#(not for lack of trying either!! i tried to get a different french class in earlier semesters but they Never fit around my music classes)
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i need one last french class to finish my degree which is fine because thereâs actually a french class i can take this semester. unfortunately itâs a subject thatâs not particularly relevant to me and part of the homework includes video chatting with strangers in french and conducting mock job interviews in french, and then watching the videos back and commenting on my own performance. and itâs the only french class offered this semester thatâs available to me since the only other ones iâve already fucking taken
#sasha speaks#HELL ON EARTH.#my french comprehension is decent but it's way better in reading/writing than speaking/listening#yeah yeah actually talking to french speakers in french is the only way to get better at that i know but#i am so awful at making conversation with strangers in ENGLISH how am i supposed to do that with strangers in FRENCH#and i DETEST watching/listening to myself on recording i swear to gd i just can't fucking do it#this is why every video audition i've had to submit for anything has sucked hard#but i don't have any other options...it's The Only Class I Can Take to finish my degree#(not for lack of trying either!! i tried to get a different french class in earlier semesters but they Never fit around my music classes)#i wanna talk about me
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OOOH two chapters in one week??? damn even iâm jealous. of myself. though this also isnât edited so i might read it tomorrow morning and regret life, soooo
Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3
Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Ao3
Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman
Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^
oooOOOooo
The large plant in the street wasnât promising.
Neither was the very loud scream of pain they heard as they arrived to the scene.
Damian mightâve popped some knuckles when he clenched his fists, he wasnât fully paying attention. What the ever-loving fucking hell in a fuck was Ivy doing? Harley best not be here too or Damian may strangle both of them for coming near his Angel.
Deep fucking breaths Iâm going to fucking lose it-
When they arrived, father signaled a quick âto first two followâ plan and he and Grayson went ahead, leaving Damian and Drake on the roof. Damian itched to jump and move forward. The worry was awful, filling his mind with the most unrealistic of thoughts. He tried to correct them, prove them wrong, but they were overwhelming.
What if I check through her window to make sure sheâs in there and oka- he didnât know which room she had and it would take too long.
What if the scream was hers- It was deeper, male sounding.
What if she was crushed under that plant- She wouldnât be, right? There wasnât any evidence of someone being under there-
What if sheâs hurt? Afraid? Dying?
He heard yelling. Angry yelling, in a male voice. The constricting worry reminded him of every dangerous male villain in Gotham right now. He went through a list of those currently MIA, those who mightâve yelled. It didnât make sense, no villain sighting was reported aside from IvyâŠ
But it was possible.
And the possibility made Damian want to puke.
He had to move he had to do something. He jumped down. It hadnât been enough time yet but he didnât care. He heard Drake hiss something in warning about Batmanâs orders or something Damian didnât fucking care about, because he had to see for himself. He had to walk in there and he had to make sure she was okay.
Before he could go in, he saw Ivy walk out through the door. What?! he moved to intercept her before seeing the blood going down her leg- What the fucking fuck happened?! Why was she bleeding?
Ivy raised a brow when she saw him. âI got a pass this time, bird. Might want to help them in there.â
The sick feeling returned. He didnât want to trust a villain, a criminal⊠but Ivy wasnât the most horrible.
He eyed the blood, the worried weeds supplying images of his Angel bleeding in the same way. Ivy was not the worst that could happen⊠His mind went through that handy list of villains again. Many much worse than Ivy.
Damian turned away from Ivy. Father and Grayson shattered the window the plant hadnât gone through, he made a motion toward it before Drake grabbed his shoulder.
âLet go of me you-â
âIf youâre going to disobey Batman, at least let me go with you,â Drake looked exasperated. âYouâre focused on your friend, right? Someone needs to watch your ass then.â
Damian glared before prying Drakeâs hand off his shoulder. If he wanted to follow, fine. Damian wouldnât stop him. He went through the broken window and finally entered the hotel.
The vending machine was unplugged and face down on the ground, glass surrounding it. Ivyâs giant plant was in the middle of the room, steam thicker than the pot it previously inhabited and petals as big as the Batmobileâs tires. Other miscellaneous things were strewn across the room, including cut hair near the elevator.
But what had Damianâs heart pounding was the playing cards. Playing cards that were embedded in the walls and the front desk and the floor. Razor sharp playing cards. A certain villainâs playing cards.
Fucking fucking shit fuck bitch ass fuck-
âFather,â Damianâs voice was surprisingly level as he spoke. His eyes landed on the fucking purple suited clown mother fucker himself. âWhat is Joker doing here?â
Father however seemed to be answering something Grayson must have said, âIt appears she was rescuingâŠâ
Ivy was rescuing.
