notes

charlottepuddingsama · 3 years

Text

Taste of Her Own Medicine

I wrote a zosan fic; come read it (Ao3 link in the reblog)

Description: Zoro is running late to a meeting with Sanji. When he finally gets there Sanji is swooning over the ex that crushed his heart while she peacocks and shows off her new boyfriend. People like that really pissed Zoro off.

Zoro checked his watch again. God damnit, he was late. Again. Which meant Sanji was going to kill him for it. Again. He couldn’t even pin this on Sanji this time, either, because Zoro was the one to suggest they meet at the fountain. To be fair, when he suggested it he’d been sure that he in-fact knew the way to the fountain. When he reached where it should have been, however, it inexplicably wasn’t there.

Now he’s rushing halfway across town to get to where it apparently actually is, if his phone’s map could be trusted (Zoro did not trust his phone’s map, sure that it was constantly sending him on the slowest, stupidest route possible. He was definitely always better off just going his own way). At least the exercise was warming him up, the sun yet to burn off the late spring morning’s chill.

He was only twenty minutes late, maybe Sanji would let him off easy for once? Zoro sighed inwardly, knowing that would never happen. It was going to be stupid to be yelled at about this, too, since they weren’t even doing anything where timing was all that important. They were just trying to find good birthday presents for Luffy. Zoro was kind of hopeless at presents while Sanji was always amazing at them, always picking out something thoughtful and custom-tailored to the recipient. Zoro most often showed up with an amazon gift card feeling completely stupid about it. Knowing this, Zoro had stealthily suggested they go hunting together so they didn’t, “buy him the same thing.” As if Zoro would ever give as good of a gift as Sanji would. He was actually surprised Sanji hadn’t seen right through him and refused, but the other had actually more-or-less readily accepted the idea. Zoro supposed there was a first time for everything.

The first time for Zoro to not make himself late, however, was not today.

After some wrong turns and two dead ends that might have actually been the same dead end twice, Zoro finally, finally saw the large fountain that marked the beginning of the city park come into view. He slowed his jog to a walk, glad he hadn’t yet broken a sweat. Couldn’t let Sanji think he actually cared about keeping their appointment. Not that it mattered what the cook thought, of course, but if he thought Zoro cared he might somehow get an even bigger head than he already had. Not that Zoro actually cared in the first place, too, of course. He hadn’t been looking forward to spending a whole day shopping with Sanji even a little. Not at all.

Zoro looked around the paved area, searching for Sanji amongst the small crowd mingling by the fountain. The day was still a bit crisp from the morning, but that didn’t seem to dissuade people as they gathered around the mouth of the park. Some were alone, some in groups, and others towed animals on leashes either walking the pets or clearly getting walked by them. Zoro surveyed the whole crowd, looking for Sanji standing off by himself, probably bent agitatedly over his phone with a cigarette in his mouth. None of the loners in the area fit his description though.

Had Zoro somehow actually made it here first after all? That didn’t seem even a little bit likely. He kept looking.

Finally, after a long moment of searching, he managed to spot him. A familiar head of blonde hair, a neat dress shirt, and long legs stood by the side of the fountain striking an impossible-to-mistake silhouette.

He wasn’t alone, though.

In front Sanji was an unfamiliar couple: some brunette girl holding the hand of an average looking boy. Was Sanji hitting on a stranger while her boyfriend was literally right there? Really?

Zoro’s face morphed into an unimpressed look. How classic. He really had no idea what he was expecting, offering to take Sanji around in public where he might run into females in the wild. A strong feeling of annoyance grew in his chest at just imagining the stupid drivel that must be spewing out of that mouth of his.

Zoro began to march over there with intentions to drag Sanji away by the ear when he suddenly stopped himself in his own tracks. His brows furrowed, studying the way Sanji was standing. His entire posture was eerily off. One hand was in his pocket while the other held a lit cigarette. His shoulders were tight and a little high, legs slightly farther apart than normal as if on defense. There was absolutely none of the easy oozing he exuded whenever he normally was chatting up some girl. He wasn’t swooning even a little.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

A thrum of worry pulsed through Zoro. It wasn’t that he was worried about Sanji – he could take care of himself, plus, Zoro reminded himself, he didn’t give a fuck about him (how does he keep forgetting that?). Rather, he was worried about what kind of threat these two people could possibly pose to get someone as cool-headed as Sanji so visibly tense.

Looking at the two, he knew he couldn’t place the boy, but the brunette… did he know her? Her face was rather indistinct, no particular piece of it sticking out to him. Her clothes looked well-pressed, and they were probably fashionable, not that Zoro had any real frame of reference for that. Her brown hair was half tied up in two little buns on her head, the rest left to fall down past her shoulders. She just seemed like a completely random, normal person; an auto-generation of any other girl about their age in the city.

Then the girl laughed at something. The sound was shrill and obnoxious in a way that grated on every nerve Zoro had. He wanted to absolutely break something.

Oh. Oh. Ohhhh. Zoro knew exactlywho this girl was. He scowled at the memory.

She was some chick Sanji had dated for a while, maybe a couple months? A name itched at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Two months was considerably longer than most of Sanji’s little trysts. He had even brought her around to meet everyone once; it was kind of a big deal since they’re friends are not only their family, but also extremely likely to scare any normal person away. Sanji had really, really actually liked this girl, Zoro was pretty sure.

And then she dumped him.

She’d reportedly done it unceremoniously one night, completely out of the blue. She simply told Sanji that she was, “done with this relationship now,” and left. Zoro had heard that line a hundred times over in the weeks following as Sanji wallowed pitifully, hit hard by the sudden cold shoulder. It had not been a pretty sight in the slightest. The ever-enamored cook had eventually bounced back, like he always did, but it really had taken longer than usual. Even Zoro had felt sorry for the guy at the time.

And now here she was. A completely random encounter in a city filled with a thousand other people that could be here instead. And she had the nerve to do, what? Strike up a casual conversation with someone she herself had so soundly dumped, some new boy in her tow? Inching closer, Zoro just barely started to be able to hear them. It was clear even just from her tone that the words exchanged were more than awkward hellos. The girl was gushing about her boyfriend the businessman, annunciating the words as if she wanted the whole park to turn and listen. She played with some expensive looking necklace in a way that was definitely supposed to be noticed, certainly some token from her little purse-mule of a boy.

That kind of thing really pissed Zoro off. Dump someone for no reason? Fine, whatever. But then go shoving yourself at him? In public and at random? She had to know how Sanji was physically incapable of being anything but overly polite to women, abusing that to get her kicks. Zoro grit his teeth as he watched Sanji gush at her that she looked as beautiful as always, that he simply adored how her hair grew out since he’d last seen her, that he was so happy she was so well taken care of. Underneath the gushing Zoro could practically feel how upset this whole encounter made Sanji, a self-pitying tone sewn into each sentence. It was like he was a slave to his own actions. The girl clearly let her ego be boosted by his attention and that made Zoro even angrier.

Zoro eyed the boy she had tugged along. He may have been some business guy or whatever, but he certainly didn’t look very impressive. His haircut was basic, his jacket was a bit too big and made him look like he was playing dress up, and his expression seemed far away as if zoned out. Zoro had him beat in muscle and looks easily. Zoro’s shirt was tight against his well-built chest, his jeans were slung low to show just a peak of his boxers, he’d have a healthy little glow from his jogging, and he raked a hand through his hair to give it a little volume. He was fully aware of exactly how good he looked in comparison and just pissed off enough to decide he might as well use it.

He wanted to see if little miss ex could handle a taste of her own medicine.

“Oi, Sanji,” he called, finally making his way to the trio. Sanji’s shoulders jumped to his ears. Zoro thought he looked like an animal frozen in crosshairs, waiting for its instincts to lead it to fight or flee. He turned slowly to look at Zoro, his face in a very un-handsome expression of combined panic and agitation.

Zoro fought his instinct to give just as nasty an expression back knowing he was now being watched by the brunette; his little show had now officially begun. Instead, he gave Sanji an easy smile as he sauntered over to him, eyes only on him, pretending to not even notice the couple right in front of them. This, of course, only lead to Sanji scrunching up his face in incredulous confusion. If this idea was going to work Zoro was going to have to wipe that look right off him.

When he was beside him, Zoro slung an arm around Sanji’s shoulder, letting himself drape over the other. Sanji was only one centimeter shorter than him and just as strong, so it always surprised Zoro just a bit how slight his naturally thin frame felt in his arms. A small, stupid rush of protectiveness briefly filled his chest and for once Zoro indulged it letting himself draw Sanji close to him. Sanji went stiff as a board and his eyes blew open in surprise. Zoro took advantage of his surprise, not letting him even think about getting a kick in as he reached out with his other hand to grab hold of Sanji’s stubbled chin.

He drew the other in for a quick, soft kiss.

The sharp scent of tobacco filled Zoro’s senses, but underneath it lied the familiar aroma of spices that followed Sanji everywhere he went. The scent was familiar, but the feel of Sanji’s lips against his was new. For all the times he’d bitten a mark into Sanji’s pale flesh, nipping along skin usually hidden later by shirts, Zoro couldn’t actually remember them kissing. If they ever had, they certainly would never do it as gently as this. He counted to ten in his head, wanting the kiss to look real while still public-appropriate.

Zoro was perfectly prepared for Sanji to remain like cardboard, perfectly fine carrying the kiss by himself. Suddenly, though, as if some sort of switch had gone off, Sanji softened, easing into Zoro’s hold like butter into warm bread.

All at once Sanji’s plush lips gently pressed back, allowing his weight to fall where Zoro’s arms had guided it. The count in Zoro’s head faltered for a second, mind going dumb from shock. Zoro had kissed plenty of people before, was a damn good kisser himself, but somehow nothing had ever felt like this. There was something in the way Sanji relaxed into him, how perfectly their lips slotted together, and the sensory of the strong scents and rough stubble and pillowy softness of lips. It all made even such a simple kiss simply intoxicating. Had they really never done this before? Why the hell not?

At ten (or was it eleven? Twelve?) Zoro drew his head back, ending their kiss with the soft sound of lips parting. He didn’t go far, though, hand still on the other’s chin, their breath mixing in the space between them. He opened his eyes, not knowing when he’d closed them, to find Sanji staring at him with a dazed expression and a gentle, pink blush spread across his cheeks. Zoro couldn’t help but smile, a strange feeling like fondness welling up in his chest. It was probably just hormones, like always, reminding him of the other times he’d made the typically put-together Sanji blush in more heated circumstances. Yeah, that was it, had to be.

“Thanks for waiting,” Zoro said, for once owning up to being late. Sanji blinked owlishly at him, as if trying to place where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. At that cute look something compelled Zoro and he made no move to stop it, giving a sweet kiss to the bit of forehead poking out from blonde bangs as if in apology.

“Ahem?” an impatient voice said, jarring Zoro back into reality. When had he left? It was like he’d had complete tunnel vision. Now, though, the situation around him came back into sharp focus. The mild chill of the spring air, the bubbling fountain behind him, the obnoxious couple in front of him, the reason why he did what he just did. Yes, right, he’d had a reason for doing that. One, singular, solitary reason and absolutely no other. A mission, even. Right.

Zoro dropped Sanji’s chin, ignoring the tingle in his hand and the definitely non-existent desire to hold him elsewhere. He instead hooked his thumb in one of his belt loops and assumed a pose hanging off of Sanji who was now tucked rather snugly into his side. The girl had her arms crossed and looked huffy. He raised an eyebrow at the two, acting as if they’d been the ones to interrupt him. “Sorry, didn’t see you there,” Zoro said casually, just knowing an egotistical bitch like her would be bothered by that. Sure enough, the girl’s eye twitched just a bit. Zoro held back a smug smile at getting a reaction so easily. “And you would be?”

Indignation flashed in the girl’s eyes. Had Zoro asked that rudely? Oh, pardon him. She stood herself up to look taller, as if looking down on him despite being a few inches shorter. Zoro refused to be phased.

“I’m Alice,” the girl introduced herself, not bothering to introduce the boy with her. It was probably for the best as the boy’s eyes had followed Zoro’s thumb down to where it rested, clearly distracted.

“I’m sure Sanji has told you all about me,” she added with fake sweetness, an almost sadistic smile crawling up her face. Alice, right. Alice was definitely the name Sanji wailed into his empty wine glass when Zoro and the others had tried to take him out on a boys’ night to cheer him up. He actually used to kind of like that name, but now it was forever tainted with the memory of this haughty cunt in front of him.

Instead of admitting to the recollection, though, Zoro looked at her blankly. “Alice…” he said, as if mulling the name over. As if he needed to search long and hard to find any semblance of someone in Sanji’s past named Alice. “Hm,” he said at length, “no… I don’t really remember having heard about someone by that name. Have you ever mentioned an Alice, babe?”

Despite addressing him, Zoro didn’t dare look at Sanji’s face. Even just the hint of doubt or disbelief or anger from Sanji might be enough to shake Zoro off his game and have this all come crashing down more humiliating than when they’d started.

He looked at Alice, instead, who looked at him like he’d grown a second head. The very concept that Sanji might not have cried his heart out about her every day since their parting was clearly a new one. It made Zoro so happy to have so suddenly shut her down with just a few words.

“Hold on! W-we’ve met before!” Alice protested, apparently recognizing him now. Zoro noted that she didn’t wait for Sanji to confirm or deny if he’d ever deigned to mention her once their relationship had ended. Zoro wondered if she was scared to know. Hearing something like that from the man himself might just shake her precious little ego. Zoro would love to see that happen.

“Oh, we have?” Zoro asked mildly, showing a clear disinterest in whether they had or not. He pretended to mull the concept over in his head just as he had her name. He certainly remembered the party Sanji had brought her to. He remembered that it had sucked because her laugh was too annoying to ignore even from across the room and cross-eyed drunk. Finally, he shrugged simply, clearly not caring one way or another. “Guess it just wasn’t very memorable.”

At that Alice looked absolutely stricken, an arrow piercing directly into her pride. Bullseye, Zoro thought to himself, narrowly remembering to keep his face schooled. He so badly wanted to give her the same wolfish grin he reserved for his enemies at tournaments, but his own internal satisfaction would have to suffice.

In his peripheral, Zoro saw Sanji take a long drag off his cigarette. Hopefully that meant he was willing to quietly play along. Possibly it meant he thought Zoro had genuinely forgotten about her and that he was about to get pummeled into a paste in about five seconds.

“S-So then, you two? You’re together then?” Alice asked, clearly affronted and looking for something to refill her sails. Zoro wondered if she was beginning to consider him her replacement. He wondered how he measured up.

Suddenly, though, she seemed then to get herself a second wind, puffing herself up in her coat. Zoro refrained from frowning, if just barely. And here he’d been winning.

“It’s so adorable to see new couples, isn’t it Darek, sweetie?” she said sweetly, grabbing on to her boy’s sleeve. The boy in question nodded absentmindedly, eyes locked on where Zoro was oh-so-incidentally toying at the waistband of his boxers with his thumb. A charming one, wasn’t he? “We’ve been together for four months now. It’s just so hard to find the one you’re truly meant to be with, but so rewarding to know they’re all yours. How long has your cute little thing been going on for?”

So she was considering him to be her replacement. Moreover, it seemed clear that if that were the case, he’d be the winner. This was her alternative hypothesis, the situation that would set the world just a little bit more right than it was right then. If their relationship was new she could brush it all off as certain to be doomed in a week or two, as so many new relationship were. Well, he’d better set her little worries to rest, now shouldn’t he?

“This little love bug,” Zoro said, pressing a sweet kiss to Sanji’s cheek, forcibly holding the other’s shoulder’s down when they jumped, “Has been all mine since August.” Would he most likely be paying for “love bug” with his very life later? Yes, yes he would. But it was so, so very worth it to see Alice’s face as she did the math. Zoro distinctly recalled The Wailing Remembrance of Alice having begun in that hot and muggy summer month. Logically, then, that made Zoro one hell of a rebound, and one that stuck quite nicely, too.

Alice was clearly taken aback, her refilled sails deflating again catastrophically. The cutesie pda, Zoro’s complete disinterest in with her, and the dawning evidence that maybe Sanji hadn’t been so hopelessly lost without her was doing exactly the job Zoro had hoped it would.

“B-but I thought you two hated each other!” She cried, looking between the two and sounding a bit desperate, “That you couldn’t stand in the same room without arguing!”

She, of course, had seen firsthand at the party the animosity between the two. She also had probably had to sit through at least a couple sessions of Sanji bitching about whatever thing Zoro had done to purposefully annoy him. Well, Zoro figured, you know what they say: when in doubt, gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss.

“Oh?” Zoro said, cocking his head to the side, “Why do you say that?” He said it as if she was insane, as if she hadn’t seen their fights herself, as if they weren’t literally known for their arguments with each other. He said it like it was completely and entirely natural for them to be like this now. It helped that Sanji hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t given a single physical sign that this wasn’t exactly what they usually did. He made it seem like he was perfectly comfortable being held close to Zoro’s chest. That it was where he belonged.

They had even, in fact, gone a whole five minutes without arguing.

Alice’s mouth opened and closed for a minute, her mind clearly trying to calculate and recalculate this encounter, but the numbers just didn’t seem to be adding up in her favor. Zoro almost pitied her, except that she had very much started it and brought all this upon herself.

Finally, she looked to her boy as if for some sort of support. All she found was that his attention was firmly on Zoro’s chest, eating up the eye candy readily. He even went as far as to lick his lips.

“Darek!” Alice scolded under her breath, scandalized, slapping his chest for attention.

“Ow!” Darek said, shocked out of whatever daydream he’d been having.

Zoro finally let himself give a toothy smile. He considered his damage officially done. Alice had clearly been knocked down a peg or two, and her little walking-wallet of a boyfriend had been reduced from oh-so successful businessman to just another ogler looking for the next pretty thing. This was a resounding victory.

Now for a victorious escape out of this situation as fast as possible.

“Come on, babe,” Zoro said, turning his head to nuzzle into Sanji’s hair. How did he always forget just how soft those golden strands were? “I’ve made you wait long enough. I owe you a date.”

Zoro smiled into the last sentence, making it sound like their “date” was the only thing on his mind. Like he’d been thinking all week long about getting to see the other, the thought being his lone reason to keep going day after day. Which couldn’t be farther from the truth, obviously. There had been absolutely zero percent of him that had put any emphasis on this little outing even once this past week. He hadn’t done laundry for the express purpose of having something he liked to wear, he hadn’t trimmed up his sideburns and played with different hair products all week, and he definitely was not currently wearing cologne. The smile was simply an affectation of the truth, just for the sake of the ruse. That’s it.

Before anyone had time to say anything more, Zoro gently ushered Sanji to turn away from the other couple. To his relief, Sanji went willingly.

“W-wha-hey! Wait a minute!” Alice blustered, stomping a foot.

“It was nice meeting you,” Zoro said, not even looking back at her, just waving his free hand slightly.

“I told you, we already met!” she fumed, but Zoro paid it absolutely no mind. He grinned like an absolute shark, amazed he was getting away with this.

“Wait!” She yelled again.

Then, she played dirty.

“Sanji,” she said, a whimper in her voice.

Sanji stopped dead in his tracks. Zoro did too, not wanting to have to actually drag the other. He closed his eyes and cursed in his head. They had been so close.

Sanji took a long drag off his cigarette. As he sucked in, the moment seemed to stretch out, becoming longer than it was before. Finally, he blew a long exhale, smoke leaving his mouth fluidly. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette, dropped it to the pavement, and ground it out with his toe.

Zoro didn’t look at his face. He didn’t want to see even an ounce of hurt from such a stupid, shallow, nobody of a girl. It was so ridiculous for someone like that to make someone like Sanji feel anything at all, let alone pain. It made bile rise in Zoro’s throat and blood rush in his ears, but he kept his cool. He’d tried his rescue strategy. This was now nothing but Sanji’s fight.

