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stickynotestoletters · 3 years

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Yandere BNHA Boys pt 2

Okay, this is a continuation of the first yandere ones I did because I wrote that in basically a night and was too tired to do more, I'm probably gonna post some after for the pro heroes and villains if I have time, I might finish those on the weekend then post it.

This is just a bunch of headcanons I have about the boys in BNHA and what they’d be like as yanderes. Only the really fluffy or good things about them listed here. Neither of these works are a good depictions of a real yandere and make sure to be careful to identify yandere traits in real people around you. It’s a very dangerous world and stay safe!

sorry if you were waiting for me to come out with these and I literally took forever lol, link to the first one is here. It's basically just me comforting myself with the sweet things that I think they would do as yanderes.

Warnings: Brainwashing, blood, gore, death, trans headcanons, body dysmorphia, nonbinary they/he Sero, they/them pronouns + nonbinary headcanons for Tokoyami, he/they nonbinary headcanons with Shinsou, a little NSFW because if I don't specify then they are aged up (around 20-25 is where I imagine the timeline that they actually captured you and have a hero carrier going for them already), manipulation, regular yandere things, kinda just turns into dumbass horknee headcanons at some point after Shinsou (sorry lmfao), objectification

Sero Hanata

so basically the first time they saw you they immediately wanted to come up to you

they love to give you back hugs because once you stop trying to fight them he's gonna be so honored you finally trust him

Big time slut [non-derogetory] for you

Likes to have an apartment that's high up, probably a secured penthouse with lots of windows

If you're afraid of heights they will get a ground bed for you two, they would also vibe with a low hanging hammock if you allow it

they really really like just putting you on a custom made leash, not inherently in a sexual way just in general likes to have it look like that with their tape on you at all times

they really really like it when you come to them for hugs and comfort

If you're a trans reader, if you want a binder he will get you one as soon as you ask, cried when you told him about it.

they cried way more than you though...

Was very accepting as an nb person as well

they custom made you a tape binder of his

Kinda as a joke but high key felt like they were gonna combust at the thought of you wearing that for them

Takes you to pride but you cannot speak

only takes you to pride after they are 1000% sure that you're not gonna speak to anyone but them

Takes you to it as a part of their float because they'd been invited onto the Hero Float

You are in a costume that's exactly like his, helmet and everything, you aren't allowed to be looked at

After that though, it's gonna be your choice to go or not to go

they trust you a little more after you run away from some assholes though and after that sometimes lets you take your helmet off during pride, you have to give them a lot of kisses though

When/if you ever consider any type of surgery he is 110% on board

they demand that you have to have it performed by someone who has done this a million times before, trusts no one else

If there's a way for you to go through it without the surgery they're excited but he's more excited if there is surgery because they love the idea of you being so cuddly and clinging to them for their comfort

Tokoyami Fumikage

haha they're in love with you

like, intensely in love with you the moment they first meet you

Dark shadow thinks you're adorable but says nothing more about their obsession with you

when you met them before UA they absolutely cannot handle being around you in a 10-foot radius

Eventually, though they do try and become a friend of yours

After that, it's a hop on the manipulation train, my dude

they basically make you see them as your savior from a mean uncaring world

they love talking to you about things that make you happy and loving you in little ways

hugs, hand holding, a lot of time it's just a little peck (haha) on the cheek

they love living with you though, like really love it

they like baking and making dinner for you

but especially baking

like really, baking

the manipulation they use makes it seem like everything is okay when you only talk to them so that's what you do and to you, it seems so much better than anything you could do

they haven't come out to you by the time you come out to them so your trans journey really helps them figure things like that out as well

The first time you explain that gender is a made-up construct they're like "yeah......isn't that how everyone feels? Like, not a gender????" we love this for them

you both kind of heal each other through this process

they like seeing you when you're most comfortable so they get you as many binders as you need

also gets you a custom binder like Sero but with feather designs, not like stupid printable patterns but something that is soft and the softness isn't feathers it's regular fluffy cloth

idk I'm not a designer that's why I gave up and became a writer lmao

they also get you a compression corset because they're emo

if there is surgery it takes a lot of time to convince them

they don't ever want you to regret anything they helped you with so it takes a lot of long-winded conversations about it

there was a lot of nervousness on their part because (this is just my headcanon) they were almost convinced to get surgery to construct their face to look human-like

they had a lot of their family tell them that, because of the way they looked, they had less of a chance to become a hero, they were immensely traumatized by this and thus wants to make absolutely sure you were okay with this

but when they finally find themself comforted by you about it it happens quickly and in the safest way you could possibly imagine

Shinso Hitoshi

Shinsou didn't want to approach you at all, he was so scared you'd run away or tell him he's a villain

they always thought that they weren't good enough for you

he loved you but you needed to say hi first

and you did

so he whisked you away

they like to just brainwash you into tasting certain types of food when you're craving them instead of just getting you food

he likes to talk to you in a voice like he would talk to a kitten, not like husky or anything sexy, but something cute and adorable

especially when you're brainwashed and can't say anything to him

He likes to give you lots of soft stuff like I'm talking pillows upon pillows and squishmallows

once he gets his own house they get it in a place that's more comforting in the dark than in the light

they really like the dark and outdoorsy vibe anyway so if they choose a place somewhere in the forest to keep you what's the added bonus if no one can hear you scream?

a little bit of spice; he has this whole a/b/o fantasy (idk it's his vibes that he'd read that fanfic and stuff lmao) and kinda treats you like you were an omega

sometimes if you guys do have sex they'll brainwash you to act like an omega or once he's more experienced with bodily manipulation involving their quirk they'll make you do all of the......omega things

when you come out to them, if you're trans, they're definitely gonna not care

like if you need comfort and stuff about it they will not make a big deal about it

he legit is like "okay .....can I still fuck you or?????"

HE JUST GIVES OFF REALLY HORKNEE VIBES OKAY?????

definitely brainwashes you into not feeling dysphoric anymore though

like loves it when you come up all sad to him and uncomfy just to ask them to brainwash you

he melts over you cuddling them after those times though

if you want surgery they're gonna make sure that it's between him and the doctors that y'all are there

like no one knows you're there, completely off radius, in and out like nothing (he's basically a cryptid in the woods by the time you guys have the surgery, so they wanna make sure no one questions it)

Monoma Neito

bold of you to assume that man can express literally anything when he wants to just sit you on his lap and look at your pretty face

love at first sight taken literally but not in a shallow way

he loves just having you around him

kinda treats you as an accessory at times, talks like you're a purse or something and people don't really comment but it's really freaking them out sometimes when you don't speak up on it

likes to say he's the only one to understand you cause he's afraid you'd leave him

a hardcore fan of collars though

definitely has lots of jewelry that represents him even though you don't go out he still loves the idea of it

big time cook

loves providing for you, never lets you do a damn thing other than watching pre-approved cartoons and hobbies

absolute fucking disaster about hugging you

always has to be touching you

he thinks you're so fucking gorgeous and body worships you even out of the bedroom

if you're trans he will definitely be weird about it at first

he's just diet transphobic

he's not denying it but sometimes he's like "Are you sure???" and stuff

he clears this up with the help of you being pissed enough to not eat or talk to him until he apologizes

he then educates himself on it and comes to the conclusion that he was in fact being an asshole

talks to you about binders and stuff like that

doesn't really believe in surgery, he would never allow you to do that just because it would be too painful for him to see you go through

he instead literally searches the whole fucking globe for a person with a body-altering quirk to make sure you don't get hurt

he seeks out homophobes, transphobes, and other dumbasses on the regular just to kill them like literally it just started out for your approval but now it's just for fun

Anyway, the villain one (if I do it) will probably become just horknee brain rot cause I am a slut. Request some stuff and I'll try to put up some works if y'all want ig.

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musette22 · 3 years

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Burning For You

Title: Burning For You Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan) Rating: Teen and up Word count: 3.1k A/N: Written for Evanstan Week day 6, a late fill for the Alternate Universe prompt. This silly piece of fluff is entirely inspired by the wonder that is the Mountain Lodge candle from the Yankee Candle Company. Yes, the one that inspired this iconic Tumblr post. The one that smells like Chris Evans.

I was lucky enough to receive one as a gift from the wonderful @howdoyousleep3 and my life hasn't been the same since I smelled it for the first time. Thank you for introducing me to such delights baby K, ilyyy 💖 Also BIG thank you to the @evanstanweek team and to my beautiful beta @rainbowsandcoconut who came up with the outline for this fic when I told her my idea! Love you, boo 😘

Summary: Evanstan AU. Sebastian gets a little carried away when raving about the Mountain Lodge candle to a friend. It leads to an unexpected, fragrant encounter.

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“Listen, D. You’ve gotta smell this candle.” Sebastian leans in closer, nearly knocking over his - third - glass of red. “You know I’m not usually a scented candle kinda guy, but this one…” He closes his eyes and tips back his head, an expression of pure bliss on his face. “Incredible. Glorious. Magnificent.”

“You look like you’re about to pull a Meg Ryan in When Harry met Sally over there, Seb.”

Sebastian straightens, giving Deirdre a meaningful look across the table at the low-key SoHo bar they’re having drinks at. “You kid, but I’m this close. It’s that good, not even exaggerating.”

“Sure you’re not,” Deirdre huffs, lifting her glass and taking a sizeable gulp of her Cosmopolitan.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” Sebastian shrugs. “You know, I pity you for not having experienced the delights of the Mountain Lodge candle, really. If you knew what it smelled like, you’d be singing its praises too, believe me.”

Deirdre rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Fine, I’ll bite. What does it smell like, Sebastian, pray tell.”

Sebastian sits up eagerly. “It smells…” he starts, “like an evening in that lodge in the Green Mountains we rented with the others a couple of years ago. Remember that? How it felt to relax by the fire after a long day of hiking, the scent of cedarwood and toasted marshmallows in the air?”

“Hmmm,” Deirdre agrees. “That was nice, yeah. But hardly worth busting a nut over, I’d say.”

Sebastian holds up a single finger. “I'm not done. Because this candle doesn’t just smell like the lodge, it also smells like the lumberjack living at the lodge.”

Deirdre frowns. “There was no lumberjack living at the –”

“The metaphorical lumberjack, D, god. Work with me here a little.”

“Oh right, okay. Gotcha.”

“It smells,” Sebastian continues, undeterred, “like soft, worn flannel. Like beard oil and a hint of clean sweat. It smells like a big, strong, gorgeous man who just got done hewing a ginormous tree with his massive axe and cutting it down into firewood, which he’s now using to light the very fireplace in front of which he’ll make sweet, sweet love to you, on the rug that’s actually the skin of a bear that attacked his rescue dog and which this man fought off and killed with his own bare hands.”

“Whooofffff,” Deirdre says, fanning herself with a napkin. “Fine, I’m starting to see the attraction.”

“It smells…” Sebastian goes on, pausing for dramatic effect before delivering his clincher, “like Chris Evans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Deirdre groans loudly, sagging back in her chair. “Ughh, shoulda known this was coming. For chrissake, Sebastian, you literally cannot go even one night without bringing up Chris Evans, can you?”

“I totally can,” Sebastian protests, like the mature, professional, Times-employed literary critic he is. “But you don’t understand, D. This candle, it’s actually like they bottled the very essence of Chris Evans and then infused a candle with it. It’s life-changing.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have a permanent boner for Chris Evans, you wanna marry him and have his little bearded babies, tell me something I don’t know,” Deirdre sighs, draining the last of her drink and immediately starting to look around for the waiter to order a new one. Distantly, Sebastian notices the song playing in the background changing to The Smith’s ‘Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want'. Ah, if only.

“Listen to me,” Sebastian insists, unconsciously starting to speak louder, like he’s some small-town preacher trying to make his ignorant clergy see the light. “Deirdre, darling, you’re one of my oldest friends. I wouldn’t lie to you. I swear, when you smell this candle, you too will feel like you’re being engulfed in the embrace of the brilliant, spectacular, totally unique smokeshow that goes by the name of Chris Evans. It’s as if the man himself is wrapping those huge, muscled arms of his around you, crushing you to his wide chest as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck while his beard brushes your temple and you inhale his masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat, I swear to god – D, are you even listening?”

At some point during the last part of Sebastian’s homily, Deirdre’s eyes drifted to a point over his right shoulder and got stuck there.

“Did you just- zone out?” Sebastian asks indignantly, waving a hand in front of her face. She doesn’t even blink. “Hello? Earth to Deirdre.”

“Seb,” Deirdre says, still not looking at Sebastian.

“Oh, I see,” Sebastian barrels on. “Here I am, pouring my heart out, telling you I found a candle that smells exactly like the man of my dreams and you’re just… What are you doing, actually? Are you okay?”

At this point, Deirdre’s eyes have gone comically round, mouth hanging open just a little. “Sebastian,” she repeats, more urgently now – and just as he’s turning his head to find out what put that dumbfounded look on her face, someone nearby clears their throat.

Sebastian startles, looking up at the man who’s appeared next to their table.

“Hi,” the man says in a deep, rich voice.

A deep, rich voice that Sebastian knows all too well. A deep, rich voice that belongs to none other than Chris Evans, Hollywood heartthrob and actual smokeshow, himself.

Oh.

Sebastian gapes while Chris, dressed in dark wash jeans, a red flannel shirt and a brown shearling jacket, smiles at him patiently. He’s all soft-looking beard and strong nose and bulging biceps and long, lean legs, and Sebastian has died and gone to heaven.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Chris says, “but was just sitting a table over and I couldn’t help but overhear.”

And from one moment to the next, Sebastian crashes forcefully back to earth. His whole body goes cold, the blood draining from his face so quickly he feels dizzy with it.

Fuck. No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. There is no way this is actually happening.

Except it is.

Sebastian had just been extremely, loudly and publicly horny about the very guy that’s standing next to him right now. The guy who is no doubt about to give Sebastian a piece of his mind at best, and a right hook to the jaw at worst. And honestly, he’d deserve it.

Since Sebastian wouldn’t even know where to begin apologizing, he says nothing. Just keeps staring at Chris in ever-growing horror, his pulse pounding in his ears so loudly it almost drowns out the miserable sound of Morrissey still pleading in the background.

Chris clears his throat. “So,” he says, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. “This candle smells like me, huh?”

Sebastian groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- Oh my god, please, please, please just forget you heard any of that.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Puzzled, Sebastian chances a glance at Chris from between his fingers. He’s partly still covering his face out of embarrassment, and partly because Chris is so gorgeous in real life that Sebastian isn’t sure he could look at him directly without spontaneously combusting. It’s like staring at the fucking sun. He doesn’t seem too angry, though, thank god. In fact, there’s an amused twinkle in his blue eyes that makes Sebastian’s shoulders relax infinitesimally.

“Because it was incredibly inappropriate?” Sebastian suggests, honestly a bit confused about having to explain this to him.

“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “It sounded pretty great. Kinda want to smell it for myself now.”

For some unfathomable reason – probably because unexpectedly seeing his long-time celebrity crush in the flesh broke his brain, Sebastian blurts out, “Oh, I don’t have it with me. It’s back at my apartment.”

Slowly, Chris raises a single eyebrow. The look sends a shiver straight down Sebastian’s spine, from the crown of his head right down to his toes. “Is it now?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian replies breathlessly.

Chris’s gaze drops down to Sebastian’s brown leather boots before slowly travelling back up to his face. “I gotta say, normally someone would at least have to buy me dinner first, but…” He trails off, looking Sebastian straight in the eye before finishing, “I am really curious about this candle.”

“You are?” Sebastian says dumbly, and then “Ow!” when Deirdre delivers an impressively precise kick to his shin under the table. He turns to give her a betrayed look, but when he meets her eyes, with which she’s clearly trying very hard to communicate something to him, he finally catches on. “Oh!” Sebastian whips back around to Chris, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “I- you- you mean like…” He swallows hard. “You wanna come back to my place to, uh, smell the candle?”

Although Chris’s expression remains amused, there’s a hint of trepidation there as well. “Sure,” he says, smiling crookedly. “If… that’s something you’re up for?”

Sebastian’s mind races. The way he sees it, there are two possibilities. Either Chris Evans is actually standing here in the flesh, propositioning him, or Sebastian hit his head in the bathroom earlier and is actually just lying on the dirty tile floor, hallucinating as a result of severe head trauma. The second option seems by far the most likely, but then, his shin does hurt like a sonuvabitch.

Well, fuck.

Sebastian clears his throat and sits up straighter, running a hand through his longish hair. “I mean, yeah, that’s- wow. That. That would be okay with me, uh huh. You mean like, now?”

“If that works for you?”

Without thinking, Sebastian says, “Well, I’m here with Deirdre –” before letting out another sharp yelp as said Deirdre crushes his toes under her heel. “Jesus, D!”

Deirdre ignores him. “Ohhh, would you look at the time,” she exclaims, holding up her wrist which very much doesn’t have a watch on it. “Boy, it’s much later than I thought. I really oughta get going, early start tomorrow.” She yawns theatrically, then grabs her purse and throws down two twenties on the table. “It was lovely seeing you, Sebastian, Chris… Evans,” she adds, with a wooden nod in Chris’s direction. “Hope you two have a lovely evening, bye now!”

And she’s gone.

They both stare after her for a second, and then Chris chuckles – a low sound that reverberates pleasantly in Sebastian’s chest. “Well,” Chris says, turning back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Chris.”

Sebastian stands, taking Chris’s hand, which is warm and big and ever so slightly calloused, and exactly like Sebastian always imagined. “Yeah, I know,” he says, because he’s cool like that. And then, in a show of bravura that surprises even himself, Sebastian holds Chris’s gaze, tilts his head a fraction, and says, “So uh, my place?”

Chris smiles, casually dropping a few bills on the table, more than enough to cover their drinks, before taking a step to the side to let Sebastian pass. “Lead the way,” he says, lightly resting his hand on the small of Sebastian’s back as they make their way towards the exit.

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

It’s only once they’re outside and the cold February night air manages to cool down Sebastian’s overheated brain somewhat that it occurs to him to ask if Chris wasn’t at the bar with anyone.

“I met a friend for drinks but he just left,” Chris explains. “I was just waiting for the bill when I overheard you guys.”

“And you’re sure you don’t have any other plans?” Sebastian asks, because he’s nothing if not a self-sabotaging idiot.

They’re still standing outside the bar, the golden light radiating from a nearby lamppost decorated with a cluster of luminous orbs making Chris look softer, somehow. Still a Hollywood heartthrob, but also charmingly human. Unfortunately, it does absolutely nothing to make Sebastian any less infatuated. If anything, it only endears Chris to him more, which he really didn’t think was possible.

“Not really, no,” Chris replies, amusement in his tone. “I was just gonna go back to my hotel and read for a bit.”

Sebastian perks up at the mention of his area of expertise. “Oh, yeah? What’re you reading?”

“I haven’t started it yet, but it’s this history of space travel? I read a great review of it in the Times the other day, so I thought I’d give it a go.” With a self-deprecating smile, Chris adds, “I’m kind of a space nerd.”

Sebastian blinks. “Not ‘To Infinity and Beyond’, by any chance?”

“That’s the one,” Chris confirms. “You know it?”

“I wrote the review.”

Chris’s eyes go round. “You did not.”

In lieu of replying, Sebastian digs up his wallet from his pocket, takes out his Times-employee card and holds it up for Chris’s inspection.

“Huh,” Chris says, studying the card. “What are the odds.” When his eyes turn back to Sebastian’s, he suddenly breaks out into a grin, wide and boyish. “Well, I guess that explains a thing or two.”

