#when they said gender was a social construct they really were right huh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honibee-arts · 4 years

Note

dramatic villain nie huaisang and hero jiang cheng? maybe nie huaisang flirts with the hero while jiang cheng is kinda horny but has a duty to fulfill?

Just a warning this gets a little steamy but its a kind of pan to the window vibe. I will mark this as NSFWish text to be safe though.

"Jie, I don't think I can get all of these people out of here in time.” Jiang Cheng panted into his headset, holding the crumbling ceiling up with one arm, watching the people run out.

He heard his sister sigh, her manicured nails clicking against her keyboard.

“Lightbearer and Moonbeam should be on the scene in the next two minutes.” she replied.

“Jie, I don’t have two minutes. This building is going to collapse in the next thirty fucking seconds.”

“A-Cheng, language.”

“I’m holding up a building, I don’t even have super strength. I’m gonna die like this. Can’t you tell them to hurry up?” He grit his teeth. He’s going to have a fucking hernia and broken bones after this shit, and he was going to make that stoic asshole Lightbearer pay for his goddamn medical bills. He probably had more than enough money.

“They’re going as fast as they can, A-Cheng.”

“And your boyfriend couldn’t come and help?”

“A-Xuan’s taking A-Ling today so you could patrol, remember?”

“It’s hard to remember when I’m being crushed.”

Jiang Cheng widened his stance, pushing the crumbling ceiling back up with both hands, growling in pain. Black spots began to gather in his vision, his static flickering across his visor from the strain on his suit.

“We’ll take it from here, thank you, Violet Spider.” Came Moonbeam’s firm yet gentle tone, taking the weight literally off of Jiang Cheng’s shoulders.

“About fucking time.” He wheezed, taking a deep breath as his arms dropped by his sides, wincing in pain.

“Would appreciate some gratitude.” Lightbearer huffed petulantly as he helped his brother carefully lift the falling ceiling back up, holding it there in an eerie white glow.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes as the remaining people rushed past them, scrambling to get out of there as quickly as possible. Jiang Cheng didn’t blame them in their haste, not one bit. He didn’t like being the one to hold that shit up.

“Are you alright, A-Cheng?” His sister asked in his earpiece, the display on his visor recalibrating.

“Yeah, yeah. Just. Exhausted...” he stood back and caught his breath.

“I’ll make sure to have some lotus rib soup for you when you get home, A-Cheng. I’ll check over your injuries too.”

“A-Jie, you don’t need to do that.”

“Aiya, hush. It’s nothing. I’ll check what the damages are to your suit too.”

“A-Jie...”

“No buts, A-Cheng.”

He sighed and looked down, his hair falling over his visor as he stared at the rubble beneath his feet.

“I’m going to have the longest goddamn nap in history after this.”

“You deserve it, A-Cheng.” A-Jie hummed. “Thank you, A-Xuan.” she said softly, sipping what Jiang Cheng assumed was a cup of tea handed to her by her boyfriend.

In his visor, purple warning symbols flared up in his periphery.

“A-Cheng-”

“On it.” He said as he spotted a flare of green a few blocks away. Gritting his teeth against the ache in his arms, Jiang Cheng jumped up onto the wall of the nearest building, scaling it as quickly as possible and sprinting across the rooftops.

Sometimes, only sometimes, Jiang Cheng hated this fucking job. Sure, he could have a normal 9-5 job and earn a stable income, but no, he just had to be born the son of Yunmeng’s protector and inherit her powers and mantle, along with a load of fucking pressure. He just had to have been trained intensely by his mother, day in and day out from the second his powers manifested at 11. He just had to have had the heroes instinct and the motto of “Attempt the impossible” drummed into him since he was a child.

As much as he wanted to push back against his instinct to protect in favour of his exhaustion sometimes, he couldn’t stop himself.

The blasts led him to the Jin Corporation office building in Yunping, only a half mile from the crumbling building he was just almost crushed under.

“A-Jie, the source is coming from the Jin Corp. offices in Yunping.”

“Mm. I saw. The building that you were just in was a Jin owned business too.” She replied thoughtfully.

“Does your boyfriend know anything about someone that might have been slated by his father? Cousin maybe?”

“Nothing. I know Jin Guangyao had a complicated relationship with Red Blade. There were rumours about him having something to do with his retirement.”

‘Retirement’ had been a delicate way of putting what happened to Red Blade. When Jiang Cheng had first come onto the hero scene, Red Blade had taken him under his wing. He had been something of an older brother figure, despite being the protector of Qinghe rather than Yunmeng.

He had been familiar with Jiang Cheng’s abilities, having also been mentored by Jiang Cheng’s predecessor. Everyone knew and respected Red Blade. His super strength and speed was matched by none, in his prime he could leap a building in a single bound and punch a meteor out of the sky without so much as a single scratch. With all that power however, came a price. Red Blade had been prone to feral rages which were difficult to pull him out of, very few people could. Moonbeam seemed to be the only one beside whoever was in his ear all the time who could do it.

About six months ago, Red Blade had disappeared for three days. Moonbeam had found him snarling and bleeding from his eyes, his right arm severed and his eyes white. How Red Blade had survived, Jiang Cheng had no idea. After a few weeks in a medically induced coma, Red Blade had announced his retirement and hung up his mantle for good. Only Moonbeam was said to know what had happened to him following his retirement. There was sometime unspoken between those two that Jiang Cheng couldn’t quite figure out but stank of probably resolved sexual tension.

“Shit!” Jiang Cheng cursed, narrowly avoiding a blast of green energy, rolling onto the nearest roof and ducking for cover.

“A-Cheng.” A-Jie chided.

“Like you didn’t say worse when you were being shot at.” Jiang Cheng argued, sending a bolt of violet lighting back.

“Back in the day, I didn’t run my mouth like a sailor, A-Cheng.”

“I bet you don’t miss this part of heroing, huh?”

“There are times I am grateful I took a permanent maternity leave, yes.” She replied. “A-Cheng! On your left! Someone’s coming your way, and its not anyone on the Lotus servers. Be on your guard.”

Jiang Cheng nodded and raised his hackles as a a figure cloaked in blinding green energy floated onto the building, their black heels clicking against the concrete roof. As soon as the figure was close enough, Jiang Cheng shot a bolt of lightning in their direction, yet, to his horror, it was deflected easily.

“Come on out little spider, I won’t hurt you.” The figure said.

Jiang Cheng swallowed thickly and stepped out, hackles still raised.

“Aiya, so defensive. Put your arms down so I can see your pretty face. I won’t try anything.” Jiang Cheng slowly lowered his arms but kept his guard up, stance firm. “So stubborn. That’s better though, hello handsome.”

The figure was slender, androgynous with long, dark hair that shone in their eerie green glow and flowed behind them in the wind, their eyes afire with the energy that seemed pulse from their entire being, almost drawing Jiang Cheng in like a moth to a particularly deadly yet hard to resist flame. Their body was wrapped in a skin-tight leather-like substance with mesh panels, leaving even less to the imagination, half of their face obscured by a mask that started at the neck and wrapped around his mouth and nose.

Jiang Cheng swallowed thickly, ready to burst into action whenever necessary.

“And what should I call you?” Jiang Cheng said steadily.

“Well, I go by he/him pronouns, but I do quite like it when sexy men like you call me beautiful.” He giggled, bouncing on his heels a little. “Binary terms are horseshit anyway, gender is a social construct.”

“Not what I meant but. I don’t like misgendering people. Even if they’re tearing up half the fucking city. So. Thanks.”

“Well, I haven’t really given myself a name yet.” The man hummed, snapping open one of the fans in his hand and fluttering it lightly. “Kinda just wanted to do one thing and hang up the whole thing I guess.”

“And you wanted to what, not get caught?”

“Well, something of the sort.”

“And you assumed you could do this tearing up half the city looking like a green lava lamp dressed like a hooker?”

“A-Cheng! Be nice!”

“Yes, listen to your sister, A-Cheng.”

“How do you know that!” Jiang Cheng snapped, his hands sparking.

“Whoa, whoa, easy hot stuff, I mean you and your family no harm. You have your headset on way too loud and everyone can hear you saying A-Jie so. Go figure.”

“Alright... I’ll be more mindful in the future.”

“He seems genuine, A-Cheng. I’m going to log off for now, but I’ll keep an eye on your vitals and see if you seem like you need help.”

“Alright...” He heard the line go quiet, her lotus icon in the corner of his visor going totally transparent.

“Is it just us?” The man asked.

“Yeah. Just us. So. What the fuck is your deal?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“The Jin corporation have fucked plenty of innocent people over, but there are also innocent people in that tower you’re trying to destroy.”

“They’re collateral. I’ve accepted those losses.” The man said, his demeanour turning cold suddenly.

“Are you fucking crazy?”

“You wouldn’t understand my motivations.” The man turned around and stared ahead at the slowly burning building ahead of them.

“Ugh, what is it with villains and cryptic bullshit? I can’t let you wreck the fucking building, okay?”

“Watch me.”

Jiang Cheng lunged and grabbed his arm, earning a blast of green energy to his solar plexus that sent him staggering. Today was not his day.

“If you want a fight, then fine.” The man said, rolling his shoulders. “I’m just sorry I’ll have to kick that glorious ass of yours.”

Jiang Cheng felt his cheeks flush.

“Oh please, the spandex doesn’t hide shit.” The man said before lunging at Jiang Cheng.

Yeah, okay. This was a day Jiang Cheng really hated his fucking job. His muscles screamed with exhaustion as the man tackled him to the roof, straddling him and pinning his arms above his head. Maybe he was tired and his resolve was slipping, or maybe he had been rocking a semi for a fair amount of the fight and could admit this man was fucking hot despite his different side of the law.

The tightly coiled strength in his deceivingly slender limbs forced Jiang Cheng down as he straddled his lap. As he brushed his groin, Jiang Cheng let out a slight groan.

“Hold on,” The man said, sitting back. “Are you hard? Does fighting me turn you on?”

“Sh-Shut up! Are we gonna fight or not?!” He struggled under his grip.

Fuck, okay. The man was right. This was humiliating. Why does he enjoy this?

“I dunno, do you want some help with that?” The man purred, his long, thick lashes fanning over his cheeks as he leaned in closer, shifting his hips ever so slightly and earning another groan from Jiang Cheng.

“Are you crazy? I’m meant to be fighting you!”

“I know but, I kinda like this vibe we have going. Do you?”

Jiang Cheng bit his lip and looked away, nodding.

“I need a verbal yes.”

“You care about that?”

“I’m an anarchist not a monster, damn. Answer me.”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I... I like... this.”

“And is it a yes that you consent to this rooftop encounter?”

“C’mon I already said-”

“Yes or no spider. I won’t take that horseshit for an answer.”

“... Yes. I would like you to. Help me out.”

“Good,” he hummed, hooking a black gloved finger in his mask and tugging it down, revealing soft, pink lips pulled into a suggestive smirk. “I’m glad to be of service.” and he leaned down to press his lips to Jiang Cheng’s.

#sangcheng #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #nie huaisang #mdzs #cql #cheng qing ling #the untamed #mo dao zhu shi #ship prompts #nsfwi-sh text #my shitty writing

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Little Star

Summary: Ashton isn’t the only one wrapped around his little girl’s finger.

A/N: My brain child with @creator-appreciator grows.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part 1

“I want about 6. 8. I’m gonna go hard,” Ashton’s voice said through Sam’s phone. From on the other side of the couch, Ashton’s real voice asked, “Why are you watching that interview? It’s like… 2, 3 years ago.”

“6 or 8 kids, huh?” Sam asked in lieu of answering him.

Ashton shrugged. “I mean, I dunno. Be nice I suppose. But also I was just being stupid.”

“So, like 1 would be fine for the time being?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want to have a baby? Like now?”

“Well… not now now. But like 9-ish months now? How would you feel about that?”

“A-are you saying what I think you’re saying? Are you pregnant? Are we having a baby?”

“I have an appointment tomorrow to confirm. But yeah. Pretty sure.”

“I-” he started, but launched himself across the couch to give her a hard kiss instead. “What time is your appointment?”

“You want to come with me?”

“Of course I want to come with you! We’re having a baby!”

“Fletch, you’re crying,” Sam said, wiping her thumb across her husband’s cheek.

“Good tears,” he sniffed, his hands rubbing along her stomach. “Oh, I can’t wait to meet you.”

~~~

Ashton’s hand tightened its grip on Sam as they heard the rapid “swwwoooop swwwoooop swwwoooop” of their baby’s heartbeat on the monitor. “You okay?” Sam chuckled, flexing her hand.

“Terrified,” he whispered back in awe. He crooked his index finger at the screen in a little wave. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m your daddy.”

Sam swallowed thickly, tears forming in her eyes. “You are already so loved, little one,” she choked out.

~~~

The wait to 12 weeks to break the news to everyone was nothing short of torture for everyone all around as Ashton and Sam didn’t trust themselves to be around their friends without blurting out the news. So when Ashton finally corralled everyone over, Calum hugged Sam tightly before slugging Ashton in the arm as hard as he could, Luke and Michael following suit, the girls much nicer in just giving the couple both a hug hello

“Ow!” Ashton hissed through his teeth, rubbing his arm. “The fuck was that for?”

“Haven’t seen you guys in like a month. So what the fuck is going on?” Calum demanded, getting straight to the point.

“Sit down. We have presents for you all to make up for being shitty friends these last few weeks,” Sam said, gesturing for them to have a seat.

“You’re not a shitty friend, princess,” Calum told her.

“Gee thanks…” Ashton rolled his eyes.

Michael laughed. “Seriously what Cal said. You guys just got married. Of course you’re gonna fall out of contact for a while.”

“Will you two shut up? If they feel bad and want to give us presents, let them give us presents!” Luke put in.

“Oh relax, you’ll get your present, partner,” Sam chuckled. “Fletch?”

“Yep, on it.” Ashton gave each couple a small little box. “They’re couple gifts, so sorry about that part. But we’re pretty sure you’ll love it.”

“Do we all open them together or?” Calum questioned.

“Yeah, you can open them all together,” Sam suggested, sitting back, excitement coursing through both her and Ashton as they awaited their friends’ reactions.

There was a sharp intake of breath as the lids popped open and the sonograms fell into laps. Then, “DIBS ON GODFATHER!” Calum, Luke, and Michael all shouted at once.

“What?! No! Fuck you guys! I’m godfather!” Calum claimed.

“Fuck you, Crystal and I are actually married too. We should be godparents.”

“Sierra and I are engaged! That should count!” Luke protested.

“No! I’m godfather. I’m original bub. Em’s is Sam’s childhood best friend. I officiated their fuckin’ wedding! I should be godfather! It makes the most sense,” Calum kept defending his stance.

“Would you three shut up?” Emily asked with an eye roll. “They’re having a fuckin’ baby!”

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be congratulating them,” Sierra put in.

“Oh, a baby!” Crystal beamed, her eyes watering. “Michael isn’t that great?!”

“See?!” Calum pointed a finger at Michael. “Your wife wants a baby! You can’t have a baby and be godfather to Ash and Sam’s baby, you greedy fuck.”

“Okay, but if Crystal and I have a baby then we should definitely be godparents because we’d be actual fuckin’ parents,” Michael pointed out.

“I want to be godfather!” Luke pouted.

“You can all be godfather,” Ashton and Sam compromised.

“Unacceptable!” the guys screeched, rising to their feet. “There’s only one way to settle this,” Calum decided. “Godfather Olympics. Diaper changing. Feeding. Taking care of one of those robot babies,” he ticked each idea off on his fingers. “And… something else. We need at least 4 in the event of a tie. Oh! Best lullaby to soothe the baby with.”

“Someone get me a tortilla, and a bottle of mustard and ketchup,” Michael said, seeming to agree with Calum’s demands. “Gotta put it in writing.”

To give them all fair enough time to write a lullaby, the events were spread out over a course of the next four months. The problem ended up being that Calum won diaper changing, Michael won feeding, and then they both tied with the robot baby. The lullaby was supposed to be the tie-breaker, but Luke pulled through for his first victory- after literally crying to Ashton to help him win at least one event.

“Well, Mike and I are still tied for first, so good job to Luke, I guess. But he still lost,” Calum said, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah, that’s nice,” Sam said, not really paying attention because Duke was curled up on her swollen abdomen. “Yeah, you love your baby, don’t you Dukey?” she asked, scratching the dog’s ears. Blue was too big to lay on Sam, but the pup’s ears perked up at the word “baby” and her nose came up to nuzzle into Sam’s ribs. “Oh, yes, Blue, that’s your baby too, I know,” Sam told her, petting Blue’s head with her other hand.

“Looks like the dogs are better godparents than the actual humans,” Ashton giggled.

Sam gasped, “Fletch! That’s a great idea! What do you think, Dukey? You wanna be the baby’s godfather?”

“What?!” Luke cried in outrage. “You’re gonna pick the dogs?!”

“You lost!” Calum and Michael told him.

“So, why aren’t you angry?!”

Michael shrugged, “Honestly, it sounds like something we’d do.”

“Yeah,” Calum admitted with a sigh of defeat. “No one gets their feelings hurt this way.”

“Okay, but it’s still kinda unfair to me because I only have 1 dog,” Luke chimed back in.

“So do I,” Calum told him.

Michael snorted, “Yeah right. Blue is basically your dog like Duke is, Cal. Leaving me and you tied again at 2 a piece, and Luke with his sad 1 point.”

“Okay, but they’re dogs. They’re not gonna know the difference,” Calum said.

“So, why don’t we all just share being godfather?” Luke suggested.

Ashton shared an eye roll with Sam before going, “Genius idea, Luke! Can’t believe we didn’t think of that before.”

“I sense sarcasm.”

“Whatever,” Calum said, moving past the Godfather Olympics that declared no real winner. “Now, that we’ve decided we’re all gonna be godfather, can we know what our godkid’s name is?”

“Well, we don’t want to know the gender because Sam-” Ashton started to explain but Sam cut him off.

“Because gender is a social construct. So we’re doing it old-school and waiting.”

“Okay but do you have name ideas at least?”

Ashton smiled sheepishly, shaking his head. “We’re still figuring that out. Sorry guys.”

“A nursery theme then?”

“Space,” they both answered.

The guys nodded in agreement. “Alright, we can work with that.”

~~~

As Operation Starry Night Nursery went underway, Ashton brought up the topic of names. “We only got a couple more months until this little one makes their appearance. They kinda need a name, baby.”

“I know,” Sam said with a weary sigh. “I kinda like the name Stella if it’s a girl.”

“Stella? That’s not even your favorite All Time Low song.”

Sam laughed, smacking his chest lightly. “Not after an All Time Low song! It means ‘star.’ Like how the nursery is spaced-themed.”

“Well her middle name can’t be Rosa because I don’t want people thinking I named my daughter after a beer.”

Sam gave out another snort of laughter. “No! Jesus, Fletch. Stella Grace.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s really pretty. But what if we have a boy?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. And I don’t know if it’s because I just don’t like my ideas. Or if it’s because I don’t think we’ll need a boy name.”

“Weeeeeelllllll…” Ashton said slowly, drawing out the word, his gaze flickering over to the nightstand littered with sonogram pictures and an envelope that held the gender. “We could find out. If you want.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “You really wanna know, huh?”

“I really do,” Ashton told her, pulling the puppy dog face. “Like so fuckin’ bad. And I know I shouldn’t. But… yeah.”

“Oh, thank God!” Sam laughed in relief. “I want to know too. Gimme the damn envelope!”

Ashton quickly gave it to her, drumming his hands on his thighs for a drum roll, adding to the effect by beatboxing a drum beat to go with it, while Sam tore into the envelope. “Baby Irwin is… a girl! We’re having a girl!” she cheered with a gleeful laugh.

Ashton let out a choked giggle, a tear sliding down his cheek as his hands flew to Sam’s stomach. “Is that what you are? Huh? Are you my little star, Stella?”

There was a ripple of movement underneath his hands that had him and Sam both giggling more. “Yeah? You like that name? Oh, there are so many people waiting to meet you, Stella. People who love you more than you’ll ever know.”

~~~

“Twinkle twinkle, little star,” Ashton sang softly as he danced slowly around the room with Stella in his arms.

“Ashton Irwin, professional rock musician, singing lullabies in a hospital room,” Sam teased lightly. “Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming.”

“If it is a dream, let me sleep,” he answered. “I don’t ever wanna wake up from this.”

“Well, get your time in now. You know once the guys get her, you’re never getting her back. Shit, Calum and Emily might move in if we’re not careful.”

Ashton chuckled at the thought. “Might just all move into Mike’s. He’s got enough rooms.”

“While that’s not half bad, I’d rather not raise my baby in a mansion. She’s gonna be spoiled enough as is. Would like her to have some semblance of normal.”

“When have we ever been normal?”

Sam laughed, “Yeah, I suppose your right. But you guys did work hard on the nursery. So we probably shouldn’t move.”

“Yeah, plus I kinda like our house.”

“Me too.”

“Knock, knock,” Calum announced softly, rapping his knuckles against the open door, Emily behind him.

“Hey,” Sam greeted with a smile. “Where’s everyone else?”

“We didn’t wanna crowd you guys, so we’re taking turns. Michael and I played Rock, Paper, Scissors for first slot.”

“And what about Luke?” Ashton asked with a giggle.

“He cheated at Godfather Olympics so he was disqualified. You’ll see him last. Now gimme da baby.” He made grabby hands before taking the bundle from Ashton, cradling the infant carefully to him. “Oh, hey there, little one. I’m your Uncle Cal. And this is your Auntie Emily.”

“Can you say hi to them, Stella?” Ashton asked in a quiet, but higher pitched tone, the type of voice one adopts around newborns.

“Stella?” Calum asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. “That’s not your favorite All Time Low song.”

Sam facepalmed herself. “I did not name my daughter after an All Time Low song. I gave her that name because her father loves space and her name means ‘star.’ Jesus…”

“Her middle name isn’t Rosa, is it?”

“Jesus, it’s like you two are twins…” Sam said with an eye roll as Ashton busted up in a fit of giggles. “No. It’s Grace. Stella Grace.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful little girl,” Emily commented. “Now gimme that baby.”

“Fine, fine,” Calum huffed, handing over Stella. “Oh, Mike said he had news. Won’t tell us what. Said he wanted to tell you guys first.

“Oh?” Ashton and Sam asked.

Calum shrugged. “No idea. But he seems excited.”

The rest of the short visit passed in silence aside from the cooed voices at Stella, asking her if she knew that she was the cutest little girl. At the fifteen minute mark, Michael appeared in the doorway with Crystal and a teddy bear. “Time’s up, Cal,” Michael said with a knowing smirk.

“Kiss ass,” Calum scoffed, jerking his chin at the teddy bear.