Sanji turned his head over their shoulders. Zoro expected whimpering or pitiful noises, or maybe simply his standard gushing. Assurances that Alice still lived in his heart, that she always would. He’d tell her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world, that nobody could compare, that he would never want anyone else more than he wanted her. Zoro felt an unusual nausea in his gut.

“It was good to see you, Alice!” Sanji called brightly, his tone clear of any whining or gooeyness, much to Zoro’s surprise. No hurt? No presentation of wounds? No flattery? No begging?

“I’m glad you’re doing well.” Zoro was nearly in shock; Sanji sounded completely genuine. Did he… get over her? Just now? In this moment?

He hazarded a look at Sanji’s face and found a brilliantly beaming smile that reached his clear blue eyes. It was a smile that could put a thousand suns to shame, a smile that could launch a thousand ships, a smile worth the world over in gold and then some. Somehow, Sanji was really, truly happy.

Something inside Zoro absolutely melted and something else bloomed warm in his chest.

Before Zoro could even start to think about processing that, Sanji turned to him, and he was simply lost. For a brief second that stretched into minutes, days, years even, nothing else existed but him and Sanji and Sanji’s blue eyes shining back at him. He wanted nothing more than to kiss the beautiful man in front of him.

Then Sanji spoke, and Zoro forced himself out of that moment. Back to reality. Again, when had he left? He couldn’t recall.

“Come on, then, dearest,” Sanji jeered, his eyes now gleaming mischievously and smile saccharine sweet as he prodded. Zoro cognitively knew that he was always annoyed by that expression yet couldn’t seem to summon up the actual feeling of being annoyed. “I believe you promised me shopping?” Zoro felt a hand slip into the far back pocket of his jeans.

Now they really did look like a disgustingly lovey-dovey honeymoon-stage couple out for a date. Sanji gave his ass a teasing squeeze, snickering as Zoro felt his whole face grow red hot. Who had initiated the touching again? It couldn’t possibly have been him. This was far too intimate for him to have started, surely.

Zoro gulped heavily and remembered that he had a part to play here. He once again ushered them forward down the street. The last thing he heard from the girl – her name already returning to a blank spot in Zoro’s mind – was her yelling at her boyfriend to get his jaw off the ground and stop drooling already.

Zoro let Sanji lead them down a couple blocks, dazed and distracted. During the whole encounter he’d kept himself perfectly calm, but now that it was over his heart was beating hard in his chest. He replayed the whole scene in his head, impossibly surprised that it actually worked. How in the hell had it actually worked? How had they passed so easily for an actual couple?

Zoro was still wondering at how miraculous their success was when Sanji broke his concentration.

“Hey, Zoro,” Sanji said, casually as can be, leading them down some sort of alley between buildings.

“Yeah?” Zoro grunted, freshly shaken from his thoughts.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“What do you want, shit cook?”

“Well, would you mind ever so terribly-“ Suddenly, a foot came flying at his face and Zoro was too startled to block it in time, “-GETTING YOUR BIG, DUMB GORILLA HANDS OFF OF ME!”

Zoro went flying into the wall of the alley, back hitting with a sharp snap of pain. He was fine, though, nothing he couldn’t brush off.

“What the hell was that for?” Zoro scowled. He peaked at the wall behind him; the brick was only cracked a little, just barely resembling the outline of a person. Nothing identifying, so it was fine.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Sanji sneered, adjusting the collar of his button-up and dusting off his pants as if the mere presence of Zoro in his bubble was sullying.

“Heh, I can think of a few times you’ve liked me touching you just fine,” Zoro retorted, wiggling his brows suggestively.

“You’re such a pervert,” Sanji said with disgust.

“You’re one to talk, love cook, swooning after a girl with her boyfriend literally right next to her.” Zoro swiped his thumb under his nose, checking for blood and finding none. Nothing seemed broken, that was good.

“Hey!” Sanji protested, looking angry. Had Zoro gone to far with bringing it up already? He knew the situation wasn’t exactly typical. Still, the whole thing still kind of pissed him off, so why shouldn’t he talk about it? “I didn’t ask for your help back there!”

“Oh?” Zoro asked, a smirk coming to his face, “So you admit that what I did was helpful?”

Sanji’s face grew red, frustration and agitation clear. “Oh, go die in a hole, you moron.”

“Whatever,” Zoro shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, and leaning against the cracked brick coolly, “I was just pissed off, that’s all.”

“You?” Sanji asked condescendingly, “What the hell did you have to be pissed off about?”

“Don’t like that girl, is all,” Zoro answered plainly, closing his eyes as he relaxed, his heart rate finally dropping back to normal after all the excitement. The physical distance from Sanji and the sting of pain had broken his strange headspace. He was feeling like his usual self again, now. No weird, overly emotional thoughts swirling around. “Didn’t like her when you talked about her, didn’t like her when you brought her around, and I didn’t like her when I saw her just now, either.”

Zoro could feel Sanji study him for a moment, as if trying to decide if he bought that. “And what exactly has she done to you to make you hate her so much?”

Zoro huffed, rather done with the interrogation despite it hardly having begun. “I just can’t stand her attitude, that’s all. She’s so holier-than-thou, and then goes around parading herself like she’s the best thing since sliced bread.” The nerve of that girl, honestly. Zoro worked up a little mucus in his mouth and spit at the ground. “She thinks she can just waltz around hurting people to make herself feel better. Pisses me off.”

“Hey, you can’t say that about a beautiful lady!”

“Oh, piss off,” Zoro said, rolling his eyes, “First of all as far as I could tell she wasn’t even that good looking, average at best.” He will fully admit to his radar being finely attuned to men only, though, so maybe he’s wrong, but she really didn’t seem like anything special to him. “And secondly you never would have taken that kind of crap from a guy. You would have kicked him to the moon and back the second he tried that shit. But with her, and every other woman ever, you let her walk all over you. Not exactly a good idea when the girl’s a grade-A bitch.”

They stood there in that alley for a long moment, Sanji just watching Zoro and Zoro just watching him back. They both knew he was right.

“Tch,” Sanji spat at length, “I was raised a ladies’ man, and that’s just how it is.” Zoro knew that, too. This wouldn’t change anything. He doesn’t know how it happened, but somehow that behavior just got hard coded into Sanji. It was fine except that it was annoying and opened him up so easily to those who would misuse his kindness. There weren’t many of Sanji’s exes that Zoro didn’t outright hate, now that he thought about it, and certainly none that he properly liked. Maybe that was why.

“And anyway,” Sanji cut in, breaking Zoro’s wandering thoughts, “Why the hell do you care how I’m treated anyway?”

What? Did he say that? No way he’d said that. “I don’t!” He didn’t! Zoro felt his face grow hot, which didn’t make any sense. This was stupid. “I-It’s just the principal of the matter, is all!”

“Oh really?” Sanji asked, clearly unconvinced.

“Shut the hell up, bastard,” Zoro snapped, now really well and truly done with this whole affair. He took a breath, cooling himself down. Sanji always got him so worked up it was stupid. “Whatever, believe whatever the hell you want, I already told you the truth. She was a cunt and that’s all there is to it.”

The words clearly ticked Sanji off, but that was good, got him distracted from whatever bullshit he was spewing about Zoro caring about him or something. Idiot.

“You know, you could really do with learning some good manners towards ladies.” Sanji scowled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zoro said, waving off the idea for the billionth time. “Last time I treated a girl any differently she caved my head in with a stick. Won’t be making that mistake twice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanji asked, making a dumb face as if Zoro had said some sort of convoluted metaphor.

“Forget about it,” Zoro dismissed, having not intended to bring Kuina into this. He shoved off the wall and decided it was time to get out of this alley and back to what they came here for.

“Whatever,” Sanji said, rolling his eyes, apparently too done with Zoro to bother to pry.

Zoro walked until he was passing Sanji by, heading toward the mouth of the alley. Sanji stood silently, looking like he was thinking about something.

Just as he passed, Sanji said something quietly, “She really was a bit mean, wasn’t she?”

Zoro stopped there, just in front of the other. He didn’t get it. He didn’t know why Sanji was like this. Why was it so impossibly hard for him to admit when a woman was bad to him? So inconceivable to fight back? It made Zoro so impossibly upset sometimes. But here he was with this one little admittance. This one time this one woman was a bit mean to him. Zoro shouldn’t shoot this down. He couldn’t bring himself to if he wanted.

“Yeah,” Zoro huffed, a bit of a smile playing on his lips with the magnitude of the understatement. “And stupid too,” he added.

“Stupid?” Sanji asked, hackles raised all over again, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Sheesh, isn’t it obvious?” Zoro asked, huffing a short laugh through his nose, “First she dates you, which already brands her as an idiot –“

“Hey!”

“- And then she brings around that chump as if he’s supposed to somehow make you jealous. Seriously, as if he’d ever hold a candle to you.” What a joke.

Sanji didn’t say anything to that, and Zoro looked back curiously.

Sanji was just staring at him, eyes a little wide and face dusted pink. “Hah?” Zoro questioned, one eyebrow quirked. “What, did I say something wrong?”

Sanji looked at him for a moment longer, the silence stretching between them yet carrying surprisingly little tension. Finally, Sanji seemed to shake himself out of it. “It’s nothing, moss-for-brains. And get out of my way,” he said, shoving Zoro by the face.

“Hey! Cut it out!” Zoro yelled, shoving Sanji’s hand off his face.

“Ah, deal with it, grass-head,” Sanji said, pulling out a cigarette and his lighter, “Let’s find whatever the hell kind of present Luffy would want already.”

Zoro grumbled but followed along, ready to get this errand over with and the weird events of ten minutes ago behind him. This event would be receiving absolutely no post-facto analysis. There wasn’t a single thought, feeling, or action that needed a second look at or processing time to rectify with his current world view, and he was eager to put it all out of his head.

“And hey,” Sanji said. Zoro sighed inward, sure this was going to be something weird about the thing that just happened, “Thanks.”

Yup. Weird. Weird, weird, weird. It was so weird for Sanji to thank him, he almost hated it. He did hate it. He absolutely definitely hated it. That must be what the rosy feeling in his chest was: hate for how weird it was.

“Yeah, well, you know,” Zoro said, shrugging the whole ordeal off as they did with almost everything that’s happened between them, “Don’t mention it.”

This, as so much else, would be their little secret.

A comfortable silence rested between them as they each took a moment to breathe.

“By the way, are you wearing cologne?”

“IN YOUR DREAMS!”

#one piece #zosan #sanzo #zoro/sanji #sanji/zoro #zoroxsanji #sanjixzoro #fake dating #my writing #fanfiction

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mormonmonastery · 3 years

Note

(Venting anon. TW for mentions of homophobic violence as well) I just… I haven’t been active for more than a couple weeks at a time for four years now, and I wasn’t expecting to be hit this hard. But it really hurts! The gun imagery hurts when last weekend a lesbian couple were shot and killed in Moab! For the first time in ages today I walked around in public feeling like someone was going to see the gay on me and shout me down for it. The more things like this happen, the more I want to just sever myself from the whole thing. I don’t observe any of the rules anymore, and I have no clue what I think about God, aside from feeling like His chosen left me behind. But I don’t quite have the nerve to properly get my name removed. Plus new roommates moved in for the new school year and I have no idea how they’ll be about me being gay, so I’ve been avoiding being home all day because I keep tearing up over it and AHHH 😭

I feel a deep sympathy for how you're feeling, despite not really being able to imagine just how awful it feels to be attacked like this. I'm sorry that you're stuck feeling this stress and that one man's cruel and irresponsible language still impacts you even after you've taken some steps back from the church for your own comfort, health, and safety. That's really the important response. All that follows are reactions that your message sparked in me and which you can take and leave as you see fit.

I'm hoping that, because it was an address only delivered to BYU faculty instead of something like a conference talk or a devotional, that this will end up being a relatively small ripple in the discourse pond for most average Mormons; that at most they'll hear a few rumblings about it before moving on and that we won't see it pointed to as a justification for more hate or violence. I don't know how well that hope is placed. And even if its harm is confined to BYU...that's still a large population of people placed at greater risk. Even what you tell me already about feeling less safe just existing in public is enough to damn anyone who prompted that fear while claiming to speak in the name of God.

I believe what the New Testament writer said when they wrote that God has not given us a spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). Because of that, I don't think anyone who use their power to create fear is speaking with any of God's spirit in them for as long as they persist in fearmongering and the perpetuation of hatreds. I believe that if there is a time when Elder Holland stands before Christ at the judgement day, he'll have to understand and accept responsibility for the exact fear his words caused you to feel and for the miscarriage of his stewardship in saying them. I don't usually like so baldly saying that God will prove someone else wrong; it's a card that's usually best left unplayed and I think it a mean thing to make God into your cudgel. But, frankly, I would not want anything to do with a God who would not outright condemn this kind of speech, who would stoop to the small and petty level that endorsing it would mean. I choose not to believe in any God like that because they have no continuity with the God I have encountered; if such a cruel God somehow turns out to exist, I would rather walk backwards into hell.

It strikes me as grievously irresponsible to reprise Neal Maxwell's whole "musket and trowel" metaphor to compare continuing to persecute LGBT+ people with a historic instance of Mormon persecution, particularly when DezNat is a thing that exists. I honestly don't know how intentional that was, but I also think that if Holland was intending to wink at DezNat he couldn't have found a quote that would be better at achieving that if he tried. I'm sick and weary of even metaphorical violence and I long for the prince of peace. I don't know anything about the couple shot in Moab, but it does indicate the preponderance of violence in our society and the persistence of violence against queer people specifically—which makes telling people to aim their metaphorical muskets at anyone a rhetorical flourish that is distasteful at best and even worse in this context.

I agree with the Latin American liberation theologians that, while God loves all of their children unconditionally, they have a "preferential option" for the poor (literally and in spirit) and the marginalized. I believe you're God's chosen at least as much, and quite arguably more than, any church leader, so long as you wish to claim God's preference or believe a God exists in that way.

It is sad to feel left behind by church leaders but, at least for me, the larger sensation is this sadness from the other direction. It's sad to realize that a man like Jeffrey Holland, who I have received inspiration and comfort from hearing in the past and who I feel like God has been able to use as a messenger for me at times—it's simply sad to see him refuse to move past an attitude and set of beliefs that I can see as so clearly unchristlike and to mistake them for a unique and essential aspect of Christ's gospel. I want to have charity for my brothers and sisters who I see as being stuck there but it's hard—I feel overwhelmingly sad and frustrated and impatient and remorseful about them and it is hard to alchemize those feelings into charity. It's sad for me to feel like, if I'm to continue to grow spiritually and ethically, I might very well have to leave behind this person whose words have at times been an aid to my own spiritual growth. I think that's why my reaction and the reaction of others has been to feel a little more hurt and a little more betrayed than whenever the general authorities who are more frequent purveyors of homophobia deliver this kind of talk—they rarely gave up that kind of talk long enough to inspire me. Of course I knew or intuited on an intellectual level that Holland wasn't significantly better or more enlightened on these issues, but it feels different to see it displayed publicly like this. And it's sad to me to see people I like and respected on the other side what seems to be an ever-widening and impassable gulf in how we understand who the God that has revealed themselves to us is and what their character is like. I cannot believe that God could bring about or observe a situation in which two people were capable of sincere, consensual, and committed love for each other and then condemn them for living in that love and promise to erase their capacity for that love in the resurrection. Apparently, Jeffery Holland can believe that and believe it quite strongly. It's sad for me to realize that about him and about so many other people in the church like him.

#as you can see. this is also my own vent.

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sparklingpax · 3 years

Text

Hi everyone, the other day I had a Thought™

And decided to write a whole drabble to go with it 😅✨ I'm eventually gonna include it in That Fic I'm writing 😳 but for now, it's a standalone drabble 😅💫💕

Apologies for grammar mistakes or anything else weird....I wrote it entirely on a whim ✨

///

"Waverider," Hawk's voice came from behind. The pretender jumped and laughed nervously, turning around slowly.

"W-why, hello there, leader..." he touched the back of his head gingerly. "And er....what might you be doing on this fine day? Out--out here with--"

"Waverider," Hawk repeated gravely, eyes seeming to spark with a just-barely contained rage.

The blonde knew exactly what this was about.

He had guessed Hawk would not be too pleased--after all, kids driving a vehicle was a dangerous idea in the first place.

The water-based Autobot swallowed.

He had not, however, anticipated Hawk would actually come down to the port area to reprimand him.

Hawk sure is scary when he's mad...and he doesn't get genuinely mad too often....boy I've messed up, haven't I?

He took a deep breath and stood straight, opting to try and defend his case.

"What's the big deal, Hawk? They can drive their cars--and--" he fished for a reason, glancing out to the waves in the distance, where the kids probably were. "--they were really good in training today! Minerva and Cab have improved....and they asked so nicely....I thought: 'why not?'"

"'W-why not'?!" Hawk echoed, placing his hands on his hips. "That doesn't matter! They should still be training or returned home for dinner!! I remember saying specifically that was the only thing they were to be brought out here for!!"

"What?"

"Training!!" He snapped.

Hawk also didn't like when people skipped out on his home-cooked meals, Waverider remembered, grimacing internally.

"Well--I thought different! Besides, aren't I the one who's doing all the training?!" Waverider fired back, though he was maybe only a tenth as annoyed as his leader. Hawk narrowed his eyes and leaned in close to his face. Waverider didn't flinch this time.

On the inside, he was a bit intimidated, but he maintained his calm demeanor. Generally, Waverider was not one to enjoy conflict.

But all that aside, both of them knew this reaction came from a place of caring and worry for the kids.

Hawk made a noise of frustration, then rubbed his temples, annoyed. He turned away, folding his arms.

"In any case, just....radio them to come back," Hawk said, sighing. He stared out over the waves. The sun was beginning to set, though the sky remained its clear blue for now, with only a light hue of gold mixed in there. Waverider nodded curtly and reached for his radio, then flinched at a sudden realization.

Now he was scared.

"Er....Hawk?" He started cautiously. His leader turned sharply, knowing that tone.

"What is it?" His eyes sparked with worry.

"Aha.....you see..."

"Waverider!!"

"I--I let them take the Recon stealth boat! The one....without the radio...."

Hawk blinked twice, then took a few steps closer to his teammate.

"You did what?!" Anyone could easily tell the man was absolutely pissed now.

"It was stupid, I know! I'm sorry!"

"Why would you let them take a boat in the first place?! I was under the impression you let them go on a kayak!! But--the recon boat?! THAT WE USE FOR ACTUAL STEALTH MISSIONS?!"

"Well--" Waverider cut in, thinking to defend himself. He broke off instantly, thinking again when he realized talking more would just make Hawk more annoyed. And this time, he was in the wrong.

Hawk made an exasperated noise. He wasn't done.

"Listen, aside from their transtectors, you are aware none of them can drive?!" Waverider looked away, ashamed.

He hadn't quite...thought of it like that.

Ironically, even though I've spent centuries on this planet, I somehow still fail understanding the simpler stuff. Such as, kids don't learn to drive when they're 12. How the hell did I forget that?

Wordlessly, he decided his next course of action. Hawk seemed to know it too.

He stood back, folding his arms again. His jaw visibly tensed, as if to bite back any other scathing words.

He didn't want to get too carried away....in fact, he felt a small pang of regret for yelling at Waverider just now....the blonde had only meant well.

After all, Hawk thought to himself, watching his teammate transform. It's a peaceful day and there hasn't been Decepticon activity in weeks. Surely they wouldn't be injured or in danger.....still.....

He gazed out over the waters again.

Now, the sky's golden tone had deepened, with a hint of pink and orange mixed in, too.