“How do you mean?” Sebastian frowns.

“I mean, that review was brilliantly written so you clearly have a way with words.” With a sly look, Chris goes on, “which explains your colorful descriptions of that candle earlier. The masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat was especially vivid.”

Sebastian groans, dragging a hand down over his face. “Jesus Christ, this is so embarrassing.”

Chris eyes shine with genuine mirth as he laughs, “Hey, come on, don’t worry about it.” He takes a step closer, ducking his head to try and catch Sebastian’s eyes, which are now firmly fixed on the pavement in an attempt to conjure up a hole to swallow him. “Call me a narcissist, but I didn’t exactly hate overhearing a gorgeous guy describing me as the man of his dreams.”

“Oh god,” Sebastian mutters, feeling himself turn a fetching shade of crimson. Trying to hide his blush, he turns around abruptly and nearly walks into the lamppost.

Chris, his savior, his knight in shining armor, manages to grab him by the back of his coat just in time to avoid the imminent collision. Sebastian still stumbles, but strong, capable arms wrapping securely around his waist keep him upright.

Carefully, Sebastian turns in Chris’s embrace so they’re facing each other, though he can’t quite make himself look Chris in the eye yet. “I’m guessing you caught on to this by now,” Sebastian tells the St Christopher pendant resting on Chris’s sternum, “but I’m kind of a disaster.”

Chris just hums, lifting a hand to tilt up Sebastian’s chin with his index finger, a small smile playing on his lips. “A beautiful one, though,” he whispers into the negligible space between them, before he closes that space and presses soft, full lips to Sebastian’s own.

Sebastian can’t suppress the small sound that escapes him when their lips meet, eyes closing on instinct as he lets himself sink into the kiss. Lets Chris take charge and coax open Sebastian’s mouth by running the tip of his tongue along the seam of his lips. Sebastian doesn’t think twice about letting him in. When their tongues touch, sweet and soft and languid, he trembles, pressing closer. Chris tastes a little like beer, and while Sebastian’s never been overly fond of beer, it takes approximately two seconds of being kissed by the hottest man on the planet for it to magically turn into Sebastian’s new favorite taste. Ever.

The kiss starts off slow; a little cautious maybe, as if Chris still isn’t entirely sure it’s welcomed. But then Sebastian’s hands find their way to Chris’s waist, fingers gripping tightly, and Chris slides a hand into Sebastian’s hair, angling his head gently to the left to deepen the kiss – and suddenly, Sebastian’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. He moans, relishing the feel of Chris's soft beard scratching at his clean-shaven cheeks, and way Chris takes control of the kiss, like something right out of every embarrassing fantasy he's ever had.

When Chris hums against his lips, as if he’s enjoying this just as much as Sebastian is, Sebastian’s knees go all weak and useless. It’s a good thing that Chris is there, tightening his left arm around his waist and pulling him more securely against the hard lines of his own body – which actually doesn’t do a thing to help Sebastian’s current knee situation. He whimpers, curling his hands into the fabric of Chris’s coat to anchor himself.

When Chris finally breaks the kiss, he doesn’t go far. His breathing has deepened, warm puffs of air caressing Sebastian’s tingling, wet lips. Sebastian exhales shakily. The way his head is spinning might be partially due to the wine, but it's definitely mostly because of Chris sweeping him off his feet with his smooth, movie star ways.

Needing a moment to gain his composure before he speaks, Sebastian buries his face in the crook of Chris’s neck, taking a deep, steadying breath –

Oh.

“I fucking knew it,” he groans.

Sebastian feels rather than hears Chris’s quiet laugh; feels the vibrations of it shake his broad chest under Sebastian’s palms. “Yeah? Do I really smell like your candle?”

“Better,” Sebastian mutters. On instinct, he presses his lips against Chris’s exposed neck, eliciting a shiver from him.

“You know,” Chris rumbles into Sebastian’s ear. “I still think I need to smell this magical thing for myself. Make sure you’re not just flattering me to get into my pants, y'know?”

Christ.

“Yeah,” Sebastian nods. “Definitely, good thinking. Empirical evidence is paramount. In fact, it’s totally possible I’m just mixing things up right now because my brain’s all” – he makes a poof motion with his hands, trusting Chris will get his drift – “so I think maybe I’ll need to do some comparative research.”

Chris tilts his head in though. “Hands-on research?”

“I think that’s best, yes,” Sebastian concurs.

“Right. Well, out of the two of us, you’re definitely the higher educated one, so I’m just gonna take your word for that.” After a beat, Chris adds, “as long as I get to test a theory or two of my own.”

“Oh?” Sebastian licks his lips. “Such as?”

The wicked glint in Chris’s eyes is the only warning he gets before Chris is sliding his hand back into Sebastian’s hair and giving it a firm, experimental tug.

“Ah,” Sebastian breathes, his eyelids fluttering, the blood rushing south so fast he feels dizzy – again.

Chris grins smugly. “Such as that.”

“Okay,” Sebastian croaks. “Yeah, that seems fair.” Wasting no more time, he reaches out to grab Chris’s free hand and starts to pull him along the pavement in the direction of his apartment.

Chris, laughing as he squeezes Sebastian’s hand, follows closely behind.

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

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#evanstan week 2021 #evanstan #rpf #chris evans x sebastian stan #chris evans #sebastian stan #my fic #my writing #heeeyyyy look at that I still write!#just took a little break #sorry about that 😅#hope you enjoy!!

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deijnar · 3 years

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The only one who makes me nervous

Incredible but true - I wrote something! And am posting it!

This is my piece for the great @mysme-rbb and I got to collaborate with @braincellbank, definitely check their artwork out! The CMC used in this is theirs ^-^

You can also find the fic on Ao3!

So here goes a lot of fluffy, cute Jaehee pining~

╰⊱♥⊱╮●╭⊱♥≺

With suspicion, Jaehee squints her eyes at the ingredients on the countertop of her and Lila's brand new cafe. After months of preparation and an almost breakdown when she asked them to become her partner for this adventure, Jaehee's dream finally comes true - a cute, domestic yet elegant cafe that she owns with her best friend.

But…

"There was more chocolate."

Lila's eyes widen and they furrow their eyebrows, looking at the potential crime scene as well. "Huh? What do you mean?" They check the scale. "It's the exact amount we need for the recipe."

Jaehee shakes her head, looking at the pieces in the bowl. "I could have sworn I put more in there…"

"You're probably just nervous! We're about to bake our very first cake for the cafe, isn't it exciting?"

The way they beam at Jaehee makes her chest feel warm and her knees go a little weak, causing Jaehee to forget what she was just thinking about entirely.

"That must be it, I'm sure you're right. This is what I've dreamed of for a very long time, I feel all… fluttery inside." To hide her soft chuckle, Jaehee turns her head away a little and shields her mouth with one of her hands. Showing emotion is still… foreign to her and she is still shy about it.

Lila clicks their tongue in disapproval. "Now come over here and let me see that stunning face of yours, we have work to do! I'm all excited for this too but I'm waiting for the proper view." Demanding, they motion to the space across from them, followed by a little wink.

As all of Lila's teasing does, their comment makes Jaehee's heart hiccup in her chest, a too familiar heat already painting her cheeks in a soft blush. There’s only one way to deal with them when they get like that…

Speaking Korean, especially if the sentences are long and spoken fast, is the only way for Jaehee to feel like she is still somewhat in control when she is around Lila. Given that Korean is not their first language and they’re still learning, they tend to get really sheepish when they don’t understand something. And, for Jaehee, it’s the only weapon she has to not let Lila’s boldness knock her out.

Normally, she speaks English around them or slow, easy Korean. But not in moments like this.

“If only you knew what you’re doing to me with such behavior…”

Jaehee keeps her voice low and talks fast, even a fluent speaker would have had trouble to understand her.

“What was that?” The cocky grin on their face immediately shrinks to a shy expression and Jaehee can’t help but feel a little guilty, although relieved.

Of course she hates it to make her friend feel insecure, she wants to make them feel just as strong and support them just as much as they do for her. But sometimes she has to do this, only to not combust due to the hidden feelings in her heart.

“Oh, nothing. Let’s start baking.” With a somewhat apologetic smile, she walks up to Lila and stands on the other side of the countertop, looking at the instructions in front of her. Now, she has to fire Lila’s confidence in themself again. “How about you start with the dough while I try out these decorations? Your doughs always turn out amazing.” The proud gleam in Lila’s eyes that Jaehee likes to see so much is back immediately. “They do indeed. What are you making?” Curiously, they get to their tiptoes, trying to get a peek of the picture she is holding. “Some flowers.” Calculating, she leans her head to the side, inspecting the pictures as well, lowering the piece of paper so it's easier for Lila to see. “I’ve never tried to make these before but I wanted to set myself a challenge. Hopefully, they’ll turn out fine.” “I’m sure they’ll turn out perfect. Like you.” One of Lila’s hands lands on Jaehee’s cheek, presumably for encouragement, and Jaehee can practically feel their chuckle as she straightens as if the touch burned her skin. Which it really seems to do, given how hot she feels all of a sudden. “Y-yes. I… Maybe. Yes, I’ll do my best.”

Not knowing what else she could possibly say that wouldn’t give away how fast her heart is beating, Jaehee gets to work. She presses her lips together and tries to ignore Lila’s gaze she can clearly feel on herself as she begins to knead and color the fondant.

Luckily, Lila decides to be merciful and not make any more comments that get Jaehee out of her concentration, maybe so they can get to work as well.

It doesn’t take the young woman long to forget everything around herself as she fully focuses on the task at hand. She gets lost in the thrill of trying new, challenging things and the rewarding feeling when an experiment with one of her utensils works out, giving the flowers as they are described in the instructions her own twist. One petal after the next is formed and, after some time, Jaehee finds a routine, the activity having a quite calming and almost meditative effect on her.

Her thoughts wander.

And, as they do so very often, they wander to the wonderful person standing in front of her right now.

It’s been a few months since they’ve met, got to know each other and even ended up as close as they are right now. Not much, in Jaehee’s opinion, and yet she can barely recall a time where Lila hasn’t been in her life, much less can or does she want to imagine a future without them. They have saved her from her monotone, stressful life that never would have gained her any kind of happiness and turned it upside down. They have turned it into an unpredictable, exciting adventure, the only goal being to chase their dreams and find joy. Together.

Never again does Jaehee want to be without Lila’s stirring presence that doesn’t only bring spice but also light into her life.

Of course it hadn’t been easy for Jaehee to admit to herself that she’d fallen in love. Of course she had been scared of rejection, of the possible heartbreak. Of the risks that come with loving someone so deeply, even after such a short period of time, only falling deeper for their captivating soul more and more with every passing day.

But no matter how strong her fears had been, by that, they only became the evidence for her feelings for Lila. And finally, after multiple sleepless nights, Jaehee had not only faced the truth that she’s helplessly lost her heart to the best friend she’s ever had, she also came to the conclusion that all of this turmoil is worth it. That the nagging fear is nothing compared to the exciting tingle that runs from the center of her stomach through her entire body as soon as Lila walks into the room. That a possible heartbreak is a price she is willing to pay, as long as she gets to feel the way she does for a little while longer every time Lila smiles at her, only her.

And now, they’re working together, they’re partners. Maybe they’ll never be more than that, friends and partners, but Jaehee knows that, at least, they will always be together. Even if she should slip one day - Lila won’t just leave her for the way she feels. In that, Jaehee trusts unconditionally. In Lila, she trusts unconditionally.

Before she knows it, she’s used up the last bit of fondant, has created the last flower for the day. Proudly, Jaehee looks down at the decorations in front of her, all kinds of blossoms in many different colors, shades and sizes spreading out on the table.

"I did it!" The excitement in her voice is very clear and maybe, normally, she would try to conceal it to keep her countenance. But right now, she's way too happy and feels way too safe and comfortable with Lila to even care.

"I knew it!" There's some flour on Lila's cheek as they grin at Jaehee. "I told you they'll look perfect. You did it!"

Far from sick of looking at her own creations, Jaehee smiles down at the sugary decoration in front of her again. Then, she turns her head up to look at Lila again, unaware of the fact that her friend had just started leaning forward to peck her cheek.

Lila's lips land on the corner of Jaehee's mouth and she freezes. Time seems to stop and so does her heartbeat.

As to be expected, Lila isn't fazed by it at all. On the contrary, they seem to enjoy it quite a lot judging by the amused grin on their face and the fact that they stay much closer than they'd need to. They're not even saying anything and yet Jaehee feels like she will be reduced to an inarticulate, blushy mess in mere seconds.

There’s nothing she can do but pointedly look to the side to stop her brain from short-circuiting. No matter how much she wants to look at her stunning friend, she can’t, knowing that, if she would, she couldn't rip her eyes off the lips she so badly wants to feel on hers.

And at that moment, there's just one thing Jaehee can do.

"While investing in the stock market, it's very important to maximize the possible outcome for your transaction while simultaneously minimizing the risk you take."

Although she's speaking her native tongue, Jaehee stumbles over her own words with how quickly she is saying them. Also, she's not even sure if what she just said actually makes sense.

Yet, the words have the effect she was desperately hoping for - Lila softly shakes their head, the threateningly teasing expression on their face making way for utter confusion as they subconsciously draw back a few inches.

Jaehee hates it as much as it makes her feel relieved.

"What?"

"Nothing!" Quickly, Jaehee turns to face the table again, unnecessarily starting to sort the flowers still laying there by size. If she's confronted with that gorgeous face any longer, she won't be able to hold back anymore. "We should-"

Before she can bring up her suggestion to give the cake more layers than they'd originally planned, Lila gently places their hand on hers on the table between them.

If she is honest to herself, Jaehee knows that she wants nothing to be between them anymore, to separate them.

At first, she still refuses to look at Lila. Even without getting lost in those lovely eyes of the person that saved her from the miserable life she has been living - the speed of her heartbeat is already concerning.

But the light caress of their soft fingers on her skin makes her slowly, carefully, look up at them again, bringing her even closer to the figure she wants to embrace and never let go.

She really wants the piece of furniture gone.

"Do I truly make you this nervous?"

Lila's voice is low and raw, not hiding the emotions behind their words. They sound surprisingly hopeful and… a little scared?

Not trusting her voice to do what she wants, Jaehee just nods. Shouldn't Lila know about the effect they have on her? With how much they've been playing around with it, Jaehee has been convinced they know.

But Lila shakes their head.

"I mean, is it me who makes you nervous? Or is it the flirting, the teasing? Would you get flustered by anyone acting like this?"

Trying to calm down her rapidly beating heart, Jaehee shakes her head. She swallows, wanting her words to be audible and the truth in them to be apparent.

"I get flustered because it's you, Lila. It's not just the teasing. Everything you do makes me nervous somehow. But at the same time, you're the only person that can truly calm me down."

As to prove her statement, she nervously averts her gaze. She doesn't know much about friendship and how it works, she's worried she's said too much. And Lila is so close… Concentrating is impossible.

Time seems to be standing still.

This may be because Lila stands still, a thing they usually never do. It makes Jaehee feel a bit uneasy, she isn't sure what to think of this or what to expect, it's so atypical for her friend.

Her thoughts keep running, trying to figure out what exactly is happening right now and how to act further. Eventually, after not finding any satisfying answer, Jaehee decides to slowly turn her head back to look at Lila again.

The intensity in Lila's eyes keeps her in place as soon as their gazes lock. Now both of them seem to be frozen in time, just staring at each other.

(by @braincellbank)

Jaehee has no idea what this means or what step should be taken next, let alone by whom. She just knows that she doesn't want to look away.

When Lila finally moves, it happens suddenly and fast.

Jaehee's eyes widen when they suddenly jerk forward, and they widen even more as Lila presses their lips to hers.

It takes Jaehee's brain a moment to catch up to what's happening, to understand it. To understand that this is real, that what she's secretly dreamed of and fantasized about for weeks and months truly is happening, right here and now.

But as soon as it sinks in, her eyes flutter closed and her free hand, the one Lila isn't touching, finds their cheek.

The kiss feels like heaven.

Soon, Lila relaxes into Jaehee's touch and the frantic, nervous hectic of the firm pressing of their lips shifts into a soft, loving exploration.

In no time, Jaehee is entirely captivated, forgetting that the world exists around them and even if she would remember, she wouldn't care. All she cares about is Lila.

Lila's touch, their warmth, their scent. The fact that this kiss feels even better than she could have ever imagined it.

Her heart beats so fast it seems like it's trying to fly out of her chest to catapult itself into the sky to rejoice.

And Lila's lips taste so sweet…

Too sweet.

With a gasp, Jaehee breaks the kiss.

"You did snack on the chocolate! I knew it!"

Throwing their head back, Lila laughs, their earlier stillness nowhere to be found anymore. Their smile is just as wide as Jaehee's and they look just as happy as her.

Jaehee couldn't care less about the chocolate.

"Guess you've caught me." Another sly smile makes it to their lips. "Guess I'll have to make up for it…"

A quiet, displeased noise slips over Jaehee's lips as Lila draws back. But soon, they've made their way around the table and Jaehee finds herself in their arms, embracing them as well on instinct.

"I don't think I want to bake anymore today."

They're both grinning at each other before their lips meet in another kiss.

#mysmerbb #mysme #mystic messenger #mm #mm fluff #fluff #jaehee fluff #mystic messenger jaehee #mystic messenger fluff #jaehee kang #Jaehee Kang Fluff #mysme fic #jaehee fanfiction #mm jaehee fluff #collaboration #braincellbank #braincellsart

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bluecloudious · 3 years

Text

Kinda angst I guess (but it has Zanaz so take that with a grain of salt)

Trying out writing a story this time.

I mean, yeah, I wrote for the comics, but not long dialog.

So yea, as per both the funni boys mature content warning. (There's no canoodling, there is talk of it tho.)

Also there's quite a bit of text (8 pages worth on Word)

So ye:

“Get up, I have some juicy gossip for you.”

...What?

I open my eyes and the world around me is blinding. It’s so bright that it takes a second to adjust to it. There’s nothing around me other than vast white and empty space.

This definitely isn’t Nevada anymore. (Unless Hank managed to ruin everything even further somehow.)

“Get up now, I know you heard me.”

I get up and look around. Who the hell is talking? There’s literally nothing but white for miles.

“I’m in your head, pretty boy.”

Uh, that…

“I’m holding my eyes closed, don’t worry. I regret ever having them open in here, in fact.”

Welp, that answers that. Now for the other question.

“Who I am is not important. What info I have, may be of interest, though.”

Alright?

“There’s a deal attached to this knowledge, Zanaz. Hear me out before you start fidgeting.”

I’ll sure try.

“You know Kits, right?”

No duh, he’s my best friend.

“Excellent. He’s going to die soon.”

…

What?! Wha, when, how, uh--

“Calm down, jitterbug. There’s nothing you can do to stop his fate, so don’t try. If he doesn’t die one way, another thing will go wrong. Understand?”

I-- NO! What the fuck?! Are you gonna kill him?!

“No, not me. I’m just sharing the news.”

Yeah, right, sure. Fucking… When then?

“Soon.”

How soon? In a month, week or a few days?

“Hm… A month then, give or take.”

...Fuck… How?

“Depends on what leads up to it.”

So, there are a lot of different ways it can happen, right?

“Indeed there are.”

...Do I die with him?

“No.”

NO?! In none of the different variations, I don’t die by his side?