“It’s not from us,” Michael answered innocently.

“Whatever,” Calum rolled his eyes playfully. He crossed the room to give Sam a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations, princess. She’s gorgeous just like her momma.”

“Thanks, bub. Em. See you guys later?”

“Yeah, we’ll all visit again when you guys get settled back home,” Emily promised.

“So who’s this?” Michael asked, taking Stella from Calum in a gentle manner and Calum and Emily made their exit.

“This is Stella Grace. And Stella, this is your Uncle Mike and Auntie Crystal,” Ashton introduced.

“Oh, well aren’t you precious!” Crystal exclaimed, tears brimming in her eyes. “Isn’t she the sweetest, Michael?”

“Yeah, she’s a cutie,” Michael agreed. “Hey, Stella, we brought you a present. Only it’s not from us. It’s from a friend of yours, actually.”

“Yeah, Cal said you had news? Is that tied to the bear?” Sam prompted.

“Yeah. So, when you guys announced you were pregnant, Crystal and I got to talking. And we didn’t want to feel like we were trying to upstage you guys or anything, so we kept talking. But then talking got carried away. And… well, I'm sure you can guess.”

“Pregnant?” Sam croaked at Crystal.

Crystal nodded shyly. “Yeah. Just passed the three month mark.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Ashton said with a big smile, clapping Michael on the shoulder, before giving Crystal a tight hug.

“Oh, congratulations, guys!” Sam told them. “Another little one, Fletch, can you believe it? Stella, you’re getting a cousin!”

Stella opened her mouth in a tiny yawn, making Michael giggle with glee. “Yeah, that’s right! We’re getting a friend just for you. They won’t be here for a bit to say hello, so they asked if we could give you this teddy bear for now. Is that okay? Can the teddy bear be your friend until your real friend gets here?”

“That’s fuckin’ awesome, Mike. I’m so happy for you guys,” Ashton said, his cheeks sore from his grin.

“Thanks, mate.” Michael gave Stella over to Crystal, and then sat down on the hospital bed next to Sam, pulling her towards him in a side hug. “I think I officially won on the nicknames, queen. You got quite the princess over there.”

Sam laughed in agreement, “Yeah, I think you did too. Just don’t tell Cal.”

He held up a pinky for her to interlock hers with. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“Is it my turn yet?” Luke’s voice piped up.

“Get in here,” Ashton beckoned, wrapping an arm around Luke’s shoulder. “Come meet Stella.”

“Aw, cuz she’s a star!” Sierra connected the dots.

“Huh, I thought it was cuz of All Time Low.” Michael shrugged. “Oh well.”

“Jack Barakat from All Time Low?” Luke asked with a dumb grin.

“Oh, shit!” Ashton said, clapping a hand to his back pocket for his phone. “That reminds me I have people to call. Fuck, Mum’s gonna be so pissed I spaced… I’ll be right back. Baby, you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Fletch.”

When Crystal handed Stella to Luke, he made big eyes over at Sierra. “Oh! Can we have one?!” he pleaded.

“Funny story,” Michael coughed.

Sierra tore her eyes away from Stella to shoot Crystal a look. “Are you pregnant?!”

“13 weeks tomorrow,” Crystal confirmed.

Luke broke down sobbing, and from the hallway they heard an angry, “Oh, come on!” from Calum before the man appeared in the room. “Luke found out before me?! Luke?!” he whisper-shouted at Michael.

“What were you doing in the hallway?” was the deflection.

“Well, after you came in here, I went to the gift shop since how someone broke the no gift rule. And when I went to the waiting room, Luke was gone, so I figured he was here.”

“Wait, we were allowed to bring gifts?” Luke asked in confusion, passing Stella to Sierra. “Damn it! No one tells me anything!”

“You’re telling me! Mike, seriously? Luke?!”

“We were planning on telling everyone later on. With the exception of Ash and Sam of course,” Crystal explained. “But Luke just asked Sierra for a baby, so it slipped out.”

“I guess that’s fair…” Calum huffed.

“Wait, so are we allowed to bring gifts or not?” Luke repeated his question.

“No,” Calum and Michael told him. “Mike and Crystal broke the rule on a technicality. Their gift to Stella is really from their baby. And the gift shop sucks. Can find better shit online for half the price,” Calum furthered explained. “Where’d Ash go?”

“I stepped out to call my Mum,” Ashton said from behind Calum. “She wants pictures. Sam, you up for that?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Fletch.”

“Alright, family photo time. Get in,” Ashton directed and set up his camera, before sitting on the other side of Sam and taking Stella from Sierra. “Say ‘twinkle twinkle little star.’”

“Twinkle twinkle, little star!” everyone grinned as the camera went off in a series of little spurts.

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @ashtonlftv @miirandaaa @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @cashtonisruiningmylife @another-lonely-heart-blog @cullen-collective

#little star #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #5sos #bub spin off series #dad!ashton #uncle!sos #calpal irwin

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perlukafarinn · 5 years

Note

4 + 39, Destiel, obviously

Mistaken for a couple + Kid ficThis got really long (2.4k words) but I have no regrets.

In October, Dean has an unremarkable one night stand with a woman named Lydia. He doesn’t hear from her again but eleven months later, he’s suddenly a single father to a baby girl who just survived the car crash that killed her mother.

It’s a lot of change in a short amount of time, especially considering he doesn’t know of Emma’s existence until he gets the call from the hospital. He’s responsible for a whole ass person now - a tiny, fragile person who won’t stop crying and who screams bloody murder whenever Dean tries to put her in a car seat.

The little hypocrite is fine with the bus, so Dean resigns himself to public transport for the next while. Dealing with dirty looks from his fellow passengers as Emma cries her head off is easier than the alternative. At least it’s regular crying, not those demonic shrieks she makes in the car.

“Maybe you’re holding her wrong.”

Dean glares at Cas, who’s in the seat next to him. He’s been taking the bus with them ever since Dean brought Emma home, and although Dean is grateful for the company that doesn’t mean he’s gonna put up with unsolicited criticisms.

“Maybe you should shove it.”

“Hand her over,” Cas says, ignoring him.

Dean hesitates but then complies. Maybe the tiny bit of distance will make the endless crying more bearable.

Cas takes her carefully into his arms, supporting her head like the nurse at the hospital had shown Dean and cradling her to his chest. He bounces her just slightly and then, miracle of miracles, her crying starts to die down.

Dean stares at him in wonder. “How did you do that?”

Cas shrugs. He’s looking down at Emma with a small, gentle smile and Dean feels something in his chest clench at the sight.

“What a sweet girl you two have,” coos a woman sitting across the aisle from them.

It takes Dean a moment to realize she’s misinterpreted the situation. He wonders if he should correct her but before he can, Cas answers, “Thank you.”

Unfortunately, the woman takes that as her cue to continue the conversation. “Did you adopt?”

“No,” Cas responds dryly. “Dean forgot the condom.”

“O-oh.”

She stops bothering them after that and a couple of stops later, she’s off.

“So,” Dean says as soon as she’s gone, “is it an open relationship or did I cheat?”

“You cheated,” Cas answers without hesitating. “Hussy.”

The zoo is Emma’s favorite place in the world. Dean’s not crazy about it himself but he’s a sucker for those big blue eyes of hers so they go every week - twice, if Emma’s feeling fussy.

Cas always joins them, even though he must have better things to do. Dean expected his social life to suffer since becoming a single parent, and it has, but he’s seen more of Cas in the past few months than in the last three years combined.

(It probably helps that Cas is divorced now - Daphne never could stand Dean.)

It’s early Saturday afternoon but the slight drizzle keeps most people away. Dean has Emma strapped to his chest, shielding her from the rain with an umbrella, but he gets the feeling she wouldn’t notice it anyway. Their first stop is one of the monkey cages and Emma is captivated, shrieking with laughter and babbling cheerful nonsense at the unimpressed looking monkeys.

“I don’t get why she’s so obsessed with those things,” Dean says.

“I do.” Cas crouches, holding out a finger to Emma who grasps it in her chubby hand. “It’s because she’s a monkey herself.”

“Don’t listen to him, Em,” Dean tells his daughter, taking her unoccupied hand and kissing it. “You’re the cutest little girl in the world.”

Cas straightens and shoots him a wry smile. “Is that why you put that bow in her hair? Or is it because of that woman who told you how handsome your son is?”

Dean pats Emma’s head, careful not to disturb the pink bow clinging precariously to a few strands of hair. That woman was not the first person to confuse Emma for a boy, probably because most of her clothes are hand-me-downs from Cas’ nephew, Jack.

“No,” he lies, because he’s not up for another one of Cas’ lectures about how gender is a construct.

They watch the monkeys a while longer, since Emma can’t seem to get enough of them. The drizzle is starting to turn into proper rain so Cas huddles close, underneath Dean’s umbrella

Eventually, Dean decides they need to check out the rest of the zoo. He begins to walk away from the cage but Emma starts immediately wailing, reaching both hands out to the monkeys.

“Let her stay a little longer,” Cas says.

“If it were up to her, we’d never leave. We can’t give in every time she starts crying, she’ll stop as soon as she sees something else she likes.”

“Ten more minutes.”

Dean rolls his eyes but relents. Next to him, a woman who just arrived with her baby in a stroller laughs.

“Sucks to have to be the strict one, huh?” she asks.

“Oh, we’re not-” Dean cuts himself off, because why bother. “Yeah, it does.”

“My husband is just as bad,” she confides. “He would let this one get away with murder if it weren’t for me.”

Dean hums. Cas isn’t paying attention to the conversation, too busy reading the plaque in front of the cage.

“I would have figured it would be twice as bad with two daddies, but you seem to be doing okay.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The woman cranes her neck, peering curiously around Dean at Cas. “Which one of you is her real dad?”

A shot of annoyance goes through Dean and he answers without thinking, “We’re both her real dads.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t. Cas,” Dean adds a little louder. “C'mon, let’s check out the tapirs.”

Emma starts wailing again as they walk away but like Dean predicted, she stops as soon as she spots something else to occupy her interest - in this case, a big rock.

“We’re both her real dads?” Cas asks.

Dean blushes. “Sorry. I just hate it when people talk about family not being real, just because you’re not related by blood.”

“I know.”

“Didn’t mean to drag you into it.”

“It’s fine. I do consider you and Emma to be my family.”

Dean swallows past the lump that’s suddenly formed in his throat. “Yeah. Well. Right back at you.”

He ignores the flutter of hope in his chest. That way only lies danger.

Dean is expecting some tears on Emma’s first day of pre-school. If not from her, then from himself. Surprisingly, they both handle it well. Emma stumbles off without saying goodbye when she spots a slide on the playground and although Dean gets a little misty-eyed, he keeps it together.

Then he turns to Cas, who is noticeably distressed.

Dean nudges him. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yes, I’m-” Cas clears his throat and Dean pretends not to notice when he wipes away a tear. “I’m fine.”

“It’s only a few hours. I’m sure you can handle it.”

Cas shoots him a glare. “I’m going to wait in the car.”

He walks off and Dean feels a little bad for teasing but not enough to actually go and apologize.

Emma’s new teacher walks up to him. “This is nothing unusual,” she says, gesturing at Cas’ retreating back. “But Emma is adjusting remarkably well.”

“Yeah, she’s a champ,” Dean says, chest swelling with pride. He can still see Emma from here, toddling her way up the short steps to the slide.

“Will you or your partner be picking her up? Or both of you?”

Emma slides down, stumbling as she lands but managing to stay on her feet. She shrieks in delight, running back around to the steps to go again.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, husband.”

Dean turns to the teacher, attention caught by that word. “What?”

“Which one of you will be picking up Emma?” she asks again. “You or your husband?”

Dean stares at her blankly for a moment. “Me,” he finally answers. “My - uh, my husband is working late.”

Later, once he’s taken care of all the formalities with the teacher and has said goodbye to Emma, Dean heads back to the car and wonders why he didn’t correct her. Why he went along with her mistake.

Why the hell the word ‘husband’ sounded so good when applied to Cas.

On Emma’s second birthday, Dean discovers that strangers aren’t the only ones who have been mistaking him and Cas for a couple.

He’s in his kitchen, putting away all the dirty dishes from Emma’s party. The birthday girl herself is taking a nap and although most of the guests have gone home, a few still linger in the living room, talking quietly among themselves.

He’s just about done loading the machine and putting the leftovers away when Mom joins him.

“Bobby and I are about to head home,” she tells him. “Just wanted to say goodbye.”

Dean closes the fridge and walks over to hug her. She’s smiling at him when they part, eyes shining. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says. She clears her throat, pats Dean’s chest. “I’m just… really happy for you, sweetie.”

“Mom,” Dean says, putting his hand over hers. “Have you been drinking?”

Mom snorts, swatting him. “I mean it, kid. I was so worried about you when you got the call about Emma but you’ve handled the situation better than I could have hoped for.”

Dean shrugs, uncomfortable at the deluge of sincere praise. This is the kind of emotional honesty members of the Winchester family don’t usually engage in unless somebody’s on their deathbed.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Mom continues. “And you’re both lucky to have Castiel. I’m glad you’ve all found each other.”

Dean’s stomach sinks. He searches Mom’s expression for any hint of a joke but she looks completely serious.

“Mom… I don’t have Cas. We’re not together.”

“…You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Mom blinks. “But you’re…” She huffs. “I don’t understand.”

“Sorry?” Dean scratches the back of his neck. “I dunno what to tell you, we’re just friends.”

Neither one of them speaks, the silence between them growing awkward.

“I’m… gonna go,” Mom finally says. “Just forget I said anything about Castiel.”

“Okay,” Dean says, knowing full well he’s not gonna be able to.

Strangers thinking he and Cas are involved is one thing. But Mom? Maybe it’s time for Dean to reevaluate the way they come off to people. The last thing he needs is for Emma to get confused about the situation.

Dean considers bringing it up with Cas but it’s just too awkward and in the end, very little reevaluating is done. Dean likes that they’re close, even if they’re never as close as he actually wants. He doesn’t wanna lose any part of what he and Cas have, doesn’t want anything to change between them.

So he says nothing, and things stay the same.

The conversation with Mom is all but forgotten a few months later. Dean is working late, so Cas offers to picks Emma up from pre-school. They’re both kneeling around the coffee table in the living room when Dean comes home, drawing with crayons on the blank pages of Emma’s coloring book.

Dean feels ten different kinds of warm and fuzzy at the sight of them and he can’t help but smile. Cas looks up, finally noticing him, and answers with a gummy smile of his own.

“You staying for dinner?” Dean asks, ignoring the way his heart just skipped a beat.

“Mhm,” Emma hums without looking up from the coloring book.

“I suppose I am,” Cas agrees.

He stays for dinner and then he stays after, helping Dean get Emma to bed. Even once she’s asleep, he stays and does the dishes while Dean throws a load in the laundry.

Neither one of them says anything, but by the time they’re done with the chores and collapse on the couch in front of the TV it’s clear that he’s not going home to sleep. It’s not the first time he’s staying the night, or even the fiftieth - it’s become something of a habit since Dean got Emma. The guest room is basically Cas’ room by now.

They channel surf until Cas makes Dean stop on some competitive reality show about blowing glass. Dean becomes invested despite himself but even then, he’s exhausted and the couch is very soft and inviting.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but when he wakes up, his head is laying on Cas’ shoulder and Cas is slumped against him, snoring softly. It’s dark outside and the only source of light is from the television, now showing a late night talk show with the volume off.

Dean sits up, jostling Cas awake. For a moment, they just look at each other, both smiling sleepily. Then Dean, forgetting for a moment everything they are and everything they aren’t, leans in and kisses him.

It’s not a first kiss. It isn’t tentative, or curious, or impatient and passionate. It’s a routine kiss, the kind you give a partner you’ve been with for a while, brief but assured and loving.

He pulls away and it’s not until he sees Cas’ face that his brain finally catches up with him.

“Shit,” he mutters, recoiling. “Cas, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

He moves to get up, but Cas grabs his hand, holding him still. He doesn’t look shocked or disturbed. Dean can’t read his expression at all, can’t tell what that searching look in his eyes means.

“Don’t apologize,” he finally says. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for ten years.”

Dean’s jaw goes slack. “Wh- ten years?”

“Yes,” Cas says, matter-of-factly. Then, “I’m going to kiss you again, if you don’t mind.”

Dean doesn’t mind. He very, very much doesn’t mind, especially with the way Cas’ hand cups the back of his neck, thumb rubbing the sensitive skin behind his ear before he leans in, kissing Dean with gentle pressure and precision. Or the way he licks the seams of his lips until he opens them, turning the kiss a little filthy and sending bolts of heat dancing down to Dean’s gut.

They part, and something occurs to Dean.

“Wait, is that why Daphne hated me?”

Cas laughs. He’s so close, Dean can feel the way it rumbles in his chest warm and low. “No, actually. She thought you drank too much.”

Then he’s kissing Dean again, and the conversation is officially over.

It isn’t until he’s in a relationship with Cas that Dean realizes he was basically in a relationship with Cas already.

Seems he was the one misunderstanding things all along.

#arsenic-and-coffee #avyssoseleison #perlukafarinn writes #spn fanfic #destiel #deancas #prompt fill #tropes!#dad!dean #au fic #mistaken for a couple #pining!dean #fluff #domestic #kid fic #first kiss #fave

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luuxxart · 4 years

Note

GIVE US THE NEW WARRIORS HEADCANONS UR REDESIGNS ARE AMAZINGJAKMAKWJDKSL💖💖💖

aaaa omG thank you!! :’D I’m actually strangely attached to these characters so I’ll try to do my best to explain the design choices I made and everything

ok so here we go.

SCREENTIME

* first off

* Not an entirely bad name??

* I would prefer Worm tho as a reference to the Morris Worm

* And I did make his design a little more wormy. Kinda Doc Ock-ish.

* So his tragic backstory... Well. Long long ago... when he was just a little kid... his dad fucked his mom.

* Jkjkjkjk. But it would be better than fucking “internet gas.”

* To take this in a darker route, I think it would be cool if his grandad had been experimenting with creating cyborgs and turned his dad into one. And then turned Screentime into one. So Screentime escaped sort of half-finished and is just trying to help others who might mirror his situation of abuse.

* I like to think his first superhero story was he was just like fucking buying bulk ramen and then hears a dude harassing a girl in the next aisle over and is like. huh. word. guess I can intimidate this guy by threatening to take his fucking social security and make it public knowledge.

* Bc he can hook up to the internet and updates his database frequently so he can just Mr. Robot people.

* He’s probably like 18 or 19. Never was schooled and college is kinda pointless when you have the whole internet in your brain.

* So he’s just living in a rundown apartment. Payin bills by doing odd jobs and doin bitcoin stocks.

* On the battlefield, he’d definitely be a mind games kind of guy, but he’d also use his worm limbs for dexterity and could probably discharge bursts of electricity at the cost of losing some information in his database.

* Also it’s probably really hard to tell, but Screentime is my favorite out of the original designs.

TRAILBLAZER

* again! Not a bad name at all!

* Made me think of fire though... and hiking... so

* We really don’t have much information on these characters so they were kinda fun to play around w and I think she was my favorite in terms of concepts.

* Also what the fuck are those red things on her head am I just fucking dumb???

* They look like devil horns. So I’m gonna run with it.

* Ok so she got a backpack from a god.

* Well that god was a god of Hell and also her godfather. Her actual father was another god of Hell. And idk how gods really work in the Marvel universe?? But I think there’s probably at least some high-ranking demons of Hell. I think Hell exists??? If I remember Doctor Strange correctly? (Maybe not Doctor Strange... bro everything is so hard to keep up with)

* Anyway, her dad was killed by some hero traveling through Hell at some point probably. And so she’s been preparing since to go avenge him.

* Then she gets to earth and is kinda like... well, avenging can wait.

* And the reason she can’t just get anything she wants out of the backpacks is because the backpacks are alive. But over time as she gains their trust, they start to become more and more useful. So, like magikarp to gyarados.

* her outfit was so fucking hard to redesign. like,,, I still don’t like it. The backpacks and stuff yes. Everything else no. But it’s better than the Neon Nightmare.

* Her powerset shouldn’t be limited to just her backpacks though. I saw a lot of people complain about that. Bc anyone could steal them from her and use them?

* So I think she should have superhuman strength. Also, her backpacks should only respond to her command. It’d be cute if they were also kinda cheeky about it. Bc yeah she’s a spoiled little brat. But she’s their spoiled little brat so they’re not opening up for anybody but her.

* She’s defo the youngest of the group

* Even if she is an immortal demon kid lol

bro I can’t even say it

I’m renaming them Shuriken. Effective immediately.

SHURIKEN

* So Shuriken is non-binary. Which I think is really cool! They’re not the first non-binary character that Marvel has,, bc Loki exists,, but while they’re not a good step forward... they’re a step forward nonetheless and I kinda commend them for at least trying.

* But goddamnit why did they have to go and name them S

* Sn

* please don’t make me say it

* So Shuriken has ice powers that are sort of threatening to take them over. Like if Iceman couldn’t control his powers ig. Their powers sort of came to them mysteriously in the middle of them already having a gender crisis and high school is happening and all that blah and now they’re just like,,, so ,, “superheroing seems to be a good venture right now. Maybe I’ll find myself in heroics and forget about everything else”

* And most of the heroic ideal is on their brother, ,,,, uh,,,, Quarterback,,, who idolizes the “classic” heroes like Cap, Iron Man, and Thor.

* Shuriken prefers reading news stories about Night Slasher and Punisher, Jessica Jones, and just generally, the other edgier heroes.

* But because their brother idolizes heroics so much, it makes it sort of a surprise when Shuriken takes up their mantle before Quarterback realizes anything is going on.

* And how does the ice stuff affect them? They’re sort of on the fence about finding a cure and whatnot. Most people speculate its like later-in-life mutation, but Shuriken isn’t satisfied with this answer.

*they sometimes chop off the spiky ice parts for convenience(they have no feeling in the frozen over parts of their body)

*(I’m toying with the idea of them having a crush on Ms. Marvel ngl)

QUARTERBACK

* not much to say about him? Other than goddamn that neon was terrible.

* Also I’ve seen jocks wear pink, so some youtube dudes complaining about that can fuck off. Maybe not that bright of a shade?

* But I figure with a defensive character, you would definitely want a bulkier frame. At least Power Man levels of a bulky frame? Like I’m not talking Hulk or Thing. Just.. yknow. At least a good Cap size dude.

* Also a blockier costume would make sense. Since he’s supposed to be. Uh. Safe. For people to like,, crowd behind. Like a safe

* Like a safe sp

* Like a

* safespace.