The waters sparkled with the reflection of that dusk sunset gold.

Waves calmly lapped against each other.

Meanwhile, Waverider dove into the water, transforming and speeding off to where the calm seemed to be disrupted in the distance.

Hawk sighed.

He turned away after a moment and leaned against the edge of the rails, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

At this rate, dinner will be stone-cold....he opened his eyes and stared at the sky again.

But at least everyone's safe.

///

Well, the kids were safe, but not doing too well with that boat.

At this point, all three of them were regretting taking the vehicle....and their lunch from a few hours ago.

Oh, and not listening to Waverider when he had been trying to give them a crash course on how the boat functioned.

Because evidently, that had not been the smartest decision.

Shuta just barely held onto the wheel, attempting to steer it.

Cab and Minerva were wailing and begging the boy to figure out how to stop the boat, to which Shuta shouted back that he didn't know, didn't remember, and then indignantly added that Cab should "be more manly and try to help out."

"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE, SHUTA, BEING A MAN ISN'T IMPORTANT!!!" He cried back.

"JUST SHUT UP!!"

"YES IT IS, YOU WHIMP!!"

"YOU'RE THE WHIMP, NOT ME!!!"

"AM NOT!"

"YOU SHUT UP!!"

"BOTH OF YOU, CUT IT OUT OR--"

And then the boat made another sharp turn as Shuta tried to steer it, and all three of them screamed for their dear lives again.

Then, as if an angel sent by the heavens, Shuta caught sight of a familiar color scheme riding the waters at high speeds, heading for them....

"Waverider!!" He exclaimed softly, then was thrown against the side of the boat as it jerked to the left and veered away from their Autobot guardian.

Now, the boat was out of control, and the kids were completely at its mercy.

"HELP!!!" Cab shrieked, covering his ears and pressing his body against the edge of the boat. Minerva gave an accompanying cry of distress, followed by Shuta repeating Cab's call for help.

"Don't worry, kids!" Came the friendly Autobot's voice. It drew closer as he spoke. "That boat has a remote switch my systems are connected to. Here, let me show you!"

And as soon as he'd said that, the kids were lurched against the other side of the boat as the control panel gave a sharp beep and the vehicle came to an abrupt stop.

As if nothing had happened, the recon boat bobbed gently up and down where it floated in the sparkling waters.

The Cybertronian sea-skimmer came to a smooth halt next to the boat.

"Alright, you guys," he popped open the top of his vehicle. "In you go."

No one spoke for a while, and Waverider let the kids keep their silence as they shakily climbed out of the boat and into the seats of his vehicle mode.

Waverider felt even more guilty with every passing second.

Silently, he vowed to himself that he would not let Hawk reprimand them. This was his fault, not theirs.

They didn't know, and even if they had been listening to him, there's no way a couple of kids could figure out how to drive a boat in five minutes and with no experience.

At last, Minerva spoke up.

"Thank you for saving us, Waverider-san. We were foolish to ignore your instructions, and we apologize...thanks to you we're safe."

"Yeah, we're real sorry," Shuta agreed sullenly. Next to him, Cab nodded with a small noise.

The pretender gave a short chuckle. "No problem! And...don't worry, it's not your fault, guys," he sighed, sounding a little sad. "It's mine. That wasn't very good judgement on my part..."

They all fell silent again.

"Hey, Waverider?"

"Yes, Cab?"

"....What's Hawk making for dinner?"

Shuta shoved his friend, the beginnings of a playful smirk twisting his lips. "Oh you!"

Cab shoved him back. "What?!"

"You're always thinking about food!!"

"So?!"

Shuta simply started laughing.

Minerva stared at them, blinking, then began laughing too. Waverider shared the laughter a little himself.

"Alright, I guess I'll hurry home then!" He said, feigning urgency. "I don't want to keep the venerable Prince of Karin waiting, now do I?"

They were all laughing now.

After that, all the way home, the kids were chattering again, amongst themselves and with Waverider.

As it turned out, the day wasn't as ruined as they'd thought it would be.

///

lmao thanks for reading that aaaa I just. Wanted some Masterforce content. And some inspiration to continue "Clear & Cloudy" 😅😹✨

so anyway, have a wonderful day and I hope you like this~

aLSO WATCH SUPER GOD MASTERFORCE PLS AND THANKS

✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

June Contest Submission #22: Left in the Dark

Words: ca. 4,000 Setting: Modern AU, Airport Lemon: No CW: None

A flash of lightning brightens the whole sky once more. Four seconds later, the low rumbling of thunder pierces the pattering sounds of rain hitting the large windows of the airport. The glass is working especially hard today to keep the raging storm at bay, and it doubles as the only source of light in this massive blackout.

Elsa presses her palm against the cold glass. All around her, people are expressing their fear over how long this blackout will last, calling loved ones to tell them their flights have been delayed, or are meeting this darkness with great indifference. She envies all these people, wishing she could feel something that isn’t gut-wrenching guilt.

When she pulls her hand away from the glass, her imprint from the condensation trickles and fades moments later. The last update they received before the power went out was that the weather conditions would be keeping all planes grounded for at least four hours. If people chose to catch a flight tomorrow instead, they’d be reimbursed for the inconvenience.

A lot of people chose that option, but Elsa decided to wait. She didn’t want to spend any more time in Denver than she needed to.

An hour later, when the power went out, everyone including Elsa who decided to stick around began wondering if they made the right choice. She jumps as she feels the phone in her back pocket vibrate. Hesitantly, she pulls it out and is relieved to see that it’s just a message from her mother, telling Elsa to be safe no matter what she chooses to do.

It’s not like she’s stranded in unknown territory, she still has a couple of friends from college in the city who might let her stay over for a night. And if that fails, she has enough money for an Uber ride and a hotel room. But the stormy skies aren’t the only dark clouds in Denver that she wants to leave behind, so it looks like she’s staying.

Air traffic workers outside are desperately setting up flares and other alternate sources of light on the airfield, and no doubt the airport’s technicians are working to get at least the backup power working. They won’t stay in darkness for too long, she hopes, even if it feels somewhat calming at this moment. But what else can she do to pass the time for the next few hours? Text her friends and hope they’re up for a three-hour conversation? Edit her resume? Take a nap while snuggling her backpack and duffle bag to keep anything from being stolen?

“Wow,” she says, speaking her first word since yesterday. “My life really is just one big pile of nothing, huh?”

Her existential crisis is interrupted by the gentle plucking of guitar strings that cuts through the torrential silence. It’s familiarity compels Elsa to grab her things and find the source of the melody, and though her hearing is heightened by the darkness, she uses her phone’s flashlight to guide her way so she doesn’t step on anyone. The guitar strings guide her along and bring her closer before they’re accompanied by another sound: a sweet, gentle voice comfortably singing the lyrics to the song.

Ooh thinkin about all our younger years There was only you and me We were young and wild and free

The girl singing it sounds far too young for the lyrics to pertain to her, and yet her alto voice still carries a reminiscent feel to what she’s saying. Elsa follows the secret siren up to the aisle she thinks she’s sitting in, just as the girl reaches the chorus. Though she keeps her voice down to a near whisper, Elsa can’t help but sing along as well.

Baby you’re all that I want when you’re lying here in my arms I’m finding it hard to believe we’re in Heaven

However, the music stops before the chorus ends and Elsa is left singing the last three words by herself. She purses her lips, mortified, taking a step back just in case she’s told to get lost.

“Why’d you stop singing? Your voice is really pretty.”

Now, Elsa’s even more embarrassed. She has enough common sense to realize the voice asking that question is the same voice that brought her here, but not enough to keep from shining her phone’s flashlight on her. Fortunately, the light only gets up to the girl’s chest before Elsa yelps and turns it off. Which isn't that much better, but she’ll take any victory she can get right now.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you heard me,” Elsa replies.

The girl chuckles, “Was I not supposed to hear you?”

“No, I mean I don’t know, I-I…” Elsa sighs, “I was embarrassed, I guess.”

“Well how about you stop being embarrassed and sit down?” It’s such a gentle command that Elsa doesn’t realize she could have said no until she’s used her phone’s flashlight to find an open seat right next to the mystery guitar girl. “So are you a big Bryan Adams fan or do you just know that one song?”

Darkness paints the corner they’re in and keeps Elsa from getting a good sense of who she’s talking to. It makes for one of the most interesting conversations she’s ever had. “Oh, I only know a couple of his songs, but I wouldn’t say I’m like a huge fan. A-are you?”

“Not really, but I’m a sucker for those classic love ballads, you know?”

Elsa nods before realizing she’s not going to see that. “Yeah, I know.”

She hears the woman adjust in her chair and the guitar strings squeak as she runs her fingers along the frets. “Alright, let’s see if you know this one.”

Before Elsa can ask what she’s doing, there’s a gentle yet deliberate strumming of the guitar strings unlike the soft fingerpicking from before. And once again, the woman begins to sing a song that Elsa’s quick to recognize.

And I’d give up forever to touch you Cause I know that you feel me somehow You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be and I don’t want to go home right now

“I know this song too,” Elsa interjects with more excitement in her voice than she’s expecting. “It’s by the Goo Goo Dolls, right?”

The woman stops her singing, much to Elsa’s unexpected disappointment. “That’s right, Iris.”

“A-actually my name’s Elsa.”

“What?”

“Hmm?” Elsa cringes, realizing her mistake. “Oh gosh, you weren’t calling me…you were saying the name…of the song.”

She prepares herself for the laughter, but it never comes. “Elsa, huh? That’s a really pretty name, I like it.”

“You do? I- wow, that’s…I mean, thank you. For that.” This is so strange, she’s usually much better at talking than this, she has a degree in it for goodness sakes. But there’s something that’s keeping her tongue-tied and ruining her common sense. Maybe this woman really is a siren. “I’m from Rhode Island.”

“Elsa from Rhode Island,” the woman says like she’s trying to make sense of those words in that order. “Well you’ve got a very pretty voice, Elsa. My name is Anna. From Arizona.”

Anna. The name fits, even though Elsa doesn’t actually know anything about her, not even what she looks like. “Nice to meet you, Anna from Arizona.” Though they’re in the dark, Elsa can feel that Anna’s smiling at her. Maybe because Elsa’s smiling too.

“Alright, you’ve established your knowledge of the oldies…” Anna begins to strum a soft, basic chord progression. “Let’s see if you know something a little more modern.”

Elsa’s not a music expert in the slightest but she still listens intently, if only to hear more of Anna’s beautiful voice. When she begins to sing, they’re lyrics that Elsa doesn’t recognize.

I hear the beast, its awful cry, but never see its face I feel the water coming down, it’s keeping me in place And in this stormy weather, though I should be so afraid I’m with the one who makes it fade away

Anna continues to sing, and Elsa is torn because she doesn’t know what this song is but she feels like she should. The voice accompanying the words make them sound much more beautiful and earnest, but the song is unrecognizable. When Anna begins to hum instead of sing, Elsa admits defeat. “I-I think you win, I’m not sure what this song is.”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” Anna says, abruptly ending the song. “Because it’s one of mine.”

Elsa gasps, “Not fair.”

She can sense the victorious grin on Anna’s face. “Hey, it’s a modern song. I started writing it today actually, well okay maybe writing isn’t the best word for it.”

“You wrote that today?” Elsa asks. “Have you written any other songs?”

“Yeah I’ve written a few, some of them are actually pretty good too, I think: Whenever I’ve got something in my head, I pick up my guitar and record my thoughts. I’m not trying to be the next Taylor Swift or something, but it…yeah it helps.”

A flash of lightning paints the windows and illuminates Anna’s silhouette for a moment, not long enough or bright enough to see any details other than the shape of her hair. It surprises Elsa when she realizes just how much she wants to see what Anna looks like. A minute ago, she didn’t even know this woman existed and now she finds herself considering the stupid idea of shining her phone’s flashlight on Anna’s face. Because nothing says “good impression” like blinding someone.

Another realization hits her, though it’s more of an unhelpful observation: Has it really been so long since she’s been attracted to someone that she’s falling for a random woman at the airport with a beautiful voice and nice…manners? Pathetic, she doesn’t actually know anything about Anna other than she writes songs and is from Arizona.

Hoping to at least remedy that, she searches her mind for something to ask. Something casual but informative. But Anna beats her to it.

“So Elsa from Rhode Island, you’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”

Elsa nods out of habit as thunder roars outside the airport walls, “Uh y-yeah, just a little bit yeah. And you’re…not that far from home, Anna from Arizona.”

Anna giggles like Elsa said something funny. “No, well not yet. I’m actually going to New Jersey and figured I’d save some money by taking a couple of connected flights instead of flying straight there. My parents are renewing their vows and of course they want me to be there for the ceremony. Remember that song I was singing? Heaven? That’s actually their song and I’m gonna surprise them by playing it.”

“That’s really sweet,” Elsa replies, relieved that she bit her tongue before making a joke about New Jersey. She hears a tap on hollow wood and the squeak of guitar strings as Anna slides her hand across them. She eagerly anticipates another song, but instead she gets another question.

“What about you? Any vow renewals waiting for you in Rhode Island?”

Elsa giggles, but it’s not as pretty or confident as her companion’s. “Ah no, there’s nothing…waiting for me back home.” Wow, that answer was much more depressing than she wanted it to be. Even if it’s true. “Well I mean there’s my parents. And my apartment. I guess my job counts too but other than that, there’s nothing else.” She feels like she’s making things worse.

“Oh dear.” There’s a heaviness in Anna’s reply, but Elsa doesn’t hear any pity which she’s grateful for. No one should pity her for the life she’s chosen. “So why’d you come to Denver? It’s not exactly a top vacation destination right now. Unless you like rain.”

“I love rain,” Elsa replies far too excitedly, as if rain is like her favorite thing in the world. “But no, I didn’t come here for a vacation. I…I came here…”

“Hey.”

Elsa’s startled by a hand that lands first on her upper arm and then on her shoulder. It’s soft, gentle, and she hopes it belongs to Anna or else this is getting awkward.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with,” Anna continues. But that’s the thing, Elsa feels very comfortable around Anna and she can’t explain why. All she can do is see and now feel her, but there’s something about Anna that makes her feel safe and trusted. Moreso than even her therapist.

Elsa sighs, the heaviness of this weekend’s events once again piling on her, hoping this will help her let it go. “I came here to call off my engagement with my…with my ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s- gosh, I’m so sorry that must have been really hard.”

Elsa shakes her head. “Don’t be. You didn’t know.”

“I know, but in my mind I thought you were like running from the law or something.”

“I wouldn’t have told you my real name if that were the case.” And she definitely wouldn’t be out in such a public place for so long, blackout or not.

“Wait so Elsa’s really your name?”

“Yes?”

“Holy shit, that’s pretty. I bet you’re like secretly royalty, aren’t you?”

“Nope, I’m just boring Elsa from boring Rhode Island.”

“Oh please. Boring people don’t get engaged.”

“…”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it-it’s alright. The breakup doesn’t hurt as much as it should, it was a long time coming and I prepared myself for it. But it just happened, I’d feel bad joking about it so soon.”

Though talking with Anna helps, the darkness still plays with her perception. In her mind, she’s constantly playing back the exact moment she took off the ring and gave it back to Hans. She’s remembering the shock and anguish on her ex-fiancé’s face, like she’d just stabbed him in the gut. She hears on loop his last words of “Elsa, what can I do?”

And though the images are shocking, they don’t sting any more than being pinched on the arm.

“Still doesn’t give me the right to joke about it.” Anna sighs, and takes her hand off Elsa’s shoulder. It had been on there for so long that Elsa almost forgot about it, and now she’s disappointed that it’s gone. “I must seem like such a jerk.”

“No, you’re hilarious,” Elsa says truthfully. “I’m not offended, it’s…I got all the bad feelings out of the way a while ago. I only came to Denver to call things off because it’d seem insensitive to do it over the phone.”

“That’s noble of you.”

Elsa laughs pitifully, “No. I led him on in a long-distance relationship for months while I fell out of love with him. That’s not noble at all.” She feels a tingle along her shoulder, like something’s hovering above it. The feeling goes away a second later.

“You can’t do that to yourself, Elsa. You can’t put the whole burden of the breakup on yourself. I mean, what’s the reason you fell out of love with him in the first place?”

Oh that’s a long story that will take up the rest of the word limit. Elsa thinks about the important details, the ones worth sharing, and a silly, unhelpful thought flashes in her mind like the lightning that strikes once again: What would Anna think if she leaned on her shoulder right now? She shakes that thought away and starts with her pitiful monologue.

“We got engaged about a year ago, it was actually the last thing we did before I graduated from college and moved back to Rhode Island. He still had a year left, and the plan was that we’d get married once he graduated. But it’s like…I don’t know, it felt like I was two different people when I moved back. It’s like there’s ‘Elsa from Rhode Island’ who’s calm, quiet, and likes to draw and sing in the shower, and then there’s ‘Elsa from Denver’ who’s energetic and charming, and is always trying to cheer people up with kind words and stupid memes. And I wanted so badly for both of these Elsas to coexist, but the longer I was away from Denver and Hans, the more I realized how exhausting it was trying to be who I always used to be. And when I tried to be 'Elsa from Rhode Island’, Hans wouldn’t respond to that and think I was angry or something, so I had to flip the switch. It took a while to realize that I didn’t want to keep putting on that mask, and if Hans didn’t like who I really was, then…I couldn’t fix that. I cried and panicked and did all that other stuff when I finally decided to break up with him. So much so that when I finally did it, I had already moved on. Breaking up was just a formality, like signing my name on a piece of paper. Even so, I feel guilty for doing this to him and sometimes I wonder if I just wasn’t trying hard enough to be who I needed to be. It’s stressful to think about, and right now all I know is that…I don’t want to set foot in Denver ever again.”

After a long moment of silence, punctuated by the storm outside fighting to punch through the windows, Anna’s hand makes contact with Elsa again. This time on her wrist.

“Elsa…” she starts softly. “I don’t think he tried hard enough.”

Elsa raises an eyebrow, she’s heard this take from her parents and friends, but it hits a little more when Anna says it.

“I mean you weren’t in a relationship with yourself, right? He had to meet you halfway on stuff like this, especially if you’re going to commit the rest of your lives with each other. If he couldn’t accept who you are now, then what would things look like if you got married?”

“But people change in a relationship,” Elsa argues. “What if I was just scared to change? What if I was too comfortable with what was familiar and I was scared about doing something new?”

“Well, how much can change about yourself before you stop feeling like yourself?”

This is the first time anyone’s ever asked Elsa this question before, and it shuts her up quickly. All the while, Anna continues unfettered.

“I’m not trying to be your therapist, so I’m sorry if I cross the line anywhere. But I feel like…the best relationships are the ones where neither of you have to worry about what you look like to the other person. Like you have nothing to prove because you like yourself, and they make you feel comfortable with that. And I think if you get too caught up on the whole 'changing in a relationship’ thing, it means you’ve already lost sight of why you’re in a relationship in the first place. It’s not always about what you do for each other, but what you can do together. That’s…I mean I think that’s the beautiful part of being with someone you love. That you’re you, and that they’re them, and you’re yourselves doing stupid things like eating a grilled cheese sandwich on the balcony at 3 AM.”

Elsa’s so caught up in Anna’s wisdom that her silly joke catches her completely off-guard and she snorts, “What? Where’d that last part come from?”

Anna huffs, “Look, I really want a grilled cheese right now, okay?”

“Well, uh I think I might owe you one.”

“Really? For what?”

“For telling me what I needed to hear.” Boldness overtakes Elsa and she places her hand on top of Anna’s. Though the thunder roars and whines, Elsa swears she hears a hitching of breath. “You’re quite the love expert, Anna of Arizona.”

“Oh, uh…thank you? I don’t think I’m a love expert at all. I’ve never actually…”

She trails off, Elsa leans forward. “What was that?”