“Oh, you can be by his side, of course. But death isn’t after you.”

What if I try to block a bullet, but it goes through both of us.

“Oddly specific. You’ll still survive.”

What if I block it with my head?!

“Brain damage, possible vegetable state. Will still survive though.”

What if Hank slices us with one of his multiple katanas?!

“People have lived through being sliced in half before.”

WHAT.

“This world has zombie clowns with god like powers and the AAHW is lead by a man consisting of black fire.”

...Ugh, fair enough. So… Wait those are all possible deaths for him?

“If you do everything in your power for it to happen, then yes.”

I… I can kill him before his time?

“Of course! You have free will, don’t you? It’s more of a question if you want to.”

Of course I fucking don’t! I care about him!

“I saw. You daydream about him an uncomfortable amount.”

He’s the main person I’m around, give me a break!

“Have you ever considered not being horny?”

Until I’m castrated, there’ll be nothing of the sorts.

“You’re not even fertile! None of the clones are!”

You think I’m tryna get anyone pregnant at this sausage fest? Besides, that has not stopped me before.

“I refuse to believe that any of those scenes I saw play out in your head happened for real.”

You’d be surprised then.

“WHICH?!?”

Those are for me to treasure.

“...You’re pulling my leg.”

Believe what you want.

“Augh, never mind, TMI. Back onto the topic at hand.”

Oh, yeah, right. Kit… Dying…

Could you for real not give me a date?

“If it depends on the circumstances beforehand, then there’s no possible way to tell which one belongs to this timeline.”

And that means…?

“I don’t know how this Kits dies.”

Can I at least warn him?

“Well, there’s where the other side of the deal comes in. If you tell him, then the effect kicks in immediately.”

What effect? Death?

“Precisely.”

...Ah. Wait, so if I don’t tell him, he dies in a month but if I do, he dies immediately? Of what?

“Stroke, heart attack or brain aneurysm. Chosen at random. Oh, also sneak assassination. That’s also a valid option.”

...This feels set up.

“Mh?”

This feels like either you or whoever sent you here set this up so I’d suffer. You enjoy the pain of others, don’t you?

“I’m only the messen--”

Yeah, yeah, Messenger Bullshit. Then whoever decided this is probably a reality tv producer, who is jacking off to someone pushing in the soft part of a baby’s skull as we speak. You encourage such behaviour by working with them, ya know.

“...Do you think you sound smart?”

I know for a fact I’m not, so no. I’m pretty sure I’m on the money with this one though.

“If I wasn’t here then Kits’ death would come as a surprise to you though!”

I’d prefer that, actually! Now I have to deal with knowing that he… He… Won’t be here anymore soon.

“Well, knowing how overwhelmingly perverted you are, wouldn’t you wanna grab this opportunity?”

...What?

“Shoot your shot, ask him out. Not like you could do it with a corpse… …Right…?”

I may be horny, but I’m not messed up.

“Had to make sure.”

Ugh, you’re just making fun of me, aren’t you?

“Which instance are you referring to?”

Kit would never date me.

“And why exactly do you think that?”

He has standards?

“You’re a decently handsome fellow. You also get along with him just fine.”

That… That’s not a determinant of shit like that. There’s way better out there for him.

“He won’t meet em then. Only a month to live, remember?”

I… It’s not worth it.

“What isn’t?”

I know he’ll say no, there’s no point in trying.

“How do you know for sure until you actually ask?”

Cause it’s obvious! He’s actually got a brain in his noggin and he knows me way too well! He’d be fucking disgusted, man! We’re just friends and that’s that.

“Do you not want to then?”

...Why do you assume I do? How do you know that those aren’t just blissful fantasies like the rest of them?

“He’s the only one that you dream of in a non-perverted way. I see no other person in this graphic landscape that you want to hold hands with. (Also, I am closing my eyes again now, Jebus Christoff.)”

...Ffffuck.

“Well, did hit the nail on the head?”

Y-You’re stupid and gay!

“I’m rubber, you’re glue.”

That doesn’t affect me, I’m already openly gay and stupid!

“I guess we’re both such then.”

Dammit.

“So, you gonna give him a month to remember or not?”

…Eh?

“Come on, how much romance could a member of the A.A.H.W. really experience throughout their lifetime? If you’d make this month worth his and your own time, perhaps it would be less painful to see him go? At least he died happy?”

THAT WOULD BE EXTRA PAINFUL FOR ME, THOUGH!

“Oop, Zanaz selfish, you heard it here first, folks.”

That’s not what I meant. I’d already be upset over losing my best friend, imagine how fucking devastating losing a sweetheart would be.

“…I dunno, still sounds selfish to me. Does his happiness not mean anything to you?”

Who says he’d be happy with me?

“I know you want to make him happy, at least. You dream about his smile.”

STOP FUCKING LOOKING THOUGH MY THOUGHTS!!

“I’m not looking anymore, I just memorized the ones I already saw. (I wish I couldn’t.)”

I- You- Fucking-- UggHHH! It’s not worth it!

“What exactly do you imagine will happen if you tell him how you feel, huh? World combusts?”

I already told you, he already knows way too much about me! He’d be fucking grossed out and we’ll… We’ll stop being friends.

He’d quicken his pace whenever we’d have to pass each other in one of the halls. He’d desperately keep his glance away from me. He’d… I’d stop being the main person he talks and comes to company for a-and I can’t fucking have that, man!

I-I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He means too much to me.

“…I had no idea you were this insecure.”

FUCK OFF! It’s a bitter reality that I’ve come to accept!

“You haven’t even given it a shot!”

You don’t need to get crushed by a piano to know you’d die on impact!

“Those two things don’t correlate even remotely!”

It’s a metaphor!

“I know that, I’m saying that Kits has a thing for you too!”

…He what?

“He has major league crush on you! The things you say when play-flirting excite him! He’s gotten off to the thought of you touching him up! The works! (Why did I word it like that?)”

Whuh-- How the fuck do you know this??

“While you were monologuing, I visited his subconscious and confirmed it for myself.”

You can do that??

“You don’t even know my name.”

...Fair nuff. So, wait, he’s actually gotten off thinking about me?

“I don’t even need to open my eyes to already know you’re imagining it. Short answer, yes. He’s into you, Zanaz.”

Augh, I dunno what to do with this info. It’s kinda... Overwhelming in a way.

Actually, wait, how do I know you haven’t been lying to me this whole time?

“I’m an incorporeal voice in your head that’s having a back and forth with you in a white void.”

Yeah, and?

“…I’m supernatural?”

Yeah, and?

“Come on! I just know, okay?!”

Sounds fake, not gonna lie.

“The part where I knew that Kits was gonna die was convincing, but the moment I mention that he might have a thing for you, you question the validity of my claims thus far??”

One sounds way more far-fetched than the other, you gotta admit.

“NO IT DOESN’T?!?!”

For you maybe! I’ve known him since I’ve been out the cloning tube! We became agents together! I think I’d know what kinda stuff is off the table for him, buddy.

“Well, not only are you wrong, you’re in denial.”

I am not!

“Then try it! Just attempt asking him out! In the very least, you’ll remain friends after. I promise you. Cross my heart and all that jazz.”

…

…You’re absolutely positive? You are also the person that told me he’d die in a month’s time.

“A hundred percent positive. I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You have a life?

“Unfortunately. So, you’ll do it?”

Why’re you so adamant about me fucking Kits?

“Affgdgfdgfg, it’s not about you fucking him, it’s you making his last living month worthwhile!”

Okay, so, why do you want me to do that?

“…Do you not??”

I mean, I guess that sounds worth my time. But you didn’t answer my question.

“Sorry for assuming that you want the person you’re madly in love with to be happy, I guess??”

Apology accepted. Now, how do I get outta here?

“Ugh, just wake up.”

Whu--

And I’m sitting up in my own mat, back at the facility. The clock shows that it’s early morning.

What the fuck do I make of what I just saw? Or heard, for that matter? It clearly wasn’t a normal dream, I never remember those. Plus the topic tends to blur together usually.

I gotta tell-- Wait, I can’t do that, fuck.

…

It’s way to early for shit like this, man!!

Augh…

#It's got pictures <:)#OC #Madness combat #I took my time with this one and like how it came out #Augh I had to even edit the text and shit on Tumblr...#I be like *gives Zanaz even more personality*#KitZan

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Text

Feeling As Good As Love

Emma is excited about this weekend.

It's always good — this thing they do, with the house and the ocean and the friendship that seems to stand the test of time. But now, there's an added bonus. Because this year she and Killian aren't just coming to the house on the beach with that friendship moniker hanging over them. They're coming as a couple.

A real couple. That kisses. Regularly. And Emma's excited about that too.

She just didn't expect her friends not to believe her.

----

Rating: Teen, with kissing and some friendship-type swearing Word Count: 5.8 K AN: Listen, this is absolutely the fault of @shireness-says who I realize I keep blaming for things, but she keeps sending me prompts and like...it’s her fault. So basically the prompt was “Okay but like what about a reverse fake dating trope? Like, two people who are together and go home to their families at Christmas but can’t convince anyone that they’re really a couple & everyone thinks it’s a joke.” It’s not Christmas, because it is May right now, but no one believes Emma and Killian want to kiss each other right on the mouth. At all times. I’m me, so naturally they set out to prove otherwise.

And I think this puts Panic! At the Disco in the lead for lyrics as titles.

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll

----

“You know, you don’t actually have to do this.”

Emma doesn’t let go of the plate in her hand, but her eyebrows furrow slightly and Mary Margaret actually has the gall to blush. There are soap suds on her elbow. “Wash the dishes?” Emma quips. “Nuh uh, I’m totally doing this, then I won’t have to do it the rest of the weekend.”

It’s a thing, this annual thing they do — renting a house out East, after Memorial Day, but a few weeks before the tourists descend on the Hamptons and the beaches and the vineyards on the North Fork. And it’s fun, it’s always been fun, college friends and an almost ridiculous amount of alcohol, although none of it ever comes from those vineyards on the North Fork because they’re not actually made of money.

It’s also the first time Emma has brought someone with her.

Kind of.

Killian always comes with them, has been part of the group for as long as she can remember, because he’s been friends with David for as long as she can remember, but this not-so-annual thing the two of them are doing, is pretty new and even more exciting and she might actually be in—

They’ll get there, she’s sure. Presumably after she finishes washing the dishes.

And once Mary Margaret stops staring at her like that.

“Ok,” Emma sighs, shaking her hair off her shoulder for fear of her own issues with soap suds. “What’s your damage?” “Are you quoting things at me?” “Yes, because I don’t understand what’s happening and when I am confused I fall back on tried and true movie quotes. So, c’mon Winona Ryder, what’s your damage?” “Her name wasn’t actually Winona Ryder in the movie,” Mary Margaret points out.

Emma rolls her eyes. With her whole head. “I know you’re not drunk yet,” she says, “because Scarlet and Phillip aren’t back from the liquor store yet—” “—Them having to go to the liquor store at all seems to suggest that we’ve already blasted through our liquor supply. Which, you know, that’s kind of troubling. For us, as people.” “Did you say blasted?” Emma asks, and whatever sound she makes is less a laugh and more like general misunderstanding. Maybe Mary Margaret has been body-snatched. “Like that’s a genuine word you used in this real-life conversation. That the two of us are having.” “Yeah, speaking of two of us…” “Were we?” Mary Margaret grabs a glass. With maybe a bit more force than absolutely necessary, all but yanking the towel off her shoulder, and Emma’s not moving so it’s almost impressive when it feels like her mind trips over itself a bit. While trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

There are footsteps coming towards them.

“Ah,” Ruby says, leaning against the kitchen door frame. “Are we doing this then?”

Emma’s jaw cracks when it drops open.

Mary Margaret grits her teeth.

She’s totally going to break that glass.

And that will inevitably piss off Regina. She’s the one who booked this house. AirBnB, whatever. All Emma knows is that she made sure both her and Killian’s payments were Venmo’ed to Regina almost on time and that her nearly-serious boyfriend who she might genuinely be in—whatever with has a habit of over packing socks.

Killian brought no less than twenty-four pairs of socks with him. For one weekend. Four days, three nights. With her. In one room.

It’s the first time they’ve ever been away together. And now this is happening. Whatever this is.

“That’s not an answer,” Ruby continues, five steps and one jump until she’s perched on the edge of what may actually be a marble counter. “He’s playing some stupid video game with David, anyway, so it’s not like we’re going to be interrupted.” “What video game?” Mary Margaret asks. Neither she nor Ruby flinch when Emma throws her hands in the air.

Soap suds land on several different cabinet doors.

There are an obscene number of cabinets in his house.

“They’re really serious about Mario Party,” Emma says, like it’s obvious. It kind of is. She knows for a fact that David had texted Killian about bringing his DS with him that weekend, mostly because she was lying next to him when he got the text. “And seriously—what is going on with you guys? Was this conversation preordained?” Ruby clicks her teeth. “More like a discussion was had in passing, but—” She cuts herself off when Mary Margaret’s cheeks flames. “Look at you,” Ruby accuses, “you’re not helping at all. Emma is going to think we were gossiping.” “Weren’t we?” Mary Margaret counters.

“I mean—well, gossip is such a dirty word and this...Em, you don’t have to fake on our behalf.”

Emma blinks. Once. Then does it again. She flutters her fingers, which only leaves a bit of moisture clinging to her pants, and that’s a little annoying. Not as annoying as the prospect of her two best friends gossiping about something she still doesn’t understand, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Say words,” she demands. “In something vaguely resembling a sentence.”

Ruby squeezes one eye shut. “It’s just—ok, we know that there are couples up here and Regina and Locksley are in the middle of full-on wedding plans, which is—you know, it’s annoying and opulent. Is that a good word?” Emma lifts her eyebrows.

Mary Margaret’s cheeks look like they’re half a second from combusting, they’re that red.

And Ruby isn’t done.

“Plus, y’know me and Dor are obviously pretty fucking cute and M’s and David stare longingly at each other every moment of every day.” “That’s not true,” Mary Margaret objects, but both Ruby and Emma make near-identical sounds of disagreement and she suddenly seems very preoccupied with her feet.

“All we’re saying,” Ruby adds, “is that we get it if you felt like you had to show up with—you know, someone special. But...this is—” “—Silly,” Mary Margaret finishes.

Emma can’t move her eyebrows any more. If she does her actual eyes are liable to fall out, and then Regina won’t get her deposit back and that will only end badly.

Eyeballs on the kitchen floor presumably aren’t covered in incidentals.

“What” Emma breathes, “are you talking about?”

Ruby scrunches her nose that time. “It’s just—you and Jones? Really? Like, c’mon, if you were going to pick someone to play boyfriend, there had to be someone better.” Emma is going to have to write Regina a check for damages done to this house. Whatever rushes down her spine is a mix of sudden and rather jarring anger and complete disbelief at what she’s just heard, the words bouncing around her brain like they’ll be able to find a more legitimate order that way.

Head on a swivel, Emma gapes at the two other people in the kitchen, dimly aware of what sounds like an exceptionally competitive round of Mario Party.

“You can’t be serious,” Emma says, voice low and, she hopes, as threatening as possible.

Ruby shrugs. She’s running the gamut of bodily-movement reactions, it seems. “You guys have known each other forever and now you’re going to date? You hated each other when you first met. When’s the last time you and Jones spent time together alone?” “When I spend the night at his apartment. Like last night.”

“Nah, c’mon, who do you think we are, Em? Idiots?” “Apparently,” she shouts, and there goes any sense of threat. Now she just sounds a little unhinged, the word practically snapping out of her and Mary Margaret visibly recoils. Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. “So, wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight. The two of you,” she waves an aggressive hand between them, “legitimately believe that Killian and I are faking our relationship because I feel bad that Robin and Regina are disgustingly in love?”

Mary Margaret lets out a breath, even as her eyes flit towards Ruby. “Not just them,” she reasons. “Everyone’s always kind of paired off here and you’re…” “Oh my God.” “We’re not trying to be insulting.” “And yet,” Emma grumbles, tugging her hands down either one of her cheeks and no doubt leaving angry red streaks in her wake. That’s good. She’s angry. And confused. And angry. And she’d kind of like to make out with her boyfriend.

This was supposed to be the weekend she got to make out with her boyfriend. And tell her friends that she and Killian had been dating for months.

There’d been a plan.

They'd talked about it.

Nowhere in that plan did either one of them expect their friends to think they were lying.

That’s a confusing sentence. Emma is very confused.

Maybe she’d been onto something with the body-snatching idea before.

“This is insane,” she mutters, mostly to herself and at some point she’s started pacing. “This is—you know Killian and I have been dating for like..a really long time. It’s not like we’ve tried to hide it. You guys are just unobservant.” Ruby doesn’t look convinced. “Name one date you have been on.” “Excuse me?” “One date. Name one date that you have been on with Killian.” “I don’t have to prove myself to you! Or my relationship.” “And yet,” Ruby echoes, expression turning particularly pleased. Emma resists the very real urge to knock her off the counter.

Emma screws her mouth shut, mind racing to find something really good, but she hadn’t been entirely prepared for show-and-tell and the noises in the living room are actually starting to get very loud.

Ruby makes a pitying noise in the back of her throat.

“No, no, no,” Emma stammers, gaping at her and a still-flushed Mary Margaret. “I just—ok, ok, I had that police officer’s dinner. Two weekends ago. Fancy dress and ties were required and all that? Killian came with me.” “As a date?” Mary Margaret asks. “What else would he come as?” “Your friend,” she suggests. “Like he’s done for the last three years.” “Yeah, but there was no ripping off of each other’s clothes those other years! It was—passionate! Heated, even. No, God—Ruby stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

Ruby holds up a hand in what Emma can only assume is surrender, but then she notices just how much her shoulders are shaking and she’s definitely trying not to laugh so, like, game on or whatever. “No, no, definitely not funny,” Ruby agrees. The words wobble out of her. “But like—heated, honestly. You and Jones?” “We can be heated! We can be hot! For each other, specifically.” “Em, this is almost getting embarrassing.”

“I will kick you,” Emma warns. “Like, really hard.” Mary Margaret rests a hand on Emma’s shoulder before she can take another step forward, an expression that’s in the realm of motherly and comforting and it might be the worst thing in the world. At least on Long Island. Possibly the Tri-State area.

“This is not embarrassing,” Mary Margaret promises. “That’s not a word we agreed on.” Emma growls. “So it was preordained?” “We just want to make sure you’re happy. And that you and Killian don’t feel like you need to—” Another shrug. One of them is going to dislocate a shoulder sooner or later. “Put on airs for us. It’s just us. No judging.” “Say that again,” Emma challenges.

Mary Margaret exhales. “We’re not judging. We only have your best interests at heart, both of you. And it’s not as if you two have ever really showed you were interested.” Of all the things that could possibly be the last straw in this conversation, Emma is almost pleasantly surprised to realize it’s that particular sentence.

She rolls Mary Margaret’s hand off her.

“We are constantly touching each other,” she hisses, a little concerned by the red that’s started to cloud the edge of her vision. “He is always putting his arm around me. I sat on his leg when we were drinking before!” “But that’s just normal,” Ruby argues, and Emma genuinely has no idea what she does at that. It hurts, at least, the sound that races out of her and the burst of heat in her chest, which can’t be healthy and presumably is what, finally, draws Killian to the kitchen.

His eyes sweep the scene as soon as he steps on the linoleum floor, one side of his mouth ticking up when he meets Emma’s gaze.