Ivy was helping.
Damianâs eyes scanned the room right as someone else made themselves known.
Marinette!
The air left his lungs. She looked worse for wear, dark circles under her eyes and blood- fucking hell blood on her person. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind, and Damian wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Help her.
He opened his mouth to speak, stepping toward her.
She began to sob.
As if Damian somehow needed to panic even more.
âIâm sorry,â the words were quietly choked out between hics and sobs. âIâm a hor- horrible person and-â
âHey now,â Grayson took a step closer, trying to comfort her. Damianâs feet were stuck to the floor, the words stuck in his mouth, preventing him from doing the same. âIâm sure youâre not-â
She held up her hands, showing the blood on them. Damian inhaled sharply when he saw the bits of glass embedded into her palm â the green haired fuck hurt her.
âI broke his leg,â she took a big gulp of air. Damian bit back the words and he deserved it. âWith a rock. And I threw things at him. A chocolate bar, a cookie, a phone, a lamp, a vending machine-â
âA vending machine?â His father glanced at the vending machine on the ground. Damian didnât bother trying to decipher his expression, Marinette was turning red and gasping between her sobs. She needed to breathe.
âMiss, please calm down,â Grayson began to step toward her. Damianâs feet finally moved, and he began surging toward her as well.
She fell, nearly hitting her head on the way down. Damian caught her before she could though, barely. Fuck, she needed to breathe like yesterday.
âIâm terrible, horrible, I shouldnât have done this,â the words used the last of her breath and were only a whisper.
Panic made his throat feel stuck and his voice thick. âAngel,â Damian spoke as calmly as he could. âYou need to breathe.â
She didnât breathe.
oooOOOooo
Usually, lack of sleep was associated with the coffee obsessed Drake, but it seemed Damianâs own mind was determined to show him what it was like to live like a lunatic. He wasnât able to sleep even when he tried, though he didnât try that much either. Heâs pretty sure he spent an hour staring at his weedkiller order â an order that somehow got lost in Kentucky â wishing it to suddenly appear at the front gate. Then again after coming home, most of the night was a blur.
He rubbed his eyes and let his thoughts wander through the memories of last night. Or, early morning technically.
Marinette looked delicate and broken on the stretcher as she was loaded into the ambulance. Damian had to turn his head away. He saw Drake and Todd looking at him, but he didnât want their fucking pity.
Sheâd be fine.
She had to be.
After Angel had passed out, she began to breathe again. She immediately got medical attention for her injuries, riding in a different ambulance than Joker, who also got medical attention at Arkham. Damian wanted nothing more than to skin him alive as he left, but he avoided doing it for the time being. Barely.
âThereâs some of Jokerâs laughing shit over here, B-man.â
âHave Red Robin neutralize it. Weâll have to check the tapes and see if anyone was affected.â
âBesides the guy whoâs body we found behind the desk, I donât think anyone else got hit. But good call. Red Robin, over here!â
Drake got the security camera feed and Damian saw the entirety of what happened in the hotel lobby. His Angel fought bravely and intelligently, though he couldnât say he was a fan of the bitch who left her behind.
âWhy did she go for the elevator? Iâd hate being stuck in there with the Joker. And she let her classmate just fight?â
âMaybe she called for help once she got away. And even if she didnât, we canât judge a teenager for panicking in this situation, Tim. Damianâs friend is an anomaly.â
âI donât know⊠too bad the cameras donât have audio, I wonder what sheâs saying before they realize that Joker is there.â
âAre you able to read her lips?â
âGolly jee I wish I fucking thought of that! Thanks for reminding me to read her lips on this old and grainy camera footage where you can barely tell her eyes from her nose!â
âJesus Replacement, no need to bite my head off.â
Damian looked into it,and found that no calls were made to the police until the plant fell through the window. The calls then were about Ivy appearing, deduced by people nearby who saw the plant. That good for nothing bitch left my Angel with the Joker-
âNo calls were made by anyone within the hotel. All the calls were made by people on the street or living nearby who saw the plant.â
âHmm⊠OddâŠâ
ââŠIâm sorry but how the fuck did someone sleep through a giant ass plant breaking the main floor windows? How?!â
âMaybe itâs a French secret.â
He shook his head. After they got all the information, father decided to send the French children back early and pay for it himself. Damian, internally, knew why. He painted a target on Angelâs back, if she didnât have one before.