“I said I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

“Oh. Wow.” It sounds like Anna’s genuinely embarrassed by this, so Elsa reassures her. “Well, that sounds ridiculous.” Or at least she tries to.

Anna laughs, but in a way that you laugh when your parents are telling stories about dumb things you used to do as a kid. “You don’t have to do that. It’s my fault, I don’t put myself out there that much and it…I don’t know, I think I might be hard to love.”

Elsa gasps, “That can’t be true. I think anyone would be lucky to love you.”

“You don’t even know me,” Anna says in almost a whisper.

“I know enough. I know that you can sing and write songs. I know that you’re caring enough to comfort a total stranger on their breakup. I know that thunder storms don’t scare you.”

“I mean it’s just loud noises and rain,” Anna mumbles.

“And I know you have a beautiful voice. A beautiful mind. A beautiful heart.”

Anna doesn’t respond right away, but she does squeeze Elsa’s wrist in what she thinks is an expression of gratitude. The more they stray down this new path in their conversation, the harder it is to assume what Anna must be thinking. How she must be feeling. Elsa can only hope that she feels the comfort that Anna made her feel just a few short minutes ago.

She hears Anna take a breath like it’s something she’s forgotten to do. “You don’t know what I look like. I could be Medusa. Or a gross, alien thing.”

“I bet you’re a beautiful, gross, alien thing.”

That gets another laugh from Anna, this one with the joy and relief that Elsa was waiting for. “Well, I bet you’re a beautiful, gross, alien thing too.”

And that’s when Elsa feels it. That pull. The daring pull forward that she hasn’t felt in the longest time. In the dark, under stormy weather, and in the quiet of their secluded corner, Elsa admits to herself the bold attraction she feels for a woman she can’t even see. It’s exhilarating and terrifying, and the words she wants to say are on the tip of her tongue. The words “I think I want to kiss you” are ready to escape like a whisper.

But a flash of light hits wall to wall, brighter than the flashes of lightning from before, and interrupts all her thoughts. The airport is finally pulled out of its blackout, and the collective sigh of the remaining hopeful passengers rings through the corridor. Unattended luggage sits on dull, gray seats, people wake violently from their naps, and Anna-

Oh.

She can finally see Anna from Arizona.

She can see her large, forest green raincoat, her guitar on her lap with its polished rosewood and silver strings, her cane resting against her chair, her auburn-colored hair traveling down her shoulders, her freckles accenting her surprised expression…

And her milky, white eyes.

It catches Elsa so off-guard, that all she can do at first is sit up and blink. When words come back to her, she manages to stumble out a “Wow…”

Anna must sense the weight in Elsa’s reaction, and she shuts her eyes. “The lights came back on, didn’t they?”

“Y-yeah, I- they did. They finally did. I mean not finally, but…Anna-”

“No,” Anna interrupts, eyes shut painfully tight. “Please, you don’t have to say anything. I should have told you when we first started talking.”

“You didn’t have to, that’s not…I…this looks bad. Not look! Not- I’m sorry, I’m making you feel worse.”

“You’re not,” Anna protests, now ducking down to bury her face against her guitar. Through the covering, she says with gut-wrenching guilt, “I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, Anna, I'm not. I was just surprised.”

“But in a bad way, right?”

“No! Not in a bad way.”

“Ugh, I should have told you. But I was too busy being stupid and crushing on you, and I forgot to just give you a head’s up like 'Hey by the way, I’m blind and have zombie eyes, I hope that doesn’t scare you’. Stupid Anna, stupid stupid-”

Elsa puts her hands on Anna’s shoulders and says her name, which causes the rambling woman to gasp and stop talking. When she’s sure that Anna’s not going to freak out on her again, Elsa says, “Please lift your head up.”

With a little assurance from Elsa, Anna finally sits back up and her hands rest on her guitar.

“Please…open your eyes,” Elsa asks with her hands traveling down to rest on top of Anna’s.

Anna shakes her head, though thankfully her expression has softened and it doesn’t look like she has a massive headache. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“I’m not scared, Anna. And I won’t be. Just please open your eyes.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

After a deep breath, Anna cautiously opens her eyes again, accompanied by another thunder strike. Though Elsa barely registers that, her focus is completely on Anna and the nervousness she can still see through her cloudy irises. At this point, someone much more deep, profound, and better with words would say something that would make Anna’s heart soar. And Elsa’s thinking of what she’d say if she were that kind of person.

But she’s not that kind of person and that’s okay.

Elsa smiles for the both of them and says, “I told you. You’re beautiful.” Expectedly, thankfully, and earnestly, Anna smiles too.

#elsanna #submission #June 2021 contest #prompt: storm

16 notes · View notes

violetnotez · 4 years

Note

let's have more bois with pregnant s/os! 😂😂😂 Tamaki,Mirio,and Shinsou their reactions to finding out their gonna be daddies ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Omg yes anon, these boys would have the cutest reactions to finding out they got their s/o knocked up ❤️

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Hc: Pregnant S/O

Pairing: Tamaki x reader, Mirio x reader, Shinsou x reader

Also, I realized I should specify the ages of all the characters! Everyone will be aged up to like around 20-21 ☺️

————————

Tamaki

Tamaki has just finished patrolling for the day when he got a strange message from you, asking him to pick up some things from the market

That wasn’t particularly unusual, you would occasionally ask him to do so after work if he wasn’t too tired

But it seemed like you were trying to message someone else and not him-your message had asked “her” to grab “a lot of disposable cups”

You had also sent an image...Tamaki’s curiosity was too strong, his fingers clicking on the picuture instantly

His eyes gazed at the list, instantly recognizing the handwriting as your own. The list only had a few items, such as milk, flour, choclate...but then, at the very end, you had wrote something that truly threw his mind of out control

You wanted whoever you were texting to buy pregnancy tests

His anxiety instantly went through the roof-pregnany?! You thought you were pregnant?!? How long had you been thinking this?!? We’re you okay?!? Who was even with you getting you this stuff?!

He began to take a few deep breaths and focus his attention to calming his heart rate-something he had been practicing in order to control his anxiety

There had to be a simple explanation-maybe you were just helping a friend...maybe they were for Neijire and not for you...you had said she was going to be visiting you today

But then-you had mentioned your period was uncharacteristically late since it hadn’t came yet...and you two had been active recently-crap he needed to get home right now

Tamaki is usually a very cautious driver, but today, he was borderline speeding

He was just too wrapped up in his thoughts, trying to convince himself that it was all a misunderstanding, that you weren’t pregnant and it was just his anxiety making situations seem worse than what they were

He was itching to call you, but he was afraid of the answer you would give him-what if you did truly think your were pregnant?

he didn’t want to work himself up so badly that he wasn’t even able to drive-

no, he was going to wait to talk to you in person, that was the best thing to do

He came into the driveway, parking his car quickly, his duffel bag with his change of clothes and personal belongings long forgotten in the trunk

As he was walking up to the front steps, his mind racing, he heard none other than Neijri greet him from behind

“Oh Tamaki-san, your home from work quiet early! Slow day out there?” She chirped a little too cheerfully

Tamaki noticed the plastic bag in her hand, making him gulp-oh no, it had to be for you then

Neijire stood in front of him awkwardly, not knowing what to do

“It’s wonderful to see you, but um, Y/n-san is going through some things right now...she asked me to help her while you were out patrolling-she didn’t want to worry you prematurely...”

Neijire gave him a reassuring smile, handing him the bag

Poor Tamaki was shaking, his head hanging low-was it all true then? We’re you really thinking you were pregnant?

“Y/n-san will explain everything, but whatever happens-I hope you both are happy!” She grinned, giving Tamaki a quick hug and a cheerful goodbye as she jogged to her own car

Tamaki shakily opened the front door, too terrified to look in the bag

You came bounding down the hallway, your hair tied back loosely

“Neijire, I can’t thank you enough for- Tamaki!” You gasped slightly, not expecting to see him in front of you

You instantly ran to him, noticing how pale he looked-he honestly looked like he would pass out

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You asked, your voice full of concern as you took the bag gingerly from his hands, sitting him on the couch

“Is it true?” He asked quietly, his voice timid, “that-that you think your-“

You sighed, taking his hand in yours. You had realized too late that you had sent the message accidentally to him, too terrified of his reaction to call him after the mistake

“Well, yes, I think I might be-be pregnant...but I don’t know for sure...theres really only one way to find out.” You gave him a small smile, trying to be reassuring

you were freaking out on the inside, but after seeing Tamaki look so terrified, you knew you had to be the one who was strong for the both of you

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you apologized, your hand finding his, “ I didn’t mean to hide this from you, I just didn’t want to worry you unless I knew for sure,”

“I-It’s alright, I want to be here for you when you find out...I-it is potentially our child after all” he said quietly, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand

You gave him a quick kiss, smiling reassuringly as you let go of his hand, taking the bag Neijiri had gotten for you

“Well-lets go find out, shall we?”

Tamaki had waited outside the door as you went to the bathroom, coming in once you went to check the test

You were honestly too scared at that point to see, so you had asked him if he was up for checking it for you

He was terrified as well, but as he was waiting, he began to think about the situation-he wouldn’t mind having a child with you, he knew one day he wanted to settle down with you and make you his for the rest of his life

This would just be a step towards that, right? He loved you with all his heart, and couldn’t think of anybody else having a child with-apart of him was hoping for it to be positive, wanting nothing more to be a father to the life you two had potentially created

His hands were shaking as he took the test in his hands, seeing that there was two little lines, meaning you were, in fact, pregnant

Poor Tamaki’s emotions finally released, tears streaming down his face quietly as he hugged you close-you were so confused, but apart of you already knew the truth

You were now crying as well, both of you complete messes as you asked him repeatedly what the test said through hiccups

He just knelt down, kissing your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close

Mirio

It was a pretty normal day for Mirio-he got up, did his usual work out routine, and then got himself ready to go on a date with you later on in the day

You two had decided to go get lunch at a quiet little cafe not to far from both of your apartments-you had also told him you had something “important” to tell him, which also kinda got him excited to here your news

He was hoping it was something positive, because when you had told him this over the phone the night before, you sounded pretty nervous, but wouldn’t reveal any other details

He drove into the parking lot of the cafe, instantly recognizing your car in the parking lot, making him smile

He found you at your favorite booth, looking down at your phone, until you looked up and smiled as you saw him walking over

He loved your smile, it was always so bright and beautiful-but something about it was different today...you almost looked nervous

He doesn’t pay too much attention to it, you did say you had news for him after all, maybe you just had some jitters

“Hey, sunshine, how are you?” He asks cheerfully, bringing you into a tight hug

“Well that’s strange,” he thought-you usually always squeezed him super tight, but today you almost kept him at a distance, like it hurt to hug him

He pulled away, staring at your face in worry-“You doing alright, babe?”

You shrugged off his worry quickly, not wanting to bring attention to it-“Oh it’s nothing, just-well, my chest has been a little tender but it’s fine,”

He knew something more was wrong, but as much as he wanted you to say what it was, he knew you’d tell him in your own time

The rest of the date went as your dates usually always went, you both talking happily about your lives with Mirio making you laugh occasionally

He did notice some things were different about you-you seemed to be really cautious of what you ate, asking if anything had caffeine or excess salt in the food. Your face, even when you laughed, was always somehow knitted with nervousness

He also noticed that your chest had been looking a little larger-he didn’t mind at all, he loved your body no matter what it looked like, it was just-strange to him. You also would sometimes rub your hands on your stomach below the counter, thinking he wouldn’t be able to see

It was all so peculiar to him-it made him really wonder what was going on that was making you act so differently

He reached his hand across the table, placing his larger hand in yours

“So-what exactly did you want to tell me?” He gave you a bright, reassuring smile, his heart aching slightly when you looked down at your lap

You looked so scared-were you okay? He started to get nervous himself-maybe something terrible had happened, like you were sick, or hurt

He just wanted you to tell him-whatever was going on, you would get through it together

He gave you a reassuring squeeze on your hand-“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asked quietly, that bright smile still on his lips “Nothing you say is going to make me judge you or turn away from you-you can always trust me.”

He watched you take a deep breath, your ribs rattling slightly from the nerves

“Mirio-I-I...” you stuttered, “I’m pregnant-with your baby.”

Well SHIT HE DIDNT EXPECT THAT-

He may or may not have yelled out “Pregnant?!?” A little too loudly-he just wasn’t expecting that

After you shushed him to be a little more quiet, he lowered his voice some

“Whoa-pregnany-are-are you sure?”

You played with your fingers, the nerves still set in your system, “Yes, I-I has a feeling... some I may or may not have taken a whole box of tests a few days ago. And-and they all came back positive.”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, I just didn’t know how or when or where- it was just so sudden.”

“I know we didn’t talk much about starting a family, Mirio, but,” you asked timidly, his hands still in yours, “what do you think about it?”

Mirio sat quietly for a few moments-he knew this was a huge thing, bringing in a child into this world. It was true you two hadnt talked a lot about starting a family, it wasn’t on either of your minds since you two were so young. But, he loved you too much to walk away from you and his child-it would be completely wrong for him to do so. He didn’t want to either-he loved you and this child you two had created.

His rough thumb brushed the skin of your hand, the sensation soothing to your nerves

“It’s all your decision y/n, but I love you-and this child we created. I’m would be excited to be a father!”

Shinsou

Also I’m tired and I’m pretty sure I spelt him name wrong THE ENTIRE TIME IM SORRY

You were wrapped up in Shinso’s body, your legs intertwining with his

His body was warm and comforting, his heart beating strong in his chest

You felt yourself beginning to wake up, soft sunlight flitting through the curtains of the room

It didn’t help either that your leg and inner thighs were killing you-you and Shinso were active quite a lot, but last night had seemed to really become a toll on your body

You groaned, snuggling yourself closer to him-he was so comfortable and gentle when he was sleeping

Shinsou seemed to had woken up slightly too, his hands petting your bed tossled hair

“You doing alright doll?” He asked huskily, he voiced still sounding sleepy

“Yeah,” you sighed, snuggling closer to him, “just-sore.”

“Aww you poor thing-but I didn’t here you complaining last night though,”He chuckled, placing a kiss on top of your head

You pushed yourself up, making yourself able to look into his lavender eyes as you laid your head on his bare chest

“Well I didn’t say that,” you said, giving him a cheeky smirk- “Just you gotta be a little gentle-I still need to be able to walk the next day,”

“Wheres the fun in that, kitten? You look so pretty when your a mess under me...”

Your cheecks instantly turned a beet red, a small smile tugging at your lips

Even though Shinso was making you a blushing mess, you instantly felt an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, something you had been experiencing for a few weeks now

A burning sensation began to fill your throat, and to your horror, you felt yourself want to throw up

Shinso noticed your face pale as it turned from adorably embarrassed to terrfied

“Are you-“ he barely got out until you leaped off his body, stumbling to the bathroom

You barely got near the toilet before you began to empty the contents of your stomach into it

Shinso quickly followed you in, throwing on a pair of his boxers he had left on the floor from last night

His heart hurt hearing you sound so sick, your back heaving into the toilet-he softly grabbed your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your back

He was just so confused-you had seemed fine...you didn’t show any signs of being sick yesterday or last night-so why were you suddenly just throwing up like there was no tomorrow?

You finally had finished, laying your forehead on the cold seat

“What’s wrong doll-you okay?” He asked softly, brushing your hair with his fingers

You nodded numbly, feeling dehydrated and exhausted

“This has been happening-kinda a lot...” you croaked out, trying to clear the parch areas in your throat

Shinso stopped you from talking anymore, worried you would hurt yourself and went to go get you some water

He came back with a blanket and a bottle of water, you drinking in small sips as you sat on the blanket

“So-this is happening a lot, right?” He asked, watching to make sure the color came back to your face, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You nodded your head numbly- “I-I was scared to tell you...because-well-“ you sighed nervously, looking down at the floor-“I also missed my period last week.”

It took Shinso to let that information set in-you missed your period? Why the hell would that matter? But then he began to connect the dots...you two had sex quite a lot....you were having morning sickness...you didn’t get your period-oh shit

He states it very bluntly, but stutters slightly over his words-“Your-your pregnant?”

“I-I don’t know for sure Shinso...but I have a feeling, just everything adds up to that,”

He’ll curse under his breath, sitting for a second in silence-that was such a huge piece of information for him to process

A baby was a big deal-you two were bringing in a new life into this world...he would be lying if he didn’t say he was terrified. It wasn’t under the best timing, you two never discussed having a child so soon...but he loved you. It was as much his baby as it was yours, and he would never just walk out of yours and his potential child’s life just because he was too scared.

He would do anything for you-that included welcoming this new child into the world with you

“Okay, I believe you y/n,” he’ll finally say, his bright purple eyes boaring into yours, “we’re having a baby. Let’s figure this out together, alright, kitten?”

—————-

HOLY CRAP THIS TOOK FOREVER SORRY

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fluffymisha97 · 4 years

Text

C Evans Imagine

I wrote this little story earlier today mostly for fun. It's my first ever and probably also the last due to lack of ability and talent to make this kind. I'm probably best suited to read some of the amazing stories/imagines that you others write. Kudos to all of you great people.

I tried writing this strictly for fun and would like to apologize if it is not written completely correctly in terms of punctuation etc. My original language is not English and the last time I wrote a longer text in English was in high school meaning a few years ago now. So I hope that people will bear with me if someone decides to read this (which would be a miracle.)

Summary: Reader meeting Chris Evans at a party.

Somehow you found yourself standing in front of the very famous actor, Chris Evans aka Captain America. It seems impossible that something like this could ever happen. But alas it did.

You and some friends were at a big party in Boston. A party that your friends had to drag your ass to. Some of your friends thought you were spending too much time alone and decided to interfere call it a bff-intervention.

So here you were, at a party that you never wanted to go to in the first place. A drink in your hand, you began to walk around thinking it would make the time go faster.

The place was packed with too many people that were all too drunk to engage in a conversation. So, like everyone else you joined in on the drinking. You met up with one of your friends who seemed engrossed in a conversation with a man that seemed familiar.

Feeling bold from the two tequila sunrises that you had just downed you inserted yourself in the conversation. Turns out the handsome man your friend was talking to, was in fact Sebastian Stan apparently known as the winter soldier in the Marvel movies. To be honest you had never really seen any of the movies but had heard lots good about them.

Times seemed to move even slower than before and you found another drink to entertain yourself with. Your friend shooed you off, sensing the amount of flirtatious behavior you danced away and went straight for the dancefloor. The music was blasting through the room and feeling too hot, you tried to find a way outside to get some fresh air.

After finally finding the exit-door, you breathed in the cool and fresh air of Boston. You felt a bit unsteady as you walked forward and suddenly felt one of your heels stuck on the curb. You fell forward and ready for falling flat on your drunken face. But the impact of the asphalt never came.

Instead two very big and strong arm held you above the ground. You felt yourself being moved to an upright position and came face to face with a handsome blue-eyed man. The man kept ahold of you because you were still swaying a bit.

It was like in the movies where two people meet, and sparks fly. However, this was not a movie and you were far some anything that could resemble Hollywood. So of course, cupid did not come down from heaven to strike you, but another thing did. Nausea.

You quickly turned around and threw up any remains that had been in your stomach. You were practically heaving and making inhuman noises. The hands that had kept you upright found their way to your hair and to keep your curls from being covered in vomit. After what seemed like forever, you felt empty. The handsome stranger gave you a handkerchief. Everything was still spinning, and you felt very disoriented.

“Are you okay?”, he asked but did not really get an answer.

You sat down on the curb a little further away from where you had just thrown up to try to collect yourself. Reality was starting to creep in after a few minutes and horror struck you. You had just thrown op in front of the most gorgeous man that you had ever seen.