“You ok, love?” “No,” she sneers. “Can you tell these idiots that we’re into each other?” “Wait, what?” Emma waves both her hands again, snarling at her friends. Ruby barely blinks. “We were only telling Emma that we, uh—” “—They don’t think we’re dating,” Emma finishes. Killian freezes. From the top of his head to his obviously sock-covered feet.

He stops and stares and stares some more and then—

He laughs. Loudly. Uproariously. Head thrown back and shoulders heaving, desperately trying to catch his breath while the laughter bounces off the kitchen walls and settles into Emma’s soul, which is admittedly a little melodramatic, but this has been the strangest fifteen minutes of her life and she still really wants to kiss her boyfriend.

It’s nice to know she still has her priorities straight, at least.

“What is happening right now?” Mary Margaret murmurs, as Killian wipes away the tears that have fallen on his cheeks.

“Sucks not to know, doesn’t it?” Emma snaps. “Wait, wait,” Ruby says quickly, “is this laughter at our question or at the prospect of dating Emma, because if it's the second one, that kind of seems like a dick move, Jones.” Killian scoffs, and it only takes three more steps for him to be in Emma’s space with his arm around her shoulder and his lips ghosting over the top of her hair. She widens her eyes at Ruby. “It is not laughter at the prospect of dating my girlfriend, no,” Killian drawls. “Are you double checking on us, Lucas?” “You guys can’t be dating.” “Says who?” “Us,” Ruby cries, nearly falling off the counter when her limbs flail several different directions. “That’s—M’s you’ve got to back me up on this! It’s weird.” “Weird,” Killian echoes. “That I’m dating the person I like?” “When did you start liking Emma?” “I don’t think I have to tell you that.” Ruby lets out a triumphant sound, like she’s won something and Emma can’t imagine what the prize is in this situation, but it might be the genuinely ridiculous amount of alcohol Will and Phillip have seemingly just gotten back with.

“Where is everyone?” Will yells, what looks like an actual crate propped up on his hip. He narrows his eyes when he takes in the kitchen and the half-finished dishes, gaze darting Ruby’s direction.

She curses. Loudly.

“Not exactly subtle, is he?” Killian mutters, mostly to Emma. She turns into his side, curling both arms around his middle, so he’ll kiss the top of her hair again, but maybe to prove a point and Mary Margaret may never stop looking at her feet.

“You guys going to be weird about this?” Will asks. “Now that we know you’re faking?” “No one is faking anything,” Emma objects. “Sure you’re not. Did you come up with a relationship backstory on your way up her? That’s kind of rom-com, don’t you think, Em?” “We didn’t have to come up with anything! We are living the rom-com.” “You and Jones?” “Me and Killian.” “You know you guys only have one bed in your room,” Ruby chips in, apparently missing some form of self-preservation. “Is that going to be a problem?” Killian shakes his head. “We’re definitely going to use that one bed. Thoroughly.” “My brother is here,” Emma mumbles. He smirks at her. “But,” she adds, “we’re definitely going to use that bed. With the condoms that we brought.” Mary Margaret makes a strangled noise, Will chuckling while Ruby continues to curse and David demands to know why isn’t anyone giving me something to drink so I can fuck up Wario right now?

“He brings up a very good point, Swan,” Killian grins, and Mary Margaret sounds like she’s choking now. Serves her right.

Emma hums. “Is that even how the game works?” “Only one way to find out, right?” “Something like that, for sure.” He flashes another smile, eyes bright enough that for half a second Emma forgets everything that’s happened in that kitchen and she still has dishes to watch, pressing up on her toes as soon as Killian ducks his head.

Their friends boo.

She flips them all off.

And it’s honestly not bad for the rest of the night — there are more discussions of how to properly play Mario Party and an almost alarming amount of alcohol, most of it horribly mixed by Aurora and Ruby, but no one mentions fake dating again, and Emma’s grateful for that. Until they all traipse upstairs to go to bed and there’s really only one bed and both Regina and Mary Margaret stare just a little too long before Emma closes the door behind her.

It takes her about fourteen seconds to get mad again. “Go ahead,” Killian chuckles, dropping onto the edge of that one bed so he can tug off his socks. She seriously cannot cope with his socks.

“I’m sorry, what?” “I know you’ve been waiting to curse them up one side and down the other, so let’s have your worst.” “It’s stupid that you know that.”

He nods, lips pursed as he crooks a finger at her. Emma huffs, but moves into the space between his legs almost immediately, Killian’s hands on her hips and hers on his shoulders and she takes far too much joy in how quickly his eyelashes start to flutter. His head falls to her stomach. Top-tier, peak relationship status.

“I know everything,” Killian mumbles, mostly into her shirt. “And I know that it’s ridiculous they think we aren’t in—” She doesn’t dare breathe when he cuts himself off, both of them dancing around something big and important and it’s almost an appropriate amount of time, but Emma is Emma and she doesn’t want to fuck this up and maybe that was why she’d been so nervous to admit that Killian Jones is ridiculously good looking.

Like almost painfully good looking.

She cards her fingers through his hair.

“I have an idea,” he says.

“Yeah?” “I think we should go all in. All those romantic comedy tropes Scarlet was talking about. Lean in to every single one of them.” “How many tropes could there possibly be?” Killian makes a noncommittal noise, glancing up which is really unfair because his eyelashes are almost offensively long. “We’ll make a list.” “Just like that?” “Just like that,” he repeats. “Why? You have other things to do tonight?” “Oh, you’re a menace.” He nips at her hip, Emma jumping and possibly giggling. Killian’s eyes are definitely getting bluer. Maybe it’s the lighting in that room. Their room. Together.

She can’t believe he brought so many socks.

“That will be thing number one, I think,” Killian said. “Blatant and obvious flirting.” “You don’t think we flirt enough?” “Not constantly because we’re not animals, but—you know, could probably do with a bit more. Tell you that I think you’re stunning? Regularly?” Emma gags. Killian keeps going. “Bewitching? That I’m fairly certain your hair has magical properties? Regarding its ability to reflect light?” “Oh, yeah, use that one,” she laughs, and it’s not very hard to get him to lay next to her on the bed. Which may actually be made of feathers, if its overall level of comfort is any indication. “What else, then?” “Endearments, naturally.” “Naturally.” “And, uh—” He clicks his tongue, eyebrows shifting in a way that undoubtedly defies the laws of gravity. “PDA.”

“Say PDA again,” Emma challenges. Killian blushes better than Mary Margaret, she thinks. Presumably because she wants to kiss Killian more than she wants to kiss Mary Margaret.

There’s been a disappointing lack of kissing so far.

“Public displays of affection,” Killian says, pausing between every word until Emma’s whole body shakes with the force of her laughter. “I’m going to constantly touch you.” “Could be worse.” “Oh yeah?” “I mean—” Emma drags her fingers up his side, shifting his shirt until she reaches skin and the plane of his stomach and— “Shit, stop that,” Killian grumbles. “It tickles.” Emma’s eyes widen. In perfect tandem with what feels like a rather large expansion of her heart, another burst of heat that isn’t quite as jarring as it was in the kitchen. And Killian shifts half an inch backwards. “Don’t,” he warns, but Emma swipes her tongue across her teeth. “Swan, c’mon, that’s—” Pouncing is a very ugly word, but Emma is way too busy discovering other areas of her boyfriend's body and Killian stops talking rather quickly. As soon as her tongue is in his mouth.

And they do make a list. An actual physical list, with bullet points and a plan, that Killian keeps in his pocket because Emma doesn’t have pockets in her dresses and it’s easier for his hand to squeeze her knee if she wears dresses.

That’s bullet point number six.

There are seventeen.

It becomes something of a game for them — Killian making sure to call Emma love at the end of what seems like every sentence, while she alternates between babe and sweetheart, but that second one kind of sets her teeth on edge and, one time, on Saturday afternoon while they’re picking badminton teams because that’s something they do on this weekend, he calls her—

“C’mon, darling,” Killian says, slinging an arm around Emma’s shoulders. “We’re going to absolutely destroy Nolan and Nolan.”

Every one of their friends groan.

Emma very nearly passes out.

The word ricochets off her soul, or something less ridiculous. Even after Killian and David finish debating the proper terminology for the shuttle-thing. She’s never been a darling before. Darling is for committed relationships and longevity and happily ever after and her racquet nearly flies out of her hand when she tries to return Mary Margaret’s serve.

“You ok, Swan?” Killian asks, and good that’s good. A much-needed return to normal.

Emma nods. She can’t seem to do much else.

Somehow they win the match. David decrees it’s called a match.

And Killian seems to take the public displays of affection fairly seriously — pulling Emma onto his legs when they sit around the fire on Saturday night, nosing at the back of her neck or that one spot just above her shoulder blade that makes her shiver. She almost constantly has her fingers in his hair, tracing idle patterns with her nails. There are absent-minded kisses and kisses that make her toes curl, standing on sand or in the hallway or...well, anywhere really.

It’s something almost close to wonderful, which isn’t really a change of pace for Emma and Killian as a couple, but this level of couple’dom is—

“You’re laughing,” he accuses, but the words get lost between their mouths and there's not much space between their mouths.

Emma shakes her head. “I’m having fun.” “That was the point of this weekend. It always is.”

“Yeah, but I mean—” She grits her teeth, neves creeping up her spine and taking root in the back of her skull, and she hates that it happens. Emma is the worst kind of pessimist. Or, rather the best kind, depending on how you look at it.

“I like you too,” Killian says.

“Presumptuous.” “Tell me that’s now how the sentence was going to end, then.” “Well, ok yeah, but—this is just...being full-on relationship, it’s been good, right?” “Are you double checking?” “A little,” Emma admits. “I—this was the plan, and I know it was the plan. That we were going to stop trying to hide and—”

“—I really don’t think we were ever good at hiding it.” “Tell that to the rest of our friends. Mary Margaret and Ruby staged an intervention. It’s...I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m glad you were willing to prove how stupid into me you are.”

Killian barks out a laugh, tongue finding the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, that’s totally what I am.” “I knew it.”

Those same friends, however, don’t seem to get the memo.

Maybe they need new friends.

“I don’t know,” Will says, halfway through a Sunday afternoon BBQ that could feed a small army. “I’m still calling shenanigans.” “Shenanigans,” Emma echoes.

“You heard me the first time. It seems like you’re trying too hard.” “To be in a relationship?” “Yuh huh,” Will nods, flipping more than one burgers at the same time. “You see that? That was impressive as fuck.” “You’re a poet,” Killian mutters. He must have some kind of Emma-focused sixth sense too, because she feels an arm curl around her middle before she can get into any sort of pacing groove, grunting when he pulls her back against his chest.

And kisses behind her ear.

Regina quirks an eyebrow. “I don’t know, actually. There has been a pretty good amount of eye making, even before we got here.”

“I don’t make eyes,” Emma argues. “No, but he does.” Killian’s cheek brushes the side of Emma’s head when he nods. “That’s true, I’ve been making eyes for quite some time.”

“See,” Regina says, “This is—if this is fake, it’s a serious commitment to the cause.” “The cause of kissing my boyfriend?” Emma challenges.

“Yeah, that one. Ok, pop quiz. Killian, when was your first kiss with Emma?” He doesn’t tense. He doesn’t flinch. His hand might tighten a little, but Emma chooses to believe that’s actually a positive and she’s very glad for it. If only because that’s the main reason she stays upright.

“Junior year of college,” Killian replies.

Will drops the tongs. It’s patently absurd.

“Hold on, when?” David demands. He’s already half standing when Mary Margaret levels him with a look, flopping back into the plastic chair with enough force it nearly breaks. “Junior year of college. I thought you started dating a few months ago.” “Yeah, we did.” “And?”

“And,” Killian repeats. “We’d gone out, you and Mary Margaret left early. So I walked Emma back to her apartment, it was raining. We hit all of those rom-com tropes. She even had my jacket on.” Emma can’t catch her breath. Which is really ridiculous since she’s not moving, but she was always fairly positive she was the only one counting this as their first kiss and—

“You were drunk,” she cries. “You can’t possibly remember this!” Mary Margaret audibly gasps. That’s more ridiculous than Emma’s breathing issues.

She twists against Killian’s chest, meeting his steady gaze with something that can only be described as ever-increasing and seemingly inevitable insanity. He smirks.

The bastard.

“Trust me,” he says, “I’ve spent way longer than I’d be willing to admit remembering just that. You took your shoes off as soon as we got into the lobby.” “Because they hurt my feet.” “Mmhm.” “What happened after that?” Aurora asks sharply, elbows on her knees and chin on her hands and no one has noticed that some of the hot dogs are starting to burn.

“She’s a very good kisser,” Killian replies. Easy as that. Emma’s back to not breathing. “Told me it was nice that I walked her home, I said I probably deserved some kind of reward, she glared at me, I waited very patiently and she—” Emma remembers the rest. She doesn't need to hear it. She reenacts it, instead. Her hands fly to his shirt, fingers curling into fabric that’s different than it was when they were twenty and buzzed on alcohol that was only marginally worse than what they’ve spent all weekend drinking and Killian is absolutely smiling when she kisses him.

The bastard.

Part two.

And she resolutely refuses to acknowledge any sounds from the peanut gallery, pushing up on bare feet so it’s easier to sling an arm over his shoulder and push her fingers into his hair. He tilts his head, lets his tongue sweep along her lips and she might sigh, but he might also groan and he definitely closes his eyes.

Emma’s always liked that about him. Killian closes his eyes when he kisses her — like he’s uninterested in anything else, like anything else means less than nothing when he can nose at Emma’s cheek or drop his mouth along the curve of her jaw. It also gives her half a second to stare at the overall length of his eyelashes, so it’s kind of a win-win for her.

He’s just as out of breath as she is when they pull apart, color in his cheeks and Emma’s heart threatens to burst out of her ribcage.

That’s probably not covered under incidentals either.

She’s got to stop thinking so violently. Especially about her own body.

Will whistles.

“You guys suck,” Emma announces, and that’s not the first thing she planned on saying, but nothing has really gone according to plan that weekend and she has thoughts on that.

Patent pending.

“First of all,” she says, holding up one finger. Will is trying very hard not to laugh. Ruby isn’t trying. “Killian and I have been dating for months. Genuinely months. And, ok, yeah we kissed one time in college, but we didn’t start dating for awhile, and that—”

Emma is still holding up her finger when she turns again. Killian’s smirk is going to stay permanently etched on his face. “That was kind of stupid, wasn’t it?” “Your words, not mine,” he chuckles.

“I definitely thought you were good looking in college.” “I desperately wanted to date you in college.” “No shit.” “What is happening right now?” Phillip yells. Emma doesn’t have an answer for that. It’s less disappointing than it was on Friday night.

“No shit,” Killian repeats. “You were—I don’t know, this force of nature. But you were also David’s sister and—” “—She’s still my sister,” David interrupts. Regina throws something at him. It might honestly be her sandal.

Emma doesn’t bother double checking. She’s rather busy swooning, after all.

Killian kisses the bridge of her nose before he continues. “You never take anyone’s garbage, love. Mine included and that wasn’t really why I was stupid into you, but it was a big part at the start, and then we kept hanging out and you’re—” She doesn’t mind when he shrugs. Probably because of the previously discussed swooning. Honestly, Emma is swooning so bad. “You’re the smartest person I know. And stronger than anyone else, on some existential level.” God, she hopes she doesn’t start to cry.

That’d be kind of lame.

And, somehow, there is more.

“I worry about you, you know. Every time you leave my apartment and go save someone. It’s—I count minutes from when you text me that you’re on the train until I hear the lock click. It’s insane. Might be affecting my blood pressure, really.” “She has a key,” Ruby whispers. Not very well, but something about the thought Emma assumes. “She really has a key?” “I really have a key,” Emma answers. “I wasn’t kidding about spending multiple nights a week at his apartment.” “We could probably do something about that,” Killian adds. Will whistles again.

Emma’s jaw drops. That’s kind of disappointing, really. She wishes she had some kind of sweeping something to respond with — romance on another level of romantic-type expectations, but she’s still her and she’s still a little pissed they haven’t been dating since their junior year in college.

“Em, Em,” Ruby presses, “I’m pretty sure he’s asking you to move in with him.” Killian hums. “She’s annoying, but she’s right.” Ruby sticks her tongue out. “But, but,” Emma stammers, “that wasn’t on the list.” “You guys made a list?” Regina balks. “None of you believed us! Which, honestly friendship demerits. Negative friendship standing. We are a good couple, and we like hanging out and we’d been hanging out forever, and this just kind of...happened. It should have happened before, maybe, but our first date was getting ice cream in the Village because none of you will go to the Village with me and I—Killian always will.” “That’s kind of how boyfriend’ing works,” he chuckles. “Is that a word?” “Absolutely not,” Mary Margaret says. “Should we apologize now?” “Probably,” Emma sighs. “Because it’s—none of this has been fake, and we’ve been on relationship overdrive for the last forty-eight hours and I mean...is it so shocking that we could be in a relationship?”

Silence.

None of them answer, and Killian is still staring at Emma because, she realizes rather belatedly, she hasn’t actually told him she wants to move into his apartment with a bed that’s even more comfortable than the one here or that she also counts down the minutes because she sleeps better with him than she has in years, so naturally she tilts her head up and—

“I love you,” Emma says. Killian’s eyes bug. “And I think I have for a really long time, but we were always friends and—” “—That’s not going to change, love.” “Well, yeah, that’s how good relationships work. Are you just going to gloss over the sentiment?” “Absolutely not,” Killian mumbles, gruffer than usual. And probably because half of the letters get lost in more kissing, a distinct arch to Emma’s back when he actually dips her like some goddamn romantic comedy.

Mary Margaret might take a picture.

Emma kind of hopes she does. It’d look good in a frame on the wall. Their wall.

“I’d like to move into your apartment,” Emma says, and she definitely giggles that time. There’s no way around it, not when Killian’s lips drag along the side of her neck and pepper every inch of her face.

Several people awwww out loud.

As they should, really.

“I love you too,” Killian says.

“Ok, good.” “Good.”

There’s more kissing after that. As there should be, really. Part two. “So, uh,” Will says, and he’s picked up the tongs at some point, “you guys want celebratory hamburgers or…” “If you don’t put cheese on my burger, I’ll throw your fucking tongues in the ocean,” Emma guarantees.

Killian crows. Or something. It’s nice, and that’s really all she cares about. “That’s my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ruby groans. “We’ve heard. Do we toast to the happy couple?” “Absolutely,” David says, reaching into the cooler to grab wine coolers. Like they’re juniors in college. They toast several times.

And Emma doesn’t sleep much that night, but that’s something she’s willing to concede. Especially when Killian lets her pick the music on the drive back the next morning.

Like any good relationship.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #i did this instead of working #and because it was sunny outside

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nctwd127 · 4 years

Text

Arranged Marriage.

Chapter Fourteen.

Word Count: 3218

Yuta and I have not spoken a single word to each other since the day I yelled at him and it’s been two weeks now. Living in the same place as taken its toll on us. We avoid being home as much as possible, whenever I’m there, he’s usually not. And when he’s there, I try my best to not be.

He’s given my space and privacy back for the most part, he doesn’t pester around at the end of the day on campus anymore. During the first lesson, he either doesn’t show up or when he does, I sit in the front of the class. His eyes still burn the back of my head but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

Doyoung has left us, well me. The pain was far too much for him to handle and he just couldn’t do it anymore. He tried hard to maintain the friendship with me but it was no use. There were habits we couldn’t break and work past.