* I also like to think he was sort of a stereotypical jock and then here comes his little sibling (by like,, 7 minutes) who’s finally just like “yo fuck the gender spectrum” and so he finally opens up to his own interests that he’s been burying

* Like the color coral

* Which is definitely not pink my dudiest of dudes ;)

* He’s definitely more

* CHILL

* than Shuriken about the whole ice taking over his body thing. Like, at the end of the day, he’s still a jock even if he did turn out to be a mutant. Like , the world didn’t just end because he’s got some cool ice powers

* Also only being able to create a shield if it’s for others?? What a fucking joke man come on

* He can create platforms of ice and just mainly uses the ice as shields.

B-NEGATIVE

* OK THIS IS MY SON

* not the original he kinda just looked like he took one look at Welcome to the Black Parade and said “I can do that outfit. But crappier.”

* Listen,,,, I constructed a son

* It’s like that thing from that movie

* I was like

* “We can rebuild him...”

* is that fucking robocop

* At any rate, yeah yeah, Morbius stuff is still withstanding

* What if

* And hear me out

* His parents were sort of antivax sort of anti-mutant sort of folk. They get into some sort of car accident when he’s kinda young. He gets a blood transfusion against his parent’s wishes and in the end also gets adopted by this weirdass doctor who probably has some nefarious purpose, considering he used Morbius’ blood in the first place.

* This would explain how he could survive having vampirism since a doctor would probably have easier access to donated blood and stuff.

* Should the blood be going to people who actually need a transfusion? yes, however, this doctor is clearly ,, off his fucking rocker and corrupt as hell,, and what is his purpose?? The world may never know

* I don’t think B-Negative cares about anything. Like he just seems like that kind of character? Totally and inherently aloof and selfish because he’s just been fed blood on a silver spoon his whole life?

* Just does not care

* He does care about music though. Specifically rock(alternative, punk, hard, etc) and the history of it.

* me personally I really like Pink Floyd and I’m not going to,, shove my beliefs onto a character but

* I’m going to shove my beliefs onto a character and say his favorite song of all time is probably Welcome to the Machine

* And he probably will not shut up about how righteous of a song it is and how pertinent the message is

* Bc I think it fits,,, a lot of things about the stuff I’ve wrote with the backstories of these characters

* and yes

* he can perfectly mimic Great Gig in the Sky. the man!! has pipes!!!

* I also think it would be cool if he’s the oldest of them? Like, younger than 21 but he’s out of high school. Just trying to get a bachelors in music history at fuckin uh. NYU probably.

* he unironically likes twilight

#marvel #new warriors #ask #ik it looks weird haha i wrote this all in my notes and just copy pasted

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princeazurathepathetic · 4 years

Text

Okay so, Imma put some warnings about this: There is swearing, quite a bit in fact

This is about Gender Dysphoria

Very very minor Verdant Wind spoilers

Also about a young man that is trans but hasn't came out yet

Mentioned parental abuse because Count Gloucester is terrible

No Lorenz hating allowed!

Trans Lorenz

Angst

Not the happiest ending, but it's not sad either

Ty for reading, if u like it plz tell me! I also take constructive criticism. It's kinda long.

Maybe They Need Her

It was happening again. Why did this always happen? It was completely unbefitting of his station, and yet very often, Lorenz felt this way. Awkward, confused, unhappy, slightly nauseous, and anxious. He wished he wouldn't, it made social interaction so much harder, and that's almost always when it happened.

He had been out with the rest of the Golden Deer. Raphael had suggested that they all went out to celebrate their recent victory at a local restaurant, that also happened to have a bar, pre Leonie's request. Leonie, Hilda, and the professor had jumped on the idea, Claude had seen nothing wrong with the idea, and Lysithea had immediately wanted to as soon as she'd heard that there was going to be desert. Marianne, had been wanting to push herself and participate in more social interaction, so she also thought it sounded like a good idea. And Ignatz wanted to go since Raphael was hosting it, and he would take any excuse to be around Raphael. Lorenz, of course, wanted to go as well, it wouldn't do for a noble of his class and station to be the only one not to go. Also, lately he and Claude, had started to understand each other, and he wanted to truly get to know him better.

The night had been going extremely well, Lysithea had eaten nothing but cake the entire time, Hilda had somehow convinced half the people in the bar to buy her drinks, Raphael had eaten half the restaurant's for supply, Ignatz and Marianne both seemed to actually be enjoying themselves, and Leonie and the professor had arm wrestled a total of thirty six times. Everyone was happy, and then Hilda announced that she had promised Lysithea and Marianne that she'd take them shopping for clothes. Lysithea seemed like she would rather do anything else claiming:

"Oh, um, we don't have to, Hilda. Don't want to ruin the party…" in which she got a

"Nonsense! I promised you!"

The Professor had asked if she and Leonie could come along. Leonie did NOT seem happy about that, but Hilda had agreed before she could say anything.

"Us girls NEED to go shopping! It's the funnest thing EVER! Come on, dont’cha want some girl time?"

"No! And I call bullshit! We could train, or spar, or literally do ANYTHING else. What's so fun about shopping and dressing up!?"

"Come now Leonie, we'll spar after okay? That way we can do something everybody likes."

"But Professor! I don't want to spar! That’s too much work!"

"Hilda, it's called a compromise."

Lorenz half listened to them as they argued their way toward the door. He wished he could go with them, but he didn't know why. What was so fun about shopping?

Still he asked, "Are we going to go with them?"and he immediately regretted doing so.

"And what? Buy dresses and talk about makeup? Nah. That's all girly stuff."

"Yeah, so who wants to do something actually fun? How about a drinking contest?"

There it was. The feeling. He didn't know why it always came on at times such as these, but it did. The anxiety, confusion, and awkwardness, was unbearable at times, and he knew deep down what caused it but he’d never admit it. He didn't really feel like being out socialising, but he knew he wasn't going to stop, he was a noble afterall, and therefore, must set the noble standard.

"Hey, you okay Lorenz?"

Claude was giving him that warm smile he knew so well, but his eyes were boring into Lorenz's soul. He hated it when Claude looked at him like that. It just made him even more uncomfortable.

"I'm perfectly fine, why do you ask, Claude?"

"Because you look like you're about to puke."

By the Goddess he hated how casual Claude's way of speech was, it irritated him to no end, but he'd learned to accept that Claude was never going to change.

"Please, Claude, you think I'd get sick so easily? I’m a Gloucester, we don’t just drop dead idly.”

“Uh huh, it’s called concern Lorenz, you don’t look so good, so I asked if you were okay. And it doesn’t look like you are, you’re being even more snappy than usual. You’re sweating profusely, and you look highly uncomfortable.”

Oh. since when did Claude start paying such close attention to him? He wished that he didn’t, Lorenz didn’t like it when people worried unnecessarily over him. Or, really he didn’t like it when people worried about him at all, it was weird and uncomfortable to say the least. He opened his mouth to protest what Claude had said, but felt himself unable to, due to the look Claude was giving him, he really was boring into Lorenz’s soul.

“I- uh…”

“You know what guys? I’m gonna take Lorenz back to the monastery. He seems to be feeling unwell.”

“What? But I have already told you, I am perfectly well.”

But it didn’t really matter what Lorenz said as Claude steered him out of the restaurant, back toward the monastery. Although Lorenz protested the whole way back, inside he was profusely thanking the goddess for getting him out of that drinking contest. As soon as they got back into Lorenz’s dormitory, Claude shut the door, giving Lorenz his serious look. It always felt odd for Lorenz, when Claude dropped the carefree, charismatic, happy, facade, since he seldom did so.

“So, are you going to explain to me what’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t know what… Ahem. What you’re talking about.”

Why was he losing his composure? The feeling still hadn’t gone away, and recently he’d been finding it hard to lie so much around Claude.

“Come on, we both know that something’s up, and I want to know what it is. I can’t have you getting sick, we’re marching on to the Empire soon ``

''I’m not sick!”

“Then what’s up?”

“Listen, sometimes I just start feeling a bit... Uncomfortable -for no particular reason!- when speaking with others, but it’s not a big deal, and certainly not something a noble such as myself can’t handle.”

“Sooo… Is it social anxiety?”

“No. I simply feel awkward and unhappy when people speak of-”

Lorenz cut himself off, he did not want to talk about this, especially not with Claude, even though they’d been working to better know each other, he still was a Riegan, and if word of this got to his servants or advisers, they’d use it against the entire Gloucester clan, and then his father would find out, which would be the absolute worst thing that could happen to Lorenz. “When people speak of... what?”

“Nothing, I misspoke.”

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“Possibly.”

“Sarcasm? Really?”

“Who said it was sarcasm?”

There was a snort of laughter from Claude’s side of the room, maybe he’d distracted Claude just enough to get out of this conversation.

“Okay, but back to the topic at hand. You know that I’m not gonna stop bugging you until you tell me.”

“Well that’s awfully mature.”

“So… Spill it.”

“Very well, but you must swear that you will not mock me. Or tell anyone.”

“Geez Lorenz, didn’t realise it was such a terrible secret. Heh.”

“Swear Riegan!”

“Fine. I swear, Gloucester.”

“I get very anxious and uncomfortable when others around my person speak of gender.”

He spoke rather frankly in desperate hopes that it wouldn’t seem like a big deal and hopefully that Claude wouldn’t ask the questions he was dreading. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side that day.

“Why?”

“How should I know!? I am simply speaking the truth to your inquiries you so desperately need answered, apparently.”

Claude chose to ignore these remarks, much to Lorenz’s further irritation.

“So, lemme get this straight. You get highly uncomfortable, anxious and awkward whenever people talk about gender related topics and stuff?”

“Yes. Gender related topics, and stuff.”

“And you don’t know why.”

Claude gave Lorenz the look of ‘you better be telling the truth.’ Lorenz was fully prepared to lie. Hell, most of him wanted to lie, but there was this small part of him, the selfish part of him, who just wanted someone else to know, anyone else to know. Well except his family of course, the last thing he wanted was for them to know. And here was his opportunity, a chance handed to him on a silver plate. Maybe this was meant to happen.. Maybe this was the Goddess herself, taking pity on his sorry self, and giving him an opportunity to talk to someone. Well, if that was the case, who was he to decline a blessing from the Goddess. He answered.

“Well…”

“Come on Lorenz, tell me the truth. We’re friends now, right? I’m not gonna rat out any of your dark secrets.”

“Dark Secrets? What do you take me for? I have no ‘dark secrets’. The very notion!”

“Well, then what?”

“I just…- here it came, he was really going to say it- I don’t want… I don’t want.. To be a man.”

He’d said the last part so quietly, he’d be surprised if Claude could have possibly heard. He hadn’t.

“Sorry? Gonna have to repeat that.”

“I don’t want to be a man!” It came out incredibly loud this time but he didn’t even care, this was something that he’d been keeping to himself since he was fourteen, and wasn’t going to come out very noble.

“I never have! That is to say, I didn’t truly give it much thought in my childhood years, but since i was fourteen years of age, I have felt uncomfortable in the identity that I had, and confused about my gender, andabout how and why others viewed me, I haven’t wanted to be seen as a man, or as anything similar since that young age, I have wanted to be… Have wanted to be a woman! That’s what I wish I was! And it makes me so confused, and anxious, and unhappy, when others start talking about male stereotypes, and gender conformity, and, and, and really about anything relating to gender. Hell, I get uncomfortable when others refer to me as ‘he’ or ‘him’. And I- I-”

Why was it so hard to breath, and the easiest it had ever been, at the same time? Why was he saying this? Why was he saying it to Calude? Why was he yelling like some drunken commoner off the streets? Why did he even feel this way? Why couldn’t he just be normal? Without starting drama? And being a disgrace to his family name? He was a noble for the goddess’s sake! He should be the picture of perfection and grace, and model for his people! Not some fucked up failure that his Father was always disappointed in! Why was he so- so-

“Lorenz, calm down. You need to breathe, ok? Everything’s okay, calm down.”

He could feel Claude;s hand on his shoulder, as he tried to calm Loenz down, he tried to look at Claude, but his vision was blurry. Tears? Why the hell was he crying!? He’s got nothing to cry about! He is lucky and privileged to be of a noble house! To be the heir to so much money and power! To be living in a time with so many changed ideals. To have crest. Unlike so many noble children who are disowned at birth, because of not having one. He is lucky. He is spoiled. So why the fuck was he breaking down so easily? If his father could see him now, he’d be screaming at him to stop embarrassing his image! Why was he like this?

“Lorenz! Listen to me! You’re okay! I’m here, you can talk to me.”

“Apologies, I-I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Lorenz, this is a lot of bottled emotion, that’s been saved up for years. Let it out.”

“I- he tried to talk. But he was heaving trying to control his emotion and breathing.

“Lorenz, If this is truly so important to you… Why don’t you change your gender? This is Fódlan. It’s gotten pretty progressive, and you know nobody here at the monastery would be a dick about it, we’re all like family here, and we’ll always support each other.”

“I thank you for the sentiment, but it’s not the Golden Deer that i worry over. I’m a noble, and as such I must meet the noble standard. If I came out as ‘transgender’ it would be the biggest scandal House Goucester has ever faced. It would ruin my family.”

“I disagree, it would be a step forward. Not backward. As you remind us yourself constantly. Us nobility have to set an example for our people, we must show them what is right. Blah blah blah. If nobody in the nobility ever adopts modern ideals, then what does that teach our people about what is wrong and what is right?”

“I understand where you are coming from, ignoring your ‘blah blah blah’s’. But I don’t ever think my family would allow such ridicule. I’d probably be disowned for just thinking about changing my gender. And that would leave House Gloucester without an heir, and that would be a total disaster.”

“Hey. Who’s literally in charge of The Alliance in the first place? Me. And I have absolutely taken our country’s ideals and flipped them on their head. You think I give a shit if some stuffy nobility care that I want to unite Fódlan and the rest of the world? No. I don’t. And I wouldn’t get anywhere if I did, because The Alliance nobles are quite averse to change.”

“Well, you do realise, that it is actually important for a ruler to listen to others on his council. Secondly, these are not people who I can stand to let down, this is my father and family, I refuse to be the weak link in my noble bloodline.”

“If your father would disown you for accepting modern ideals, are you sure you’re really the ‘weak link’?”

“What!? What are you even suggesting? My father is a respectable and decent man, who although at times can be a bit of a dick, is overall a proper and honorable noble!”

“Sorry, sorry. I meant no offense, and I can tell you need some time alone, but just, think about it okay? You know that me, and the rest of the Golden Deer-

“The rest of the Golden Deer and I-

“Me and the rest of the Golden Deer, are here for you and we’ll support whatever you choose to be and do. Within reason of course.”

“Thank you Claude, I promise you that I will think about it. And I must also thank you for listening to me, through my.. Er, ungraceful freakout…”

“Hey, No problem. It happens to all of us. And, hey, come find me if you ever want to talk about anything, alright?”

“Very well, I suppose I could take you up on your offer. Good night Claude. Goddess bless.”

It was quiet, alone in his dormitory, looking out the window. There was hardly a sound, the whole monastery was silent. But Lorenz could not notice, for the thousand voices in his head, debating whether what Claude said was true… Was it? Lorenz thought, and thought, maybe the noble standard had changed. Maybe his father was wrong about tramsgender and other queer folk. Maybe he did deserve to be who he wanted. Maybe, just maybe, the world needed him as he wanted to be. No not him, maybe they needed her.

Maybe…

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haledamage · 4 years

Text

Character Interview: Liv Ramsey

I wasn’t tagged by anyone this time and I’m not tagging anyone, I just wanted to do the character interview with Olivia :D if you also have a character you want to interview and haven’t been tagged for it, consider this an invitation!

name ➔ Olivia Ramsey. Friends call me Liv. I guess you can, too, if ya want.

are you single ➔ Startin' with the tough questions, huh? (she pauses for a very long moment, toying absentmindedly with what looks like a very expensive sapphire necklace she wears before finally turning a bright smile your way) It's complicated, like really complicated, but… no. I'm not. But if you could keep that between us, I'd appreciate it.

are you happy ➔ most of the time, yeah. Got a good group of close friends, enough money to eat every day, and a job that keeps me on my toes. What more could I ask for?

are you angry ➔ sometimes. Never sticks for long. (she grins, unrepentant and joyful) I’ve got a great anger management secret.

are your parents still married ➔ I don’t know if they ever were. Never met ‘em. Don't even know their names. They died when I was a baby, or they couldn’t keep me, or they didn’t want me, or… whatever. (she shrugs stiffly)

NINE FACTS

birth place ➔ I dunno. New York, I assume, since that’s where I grew up. Lived in Manhattan ‘til I moved out here to Chicago. I miss it, sometimes. The pizza here’s awful.

hair colour ➔ Red, right now. Or did you mean my natural color? ‘Cause that’s my little secret.

eye colour ➔ blue. Ice blue, if you wanna be dramatic about it.

birthday ➔ August 2nd.

mood ➔ pretty chill, right now.

color scheme ➔ I really like shades of red and pink. Black, because it goes with everything, yellow because it really doesn’t.

gender ➔ I mean, gender is a social construct, but I’m female for the most part. Some days more than others.

summer or winter ➔ summer. New York winters are a bitch, and I hear Chicago’s even worse. Good thing I’m not the one that has to drive in it.

morning or afternoon ➔ morning. Best time of day to get shit done is early in the morning or really late at night.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ yep. I was never any good at keepin' it a secret. At least, from most people. I had to beat him over the head with it before he believed me. (she laughs to herself, a clearly besotted smile on her face) He had me at hello, though, he really did.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ If you'd asked me that a few months ago, I'd have said no, but now… yeah. Yeah, I think I do.

who ended your last relationship ➔ I think it was a mutual thing. She was lookin' for one thing and I was lookin' for something else. Sometimes people just aren't meant to fit together. Better to split up than try to force it.

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ Sure. (she shrugs one shoulder, completely unbothered by the idea) On both an amateur and a professional level. I'm a con artist, sweetheart. Or I used to be. It comes with the territory.

are you afraid of commitments ➔ nope. I actually have the opposite problem. I sometimes overcommit and throw myself into causes or relationships - platonic or romantic - that aren't worthy of my time or my loyalty. I just… don't like to do things by halves, y'know?

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ yep. Gabriel, definitely. Mouse, probably. Maybe Rook, and I think Anna as well. I like hugs.

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ I mean, if it's a secret that means I don't know about it. (she winks) But yeah, I get admirers sometimes. I try to let them down easy. I know it sounds a bit hypocritical with the career I'm in, but I don't like hurting people if I don’t have to.

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ nah. I don't carry the right ammunition for that. Easy to avoid a broken heart if you don't get your hopes up.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ lust, if I have to choose, but they're best when they're together

lemonade or iced tea ➔ iced tea. Or both! They’re also best when they’re together.

cats or dogs ➔ cats. I have a sweet little kitten named Ruby, she's just the best.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ I don't know if I know how to have regular friends anymore. Seems like people only come in two flavors, these days: "acquaintance" and "family." It's an embarrassment of riches, after it bein' just me and Mouse for so long. Now I'm surrounded by people who care about me. It's… well, it's fuckin' weird, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ wild night out. Somewhere that the music's so loud you can feel it in your bones. Or maybe getting into a little trouble with my crew.

day or night ➔ night. The real fun doesn't start until after sunset.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ sure. Didn't stop me, though.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ nope. Almost fell off the side of an 80 story building once. Well, technically it was 100 stories, but I was on the 80th floor. Maybe I shoulda taken the stairs.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ yes (a flash of pain streaks across her face and she stares into the middle distance. it's clear she has no intention of elaborating)

wanted to disappear ➔ sometimes. I'm pretty good at it, if I need to.

been involved in a fight you thought you couldn’t win ➔ there's no such thing as a fight you can't win. Gabriel taught me that. I have literally watched him die and be resuscitated and then get up and keep fighting. It was the most terrifying minute of my life and I never want to see him like that again, but the statement still stands.

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ eyes. Considering… well, considering Gabriel and the fact that more often than not, his eyes are the only part of his face that I can see, I've become very fond of them and of just how expressive they can be.

shorter or taller ➔ I'm gonna say shorter. I don't really have a preference one way or the other, but I think a lotta folks say taller and I like being contrary. Also 'cause I wanna have Mouse's back.

intelligence or attraction ➔ I feel like I should say attraction, since I used to make my living off of exploiting it. (she laughs) I do love to surround myself with smart people, though.

hook-up or relationship ➔ relationship. I've tried to do the casual hook-up thing, but I'm not any good at it. I get attached too easy.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ if you mean, like, blood family, I don’t… have any. At all. If you mean my chosen family, yeah, we get along swell.

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ I'm a high-ranking member of an angel-themed crime syndicate that's currently at war with the Chicago Mafia and the FBI. What d'you think, sweetheart?

have you ever ran away from home ➔ “Home” is an interesting word, isn’t it? (she smirks like she plans to leave it there, but eventually sighs) Yeah, I’ve run away. From foster homes, from the orphanage. Always got dragged back, until the last time. Maybe they couldn’t find me. Maybe they stopped looking.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ (she laughs) Sure, all the time. Usually after the second time the cops brought me home. No one wants to keep a troublemaker around.

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ no. I mean, if you hate them, then they aren’t your friend, are they? And when I hate someone, I don’t tend to keep it a secret.

do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ yep. I would take a bullet for any of them and I know they’d do the same for me.

who is your best friend ➔ Mouse. Edwyn and I have known each other since high school. He’s always had my back and I’ve always had his. Always will. Though… at this point I guess I gotta mention Rook and Bishop too. Haven’t known ‘em long, but we… fit, y’know? It’s kinda funny, really, since they were tryin’ to kill me the first time we met. Some days, I’m not convinced they still aren’t, just in a really convoluted way.

who knows everything about you ➔ Gabriel. He proved that the very first time we met. He knows more than I do about me, I’m sure of it. He kinda meant it as a threat at the time, but these days it’s comforting. I guess Mouse knows more about me on a personal level, though, at least for now. Gabriel’s got ways of finding things out, but Mouse was there for most of it. So like, Gabriel knows more of the broad strokes, but Edwyn knows more of the little details, I guess? Does that sound stupid?

#olivia ramsey #character interview #I love her a lot y'all #she's so much more fun and more chill than any of the others #kiki and kira are both very public image-oriented so they're pretty reserved #and caitie is mostly just angry and restless #liv is just here for a good time #she's sweet and friendly and fun but also ruthless and relentless and brutally violent when she needs to be

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mindstreason · 5 years

Text

Nikolai ran his nails up and down the ridges on Rair’s spine, slow and lazy.

“So,” Rair said, looking up thoughtfully from the text. “I don’t really understand. Is gender not a description of biological function?”

“What the fuck are you reading?” Nikolai asked, trying to look.