“I am so sorry. I do not normally drink, and I think I went overboard and on an empty stomach”

you said feeling more embarrassed than ever. He laughed a bit at the statement. It was like his entire body radiated as he laughed. It made you smile despite your current situation.

“Well that may have been your first mistake of the night, drinking on an empty stomach and now having to deal with a bitch of a hangover tomorrow.”

His accent was rich and thick, you could easily hear that he was local. You could not quite place his face, but he also seemed familiar, but you chose to let it go for now.

The two of you small talked for a bit until you heard your stomach protesting to the previous activities. He must have heard it,

“Do you want to get something to eat maybe? It seems like you could use it”

He had a wide smile that showed his cute dimples. You felt a bit weird, here you were talking to a stranger and could possibly be leaving with him.

He then assured you that he was not looking for any funky business and pointed to a small diner that was at the end of the street. You smiled and said yes. As you were walking you wrote your friends to let them know where you were.

The two of you sat in a small booth and ordered fries and burgers. Almost drooling at the sight of the food and him you felt bold.

“Is this a ploy though, you get me all buttered up with the whole gentleman vibe holding my hair and then getting me greasy and salty food to cure a possible hangover.”

Then he let out the most amazing loud laugh and grabbed his chest or rather his boob.

It was then you realized who he was. Chris Evans. Your mind went back to Sebastian Stan who had spoken of a friend that he came to the party with, that tended to grab his boob when laughing. He or Chris must have sensed it due to the smirk that appeared on his face. You started to apologize for not knowing who he was, but Chris only laughed it off.

The conversation just went on for what felt like hours, never any sign of an awkward pause. He was really talking to you and seemed to enjoy the listening to your babbling.

Chis did most of the talking due to your babbling and boy…even in a somewhat drunken phase you still picked up on how passionate he truly was about so many things and you could just listen for hours.

But at last a waitress came over and kindly kicked you out. Chris kept an arm around you when walking back to the party because ‘what if you could fall’ and kept up the gentleman appearance.

Soon you found yourself back at where you had first met Chris.

“I think that we should exchange phone numbers, so that I can check in on you and make sure that you are okay”

Chris said while looking a bit nervous, you felt dumbstruck for a minute and before you could say anything Chris went on

“Also I think that I am gonna need your number so that I can take you out again.”

He flashed that smile again and you were just blown away,

“I literally puked my guts out in front of you, almost fell flat on my face and not to mention my incomprehensible babbling (probably staring at you too much also) and I did not know who you were. Tell me again, why you would associate yourself with that?”

He laughed again and stepped closer to you and quietly said with a smile

“Well everything that you just said is true, but it does not matter. It might have been a different way to meet someone, but I liked it and you.”

BTW: I also felt like it was almost too long and had slow-burn vibes that may have been toooo much due to that I am not a very good writer.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans

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taliaquinn · 4 years

Text

Why Me!? Chapter 18

You guys really are mini-dectives so I am just going to put this warning out. I might mix up my times, due to the fact that in the story, the setting is in both Gotham and Paris, both of which are in completely different timezones. So yeah just a PSA :)

Both Parties were staring at each other, one in shock the other in fear.

“Hey guys, uh t-that was an illusion for uh a magic trick I was practicing since I am a secret magician wellnotsecretsecretsinceuhsinceobviously I have to perform but uh yeah that was uh an illusion…..” Marinette trailed off at the deadpan faces that Jason and Dick had. They were not buying it.

“Nice try pixie pop explain now” Jason demanded. One normal sibling that was all he asked for. He quickly walked over to help Dick sit up from where he was laying on his couch.

“Marinette it's okay you can trust us, we’ll help with whatever it is,” Dick said, looping his arm over Jason's shoulder.

Glancing between the two she was having an internal debate. Should she just tell the truth? It would be nice to no longer have to hide her alter ego and get a little bit more of support. But Jason is a civilian, Dick at Least is a cop. She couldn’t put them at risk like that. Hmm, Tell the truth or lie? Decisions decisions.

“Fine”

“I’m ladybugs helper” Lying won today.

“Hold up what?” Jason was confused but a little regardless he had a little bit of hope reignite. “Who is ladybug?”

Marinette let out a sigh of relief and out of exhaustion, both emotional and physical. “Ladybug is a superhero in my city, she sometimes needs help when the villain Hawkmoth is a bit too strong.”

“Wait so you are a superhero?” Dick asked cautiously. What was it with these Wayne kids? Is it genetic?

“WHAT!? No, it's just uh a lot of akumas come from my class so I would give Ladybug a heads up” Marinette couldn’t help the shiver that ran up her spine when she said this “somehow lead to me becoming the unofficial helper” Marinette paused before coming up with the next part of her lie “Chat, her partner was uh decommissioned, she gave me his ring and Kwami to take care of” She quickly went into her purse and pulled out a protesting Plagg out by his tail to show them.

“See” she showed them the now grumpy upside down Plagg to the dumbfounded pair.

“Hold up, what you're telling me is that you aren't a superhero, just an assistant, a gal in the chair?” Jason said elatedly. His dreams and hopes alight once again.

No. “Yes,” Guilt was crashing down on her now. How did Lila manage to lie constantly? She felt so dirty with each lie that she spewed.

“That's nice, you know your sister's secret,” Plagg piped up “Hello I'm Plagg god of darkness, one quick thing to add QUIT HOLDING ME UPSIDE DOWN WOMAN” he yelled. Marinette immediately released him. Whoops.

Plagg quickly swooped over to Dick who was still processing the newly revealed secrets. “I can't believe I was manhandled like that. I wanna switch babysitters, Hey got any camembert?” Plagg immediately asked, swooping in Dicks face before noticing the bruises “Hey what's up with the bandages, DID MARINETTE ABUSE YOU TOO!!” he gasped.

“Plagg” Marinette scolded before quickly sidestepping Jason to make her way to Dick to check up on him. Looks like she found Bludhaven Dingwatt?

“How did this even happen?”

“Uh Motorcycle accident, I called Jason to help me tow it with his…. truck”

“Jason owns a truck?” Crap. Note to self get Bruce to pay for a new truck for Jason.

“Yep I most totally do, it's really nice and really expensive with custom wheels and leather seats” Jason replied. Doing a mental happy dance. He was getting a new truck!!! He was going to milk this lie for all it's worth and best of all Bruce is going to be forced to pay for it! Santa came early this year.

Dick shot Jason a glare while Marinette was busy poking his torso.

“So…..you're Ladybugs assistant? Do you have like your own hideout or lair or something?”

“Are you joking? Nope I help her and this other girl run a website called BugOut and I make sure to take note of Akuma attacks and try to somehow find a pattern, unfortunately, I recently became a babysitter to two mini gods” She said glaring at Plagg who was busy rummaging through Marinette's desk.

It has been 30 minutes since he has been fed. He was starving for some cheesy goodness. The audacity.

“Who's the second one?” Jason asked, trying to pull the cat god out of his little sister's desk. “Hands off Gramps” Plagg spit out zooming to avoid getting caught.

“Kaalki come on out,” Marinette asked, Kaalki zoomed out to offer her paw to Dick who was now sitting on Marinette's bed. Which was comfier than the sofa.

“Greetings, May I ask what family do you descend from?”

“Oh my gosh she’s a mini Alfred,” Dick squealed.

“So Like basically you work as Ladybugs, Paris’s Heroine, girl in the chair?” Jason asked, biting into the pastry while holding a struggling Plagg who he finally caught.

“Yep,” Marinette answered, checking Dicks Bandages wrapped around his torso and making sure he was made comfortable. Motorcycle accident my as-

“Now explain how you got trapped babysitting this mangy cat, the other one seems nice enough”

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK!!!”

“Jason let Plagg go before he bites you, trust me he will, and like I said Chat Noir was decommissioned, now it’s my job to babysit him until a new wielder is found”

“But no superheroing right?” Dick asked giving Kaalki a small bit of pastry

‘No superheroing at alllll” Marinette replied. She needed to switch the conversation, she was feeling too much like Lila now.

“Anyways would you guys mind keeping this a secret?” The last thing she wanted was for Mr.Wayne to start nosing around.

“Maribug this seems dangerous, we’ve seen how the attacks have destroyed buildings, killed Chat Noir, It’s only because of Ladybugs cure thingy majig that everything is restored” Jason explained. What if she was used as leverage against Ladybug?

“Plus how are you planning on hiding this from everyone else for long?” Dick was already making a mental plan on how to help her regardless “It didn’t take long for us to figure it out”

“Uh lemme figure that part out” Marinette was gonna have to start planning “Speaking of which, how did you guys figure out it was a fake me on the bed?”

“Beats me, it was dick wad over here who figured it out”

“Let's chalk it up to older brother instincts and leave it at that” Dick teased. He was the original Robin. He practically wrote the handbook on “Sneaking out of Wayne Manor 101”.

“He’s also a mother hen”

“Yeah that too”

Agreste Manor Paris, France 6:00 a.m

Adrien walked up the stairs to his home heartbroken. He has just lost his very best friend. He has lost his job. His only escape from the pressures of being an Agreste. He needed it back. He will get it back no matter what. Right now all Adrien needed was someone to talk to. His father was very obviously a no. Nino was a definite negative. He had broken up with Alya, his other good friend.

The last thing he wanted to do was be dragged into another conflict. He was already dealing with the whole Lila and Marinette conflict. Wait a minute. Marinette. Marinette can be trusted. He can talk to her!!!

Immediately whipping out his phone he clicked on Marinette's contact and held it up to his ear. Ready to confess his secret and talk with her.

Line Disconnected

What!? Nononono this had to be a mistake. He retried again quickly. After being met with the same message he called Chloe.

After a dial tone, Chloe picked up “Adrien? Do you know what time it is?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

“Sorry Chlo, it's just....do you know what happened to Marinette, I know she's in the States with family, but why isn't she answering? Her phone is disconnected” Adrien asked apologetically. The other end was completely silent before Chloe started shuffling around before releasing a sigh

“Not that it's any of your business, but Marinette doesn't really wanna talk to any of her old classmates”

“What about me?”

“Especially you”

“WHAT!?

Authors Note: This blog stands for diversity and being inclusive. I will not tolerate hate towards others, least of all between my readers. I know that a few of us might be upset over recent occurrences over in the Harry Potter Fandom. Just know that I am a writer that loves all my readers

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Please Like,Comment and Reblog

Taglist:

@purplesundaze @silvergold-swirl @k-poplunardreams @pepelachanel @laurcad123 @maribat-is-lifeblood @kass-is-weird @another-fan-of-anotherplan @damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @thezestywalru @dreamykitty25 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochinek0 @shamefullove @mochegato @souleateralicestein @thestressmademedoit @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @aestheticnpoetic @mysupporthyperfixations @itsmeevie01

#miraculous ladybug #mlb au #maribat #Marinette deserves better #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #bruce wayne #class salt

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alwaysmarilynmonroe · 4 years

Text

It’s hard to believe 58 years to the day, on the night of August 4th, the world’s most famous Star would leave us all. Yes, I know a lot of you will be thinking, “wait, didn’t she die on the 5th?” – she was found in the early hours of that morning, and her death was announced then – so that is the “technical” date. However, as with many Marilyn “facts” that too is incorrect and so like every year, I will be posting this on the 4th.

I’m not going to write about all the ridiculous dramas and he said she said statements that have grown rapidly over the years, as they don’t deserve any more coverage. Whenever a major celebrity dies, the more shocking the statement, the more attention it gains, so much so that it’s almost became ingrained into society as being accepted as fact. But, I am going to have a big name and shame moment for the two main culprits – Robert Slatzer and Norman Mailer I’m looking at you both. Also Anthony Summers – you’re a piece of crap and I will never forgive you for publishing Marilyn’s autopsy photo in your toilet paper worthy biography.

Long story short as they don’t deserve any mention with Marilyn’s name – Slatzer created the whole Kennedy, Mafia and basically everything shit and defamatory written about Marilyn in the early 1970s. If you want to find out the actual truth with documented facts click HERE.

Sorry to disappoint any conspiracy lovers – Marilyn didn’t love JFK, nor did any of the Kennedy’s kill her, she died of an either accidental or intentional prescription drug overdose. Was I there? No, I wasn’t even alive, but it’s really not hard to disregard the nonsense and absurd claims, when you actually take the time to do a little (a lot in my case) of research.

Baby Norma Jeane in 1929.

Norma Jeane (left) and a friend at the Los Angeles Orphanage in 1936.

Norma Jeane at the Los Angeles Clifton Restaurant, which she attended with her then Husband Jim Doughtery in 1944.

Marilyn by Richard Miller in April 1946.

Marilyn by J.R. Eyerman in 1950.

Marilyn on her Doheny Drive Patio by Alfred Eisenstaedt in May 1953.

Marilyn in Korea visiting the Troops in February 1954.

Marilyn by Milton Greene on January 28th 1955.

Marilyn by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956.

Marilyn during the filming of Some Like It Hot by Richard Miller in October 1958.

Marilyn during the filming of The Misfits by Erich Hartmann in the Autumn of 1960.

Marilyn during the filming of Something’s Got To Give by Lawrence Schiller in May 1962.

Thankfully, I was lucky and never fell down that ridiculous rabbit hole in the first place. I discovered Marilyn whilst reading an article in Vanity Fair magazine almost ten years ago, discussing the then upcoming release of, Fragments: Poems, Intimate Notes, Letters by Marilyn Monroe.

This book is truly one of a kind and is basically a published archive of many of Marilyn’s personal letters, excerpts and anecdotes she had written from 1943 until 1962. Before anyone says it’s disrespectful to publish/share these and it is an invasion of privacy, to an extent I agree. However, as stated a few moment ago, with the amount of disrespectful, outrageous nonsense that has been slurred out over the half a century since Marilyn left us – I think it’s a necessity to see her own words in print. Ironically enough, it’s almost as if Marilyn herself foreshadowed the future of the media, when she said this in an Interview to Georges Belmont for Marie Claire Magazine in April 1960.

“The true things rarely get into circulation, it’s usually the false things.”

Therefore, today I have decided to focus on Marilyn herself, not as a Star, Tragic Icon or a pretty face, but as a human who had a beautiful, sensitive soul. Some of you may already know, but for those who don’t, Marilyn actually wrote numerous poems throughout her years, mostly just for herself. In her rare moments of confidence, she would occasionally show a few to her close friend, Writer Norman Rosten, who said the following in his (must have) book, Marilyn Among Friends.

“She had the instinct and reflexes of the poet, but she lacked the control.”

“Although she gave the appearance of being so confident and self assured, she was in reality incredibly self conscious and her own biggest critic, which is heartbreaking really as she was truly gifted. She was such a perfectionist that she would spend hours preparing herself mentally and physically for her beloved fans, regularly looking in the mirror at her perceived flaws. Marilyn was infamous for her lateness, which is often viewed as diva like behaviour. However, the reality is, it’s rarely noted that her anxiety was so severe, she would break out in rashes and even vomit, before going on set.

In her final interview with LIFE Magazine, published one day before her death, she even said to Journalist Richard Meryman,

“I’m one of the world’s most self conscious people. I really have to struggle.”

I remember the first time I looked through Fragments, of course it was very upsetting to see her pain written down and think about her suffering, However, I strongly noticed this recurring theme of hope, despite some incredibly sad notes, there was always some sparkle of inner strength and I just thought that should be said. Often we ourselves don’t see are bravery and bouts of determination in our inner self, but others do and I for one am glad I can see in Marilyn what she could not.

I love you with all of my heart Marilyn, from the moment you came into my life, a decade ago in October 2010. Wherever you may be, I hope you know how much love, joy and happiness you have brought and continue to bring to many people’s lives each day. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem.

Life – I am of both of your directions Somehow remaining hanging downward the most but strong as a cobweb in the wind – I exist more with the cold glistening frost. But my beaded rays have the colors I’ve seen in a painting – ah life they have cheated you ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem shared with Norman Rosten and published in his book, Marilyn: An Untold Story.

To the Weeping Willow

I stood beneath your limbs and you flowered and finally clung to me and when the wind struck with.. the earth and sand – you clung to me. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

Stones on the walk every color there is I stare down at you like a horizon – the space / the air is between us beckoning and I am many stories up my feet frightened as I grasp towards you ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

Only parts of us will ever touch parts of others – one’s own truth is just that really – one’s own truth. We can only share the part that is within another’s knowing acceptable so one is for most part alone. As it is meant to be in evidently in nature – at best perhaps it could make our understanding seek another’s loneliness out. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

for life It is rather a determination not to be overwhelmed.

for work The truth can only be recalled, never invented ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Record” Black Notebook – Written in throughout 1951.

What I do believe in What is truth I believe in myself even my most delicate intangible feelings in the end everything is intangible my most precious liquid must never spill don’t spill your precious liquid life force they are all my feelings no matter what ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Record” Black Notebook – Written in throughout 1951. Fear of giving me the lines new maybe won’t be able to learn them maybe I’ll make mistakes people will either think I’m no good or laugh or belittle me or think I can’t act. Women looked stern and critical – unfriendly and cold in general afraid director won’t think I’m any good. remembering when I couldn’t do a god damn thing. then trying to build myself up with the fact that I have done things right that were even good and have had moments that were excellent but the bad is heavier to carry around and feel have no confidence depressed mad ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

I do know ways people act unconventionally – mainly myself – do not be afraid of my sensitivity or to use it – for I can & will channel it + crazy thoughts too I want to do my scene or exercises (idiotic as they may seem) as sincerely as I can knowing and showing how I know it is also – no matter – what they might think – or judge from it ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

I can and will help myself and work on things analytically no matter how painful – if I forget things (the unconscious wants to forget – I will only try to remember) Discipline – Concentration

my body is my body every part of it. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

feel what I feel within myself – that is trying to become aware of it also what I feel in others not being ashamed of my feeling, thoughts – or ideas

realize the thing that they are – ______________________________________________________________________________

• Waldorf Astoria Stationery – Written in throughout 1955.

Sad, sweet trees – I wish for you – rest but you must be wakeful ______________________________________________________________________________

• Waldorf Astoria Stationery – Written in throughout 1955.

Not a scared lonely little girl anymore

Remember you can sit on top of the world (it doesn’t feel like it.) You can have any help you want personally – or in your work – or anything else you want – There are technical ways to go about it or problems – figure out if anything tec. can be done about it because there are people to help you – gladly – you more than most they want to help Remember there is nothing you lack – nothing to be self conscious about yourself – you have everything but the discipline and technique which you are learning & seeking on your own – after all nothing was or is being given to you – you have had none of this work thrown your way you sought it – it didn’t seek you

Too much talent Too much ability and and much too much sensitivity to invert yourself out of fear – not come to class – or to do things like being afraid to come to class or to get up. ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Italian Agenda” Notebook – Written throughout 1955 or 1956.

and the more I think of it the more I realize there are no answers life is to be lived

and since it is comparatively so short – (maybe too short – maybe too long – the only thing I know for sure, it isn’t easy

now that I want to live and I feel suddenly not old not concerned about previous thing except to protect myself – my life – and to desperately (pray) tell the universe I trust it ______________________________________________________________________________

• Parkside House Stationery – Written during her stay in England between July 14th – November 20th 1956.

I guess I have always been deeply terrified to really be someone’s wife since I know from life one cannot love another, ever, really. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Roxbury Notes – Written throughout 1957 or 1958.