He stopped joining us for lunch and at the parking lot. He maintained his friendships with Hendery and Ten, of course, they were friends long before me and I hoped that would always be the case. I’d give up my boys for their friendship.

For some reason though, he didn’t try at all to make a friendship with Lucas outside of me. Hendery and Ten always tried reassuring me that they were too different to be friends, but I knew them far too well to know that they were lying.

Lucas made his own place in our little group because he never intended filling in the place that was left empty. I felt he was more carefree and just more him now that Doyoung was away from us, from me. And that was weird to notice at first but I just ignored it because I’m sure that wasn’t the case.

As for him and I, we were spending more time together, with the boys and alone. We spent most of the afternoons together away in our little hidden location. After the first time, the hand holding became something frequent till it became a habit. And now whenever we were alone, our hands naturally lace together.

The forehead kisses were my favorite but he didn’t do it often as I’d like him too. Ten and Hendery asked me often, I don’t know if they asked him though, if there was something going on between us or if we liked each other.

My answer was always the same, no there is nothing and no there is no feelings.

I don’t know if I was lying or not to be honest. And I don’t know what he thinks either. We just enjoyed being around each other and the chemistry that’s between us. Now if it was just friend wise or more, I don’t know. But with everything going on, I don’t have the time to even consider thinking about feelings.

The forsaken wedding is to take place in three weeks. I’ve done everything in my power to try and stop it but nothing. In the last two weeks, I have met with my parents and the Nakamaoto’s to convince them in some kind of way to not let this happen. To please stop this and find some other way to get what they want with the company.

But nothing. Even now that I wasn’t with Doyoung, they still threatened his future. Everyone’s was still on the line until the day Yuta and I say, “I do.” There was nothing more I could do, it was all useless.

They have everything sorted already, the day, the venue, the guest list, basically and literally everything. The only thing Yuta and I have to do is, choosing our garments and show up. That is literally it. Everything about this stupid wedding was chosen for us, for me.

Which if I really think about it, that’s fine because I want nothing of mine to be put into a wedding I never wanted and know will never mean anything.

Right now, it was a Monday night and I was sitting in the library looking over a dress magazine, to see if any of them sparked an interest for me. Spoiler alert, they didn’t. How was I supposed to find a dress that did anything for me when I didn’t want to marry?

Being so engrossed in the magazine, I didn’t realize the door was being opened till I heard his voice.

“Jesus, you fucking scared me.” Yuta had his hand to his chest. I looked up from the magazine, our gazes meeting. “Eh, sorry I think?”

“I thought I was home alone. Since all the lights were off when I came home an hour ago.” He explained for me scaring him. He had fully walked in and closed the door before taking a seat in one of the bean bag chairs that was across from me.

He was facing me and all I did was stare at him. This is the most we have looked and talked to each other in the two weeks. So it felt weird and uncomfortable.

“I heard you come home but I assumed you knew I was here since my car is here.”

“Usually your car is but you’re not.” Yuta pointed out, looking at the clothes I wore as my pajamas. A large t-shirt and short shorts that basically did nothing and could wear as underwear if I tried hard enough.

“Oh, well here I am.” I gave him the cat smile and went back to the magazine as he started reading his book. I felt his gaze on me whenever I flipped the page and sighed out loud. There was no dress that called my attention. I don’t think there ever will be.

“Yuta, you keep staring at me like that and one day I might just combust.” I told him not looking up from a dress that seemed to be a little fitting for my liking but not enough. He chuckled and closed his book.

“Sorry, it’s just that, you’re looking at dresses.” He started. “It just makes me realize how much closer it is now.” There was a tone in his voice that made me sad, he sounded almost hopeful.

If only he could remember the times we jokingly promised that someday we would get married, married for real, not because someone was forcing us too. Married because there was love there, real love. The love that filled our hearts with nothing but happiness.

“Unfortunately so. I’m sure they kept you up to date with the all the meetings I’ve had with them about stopping this. Of course to no avail, seeing as I’m looking for a stupid dress.” I sighed and closed the magazine, tossing it to the side. I look at that thing any longer and my head will fall off.

“Do you think you could ever accept this?” He wondered getting up from his seat and taking the seat next to me on the couch.

My feet were resting on the side he sat on but instead of pushing them off, he pulled them onto his lap. He didn’t touch me more after that though, just moved his hands to his side.

His question had me thinking about it longer than I liked. I knew I couldn’t, ever. It was torture living like this, fighting, not speaking for weeks, walking on eggshells on everything I did. This isn’t how I wanted to live and he wasn’t who I wanted to make a future with, not anymore.

He hasn’t been for a long time.

The constant reminder of what we had following me around everywhere I went was too much. The pain and misery I’ve had to endure since this stupid thing happened was unbearable, I could feel my sanity escaping me again.

As much as I wanted too, I couldn’t escape the memories. The dreams started again, every night twisting and turning in my sleep, sweat covering my whole being as the years played themselves over and over again like a broken record.

My heart never healed and now I know it never will. For this cut was far too deep for any stitches to ever make a difference.

“No.” I mumbled pulling my legs off and getting up. “I never will.”

Without looking back, I left the library letting him sit there alone with his own thoughts and emotions. I made it to the bottom of the stairs before I heard Yuta running down the hall to catch up to me.

My foot rested on the first step when his hand landed on my shoulder, turning me around to face him. Looking at him now, he looked tried, like he wasn’t getting much sleep these days. His usual silky skin was pale and washed out. His hair wasn’t as fluffy and full of volume like it normally was. It was flat and oily looking.

What I didn’t know was that, while I was suffering in my own silence and drowning in the memories, he was too. The dreams started to become persistent for him as well. He couldn’t understand what the dreams meant, it didn’t make sense for him to be dreaming about me as much as he was.

Everything he saw, felt real as if it had actually happened, like he lived every moment that was presented to him. But of course, with no memory, how could he know it was real? He was confused and felt like he was losing his own mind.

Yuta started to feel like there was a piece of him missing. He couldn’t understand it but he started to feel things he hadn’t in a long time. He felt like he was starting to have feelings for me and he didn’t like that. Because he didn’t want to do that to himself again.

We confessed to each other in the span of our three month relationship, the months he forgot. After the accident and with his memories gone, I thought he wouldn’t remember the feelings he had for me. But he did, but never got the chance to tell me.

I erased myself from his life without warning, without reason, without even a small goodbye. I just stopped being there. I acted as if he didn’t even exist in my life anymore.

He suffered on his own for a long time too. Once he was finally moving past the broken relationship, well the version he knew, he got the biggest blow yet. I started dating Doyoung.

Even if it was after three years, his heart ached to know that he wouldn’t be the one to have me, to hold and love me. In his heart, Yuta believed that it should have been him to have me in all my glory first, not Doyoung. And the fact that he wasn’t my first, hurt his pride and ego. And only fueled the hate he had against Doyoung more.

Completely wrong of course, Yuta was and will always be my first. He just, can’t remember it.

~ Soon he’ll know the truth. ~

Yuta wanted me back, no matter how it happened. Even if it meant having to marry, then so be it. He still wanted the company, that was never a doubt but what he wanted most was me. Even if he didn’t have feelings for me at the beginning of this, he still wanted me.

“Why not? Why can’t you accept this?”

The look in his eyes confused me because they looked so hurt and confused. It was weirdly enough tugging at my heart strings and I don’t like that. I don’t ever want to feel what I did again. I can’t. My heart wasn’t for him anymore.

“For reasons you’ll never understand Yuta. I just can’t.” I explained.

His facial expression changed, leaving behind the look hurt and replacing it with anger. “It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it? Is that why you can’t accept this? Why you can’t accept me?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

I was taken aback by his sudden outburst that I involuntary backed away from him. Doyoung’s name to be dropped in this conversation, wasn’t was I was expecting.

“This has nothing to do with anyone but myself. I told you, I just can’t. Don’t do this right now.” I calmly told him despite feeling my heart pick up speed.

That only seemed to have pissed him off more. “Is he the reason you left me? Is he the reason you just walked out of my life?” Yuta’s voice started to pick up in volume. He ruffled his hair and stepped away from me for a moment just staring at me.

Then and only then is when I finally understood the hurt I caused him. I broke his heart the way he broke mine, neither of us aware that it had even happened.

“What are you even saying? I didn’t know him-“

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” He interrupted me. “You erased me from your life and right after that, you started hanging with him and the other two bozos.”

“Look, I’m not doing this right now. You need to calm down and just I don’t know, sleep or something. You look exhausted Yuta.” I insisted, stepping up the stairs slowly.

Every step I took up, he did too. His eyes became dark and hooded, the anger slowly creeping up on him. Instead of it’s usual fast track attack on his nerves.

I decided to not run but to keep moving away from him, this was becoming too much. We haven’t talked in two weeks and now we were going to end up fighting and arguing again.

By the time I reached my door, he was breathing down on me. I don’t even know how he got right in front of me but here he was. I didn’t dare step into my room, knowing that the next move I took would set him off. So I stayed put staring at his chest while he decided what he wanted to do.

What I didn’t expect was for him to hug me and pull me into him. His body felt overly hot, like he was on fire. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do so I just hugged him back, feeling how his body untensed under my hold. It felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on him.

~ He was. The weight of the memories slowly making their way back to him. ~

“I need you.” Yuta whispered in my hair, his hands going down my back to my lower waist before he cupped my ass. “Jump.”

Before I knew it, my legs were wrapped around his waist and my back was against the wall with his face buried in my neck. I tugged at the end of his hair, trying to pull his face away from my neck.

“No marks, please.” I whimpered when he bite into my skin.

“Why not? It wasn’t a problem before. Is there someone that it will bother if there was?” He snapped letting go of me completely. The way he emphasized someone made it clear he was talking about someone specific and I knew exactly who.

Lucas.

This wasn’t a conversation I was ready or willing to have with him, I turned to face my room. He gripped my forearm to stop me, “I wasn’t done.” Whatever he was going through, it was taking its toll on him. It was eating away at him, very slowly.

He pulled me back to him and cupped my face. There was so much going on in his eyes, the emotions swirled around like tornado, none of them stay put for more than a second at a time. He looked so tired, he was so tired.

Yuta took care of me once, so I’ll do it for him once too.

For the first time, I made the move and connected our lips. His response was slow but then he finally reacted the proper way. Pulling him into me by his neck, caught him off guard and we stumbled back into the wall. He laughed into the kiss, “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that.” He apologized, resting his forehead on mine.

“Let me take care of you tonight, please.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him into his bedroom. He stood in the middle of his room as I pulled the covers of his bed, making it ready for him to crawl into bed. I moved his pillows around, the way I knew he liked them.

“I’m going to take a shower first. I’ll be right back.” He announced, watching me do something he’s felt I’ve done a million times but was sure this was the first time. I hummed nodding my head in response, not looking at him, still doing my thing.

While Yuta stepped out, I just looked around his room. This boy didn’t seem to have changed at all in the years that have passed. His mini bookshelf was filled with the manga’s he liked so much. His desk organized to his liking. Some clothes were scattered around the floor but nothing to messy.

The book on his desk caught my attention, simply because it was one of my favorites. And also, it was my copy that I had left in the library a while ago. I sat in his chair and opened it to where he had last left off.

Wish I hadn’t when a Polaroid of us fell out from in between the pages. Turning the book to face down so he wouldn’t lose his place, I picked up the small rectangle. I had my eyes closed with my hands covering my mouth as Yuta kissed my rosy cheek, a wide and bright smile on his lips.

“Come on, let me take a picture of us!” Yuta whined pulling my arm. I was in a fit of giggles because of him. Picture taking was never really my thing and now that he wanted to take my picture, made me giddy and shy.

“No, I’m shy.” I argued back, trying to pout at him. He squished my cheeks and gave me a peck. “I don’t care, just take one picture with me.” He argued back only causing me to laugh more. He started to just take random pictures of me.

Flash after flash blinded my vision for a moment so I closed my eyes. He took advantage of the moment and took the picture he wanted.

“Yes!” He shouted satisfied with his victory, “I got it. Look, it’s cute.” He shook it a little more and then the picture became clear. “It is cute, I want it.” I said reaching out for it but he took it out of my reach before I was able to get it.

“No, this one is mine. You can have this one.”

Before I could ask which one, his lips meet mine and the click of the camera went off, followed by the flash.

Now that I think about it, I have no idea who kept it or where that picture is. The rest of them were with me, I knew that much.

“You know, I don’t remember taking that picture.”