“I am trying to understand humans,” Rair said. “The term. The dictionary translates it to-“ He said the khaytni word, accompanying it with a little tail twitch. “But to us this is. How to say. Female-or-not?” he tried. “From what I am reading, this is not correct?”

“Why are you thinking about this?” Nikolai asked.

“I want to know.”

Nikolai had no idea why Rair wanted to bother when so much of Rair’s interaction with humans was murder. “That would be more like the idea of biological sex. That’s the idea males will have one set of genitals, and females will have another.”

“What?”

“What?” Nikolai said, not sure what didn’t make sense here.

“Humans have two types of genitals?”

“Er,” Nikolai said. “Kind of?”

Rair was silent for a little bit, looking this up. Nikolai saw pictures of vaginas and penises. He kept scratching Rair’s back. Had Rair never looked at porn?

“So,” Nikolai said. “What do you think makes you male?”

“I cannot get pregnant,” Rair said. This was simple and obvious. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have the same parts.”

“Right, but sections of them don’t function because of your hormone levels?” Nikolai knew that much about khaytni anatomy.

“Yes,” Rair said. “But it isn’t… A chromosome that decides that.” He flared a wing out near Nikolai’s hand – a clear invitation to scratch that, so Nikolai ran his nails over it.

“What decides what you are, then?” Nikolai decided.

“Local conditions,” Rair said, as if this was utterly obvious too. Nikolai was asking stupid questions.

“Huh,” Nikolai said. He stopped scratching Rair to look this up. He had paid less attention than he had thought. “Hang on, so you are just male because your clan had the right number of individuals able to give birth at the time?”

Rair shrugged in that way that meant yes.

“So your daughter is a daughter and not a son because…?”

“Demographics. But. She is not sexually mature yet. We can’t really be certain. It’s just a guess, really.”

Nikolai read a little more of the article. That kind of made sense. “What if you wanted to be female?”

Rair shrugged again, though this time to imply there was no particular problem. “There are ways to encourage the change. But I couldn’t maintain it even if I wanted to. I spend too much time alone. So for humans it is a chromosome?”

“Gender is not a biological category, Rair,” Nikolai said. “It is a social construct.”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Rair said. “Why would your biological category determine who you are?”

“Your people do treat females differently,” Nikolai said, puzzled.

“No?” Rair said, nudging Nikolai with a wing.

Nikolai thought about how to phrase his question. ‘Female’ seemed too clinical now. ‘Woman’ seemed inappropriate because Nikolai was suspecting Rair did not understand the idea. “Pregnant persons. Are treated differently.”

“Being pregnant is hard on the body,” Rair said. So obviously some different treatment was required.

“And they are expected to do things after giving birth,” Nikolai said, belatedly remembering to scratch Rair’s wing again.

“Expected to go enjoy themselves, when they recover, yes,” Rair said. As people should. Obviously. “But we do not tell people how they are meant to behave and what work they can do because they are able to get pregnant. And what is non-binary? How can that even work? Surely you are able to do a thing, or not do a thing.”

“Rair, I have no idea how to explain this to you,” Nikolai said. “Get an introduction to gender studies.”

“This is one of those things where our words don’t match, isn’t it?” Rair said.

“Probably,” Nikolai said, though he suspected it was one of those things where khaytni philosophy was wildly different from the human one. “But maybe it is more like that time you tried to explain to me the… How did you call it. Maintaining the relationship to the group.” The best Nikolai had got out of that one was that you were meant to be nice – and sometimes even have sex with – the members of the clan you didn’t like. It sounded very simple, but Rair had kept telling him he was getting it wrong, and Nikolai had distinctly got the sense he was missing some vital part.

Rair made his thinking chirp. Not just a vocabulary mismatch. A concept mismatch.

#my writing #i tried

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friendlyneighborhoodborg · 5 years

Text

Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 1: Writing| “The First Session”

So this is literally the first fanfiction I’ve ever published, done for @wearemiraculous / @seasonofthegeek ‘s Miraculous Ladybug event, celebrating everyone’s adopted son, Marc Anciel. I planned this overarching story back when it was first announced, so before the actual prompts were given, so I don’t know if the days will actually match up very well. Disclaimers (PLEASE READ) and chapter are under the cut.

(~c. 1500 words, for those of you who care about that kind of thing.)

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Disclaimers before the actual content: I am not affiliated with anyone involved with creating Miraculous Ladybug. I’m just a fan, this is just fanfiction. This is a seven-part fic, one chapter for each day (if I can finish them on time), and it features heavy LGBTQ+ themes and mentions gender dysphoria (Not in this chapter but in later chapters). I am not dysphoric, nor have I ever been, and I identify as a straight male. As such, I may get something wrong. Please, tell me if I do get something wrong so I can fix it. The last thing I want is to hurt anyone with this.

Also, mild language warning.

Okay, I think that’s everything.

Sunday… by the blue, purple, yellow, red water… on the green, purple, yellow, red grass…

Well, no, actually. He was in a public library, not a park, and the closest thing to a river was a drinking fountain a few shelves to his left. Still, it was Sunday, and this was the song that was piping in through Nathaniel’s earbuds.

‘You’ll love it,’ Rose had said. ‘It’s inspired by that painting, the famous one with all the dots.’

‘Un dimanche après-midi à l’Île de la Grande Jatte,’ he had guessed. ‘By Georges Seurat?’

‘Yeah, that one. It’s about all the people in the painting, and all their troubles getting masked by the artist creating one fictional, perfect afternoon. And then Act II is his grandson having to deal with creating the same things over and over. And it’s just…’ There, Rose wiped a few tears from her still-red eyes. ‘It’s some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. The same composer wrote Into the Woods.’

‘And Sweeney Todd,’ Juleka had mumbled from close by.

Well, he couldn’t argue with Rose. There were some incredible melodies, and watching the filmed version (at Rose’s insistence) had brought some tears to his eyes.

It was about art.

It was about himself, too, in a way.

In the play, Georges invests himself so far into the fictional world in his painting that he neglects his lover, his family, and even his own life in the end.

In real life, Nathaniel had gotten so wrapped up in his art that he had started to see everyone else as an obstacle to the creative spirit.

“Hey,” a voice mumbled. “Sorry I’m late.”

Which is how he found himself here, in this mess.

“It’s no problem.” Nathaniel glanced at his phone. “You’re actually early.”

“I know,” Marc said tensely, quietly slipping into a chair across from him. “But I still got here after you, so…”

“Like I said, no problem. I wasn’t bored.”

“Oh?” Marc looked at Nathan’s sketchbook, which was open on the table. “What are you drawing?”

Nathaniel regarded his creation. It wasn’t anything too special: a tree, a river, a bench, all in a park scene done in swooping, curved lines. The shading was done with a bunch of little tick marks instead of the smooth gradient style he sometimes did.

“Just a scene,” he answered. “From this musical I’ve been listening to.”

“Sunday in the Park with George?”

Nathaniel nodded. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Uh, Rose – that’s her name, right? – she told me about it. She said her friend and her dad were in it together.”

“Yeah, Mylène?”

“That was it.”

“Yeah. She’s been forcing everyone in the art club to listen to the soundtrack for weeks.” Nath flipped to a different page in the sketchbook. “You’re the newest member, so naturally you’re her latest victim.”

Marc gave a weak laugh, but his expression stayed sober. “So how is it?”

“Hm?”

“The play. Is it any good?”

“Oh.” He mulled over this. “I like it,” he decided, even if he felt that didn’t answer the question. “It’s a… perspective on the art piece. Definitely unconventional.”

“Yeah.” Marc fingered the hem of his hoodie and bit his lip. “It is a bit weird, isn’t it? Writing something that big inspired by one piece of visual art.”

“Yep. And I’m now drawing something inspired by that. Comes back around, doesn’t it?” Nathaniel cringed, like he always did when he tried to be profound. Profundity didn’t suit his verbal abilities.

To his surprise, Marc nodded in agreement. “The cyclical, cannibalistic nature of art.”

“Cannibalistic,” Nathan repeated, amused. “That’s good. I like that word. It’s very… blunt.”

“It’s a strong choice,” Marc agreed. “Connoting something brutish or barbaric.”

“Works perfectly for art, then.”

Marc smiled this time. “Guess it does,” he said. His voice, to Nathaniel’s perception, seemed to take on some quality, giving it a lighter… texture?

‘No that isn’t right. What’s that called?’ he pondered. Whatever it was, it was a welcome change from Marc’s usual moody demeanor. The small smile on his face was uniquely refreshing, emotionally speaking.

“Kinda like this, huh?” he noted. “I mean, I was doodling, you wrote stuff for it, and now I’m drawing based off what you wrote. I’m cannibalizing myself via you.”

Marc lost his smile. Nathan suddenly felt bad, like all the weight in the air had fallen in around him.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Forget I… I was trying to be clever, never mind.”

The heaviness in the room was making it difficult for him to breathe.

“So…” Marc tried to break the silence. Nathan winced inwardly at the shift in social dynamic. Apparently, he also winced outwardly, because Marc suddenly started to backtrack. “I mean, you, um…” His voice dropped to a timid whisper. “Oh, shit.”

Marc made to get up, grabbing the bag that was hung on his chair. “Wait, no, I’m sorry,” Nath pleaded.

“This isn’t going to work.” The writer shook his head. “I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“Look, it’s my fault.” Marc stopped moving. “I’m sorry, I’m just not used to… working with people.” At the deflated look this received, Nath amended himself. “I want to, though. Let’s just give this a chance, okay?”

“Oh.” Marc set down his bag and withdrew his journal. “Uh… okay.”

“Yeah. I don’t exactly know how to… do…” He stopped talking, not knowing what word he could finish with.

“Collaborations?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure… What’s the, um, protocol here?”

Marc shifted in his seat, playing with the cover of his book. “I don’t really think there is a set protocol.”

“Oh. Sorry, my bad, I just—”

“No, you’re fine, I’m the one who should—”

They both stopped talking over each other. Once again, they merely looked down at their own papers in silence.

After a minute of this, Nathaniel decided, against his better judgement, to address the elephant at the table.

“So… Yesterday, huh?”

Marc continued to hunch over.

“You got akumatized.” Not like the superfan was going to judge. “You really wanted in on this project, huh?”

Marc shut his eyes tight. He whispered, “It wasn’t that.”

Nath was surprised. “Oh? Then…”

“I just wanted to…” For the first time in the meeting, Marc momentarily lost his tongue. “I don’t know how it got to that. I just wanted to say that you were… and then Marinette just made it about us working together…” He shrugged, defeated. “It just sort of escalated.”

“Oh,” Nathaniel nodded. “Then we agree.”

“Huh?”

“Marinette is terrible at mediating people.”

“Oh.” Another smile, much smaller than the first, graced his lips, which his collaborator was grateful for. “Heh. She really is, huh?”

‘Levity,’ Nathan realized, looking at Marc’s smile. ‘That’s the word I was looking for earlier.’

He wanted to keep the conversation going. “So… what were going to say about me? So you can get that out of the way.”

It took a while for him to answer. “It’s just… I really like… your art. There’s just something in it.” He looked away, blushing with what Nathaniel assumed was embarrassment. “You seem to really care about it. Not really in any way I’ve ever seen before. I-It’s so well-constructed, too, plot-wise.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” The scriptwriter rubbed his arm. “I mean… I’m not an expert, but I like stories that… you know.”

The cartoonist didn’t know, but he kept that to himself.

“Why do you, um…” Marc gulped. “What led you to… drawing? And doing stories like this?”

“Why do I do this?” Nath thought about this for a moment. “I can’t really say.”

“Okay.” Marc didn’t push further.

They continued to sit silently, until Nath once again spoke up.

“Do you ever feel like there’s something that’s just…”

His accomplice tried guessing. “Wrong?”

“Exactly.” Nathaniel crossed his arms. “Something that’s just wrong with you.”

“Yeah,” Marc nodded. “I think that’s normal.”

“It really isn’t. Or it shouldn’t be.”

“I’ll agree on that.”

“It’s part of why I do this.” Nath shrugged pensively. “It just feels right.”

Marc smiled. “That’s how I feel about writing.” He tried to clarify. “You know, like, constructing words, into sentences and paragraphs and stories. And then you come up with that great sentence, that play on ideas, and it’s just…” Seeing that his point didn’t really get across, he elaborated. “I am to words as you are to… let’s say, colors.”

“I can tell.” Nath motioned to Marc’s journal. “From what I’ve read, you’re really an artist with them.”

Marc blushed again, though Nath couldn’t tell from what. “You really think so?”

“Yeah. Even just talking to you is… well, kind of exhilarating.” Wondering if that was the right word to use, he backtracked. “Something like that, I guess. Anyway…” He closed his sketchbook. “What do you say we finally start working?”

Marc’s expression shifted to surprise. “W-working?”

“Yeah.” He got out of his seat and walked around to Marc’s side. “Show me what you’ve been writing.”

“O-okay.” He reluctantly opened his journal. “Well, it’s not really, um, much, but there’s this thing you did after Copycat that I sort of expanded on…”

So, yeah, that was Day 1. Sorry if it sucked, I’m really new to this and I’ve never posted anything before. That’s my excuse. Please don’t send hate, but I will take constructive criticism. Therefore, if you do send hate, pretend it’s that instead.

The whole thing is actually not fully finished, but I’ll try to get everything up here eventually regardless of whether or not I can do it all in time.

#miraculous ladybug #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #Marc Appreciation Week #fanfic

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no-longer-an-alley-cat · 5 years

Text

‘“Asexual” Isn’t Who I Am’: The Politics of Asexuality

by Matt Dawson, Susie Scott, and Liz McDonnell

Comedic commentary that might verge on insightful by me.

Join me as I try and fucking deal with this particular hangup I have

Arright, so basically these folks are reacting to other folks who say that asexuality is the fucking cats pajamas and is going to do everything from redefining relationships to destroying neoliberalism.

Basically, they’re saying that this is telling asexual people how they ought to be, and not actually looking at what it is and how asexual people actually are. In fact, they think asexual people are a very diverse bunch and you can’t make general claims about their politicalness. Which is fair.

Anyway, they’re going to look at the politics of asexual people, and they’re doing this in an interesting way where they are committed to studying the world from the participant’s perspective. This is interesting because, generally speaking, it is impossible for a researcher to entirely remove themselves from an interpretation, because they’re human, and that’s not how humans work. It’s particularly interesting if this means they’re just going to take their participant’s word as gospel, because folks have this nasty habit of lying to researchers.

So, working through past literature now.

They got a good handle on the different parts of the spectrum though, nice, nice.

And critique essentialism, all to the good.

Then they’re saying that the establishment of asexuality as legitimate relied vision of an asexual person is the ‘gold star’ asexual (yikes yikes yikes) cause that sectioned off some people who you could still intervene with, so the social dominance of sex in society is unchallenged. This negates the ‘radical potential’ of sexuality which is to suggest the FUCKING WILD NOTION that maybe it’s okay for anyone to not want sex. Like, maybe sex could just be a thing, and not a prerequisite of being normal or intimate???

Anyway, the idea that it could suggest this buck wild idea basically spawned a bunch of articles expecting asexuality to pretty much fix everything wrong with society. We’re questioning mainstream culture, we’re rethinking intimacy, we’re desexualising identity, we’re radical (in the political sense of the word) just by existing. Also just “fundamentally anarchist” because we reclaim agency over our body by not wanting to have sex? Dunno about that one, but I might be down for an A tattoo in ace colours.

But our three musketeers say these are a bunch of claims just pulled out of a collective ass, there’s not data whatsoever. Also, all that stuff talks about ‘asexuality’ like it’s some distinct entity (like how folks talk about capitalism but good) and not a thing that people have. So there’s no discussion of how other aspects of people have (race, gender, class, disability etc) interact with asexuality. And of course they do, people are people.

And they want to see some real resistance, alright? Some proper political action and mobalisation, not just thinking radically. Or, I guess, living in a way that resists norms? Or maybe that counts as taking a political position. I guess we’ll have to wait because now it’s time for METHODOLOGY.

So right off the bat we’re talking qualitative. Interviews and a diary. Data from a study originally looking at asexual identity formation and the construction of intimate relationships, but they figure they had enough to do a little article on the politics of it too. And like they said before, they’re looking at what it is that their participants think they’re doing. They call themselves out a bit, saying that maybe their participants might not know if they’re being political, but I’m gonna add in here that this interview was probably advertised as being about the asexual identity. Folks were asked if they had ‘been an activist in the asexual community or in relation to asexual issues’ sure, but it wasn’t advertised as political so they might not be getting the political peeps!

AND ANOTHER THING (cause we’re into recruitment now), you’re not going to get the people like me. The people who care Very Much about their identity, but are also Very Scared to talk about it with pretty much everyone who hasn’t unlocked like sixth tier trust. And they don’t mention this, even while they’re patting themselves on the back for how many diverse identities they got (never mind that the sample is nearly 74% white, 76% younger than 29, and 54% had a university qualification). People who have the most issues are unlikely to be fitting into those categories, either.

But fuck it, let’s get to the analysis.

How central did the participants consider asexuality to be in their lives? You’ll be fucking astounded to know that it varied!!! Amazing, right? But mainly what they’re looking at is whether folks saw asexuality as a key factor marginalising them. (This is about where I started crying last time, but I’m channeling that into anger to try and keep it together so buckle the fuck up).

Our brave trio admits that they did “””””of course””””” find evidence of discrimination against asexual people, and say that they really don’t want to downplay it, but hey, most of the people they talked to didn’t experience it! They just talked about hearing about it! Like, NO SHIT MOTHERFUCKERS! YOU TALKED TO 50 FUCKING PEOPLE WHO WANTED TO TALK TO YOU! YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING TO FIND A TREND WITH THAT?? And also let’s not downplay what it can do to a person to hear about how others like them are threatened with rape, huh? Let’s maybe think about the effect of that, huh?

Like, yes, the participants who said that it’s not as bad as the history of oppression that homosexuality has are entirely valid. But the researchers who say multiple times that they don’t want to downplay the effect of discrimination and oppression and then ignore the instances they found in favour of talking about ways it could be worse are NOT.

And then they’re saying that it’s not significant to come out, because it’s ‘a lack’ and they cite a couple of participants who say they don’t come out on a regular basis and here is where we get to crux of my problem with their methodology. Because what they’re doing is they’re taking what these participants said and they’re going, ‘oh, yup, that must be why.’ And that’s all well and good, but if some rando I barely knew asked me why I didn’t come out to all an sundry I might also say something along the lines of ‘oh, well, you know, it’s not a huge deal, it’s not something the public needs to know.’ But Reader, it is a huge deal, at least for me. I’m fucking terrified of coming out to people. People LIE. We lie all the time, we tell people what we think they want to hear, and that means that there could very well be a reason I’m reading what these people said and hearing echoes of the tired old aphobic discourse.

Not saying that is what’s going on, just raising the possibility which they have yet to do.

Yeah, yeah, see here, heteroromantic asexual talking about how they realise their privilege and can pass as straight. Sound familiar? Maybe that is their experience. Maybe it’s what they think the interview wants to be their experience. WHO’S TO SAY?

Yeah, so they conclude that maybe asexuality isn’t very central in their participant’s lives, and we get the title quote of “asexual isn’t who I am. This is just what I am, not who I am as a person.” Which is interesting, because I was just reading another article where gay men said the same thing.

But they say this quotation shows that asexual can be a description of actions one doesn’t take rather than an aspect of a person which creates marginalisation and UM WHAT? You could just as easily say that ‘this is just what I am’ shows a deeper claiming of identity, making it a physical aspect of you which could actually lead to marginalisation. Hey, maybe the context of the quote makes it clear. Don’t know, though, BECAUSE THEY DON’T GIVE ANY.

And now we’re moving on to activism, which I don’t expect to make me as angry, but we’ll see. (Editor’s note: It did.)

Yeah, so there’s more of the drawing the line between how people would like recognition of asexuality and the activism necessary for the wider LGBT community, which, again, valid. But they say that this means that the people who say this feel less need to confront forms of discrimination, when the selfsame participant they are discussing explicitly outlined a need for better education.

APPARENTLY there was no suggestion that the educatory action people engaged in linked to a wider question of social change which, I mean, sure, had you not already called yourself out on participants maybe not being politically conscious I might allow. But you did, and what’s more, I bet you didn’t even fucking ask them if they saw it as social change. And since when was education not social change? How are folks supposed to know that it’s okay not to want sex if you don’t TELL THEM THROUGH THE EDUCATION SYSTEM???

And then they have the nerve the fucking audacity to say that while it is “of course” admirable, it doesn’t show a desire to challenge a social system. EDUCATION IS A SOCIAL SYSTEM, YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUTS.

Now, online activity

This is mainly about people’s attitudes to AVEN which I don’t really know anything about, but it’s people talking about how it feels to find a label and answers, which is some much needed wholesomeness. And I feel like people’s opinions on a particular organisation or website to use for community are much more valid to take at face value. Much less interpretation going on.

LGBT groups/politics. Oh dear.

“The relations between our participants and LGBT groups were complex and multifaceted” oh, I bet they were.

Again, they found more people talking about hearing others excluded rather than seeing them excluded themselves. Kinda idea that the political standpoints might be different, but they don’t really dwell on that, they just head on through to really ram home the idea that asexual people are all different and might not hold inherently queer political perspectives.

And finally, finally, the conclusion. People are different, political literature is wrong, asexuality is not a fucking cure all. Now, they outline a couple of responses to their argument that folks might take.

One: the idea that by being asexual, people have the potential to question society. They say this takes people out of their context, and that their way of looking at human action is better.

Two: a radical politics that hopes to transcend sexual society is the best/only way for asexuality to get social acceptance, never mind what the experiences of the participants say. They don’t want to say whether this is true or not, but say that sociologists should distinguish between arguing for the things they like and arguing that those things are what a certain group should do.

And now for my own conclusion. I know I have issues. I am very ‘sensitive’ around this topic. And, just to be clear, I don’t think there’s anything intrinsically radical in being asexual, either. I think it might inspire a person to take a radical bent on life, but that’s up to an individual.

But these folks, these silly sausages, in their eagerness to disagree with everyone fell over themselves to gleefully stab each other in the foot. They took an extremely shallow look at their data, not interrogating why people might be telling them these things at all. Additionally, they clearly didn’t want to find much evidence of social activism, and one can’t help but wonder if that is why their definition was so crushingly tight that it didn’t.

They got to an answer I agree with, but boy howdy did they make a mess doing it.

#i'm gonna have to write a proper review on this #i sunk so much time in

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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Hey (Trixya) - JJ

AN: Hi hello there this is my first-ever fic and I am freaking the fuck out but hey it’s 3:30AM and I have the rest of the night to regret every decision I’ve ever made.