In every spring the green is too sharp – though the delicacy in their form is sweet and uncertain – it puts up a good struggle in the wind trembling all the while. Those leaves will relax, expand in the sun and each raindrop they will resist even when they’re battered and ripped. I think I am very lonely – my mind jumps. I see myself in the mirror now, brow furrowed – if I lean close I’ll see – what I don’t want to know – tension, sadness, disappointment, my eyes dulled, cheeks flushed with capillaries that look like rivers on maps – hair lying like snakes. The mouth makes me the saddest next to my dead eyes. There is a dark line between the lips in the outline of several waves in a turbulent storm – it says don’t kiss me, don’t fool me I’m a dancer who cannot dance. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Roxbury Notes – Written throughout 1957 or 1958.

re – relationships

Everyone’s childhood plays itself out No wonder no one knows the other or can completely understand. By this I don’t know if I’, just giving up with this conclusion or resigning myself – or maybe for the first time connecting with reality –

how do we know the pain of another’s earlier years let alone all that he drags with him since along the way at best a lot of lee-way is needed for the other – yet how much is unhealthy for one to bear.

I think to love bravely is the best and accept – as much as one can bear. ______________________________________________________________________________

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58 Years Without Marilyn. It's hard to believe 58 years to the day, on the night of August 4th, the world's most famous Star would leave us all.

#1940s #1950s #1960s #angel #blonde bombshell #classic hollywood #icon #legend #marilyn monroe #norma jeane #norma jeane baker #old hollywood #retro

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jesusmick · 4 years

Text

Sad Boy Hours in Mexico

I have always wondered about the deleted scene from s9e6 where Mickey meets a guy wearing a Gay Jesus shirt. Here is a little drabble I wrote to try to fill in some gaps and explain how Mickey decides to go back to Chicago and prison. Featuring Mandy bc I love her. (2000 words).

It is dark by the time he turns the key to his apartment, the faint click of the lock rattling the loose doorknob. He doesn't know why he even bothers to lock it. He has nothing worth stealing, the drugs and the cash both locked up safe in Alonzo's apartment across town. Even if he did have something of value stashed away in his shitty third floor apartment, nobody in the neighborhood would dare try to break in. The people here, his neighbors, they left him alone. Come to think of it, his coworkers did too. Maybe it was because getting in with the Sinola cartel had been his dad's idea. He had been working with them for over a year now selling overpriced party drugs to stupid American tourists, but the other dealers still called him "El Menor". The younger. The lesser. Even 2000 miles away in Cabo, Mickey was still living in his father's shadow.

He kicks the door shut and toes his shoes off, dropping his backpack by the door. He's exhausted. The fog curling around his mind begs him to collapse on the bare mattress in the corner of the room and sleep until he forgets. He has done too much remembering for one day.

Instead, he moves to the beat-up mini fridge in the other corner of the room. Besides the mattress, the mini fridge, and the broken dresser that had been in the room when he moved in, he is alone. The single bare light bulb hanging from a wire in the ceiling does little to make his home for the last 14 months feel lived in.

Opening a beer, Mickey steps out onto his balcony and folds himself into a plastic picnic chair he inherited from his neighbor when she moved out.

Elena. She had been nice, Mickey thinks. Young and terrified, she had reminded him of Mandy. They would occasionally sit out on their balconies together and smoke. She didn't speak English, and Mickey's Spanish was fairly limited, but they got on. She had moved out a few months ago after getting pregnant with her drug addict boyfriend. Mickey knew he was in jail now. He also knew that he was the one who had sold Hernesto the drugs he had been on when he robbed the liquor store down the block. Mickey suspects that Elena knew too, but she never mentioned anything. She never blamed him and when she moved out, she gave him a potted plant and the plastic chair.

The plant had died weeks ago. Mickey wonders if Elena had her baby.

Taking a sip of his beer, Mickey's mind wanders to Mandy. He knew she had left Chicago years ago. They didn't talk much, but last he checked she was in Los Angeles working as a cocktail waitress in a bar frequented by the same trust-fund babies who made up the majority of his clientele. In a way, he was jealous of her, but also incredibly proud. She had gotten out. Out of their father's clutches, out of their shitty neighborhood in the Southside, and out of her own way. She was making something of herself, all by herself, even if that something was watered down appletinis.

Mickey, he could never be that person. He needed others too much, he thinks. He was too soft, too lost in his own head, too attached. Those first few weeks in Mexico had been some of the loneliest of his life. That was why he fell in with the Sinola cartel in the first place. Well, that and the fact that he was in the country illegally, making holding down a regular job impossible. His father had connections and he was desperate for a distraction. He wasn't stupid enough to call his group of dealers and distributors a family. He knew that they wouldn't think twice about killing him if he did something he shouldn't. But Mickey wasn't stupid, and so far, coasting along in this new life had made things easier. He had a job, a purpose, and a small shitty apartment to come home to at night. It was enough.

Until it wasn't. Until today.

He thinks that maybe he was a little bit numb. That being on his own for so long had turned his head to business and buried his anger, his sadness, his fear under a thick layer of dust and cheap Mexican beer.

Suddenly, he realizes that he is crying. He doesn't know when it started, maybe since he sat down on the porch, but if the dotted teardrops soaking into his shirt are any indication, he has been silently crying for a while now.

He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms and pulls out his phone. He doesn't know why he does it. But he finds himself scrolling through his contacts and pressing call before he can think twice.

She picks up on the 4th ring. Mickey thinks maybe he would have preferred it if it had gone to voicemail.

"Mickey?" She sounds like she is somewhere crowded, Mickey can hear car horns softly in the background and the sound of high heels clicking on the sidewalk.

"Hey, Mandy." His voice is softer than he intended.

"Hey." There is a long pause before she continues and Mickey thinks that maybe this was a mistake. "I thought you were in Mexico."

"I am. How's LA?" God, this is awkward. Fuck, he and Mandy had never been good with words, even at the best of times. Now, after not speaking in years? What was he thinking?

"It's good, I'm good. I'm on my way to work actually."

"Oh, right. Do you want me to call you back? Sorry, I should have texted first."

"No, no, its fine. I still have a bit of a walk. What's going on?"

And that's it, isn't it? Nothing is going on, at least nothing that should have any affect on Mickey's life. But here he is, sitting on his shitty porch, drinking his third beer, and trying to keep his voice from betraying the fact that he's been crying.

It's just not fair. It's not fair that he should be out there, moved on to some new chapter of his life. Some new partner. While Mickey is here, still somehow waiting for him.

"Mick, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here." He rubs his eyes again, pressing hard until he sees spots. He keeps them closed.

"You heard from Ian?"

It's out there now. The reason he called Mandy. The reason he was so distracted and irritable after seeing that college kid from Chicago wearing the "Gay Jesus" shirt. Alonzo had shoved him out of his apartment while they were counting the day's profits and told him to go fuck himself after his fourth nasty remark.

"Yeah," Mandy answers, "I've heard from him."

"And?" Mickey asks, suddenly frustrated. He stares out across the balcony railing, streetlamps flickering and the warm glow from neighboring apartments illuminating the street below. They should be staring out at the street together.

"He called me a few day's ago. I guess you heard about the whole Gay Jesus thing. He stopped taking his meds, got in with the wrong people, blew up a van. His sentencing is on Friday."

"Jesus Christ." Mickey exclaims softly.

He's quiet then. He can hear the sound of a crosswalk through the phone and Mandy's heels on the pavement. He thinks she might have pressed the phone to her chest because he hears her greet someone softly and the background noise suddenly fades.

"I should go." Mickey says and he hates how his voice breaks. Hates that he let himself get this affected. Hates that he is here, alone, in his shitty apartment with his shitty job stranded in fucking Cabo of all places.

He is about to press end on his phone and go grab a fourth beer when Mandy's voice, suddenly clear, speaks again.

"He misses you, Mickey." And that is just too much.

"If he misses me so much," Mickey's voice wobbles dangerously, "why did he leave me in fucking Mexico?" And he is openly crying now. He knows Mandy can hear it. And he hates that too.

Mandy sighs. "He's fucked up Mickey. Just like we all are. But he does miss you. He's pissed at himself for going off his meds and embarrassed that he let it go so far, but I think if you called him, he would listen."

"But he wasn't off his meds last year. He was himself. Or maybe he wasn't, I don't fucking know. He kept saying that he had is life together. He said he had a boyfriend."

"Some fucking boyfriend he turned out to be." Mickey thinks he hears real anger in her voice then, and he reminds himself that Mandy cares about Ian too. That Ian's sentencing was probably just as hard for her to hear as it was for him.

"He didn't even notice that he was off his meds, Mick. He just let him spiral until it was too late to do anything about it. He didn't even go to his hearing."

Mickey could hear the sound of metal scraping in the background and he thinks maybe Mandy was opening her locker before her shift started.

"What should I do?" He knows he sounded desperate, lost, but he doesn't care. He is desperate and more than a little lost.

"You love him, and even though he may be shit at showing it, he loves you too. Figure it out, my shift is starting."

"Yeah," Mickey sighs, "Okay. Thanks, Mandy."

"Bye. Call me later if you want."

She hangs up and Mickey drops the phone to his lap.

This whole day was just too much. Mickey isn't sure what he had expected Mandy to say, but hearing that Ian had gone off his meds and blown up a van wasn't it. When he saw the kid's shirt, he assumed that Ian had taken a job as some sort of gay preacher or social media activist and was now living a cushy life with his boyfriend in one of the hipster neighborhoods up in Chicago. His boyfriend who was probably just as smart and attractive as Ian. Someone who appreciated craft beer, who wrote poetry, and drank soy milk. Not someone with a lengthy criminal record, a fucked up family, who didn't know how to love someone without driving them away.

Somehow, knowing that Ian's life was falling apart, that his boyfriend as a piece of shit, and that he was going to prison gave Mickey a sick sort of vindication. He would never have let things get that crazy. He would have noticed Ian's mood swings and erratic behavior. He would have taken care of him and set him straight before he could have hurt anyone. Before he could hurt himself.

But Mickey knows that isn't fair, and truthfully, he is more worried for Ian than anything else. He has no idea what mental state he is in or how long his sentence will last. And prison is no place for someone like Ian. He's too soft. Too caring. Too proud.

With a new resolve, he wipes his hands on his jeans and picks up his phone. He doesn't really know who to call about something like this, so he finds the phone number for the public defender's office.

The call is quick and to the point. He knows what he wants and he knows what he is going to risk.

He agrees to meet them at the border in Tijuana in two days.

In the morning he will have to get a bus, a nearly 24 hour drive up the coast. But now, for the first time in over a year, a calm settles over him.

The plastic picnic chair strains as he stands, scraping against the concrete of his balcony.

He's not scared of prison. Looking around his room, he realizes that he has been practically living in a prison cell since arriving in Cabo. He is scared of Ian, though. Scared that Mandy is wrong. That Ian doesn't love him and that he is giving up his freedom, his future, for a man who has left him heartbroken so many times before.

As he crawls into bed, arranging his limbs under a threadbare blanket, his mind jumps back to a lifetime ago.

What you and I have makes me free.

Mickey thinks that he was right, back then. There is no freedom for him without Ian Gallagher.

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless #fic

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seasonal-obsession · 4 years

Text

Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten

Summary: it takes reaching adulthood twice for Jane Seymour to find out she is dyslexic

Can be read on AO3 or down below

She came from a noble family, albeit not a prominent one, but yes, she could've had a formal education even back then. Except Jane never enjoyed her reading and writing lessons, she'd much rather work on her embroidery, and such womanly duties were preferred at the time. A lot has changed since then, and yet Jane, here in the 21st century, still doesn't like reading more than she used too.

Sighing, she drops the book on the kitchen table. She places her hand to the centre of the page. Maybe if her finger follows the lines she'll be able to focus enough to finish this paragraph. Catherine's old writing is full of the complex flourish that was so popular at the time, and the words keep tangling in Jane's head.

“Not quite to your taste?”

As if summoned, Catherine Parr appears at the dining room's door. Jane startles by the sound of her voice and blinks up at her; it's odd to see anyone home so early in the afternoon.

“—Sorry, what?”

Catherine drops her backpack in the chair in front of Jane's and proceeds to take off her coat. Smiling, she answers, “the book. Pretty outdated, I imagine”

Oh, she must have been glaring at The Lamentation of a Sinner a bit too hard then.

“Anna and Catalina seemed to like it anyway” Jane reassuring smile suddenly turns sheepish, “I... haven't gotten far enough to say”

“Do you mind if I join you?” when Jane shakes her head Cathy sits down and pulls out a book from her backpack. After that, they both remain quiet.

Jane finds herself taken aback by the comfortable silence between them. It's a pleasant surprise; after all, they aren't that close. They don't normally spend time together, apart from the shows and the rehearsals (well, at least not alone, sometimes they do hang out with Catalina together). Maybe that's why Jane, despite her unliterary tendencies, decided to read the other queen's book in the first place, to get to know her better. Writing had been an important part of who Catherine was in her past life, which she reminded everyone when she sang on the stage.

…Jane might be the last to take this into account; apparently, the rest of the queens had already read it.

Minutes go by, the silence only broken by the sound of Cathy turning pages. Jane begins to feel a little self-conscious, Catherine is such an avid reader and she still hasn't finished the page she was reading when the other queen arrived. Out of some self-imposed pressure, she tries to read faster. But the more she hurries, the blurrier the words get; letters fussing together beyond recognition, and she has to give up and start that sentence again, and again. A headache is beginning to form behind her eyes. Suddenly, she closes the book and stands up from her seat.

“I'm going to the kitchen to make some tea, do you want anything?”

“I'll have some coffee” Cathy replies, glancing up from her book, “if we still have any”

“It was Anne's turn to do the groceries this week, wasn't it?” Jane says with an amused smile as she puts the kettle on, “where do you guys keep this stuff?”

“Top left cabinet”

“Hmm... I can't see any”

“Let me see", Catherine walks up to the cupboard, "—oh. It’s this other one”, she notes before opening the left cabinet’s door.

Stupid.

“I sort— eh, sorry I… must've not been paying attention”, Jane mumbles, subtly averting her eyes.

“Don't feel like you have to apologize. It's fairly common for people with dyslexia to confuse left and right”, Jane is giving Cathy a perplexed look, so she continues, “Oh, I thought you knew? It happens to you sometimes, like when they teach us new dances or when you're driving and we give you directions”

“But that's just… me, messing up”, Jane replies confused, “because I'm not paying enough attention”

“No, no it's fine” Jane dismisses it quickly, trying to seem nonchalant as she shakes her off. She didn't know all her little slips were that obvious, shit. “I guess I just need to make an effort haha...”

“Jane you're the most dedicated person I ever met, if you're not making an effort then no one is” Catherine states firmly

Jane looks at Cathy's serious expression and gives herself a moment to consider, to really think about it. What if all of it, reading, writing, memorizing; what if it wasn't as difficult for everyone else as it was for her? She thinks of her teachers, of all the times she heard “you are smart Jane, but you need to apply yourself more” or when she would get scolded, how they said that she needed to stop being ditsy or lazy to pass their class; and she always thought they were right, thought “I'm not trying hard enough”. Dyslexia …it makes sense. That's why she makes spelling mistakes no matter how thoughtful she is, why reading takes so long, and sometimes the letters seem to blur. Did she even need her reading glasses? Everything the same and somehow it feels like her whole world shifted, just a little, and at last the picture's properly framed.

The noise of the boiling kettle breaks her out of her thoughts. She finally answers, voice barely above a breath, “…is it not meant to be that hard?”

Catherine shakes her head; she's staring at her with sympathetic eyes. Oh, she must look like a mess and over such a little thing.

“Were you never diagnosed?”

“No, I mean, I always… struggled with it but I thought it was normal, you know? So I never said anything”, Jane rambles, trying to explain. And even though she thinks she's not making any sense, she doesn't feel foolish at all because Cathy's there, leaning against the kitchen counter, listening attentively and nodding along like she knows exactly what Jane means, “how did you notice?”

“Your handwriting was a bit of a giveaway.” Jane slaps Cathy's shoulder lightly and they both giggle.

They make themselves their drinks and move back to the kitchen table. Sipping her coffee, Catherine stretches her arm across the table; she absentmindedly traces one of the edges of the book's cover with her fingertips. It’s an old edition, not from way back when she wrote it, but close. She wonders if they kept all her words intact or if she would even be able to tell if they changed them, after all this time.

“I think I want to read this.”

Jane puts down her teacup and moves to hand her the book, “Oh sure, here let me—”

“Do you mind if I start back from the beginning? I know you said you were only a few pages in, but I’d like to reread the entire thing”

"I don't…? —Cathy, you don't have to", Jane stutters a bit ashamed.

"I want to."

And Jane can't help but believe Cathy's being sincere, because her voice is warm and she's looking at her with kind eyes. Trying not to feel overwhelmed, she answers with a small tentative smile, "I guess it will be just like listening to an audiobook?"

Cathy returns her smile fully, "and with the author's exclusive comments too."

Then she turns to the page and starts reading aloud.

#jane seymour #catherine parr #six fanfic #six the musical #six the musical fanfic

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clan-sayeed-fic · 4 years

Text

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC) finale

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) ❗ Warnings: this chapter describes difficult situations / angst / might cause distress ❗ Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

So here we are, at the end of the story. I'm honestly shocked that this story even has the end, or that I wrote it because... you know... every story has it 😄

From this place, I would like to say thank you to everyone who read this fic and stayed here with me in anticipation of what will happen next. Believe me, for the majority of the time, I was totally clueless about what the next chapters would bring to the story haha 😅

The finale turned out to be probably the longest chapter of all from this fic. I hope you'll enjoy reading it! 💖💖💖

~ 3300 words

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

Chapter 25 finale

"Why don't you free yourself?" the calming voice woke Amy up, once again.

She opened her eyes to see almost the exact same ones, a little smile was playing in the corner of the woman's mouth in front of her.

"I'm tied up to this stupid chair if you haven't noticed," her company started annoying Amy earlier, but the woman never left.

No matter what.

"Soon enough, all those ferals will spread all over the city, and you're down here, waiting," the woman's voice judgemental.

Amy looked at her own hands and tried to struggle, pulling on the rope. But her attempt ended up with the string driving deeper into her skin, causing more pain.

"I'm too weak," she gave up, tilting her head back, exhausted even after such a little effort.

The woman was staying in front of Amy without doing anything. All she had to do to help her was untying the ropes, cutting them with something sharp.

Instead, she just said out loud.

"Don't give up."

***

"Have you heard the rumors?" Adrian's words were trying to fight their way through Kamilah's thoughts.

It had been almost two weeks since Amy disappeared. They didn't have much progress so far in finding her. Adam left without saying anything, which only confirmed their theory about him being guilty.

But even though their hands were tied up.

If they accused a senator of New York of doing such thing as kidnapping a person without actual proof, no one would ever believe them. They needed to talk to him first, push him into giving himself away, and telling them where he was holding Amy captive.

The next matter they had to take into consideration was that Adam wasn't only a senator of the city. What most important was him, being a well-respected member of the Council and a clan leader. Baseless accusations would cause chaos and make vampires grow suspicious.

Because, why would any vampire be concerned about a human?

Explaining it would require giving up Amy's identity about her being a Bloodkeeper. And that wasn't an option.

"I did, I'm already on the way to his office," Kamilah's voice sharp.

"Please, Kamilah, don't do anything stupid," Adrian's voice showed his deep concern.

But the woman only hung up, driving as fast as she could, heading to Vega's office. Kamilah's source had already told her about his arrival. It was like this man didn't exist for the last few days, unable to find. And now, when he finally decided to step out of shadows, they would have a talk.

Not the most polite one.

Kamilah didn't even bother to wait or ask anyone to let her in. Thanks to her vampire speed, she was standing in front of him within a second.

"Where is she?" her eyes flashing with red from anger.

Adam was in the middle of work, crowded with a stack of papers around him. He stopped writing something down right after the woman walked to his office.

"Can I help you with something, Ms. Sayeed?" he took off his glasses, leaning back on his seat, his expression untouched.

"Yes, you can start by telling me where the hell did you hide her, you..." Kamilah was filled with rage, barely controlling herself.