Masterlist

~~~~

Next week’s chapter will have a semi-r*pe scene in it and I want everyone to please be aware of that. For more details about that, please look at the announcement post on the Masterlist, thank you.

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tobiomlk · 4 years

Note

those tsukki fluff hcs? i am LIVING. could i get general dating hcs for tobio? 👉👈 good luck with your blog - 🐸

— kageyama as your boyfriend

LISTEN kageyama has a condition where brain is filled by (2) things: volleyball and food. relationships? that doesn’t exists. you’re gonna need either a miracle or a saint’s patience to get anywhere with this nerd, whichever works best for you.

i hope you’re well aware that your luck is on a negative count from the get-go, since 1) his knowlodge about romance is next to none and 2) he’s dense as fuck. even if he’s the one to develop feelings first, he wouldn’t act on those any sooner because he doesn’t even gets what’s going on. he just goes ( ??? ) whenever you smile at him and there’s this funny feeling around his ribcage and he’s 100% sure it’s hunger. so, unless you have the guts to fess up first… get ready to simp over this boy for the longest time.

that or until his teammates ( namely, suga ) do a divine intervention ‘cause damn, he’s so grossly in love, and if kageyama was already in the dark we fucking lost him, because what does it means to be in love??? that’s not a position or a game tactic as far as he’s concerned.

he even goes as far as to seek the textbook definition on dictionaries and spiel to himself like a damned mantra in the hopes he’ll get it but guess what? he doesn’t. if anything, he just further confused with the poor intent of describing such abstract concept with big words.

the whole process of realization is so agonizing and infuriatingly slow, it has gotten to the point where all da fucking team is up to date with the tragedy and they’re even making bets as to how it’s going to end ( tanaka and noya are putting all their money to kageyama not ever knowing about his feelings, ennoshita and the third-graders still have a bit of hope for their son. the first-graders are just enjoying the shitshow. )

but when it finally hits him… that there’s no better place than the one by your side and he couldn’t possibly have it otherwise… then it’s over for both of you.

once tobio is set his way, there’s no stopping him. hell, he might as well blurt it out as soon as he sees you, for all he cares. “it seems like i’ve fallen in love with you”.

but now you returning his feelings??? the most unrealistic and unlikiest scenario. his monkey brain definitively didn’t think out this far and now he’s in shambles. you’ve to spent half of an hour explaining to him that, all of it apparently means that you can be “a couple or something” and you can literally see his braincells combusting through his eyes.

are you going to clown him for his confession for the rest of his life? yes. do you hold the moment close to your heart regardless? Yes You Do.

needless to say, kageyama as a partner is awfully awkward. the boy’s barely familiar with platonic relationships, dating it’s like walking blindfolded onto unknown territory. he’s going to need you to teach him the ropes !!! ( not that you’re complaining, of course you’re not complaining )

being as unapproachable and volleyball-crazy as he’s known to be, i think many people depict kageyama as someone who doesn’t fully invests himself onto his social relations, especially the non-platonic field; because yes, to kageyama, volleyball comes first and foremost, but he’s just as devoted and earnest when it comes to his teammates and friends, and more importantly, you. once there’s something that means a lot to kageyama, he’ll give everything he has to offer, and you aren’t the exception to the rule.

while volleyball still takes most of his time and that won’t change under no circumstances, you can tell he does his best to spend the scarce time he has to spare with you. juggling between his passion and his loved one is not an easy task, but kageyama knew what he was applying himself for and there’s no way he’ll be half-assing, no sir!

at the very least, he always makes sure to walk you home. even if that means he’ll have to return afterwards to the gym, because he always trains ‘til very late and there’s no way he’s gonna keep you waiting that long for him ( you keep telling him it’s fine, that you don’t mind waiting, but he doesn’t relents “no. im taking you home first, then practice. and that’s final. now come here, dumbass.” )

he also calls you every single night before heading to sleep! he can’t stay long on the phone because he needs to go to bed early for morning practice, but just being able to hear your voice… to know about you and your day… is more than enough for him.

honestly it never fails to melt your heart when he begins talking in this raspy, low voice and you can tell he’s sleepy by the way he mumbles his words so you tell him that it’s ok for him to go to sleep now but he just shakes his head in spite of the fact you can’t see him and goes like “i still have a couple of minutes left. i want to hear your voice.” like honestly GET FUCKED !!!!!! HE’S SO LOVELY I’M-

kageyama understands if you have different interests and things you’re passionated about ( in fact, he’ll even try it out just so he can something to share with you! ), but, truly, nothing would make this blueberry as happier than you showing the tiniest bit of interest into volleyball. sometimes, the topic creeps onto your talk and unavoidably, tobio switchs to full nerd mode and starts geeking out about the matches and stuff and he’s just so giddy about it but then he freezes, and realizes he might be info-dumping you about something you probably don’t even care about, so he kinda cuts himself before going on… but the look of sheer happiness he offers you when you encourage him to go on? how his big, doe-eyes lit up once you ask him to explain you more carefully? can you possibly fathom how joyous it makes him to know he can get the best of his favorite things together?

to be honest, you’d expect him to be less considerate and act more fit of the self-centered, entitled king role he has been granted— not saying that he doesn’t slips and has his bossy moments of no filter, because he does, but the thing is: he’s surprisingly open to your opinions, too. over time, he’s been taught that communication is of utmost importance and the only way to understand others and have them understand you, and he’s firmly sure that applies to every aspect of his life. he wants you to know that, just as he speaks his mind, you’re free to do the same.

it’s ok if you argue, it’s ok if your points of view don’t match, because that means you’re talking to each other, and that’s way better than letting things sink without actual closure. kageyama learnt that the rough way. his speech might not be the most articulated or refinated, but he tries his best to get his points accross without unecessarily hurting your feelings. communication is so crucial to him, please, keep it in mind.

with that being said, kageyama’s prone to be unromantic and even insensitive at times with how he voices his opinions, because he’s no concept of sugar-coating and won’t hesitate to tell you if you suck at something, or flawlessly ignore your efforts to put on a lovey-dovey mood. but if you talk him about it and express that you’d like him to have some more tact, he’ll take the note! “tact? ok, ok. i’ll. try to be as tactful as possible from now on and… read the mood? but i make no promises” ( spoiler alert: he keeps telling you that you suck but now he lets you have a sip of his milk and pets your head to soften the blow. )

and speaking of physical affection… god, kageyama is an utter stranger to pda. i mean, the boy is just a prude, unripe blueberry. he doesn’t know how it works, he’s not used to it, and the last thing he wants is to go and do something that’ll put you on a tough spot. your comfort is one of his main priorities, so you have to let him know what’s ok and whatnot, then he’ll start getting the hang of it. once he does, you’ll find out that kageyama is, as a matter of fact, one of the most touch-starved persons you’ll come accross with.

he just can’t seem to get his hands off of you, in the most literal and non-sensual way possible. be it small gestures like your hands brushing together, shoulders bumping, or your heads resting against each others’, kageyama just craves the feeling of your skin against his. despite how bad he denies it, he’s pretty clingy.

you’ve picked on how much he apparently enjoys holding hands, and petting your head, for that matter. you don’t know why, but his hand would always makes its way atop your head. it has even gotten to the point in where he does it out of habit, and when you ask him what’s wrong he just replies “nothing? why do you ask?”

i think kageyama has two stages while he’s on a relationship. the earlier ones, where he cannot lock eyes with you for more than give seconds before going all blushy and stiff, and the advanced ones, in where physical contact has practically become a must and one of his primary functions as a human being to operate naturally.

kageyama’s hugs are so freaking awkward at first… there’s no guides about this. does he just envelops you with his arms ??? and then stay still like that ??? what if he hurts you by holding you too tight ??? oh my god he’s even holding his breath while he’s at it SOMEONE FREE HIM-

and don’t even get me started on the kisses. LISTEN YOU DEFINITIVELY CLASH YOUR TEETH DURING YOU FIRST KISS AND YOU ABSOLUTELY CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND ON THIS ONE !!!!! knowing him, he needs weeks of mental preparation and advice from his god-send suga-senpai before going for it, and when the moment comes… he goes too hard for literally no reason and right after you’re both on the floor whimpering ‘cause that shit HURTED.

“ow, ow… tobio WHAT the HELL” “oh, PISS OFF”

well, at least he has an excuse for rehearsing!!! don’t worry, he’s a fast-learner ;))))

cuddling is just about the same you guys spend all day squirming in order to find a comfortable position and it’s just a mess™ of limbs and giggles.

“wait… maybe if i put my arm around here…” “wait, tobio, you’re tickling me-” “??? don’t laugh !!! STOP LAUGHING THIS IS NOT FUNNY”

but once you finally manage to settle down, god, it’s so pure… kageyama loves to have you in his beefy, setter arms as much as he loves being hold by you. the crook of your neck? a heavingly place for him to rest his head and which belongs to him and him only !!!

look kageyama is so weak for physical affection i’m not even kidding. all you need to calm him down is to rub his back soothingly and he’ll even forget why he was so mad about to begin with. the amount of power you hold over this boy… it genuinely surprises people to see how tame he’s when it comes to you. everyone can agree that if kageyama has a weakness, that’s you.

tobio is not the one to get particularly cheesy or romantic, everyone knows at least that much. however, he has this thing in where he genuinely voices out how great he considers you to be without batting an eyelash which of course makes you super flustered because “why are you getting so cheeky for?” “??? it’s the truth though” SHUT UP IM SOBBING.

you know how slow and oblivious your boy is, so the last thing you expect is him being able to read you as easily? it takes its sweet time, but within the years, kageyama steadily learns to understand you and how do you operate. your habits, your body language, what makes you happy or upset, he knows all of it. he can tell when something’s off just from a glance, yet he’s so nonchalant about it— like it’s obvious to know what’s on your mind. now, does he know how to act knowing this? not really, but give him props, he tries his best!

with all that has happened to him, it should come as no surprise the fact kageyama can get pretty insecure in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t trusts or you ( god, the boy could trust you with his life ), but you can’t blame him for letting his insecurities get the best of him. he’s just so, so afraid… that one day you’ll notice how unlikeable he truly is and you end up leaving him, like most of the people have done to him in his life…

tobio desesperately needs the reasurrance, the words of affirmation, to bask on the feeling of knowing he’s so deeply loved, and that he’s no such thing as an unlovable person. i hope you let him know that, just as he lets you know how grateful he’s for having you in his life.

all in all, kageyama can be a blunt, awkward and more than a bit dense partner, but he’s striving to become a better version of himself day by day, so, he secretely wishes you’ll put up with him a little longer.

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

Note

Okay ONE MORE because I'm needy. “Ring the bells that can still ring. Forget your perfect offering. There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” For Garcy or Asher/Maria.

The Engineering & Aerospace Technical and Industrial Summit’s keynote opening address is held in the New York Hall of Science, and starts four minutes past nine AM on April 28, 1972. Maria is in the audience with the others, Lockman lanyard around her neck, notepad and number-two pencils at the ready. As promised, it’s a notably international gathering. President Nixon’s groundbreaking visit to China in February means that a group of student engineers from Beijing have been granted permission to attend, and they sit together in a self-contained huddle, with wary glances at the others. There are Mexicans, several Brits (instantly recognizable as they moan about the quality of the conference-supplied tea) and a decent selection of Western European intelligentsia. There are also some who may well be from the other side of the wall. Maria has heard snatches of German, something that might be Polish, and other Eastern Bloc languages, though nobody is dumb enough to openly speak Russian. The fact of this being conceived as a showpiece for the promotion and exchange of advanced American technological prowess means that it is also a possible target for the Soviets. There are a few ordinary-looking men in plainclothes, occasionally wandering up to random delegates and making friendly conversation, who Maria suspects of being CIA.

The keynote address is dull, but Maria takes dutiful notes. There are three more days of panels and papers to go, and the morning proceeds as you would expect. Weedy men in badly fitting suits struggle with their slide projectors, and drone on about bogglingly obscure minutiae in commercial combustion engine design. Even some of the other Lockman delegates are yawning, but Maria pays intent attention, and not just because it’s her job. She’s good at this, she knows she is, and she translates some of the more obtuse mathematical formulas into plain English before she hands them over to the men, who are supposed to understand better than she does, but don’t actually. Shocking.

Lunch is held in the cafeteria, a not-terribly-appetizing selection on offer, and Maria wrinkles her nose at whatever is pretending to be beef stroganoff on her plate. As she’s trying to decide whether she wants to eat it, a voice says, “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

She looks up with a start. She thought it would be one of the Lockman engineers, but it’s not. The man is tall, lean, a few years older than her, and wearing a trim blue blazer, a tie, and slacks that actually fit. He does not have one of those disagreeable mustaches; he’s clean-shaven, and his hair is thick and dark and prone to flip over his forehead. His eyes are dark too, lively and intelligent, and his strong nose suggests southeastern Europe, as does his accent. The badge around his neck reads Jugoslovenski Aerotransport. JAT, the national airline of Yugoslavia. He might be into those very engines.

Maria is surprised – yes, there is open space at the table, but there are spots at other tables too. Presumably he should be sitting with the rest of JAT, as she should be with the rest of Lockman, but she makes a small gesture, inviting him to set his tray down. He does, swings his long legs over the bench, and examines the dismal culinary prospects without relish. “Do you think they’ll make us eat this the whole time?”

Taken aback by the fact that he has read her mind, Maria laughs. It feels like something for which she should have asked permission, though from who she has no idea. “I hope not.”

“I hope not too.” He speaks English well, mostly fluently, with the careful intonation of someone who has learned it out of books. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I am sitting down next to you, and I have not introduced myself. Asher Flynn.”

“Maria,” she says by reflex, glancing down; his name is indeed printed on his badge, though it strikes her as slightly Anglo for someone from Yugoslavia. Not that it is her business why he would have any kind of name at all. “Maria Tompkins.”

They shake hands, and he nods to her, having evidently also read her badge. “You are with Lockman? That must be exciting. They work with NASA, yes?”

Maria nods back, though she cannot help be wary of why this man has chosen her to chat up and immediately seemed interested in her employer. They choke down the gluey stroganoff for a few moments, and then she says, “Isn’t Yugoslavia a communist country?”

This is rather skip-the-formalities with someone she’s just met, and Asher Flynn looks surprised. “Yes,” he says, as if that was obvious. “Well, mostly. Tito is no friend to Moscow, though, and we are officially non-aligned. We’re the only country in Eastern Europe where you can travel abroad without an exit visa, and emigrate if you want to. Those poor bastards in the USSR, they need a passport even for domestic travel, they have to request leaves of absence from their hometown council if they plan to be gone longer than thirty days, and they can’t leave the country. I wouldn’t want to live that way.”

Maria notes the elegance of this answer, how he seems to be responding to the real question (are you a Soviet spy?) hidden within her first one, while never letting on that he is. Or maybe it’s just her imagination, and he’s gotten this a lot from suspicious Americans, inclined to mistrust a dark young man with an Eastern European accent and an interest in spaceflight technology. Maybe that’s why he goes by Asher Flynn, if the name is easier for the West to trust. Maria takes a bite of bread (stale), and says, “So that’s where you’re from?”

“Yes. SR Croatia. Zagreb.” He doesn’t seem offended by her asking. “You?”

“Texas.” She bites her tongue on asking if he knows where it is. Just because she couldn’t find Zagreb on a map doesn’t mean he can’t. “Houston.”

“Houston,” Asher says, nodding. “Yes, yes. Where they launched Apollo 11. Were you there for that?”

Maria looks at her plate. She can feel the stroganoff revolting, threatening to come back up and taste even more vile this time, and swallows heavily. Asher cannot know that he has stepped directly onto her most vulnerable sore spot, her most enduring wound, and she tries to concentrate until the urge to scream and run backs down. He can sense at once, however, that something is wrong. “I didn’t – ” he says. “Sorry, is that – ?”

“I – no. I wasn’t there.” The words are dredged out of her like leaden anchors. “There was – there was a family emergency. My son, he – ” God, no, no, no, she is not telling this man she just met, she is not doing it, she is not throwing it onto him, and yet she is. “My son actually – my son died that day. It was – a bee sting, a bad allergic reaction. He – he didn’t make it.”

Asher blinks like she’s hit him. There are any number of things he could say or do in response, not least some screaming and running of his own. Then he reaches out and pats her hand; his own is large enough to cover it, if he held on, but he doesn’t. “Please forgive me,” he says quietly. “I did not know, of course, but I am very sorry. You may tell me to go away and eat my lunch somewhere else, if you would like.”

“I – no.” Maria is determined not to crumble, not to sit here and cry in the middle of the cafeteria, and she might do that if he left. “No, it’s – ”

He’s still looking at her, pensive, considering. Then he says, “What if we throw away this mess, and go get a sandwich? I heard New York has good sandwiches. The next panel I want to attend is not until two o’clock.”

Maria tenses. “Are you just – because you feel sorry for me?”

“I do feel sorry for you,” Asher says, simply and unpretentiously. “But I was going to ask if you wanted a sandwich before you said that, so it’s not why. There is a shop on the corner. It would take only a few minutes. If you would like.”

Maria supposes there is something to be said for the fact that he took the dead-son bombshell and his next move to is to seek out more of her company, to see her cracks and her ruins and somehow find them -- well, not beautiful, but not dead, unbearable, disqualifying. She can give into it, she’s never going to see him again, and the stroganoff is disgusting. She pauses, then says, “Okay.”

Asher smiles – it’s unforced, natural, dazzling, and her insides do something strange – and gets to his feet, once more nearly tripping over the bench that has not been made with the interests of a six-foot-three man in mind. He strides at her side as they leave the cafeteria, as Maria recalls the warning against walking alone in New York and then decides that after all, she isn’t alone. The sandwich shop is not far from Shea Stadium, bedecked with graffiti, and the 7 train rattles overhead on its elevated tracks, felonies presumably being committed aboard. It looks seedy, but Asher ducks inside with easy confidence, strides up to the counter, and orders them both a New York sub special, opening his wallet and carefully counting out cash to pay before Maria can offer to go Dutch. It’s hot and greasy and possibly the most delicious thing she has eaten in her life.

She looks at her watch when it’s done, decides to get back so she can serve as Lockman stenographer for the afternoon sessions, and Asher escorts her back. As he regards the Unisphere with a slightly ironic expression, Maria asks, “Is this your first time in America?”

It’s rich of her to be asking, since she’s a newcomer to the city herself, but she finds herself wondering. He nods. “Yes,” he says. “I can’t say that New York’s impressed me very much.”

“Is it different back home?” Maria has no idea what Yugoslavia is actually like, other than presumably Soviet Union-lite. The American imagination does not encompass much social diversity (or quality of life) over there in the Red parts of Europe, those oppressed and faceless millions bereft of the freedom and luxury of the West. “Better?”

Asher shrugs. “Every country has its problems. It was devastated by the war, the Nazis occupied it and turned it into a puppet state – it used to be the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, but the last heir to the throne fled in 1941, and the monarchy was abolished. That’s the year I was born, so I don’t remember, but Tito rallied the Partisans and the anti-fascist forces, and they fought to drive the Nazis out. Then he became president of the republic, and he separated from Stalin fairly quickly. But my mother was born in a farmhouse with dirt floors, in a poor and rural country that was still essentially in the nineteenth century, and now she lives in a nice rent-free apartment in Zagreb. She can go on vacations to the seaside and to cafés with her friends, her health insurance is paid for, she has a television set and a washing machine and likes to read Žena u borbi and watch soap operas. I can even take her to Paris, Milan. I don’t think that is so bad, no?”

Maria glances sidelong at him. The way he speaks about his mother makes it sounds like he loves her, and is proud that she has a comfortable life. Maria wonders what Asher is leaving out, what sacrifices are made for this, but then, is it any less than the sacrifices made in America, this increasingly strange land that they all accept as the norm? She looks at this dirty city, the trash blowing in the gutters. Remembers the pictures of burning TV sets and prostitutes and homeless people in suits sleeping in the street. She says, “No, it sounds nice.”

They reach the fairgrounds, and go inside. Asher gives her half a bow, old-fashioned, oddly charming, before he returns to the JAT contingent, and Maria finds herself inexplicably reluctant to see him go. In her defense, he was polite and well-dressed, gracious about that inadvertent emotional minefield, interesting to talk to, not from around here, and saved her from having to eat the cafeteria food. Out of nowhere, she wonders if he’ll take her to lunch again tomorrow, if she could induce him to do so, but that seems manipulative. She could even ask, but that – no. She doesn’t want to give the wrong impression. Not when, as she already has to remind herself, they are never going to see each other again.

#timeless ff #asher x maria #note that this is an excerpt #from my much longer fic of them #which is already like.... 40k words #and will be finished one day #possibly #i have the feelings #prompt fills #extasiswings #ask

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5hining-aus · 4 years

Text

Countdown (Minho X Reader)