Short lil’ Trixya thing I’ve had in my mind for a while now (even tho there’s barely any Trixie in it LOL). A lil' angsty. Mostly Katya-centric and Katya/Violet friendship-centric. Drag names are used but with male pronouns (except Violet, of course, has gender-neutral pronouns).

If people are interested I’ll do a follow-up.

I welcome (and would actually really appreciate) any and all constructive criticism, please!

Thank-you so much for reading!

XOXOXO,

~ JJ

“Okay… so… how long, EXACTLY, has it been since you last spoke to him…?”

Katya sighed and refused to look at the computer screen where Violet’s no-doubt judgemental face could be seen.

“I dunno. Little while. Not that long.” He dared sneak a glance and immediately regretted it as he was met with one of Violet’s admittedly perfect eye rolls.

“Bitch you didn’t even wish him a happy birthday. The entirety of the Internet freaked the fuck out. I was surprised some dumbass hashtag wasn’t trending because of it. #RIPTrixya or something. #KatyaKilledTrixya. Endless possibilities.”

“Hey!” Katya gasped indignantly, “Just because I didn’t wish him a public happy birthday on social media does not mean I didn’t wish him a happy birthday at all! I sent him a lovely text right at midnight.

“And besides!” he continued, “Fans are so over-dramatic. We have a show coming out soon. How can anyone think we had a falling out. Jesus.”

“You done yet?” Violet asked. Katya shot them an annoyed look.

“I am just saying,” Violet continued, “that it’s a little suspish. And I mean, really? A text? Not even FaceTime or a phone call? Seriously, Katya, what’s wrong?” Violet’s voice betrayed their stone-cold bitch persona, genuinely concerned for their friend.

Katya started to deny any reason for concern but stopped himself. Shoulders slumped and looking totally defeated, he looked away from Violet’s prying eyes and focused on picking a hangnail.

“It’s hard now.” He whispered.

“What’s hard?” Violet prompted.

“My dick,” Katya replies instantaneously, always turning to humour when the things get a little too serious for his liking.

“Katya I swear to God…” Violet sighs impatiently.

“Okay okay sorry.” Katya giggles nervously, eyes darting all over the place.

Silence.

“Katya if you don’t start talking soon I swear to God I will—”

“Okay!” Katya snaps, cutting Violet off. He takes a deep breath.

“It’s hard now—”

“You already said that.”

“If you don’t let me finish I am ending this call right now.” Katya threatened.

“By all means, continue.” Violet says, smirking.

“It's… like… ugh! I don’t know!” Katya growls, frustrated.

“Just do what you always do and let the word vomit happen. I’m sure I’ll catch the gist.” Violet suggests.

“Okay. So. Like. You know how part of our whole dynamic is that ongoing joke about me wanting to fuck him and him always denying me? It’s fun, right? I always thought so. Going off on those tangents was always such a gas and one of my favourite parts of all my sets. But like. Lately I don’t find it so much fun. It’s like I feel sick every time I start and then I end up going off of my usual script and saying stupid shit like ‘I wish he were my boyfriend’ or something and JESUS. I don’t know. It makes me upset now. Like we’ve gone from ‘ha ha he’ll never fuck me but I’ll sure die trying!’ to ‘wow this is really never gonna happen huh I wonder why I’m not good enough.’” He finishes with a deep sigh and waits for Violet to respond. He fully expects for them to laugh and comment on how silly this was and tell him to just get over it and move on.

What he’s not expecting is for Violet to remain quiet and stare intensely at what he assumes is his face on their screen. There’s a bit of something (excitement? hope?) in their eyes and Katya doesn’t know what’s happening. If it weren’t for Violet’s chest moving as they breathed he would have thought the connection had been frozen.

“Vi? You gonna say something?”

“You’re not done. I’m waiting for you to finish.” Violet replies quickly.

“Um. What?” Katya asks lamely.

“Your word vomit. You’re not done. There’s more. I’m waiting.”

“No? There’s not?” Katya is desperately trying to figure out what’s happening but comes up blank.

“Jesus Christ do not make me spell it out for y—” before they could continue, someone calls out Violet’s name and they look over their computer at whoever it is.

“Listen, I gotta go. I’m up soon. Call me back when you figure your fucking shit out.”

Before Katya can even begin to formulate a response, the call is disconnected.

***************

Katya tries his best to go to sleep, but it turns out to be impossible. He keeps going over his conversation with Violet in his head, trying to make sense of it all.

He sighs deeply and turns over in his bed, reaching for his phone. Normally, when he couldn’t sleep, he’d text Trixie a multitude of weird facts and random thoughts. The other man would usually be sound asleep but would always reply as soon as he woke up, usually with a simple “Katya what the fuck” before individually commenting on every text he received.

Normally.

But try as he might, Katya can’t bring himself to text Trixie. Hasn’t been able to for weeks now. It’s weird. He’s used to texting back and forth every day, even when they’re on opposite sides of the world. Sure, replies may be hours apart, but they still make it work.

He wonders if Trixie realizes they haven’t texted about anything other than the necessary reasons (such as their upcoming show) for going on three weeks now.

Probably not.

Katya opens up their conversation thread and types a simple you awake?

He quickly deletes it, sounding too much like a booty call.

hey Tracy it’s your mom

Delete.

you would not believe what I saw this afternoon walking down my neighbourhood

Delete.

are you still being a good person and honouring your NDA or can we talk about AS3 now

Delete.

I miss you.

Delete.

do you miss me?

Delete.

you know it’s weird it’s like I can’t breathe lately and I wonder if it has anything to do with us not talking ha ha ha

Delete.

do you realize how long it’s been since we’ve spoken

I don’t really know how to live my everyday life when you’re not a part of it

Jesus Christ do you even care

fuck you

I hate you

Delete.

DELETE.

He turns his phone off and shoves it underneath his comforter, deep at the bottom of the bed.

And suddenly breathing is very hard.

He tries to catch a breath but finds it impossible. He realizes he’s shaking and tries even harder to calm down. It’s been a while since he had a panic attack. He’s not sure he even knows how to deal with a panic attack any more.

Because he always calls Trixie whenever he thinks he can feel one coming on.

But that’s not really an option at the moment.

“Come on, Katya, put that fucking yoga training to use.” He tells himself, trying to take deep breaths.

It takes a while, definitely much longer than in the past, but he finally manages to calm down. Well. His breathing is still shaky and his hands still tremble slightly, but at least it no longer feels as if he’s about to die.

He turns his computer on, opens Skype, and hopes Violet is available.

Violet Chachki is offline.

Damn.

He types a quick 911 in the chat box and, almost immediately after hitting “SEND,” hears the familiar tone of an incoming call.

“What’s up, slut?” Violet greets him, a light teasing tone to their voice.

“Figured it out.” He replies numbly.

“Mmm figured what out?”

Okay now they’re just being a little cruel.

“That um. That. That I…”

“…are stupidly in love with one Trixie Mattel and want to father his biologically impossible babies?” Violet offers helpfully.

“Yeah that’d be it.” Katya whispers.

“And what are you gonna do about it.”

Katya snaps his head up so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t cause whiplash.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I am going to bury this deep deep DEEP down and never mention it ever.”

Violet rolls their eyes.

“So you came to this grand conclusion for what, exactly?”

“Well now I know. So I can hide it.”

Violet is about to reply when Katya cuts them off.

“We have a show coming up, Violet. We’ve built this little niche together. We are a business. I can’t let anything get in the way of that. I can’t do that to him.” Tears prick at his eyes and he can feel his breathing becoming elevated once again.

“Don’t you fucking dare freak out on me.”

Well. That’s certainly a different approach from Trixie’s gentle comfort. But if it works it works.

“Listen to me, Katya, because I am only going to say this once. You’d have to be fucking blind to not see the way Trixie looks at you. Like you hang the fucking moon. And yes I am aware of the fact that platonic love is very real and platonic soulmates are a thing but TRUST me when I say you two are so much more than that. It might’ve started out platonic, sure, but it has definitely grown into something so much bigger. You just weren’t ready. And now you are. So I am going to ask you one more time. What. are. you. going. to. do. about. it.”

Katya takes a deep breath and lets it out, slowly and shakily.

“Something really stupid,“ he replies.

Violet grins.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

***************

Okay so in retrospect hauling ass to Trixie’s place at four o’clock in the morning probably wasn’t the best idea.

But here he is.

He’s been ringing the doorbell and knocking for the past seven minutes and is seriously considering just hunkering down against the door and sleeping until Trixie finds him later on in the morning when he hears his angry voice from the other side of the door, closer with every word.

“I swear to God this better be a fucking emergency or if you’re here to murder me you better get it right on the first try because I am pissed the fuck off right now and could probably kill a man!”

The door is swung open angrily.

Trixie’s angry face quickly turns to one of shock.

Katya smiles shyly.

They stare at each other.

“Hey.”

#trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #violet chachki #light angst #tw panic attacks #jj #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant #hey by jj

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

When I Pray For You

Summary: Ashton Irwin had only planned on performing and enjoying his New Year’s Eve rocking out to 80s music. He never planned on the woman in the black dress shaking up his world. What a way to rock in the new decade.

A/N: So this was originally a one-shot piece designed to satisfy my widest daydreams after actually meeting Ashton Irwin at a New Year’s Eve party. And now it’s a 3-part series. Catch up here with Part 1 and Part 2.

Content: Pregnancy. Cursing. General shenanigans.

Word Count: 7.5K

And away, and away we go!

~~~

“So, who are we gonna pick to be the godfather?” I asked her, once the shock wore off and we were curled up in bed.

“All 3 of them,” Bridget said simply.

“All 3 of them for 1 kid?” I giggled. “Oh, they’re gonna be so spoiled…” I continued to giggle with a small groan.

“You didn’t really look at the picture did you?” she asked.

“No,” I said sheepishly. I had been too excited to realize anything about it besides it being a sonogram.

“Probably for the best.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Look closer at the picture, Ash.”

I scrambled to reach for where I had placed it on the bedside table. I squinted, then my eyes shot wide open as I took in the small “A”, “B”, and “C”. “Oh, fuck…” I breathed, clapping a hand to my mouth. “OH, FUCK!”

“More than you bargained for?” she laughed.

“TRIPLETS!” I was on my feet, tears streaming down my face.

“Ash, you’re yelling.”

“HOLY FUCK!” I was spinning in circles, my mind racing, my vision blurry. A year ago I was just a dude who liked a gorgeous girl in a dazzling dress. Now she was going to be my wife and she was carrying not one of my kids, not two, but three! Three babies! Three… babies...

“Ash? ASHTON!”

~~~

“Hey, there you are,” her voice said softly as I opened my eyes.

“What the fuck?” I mumbled, wondering why I was on the bedroom floor. “Did you kick me out of bed?”

She laughed. “Yeah, like I’m strong enough to do that.”

“Triplets, huh?” I asked, it all coming back to me as I stood up.

“Whoa, easy there,” she said, gripping my arms to help keep me steady.

“We’re gonna be outnumbered, baby…” I realized, sitting back down on the bed.

“I know. Good thing we got 3 godfathers on hold.”

“So, they each get one?”

“Yeah. Figured we could name them after them? Sort of anyone. Like initial wise. I want Irish names, though.”

I smiled at her. God, she was perfect, wasn’t she? “Wait, you said you were due in May. Do you know the genders already?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “Well, Sierra knows. And Crystal. They’re planning the reveal party.”

“So, Luke and Mike also know?”

“Nope. The guys don’t know a thing. There are small benefits to you guys being off on tour. Easier to keep things a secret.”

“God, how are you not showing?”

“Oh, I am,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“You’re still beautiful.” Then, “Wait, you said ‘Baby Irwin’, not ‘Irwins’.”

“I know.”

I quirked an eyebrow at her.

She laughed. “I wasn’t sure if you had noticed much besides that it was a sonogram. I didn’t want you to faint on me in public.”

“Good call,” I giggled weakly.

“You good?” she asked, snuggling up next to me, her brown eyes still holding a trace of worry.

I held her tight against me, pressing a kiss to her hair, “So good. You?”

“I’ve had about four months to get used to the idea, Ash. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Fuck!” I groaned, tears forming in my eyes, this time not with joy.

“What?”

“I’ve missed four months…” I said with a choked sob. Then, I was weeping.

“Ash,” her voice soothed, her arms holding me tight. “It’s okay, Ash. We’re okay.”

“I’m already the worst father!” I wailed, sounding like a broken boy, not a father and husband to me. Not at all a man that deserved her.

Suddenly her lips were on my arms, leaving those soothing kisses I’d come to desire so much when my mind went dark. And just like that, she was pulling me out of the pit, loving the unlovable. “There you are,” she smiled when my breathing became regular.

“Sorry,” I sniffed, wiping at my face, beyond embarrassed.

“Listen to the good voice,” she reminded me. “The one that tells you that you are going to be an amazing father because you are beautiful and strong and wild and caring.”

“That voice sounds a lot like you.”

“Good. Listen to it. I have a tendency of being right.”

~~~

“Wait what?” Calum blinked, the only calm one out of the trio when we told the band. Luke was sobbing in his hands. Mike was running laps around the house screaming.

“She’s having 3 babies, dumbass,” Sierra said with an eye roll, rubbing Luke’s back soothingly. “It’s okay, Lu.”

“I’m just so happy!” the tall blonde man smiled, wiping at his face and pulling it together.

“I call dibs on godfather!” Mike screamed, finally coming to a halt.

“You each get to be a godfather,” Bridget told him happily. “That’s the joy of having triplets, Mike. Nobody gets to be left out.”

He crossed his arms, green eyes narrowed. “Fine. I guess that’s fair. Hey, Crys?”

“Whoa…” Crystal said, holding up a hand. “3 babies in 1 year is enough, Clifford.”

“What? No. I want an engagement ring like Ash.”

“Oh, thank God!” Crystal laughed in relief. “No offense, babes,” she said to Bridget.

“None taken,” Bridget said back with a grimace. “Quit kicking each other!” she growled at her stomach.

“They’re moving?!” we all asked, rushing to touch her stomach.

“They need to stop!” Bridget said, shooing all the hands away except mine.

“What are they?” Mike asked.

“Normally I’d lecture you on how gender is a social construct,” Bridget told him, “But Si, get the cupcakes. Or help me to my feet. No, just bring me the cupcakes.”

“Are you tired, baby?” I asked her, pulling her feet into my lap.

“I’m a lot of things, Ash,” she chuckled wryly.

“A pregnancy reveal, and a gender reveal?” Luke said, teary-eyed again.

Don’t you dare start crying again, Luke. Because then I will,” Bridget threatened him.

“Alright, here you guys go,” Sierra said, bringing out a small box of cupcakes.

“Everybody filming?” I checked, opening the box while 5 phones turned in our direction.

“Whoa, just one of you,” Bridget said, waving her hands. “We don’t need the 5 voiceovers. Crystal, you record.”

“Irwin triplet gender reveal, here we go!” Crystal’s voice announced.

I held one of the cupcakes close to Bridget’s mouth so we could both bite into it, revealing the blue frosting inside. “Boy!” we all cheered.

“Dibs!” Calum decided, taking the cupcake from us. “Godfather to the boy!” Calum sneered playfully at Luke and Mike, shoving the rest of the cupcake in his mouth.

“My turn!” Mike said.

“Ready, baby?” I asked, holding up the second cupcake.

She pecked at my lips. “Ready.”

“Girl!” we cheered around our bites, handing the pink-filled cupcake to Mike.

“Whoohoo!” Mike whooped, swallowing the cupcake in one bite.

“Final one,” I said, waving the last cupcake for Crystal’s benefit.

“Alright, Luke, ready to find out what your godkid is?” Bridget grinned, her tongue blue, pink frosting smeared by her lips.

Luke was practically vibrating with excitement for his turn.

“Here goes nothing,” Bridget shrugged, as we bite into the last cupcake, pink frosting coating our faces. “Girl! You’re outnumbered, Ash!” Bridget cheered, a wild grin on her face.

“Protect you sisters, Bubba,” I whispered, rubbing my hands over her stomach.

“They can protect themselves,” Bridget told me sternly, handing Luke the cupcake.

~~~

“Oh, my God…” I grumbled, placing my phone face down on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?” she asked me, half asleep in my arms as we laid together on the couch.

“Nothing. The video Crys posted,” I sighed, pushing my hair back.

“What about it? People like it, don’t they?”

I rubbed at my eyes in frustration. A year later and she still wasn’t fazed. She grinned every time she got a new follower, excitedly waving her phone at me. She waved at the paparazzi and asked how they were. “They do. And they don’t. Just the same old bullshit.”

She frowned. “You know I don’t really pay much attention to what they say. We know the truth. Fuck what everyone else thinks.”

“I know.”

“You’re angry,” she said, putting her hands on my face. “What are they saying?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to upset you.”

Her frown deepened. “Ash…”

I smiled a little and pushed her lips up. “Stop that,” I scolded lightly.

“That’s my thing,” she said, smiling anyway. “What did they say?”

“Just assumptions that I asked you to marry me because you were pregnant. How it’s not very ‘Christian’ of me,” I said, leaving out the worst assumptions- that she had either cheated and was trapping me, or that she had gotten pregnant on purpose, again to trap me.

She laughed. “God, that’s such utter bullshit. People really will shit on other people’s happiness, huh? Wow…”

“Sometimes people just suck,” I shrugged, still angry at the hate people were giving her.

She frowned again. “Uh-oh… you’re not mad about what they’re saying about you, are you? Which means…” she stopped, her mind putting the pieces together. “Those assholes…” she muttered, angry tears in her eyes.

“Shh, baby, it’s fine. We know the truth,” I soothed, my hands rubbing up and down her back as her anger made her break down.

“That is such BULLSHIT!” she cried into my shirt. “We planned this! These babies are planned! We’re getting married because we want to!”

“Shh, it’s okay,” I continued to soothe, letting her give voice to both our anger.

“This is bullshit, Ash!”

“I know.”

“People fuckin suck…” she mumbled, her exhaustion overriding her anger.

“Do you want me to address the comments? Or just leave it be?”

“Address it please…” she mumbled against me.

I reached for my phone, clicking it open and going live, not caring how much hell I’d catch for this with management. This was my personal life people were going after. They had made the mother of my children- my future wife- cry. I was pissed. But I needed to stay calm, for her sake, and maybe for my own. “Hey, guys. Ashton here. So, as some of you know, Bridget and I are expecting triplets. As some of you also know, we’re engaged. And I just wanted to take this moment to clarify a few things. So, Bridget and I decided we wanted to have kids together while I was still in Europe last summer for No Shame. It was a decision we made together. We weren’t expecting for her to get pregnant as quickly as she did. We knew this was something that takes time. But regardless of how short it took us, or how long it could have taken, the fact remains the same: we’re beyond excited to be parents together. We were, and are ready for this. Now, as far as the proposal goes, I actually bought those rings the day after we announced publicly that we were together last March.”

“You did?” her voice asked, her head lifting up.

“Course I did. I love you, baby,” I said, kissing her softly.

“I love you too,” she smiled, tears in her eyes.

“Good tears?”

“Very good.”

“Good. Cuz 5 minutes she was angry crying that some of you were saying… well frankly some rude shit,” I told the camera and her face hid back in my chest. “Anyway. I had the rings about 2 months before we decided to have kids. And when I proposed last week- because I kept stupidly waiting for the right moment, even though every moment with her is the right moment,” I paused to chuckle as she hiccup happy sobbed into my chest. “I didn’t know she was pregnant. I proposed because I love her and want to spend my life with her, preferably as her husband. The pregnancy and proposal have nothing to do with each other besides the fact that they were both going to happen eventually. In conclusion, yes, we’re excited to be outnumbered by our triplets. And yes, that’s ours as in hers and mine. Yes, we’re excited to be engaged and start planning our wedding. Yes, our heads are spinning. No, we don’t think it’s too fast. We both believe life is too short to not chase after what- or in this case who- you love. And as for the Christian aspect of it? God loves me because he has blessed me with an amazing woman who is carrying not one, not two, but three of my children like the unbelievable badass she is. I think He’s got bigger things to worry about than two people who actually love each other having babies out of wedlock. To those of you who have expressed your happiness, love, and support to my growing family, we love and thank you. To the rest of you? Well, this is the truth straight from the source. Anything you wanna add, baby?” I asked, glancing down to find her asleep on my chest. “Oh,” I said to the camera, my voice dropping to a whisper. “My badass superhero of a woman is asleep. Love you all, bye!”

~~~

“I pray you love like your momma,” her voice sang softly from the couch. I paused in my entrance, listening to her sing to our babies, her hands moving across her stomach. God, she was beautiful.

“Which song is that?” I said, coming over to kiss her.

“Oh!” she said, her cheeks flushing, her hand scrambling to stop the music. “Nothing, just a song I like to sing to them sometimes.”

“Country, huh?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow. Any time I caught her singing and asked what it was, I always got the “just a song I like to sing sometimes,” response, like she was embarrassed to admit that she liked other genres of music. I grabbed her phone, taking note of the song title.

She shrugged. “I like it.”

“I know you do.”

Her blush deepened. “Oh, I was thinking of names now that we know the genders.”

“Oh?” I asked, perking up and moving to sit next to her, helping her adjust against me.

“Yeah. Connor Theodore, Logan Rose, and Monroe Grace.”

“That sounds perfect, baby,” I smiled at her.

When she drifted off to sleep, something she took full advantage of on her days off because the pregnancy often left her exhausted, I set out to work. I listened to the song she had been singing, choking back the tears and picking softly at the guitar strings, determined to learn it as fast as possible.

“Ash!” her voice called out, drawing me from my thoughts. “I need help!”

I chuckled, setting the guitar aside and made my way downstairs. “Are you stuck? I asked her, giggling as she tried to roll herself to her feet.

“I am 6 months pregnant with 3 of your children,” she growled, her brown eyes hard. “Help me off this damn couch, or so help me God, I will end you where you stand.”

I giggled despite her threat. “C’mon, you,” I said, giving her my hands and pulled her up with ease. Pregnancy or not, she was still as light as a feather.

“I hate how easy that is for you,” she grumbled, staring up at me.

“How easy what is? This?” I asked, bending to wrap an arm under her knees and scooping her into my arms.

“I don't know whether to cry because of my anger or your thoughtfulness,” she mumbled, her hands gripping my shirt.

“How about neither, and I rub your feet?” I suggested.

“And my back?” she sniffed anyway.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

~~~

“Aw, look at these,” she said with a small laugh, moving her laptop so I could look at the pictures.

“You look beautiful,” I agreed, admiring the picture of her in the flowing dress, picturing her in a different one.

“I look 7 months pregnant,” she said with an eye roll. “You, on the other, look hot. As per usual.”