âYou realize he heard you, right?â
âWhat do you want, Todd?â
âFucksâ sake demon spawn, listen to me. Joker heard you call her Angel.â
ââŠâ
âI was already aware of that. Iâve made plans to have the class moved back in Paris. If it gets around, Sheâll be an ocean away and more difficult to harm.â
âAlright, B. Was just trying to warn Demon Spawn.â
âMaybe next time he wonât fuck up.â
âTim, no need to be harsh.â
âItâs vigilante 101, Bruce. Damianâs been doing this for years.â
âPerhaps instead of being berated for a mistake he didnât intend, you should let Master Damian retire to his room to rest.â
Damian grumbled to himself, trying to push the intrusive awful worrisome thoughts out of his head. The ones that said maybe going back to Paris wouldnât be enough to protect her. The ones that said Joker would want revenge, the ones that-
The ones that he wasnât fucking listening to right now thank you very fucking much!
Damian sighed to himself. He needed some sleep. After handling the news, getting the class handled, and looking into everything involving Jokerâs break in at the hotel he was told to get to bed as the sun began rising. It hadnât really worked, as now a few hours later he was debating stealing some of Drakeâs coffee to make it through the day.
Because he did have one very important task to do today. He needed to check on his Angel, and say goodbye to her. He had her number of course, and they could text as often as possible for the two of them, but he still needed to see her. See her and apologize for how horrible this trip mustâve turned out for her.
Iâm bad luck, being near me ruined her trip.
Damian went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, ignoring that train of thought.
Riddler attacked her when I was there. Joker appeared after I dropped her off. I made her unlucky. I got her hurt.
Itâd be easier to ignore that train of thought if it werenât so fucking loud.
Time felt blurry right now. Probably because he was tired. But soon he was dressed in a hoodie and sunglasses, disguised so he didnât get mobbed by paparazzi while visiting his Angel in the hotel. He was pulling his shoes on when there was a knock at the door.
âWhat do you want?â The knocking bounced in his head and made it hurt. Maybe he had a migraine, he wasnât sure.
âSuch a nice way to say good morning Demon Spawn,â Todd strolled in like he fucking owned the place and leaned against the wall next to the door. Damian wondered what itâd be like to have Jonâs laser sight so he could glare at Todd and kill him.
âYou didnât have permission to come in.â
âI wanted to talk to you.â
âThat doesnât mean you get to.â
âTough shit,â Todd rolled his eyes. ââŠYou⊠alright?â
Damian narrowed his eyes at him. âWhy are you asking something like that?â
âYour friend got attacked and is leaving the city because of a target on her back. Which, while I did point out that you called her a petname in front of Joker-â
âIt isnât a petname-â
â-It isnât your fault.â
The words starkly contrasted Damianâs internal beliefs and he had to blink a few moments to make sure what he heard was real. Because what the fuck? Why would Todd try to convince him his fuck up somehow wasnât his fucking fault!?
âItâs⊠not my fault that I stupidly revealed a relationship connection to a civilian in front of one of the worst villains this city has suffered?â
âOkay, that was all you, smartass,â Todd sighed. âbut the other shit isnât your fault. You didnât hurt her, the fucked up clown did. You didnât put her in danger, her fucking teacher and class did by abandoning her. Youâre at fault for your actions, not other peopleâs, so if youâre blaming yourself then fucking stop. Frecklesâd probably get upset if you were using her to hate yourself.â
âWhat on this planet makes you think Iâm doing that?!â Damianâs voice rose in a snap, hypocritically, because he realized as he spoke the words that he⊠kind of was doing that.
Fucking feelings and fucking worry and fucking weeds in his head were the reason, of course, but he⊠was⊠fuck, heâs tired isnât he?
âI died, Demon Spawn.â Damian raised a brow at Todd, waiting for the halfwit to continue. âBruce and I⊠arenât on the best of terms, but I did realize he⊠he did that. Where what Joker did was his fault. Iâm not happy the fucker is still alive, but that doesnât mean Bruce was the one who killed me. No that was all Joker.â
âWhat does that have to do with anything again?â Damian really just wanted Todd out of his room and not talking about things in the past. He totally understood his point and everything, but it wasnât anything a gallon sized bottle of weedkiller wouldnât fix.
âWow, you must be really tired, damn,â the fucker smirked before his expression changed into something less asshole-ish. âIâm saying that if youâre blaming yourself for what the Joker did to Freckles, stop it. The fucker lost a leg and sheâs on her way to the hotel from the hospital now.â
Wait.
Wait what?