There are many ways people celebrate on New Year’s Eve. Some people stayed in with their loved ones and enjoyed finger food. Some people would go out clubbing and possibly get shitfaced. And some would go to parties and scope out who they wanted to smooch once the clock struck midnight. You weren’t doing any of those things this year. Nope, instead of drinking jello shots and enjoying your friend’s party, you were darting around trying to avoid your (uninvited) ex.

This wasn’t just any ex, oh no no no, this ex was your EX, the person who had claimed to love you with all his heart and said that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, only to cheat on you in your apartment, where he did not live.

So yeah, now you were hiding in your friend’s kitchen. Great start to the New Year.

At least the food’s in here. I can distract myself with pizza and chicken wings.

Just as you thought that, you heard a very familiar voice come from the next room.

“Food’s in the kitchen? Great, thanks man!”

It was HIM. You knew that, realistically, you would have to face him again someday, but that day would not be today and so you did what any mature, reasonable adult would do and dove behind the counter island.

You held your breath once you heard your ex enter the kitchen, staying still as a statue and praying to every deity you could think of to make it so he never noticed you.

Luckily, he was in and out of the kitchen, and you were safe to arise from your hiding spot. However, before you had managed to calm down too much, you heard somebody making their way towards the kitchen again and, on instinct, dove behind the counter once more.

“Hey Y/N, how’d your New Year's Eve go?” Well gee, random coworker trying to make conversation, it was diddly darn wonderful. I spent the night hiding behind counters because I am an adult who has a steady job and pays taxes and gets terrified at the thought of speaking to her ex. How was yours?

“Um, hey Y/N.”

Oh no.

You knew that voice. It was a bit deeper than you remembered, but still very recognizable.

If my entire body could just combust right now, that’d be great.

“Oh! Minho, hi…”

You honestly wished it had been your ex who had found you, less mortifying that way. Instead, it was Choi Minho, aka one of the most gorgeous men on the planet, aka the guy you had the BIGGEST crush on in high school. And he was staring right at you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice laced with genuine concern.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, it’s just-”

Quick, come up with some non-embarrassing explanation as to why you’re crouching behind a counter.

“My...earring. Yeah, my earring. I was putting it back in when somebody bumped into me and I dropped it.”

Great job, self, he’ll never suspect a thing. Now to just act like I can’t find it and then it’s all smooth sailing.

“Here, let me help you look.”

Damn it.

Before you could even begin to protest, Minho had crouched down beside you and began searching for the “missing” earring that was, in fact, still in your ear.

“What does it look like, Y/N?”

“Oh..uh, it’s silver with a turquoise stone. And it’s really small, we might not even be able to find it.”

Minho nudged you in a reassuring manner.

“Don’t worry, I’ll search all night if I have to.”

Curse you and your kind heart, Choi Minho.

You thought it would be suspicious if you found the earring right away, so you continued “searching” for a few more minutes before stealthily taking it off and planting it next to Minho.

A few moments later, he spoke.

“Y/N! Is this it?”

“Oh my gosh, you found it!” You squealed, trying your best to sound ecstatic. “Thank you so much!”

“Anytime,” he replied with what was possibly the most gorgeous smile you had ever seen.

He’s even handsomer now than he was back then.

You two stayed there smiling at each other for another moment before Minho broke the silence.

“So, I don’t think I’ve seen you for any length of time since senior year. How are you?”

“Oh, you know, good, I’ve been good. Went to university, got my degree, now I’m working somewhere where my degree doesn’t matter at all, I’m sure you know how it is.”

Minho simply laughed.

“But enough about me,” you continued. “What about you? I heard you spent two years in the Marines. How was that?”

A bashful smile graced Minho’s face.

“Oh, well, you know, it was fine, I’ve been fine. I know how to jump out of a plane now, so there’s something.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. He said he knew how to jump out of a plane as if it was something that everybody knew how to do.

“That actually sounds really interesting.”

“Maybe I can teach you sometime,” he said quickly.

You shot Minho a surprised look. He wanted to teach you how to jump out of a plane?

Before either of you could say anything more, somebody came into the kitchen and pretty much herded you two back into the living room for the New Year Countdown. If it had still been the beginning of the night, you probably would’ve been darting back to the safety of the kitchen, but you know what, you were feeling better, you no longer felt sick to your stomach, and you HE hadn’t bothered you all night. You were home free. Or, at least you thought you were.

Mere moments before the beginning of the New Year, your ex had sidled up next to you, and you knew you couldn’t escape without somebody noticing.

Great, now I feel sick again.

You felt your heart rising further up your throat every second closer to the end of the countdown, and it definitely didn’t help that you could practically feel your ex staring at you like a lion would a gazelle.

Okay, I need to calm down, maybe I’m just overthinking...Did he just pop a breath mint?

Your heart began racing faster and faster, and not in a good way. You tried to calm yourself, but the closer the countdown got to zero, the more panicked you became.

“IS EVERYBODY READY?” Somebody shouted.

Here it comes.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4-”

You almost jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder, and you probably would have had the tap not been on the side of your body farther away from your ex. Turning in the direction of the tapper, you came face-to-face with Minho, who looked rather nervous.

“Um...Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“3, 2, 1-”

“SoI'veBeenCrazyAboutYouSinceOurFreshmanYearOfHighSchoolAndINeverToldYouBecauseYouWereSOCuteAndIWasACowardAndThenWeNeverReallySawEachOtherAfterGraduationSoIFiguredThatItWasJustAHarmlessLittleHighSchoolCrushAndThatIWasOverItButNowIDon'tThinkIActuallyWasAndIKnowThisIsProbablyALotForMeToUnloadOnYouRightNowButIREALLYNeededToGetThisOffMyChest,” Minho proclaimed, somehow managing to get everything out in one breath.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The entire room was jubilant, but you were frozen in time. Most of Minho’s sentence had been fairly garbled since he had just blurted it all out without a single pause, but you were pretty sure you had gotten the gist. Still, you had to be absolutely sure.

“Could you...say that again?”

Minho took a deep breath, collecting his nerves.

“So, I've been crazy about you since our freshman year of high school and I never told you because you were so cute and I was a coward. We never really saw each other after graduation so I figured that it was just a harmless little high school crush and that I was over it but now I don't think I actually was and I know this is probably a lot for me to unload on you right now but I really needed to get this off my chest,” he repeated, this time at a slightly more understandable speed.

There were so many things going through your head, but your brain could only formulate two words.

“Holy shit.”

Minho let out an awkward laugh.

“I know it’s a lot to bring up out of the blue.”

“You could’ve told me this years ago,” you stated. “Would’ve saved me the money I spent sterilizing my mattress,” you added as an afterthought.

“Sterilizing your mattress?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Like when we’re on a date?” Minho asked, a hopeful, slightly cheesy smile spread across his face.

“Maybe,” you sang. “Just as long as we aren’t jumping out of planes,” you added in a teasing tone.

Minho just laughed and took your hand, leading you back to the crowd.

“No plane jumping on the first date. Got it.”

#SHINee AU #SHINee imagines #SHINee #SHINee scenarios #SHINee x reader #minho #minho x reader

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self-shipper-snowdrop · 4 years

Note

*breaks down your door* ELSA or NOCHSLAN

HEAR ME OUT… BOTH…

What made me like them

-Elsa honestly just struck me at first. When I first saw Frozen years ago, right when it came out, what made me like her was that I just felt close to her. In the start I felt really connected to her, because how she was so scared of hurting her family and how she isolated herself felt close to home. But the movie went on and little me started to really admire her. At the end when she started to let people in I looked up to that so much, and wished I could be like that too, be strong and take that step to let more people into my life. Also, a silly thing but ice powers definitely helped, lol. I hadn’t realized I was bi yet at the time but I was highkey having;;; bi thoughts about walking in the snow with Elsa… having fun playing it and giving her a kiss… which made me like her a whole lot because it gave me the warm fuzzies.

-Nochslan’s hard to pinpiont because, well, I created him (seeing as he’s my OC) so I’ve seen him through every step of the process as he’s developed as a character. Not just the present point, unlike a lot of other f/os I have. But I honestly think that may have been part of it. Since I know him so well, and I really understand him in a way that nobody else really can- since they haven’t witnessed that development and don’t know everything about him- so I felt this connection to him. The lovey-dovey feelings probably came from the fact that 1) he’s a demon. I am a simple lady. I see demons, I 99.9% wanna smooch 2) super confidence, live and die for the aesthetic, which is My Type©

My favorite thing about them

-I love!!!!! Her voice!!!!! So much!!!!!! I know it’s silly and dumb but I love her voice, I love hearing her sing, I love hearing her speak, I just love love love it!!!!! I could listen to my lovely queen forever and ever ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎ I also love how she has this sort of serene air about her so much of the time. She has her fears of course, but something about Elsa feels so… calm, I suppose. Almost ‘homelike’, as in you feel like you’re at home just by being near her. So I love that just as much.

-Oof this is hard, but as weird as it is… I honestly love his confidence. The hint of smugness, even. It makes him a punchable man but darn it- I’ll be damned if it doesn’t turn me into a puddle. Just thinking of his tone, the hint of a smirk as he goes “You really think you could escape this place?” to the protagonist of the story he’s in… just… GFFFFGGFGFGGFGGFGFFGTFTG ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ I can’t even begin to describe it I just spontaneously combust.

Nicknames we have for each other

(I kinda lumped pet names in with this one because I’m a sucker lmao)

-Elsa likes to use just my name usually, she says that she loves it and the sound of it in general, but she does call me “snowflake”, “snowdrop”, and “bunny” every so often! Other favourites are “dear” or “darling”. I like calling her “my queen/my snow queen”, but I’ve also taken to calling her “Elle”/“El” as a short version of “Elsa”. She blushed the first time I said it ^///^

-Nochslan tends to call me “moondrop”, “my queen” “my dearest”, “my fair one”- things like that. I typically call him “my king”, “my demon” (in a teasing fashion 90% of the time lol) “darling”, “dear” or “Noch” for short.

A headcanon of our relationship/friendship

-Whenever I feel down, she’ll use her powers to cheer me up somehow. Be it a little snow flurry, making something out of snow and/or ice, or just doing something I can watch, it’s her go to. She knows snow holds a special place in my heart, so she makes the most of that by bringing it right to me.

-Nochslan gives me… a lot of presents. Too many presents, all the time, whenever possible. He doesn’t really get how love works so his go to is “uhhh I think I’m supposed to give presents to impress you”. A funny thing is, though, you’d never know he’s unsure of it on the outside because he’s a smooth bastard. Always saying things like “I brought you this diamond, but it pales in comparison to your beauty, my fair one” and it FREAKING KILLS ME even though I’m thinking “Noch you have no idea how relationships work, do you honeypie?”

My favorite image of them

OOF THAT’S HARD BUT;;; Probably one of these images of Elsa (I CAN’T PICK-) and this one of Noch;

Anything else!

-While Elsa and I are engaged, not yet married (still making plans on that front and thinking of a date) back when she was in charge of Arindelle I was basically referred to and acted as “the second queen” anyways lol. Some people referred to us as ‘fire and ice’ too because she tends to wear blue and white while I often wear red and black.

-Nochslan loves hearing me sing, even if I get really nervous about it. He says he finds the sound soothing, and likes it when I sing gentle songs. Since he’s proficient in playing many different instruments too, Nochslan tends to offer to play a song for me if I do the vocals.

#self insert #self ship #romantic; the cold never bothered us anyway #romantic; sign with a devil

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texanredrose · 6 years

Note

(pulls up to window) yeah, can I get some purruby with 'announcing relationship to family and friends' and a side of 'awkward'?

Consider this a refried, deep fried special, with extra headcanons, free of charge *ding* order up.

Ruby fidgeted, looking around at the interior of the limousine with about a dozen awful scenarios bounding around in the back of her mind. This could go really, really bad, which she didn’t think would happen, but the thought it might made her restless. After all, it wasn’t every day that she had the chance to interact with legitimate royalty- okay, so that wasn’t exactly true, since she was dating Pyrrha, but she had no idea until recently that her girlfriend was actually the next in line for a throne, or that Remyscira’s monarchy still stood after all these years! Whenever they covered it in history classes, the teachers always made it sound like the small island off the coast of Mistral had joined the mainland’s government, like the line of Queens ruling over it had ended about a century ago, but nope! Apparently, that was still a thing!

So now, here she sat, in a fancy limousine beside her girlfriend, being escorted to the royal palace by a motorcade with her own family ogling just about everything in sight.

“Ya know, I gotta hand it to ya, Pyrrha. Never would’ve guessed you’d be into this sorta lifestyle,” Yang said, opening up the mini bar and grabbing a little bottle, pulling off the top and taking a sniff. Her nose immediately crinkled as she shook her head, muttering a curse under her breath. “But… I could get used to it.”

“It was very nice of your family to invite us over.” Taiyang chuckled, pulling the bottle from his eldest daughter’s hand and replacing the cap. “A shame Blake and Weiss couldn’t come. I would’ve loved to meet them!”

“Yeah, hehe, real shame!” Ruby offered a weak smile. She took solace in the fact that they really couldn’t be there, since Weiss had opted to go to Menagerie for spring break, but they also… didn’t actually extend the offer. She’d rationalized it at the time- Blake and Weiss were dating, they would obviously want to spend a lot of time together, and meeting royalty probably wouldn’t surprise either of them enough to change their plans- but now she kinda wished her roommate was there to chide her about being nervous.

What did she have to be nervous about, really? She and Pyrrha had dated for the past few years, they really liked each other, they’d spent a lot of time together between schoolwork and practices, and they liked each other’s friends.

Of course, the little detail that Ruby might’ve forgotten to mention to any member of her family that she’d started dating the Mistrali princess could have something to do with her sudden bout of nerves but… well, it wasn’t like Yang had owned up to dating either! They were both playing this weird game of ‘I kinda know you’re dating someone but you haven’t officially told me yet so we’re just going to pretend like it’s not a big deal’ which… honestly, it was exhausting.

“I’m sure you’ll have a chance to meet them once the school year ends, Mr. Xiao Long,” Pyrrha said with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you myself and I’m sure my parents will be thrilled.”

“I’m not so sure.” He reached up, scratching at the back of his head. “I’m just a teacher from Patch. Not exactly suited to the blueblood life, though my daughters seem keen on making friends with them.”

“Hey, it’s not like we planned it!” Yang crossed her arms over her chest, probably just a little bit self conscious about the rough patches on her leather jacket. “We just happen to have a knack for getting uptight Princesses to relax. It’s a gift; you should be proud.”

“Well, I certainly am proud that you’ve both made so many friends while you’ve been away at school.” Taiyang glanced out the window as they pulled into the royal grounds, guards in shining metal armor patrolling the perimeter. “I was worried, ya know. A father worries about his girls.”

“Moms too; mine wasn’t exactly thrilled when I decided to study abroad,” the redhead said, sighing slightly. “She didn’t like the idea of me leaving home. Just… worries after me. And my sister.”

“Oh, she still lives with your folks, right?” Lilac eyes shone bright, a smile curling her sister’s lips. “Think she’d be up for a little arm wrestling?”

“You’re really going to challenge my little sister because you can’t beat me?”

“Hey, it’s not like you can beat me, either!” Yang chuckled, rotating her right shoulder. “Last time we arm wrestled, I swear you almost tore my arm out of socket.”

As the vehicle slowed to a stop, Ruby took a deep breath, watching as someone popped open the door. Yang was the first to move, never really liking being the passenger, and Taiyang followed, stretching out his back. She almost followed, but a hand grabbing hers stopped her, silver meeting emerald.

“We don’t have to tell them today,” Pyrrha said softly, giving her hand a little squeeze. “We can take our time.”

“No. I want to tell them, I do.” She sighed. “I’m just a little scared about how they’ll react. I mean… we’re not really good at this whole… royalty thing? If you hadn’t already noticed, which you probably had-”

“Ruby?” The redhead smiled wide, leaning closer and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “You’re doing wonderful. My parents will adore you, and your family. Just watch. Everything will be fine.”

She sincerely wished she could feel that sort of confidence but, really, how could she? When they were alone- just the two of them- it was easy; nothing whispered doubts into her ears. But around people, she’d always been a little more self conscious, a little more unsure, because people she could never understand the way she could machines. Nothing complicated about hydraulics or combustion- she could measure everything down to the smallest atom. That was easy!

Trying to predict how royalty would react to her family? How her family would react to her dating a bonafide Princess? Much different.

But the hand in hers reassured her, and she followed Pyrrha out of the limousine and up the literal red carpet. Into a building that looked like it hadn’t been changed in the slightest since the days when terrible creatures called Grimm roamed Remnant freely. She absolutely loved the architecture but it suddenly felt far more… imposing when also surrounded by fully armored guards.

“You know… Weiss would love to see all this,” she said, trying not to draw too much attention to herself as she clung to Pyrrha’s hand. “I think she’d appreciate the aesthetic.”

“Blake too; her own family maintains a similar estate in Menagerie, and they have guards posted more often than not, too.” The redhead chuckled. “I never thought I’d have so much in common with her. But I suppose that’s true with most of our friends.”

Our friends. Ruby swallowed as she tried not to imagine how that might change in the future. Honestly, she didn’t expect her family to object to her dating Pyrrha or for them to break up any time soon but… well, she also had to admit that her nerves were making those possibilities seem like real, tangible things.

What if Yang didn’t approve? Sure, her sister had only ever teased her about things before, and maybe she went overboard a time or two, but that was years ago.

But what if she didn’t?

She was psyching herself out. Yang would probably be thrilled; she liked Pyrrha as a friend and teammate and they got on great. And Dad- he’d be super happy that she was actually dating, given how he’d worried about her not being able to make friends while away at college. This should really be nothing short of good news all around!

But what if-

Two doors were thrown open as they were escorted into a room with high rafters, a long table stretching from one end to the other and able to sit a hundred people easily but only two currently occupied the table.

“Oh, my, you’ve arrived early.” One woman stood- taller than even Pyrrha, with a more ornate version of the redhead’s tiara holding back burnt orange curls. But the eyes- she and her daughter had the same eyes, and they looked just as warm and friendly when she smiled. “Welcome to Remyscira. I am Hippolyta, Pyrrha’s Mom.”

The other woman stood- shorter, but with far more muscle, and that same set to her jaw that her daughter sometimes got when she was focused. And a sword at her hip, which was a bit odd, but considering they were effectively surrounded by people in armor, she supposed it didn’t look too out of place. “And I’m her mother, Antiope. Are you hungry? We can offer you some fruits, something light until the midday meal.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you.” The man offered a hand, a wide smile on his lips. “I’m Taiyang, Yang and Ruby’s dad. I’ve heard so much about your daughter and she lives up to every expectation.”

“She does indeed.” Antiope accepted the gesture, turning her gaze towards Ruby- and Yang, briefly, but mostly those deep blue eyes rested on the smallest person there, and that didn’t make her feel intimidated at all. “And we’ve heard much about your daughters as well.”

“Yeah, I’m Yang!” The blonde cheerily greeted, waving a hand. “Thanks again for inviting us.”

“Well, of course,” Hippolyta replied with a gentle chuckle. “Pyrrha said she had something important she wanted to discuss and that she wished to speak with Taiyang as well.”

“Oh, really?” Tai glanced back at them, a furrow to his brows. “About what?”

Pyrrha looked at her then and she wouldn’t doubt that her girlfriend could find a way to steer the conversation clear of the topic if asked. But, this was kinda why they’d set up this whole trip, so they might as well let the cat out of the bag.

“We both wanted to, uh, talk to you,” Ruby said, trying to keep her voice steady. “We just… thought we’d let you know that Pyrrha and I are dating and we’re very happy so thank you for your support and please vote again next year!”

Silence fell upon the room until Pyrrha leaned closer to her. “Did you just quote an election campaign?”

“I panicked, okay, I’m trying.” She shot back in a low whisper, trying to ignore the irregular beating of her heart as her girlfriend’s parents exchanged a look.

“Well… if this is a serious courtship, we will absolutely respect that,” Hippolyta said slowly, blinking as she caught up with the information. “It’s a bit… untraditional.”

“How so?” Tai shrugged. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Here in Remyscira, we have certain… cultural expectations when one enters a relationship.” Antiope raised her hands in a placating gesture. “We realize that our traditions are unconventional elsewhere, so we of course take no offense, but it… is a little jarring.”

“I’ll say!” Taiyang laughed, though happiness shone brightly in his eyes. “Here I thought you’d go off to college and shut yourself in your room or your lab, but you have a girlfriend now? I’m proud, Rubes; she’s a very nice young lady.”

“I just can’t believe neither of you told me!” Yang started to chuckle, but the sound slowly died as her brows pinched together, and Ruby felt her dread flare up again. “Hey, wait a minute- two weeks ago, when I called you asking what you were up to and you said you were ‘studying anatomy’… you don’t take an anatomy course.” She raised a brow, the teasing inflection of her voice making her sister blush. “What were you really doing, huh?”

“I was studying anatomy!” She spat out the truth a bit too readily, because she could never lie under pressure to save her life. “Just not out of a book.”

Again, Pyrrha’s parents exchanged a look.

“Mother. Be reasonable.” The redhead tried to keep her voice level even as the two women seemed to be having a silent, private conversation.