I chuckled, heat rising to my cheeks.

“Seriously. It’s really not fair how hot you are. Like, look at this shit,” she said, finger pointing at a picture where I was behind her, my hands cradling her stomach, her head tilted up, her eyes closed, a small on both our faces as I kissed her head. “You, sir, walk a fine line between sweet and sexy, and you look damn good doing it.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

“You could. But you’d be wrong.”

“I also have a tendency of being right,” I smirked, kissing her deeply.

~~~

“Ash!” she said, shaking me awake. “Ash, wake up!”

“What?” I asked, sleepily, rubbing my eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong!” she said, her voice laced with panic.

Suddenly I was wide awake, jumping out of bed and pulling her to her feet. “What’s wrong? What’s going on? It’s too early for labor, isn’t it? Your due date isn’t for another 6 weeks,” I rushed, the words flying out in a panic.

“I know!” she cried, fear written all over her face. “Ash, I’m scared!”

“It’s gonna be okay, baby,” I promised, swallowing my own fear. This had to be okay. It had to.

Everything was a messy blur of tears and whispered promises as I felt my world crumbling around me. It felt like I was watching somebody that looked like me scream at the nurse manning the front desk that something was wrong, then watching as they wheeled her into a room. My weight finally gave and I sank to the ground, sobbing into my hands. Please God, let them be okay, I begged silently.

“Ash? ASHTON!” Calum’s voice called into the fog I was trapped in, and then three pairs of arms were pulling me to my feet, a cup of water pushed into my hands. I couldn’t even remember when or who they had called them. I couldn’t remember anything beyond the sheer terror on her face. The sheer terror of a mother scared for her children. “Easy, mate. We got ya,” Calum said and then I was sitting down. “What happened?”

“I- I dunno…” my voice sounded and everything snapped into focus, the dull ringing and fog finally fading out. “She woke me up. She said something was wrong. And now I’m here.”

“She’s in room 304,” Crystal said and I took in all their faces. Faces that conveyed no emotion except for the storm of panic and worry swirling in their eyes. They were holding it together, like Bridget needed them to. Like I needed to do myself.

I nodded at her words, hastily wiping at my face and downing the small paper cup of water. “Will you guys stay?” I asked, standing up.

“We’re right here, mate,” Calum assured me and they all nodded. “Go be with her. She needs you.”

“Hey, there you are,” her voice said softly, holding out a hand to me when I found myself in the doorway of the hospital room.

I choked back a sob of relief and quickly moved to her. “I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” I promised, placing kissed in her hair.

“Good, because I was really scared.”

“Did they tell you what was going on?”

She nodded. “But, I- I wasn’t really paying attention. Everything was happening so fast, and I- I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” I soothed, catching the tear that slid down her cheek. “It’s alright. You’re safe. That’s what matters.”

“We’re safe,” she corrected, her hands grazing her stomach. “I paid attention to that much.”

“Oh, thank God,” I sighed with relief, feeling the weight lift from my chest.

~~~

“Ugh this sucks!” she screamed in frustration, chucking the remote. She had been on bed rest for a week and was going stir-crazy.

“Well, the baby shower’s later today,” I told her, trying to keep her mind off the fact that she wasn’t allowed to be on her feet for more than an hour every day.

“Well, the baby shower’s later today,” she mocked, angrily.

I let out my breath in a small huff. I knew she was a storm of emotions, but it didn’t make her lashing out at me any easier to take. “I’m gonna go clean up downstairs so the girls have an easier time setting up,” I told her. “Call if you need anything.”

“Wait!” she said, and I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry!”

I smiled softly and moved back across the room, crawling into bed beside her. “It’s okay,” I told her, holding her in my arms. “I know you don’t mean it.”

“It’s not okay! I’m being a bitch!”

I chuckled and held her tighter. “Do you want your baby shower present from me now?”

“You got me a present?”

“Well… sort of…” I said, rubbing at the back of my neck.

“Well, what is it?” she asked, getting excited.

“Sit tight, I’ll be right back,” I said, patting her leg and getting up.

“Ha-ha, really funny, Irwin. Sit tight? Like where the fuck am I gonna go? Mars?”

I chuckled as she ranted, running down the hall to fetch my guitar- reliving briefly the way she had looked back in May when she asked to play it for the first time. “Ready?” I asked, once I was back, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry? That’s my present? Awesome…”

I gave a small shake of my head and started playing. “I talk to God about you, and I ain’t even met you yet. Everybody’s waiting on you here. I can’t wait to feel your heart beat when I lay you on my chest. I’m already holding back my tears. I wanna be better than my dad was. I hope that I don’t mess this whole thing up,” I sang, altering the lyrics just the slightest.

“Oh, Ash…” she breathed, tears spilling down her face before her voice joined me, both of us gently singing our way through the song. “You really taught yourself to play that?” she asked, wiping at her eyes.

I nodded. “Course I did. You sing it all the time to them. I wanted to be able to do the same.”

“I fuckin love you, Ashton Irwin.”

“I love you too, Bridget Irwin.”

“I’m not your wife yet, mister.”

“We can fix that.”

She laughed. “Let me have these babies, and get back into shape first.”

“Why? You’re already beautiful.”

“Ash, I’m literally not allowed on my feet. I don’t even have a dress.”

“Alright, fine. But, I’m gonna make you my wife, sooner rather than later.”

“You better.”

I sang that song again to her before bed, after she kissed my scars. “Is this part of the ritual now?” I joked. “You kiss my scars, I sing you and them to sleep?”

“You bet your ass it is.”

I grinned, more than happy to comply.

~~~

“Ash!” her voice called from down the hall.

“Be right t- ow! Fuck!” I grumbled, smacking my head on the frame of the crib the guys were helping me assemble. With the baby shower over and done with, we were now getting changing the guest room into a nursery.

“Easy mate,” Calum said, as they all snickered at me.

“Fuck you,” I laughed, dashing out the room and down the hallway. “Whatcha need, baby?”

“Hospital!” she screamed, curled up in the fetal position on the bed. “Ow, ow, OW! STOP THAT!”

“Contractions?” I asked. We still had 3 weeks left until her due date.

“YES! And Connor won’t stop kicking!”

“How do you know it’s Connor?” I giggled, rushing over to help her up.

“The one with the wicked kicks would be Cal’s godkid,” she glared at me.

I shrugged. “Could be Monroe. Kicking you while you’re down? Sounds a lot like what a wild child would do.”

“Sounds like you should respectfully shut the fuck up! Hospital! Now! Please!”

“Up we go,” I said, scooping her up. “Guys, it’s showtime!” I called out as I carried her down the hall and downstairs, hearing the mad scrambling in the bedroom. “Mike, grab her bag. Luke, call everybody. Cal, c’mon, you’re driving us.”

“Ow, ow, OW!”

“Keep breathing, baby. You got this. I’m right here.”

“Ash! I’m not ready!” she told her, her voice panicked.

“Look at me,” I urged. “You can do this. You’re going to be amazing. I’ll be right here with you.”

“No fainting,” she told me.

“No fainting,” I promised.

~~~

“Aw, look at my gorgeous girls,” I smiled softly, watching her hold both Logan and Monroe in her arms.

“Aw, my beautiful boys,” she smiled back at me as I held Connor close.

“Let me know when you get tired,” I told her, seeing the exhaustion on her face.

“But…” she pouted.

“You need to rest,” I said, putting Connor down and coming to get the girls.

“No,” she softly whined. “I wanna hold them forever.”

I chuckled and placed a kiss to her forehead. “I know, baby. I know.”

“God, I could stare at them for hours, you know?” she said, looking longingly at the three bassinets as I set the girls down.

I looked down at the three of them, nodding. I knew exactly what she meant. I would never get tired of this view.

“Knock, knock,” Calum’s voice said, knuckles rapping against the door, Luke and Mike on his heels. “Up for visitors?”

“C’mon in guys,” Bridget smiled, beckoning them. “Did the girls go home?”

“Yeah, they’re making the nursery nice now that we got everything built,” Luke said.

“Thanks guys,” I answered. “Go wash up, and I’ll introduce you to the babies.”

“Oh, they’re so small,” Mike said, his normally loud voice a hushed whisper. “Who’s who?”

“Cal, this is Connor Theodore,” I said, placing the blue bundle in Calum’s waiting arms.

“What’s up, Theo? I’m Uncle Cal,” Calum cooed.

“Luke, this is Logan Rose,” I said, handing Luke the yellow bundle.

“Oh, hey there Lo-Ro,” he grinned.

“And Mike, this is Monroe Grace,” I finished, handing Mike the pink bundle.

“Aw, your pink like my hair used to be Mo-town. Your dad knows us so well.”

“Watch, Theo, Uncle Mikey’s gonna tell your sister how he’s punk rock,” Calum teased.

“I am punk rock, Mo-town, and I’m gonna teach you how to be punk rock, too.”

~~~

“Fuck!” she cursed, her eyelids flying open.

“What?” I asked, instinctively lifting my arm for her to curl up on my chest. “The babies are fine, go back to sleep.”

“No, it’s not the babies,” she said, her hands fluttering in a panic. “God, I’m the worst…”

“What’s wrong?” I chuckled.

“I didn’t kiss you,” she whispered, horrified. “My mind is all over the place lately, and I’m so tired, and I… I can’t believe I forgot. I never forget.”

“Oh,” I said, understanding. Then, “It’s okay, baby. We did the song.”

“No it’s not okay. Give me your arms.”

“Baby, you’re tired. I’m tired. We’re all tired.”

“Give me your arms, Irwin.”

I chuckled again and let her tug my wrists to her lips. “Never forget that I love you. Past, present, future. Every part,” she murmured against my skin.

“Only if you promise to remember the same. Our life together? It’s everything I’ve ever prayed for.”

“Me too,” she smiled up at me and my heart raced. “All those times I prayed for some sort of purpose, some sort of joy to override the pain, it was really you. I was praying for you and this life we’ve built and are continuing to build all my life, and I never even knew it.”

“I love you,” I said, even though those three words were far too simple to ever express how I truly felt towards the woman in my arms.

“I love you, too,” she said with that smile of hers, and I knew she felt what I couldn’t say. That overwhelming, whirlwind, pure fairytale magic that is finding your soulmate. That sense of knowing that every bad day is made better by looking into their eyes, that your best memories will be the ones you make with them. I had gone eight years thinking that the closest I would get to soulmates were my brothers, and I had never been so happy to have been so wrong. She was the piece I never knew I was missing. She was the answer to the prayer I never knew I was praying.

~~~

“Fuck…” I muttered, packing my bags reluctantly.

“What?” she asked.

“I don’t want to go. I’ve always been excited to tour. But this time? I just… fuck!”

She chuckled. “It’s only the summer, Ash.”

“I know, but I don’t want to leave you guys.”

“What if I told you that you didn’t?”

“What?!” I asked, my eyes going wide. “But, I thought…”

“Well, they had their checkup, and they’re doing well. So, I asked. Figured worse Dr. Robbins could say was “no.”

“And she said yes?!”

She nodded. “Since it’s the States, she didn’t see the harm.”

“This is great!” I cheered, packing with more excitement now.

“This is gonna be the most hectic summer vacation I’ve ever had,” she giggled.

“It’s gonna be the best summer vacation we’ve ever had,” I corrected.

“Is it a vacation if you’ll technically be working?”

“Every day with you is a vacation.”

She laughed. “That just might be the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said. And you’re gonna eat those words, Ash. A tour with three two-month olds? Oh, boy, what are we doing?”

“Taking our first family vacation?”

~~~

“No, put it back,” Bridget said, her voice stern, not even looking at whatever Mike had in his hands for his goddaughter. It had become a problem, the men spoiling their godkid as an attempt to prove who was the better godfather. A lousy competition that had no real winner. But it meant Bridget and I hadn’t really had to buy much for the triplets ourselves, so I wasn’t complaining. Even if my house was bursting at the seams with their generosity war.

“C’mon! Babies first tour!” Mike pouted.

“Hey, if he gets to buy something for Monroe, we get to buy stuff, too,” Luke said, crossing his arms, enacting the rule Bridget had put in place when tour started. All purchases for the triplets had to be approved, given that space was limited. Clothes, plushies, and necessities like diapers were the only things being approved thus far, and sparingly so.

“Nobody is buying any of these babies anything,” Bridget said, fighting to keep her voice down in the store because the triplets were asleep in the stroller and hell hath no fury like 3 screaming babies. “We came for ear plugs and diapers. Not clothes and toys.”

“But...” Calum started, holding up a pair of baby Vans that matched the ones on his feet.

“Connor doesn’t even walk!” she hissed.

“But he will!”

“Oh, if Cal’s buying Connor Vans, can I get Lo-Ro these pair of boots?” Luke asked, his blue eyes wide, lower lip jutting down.

“They don’t walk, Lucas!” She stood toe-to-toe with the man who had over a foot in height over her, her brown eyes hard behind her glasses. “Mikey, Monroe hardly has any hair to dye, dude,” she added, still staring the taller blonde down.

“I’m behind you. How did y- How did sh- WITCHCRAFT!” Mike yelled.

The triplets started screaming. Bridget rolled her eyes, glasses pushing up as she pinched the bridge of her nose. A sigh escaped her lips as she bent down over the stroller. “Here,” she said, passing a screaming three month old to the rightful godfather. “You caused this. You soothe. And you!” she said, wheeling around to face me, her index finger poised to stab at my chest.

I held up my hands and took a step back. “What did I do?!”

Her eyes narrowed. “You could be helping.”

“I got the diapers,” I said, holding up the package as proof.

“Thank you,” she said graciously despite the stress etched upon her face as the men struggled to soothe the babies. It seemed like she was constantly stressed these days. I didn’t blame her. First time parenthood to one kid was stressful, but three? Even with the help, it was hard. “Guys really? Rock, sing. Come on, help a woman out. Soothe your godkid, and you can buy them one thing, okay? But only one.”

“Loser gets diaper duty?” Calum grinned.

“You’re on!” the blondes grinned back.

“Oh, I like this idea,” Bridget said in a hushed voice, lifting my arm and placing it over her shoulders as she leaned into me. “Should’ve done this way sooner.”

“You okay?” I asked.

“I’m just tired.”

“I know, baby. I’ll get the guys on baby duty tonight, and we can do something just us, okay?”

“That sounds wonderful, but you know I’m gonna miss my babies, Ash.”

“I know. You’re a great mom, you know that?”

“You’re a great dad. I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

~~~

“Do you, Ashton, take Bridget to be your wife?”

“I do,” I smiled at her, looking fucking radiant in that white dress like I’ve been imaging her in since we met. I took her hand and flipped her Claddagh ring around.

“Bridget, do y-“

“Yes!” she interrupted, giggling, her fingers quickly fixing my own ring.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride in 3… 2… HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

I kissed her. She kissed back. It was time-stopping and earth-shattering. “Happy New Year, my wonderful wife,” I said, my cheeks sore from my smile.

“Happy New Year, my handsome husband,” she smiled back.

“I can buy you a real wedding band if you want,” I told her, taking her left hand in mine. “Or a real engagement ring. Whatever you want.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need fancy. I just need you and our babies.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Then, she giggled. “We really need to stop one-upping this holiday every year. I think we used all the good ideas.”

I shook my head. “Never. I love our tradition of starting a new year in a new way together.”

“You know, Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. But I think it just got bumped to second place.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

~~~

“Hey Ash?” she asked me after we got the triplets in bed after an exhausting birthday party for our now three year olds. Just where the hell did the time go?

“Yeah?” I asked, collapsing beside her on the bed.

“We need a bigger house.”

“Why? The girls are fine sharing a room, and they guys and I finished cleaning out the music room for Connor.” It wasn’t that we couldn’t afford another house, I just wasn’t one of those types who needed to live extravagantly. I had bought my 3-bedroom home when I moved to LA with the purpose of raising a family one day. 3 bedrooms was more than enough for us.

“Ash,” she said, handing me a wad of toilet paper. “We need a bigger house.”

“What’s this?” I asked, my eyes wide.

“The third test I’ve taken today. The proof that we’re gonna need a bigger house.”

“You’re pregnant?!”

“Yep. And I know, we haven’t talked about it. I thought I was fine with the triplets. But, they’re getting so big. And, then this just happened. Surprise?”

“This is great!” I cheered, pulling her into a hug.

“Really?”

“Yes! Triplets on the first go-round was a little more than I bargained for, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted more. But, God, baby, I’ll have as many kids with you as you want. I love watching you be a mom.”

“I love watching you be a dad,” she smiled up at me. “But, seriously. We need a bigger house.”

“I’ll call the realtor in the morning,” I promised.

“Whoa, I was half-joking,” she laughed. “It could be one, and if it’s a boy, we can just stick him with Connor.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. I will be happy regardless, but just don’t.”

~~~

“Congratulations, looks like triplets again,” the doctor smiled.

“You’re not gonna faint on me, are you?” Bridget asked me, her voice teasing.

“Nah, I’m good,” I managed to get out through the lump in my throat, my eyes glued to the three blobs on the small screen.

“Ash, stop,” she said, her fingers soft on my arm. “You’re spiraling.”

“I never want to miss another moment,” my voice whispered, feeling all the hurt from missing the first half of her first pregnancy bubbling up inside of me.

“Look at me, Ash,” she coaxed, using the same soft tone she used with the triplets to get them to calm down. When my hazel eyes met her brown ones, she smiled. “You’re being too hard on yourself. You are the best damn man in the world, alright? You love your family and we love you right back.”

“But, I-” I protested.

“Shh, listen to the good voice.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and taking a few slow breaths to steady myself, listening to the voice in my head that was her. It was always her.

“Now, you’ll need to take it easy,” the doctor was saying when I refocused.

“Take it easy?” Bridget asked, eyebrows quirking upwards.

“Yes. A woman of your build carrying triplets… given your history…”

“History? The triplets were a week premature. I had them naturally. You can’t possibly be suggesting that this is a high risk pregnancy, can you?” Her tone wasn’t sad or worried. It was angry. Like she was insulted.

“Mrs. Irwin, I’m simply saying we need to be cautious. We don’t want a repeat of pre-labor scares.”

“I have three three year olds, six classes of high schoolers, a husband, and a band that need me,” she said, her tone sharp. “Taking it easy isn’t something I have the luxury of doing. So, be straight with me, is there a reason to be worried?”

“No. Not at all. You’re healthy. They’re healthy. You’re still young. But we do need to take previous experience into consideration.”

She scoffed, turning to me.

I squeezed her hand, stepping up to be the man she believed I was. “You got us, baby. Tour’s right around the corner. Whatever it takes, whatever you need, you’ll have us by your side at every step.”

“Right, the touring,” the doctor said, knowingly.

“Can she not go?” I asked. If she couldn’t go on tour, I didn’t know what we're going to do because each option seemed worse than the last. I could go and take the triplets with me, but she would fight me- and win because she would cry- because she didn’t want to be away from her babies. She could stay with the triplets, but I would fight because she was supposed to be taking it easy and I didn’t want to be away from her and my babies, and we would both cry and lose that fight. Or, I could not go on tour, pissing off management, fans, and her because “Ashton Fletcher, it’s your job. We’ll be fine,” which would circle back to fighting over the first two options again.

The doctor smiled. “There’s nothing to worry about. Everybody’s healthy. We’re only 8 weeks in.”

“Then why are you worrying me with this ‘previous experience’ shit?” Bridget sighed. Her glasses pushed up as she pinched her nose. “I’m sorry. You’re the doctor. You’re just making me aware of all the different possibilities. But we’re all healthy?”

“Yes. Everyone is healthy and growing as expected.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

~~~

“Alright guys, you ready?” Bridget asked excitedly, handing each triplet a cupcake. Her and I already knew the genders: 2 boys, 1 girl- balance. And we were handing each triplet a cupcake of the opposite gender to gauge their reactions. They knew Momma had babies in her tummy. They knew that made everybody excited and Momma extra cranky and tired. They were excited to be big siblings, even helping me sing every night. But right now, the focus was on the sugary sweet in their hands.

“Cupcakes!” they cheered and we giggled at their excitement.

“Whoa, hold on,” I said, hands reaching out to stop them from shoving the desserts in their mouths. “You gotta wait a second.”

“Alright. Irwin triplets revealing Irwin triplets in 3… 2… go!” Bridget said from behind her phone.

“Blue!” the girls said, excitement in their brown eyes.

“Pink!” Connor shouted, outraged, crossing his arms. “I wanted blue!” came the wail, the lip quiver, and the tears.

“Aw, Connor, it’s okay, Bubba,” Bridget soothed from behind the camera. “It means you’re gonna have another sister!”

“No!” The wail became louder and he kicked his legs, throwing the cupcake. “No sister! Brother!”

“Bubba, you are. Look at sissies and their cupcakes,” I urged. “You’re gonna get 2 brothers!”

Now the girls wailed, realizing what was happening. “No! No brother! Sister!” Two more thrown cupcakes. Three pairs of kicking legs. Three high-pitched wails of despair.

“Well, that went about as planned,” Bridget shrugged, turning the camera. “Triple the trouble just got crazier.” She ended the video and put her phone in her pocket. “Alright, hey!” she said, making her voice happy for them. “Everybody gets what they want. Connor, you’re getting a brother. Girls, you’re getting a sister. See? No tears. C’mon,” she coaxed.

“I have an idea!” I said, trying to help. “You guys wanna go see our new home?”

Bridget looked at me, her eyes wide. “What?! We got the house?!” she shrieked, clamping her hand over her mouth in shock. “The one with the basement and the pool?”

I nodded, grinning. She had been picky in our house search. I had wanted a house big enough for everyone to have their own bedroom. She wanted a house small enough to clean herself. And when her eyes light up as we toured the 4-bedroom house with a basement and a pool, I knew I would pay whatever price I had to to get it for her. “Got the keys this morning.”

“Oh, Ash, I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby,” I said, kissing her.

“Ew!” the triplets giggled.

~~~

“Cal, this is your goddaughter, Teagan Caroline,” I said, handing Calum the purple bundle.

“Welcome to Team Cal,” he smiled down at her.

“Luke, this is Ryan Lee, your godson,” I said, placing the red bundle in Luke’s arms.

“Check it out, Lo-Ro,” Luke cooed at his goddaughter, crouching to show her Ryan. “Wanna help me paint his nails and find him some boots?”

“Yeah!” she agreed happily. Then, “Unca Lu, new boots, too, please?”

“You can have whatever you want, princess.”

I rolled my eyes, placing the green bundle in Mike’s arms. “Mike, meet Gavin Mitchell.”

“Aw, what’s up, buddy?”

Calum snickered, realizing the naming pattern. “Who named them this time? I see the theme.”

Bridget grinned, proud of herself. “Are you saying that sharing your initials with your godkids isn’t the cutest fuckin shit?”