âWait what?!â Damian wasnât even sure which one he was reacting to â the news that Angel was okay or the news that the Joker was permanently damaged.
Angelâs self defense mightâve permanently helped Gotham?!
Okay maybe he knew what he was reacting to.
Todd turned to leave like a fucking dickhead and Damian could hear the smirk in his voice as he walked away. âCheck the news for the Joker thing and ask Alfred to take you to Freckles in like an hour.â
Damian was smart enough to realize that not checking out of spite for Todd would only disadvantage himself.
He still only checked a couple minutes later though. After glaring at his phone willing himself to somehow know without checking.
He needing headache pills.
oooOOOooo
The Unnamed Teenager That Defeated The Riddler Cripples Joker!
Just days after beating The Riddler at his own game, the same teenage girl holds off The Joker until Batman arrives!
âWe had to amputate him below the knee,â Arkham doctor says. âThere was too much glass in the wound, it cut several muscles, tendons, and arties. The shattered bone didnât help.â
French Teenager Unavailable for Comment.
[Read More]
oooOOOooo
Damian had snuck through the lobby up to his Angelâs room. Some of her classmates were downstairs, but he hadnât paid much attention to them, not caring at the moment.
The last memory he had of her was the blood on her hands and tears in her eyes before she fell to the floor. He wanted to change that, wanted to maybe even see if he could get her to smile. Though that felt ambitiousâŠ
He just⊠needed to make sure she was okay.
Damian knocked on Marinetteâs hotel room door.
#daminette#maribat#damimari#maridami#marinettexdamian#damian x marinette#Damian Wayne#Marinette#joker#joker mention#he's pretty quiet in this POV#the badassness is in AiG#rip mari's health#in a week alfred be like master wayne#why is there a delivery for weedkiller in your name#damian takes it from his hands#and chugs
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my teen angst bullshit has a body count
by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra
Rating: T
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents
Summary:
âCorrecting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. Iâm saying youâre a teacherâs pet, loser. And one day, everyoneâs going to see it for the act that it is, and when they doââ
Peterâs hearing blanks out.
Pet.
It echoes.
Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.
Read on AO3
My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!
Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:
ââBut Iâm asking if itâs a good movie.â
âIâm telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.â Ned shakes his head dramatically. âEverybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.â
âBut I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bugâs Life like last week!â
âBecause you hadnât seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I donât help you fix it, who will?!â
Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a personâs entertainment consumption, as heâs learned more than ever now that heâs surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.
âI mean, Steve does have a listâŠâ Peter points out weakly.
Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesnât understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peterâs never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesnât really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.
Ned stops them in the hall. âYeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who havenât been alive for the last 100 years?â
â...You know that I donât really know the difference.â
Ned gives a sad shake of his head. âYouâre lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise weâd be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.â
âYou still didnât answer the question.â
Peter got to pick the movie for their classesâ Cinco de Mayo party. Peterâs not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Armyâs historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.
âYou know, Parker, I have a question,â comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.
Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.
Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.
âYouâll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.â
âWait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?â
âMusic endures, dude.â
âHey, el idiots, Iâm talking to you!â Flash interrupts again.
âThatâs not even how youââ Peter starts to correct, only to realize heâs stepped directly in it when Ned groans.
Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. âJust canât help yourself, can you, Penis?â
âI donât know what youâre talking about,â Peter grumbles. It doesnât really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he wonât bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because heâs really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.
Peter breathes in, steeling himself. Heâs survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peterâs an easy target.
In some way, Peterâs actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.
(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasnât evil, if he wasnât like them, then why didnât he just fight back? But Sam says thatâs just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)
Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peterâs face to get his attention back.
âYouâd think for such a genius, youâd be a lot quicker on the uptake.â Flash shakes his head like heâs disappointed.
âPlease just get to the point already,â Ned begs, throwing his head back.
âCorrecting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. Iâm saying youâre a teacherâs pet, loser. And one day, everyoneâs going to see it for the act that it is, and when they doââ
Peterâs hearing blanks out.
Pet.
It echoes.
Câmere, Pet.
Stay down, Pet!
He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be gratefulâKneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your mastersâbut he doesnât want to, he doesnâtâ
Foolish Pet, you wouldnât survive out there.
You need us, Pet. Youâll always need us.
âPeter?â
He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he canât take in another.
His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he wonât get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and theyâre watching him he knows theyâre watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he wouldâ
âPeter, whatâs wrong, are youâ?â
He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he canât live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that heâs proud. He canât be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.
âPeter, wait!â
Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Techâs front office.
He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.
The Spider.