Vega looked at her with surprise. That was an unusual view to see the great Kamilah Sayeed being attached to someone such weak like a simple mortal.

"That's interesting," his voice calm, as the opposite to hers. "Because, a while ago, I remember having Amy here in my office," he made a pause, taking out some documents from the drawer. "Or, should I say... Amelia."

"If you even touched her, I swear..." Kamilah made a fist out of her hands, using all of her strength to stay in place.

She knew that anger would have no use for Amy at that moment, but the awareness of it didn't stop the rage burning inside her veins. Hearing the girl's name leaving this poisoned mouth made it even harder for her to handle.

"I did way much more than that," Vega smiled, but before the woman jumped to his throat, he put the files before her. "But nothing that she hadn't already agreed on."

Kamilah grabbed the documents, reading them with impossible tempo, taking all the letters, words, sentences, paragraphs of the contract in.

Recognizing Amy's signature at the end of it.

"She didn't..." Kamilah's mouth slightly opened in disbelief.

"She did what she had to do," Adam's mouth curling in a sly smile. "Uphold her end of the deal," he reached for the speaker, a smile never leaving his face. "Be so kind and send here someone who'll show Ms. Sayeed the way to the doors."

Kamilah's eyes had never been before this red, an intense shade of crimson burning inside her iris. She ripped the contract apart with her nails, assuming that Adam showed her only a copy of it.

"You don't know who you're dealing with Vega," icy stare of her eyes. "I will..."

"You will do nothing," he put on his glasses. "And if I may suggest something, I recommend you to leave the city before it gets too hot in here," he looked at her one last time. "I'm saying it as a friend, Kamilah."

"Don't you dare call yourself my friend," she almost yelled.

At that moment, the security entered the room, and not wanting to cause any more scene Kamilah turned around speechless.

She made a promise to herself.

She will not rest until she finds Amy and brings her home.

***

"It's happening."

"How do you know?" Amy's forehead sweating.

It had been hours since Vega left her there. The wounds after needles were finally healed, but she lost a lot of blood until it happened.

"I don't, but you do," the woman looked at her with concern.

Her skin was getting paler with every minute of waiting, acting like she was the reflection of Amy. Like what was happening to both of them was somehow connected.

But what she said was true, Amy was able to feel it inside her chest that something was happening. New York might have been burning or being destroyed by the enormous amount of free ferals running between the buildings. The mindless creatures killing innocents.

And she was still closed there, alone.

Almost alone.

To think that her blood was the key for Vega to build his own empire. The blood that was running inside veins of such useless girl as she was at that moment.

No, it won't end like this, Amy scolded herself in thoughts. She started to struggle again on the chair, pulling on the ropes. With a similar result to her previous attempt.

"Good, keep fighting," the voice echoed next to her, or inside her head, she wasn't sure of that anymore.

That's when Amy started moving her body back and forth, trying to swing the chair. It was actually working, legs of the chair slightly lifting and falling again. But still not enough.

Come on...just... fucking... move, her mind shouted.

Suddenly, the chair lost its balanced, and she fell with it on the ground. The chair broke after meeting with the floor, leaving the girl writhing in pain.

"Amy, get up, you don't have much time," the woman beside her, encouraging her.

Amy sighed loudly and slowly lifted her weak body. Everything before her eyes went blurry, but somehow, she managed to focus on the surroundings, and reach the stairs.

She climbed slowly to the doors, and without much hope, she gripped the door handle.

To her surprise, the doors were left open, and she needed only to give them a little push to see what was hidden behind them.

Freedom.

***

"We need to go now!" Adrian shouted at both women.

The whole city was under evacuation. Everything started in the morning.

At first, there were only speculations from someone seeing a few ferals in unrelated to each other places, which made it look like a coincidence. But then, reports started coming from many clan members and sources that Council had spread all over the city.

It was sure then, they had to call it a crisis.

It made Kamilah, Lily, and Adrian hurry to Vega's office, trying to finally get information about where he kept Amy. Since there was already chaos and panic everywhere, they didn't care anymore about the meaning of his reputation.

But, to their great astonishment, when they got there, the place was filled with ferals. They were sure that Adam did it as a distraction, so anyone would think about him being responsible for the attack.

So that's where they found themselves, fighting those ferals together. Every time it seemed that they were getting closer to win, there was more of them appearing out of nowhere.

"We are outnumbered, we stand no chance with them!" Adrian tried to reason with women once again. "We won't help her by dying here today!"

"Either way, this whole city is gonna burn with everyone in it!" Lily shouted from a different place, getting herself lost in a fight.

"That's why we need to save ourselves," Adrian answered, between ripping heads of several ferals. "Vega must have taken Amy with himself. He wouldn't have left her here to die, he needs her."

Their talk was interrupted by more attackers. Ferals were hissing from every side of the hall, getting closer one by one.

It was the worst type of enemy. They weren't scared of anything, and the only thing responsible for their bloodlust was their instinct. Even seeing one of their own kind getting killed meant nothing for them.

"I know that she..." Kamilah's voice interrupted when she cut through the chest of another feral with her daggers, "...is here. End of discussion!"

One of the ferals came out of nowhere, attacking Kamilah before she even sensed its presence behind. That's when Adrian came with help, killing the creature just in time before it tried to bite her.

"I won't let you die, only because you have an intuition," he sent her a grave look, showing how serious he was about that.

Kamilah was ready to argue with him, but at the same time, something hit her. It was this impossibly intense and tempting smell. It made all of the vampires look at each other meaningfully.

They didn't have to say anything, everyone knew what this scent meant.

"Go get her," Lily said to Kamilah and smiled slyly. "My bro and I will keep those greedy ferals in place a little bit more."

***

Amy went out of the basement, and from that moment, the noise hit her.

Earlier, she wasn't able to hear anything since walls and doors were soundproof. And then, when she escaped from that place, every sound was hitting her brain, making it almost explode from ache.

"Keep going, Amy," the voice behind her pierced through all the noises. "Focus your hearing on what's important."

The girl followed her advice, being able to recognize the sounds, separate them from each other. What the most stood up from all of them was hissing. This characteristic, irritating noise was coming from higher floors of the building she found herself in.

Amy never heard something like that, so she only assumed that it was ferals who made those sounds.

But, there was something else in the noise.

Somehow, maybe subconsciously, Amy heard a deep, feminine voice. The one that she would recognize anywhere.

"Kamilah!" she screamed without thinking, feeling a sudden relief in her chest.

But even though she yelled as loud as she could, nothing happened.

She tried shouting again, but clearly, it wasn't working.

"She can't hear me," Amy leaned her back against the wall, feeling hopeless.

Kamilah didn't hear her, she was lost in the fight. She would probably never know that Amy even was down there. The thought of it made her legs tremble as she slowly sat down on the floor, putting both hands on her sides, trying to steady herself.

That's when her fingertips touched the cold surface, making her move away in surprise. She looked at the floor, noticing shattered glass all over the place. And she knew what to do.

"Please, notice this," Amy whispered to herself.

She cut deep through her wrist, right at the place of her old scar.

Breaking it apart, making blood flow out of her body once again.

***

"Tell me, what has all of this brought you?" a soft voice, the same one never leaving her side.

Amy looked into her eyes, smiling. There was no chance left for her, and the thought of that made her chuckle ironically.

The woman was right. Was it all even worth the effort?

Frustration, pain, constant feeling of fear.

Good memories, friendship, love.

Her head became heavier, breaths were slowing down. She was giving up little by little, drifting away into darkness.

Her body couldn't take much more.

She didn't want to fight more.

"Amy," the young woman tried to wake her up, but the girl's eyes were closed.

"Amy," another attempt.

"Amy!" the voice sounded different, waking her up immediately.

She didn't see the blonde girl in front of her anymore. No, the view was way much more gorgeous. She quickly recognized the features she knew so well, eyes that she kept looking into so many times, completely mesmerized.

The definition of pure perfection.

"Kamilah," Amy smiled weakly, barely believing in what was happening. She looked around, searching for the woman that accompanied her earlier. "Where is she?"

"Where is who?" Kamilah already healed Amy's wound, stopping the bleeding.

"This woman... she was here," Amy's voice was shaky. "She helped me."

"Amy..." those chestnut eyes were showing so much concern. "You must be mistaken. There was no one except you when I got here."

How...Amy's brain started working, reminding itself all the moments during which she was talking to this woman. The woman with blonde, wavy hair, light skin, green eyes.

How she spoke to her, with the exact same voice that was leaving Amy's mouth every time she said something. How she was looking at her with the same eyes, feeling the same emotions.

"Oh my god," Amy looked at Kamilah when the solution hit her. "It was me."

It was me all this time, she said to herself, shocked when she finally understood the message behind the vision.

"Amy, you lost too much blood," Kamilah tried to lift her, but the girl disobeyed. It made the woman frown with misunderstanding, "I need to take you from here as soon as it's possible, it's not safe."

But the girl looked like she didn't want to be saved, the view making Kamilah's heart to break in half. She was looking at this person, and she couldn't recognize her anymore. There was no light in her green eyes.

Not in the way like it was before.

"How bad is it?" Amy asked her, smile fading away from her face. "Tell me, Kamilah, how bad is it, is there any chance to fight it?"

The vision of herself hit her again, the memory when her own eyes turned red.

"No," Kamilah kneeled down, close to the girl. "Adrian and Lily are upstairs, they are trying to keep the ferals away, but there are no more vampires left in the city," her voice broke, "only humans."

Amy closed her eyes for a moment, she was aware of what needed to happen next. She knew that Kamilah would not be able to get her out of there, not when Amy was in this state.

And at least one of them should have a chance to make it out alive.

"You need to fight them all," Amy looked at her, holding her by the cheek because Kamilah was avoiding her eyes. She knew what was coming before she even heard the words. "You need to fight them all, save the city."

"Even if we tried, that's impossible," the woman placed her hand over Amy's, feeling her cold skin that caused shudders down her spine.

"Of course it's impossible on your own, silly," Amy chuckled, a single tear escaping her eye. "That's why you have me."

"Amy...don't," Kamilah couldn't take it.

There was no need to go back to the night of their argument. No need to say the words of apology, when they understood each other without them. This night was just a meaningless episode, nothing compared to what they felt toward each other.

And Amy already made her decision about their future fate.

She freed her hand from Kamilah's grip and neared her wrist to the vampire's mouth.

"With my blood, you can do this," she spoke aloud, keeping herself calm.

"It will kill you," Kamilah's eyes filling with tears, the view breaking Amy's heart into million pieces. "You lost too much blood for this..."

"Take what's left," Amy interrupted. "Take all of it," she smiled reassuringly, "all of me with you."

Tears escaped Kamilah's eyes and flew down her cheeks without control. She knew that what Amy had in mind would work. That this was the only way to save those innocent people. Maybe even the only one to save Adrian and Lily.

Drinking Bloodkeeper's blood would make her impossibly powerful, it would stand for enough time for her to kill all the ferals.

But it was Amy's blood.

It was her Amy who they were talking about, and Kamilah didn't know if she was ready for such a sacrifice.

"Hey," Amy sensed her pain. "It's ok, it's my choice, I'm ok with it."

"I'm not," Kamilah's voice shaky.

"Kamilah..." Amy didn't hold back tears anymore. "I trust you...I...I love you more than anyone in my life."

The woman froze in place, she wasn't expecting to hear such words. She didn't expect to hear them at all, and for sure not under such circumstances.

She opened her mouth slightly, wanting to say something, but Amy didn't let her.

"Don't say anything," the girl smiled a little. "You'll tell me when all of it will be over," her hope was killing them both from the inside. "You can be sure that I won't let you forget about it," Amy smiled weakly.

"Of course, you won't," Kamilah returned the smile, looking at her with love in her eyes, trying to be brave.

She leaned down to Amy's lips, placing a soft kiss on them.

This one last time.

When she stepped back, they shared a meaningful look, ready for what's to come.

Kamilah took Amy's wrist up to her own mouth. Her fangs grew out from her teeth, but this time it wasn't accompanied by any intoxicating feeling.

After a moment of hesitation, she finally did what she hated the most at that moment.

She bit through the soft surface of her skin.

Blood started floating down her throat, but its taste brought no pleasure. Kamilah's body was growing more powerful, her skin was glowing. Every cell, nerve, muscle in her body was waking up alive.

But all she felt was the pain.

Like she was dying all over again.

For this whole time, they were looking into each other's eyes.

As life from one was flowing to another.

Amy kept a reassuring smile on her face as long as she could, trying to give the woman courage. To help her get through this. Even if she was the one from whom the life was escaping with every minute.

After a while, her eyes closed up, and all she was hearing was her heartbeat, dangerously slowing down.

At first, she felt pain, then the ache changed into pure exhaustion that was mixed with relief.

Sounds around her mixed with each other, leaving silence behind.

Until the very last drop of blood left Amy's body.

And there was nothing more for her to feel in this life.

***

One thing was clear,

Amy was dead.

And who would have guessed...

That when you die,

Your heart can beat stronger than ever before.

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

Explanation

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

tag list: @onyxgaytrash @lightning-fury @scarlet-letter-a0114 @caliseds @myonlybae-joohyun @spacecarrousel

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incensuous · 4 years

Text

demon!NezuTan AU

fandom: KNY character(s): Nezuko/Tanjirou (not explicit, but they are together), Yoshiteru (Zenitsu), Aoba (Inosuke) rating: T, pretty gen tho words: 1522

basically, what if NezuTan had stayed demons and lived to the present-day. mild spoilers for ch 205/end of KNY

read on AO3

“Are you reading those stories again, Yoshiteru?” Aoba sits down across his friend, at a cafe, rolling his eyes. “We’re supposed to be studying, not reading some sci-fi, fantasy stuff.”

“Hey, my great-grandpa wrote these, you know!” Yoshiteru huffs. “Apparently, he was good friends with the Kamado demon siblings, and helped in the fight against Muzan. So I might be related to the reason Japan is still standing today!”

“Okay, sure, then maybe I am, too,” Aoba rolls his eyes again, before opening his book. “Can we get to business, now? I want to go into research. I’m not gonna make it there if I don’t get into the university I want.”

“Ugh, you’re so boring, Aoba,” Yoshiteru grumbles. “I think they’re real.”

At the sight of his friend’s incredulous face, Yoshiteru frowns. “You don’t think they’re real? There’s so many sources and stories about them--”

“Yeah, just a bunch of people spreading the same rumors, and wanting to get some attention,” Aoba shrugs.

“But these stories are from all over Japan, and there are even some from outside too in recent decades. And they corroborate, even though there’s no way these people would know of each others’ stories--not back then.”

Aoba raises an eyebrow. “Well, even if those stories are true, there certainly aren’t any demons now.”

“Probably because they don’t want us to know they’re around. And maybe the Kamado siblings got rid of most of them!”

He snorts. “What next? You’re probably gonna say the Kamado siblings are still running around in modern day Tokyo, being vigilantes or something.”

His friend’s eyes sparkle.

Aoba grimaces. “You actually do think that? I bet you’re only so interested because Kamado Nezuko was said to be a great beauty.”

Yoshiteru leans forward, eyes ablaze, and practically drooling. “She is a great beauty! My great-grandpa writes how any man seeing her would be overwhelmed with emotion!”

“You’re disgusting. Sounds like your great-grandpa was the same.”

Suddenly, Yoshiteru’s eyes intensify and Aoba sighs, because he knows that look.

“Aoba! Your six o’clock!” Yoshiteru half-whispers, as if trying to be discrete, but nothing about the boy was discrete, from his personality to the volume of his voice.

Regardless, the cafe is quite bustling, so Aoba hopes whoever Yoshiteru is pointing out to him hasn’t heard the whisper.

When he stealthily tries to peek over his shoulder (not that he really cares, but he knows his friend wouldn’t let it alone), he’s briefly worried they were overheard after all, because a beautiful girl is in fact sitting across the cafe, and she’s staring directly at them now.

There’s no way she should’ve heard them, not as far as she was. Her stare isn’t threatening or annoyed, more like curiosity.

Aoba quickly turns away. “Yoshiteru, don’t you dare go and bother that girl.” But it’s too late, and Aoba can see the hearts forming in his friend’s eyes.

Almost as if in a trance and true to his convictions, Yoshiteru strolls over to the girl in question and Aoba frets before rushing after his friend to wrangle him away.

By the time he reaches them, he gets a better look at the beautiful girl Yoshiteru is currently talking nonsense to. She seems a bit older than them, perhaps in college.

She looks the part, in a cozy sweater, jeans, and combat boots in contrast to his and Yoshiteru’s high school uniforms. Her long, pink-tipped hair is free flowing, with a small clip to keep it from falling into her face. But most strange of all, she was actually smiling at Yoshiteru.

“Miss, I’m so sorry,” Aoba apologizes, slightly bowing at her, as he insistently tugs on his friend’s arm, whispering harshly of how they needed to sit back down because he really didn’t want to get banned from another cafe, dammit. The one owned by the strange, mismatched couple had the best donuts, and he was lucky the pink-haired woman still let him in on occasion. “My friend was dropped on the head as a baby many times, so he has no working brain, you see.”

For his credit, the taller boy remains obstinately in place. “You said your name was Toko? Toko-chan?”

Aoba smacks the back of his friend’s head, and normally he would wail, but it’s as if Aoba turned into a ghost, his strike having no more effect than a breeze.

The girl, apparently Toko, giggles and waves a small hand. “It’s okay,” she assures him. “It’s nice to meet you two. And your name is?” She turns to Aoba.

“Uh, Hashibira Aoba,” he offers, after a beat. He can’t believe a pretty college girl is actually giving the two of them the time of day, even if out of pity.

He might be imagining it, but when he says his name, it seems like her eyes soften at the two of them.

“Hashibira-san,” she nods her head, still smiling.

Suddenly, he feels a tingle down his spine, like a deep rooted instinct, passed down from his ancestors. But when he turns around, all he sees is a kind-faced boy with light purple eyes, smiling at him.

“Hello,” the boy grins gently, tilting his head. “Have you two been keeping Toko company?”

Aoba freezes--crap, is this her boyfriend? Is he about to beat the two of them up for trying to hit on his girlfriend? This guy’s face is one of the softest faces he’d ever seen, but there’s no mistake there’s a lot of muscle hidden underneath his hoodie and jacket, and he doesn’t disregard the shock down his spine from earlier--

“Onii-chan, you’re pretty late.”

Okay, they’re siblings, it changes things but still does not rule out the possibility of getting beat up for bothering Toko-san.

“Sorry, Toko,” the red-haired boy ducks his head sheepishly. “I’ll buy you a pastry, I promise.”

“I made some new friends,” Toko says instead. “This is Hashibira Aoba-kun and Agatsuma Yoshiteru-kun.”

“Nice to meet you. You can call me Sumihiko,” the newcomer bows and beams at them, almost too friendly.

Yoshiteru is giving Sumihiko a dirty glare, as if Sumihiko somehow insulted him by being related to a beautiful girl.

“Nice to meet you,” Aoba bows, forcing his friend to bend forward as well. “I’m sorry to have bothered you two, we’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait, Toko-chan, can I get your number, please?” Yoshiteru howls, and Aoba can never stop getting embarrassed when he’s loud enough people around them start to take notice. “Just your number, and I swear I won’t text too often, maybe just once every other day, maybe once a day, okay?”

Aoba futilely attempts to drag his friend away. “Goddammit Yoshiteru, if someone calls the police on you one more time, you really might not get away with it--”

“Sure.”

Even Yoshiteru himself is in shock at Toko’s ready agreement, and dumbly hands over his phone for Toko to input her contact information. Again, Aoba isn’t sure if it’s the lighting in the cafe, but now it’s as if both siblings are looking at him and Yoshiteru with tender, fond eyes.