“It’s pretty fuckin genius, is what it is.”

~~~

“This color!” Logan’s voice yelled.

“No, this one!” Monroe shouted back.

“It’s my room, too!” Teagan, put in angrily.

“Daddy!” All three blondes with brown eyes turned to me.

I sighed, rubbing at my face. Painting rooms was going to be a nightmare. “Boys, did you guys pick a color?” I asked with another sigh, ignoring the glares. Just another day with two sets of triplets.

Three brown haired, hazel-eyed boys, one a head taller than the other two, shook their heads at me. “We all want different colors too, Daddy.”

“Baby?” I asked, my eyes pleading for her for some of that compromising greatness that has weathered every disagreement and tantrum for the last eight years.

“They have 4 walls,” she shrugged. “Let’s pick a base color for the fourth wall and then they call all paint a wall how they want?”

“That’s a lot of paint that’s gonna go to waste, baby.”

“So, we’ll have a paint war in the basement.”

“Paint war!” the boys grinned.

Hours later, bedroom walls painted, the Great Paint War of 2029 took place in the basement, walls and skin a splattered mosaic rainbow.

~~~

“Happy New Year,” I whispered, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Ew!” six voices giggled.

“Happy 10 years,” she smiled back, a hand shooing the kids away. “Go bother your godfathers.”

“We’ve been married 8 years,” I corrected.

“We’ve been together 10 though,” she told me. “Best decade of my life.”

“Best decade of mine,” I answered back.

She sighed in content, leaning into me. “This is everything I ever prayed for.”

“And you’re not even religious,” I teased.

“I don’t have to be religious to believe, Ash. If this past decade has taught me anything, it’s that we make our own magic.”

“You just said you prayed for this,” I laughed at her endearing inconsistencies.

“Just in case,” she smirked. “Didn’t wanna mess this up. Can never be too careful.”

“Thank God for answered prayers.”

“Thank God for all of my wrongs leading me right to you. And that leather vest. Do you still have that by any chance?”

I laughed. “Depends. Do you still have that black dress.”

“See me around later and find out.”

I laughed again, pulling her tight to me. “I love you.”

“Every part?”

“Every part.”

“Me too. You’re my favorite part of everything, Ash.”

“Even your new favorite holiday?”

“Especially my new favorite holiday.” Then, her lips were on mine for my favorite time-stopping, earth-shattering kiss.

#when i pray for you #ashton irwin #ashton fic #dad!ash #5sos #galcal irwin

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imagineyourstars · 7 years

Note

Hello it's me again. I like to request a scenario about the transfer student and her 2-A classmates hanging out on their days off.

this !!! i wrote a lot more than i originally planned !!! (i wrote 4000 words lmao) i made sure to keep the pronouns gender-neutral too ! i tried to keep it friendly but there’s a bit of ship-tease too~

but aaaaaa i love friendship requests…. they heal my soul…. writing for groups can be a bit chaotic sometimes but it’s really fun !!! i hope you like it ♥ and thank you for blessing me with such great requests !! - mod mademoiselle

Today was going to be a good day, you just knew it.Maybe it was how your lips were always tugging into a small smile, or how youwere humming happily while you were getting breakfast ready. You definitelywere in a good mood, and the reason for it all just so happened to be sendingyou a hundred of text messages per second.

“Don’t be late, alright !” “You remember how to getthere I hope ?? If you don’t I can come and pick you up !!” “Today’s gonna beso much fun !!” Subaru wouldn’t stop sending more and more texts, to the pointwhere you just couldn’t keep up with the flow and answer him. Well, it’s notlike he would mind, not with how excited he already seemed to be.

Today was theday when you and your classmates had agreed to see each other, and you’d beenlooking forward to it ! You’d been pretty busy this summer, and everyone elsealso had their own things to do, so you couldn’t really see the boys often.But you sure missed them, and it seemed like everyone missed you too !

You finished getting ready, checking one last time youwere looking okay and then left your place. You didn’t even take the time tocheck you didn’t forget anything, but it was more than alright ! You’d beenpreparing since yesterday evening, after all. You even found yourselfpratically running until the meeting point, the middle of the shoppingdistrict. Hokuto and Makoto were already there, and when the blond boyenthusiastically waved to you, you couldn’t help but do the same immediately.

“Good to see you. I hope you’re doing fine.” Hokutosent a small smile your way, which was his own way to show he was overjoyed atthe thought he finally got to see you after one long month apart. You noddedenergetically, making Makoto chuckle. The glasses boy’s cheeks were gettingmore than a little pink…

“I-I’ve been looking forward to today, you know”, heeventually managed to stammer out. Your smile immediately eased his stress,althought he got a bit redder too.

“Me too !” you answered. “I thought summer holidays would be restful,but… it’s kind of sad without you all.” Makoto nodded, while Hokuto lookedabsorbed in his contemplation of one of the store’s windows. He was hiding afaint smile, though…

“I never thought I would say that, but I did miss theidiots a bit—Oh.” You were about to turn around, curious to see what could havecaused Hokuto to stop talking immediately, but a pair of hands obscured yoursight.

“Guess who~ !” His chest was pressed close to yourback, and you could feel how loud his heartbeat was.

“Subaru !” You broke into a huge smile when he laughedbrightly, removing his hands and hugging you tightly.

“The one and only ! Did you miss me~ ? I’d feel prettydown if you say no, so just lie, okay ?” His blue eyes were bright andtwinkling, as usual, and the mere sight of them made you all jittery. Youreally, really missed them all…

“Ah, Subaru, not fair ! Don’t hog them all to yourself! Seriously, he just came in and he’s already acting like he owns the place,that’s exactly why we didn’t miss you !” Makoto looked happy to see his friend though, high-fiving him while Hokuto just shook his head.

“Idiot Duo, you’ll have more than enough time to catchup later. Don’t just ignore Adonis and Souma, say hello.” Huh ? When did theyeven get there ? You turned around and greeted the two boys with a smile. Adonisfaintly answered, and Souma nodded.

“Do not worry, Hokuto-dono, for we only just arrived.It is a pleasure to see you all.” Souma even bowed, and Subaru gave you a little wink.

“I found those two on my way, so we decided to walkthere together”, he explained happily. Makoto looked more than a bit curiousthough, head tilted to the side.

“Were you together, Adonis, Souma ? Did you perhapsmake plans without us ?! Aaah, how unfair ! I want to go out with my friendstoo !” Adonis, not getting the joke, merely shook his head in response.

“It’s not that. Souma and I have been spending a fewdays together. He showed me a lot of very beautiful places. I am thankful.”Wow, that sure sounded great. You kind of wanted Souma to show you around too !

“Oh, by the way, has anyone seen Natsume-kun ? We can’treally keep moving without him, right ?” Makoto asked, looking a bit confused.

“Is he even coming today ? He never answered my calls.”Hokuto sure didn’t look like he cared.

“I sent him looots of texts, so I think he knows !” Theboys kept chattering, exchanging suppositions and trying to agree on what todo. You barely listened to them, lost in your own thoughts. It didn’t seem likeNatsume to never answer and just ignore an invitation… but then again, it didseem like him to forget to check his phone… Wait, that boy, over there… ?

“Ah, he’s here ! Natsume-kuuun !” Subaru waved at himenthusiastically. Natsume barely even waved back, but did grin to you briefly.He was sipping on iced coffee and didn’t look like he’d hurried there at all.

“Hey, Sakasaki. You’re late. Didn’t you know about thetime of the meet-up ?” Hokuto asked, looking coldly at the newly-arrived boy,who just snickered in response.

“Time is only a social construct, Hidaka.” Well, hesaid that but his dark circles were cleverly hidden by a pair of sunglasses.

“Yeah, so basically he’s trying to say that he sleptin.” Subaru and you laughed at Makoto’s joke, who seemed more than pleased atthe attention. Even Adonis broke into a small smile, but Hokuto just sighed,shaking his head.

“Well, whatever. Let’s just move on, now that everyone’shere.” Hokuto, faithful to his position as the class’s representative, was nowattentively studying a list he seemed to have taken out of his backpack. Did he…prepare a schedule for the day ?

“Hokuto-dono, if I may… What are we to do today ?”Hokuto just blinked at Souma’s question, visibly unsure of the answer.

“Well… I was thinking something relaxing buteducational would be good. We could go to a museum or visit a shrine, if youwould like.” Subaru loudly whined, dejectedly shaking his head.

“Eeeeh… A museum… This isn’t fun at all, Hokke ! Can’twe just go play somewhere~ ?”

“Subaru-kun might be right, even though it’s the firsttime in his life ! I’d prefer to have fun too, but well, I’m not picky either !”Makoto seemed to be uneasy at the thought of siding with either of his friends,which made you laugh quietly. It’s just like him…

“I will follow you. I don’t mind either way.” Thanks,Adonis, that was helpful… You turned your head towards Souma, curious as towhat his opinion was, and he just so happened to be looking at you. Hehurriedly looked down, cheeks slightly tinted pink.

“I-I do not mind either. I do think the temple wouldbe refreshing, but I do not know what youngsters these days do for fun…” Helooked so flustered ! You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Natsume justsnickered, still sipping on his coffee.

“Your leader skills are strong, Hokke-kun. Why don’twe just go and play ? You can visit shrines by yourself if you want.” Natsume’swords didn’t seem to make Hokuto happy, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, hestepped closer to you. For just a split second you thought his face looked a bit gentler, as he sent you an inquisitivegaze.

“What about you ? What do you want to do ?” Of course,everyone turned your way with expectant faces, waiting for your answer to getgoing. Not wanting to offend anyone, you hesitantly replied.

“Well, since most of us seem to want to do somethingfun, um… Maybe the arcade sounds good ? What do you think ?” They kept quietfor a moment, but ultimately everyone nodded and you silently let out arelieved sigh.

“I knew you’d understand~ Summer’s for fun stuff,right ?”

“Little kitten, you have good tastes, after all.”

“I do not know much about this ‘arcade’ place, but please teach me about it !” Seems like everyone was more or less pleased with your choice, and thatincluded Hokuto, who smiled softly at you.

“Well, if it’s what you want… then okay. Let’s headthere, you guys.” A chorus of enthusiastic exclamations echoed as his answer.

The room of the game center Makoto picked was dark,but pretty big, and the music was just a bit too loud for you to hear hisexplanations properly.

“… and then this button here is for reloading. Simple,right ? Really, aside from shooting, there’s not much to do in this game, but it’sfun to play with friends !” You nodded confusedly, trying to recap it allin your head. He said it was simple, but the controls seemed ridiculouslycomplex for an arcade game… Makoto visibly caught on your confusion, as helaughed and hesitantly patted your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, it’s simple once you get the hang of it! Wanna play against me ?” Against ? You thought it was a co-op game ! But helooked so happy at the thought of showing you his favorite game…

“Um, yeah, sure ! But go easy on me, okay ? I’m just abeginner !” He smiled widely, inserting credits into the machine.

“Sure, don’t worry ! I won’t be too hard on you~”Before you even had time to answer, the game was starting, and you were doingyour best to remember all the controls. Aiming proved a bit trickier than youthought, but you were doing a pretty good job at killing all those zombies !Just as you were about to brag and tease Makoto, you noticed his score wasthree times as high as yours.

“How do you do that ?! I’m going as fast as humanlypossible, and you’re still better ?” He laughed at your comment, but didn’t avert his eyes fromhis screen.

“I have years of practice under my belt, you know ?Just let me have a chance to show you my cool side !” Cool side or not, youdidn’t intend to lose to him ! You were getting more and more into it, andyelped when someone suddenly glomped you.

“Aah, be careful, the boss is about to come out !Here, lemme help !” Subaru’s hands joined yours around the gun’s handle,his fingers expertly pressing the buttons. And his aim was much better than yours too…but it was really hard to focus on the game when he was practically hugging youfrom behind… You hoped neither he or Makoto would notice you were blushing abit, but fortunately, they were too into the game to even look at you beforeit was over.

“Subaru, you lying cheat ! You promised you wouldn’tinterfere ! You’re the worst wingman ever !” Subaru just laughed brightly inresponse, handing you the gun back.

“I couldn’t help it, their score was just so bad, it’salmost like it was calling me to the rescue~” You puffed out your cheeks. Andhere you thought you did pretty good !

“Hey, it was my first time ! Don’t be too hard on me !”Fortunately, Hokuto came to your rescue, alarmed when he heard just how muchnoise the three of you were making.

“The Idiot Duo’s not bullying you, are they ?” heasked, looking genuinely worried about you.

“Please forgive us, Hokuto-sama, we didn’t know youwere their knight in shining armor today !”

“Yes, we’ve been fools, Hokuto-sama… !” Subaru andMakoto were now prostrated on the floor, prompting you to giggle. Hokuto justsighed, before gently taking your arm and taking you away.

“Do you want to stay with me ? I’m trying to figureout how the games work. That, and trying to hide from Sakasa—”

“Oh, you’re here, Hokke-kun. Still afraid to take up achallenge, I see. Well, should I make it into a victory by forfeit for me ?” Natsumeliterally came out from nowhere, a teasing smile on his lips. You didn’t reallyknow what that was all about, but you suspected Natsume was having a lot of funteasing Hokuto.

“What happened ? Oh, did Natsume challenge you to agame ?! No way, you should just give up, Hokke !” Subaru and Makoto had joinedyou, much to Hokuto’s annoyance.

“Hey, Subaru ! It’s not Hokke but ‘Hokuto-sama’, didyou forget already ? Jeez, this kid can’t do running gags at all…” Makoto’sjoke made you smile again, and he looked pretty pleased at that.

“Oh, isn’t it the ‘Idiot Duo’. Good timing. I’m prettybored, so I asked Hokke-kun to face me off in a game, but he’s been avoiding meever since.” Natsume’s grin was positively cat-like.

“Hey, Hokke, you should have told us ! We’d haverooted for you ! What game is it ?” Subaru asked enthusiastically. Hokuto justsighed in response, visibly troubled.

“It’s this one… um, Dance Dance Revolution, was it ? I don’tknow much about this sort of things, so of course I’d lose.” Makoto gaspedloudly at Hokuto’s words.

“Don’t say that, Hokuto ! Aren’t you a natural atdancing ? You should give it a try !” You even found yourself nodding at the glassesboy’s words, and Hokuto seemed to hesitate a bit when he noticed it.

Natsume didn’t miss even a second of it, and keptgoing relentlessly. “Then, if you want it to be more exciting, shall we putsomething at stake ? Let’s say there’s a prize to be won… and it’s littlekitten.” You just blinked. Was he implying…

“I’m not a prize !” He completely ignored yourinterruption, but his eyes had lightened up and you could clearly see he washaving a lot of fun.

“Since the prize is already decided, let’s just saythe winner gets to ki—”

“I’ll do it.” Hokuto was already stepping towards thearcade game, much to Natsume’s delight. You were left staring at them inconfusion, while Subaru and Makoto were getting fired up.

“A fated battle between men, to protect their prideand their love ! How moving !” Makoto even got a tissue out to wipe his eyes,just for the sake of his joke. That boy goes too far sometimes.

“I’ll call this ‘Encouter of Fate ! Newbie Grandpaversus Sadistic Creep’ !” While they were getting excited together, you idlylooked over the other games. Hokuto and Natsume looked very intent on havingthis little showdown, and you were looking for an excuse to mysteriously disappear.You didn’t doubt Natsume would win, and you didn’t intend to give up to him soeasily.

Your salvation came in the form of very disoriented Soumaand Adonis, who were hesitantly trying games. When Souma met your gaze, hisface visibly relaxed.

“Ah, we were looking for you. Adonisu-dono and Iwanted to try…” You didn’t catch the end of the sentence, as the music was abit too loud and Souma a bit too quiet.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that ! What do you want to try? Maybe I can show you how it works !” Souma looked a bit embarrassed, but hedid step closer to you.

“We would like to try… the, um, the ‘purikura’, was it…?” Those photobooths ? Well, it was a bit surprising but who were you to judge?

“Oh, okay ! Can I try it with you too ?” Keeping asouvenir of today didn’t seem like a bad idea, and besides you wanted to be somewhere hidden when Natsume would start looking for you. Adonis shyly smiled at you.

“Of course. I want to make a lot of memories with myfriends.” And with that, the three of you were inside the booth, trying out thedifferent options. Adonis and Souma were curious about everything and seemed tobe having a lot of fun. You were completely forgetting about the others whenthe curtain suddenly opened, revealing a peering-face with bright blue eyes andorange hair.

“Aaah, you’re taking pictures without me !! How couldyou ! Make some room for me, Zaki-kun !”

“Subaru, you’re going to ruin the pho—” Too late. Youdidn’t have time to finish your sentence before Subaru’s photobomb wasdisplayed on the screen. You could only see his face and half of Adonis’nervous smile on the picture. Subaru’s face wasn’t even blurry, and hisecstatic wide smile was displayed in glorious HD.

“Save this picture ?” asked the automated voice, buteveryone kept silent. You exchanged a glance with Souma, then Adonis, andeventually everyone broke into laughter, including the photobombing culprithimself. Only once were you all calmed down did Adonis press the ‘Yes’ button.

“I like this picture”, he explained, shooting you asmall smile. You nodded. It was… very like Subaru. You were sure you were goingto keep it, actually. The curtain opened again, Makoto peeking insidethe booth. Two more pairs of legs were standing behind him, and you supposedNatsume and Hokuto were done with their little duel.

“Ooh, you’re taking photos ! Can we join ? Of course,we can also wait a bit !” he exclaimed loudly. Natsume just groaned, and you couldn’trestrain a smile at the sound.

“I’m not interested in pictures.” Makoto’s facemomentarily disappeared from the booth, as he turned it towards Natsume.

“Oh, come on ! Just a few souvenirs !” But Subaru wouldn’thave it and dragged Makoto inside, making him stumble on Adonis’ legs (whichwere taking most of the room inside the booth). Before Natsume could protest,Hokuto pushed him inside as well, and while the first few pictures were… challenging,to say the least, everyone ended up loosening up and relaxing. And the picturescame out nicely, too !

“Well, now that that’s taken care of, should we go andhave a bite somewhere ?” Hokuto suggested, looking at his watch.

“It’s already this late, huh ? Time flies when you’rehaving fun !” Makoto chirped, and Subaru vigorously nodded.

“As long as I can eat meat, I’m fine with anything.”Adonis’ meek voice was barely even audible in the noisy atmosphere of the gamecenter, but your smile in response made him break out into a shy attempt at a smileof his own.

“Then, let’s go and have fast-food ! Yahoo, I’m theone who gets to choose~” And with those words, Subaru dashed outside, causingNatsume to snicker.

“They do say fools are the happiest.”

“Oi, Akehoshi… Too late”, Hokuto sighed, massaging histemples. You gently patted his back, and he smiled faintly your way. His eyeswere so gentle whenever he was looking at you… “What do you want to eat ?” he quietly asked, so quietly you could barely hearhim.

“I’m fine with anything, really.” You smiled too, andhe looked deeply relieved.

“Then let’s just catch up with this idiot. He mightget lost, after all.”

Eating with everyone was definitely an experience.Souma was new to fast-food, but didn’t seem to dislike it. Natsume stole foodfrom the others whenever they were not looking, and Makoto seemed veryself-conscious at the thought he would be eating right in front of you. Subarudidn’t lack material for his jokes, his target of choice frequently alternating between Hokuto, whoinsisted to examine what was inside his food methodically before eating it, andAdonis, who ate easily twice as much as the others. You were pretty nervous atthe thought you might end up getting sauce everywhere but fortunately, you didn’tmess up. There must be a god, after all…

After that, everyone headed to karaoke. With Hokutoaround, it felt a bit more like a singing lesson to be honest, but Makoto andSubaru were experts at relaxing the mood. Souma didn’t know about karaoke andseemed to enjoy himself a lot ! Natsume just tried to disrupt everyone’sconcentration. You thought you’d be a bit awkward at the thought of having tosing with everyone, but it went really well ! Time flied, and before you knewit everyone was already saying their goodbyes.

“Thank you for teaching me so much. I will be forevergrateful to you all. Next time, please feel free to come at the Kanzaki familyestate. I shall show you many beautiful places and dishes.” Souma bowed deeply,prompting a little laugh out of you.

“No need for that, Souma ! I’m glad you had fun. Seeyou soon !” You waved, and there he went, soon followed by Adonis.

“Thanks for today. It was fun. Don’t forget to havedinner.” He left immediately after his elliptic goodbyes, apparently on thephone with one of his older sisters. From what you gathered, they were gettinghungry and were waiting for him. Oh well, you’d see him soon at school, afterall.

“Oh, it’s this late ?” Makoto winced when he noticedthe time, then shot you all an apologetic smile. “Sorry everyone, gotta hurryhome ! See you guys !”

“Aah, wait for me, Glasses ! Well then, see yaeveryone !” Subaru left running after Makoto, but not after giving you a littlewink. You waved at him, smiling happily, until you suddenly noticed you wereleft alone with Hokuto and Natsume. And here you’d forgotten about their littleduel and Natsume’s reward… You could practically feel Natsume’s grin as heslowly creeped up from behind you.

“Does that mean I can finally get my prize, little kitten? I’ve been ready since this morning.” Oh no he’s not. Your mind was reeling,trying to think of a witty comeback, but you didn’t need one in the end. Hokutostepped up, eyes shooting daggers at Natsume.

“I don’t think they really like that joke. I’ll bewalking them home. Goodbye, Sakasaki.” He dragged you away without any furtherexplanation, and you just followed him confusedly, before turning around towave at Natsume. You didn’t want him to be angry at you or anything, andfortunately it didn’t seem like he took it badly. He just waved back, a small, mysterious smile on his lips.

You were deep in your thoughts and didn’t notice whenHokuto suddenly stopped walking, a few minutes later. You just crashed into hisback, and as you were about to ask him if everything was alright, he turned toyou. His face looked a bit grim, and he was just as deep in thoughts as youwere.

“Sorry. Are you okay ?” You nodded, much tohis relief. “Good. I just… I’m sorry for this whole thing with Sakasaki. It waschildish, and certainly not very fun for you.” He sighed, albeit more deeplythan usual.

“No, don’t worry about that ! I didn’t mind, really.Well, to Natsume it’s just a game after all, right ?” You smiled, trying torelax the atmosphere, but Hokuto didn’t smile back. He was attentively studyingyour face, and eventually turned his eyes away.

“A game, huh. So that’s how you see it.” He kept quietfor a moment, then started walking again, with you following him as fast as youcould. His legs were much bigger than yours, after all… When he suddenly spokeagain, you weren’t expecting it and were a bit startled.