“Oh wow, really, Rubes? Really?” Yang set her hands on her lips, clearly caught between teasing her further and letting it go, because on the one hand she probably thought it was hilarious how red Ruby was turning but on the other, not in front of the parents, come on.

Taiyang whistled. “Wow, my little girl’s growing up.” He lightly bumped shoulders with his eldest. “Looks like you’ve got some catching up to do.”

“Yeah, hehehe, about that…” She reached up, running a hand through her hair. “Um, maybe not as much as you think?”

“Ruby Rose.” Antiope’s voice rang out, clear as a hot blade sliding through snow. “Do you intend to continue courting our daughter?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she replied, smiling when she saw the happiness shining in her girlfriend’s eyes at how readily she answered the question, without a hint of nervousness. She really did like Pyrrha… maybe even love her, because that little crush had turned into so much more over the years. “I do.”

“Very well then.” Without any explanation, the woman pulled her sword from its sheath, about five of the guards copying the motion. “You get a fifteen second head start.”

Eyes widening in shock, she turned towards Pyrrha. “You said they would be okay with this!”

“They will be, as long as she doesn’t catch you.” The redhead grabbed her shoulders, looking all too serious in that moment. “Trust me: run.”

“What are you-”

“Ten, nine-”

“Whoa, whoa, hey, what’s-”

“Yang, calm down, it’s cultural-”

“-eight, seven-”

“Dad, you’re just going to let this happen?”

“-six, five-”

“I’m being serious, Ruby, run, and don’t let her catch you!”

“-four, three-”

Without waiting for the rest of the countdown, Ruby turned and booked it back they way they’d come, knowing full well she didn’t stand a chance inside the home. She’d be just as likely to turn into those chasing her as away, and the open outdoors at least gave her some vantage. Idly, she thanked her father for taking them hunting when they were little. She might not enjoy the sport herself but she could certainly use that experience to help her as she heard a loud, rousing cry from behind her, like an army preparing to charge.

What in Remnant had she gotten herself into?

The sun sank low beneath the horizon, twilight finally giving way to nightfall as Ruby collapsed to her knees at the edges of the woods behind the royal estate. She’d spent all day ducking through the trees and running as fast as her legs could carry her, avoiding the literal hunting party sent after her.

But she really couldn’t run anymore, even as she heard footsteps coming up behind her.

“So… what… I… lose?” Struggling to catch her breath, she turned her head to see Antiope kneeling down beside her, sword once again in its scabbard.

“No, you won. You eluded us until sunset, as tradition states.” She offered a smile, equal parts proud and kind. “We firmly believe that love gives wings to those who feel truly feel it. When two people care for each other that deeply, they can outrun anything, but the true strength of love comes not to aid running away. It comes to aid facing the things that trouble us deepest… but I have a feeling you already know that.”

Rolling over, she laid down and stared at the sky above, still working on catching her breath. “I… I used to be really nervous around other people. Meeting new people… it just wasn’t as easy for me as it was for Yang.” She glanced at the woman as she sat down beside her. “But with Pyrrha… I dunno. It’s like I can face down anything.”

“That is love, Little One,” she said with a chuckle. “You come to a far away land, to the heart of its people, and you come bearing news you don’t know how we’ll receive. That takes a type of courage people think is all too common until they find themselves lacking it entirely.” She sighed, reaching out to clap a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “I’ve always trusted my daughter’s decisions. I may not understand them, but they’ve never steered her wrong.”

“So… does this mean we have your blessing?”

Antiope laughed, reaching to undo her sword belt, gathering up the leather and holding it out. Ruby sat up, accepting the gift with furrowed brows.

“You may continue dating her, of course. I doubt we’d be able to stop her even if we’d caught up to you. She’s never been one for tradition.” The woman pushed herself to her feet and began walking away. “But if you intend to marry her, you should learn how to wield that. Betrothals are determined by duels.”

As Antiope walked back towards the royal estate, Ruby slumped back, still holding the sword belt.

“Well… okay…” she blinked. “I need to learn how to fight, I guess.”

While the thought itself worried her a bit, the idea that Pyrrha would be right there, cheering her on from the sidelines?

Worth it.

#TRR writes #Pyrruby #Expectations College AU #Two years later Ruby shows up with a giant fucking scythe and Antiope can't help but be impressed #'I said a duel and you bring a scythe #you've got spunk you're definitely the sort of person my daughter would fall for

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queencamellia · 6 years

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Kuro Gakuen AU (Ch.1)

Based on this post by @rheaaasss. I think I’m going to be writing a lot for this AU LMAO.

Ao3 Link Here!

Chapter 1: Signing Up

I’ve learned so much about fencing from writing these two and nOW I’M LEARNING ABOUT KENDO. I’ll be a martial arts expert by the time Lizzy appears again in the manga.

(Yana, bring my angel back. I beg of you.)

The bell rang, signalling the end of class. Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford, known as “Lizzy” to most, stood up from her seat, having already prepped her bag minutes before. Emerald eyes darting from the left to the right, she sent her seatmate a friendly smile. “Well, cheers to Spring vacation,” she said, offering a hand.

“Take care of yourself, Lizzy,” Sieglinde instructed, shaking her hand and rolling her eyes. “The boys from the upper division hardly look...innocuous.”

Lizzy snorted, knowing her friend was only saying so out of concern. “I’ll keep that in mind. Please... try to come outside every once in awhile?” she begged, clasping onto her friend’s hand. “We have twelve days of relaxation until the school year starts again.”

“I have books to read, new inventions to be made, and other matters to be addressed,” Sieglinde droned, counting off her tasks on a hand. “Not to mention preparation for the coming school year.”

“Sieglinde …”

“Just kidding,” the raven haired girl laughed, nudging Lizzy gently. “I’ll come to whatever barbecue party you’re arranging for the cherry blossom festival.”

Lizzy brightened, beaming at her friend. “Great! I’ll text you with the details, later.”

“Is that your brother?”

“Huh?” Lizzy turned around, blinking in surprise and recognizing the irate look of her brother surrounded by various gushing teenage girls. “Oh, I’d better go save him before he spontaneously combusts from embarrassment. See you later, Sieglinde!”

“Take care.”

“Nii-san!” Lizzy called, exuding innocence as she shoved past all of the squealing girls. “Ready to go home?”

Edward gave her a look of blatant relief for saving him. “Y-yeah. Let’s go, Lizzy.” Gently, he attempted to pry one of the fangirls off of him. The two Midfords took off as if they were being chased by vultures — which, in a way, was a fair comparison. Once they reached the lower-division’s shoe lockers, Lizzy literally shoved her bag at her brother to slip on her shoes as quickly as possible.

“Come on, let’s go,” Lizzy tugged at Edward’s sleeve desperately, grabbing her bag back with her other hand.

But by then, it was too late.

“Midford!”

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath. Pivoting on her heel, she gave a tiny smile at the approaching figure. “Grey-senpai, nice to see you. Will you be coming to the barbecue party as well?”

“Of course, I never pass down free food,” Grey dismissed immediately, slowing down as he caught up to the two Midfords. “Anyways, that’s not what I came to speak to you of.”

“Has my mother cancelled kendo lessons?” Lizzy guessed.

In response, a flier was shoved in her face. Lizzy blinked, stupefied for a moment, then took the flier. “Sign ups for Kuro Academy’s kendo...club?” she read aloud, glancing at Grey in question. “I thought we didn’t have a kendo club?”

“Phipps and I got it running ourselves,” Grey proclaimed smugly. “We’ve already got a couple of fellows to sign up, including your brother.”

“Hm. That’s great.” Lizzy handed him back the flier, smiling at him. “Good for you.”

Grey stared at her, then his silver eyes narrowed. “Is that all?’

“Uh...I’m glad to see that kendo is becoming more popular around here? It’s about time a club was started up,” Lizzy tried.

His scowl deepened.

“...you’ll do well as a coach?” she tried again.

His glare darkened to the point that several bystanders took a step back.

“I’m rooting for you...and Phipps-senpai...and nii-san ?”

“God damn it, Midford,” he snapped. “I’m asking you to join the club.”

Realization dawned on Lizzy’s features. “Ohhhh, I see now.”

“About time,” Grey muttered to himself, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Well?” he demanded.

Lizzy shifted awkwardly, glancing longingly at the doors. “Sorry, but I’ll have to decline.”

“Great, now just sign—what. ”

“I’m not joining.”

“Why.” It wasn’t a question, but a demand.

Lizzy shrugged.

Grey glared.

“...is this still about you trying to be one of those weak and dainty lolis that your cousin has a complex for?”

“Astre does not have a loli-complex,” Lizzy protested immediately, whipping around to face him. “But strong girls make him feel uncomfortable. I’m his cousin, for heaven’s sake, and he already can’t attend school because of his sickness. And Ciel’s recently gotten a job at a café, so he’s probably even more lonely than usual.”

“Grey-san,” Edward said suddenly, cutting in. Lizzy nearly startled: she had forgotten that her brother was standing next to her. “Don’t you have to find Phipps-san?”

Grey scowled, but glanced at his watch and winced. “I’ll be back, Midford,” he promised darkly. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he stalked past them to search for his fellow silver-haired classmate. Lizzy stared at the empty space he once occupied thoughtfully, then nodded at her brother and began walking outside.

They had just exited the school when Edward said hesitantly, “Lizzy…”

“Mm?”

“Are you sure about this?”

Lizzy angled her head slightly so she could meet her brother’s eyes. “About what?” she echoed, waving at Paula, their chauffeur. The brunette servant waved back, flustered, before entering their slick black car.

“You don’t need to sacrifice your happiness for him,” Edward explained softly. “Astre will understand. That new butler has been keeping him company, anyways, and I heard that Uncle Vincent is hiring a few new hands that are closer to his age, too.”

Lizzy was silent for a few moments, entering the car once it pulled up to the pair of siblings. “He’s still mycousin,” Lizzy said hoarsely. “I don’t want him to be...to be scared of me.”

“Exactly,” Edward insisted. “He’s your cousin, which is why he won’t think any less of you even if he learns of your kendo prowess. He’s your cousin, so he’ll still love you just the way you are.”

“But…”

“You care too much, Lizzy. You’re an amazing girl, and I’m proud to have you as my sister. Astre loves you, and the fact that you’re strong enough to take home several kendo trophies won’t make him love you any less,” Edward said affectionately, leaning over to ruffle her hair. “He...he’d want you to enjoy yourself. I want you to do what you want, too.”

Lizzy stared out of the window in contemplative silence.

“Midford!”

“Oh my god , Grey-senpai, how the hell did you get inside my house?”

“Your mother invited me. Early kendo practice, remember?”

“Then... why are you in my room?”

“”Because you would be here? Anyways, I brought the kendo club sign ups right here, all you have to do is sign.”

“Lizzy, I heard screaming. Is something goin— how dare you defile my little sister like this, you ungentlemanly swine!”

“...why the fuck does he sound like he’s quoting Shakespeare?”

“God damn it, Grey-senpai — run!”

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Midford!”

“Why are you in my kitchen?”

“Like I said: your mother let me in. These creampuffs are delicious, by the way.”

“T-those were supposed to be for Ciel and Astre, you dumbass.”

“I brought the kendo club sign up sheet—oi, Midford, where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Midford! Oi, Midford, get out here!”

“Why is Charles Grey standing outside of our house calling for you?”

“Ignore him, Astre. Here, why don’t we head to the living room where there aren’t any windows?”

“It vaguely sounds like he’s talking about kendo—”

“Let’s go, Astre.”

“Midfo—”

“Give. Me. The. Sheet.”

Grey blinked in surprise for a minute, then hastily fumbled in grabbing the paper and literally throwing it at her with all his might, as if afraid she would suddenly take back her statement if she considered it a moment longer. “Have my charms finally won you over?” he asked, giving her a cocky grin.

“I just realized that if I didn’t address the manner, you’d ruin the flower viewing party with your insistent demands,” Lizzy sniffed, setting down her shopping bags and whipping out a pen. She’d just finished shopping with Ciel for Astre’s birthday present. “Don’t give yourself so much credit.”

“Hah, you know, Midford...there’s a term for girls like you.”

“And that is?”

“Tsun…” And here, Grey leaned closer, leering at her and poking her forehead with his finger. “...dere.”

Lizzy adopted an affronted look, swatting away his hand and grabbing her bags. “I am not .”

“Are too.”

“Am not ,” Lizzy said with finality, rolling her eyes and resuming her walk back to the parking lot where Paula was waiting. “And we are not going to get into one of those kind of childish debates.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Grey easily fell in pace with her, maintaining a distance of about ten centimeters between them.

“I’ll see you at the party?” Lizzy presumed, raising an eyebrow and signing her name on the sheet with a particularly dramatic flourish. Then, she offered said sheet to her suddenly smug silver-haired companion.

He took the proffered paper with particular grace. “Of course.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.” Lizzy nodded at Paula in acknowledgment for opening the car door.

“The first practice starts on the first. Don’t be late,” Grey called after her.

“I’ll be there,” Lizzy returned coolly, shutting the door. It wasn’t until they had driven for several minutes before she finally allowed herself to slump back in her seat, sheer giddiness making her unable to stop smiling.

She’d done it! She actually signed up for the kendo club! It’d taken her several days to gather the courage to do so, but suddenly it felt as if a large weight was lifted off of her shoulders. Lizzy couldn’t help the laughter that escaped her lips, buoyed by the bubbling happiness in her chest.

She did it.

Signing up for this would either become the best or worst thing in her life.

next chapter will be out soon??? maybe???

#kuroshitsuji #greylizzy #charles grey #elizabeth midford #kuro gakuen

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nearcromancy · 7 years

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oakpodcast · 7 years

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Transmission 6 Transcript

Transmission 6 is live on Patreon. It will go live to the general public Saturday.

This is the season 1 finale. Season 2 will return later this month.

HOLLY: If you're a new listener, make sure to start at the very beginning.

MUSIC: “SOLITUDE” BY MUCIOJAD

HOLLY: Before I get started, I want to thank Jemma, Melissa, Liam, and a bunch of other new listeners for supporting me on Patreon.

HOLLY: And to everyone funding my coffee habit dollar by dollar, THANK YOU. It's a serious morale booster to know that someone is out there listening, and not only that, but cares enough to buy me a cup of coffee. So seriously, thank you so much.

HOLLY: All right, so, it's about 9 a.m., July 23rd. I'm sitting outside the Walmart with a jug of chocolate milk I got on sale around 6 a.m. when I couldn't sleep.

HOLLY: Anyway, I figured I'd reply to your email and then hopefully finish this stupid assignment, pending the armored truck getting here when I'm expecting it to.

HOLLY: And if my stupid hands cooperate. I know I'm clumsy, especially lately, but normally I'm at least good with my hands, right? No dirty jokes about that. Let's keep this PG-rated, thank you very fucking much.

HOLLY: But honestly, this is getting so annoying! I took the Chromebook apart last night and I swear I dropped the fucking screwdriver every five minutes. (Sighs) I know the fact that I haven't had a good night's sleep in a few months doesn't help anything. Whatever.

HOLLY: (Tense) Uh, so, what's going on with your email address? Why does it keep bouncing when I try to email you? Hopefully that means you've finished up and you're on your way home? Never hurts to be optimistic, I guess…

HOLLY: I mean, I know you're busy, but there are some things I'd rather talk about privately, so... yeah. Send me your new email address when you get a chance, thanks.

SOUND: NOISY PICKUP TRUCK DRIVING PAST

HOLLY: Okay, I'm going to read part of your email and then respond to it. (Deep breath) Here goes.

HOLLY AS OAK: Hey Holly, how are you feeling today?

HOLLY: I'm fine. Like I said, tired... aside from not being able to sleep, I'm okay. Well, I did pass out in the laundromat yesterday, but there's probably no reason to worry. I'm just not used to the heat affecting me like this.

HOLLY AS OAK: (Reading) I know this random, but did you turn Cosette off between when I left and when you left?

HOLLY: (Sighs) The answer to that is no. No, Cosette is probably still Roomba-ing around the apartment every day, dragging her… exploded dust tank behind her. Do you remember if she stops if the tank gets full? (More quietly and uncertainly) Roombas can't... catch on fire... right? Nnnnnnnnn.

HOLLY: Well, I texted Cami and asked her to try to shut off Cosette if she happens to go by the apartment, so... anyway...

HOLLY AS OAK: (Reading monotonously) Mission is good. Can't say much obviously, but I should be back next week.

HOLLY: Great, so that gives me at least a few days to fix any damage Cosette did before you get home.

HOLLY AS OAK: Man, Holly, I had the craziest dream last night slash this morning. There was this werewolf, and first it ate Willard, and I was like "Fuck yeah!!!" (Three exclamation marks) but then it ate you, and then it ate me, and then I looked down and I was holding a cage with Frogger—remember the rabbit I accidentally killed when I was 10?—and I was like "OH SHIT" (in all caps) and started running, but I was dead, right?

HOLLY AS OAK: (Reading monotonously) So then I remembered my legs were eaten, and that's when I dropped Frogger's cage down a storm drain. And I don't know how the entire fucking cage even fit, but it did, and it went into the storm drain and I was like "NOOOOOOOOO!!!" (With, mm, eight... nine?! O's and three exclamation marks.) But anyway yeah, then the werewolf was down there eating Frogger. I don't know what that means but I'm really fucking stressed every time I wake up from it.

HOLLY: Yeah, I don't know what that means either, sorry Oak.

HOLLY AS OAK: (Reading) I'm also having a recurring nightmare about me and you playing street hockey with the Goldsteins and their neighbors. Everyone is playing hockey really gently, and you pass the puck to me, and I'm like "YEAH" (all caps) and hit a slapshot right into Emma Rosen's goaltender mask. Except for some reason we were using an egg for a puck, so, yeah, kind of a gross and disturbing dream.

HOLLY: (Laughs) Uh, yeah, what the fuck? Are you eating pizza before bed again? You know that gives you weird dreams!

HOLLY AS OAK: Anyway, it's probably just anxiety or whatever. I sent you some vitamins and supplements. Did you get them?

HOLLY: Yes, thanks. I've been taking them every day, so stop stressing about that. I'm fine. I could be way more malnourished and sleep-deprived than I am.

HOLLY AS OAK: Are you getting enough sleep and staying hydrated?

HOLLY: Like I said, I can't sleep, but I think it's just because the shelter beds are really uncomfortable. I take naps sometimes in the park, like, under a shady tree with a cheap blanket and an inflatable bath pillow I carry around. No one bothers me during the day because I just prop a library book near me, so it looks like I just fell asleep reading.

HOLLY: As for staying hydrated... I mean, I'm trying. The water here still makes me gag, but I sneak lemon packets and get free ice water whenever I can. Like I said, I did pass out in the laundromat yesterday, but I'm just not used to being quite this overheated all the time. I'm fine now. I drank some water, and I'll try to go at night next time.

HOLLY AS OAK: So you're going with Ivy for sure? The finalists are all pretty good, so I don't think there's a right choice. You should go with your gut. I trust your judgment on this.

HOLLY: Well, thank you, and yes, I'm pretty sure I'm going with Ivy and the other one we discussed? I haven't decided for sure yet, but I have a good feeling about those two.

HOLLY AS OAK: Has Leia Janeway forgiven you yet? Don't feel bad. It could happen to anyone. You're not exactly graceful even under the best of circumstances.

HOLLY: (Sighs) I think she's forgiven me, it's just that every time she starts to trust me again I step on some new part of her body and the cycle starts all over. She acts like she understands and doesn't hold it against me, but she also acts like "WHY GOD WHY," which apparently are not mutually exclusive feelings. Hopefully she'll forgive me.

HOLLY AS OAK: I know I say this every time, but please make sure you're ready to run at a moment's notice. I promise I'm doing my best to make sure nothing happens, but it scares the ever-living shit out of me that I'm over here and you're in a godforsaken place like Alabama and no one but the U.S. government is watching out for you. Nothing is going to happen, but if anything does happen—

HOLLY: (Annoyed) Yeah, I know, I know, I need to go dark if anything happens to you. I don't understand why you won't tell me why, though! Or what could possibly be going on.

HOLLY AS OAK: I'm fucking over this assignment already and can't wait to inhale some Thai food with you the second I get back. Can you eat Thai food right now, or will you spontaneously combust? Whatever, we'll celebrate with something yummy. Maybe Mexican, since they don't have that over here.

HOLLY: I don't know, I'm, I’m pretty sure I can eat Thai food. And I know I can eat Mexican. (Hungrily) Both of those sound great, actually. (A very soft moan, as if she's imagining the food.) All right, that's the new plan: Thai or Mexican food next week, as soon as you get home. Whatever we don't eat for lunch we'll eat for dinner and... hm, yeah. I like this plan.

HOLLY AS OAK: Holy fuck, did you see this?

HOLLY: And, uh, I clicked on it, and it's a link to the BBC article about Jodie Whittaker as the new Doctor. Yeah, I saw, and... what a time to be alive! I just hope they don't change anything about River Song being her wife.

HOLLY AS OAK: I'm totally caught up on Greater Boston and Jim Robbie now. You were right—they're totally my jam. Got any other recommendations?

HOLLY: Yeah, I do. So the first one I'd recommend is a British comedy called Wooden Overcoats. It's about these siblings who work in a funeral home in the English Channel, I think, and… and anyway, this really hot guy moves in across the street and starts stealing all of their business. And the narrator is a mouse. So it's this weird mix of morbid humor and uplifting shit that, I don't know, it completely reminds me of you.

HOLLY: Another one I think you'd like is called EOS 10. It's kind of like Scrubs meets Futurama, so obviously it's right up your alley. Wooden Overcoats and EOS 10 are both pretty short, but hopefully since you're supposed to get back next week—

SOUND: PHONE VIBRATING

HOLLY: Huh, speak of the devil. I am getting a text from you right now.

HOLLY: "I'm sorry"? Oh. Goddammit, what did you do?

SOUND: PHONE VIBRATING

HOLLY: "Run and hide"— Why? Why??? What did you do?!

SOUND: PHONE VIBRATING

HOLLY: I can't run! Why the fuck would you think I can run right now?

SOUND: PHONE VIBRATING REPEATEDLY

SOUND: HELICOPTER IN DISTANCE

HOLLY: Okay, fine! Not that you can hear me, but I'm going, I'm going right now.

SOUND: HOLLY STRUGGLING TO HER FEET

SOUND: MILITARY HELICOPTER APPROACHING

SOUND: HOLLY RUNNING ON PAVEMENT

HOLLY: (Running with difficulty, muttering under her breath) Goddammit, Mica!

SOUND: INT WALMART NOISES

SOUND: HOLLY RUNNING ON TILE

HOLLY: (Panting) Excuse me, where (gasps) where are the fireworks?! ... Thank you!

SOUND: HOLLY RUNNING

HOLLY: (To Oak) Anyway, (panting) fuck you, (pant) fuck General Willard, (pant) fuck everyone who took his side, and (pant) fuck society, fuck Walmart for being so big, and f–fuck everything! I'm fucking sick to death of this goddamn fucking shit!

SOUND: A LIGHTER FLICKING

HOLLY: Okay, signing off! (softer) Fuck...

SOUND: FIREWORKS EXPLODING

MUSIC: OUTRO (“SOLITUDE” BY MUCIOJAD)

#transcript #transcripts #oakpodcast

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