Before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “Have we met before?”

Sumihiko shakes his head, slowly. “No, I don’t think we have.”

“Oh… sorry, I thought you two just looked a bit familiar,” he blushes, feeling like an idiot in front of these two very attractive siblings now.

“It’s alright, we get that more often than you’d think,” Toko assures him.

Aoba isn’t sure why, because the two of them definitely stand out enough to not be confused with other faces, but he doesn’t question it further.

“Toko-chan, perhaps we met in a past life!” Yoshiteru croons, cloyingly. “Maybe we were even married!”

Aoba notices the matching grins on Sumihiko and Toko--and also realizes they really do look alike, considering at first glance, he could hardly believe they were actually siblings, with neither their hair nor eyes matching.

“Okay, I think it’s really time we start studying, Yoshiteru,” Aoba grits his teeth, and with herculean effort, wrenches the boy away from his newfound infatuation. “I don’t think Toko-san will want to talk to a high school dropout.”

“We’ll meet again soon, Toko-chan!” Yoshiteru blubbers, reaching out towards her.

“Do you think we acted weird?” Nezuko ponders quietly, when Tanjirou returns to her with the promised croissant. “We smiled like fools the whole time.”

Tanjirou shrugs, the grin not leaving his face. “I couldn’t help it. I was so happy to see them again.”

Nezuko giggles, wistfully. “I know. Me too.”

(“Let’s bring Yushiro some cake pops, later.”

“He’ll only eat them once we leave.”

“I know.”)

#nezutan #shipcest #consanguinamory #fic #kny #kny spoilers #kny spoiler #my writing #fanfic #demon AU #kamado tanjirou #kamado nezuko #i dont love this but idk what else to do w it #im imagining yoshiteru and aoba are like carbon copies of zenitsu and inosuke bc idgaf who they married lol #i also love imagining nezutan in modern streetwear

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remember-the-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Heathers (Musical) Fem!Reader Insert

-NO JD.- time: 2020

"Martha~!" I said as I sat down at our table, handing her my sandwich, only wanting my fries.

"Thanks (Y/n)! How was your day?" She asked me.

"Well Veronica wasn't in first period so I had to finish out group project alone and she avoided me like a plague. Do you know why?" I said.

Martha was soon coughing on her drink.

"N-No reason!" She said, clearly lying. I stared at her until she craked.

"F-Fine. She somehow joined the Heathers." Said Martha.

"Oh heck no...." I said, sighing. Knowing nothing I could do beside wishing she'll come back to us unharm.

Veronica pov.

"You know (Y/n)?" I asked.

"Yes because She's one of the few people who don't care about The Heathers." Said Chandler, fixing her makeup.

"She doesn't really care for much of anything beside her grades and her friends." I told them.

"But She still choosed this life." Said Duke. "She's a bitch."

Oh God, (Y/n) might murder me...

(Y/n) pov.

"Can't we talk this out now? You shouldn't be rude." I said to Ram and Kurt, who was messing with me, again. I can't miss next class, I have a test today!

"We aren't being rude. We're just showing you a way of life that you're use to." Said Ram.

"So messing with me?" I said. They had me corner and I have not way out. I soon took out my wallet, giving them both 10 dollars. "Leave me alone for the rest of the week." I said, walking off.

'Did she just play them off?'

Thought Martha and Veronica.

3rd person pov.

"(Y/n)?" Said Veronica, knowing her friend has not yet talked to her. "I'm sorry, I wanted to know hey you didn't tell me Kurt and Ram was bothering you too." Said Veronica.

"You can't doing anything about anyway, Veronica." Said (Y/n). "You're a Heather, you now are above it all, remember?" She hissed. Veronica never knew (Y/n) could say a name in such disarray.

"See know, you're the only one that has ever that word, being truly angry." Said a new voice, behind (Y/n).

"Fudge." Mumbled (Y/n), turning around to face the 'Mythic Bitch' as Verinica once said. Heather Chandler, still as (Y/n) remembers, dressed in red.

"But I can promise you that next time would be your last mistake." Said Chandler, stepping closer to (Y/n).

(Y/n) sensing danger, stepped back into Veronica, who was visually tense. All three Heathers now stood in front of her and Veronica.

And (Y/n) did the only sensible thing.

*She ran away.

Veronica never seen (Y/n) run that fast ever.

"Atleast that scared her off for now." Said Duke.

"Come on Veronica, there is a party we have to go to tonight." Said McNamara.

(Y/n) pov.

"Martha, please don't go." I pleaded. "You can't believe that Ram has just changed."

"(Y/n), he invited me. I'm going with -."

"That's not alcohol. Here take with." I said handing her some of my Dad's John Daniel, taking the sparkling juice for myself.

"Thanks." She said hugging me. "You can come, you know."

"Don't do parties but if things go bad, you can come here and we can watch the Princess Bride." I told her, letting her go.

"I'll come here right away if anything goes wrong. Thanks for the drink. Bye." She said before leaving before I sighed, going to my dad to tell him he was out.

-Later that Night-

I was right to say, Martha said he wasn't as rude as he could have been because of the alcohol I gave her.

"Was Veronica there?" I asked.

"Y-Yes but please don't do hurt her." Said Martha, I sighed.

"Not today." I said. "But she will feel me anger soon. Now let's watch that movie."

-3:00 am-

I couldn't sleep, I was angry and I look at Martha, she was asleep on my bed. Luckly I lived in the attic so I had enough room for my bed and a couch with the TV. I sat up grabbing a jacket and my wallet and wrote a note just in case Martha wakes up.

I exited threw my window and there was ladder because one time I jump and sprained my ankle.

I soon was on the side walk, enjoying the coldness on my feet and the quietness of the world. Planing heading to 7/11 for some snacks.

"You know you have no shoes?" Asked a voice of a person, I didn't want to deal with.

"Don't care, I need some snacks." I told her.

"Get in my Jeep. I'll drop you off before heading home." Said Duke, stopping her Jeep.

"Fine but if you kidnap me, I'm gonna be upset." I told her, sitting in the passenger sit.

°°°

"Why are you up at 3 in the morning?" I asked.

"Leaving a party, you?" She said, sounding like she didn't truly care.

"Couldn't sleep so I've been watching TV." I said.

"You're so lame." Said Duke.

"Thanks." I said, not caring.

"You really don't care anymore?" She asked. "Not what people say about you or what they may do to you?" She continued to ask me.

"Caring is for the weak or strong." I said as she parked her Jeep. "Thanks, Heather." I exited her car and ran into the store.

"(Y/n)! Where the heck were you?" Said Martha as I entered the window, with 3 bags of stuff.

"7/11. For snacks.-"

"At 4 in the morning?!" She said.

"Well it was 3 when I left." I said sitting down own my couch. Martha soon sat beside, looking though the bags.

"Sodas, chips, a monster, those tiny bread sticks you dip in cheese, pringles, slim Jim, and shoes?" Said Martha.

"No shoes no shirt no business is an awful rule." I told her. "I wanted to binge watch something on Netflix, now if you want to..?"

"Of course but we have school tomorrow." Said Martha. "How are going to stay awake?"

"I'll get though it, I'm bring snack to school tommorow if we have any left." I said snickering and letting Martha pick a TV show to watch.

-Next Morning-

I was drink the energy drink so I could stay alive and not accident hurt someone's emotions.

"Hopefully you don't run into Veronica today, for her own sake." Said Martha as I leaned on her for support.

"You look like hell." Said Veronica, I just glared at her talking a sip of my drink. "Oh. You didn't sleep?"

"Yeah. Me and Martha had a sleepover last night." I told her, be nice I told myself.

"Less sleep when it came to you?" Said Veronica before she was pulled away by something yellow.

"Bye..." said Martha and I before we headed to cafeteria. There was a female at our table, maybe she is a new student. Me and Martha sat in front of her. She was reading a book but she soon noticed us.

"Oh. Hello." She said putting down her book. "I'm Penny. Nice to meet you." Said Penny.

"Hey."

"Hello."

Martha and Penny soon got in discussion about the book Penmy was reading.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"(Y/n)." I said, busy being on my phone.

"It fits you." She said and I was questioning her motives.

"Thank you?" I said and she laughed.

"Are you not use to getting compliments?" She said. "You're kinda cute."

"I'm gonna go somewhere else now! Bye." I said getting my stuff and running off, not noticing the extra people listening to the conversation.

Hiding in the bathroom was a bad idea on my part but I wasn't think clearly.

"(Y/n)?" Questioned Veronica seeing me in a stall. "What are you doing here?" She questioned, seeing my red face. "Are you sick?"

"Didn't think you would ever sho-. What is wrong with you?" Said Chandler.

"She's red." Said Veronica.

The bell rang and I soon tried to run but someone got the back of my by bag, taking my energy drink.

"This isn't good for you, you know?" Said McNamara, going to pour it out.

"No! I didn't sleep last night so I kinda need that." I said struggling with Duke holding both of my arms.

"So you didn't get your beauty sleep... We will give it back if you tell us what got you so red and hiding." Said Chandler.

"It was the new girl, Penny. She called me cute and I freaked out."" I said and Veronica laughed.

"You really can't handle people flirting with you." Said Veronica, still laughing.

Then I felt Duke's breath on my neck and her leaning on my shoulder.

"You don't say?" She said and because of the other reaction, I was blushing. McNamara handed me my energy drink.

"Thank you." I said taking a few sips, trying to cool my face.

"No problem, sweetie." She said making me cough and choke on my drink.

"Are you trying to kill me?" I asked.

"No. Embarrase you, yes." Said Chandler.

"..." I have nothing else to say and have no clue what to do now. "Can I go now?" I asked.

"Hang on..." said Chandler, she put both her hands on my cheeks and leaned in, getting really closer. "That girl was right tho, you are cute." Said Chandler before backing away laughing. But this time I wasn't blushing because I expected it. I was pissed.

They noticed this.

"What I am I not good enough-?!"

"No!" I yelled getting out of Duke's grip. "No of you are! That the reason I don't worship you like the rest of the school because this is w-what you do. Mess with people!" I said barely low enough not to be yelling.

"(Y/n), calm down before you regret-." Said Veronica.

"You, I'm angry at too." I said.

"Me?"

"Yes! You go off to join the Heather's then I know you wrote that note that Martha got and you didn't even try to help her! She came to me upset and crying Veronica!" I said to her.

"Miss Emotional." Said Duke.

"... Screw staying here I rather be tartey or have dentention." I said heading out.

-Lunch time-

"I'm sorry Penny, I'm really not use to people flirting with me. Sorry if I upset you." I said.

"It's fine, I enjoyed your reactions. Plus you gave me a whole bag of chips and a sandwich." Said Penny, eating the food I gave her.

"So... I kinda made the Heathers and Veronica mad at me." I said.

"Who are they?"

"Why (Y/n)? I'm pretty sure they can get away with murder."

That were the two very different reactions I got.

"Heather are like the Queens of this jungle of a school and our friend, Veronica joined them earlier this week." I explained.

"Oh. (Y/n), you sound very screwed. I advise become homeschooled." Said Penny.

"Yeah but my mom is never home and my dad isn't that smart." I explained.

"Hey (Y/n). Saw you talking to the Heathers earlier today." Said Kurt, as he and Ram sat on both sides of me.

"Thinking you might be moving up in this world, thought I would give you a chance with us." Said Ram.

"No thanks." I said.

"Are you Homo?" Asked Kurt, acting like it 1989.

"Boys, its 2020. Grow up and learn some manners." I told them, trying to get them to back away.

But everything I've tried today seem to fail as the two boys leaned closer, onto me.

"You're just playing hard to get, sweetheart." One of them said. I've been though to much today emotional to deal with shit.

"(Y/n), are they bothering you?" Asked McNamara. I could not see her but seeing was Penny and Martha looked behind me, she was there.

"Yes." I said and the two boys were drag off the seat and away from me to the floor before I could see anything gruesome, or look behind me. Veronica sat beside me and pulled me into a hug and I yawn.

"You okay?" She asked.

"Mmm."

"I'm taking that's a yes. You sleepy?"

"Mmm."

"Okay." Said Veronica. She was warm and I had my eyes closed and I was slowly losing my conscious.

"Shut upp."

"Did she just tell me to shut up in her sleep?" I heard someone, clearly Chandler, say.

I was something really comfortable, more than Veronica. A bed? Martha? I was very confused and still kinda sleepy. My couch.

"Her room is a mess." Said Duke.

"If you don't like it, you can leave." I muttered, sitting up.

"Hey! We didn't have to save you from the two idoits earlier." Said Duke.

"They wouldn't have come after me if they didn't see me with you three." I told them, I yawned. "You know what I don't care."

"You really don't care? If someone messes with you?" Said McNamara.

"I'm to tired to care at the moment." I said.

"You just woke up." Said Chandler earning glare from me and she glared right back.

"And I would have stayed that way if I didn't hear your voice." I said before earning everyone's glares beside Veronica. "Okay, sorry. Just stop staring at me." I complained. Someone grabbed my chin hard making me look at them, Chandler.

"Do not insult me (Y/n)." She said making me and everyone else shiver.

"N-Noted. P-Please let my chin go so I wouldn't have a bruise." I said, but her gripped tighten. Getting a whimper out of me.

"Apologize."

"OKAY! I'M SORRY." I said and she finally let me go. That was definitely going to leave a bruise.

"Did you really have to do that?" Said Veronica, heading over to me.

"She needs to know who is in charge even if we aren't in school, Veronica." Said Chandler, glaring at Veronica who was checking on my forming bruise.

"You didn't need to hurt her!" Said Veronica, hugging me and I accepted the hug, hugging her back.

"Are you questioning me?" Asked Chandler, I could feel her glare on us.

"You can't be serious." Said Duke. "Don't defend her Veronica."

"..." McNamara was quiet for this.

"Get out." I said, letting Veronica go. "Now."

"You'll regret this (Y/n)." Said Chandler. I laughed at this.

"Oh?" I said, getting completely serious, knocking her off guard. "You can mess with in school but in my house, Chandler. This is my territory. So get out."

I clearly scared them, Chandler huffed.

"Fine. Veronica, this isn't over." She said before leaving my room with the other Heathers.

"You should go with them Veronica. I'm going to mess up this deal you have with them."

"It doesn't matter (Y/n)! She just injured you! I know they have their issues with you but injuring you is something else."

"...It's not the first time Veronica." I muttered and Veronica gasped. "There's a story, there was a time where there wasn't any shit between use. Last year of Middle School."

- 2016

I was a bright kid, making people happy and being nice was a thing I was great at. Diffently to my neighbor Heather McNamara, who's been making me call her McNamara since there was 2 other Heathers at the school.

I've hung out with the three of them a few times. They seemed to be nice but they were getting more popular with the other students.

I felt that we were drifting away from each other but me being myself, knew if that what was to make her happy, I was happy.

So I started talking to other people like Martha. Clearly someone didn't like it as I was pulled in a closed off classroom one break period.

"(Y/n)." Said Chandler. "We tolerate you but your just not caring."

I was bullying confused.

"Not caring?" I questioned.

"About your reputation at this school! You've started hanging out with Martha now, like you're wanting to be her friend." Said Duke and I made a face.

"(Y/n)." Said McNamara and I looked her in the eyes. "Don't you see what we've been trying to give you? You could have all the power over these students. You'll be at the top with me!"

"Well below us but above everyone else." Said Chandler.

"Nah." I said.

"What?" Said McNamara.

"You aren't hanging out with the right people Heather but I'm not gonna stop you but I'm not helping." I said before leaving.

But Chandler had others ideas and grabbed my arm and dug her nails into my skin.

"Stop thinking like a fool for once. We are offer you power and popularity and you say no to us?" She said.

"Y-yes?" I told her before she pulled me closer to her.

"You are going to regret this, I swear." She said letting me go and pushing me out of the classroom. I stumbled to get my standing.

"(Y/n) there you are!" Said Martha and I turned to face her. She was dragging a tall lanky girl behind her. "I want you to meet my other bestie, Veronica." Said Martha.

"It's nice to meet you Veronica. I'm happy to finally do so since Martha talks about you as much as her taste in movies." I said.

"Right back at ya." Said Veronica. "Did you get...um injured?" She asked looking at my arm. There was bloody nail marks on my arm let by the one and not only Heather, Chandler.

"I probably scratched it on something, don't worry. I got bandaids in my bag but worry if we get in class on time." I said noticing the time.

-2020

"I'm gonna murder them." Said Veronica.

"Calm down. That's in the past and it would have stayed there if someone wasn't a fool and joined them." I said. "What were you even thinking?! Things with them never end well with the other party." I exploded at her before she pulled me into a hug. I felt she was crying.

"I'm sorry." She muttered.

"Me too."

- NEXT DAY

Veronica had left and I've haven't seen her at school. She wasn't with the Heather's. I sat with Penny and Martha as normal.

"Penny, I've given you enough time to realise that we aren't popular at all. Like being seen with us will lower it for you." I told her and she just giggles.

"I don't really care about that. I enjoy both of your friendships and I love turning your red in the morning (Y/n)." Said Penny. What is with her and flirting with me every morning?

I turn red still being not use to it and Martha laughs at my misery.

"I've never seen anyone who takes a compliment like you, like no one notices your beauti."

"Ahahaha." I nervously laughed.

"So you're the Penny, (Y/n) was talking about." Said Veronica, out of nowhere with the Heathers. Weren't they mad at her? Penny and I turned around in our seats to face them.

"So you've been talking about me? I'm flattered." Said Penny. "But yes I am that Penny, what do you want?" She said with a different tone altogether, making me nervous.

"Back off of what's not yours." Said Chandler.

What? I'm not anyone's.

"Who said?" Asked Penny. "(Y/n) is a single female and fits all I like in a girl."

"W-wait what?" I said.

"Be quiet for me honey please." Said Penny.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I actually listened.

"You can't actually think you'll win against us." Said Duke.

"And if you do win, what are you going to do then? Fight each other? Because I know you incapable of sharing." Said Penny. "I went to middle school with all of you. I know how you've fought over her then and then decided to hate her when she said no to your little plan of popularity."

I'm super happy everyone decided to leave, probably because the Heathers threatened them.

"Stalker much?" Said Duke.

"I was always on the side line but it doesn't matter." Said Penny. She didn't answer the question. "(Y/n) has already said no to the three of you, why try again?"

"I'm confused. You liked me back then?" I questioned.

"It was obvious." Said McNamara.

"To a normal person! I can be dense as fuck when it comes to romance!" I told her.

"We noticed." Said Duke and Penny put an arm around me and pulled me closer earning glares and growles from the others.

"I'm sorry but I can't let you have this." Said Penny before putting a hand on my face and turned me to look at her.

"Penny?" I questioned.

"I know it is unlikely for you to chose me but it wouldn't stop me from trying." She said before kissing me on my lips, stealing my first kiss.

It ended as quickly as it happened because I was pulled away and out of my seat and McNamara had her arms me and held my back towards her.

I looked behind me and at her and she moved her hand to mouth and wipe off was probably Penny's lipstick.

I couldn't focus on what the others were doing, probably yelling at Penny, knowing they couldn't truly harm her physically.

"Are you okay?" Asked McNamara, seeming to know I was in a daze.

"I'm feeling out of it. Probably because the shock of 5 girls actually like me and one just kissed me." I said truthfully.

"Ah... I'm sorry for all of this."

"Me too." I mumbled.

1/13/2020

This has been a year and 2 day long thing. I'd lost interest in it for awhile but I reread it and fixed it and finished it. Clearly it's not done but it felt how this part should end.

Forgiving for what they've caused the other, knowing or not. I know this isn't my normal gender neutral but this is one of my passion of my love of women and before I started doing all my writing gender neutral.

#heathers x reader #heathers #heathers musical #female reader

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