“You know, you won’t have to worry about Sakasakidoing anything to you. I… well, I’m the one who won.” Oh ? That was unexpected.You wanted to congratulate him, but he looked so serious that your words justdied in your throat. And when he shyly took your hand in his, you completelyforgot about them.

“Would you hate it if… if we walk home like that ?”You just shook your head in response, worried your voice would betray you if you talked. Heseemed relieved and squeezed your fingers just a bit tighter.

“Then, this will be my reward.”

#ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars imagine #enstars imagine #scenario #2A #hokuto hidaka #subaru akehoshi #adonis otogari #makoto yuuki #souma kanzaki #natsume sakasaki #mod mademoiselle

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thepatricktreestump · 7 years

Text

Pinky Promise: a Josh Dun fanfic

Y/N: Okay this might not be factually accurate but again, it’s called (fan)fiction for a reason. But I did have a little fun with the formatting and structure of this one so I hope you like it!!! super fluffy stuff!

emute28 said: Could you do Josh x reader when they were friends when they were little kids and Josh had crush on reader.Josh star touring and some how forgot about reader and they met like after 10 years?:) By the way you are amazing writer :)

*gender neutral, warning: fluff overload lol jk

KINDERGARTEN

“Three, two, one. Ready or not, here I come!” Josh’s voice echoed throughout the house. You giggled, trying to stifle your laughter as you crouched down even lower into the laundry basket, the weight of a sweatshirt draped over your head drooping ever so slightly as to block your vision. It was uncomfortable, but by far, probably one of the best hiding places you’ve picked. Spending time with Josh was one of your favorite past times. Every single day after kindergarten, you’d ride home with Josh and his mom and spend time with him coloring with crayons, eating milk and cookies, or in this case, challenging each other at a game of hide and seek. It wasn’t long before he was shouting your name desperately, sure he had lost you for good. “Y/n! I give up! Please come back!”

“Fine!” your small voice shouted out. You poked your head out of the laundry basket just in time to see him race into the room, panting for breath, desperate expression fading away and replaced by a hopeful one.

“Thank goodness!” he sighed, running over to you and picking you up out of the laundry basket, giggling. “I thought I lost you for good, y/n.”

“Nah,” you shook your head with a smile. “I’m just really good at hiding.”

“Don’t be too good,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d be really lonely without you.”

“I won’t leave you,” you rolled your eyes, picking the sweatshirt up off of your head and tossing it back into the laundry basket. “We’re best friends forever, remember?”

“Pinky promise?” he raised his eyebrows, reaching out his hand and sticking out his pinky.

“Pinky promise,” you grinned, linking his with yours and giving it a good shake. Your kindergarten teacher had taught your class a couple days ago that pinky promises were the most powerful promises there were. Ever since, you and Josh had sealed every deal with a pinky promise. It was like your own little personal handshake.

THIRD GRADE

Everyone was supposed to stay in their seats. Your teacher had specifically told you that you’re not allowed to leave your table. You were all instructed to cut out hearts from the red, pink, and white construction paper, pick up a chocolate and tuck it in between the paper, and write who it was for and who it was from in pretty perfect cursive on the front with a silver marker. So you were probably on your fifth valentine when your best friend Josh came walking over to your table, sitting down beside you with a pink valentine in his lap. “Josh,” you hissed, staring at him. “What are you doing? You’re going to get in trouble! Go back to your seat!”

“I have to give you something,” he mumbled, fidgeting with the piece of paper between his fingers. His brown eyes started up into yours and you forgot about the possibility of getting in trouble for a split second. You looked down at the valentine in his hands and then flickered your eyes back up to his, letting out a soft laugh.

“We’re not allowed to hand them out until tomorrow,” you reminded. “Remember? When Valentine’s Day actually is?”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking around nervously. “I just um, it couldn’t wait.”

“Really?” you looked at him, confused.

“I kind of wanted to tell you a while ago,” he shrugged. “I thought maybe right now would be a good time.”

“Okay,” you decided, watching as he handed you the pink heart and you unfolded it carefully. There, written in his usual all capital letters rather than the loopy fancy cursive, was his words. (Dear y/n, I really like you. I was hoping maybe you liked me too? It’s okay if we stay friends though. I just thought you should know. Xoxo, Josh.) Noticing he had picked out your favorite chocolate from the selection and tucked three pieces in between the pink paper, you smiled before looking up at him again, noticing how scared he was. He was fiddling his thumbs, biting his lower lip, eyes darting around the room anxiously.

“So, um, uh…” he stuttered out, not even able to string together a sentence of words.

“Hey,” you put a hand on his shoulder. “I like you too.”

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re my best friend forever. Remember?”

“Oh,” his face fell. Why did he look so sad? He was your favorite friend. You had just told him this, too. “Yeah. We are.”

“What? Do you think I’m lying?” you tilted your head to the side, frowning. “I really do like you.”

“Pinky promise?” he whispered, eyes still full of uncertainty.

“Pinky promise,” you reassured, hooking his pinky with yours.

“Thank you,” he laughed.

“No problem,” you grinned, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, which surprised him completely. “Now get back to your seat before you get in trouble, silly.”

“Yeah,” he blushed, trying to hide a smile before rushing over back to his seat. Little did you know, it was Josh’s best day of his life yet.

SIXTH GRADE

As soon as the poster for the middle school Winter Wonderland dance was put up, your heart fluttered in your chest. Who the heck was going to take you? You barely even had any friends at your new middle school, and sure, you talked to your best friend Josh still, but mainly because he was just in your neighborhood. You had sort of forgotten about each other ever since middle school started, and grew distant, especially since you went to different schools. So a day before the school dance, absolutely desperate for a date, you nervously walked over to his house, poster clutched in hand. Right as soon as you were about to knock on the door, to your surprise, the door swung open and you backed away, startled. “Oh,” Josh’s eyes went wide, realizing you were right there. The two of you burst into giggles, then he opened the door even wider, his eyes darting to the paper held in your hand as your eyes realized he was holding a paper in his. “Uh, I was just about to head over to your house actually.”

“That’s funny,” you gave a small laugh. “Looks like I beat you to it.”

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly. He looked nervous, the same unsure eyes, lower lip bite, fiddling thumbs, anxious expression on his face. You had known Josh for years, and by now, knew very well he had horrible anxiety. You put a hand on his shoulder, something you’d learned that sort of helped him breathe a little better.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“Uh, you can um, come inside,” he decided, ushering you in and letting you sit on the couch. When you got there, he sat next to you, taking a deep breath before unfolding the piece of paper in his hand and showing you. “So there’s this dance tomorrow and I know I’m sort of asking last minute, but everyone in the grade is going and I don’t really have a date and uh, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me maybe?”

“That’s what I was going to ask,” you chuckled, showing him your poster. “Looks like both of our dances are on the same day.”

“Well uh, maybe we don’t have to go to a dance at all,” he shrugged. “Maybe we can just get some milk and Oreos, come to my house, watch a movie?”

“That sounds a lot better than a school dance,” you admitted. “I don’t really care for social situations. Or dancing. Or people.”

“Me either,” he agreed.

“It’s a plan,” you grinned.

“Pinky promise?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?” you wondered. “Oh gosh, I almost forgot about that.”

“How could you forget?” he chuckled.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out I guess.”

“Yeah,” he frowned. “So let’s make up for lost time tomorrow night then?”

“Definitely,” you smiled, hooking your pinky with his. “Pinky promise.”

HIGH SCHOOL Research papers, finals week, the end of the semester, standardized testing, all of it was getting to you. It was four in the morning and you had gone three days now without sleep, your bloodshot eyes staring at a computer screen for who knows how many hours now, the seventh empty cup of coffee sitting beside you, an empty bottle of caffeine pills rolling off the bed, and you just about to lose your mind. If this is how high school was, you couldn’t imagine college. So you brushed off the mess of papers and pencils from off your lap and walked outside, deciding to clear your head on a long walk. You started down your sidewalk, when all of a sudden, you felt something hit you in the back of your head. You did a double take, looking behind you, but finding nothing. Hell, as sleep deprived as you were, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were hallucinating or making things up. You began to walk down the sidewalk again when you felt something hit your back, and you looked behind you to hear a voice whisper your name from… above? Yeah, you must definitely be going insane. But you heard it again. “Y/n! Up here!” You turned around and looked up, blinking twice when you saw Josh outside of his open window, waving at you. “Don’t make me have to throw another eraser at you.”

“Is that what those were?” you scowled, looking at the ground and realizing that indeed, that’s what had caught your attention.

“Come here,” he beckoned. “I’m dying of boredom and I haven’t seen you since sixth grade.”

“Fine,” you complied with a smile.

“I’ll open up the back door,” he decided. You walked over to the backyard of his house and watched as he was waiting at the door, opening it up and ushering you inside, letting you up in his bedroom. When he finally closed the door and you sat beside him on his bed.

“Woah,” you laughed, looking at him.

“What?” he raised an eyebrow.

“You got gages,” you smiled. “And a nose ring.”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “Yeah. Pretty sick, huh?”

“I think it’s cool,” you nodded. “It’s been a while. What are you up to?”

“Studying,” he groaned, showing you the plethora of textbooks and notebooks that scattered his floor. “Judging by the dark rings around your eyes I’m guessing you’ve been doing the same?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Geez, I haven’t talked to you in forever.”

“I know,” he frowned. “I miss you. A lot.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “Hell, before we know it, we’ll both be in college.”

“That’s a scary thought,” his eyes grew wide. “It feels like just yesterday we were playing hide and seek in kindergarten.”

“I remember those days,” you chuckled. There were a couple seconds of silence before you decided to speak up again. “Hey, are we still going to be best friends after high school? I mean, we don’t talk anymore, and I know we’ve kind of grew distant but-”

“Y/n,” Josh laughed. “Are you crazy? Come on, we’re best friends forever. Remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “Want to pinky promise?”

“Sure,” he giggled, hooking his pinky with yours and giving it a shake before meeting his gaze with yours. “But uh, I think maybe we’re getting a little old for pinky promises.”

“What do you mean?” you wondered, confused.

“I think we should come up with a different way of sealing promises,” he shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe, uh, a little of this?”

“A little of wha- oh woah!” you began to ask when he leaned in to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours and when he pulled away, you were both bright red, wide eyes, staring at each other. “Woah.”

“I really like you,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you gave a nervous smile. “But uh, I think I need to um, get back to studying. I have a research paper due tomorrow and some tests and I just…”

“It’s okay,” he nodded, turning sort of shy, not sure how to react. “Um, good luck.”

“Yeah,” you took a deep breath. “You too.”

Leaving the room, and then the house, walking down the sidewalk, you weren’t sure how to feel. Maybe you overreacted, maybe you should go back and apologize, maybe you should’ve at least kissed him back. It wasn’t like you didn’t like it, fuck, you loved it. You wanted more, but you couldn’t. Josh was your best friend forever, your pinky promise, your childhood crush. It would never escalate to anything more than that, right? You shook those thoughts out of your head, thinking maybe he just wasn’t thinking right, maybe this was just another crazy hallucination, maybe this was just even a dream, or just the sleep deprivation getting to you. Either way, you decided to go home, give up on homework, take a nap, and let all that happened fade away. That was the last time you talked to Josh since graduating college.

AFTER COLLEGE

Not to over exaggerate or anything, but your job actually sucked. After working your ass off in high school, getting a handful of years at college, and earning a degree, you were still stuck in your hometown working at a cheap coffee place making just a little more than minimum wage. You wished you could find a better job, or at least move out, but that costed who knows how much money, and you were still in student debt. It was a slow day, and you grew tired of staring at the empty atmosphere of the hotel, so you decided to get out from behind the counter and take a seat. You snatched a newspaper off the rack, made yourself a cup of coffee, and then sat down, flinging open the newspaper and starting to read. It was just the usual stories. Someone attempted to rob a nearby bank, a local bakery was closing down, there was a house fire a couple miles away, nothing much. You flipped the page, not really sure what to expect, but what you found absolutely blew you away. There he was, on a picture probably bigger than your thumb, memorable shining smile and those adorable squinty eyes, in your town newspaper. You read the headline: “Twenty One Pilots #1 on Top Charts.” Your eyes widened, staring more closely at the newspaper and doing a double take. Sure he looked different, but it was still him.

“Twenty One Pilots, consisting of band members Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun, a musical duo from Columbus, Ohio place number one on the Billboard Top Charts this week,” you read aloud. “Their hit single Stressed Out has soared to the top of the charts and instantly become a worldwide favorite. With their eerie melody, unique lyrics, and strange vibe, the duo’s new album Blurryface has also skyrocketed up the charts, giving them a newfound recognition and reputation within the music industry. With Joseph’s profound delivery of lyrics and Dun’s steady beat on the drums, combined, they create an absolutely irresistible record that will be sure to get you singing along.”

“What are you mumbling about?” one of your coworkers snapped. “You look like you just found the cure for cancer or something.”

“No, no,” you laughed. “Uh, one of my childhood friends, he’s in this band.”

“Twenty One Pilots?” they raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you’re just now hearing about this. They’ve been playing nonstop on the radio for the past couple weeks.”

“I don’t listen to the radio,” you narrowed your eyes.

“They’re on tour right now,” they explained. “If I’m right, they’re coming here in about a week I think. They’re sold out.”

“Shit,” you frowned. “I was hoping to talk to him.”

“Well if you’re friends like you say, just hit him up,” they shrugged. “I’m sure he’d be able to get you in. Which one is he? Tyler or Josh?”

“Josh,” you explained. “We went to elementary school together.”

“Wow, must’ve been a real long time then,” they raised their eyebrows.

“Not really,” you shrugged. “We still talked in high school a little bit.”

“Ah, I see,” they nodded their head slowly. “Well I wish you luck and all, but there’s some stuff that’s got to be done around here. No time for coffee breaks just yet. Just because we don’t have customers doesn’t mean we don’t have cleaning to do.”

“Right,” you sighed. “Just give me a minute, I want to finish this article. Cool?”

“Sure thing,” they decided.

The next couple days, your mind was spinning. You had looked up all you could about this band. In fact, you couldn’t even believe it was real. Although you had sort of forgotten about Josh in college, you hadn’t forgotten about your entire childhood with him. You remembered all the hide and seek games during kindergarten, the constant flirting in grade school, skipping out on the dance and cuddling with a movie in middle school, and even your awkward kiss in high school. You quickly learned about how famous they had become, listened to some of the music, which was actually extremely amazing, and watched a couple interviews. Some things about him had changed. He wasn’t as nervous as he used to be, he had dyed his hair different colors, he had lost the nose ring, and he was definitely more confident and looked happier. But some things about him never changed, such as his sunshine smile, the way his eyes crinkled up when he got happy, his little laugh, the way he stared into space when he was trying to think, the lower lip biting, the small things that made you fall in love with him. Hell, he hadn’t even told you he loved you, and you hadn’t done the same. He probably actually hated you, especially after everything that happened, how you ran away after he kissed you, how you ignored him after all those years, how it was like you just flushed every single pinky promise down the drain.

So you told yourself to forget about him. Even when you heard one of the songs play in the coffee shop, even when his face showed up on the front page of the newspaper, even when you saw a customer come in wearing one of his band’s t-shirts, you told yourself to forget. You forced yourself too. Your insecurities and doubt ate you up, convincing you that he didn’t want to talk to you, that he probably forgot about you a long time ago, how those stupid pinky promises were just figments of your imagination. You prepared yourself for the worst. You thought he’d never talk to you again. You thought he’d forgotten about you. You thought he was officially out of your life. And when you expected it the least, that’s when everything got flipped upside down.

YESTERDAY

As soon as he walked into the coffee shop, you wanted to disappear. Shrink, hide, just plain teleport out of there, anything to keep him from seeing you. It had been so long, and it had ended on such an awkward note, you felt like it would just be extremely strange to talk to him again. Much less, he was famous now. Hell, he probably met so many other people and went so many different places he wouldn’t even remember you. Wasn’t he dating Debby Ryan anyways? Oh right, you weren’t supposed to know that, you just happened to accidentally discover that when you were high key stalking him online. Ugh, sometimes you hated yourself. You were almost about to make a bee line to the drive thru line when your coworker pushed you towards the cash register. “This one’s yours,” they hinted.

“Fine,” you glared at them, turning around and not ready for when you came face to face with him, the only thing separating you being the counter. You swallowed nervously, looking around before meeting his eyes with yours. Ha, and he was supposed to be the one with anxiety. “Welcome to the café. What would you like to order?”

His colorful dyed hair, those dark cocoa brown eyes, the way he wore a backwards snapback, the X-Files tank top, his gages, even the way his lips tugged up at the side and he tilted his head, it made your stomach fill with butterflies. You couldn’t lie, you missed him. He had changed, but he was still Josh. “You don’t remember me?” he frowned, eyes as if they were trying to search for something in yours. “Come on, y/n.”

“It’s been a while,” you sighed.

“It always is,” he rolled his eyes. “These days, anyways.”

“Look at you,” you pointed out. “You’re basically a celebrity now.”

“Me?” he laughed. “Nah, I’m just another dude from Ohio.”

“Sure,” you gave a small smile. “So what would you like to order?”

“I’ll take a black coffee,” he shrugged. “Something simple, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“But more importantly,” he cleared his throat. “I was wondering if maybe I could have dinner with you.”

“With me?” you raised an eyebrow. “Hell, why would you ever want that?”

“Y/n,” he narrowed his eyes. “I’d love that. It’s been so long.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I don’t know. You could literally have dinner with anyone in the entire world you wanted. You’re famous now,” you explained. “Why me?”

“You make it seem like I’m not even human anymore,” he rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’d love to catch up. Isn’t that our thing now? Not talk to each other for a million years and then all of a sudden pick up where we left off?”

“Pick up where we left off?” you repeated. “I believe that was a kiss.”

“Yeah,” he smirked. “It was.”

“You really want to pick up there?” you laughed.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he winked. “No, but really y/n. We should talk.”

“I missed you,” you admitted.

“I always miss you,” he told you. “You’re my best friend forever, remember?”

“How could I forget?” you chuckled. “But hey, how’d Tyler feel about that? It looks like he’s been your replacement best friend lately.”

“You were there before Tyler,” he whispered playfully. “And he’s my best friend. You’re my forever. Don’t forget that.” You both shared a moment of laughter for a second.

“So later, um, is that a dinner or…” your voice trailed off.

“Date?” he finished.

“I’m good either way,” you shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date though.”

“We never really dated before, have we?” he wondered.

“No,” you shook your head. “We haven’t actually.”

“I think we should give it a shot,” he grinned. “You?”

“I’m up for that,” you agreed. “Later this afternoon work for you?”

“That’s perfect,” he replied. “I’ll see you then.”

“Pinky promise?” you asked, smile curling up on your lips as you reached out your pinky to meet his.

“Pinky promise,” he burst out laughing. “Always and forever.”

TODAY

When you woke up, there were warm arms wrapped around you. The ghost of his lips pressed against your neck, the whisper of his words lingering in your mind, his dark eyes envisioned in your mind as you close yours. You fluttered opened your eyelids and yawned, turning around to face him. He smiled and you frowned. “You’ve been up this entire time?” you scowled.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “You’re cute when you snore.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. “Don’t you have a show tonight?”

“Tonight,” he reminded. “I still have the entire morning to spend with you.”

“Won’t Tyler be wondering where you disappeared to?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, he doesn’t need to know,” he reassured. “It’s just you and me right now, y/n.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “For last night.”

“Anytime,” he smiled. “You know I’m always up for a tub of ice cream, a Disney movie, and a deep conversation.”

“Don’t forget cuddling,” you reminded.

“I never forget cuddling,” he sighed. “Who do you think I am?”

“Hey Josh?” you barely whispered. “Can I tell you something crazy?”

“Well knowing that you’re a crazy person, I assume everything you say is crazy,” he teased.

“Hey!” you giggled, playfully shoving him away. He captured you in his arms, pulling you closer towards him and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, you can tell me anything,” he reassured.

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and then opened them, looking into his. There was something you read online once, something about how people’s eyes never change since the day they were born. That’s why babies’ eyes look so big, because their size doesn’t increase or decrease. The eyeball is the only organism that doesn’t grow from birth. It was something peculiar to think about, especially at then at all times and places, but you couldn’t help it. His eyes were something you had fallen in love with the first time you met them. You saw how big and full of concern they grew when he was worried, how they darted around the room when he was nervous, how they grew soft when he was sleepy, how dark and intense they could become when he was concentrated. But most importantly, you loved the way they became all squinty when he smiled. It meant he was happy, and more than anything, you wanted him to be happy. “I know this is long overdue,” you began. “But um…”

“Yeah?” he wondered, looking at you, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.

“I love you,” you told him. “I always have, Josh.”

“Really?” he asked. There was a pause. “Even when you ran away that night? The first time I kissed you? In high school?”

“Even then,” you nodded. “I guess, I don’t know. I was nervous and scared and didn’t know what to do. I was stupid.”

“Like I was in third grade,” he laughed.

“What?” you inquired.

“When I gave you that Valentine card and told you I liked you,” he recalled. “I was so terrified.”

“I remember that,” you chuckled.

“Hey y/n,” Josh cupped your cheek with his hand, gaze caught in yours. “I love you, too. Always have, always will.”

“Pinky promise?” you smirked.

“Pinky promise,” he grinned, both of you linking your pinkies together and giving it a good shake. He wrapped his arms around you and gave you a tight hug. “Listen, it doesn’t matter where I am, what I’m doing, or how much time has passed. You’ll always be my best friend forever, kiddo. And I’ll always love you.”

“I missed you so much,” you sighed, closing your eyes tight and getting lost in the embrace. “I promise I won’t run away this time. Think I’m here to stay.”

“Yeah?” he wondered.

“Definitely,” you answered. “I don’t think I would last another million years without talking.”

“Me either,” he admitted. “I think I’m going to keep you for good this time.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. When you pulled away, he let out a small laugh. “What’s that for?”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all,” he shrugged. “You’ve never really been one for a kiss on the lips.”

“Well you said it yourself, remember?” you smiled. “We outgrew pinky promises in high school.”

“We’ll never outgrow pinky promises,” he laughed his eyes. “You know that as well as I do.”

“I guess so,” you joked.

“So um, you said something crazy. My turn?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Sure,” you decided.

“Would it be okay if, I don’t know, we were more than best friends?” he wondered. “Forever?”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Joshua Dun?” you asked.

“It sounds absolutely insane, but we’ve known each other for a little while now, and I know this is only our first actual date, but I want to live my entire life with you, y/n,” he whispered. His voice grew even softer. “I think I want to marry you.”

“Only if you seal it with an official pinky promise,” you decided with a grin.

“Then I pinky promise,” he reassured. “I promise to love you forever and always.”

“Then how could I ever say no?” you smiled.

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