Peter didnât like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didnât want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.
As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tonyâs never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.
It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.
Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.
Thatâs why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.
Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.
But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.
Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?
All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.
Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smartâtactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.
But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but theyâd found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.
Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?
Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and Iâll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.
Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtownâs entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.
So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.
An âincidentâ of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peterâs family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.
That was Tony.
Part of Tony couldnât fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasnât exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.
Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you werenât. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.
He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.
When he said his first words.
When he told Tony his nameânot Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAYâs records.
When he touched Tonyâs arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.
He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.
He was Peterâs family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.
And also, you know. His money was paying Peterâs tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peterâs manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasnât like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.
And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?
Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtownâs parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. Heâs checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Moritaâs bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if thatâs what it takes.
Again, not that Tony doesnât trust Peter, itâs just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.
Itâs been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids canât all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like heâs been training to do. Maybe something was broken.
Maybe itâs something far worse.
Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.
At the very least, the police arenât on site. Thatâs probably a good sign that theyâre willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.
The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.
A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitorâs closet.
Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peterâs age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tonyâs starting to wonder if thatâs where Peterâs new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.
âMister Leedsââ An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.
The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.
âIâm sorry, sir, but Iâm not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.â
âIâm sure his parentsââ
âHe doesnât even haveâyou donât even know what heâs gone through!â
âAnd you do?â
âWell...kinda? No. Butâbut heâs obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!â
The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.
âNed, I recognize youâre just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem forââ
Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.
The older man sighs. âOh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. Weâll take it from here.â
The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.
âMister Stark, Iâm glad you could come down, though Iâm sorry itâs under these circumstances. Iâm Principal Morita.â
âObviously you know who I am,â Tony replies, shaking the manâs hand. âWhat did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.â
âI told you, itâs Flashâs fault! He was being a dick andââ Ned shouts.
âMister Leeds.â The principal interrupts, stern. âAnother student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didnât take it well and locked himself in the closet. I havenât even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peterâs side of the story, but...â
He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.
âThe bouncer is a real stickler, got it,â Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. âPeter does seem to attract the protective type.â
âOh,â Ned says, suddenly meeting Tonyâs eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who heâs talking to. âOh, wow. Mister Stark, itâs an honor. Iâm a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, âOh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!â and he was like âOh. Yeah, I guess youâd know who he is, huh?â like he totally didnât get how awesome it is that youâre Iron Man. And I know youâre only kind of his dad, but stillââ
âItâs suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,â Tony responds, keeping his smile on.
Itâs actually kind of sweet to see that Peterâs found someone to confide in, even if heâs seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.
If Peter wants to see him, that is.
He does, doesnât he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peterâs little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasnât gotten old enough to not want Tony around when heâs upset, right?
âSorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,â Ned apologizes. âIâm just nervous and worried about Peter andââ
âI get it, kid. Youâre good.â He gives a reassuring grasp to Nedâs shoulder. âBut if you wouldnât mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but Iâm usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.â
âRight, yeah. Iâll justââ
Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesnât trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.
âPeterââ
âLet him in,â replies Peterâs strained voice. Heâs definitely been crying. Poor kid.
Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.
âYou did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,â he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.
The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isnât the kindest to his sense of smell if itâs making Tony already scrunch his nose.
Itâs lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.
âHey, Pete.â Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.
Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. âHey.â
Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. âSo, I hear you got your first bully.â
Peter shrugs. âGuess so.â
âThat Ted kid is pretty nice. Heâs a good friend.â
âYeah. And his name is Ned.â
Tony stops beating around the bush. âWhat happened, Peter?â
âIt was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didnât even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so thatâs what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!â
â...But?â
âBut then Flashââ
âI meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?â
âNo.â
âOh thank god.â
âFlash saidâŠhe said I was aâŠâ Peterâs hesitant to let it out.
âPete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. Theyâre going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensiveââ
âHe said I was a teacherâs pet.â
Thereâs a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesnât want to belittle what Peterâs feeling, but he also doesnât understand why itâs caused him so much stress.
âI know, I know itâsâbut they used toââ Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. âSometimes, before, they would call meâŠâ
âPet.â
Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.
âThey liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Likeâlike being locked in the cages or collared orâor being muzzled was good for me.â
âYou need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.â Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. âBut I didnât want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didnât want to be their pet and they made meââ
âPeter, I know. Itâs not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.â
Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.
âWhen Flash called me that I justâI felt the collar around my neck again and I couldnât breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small andââ
âPeterââ Peterâs hyperventilating. Heâs panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.
âAnd I know thatâs not what Flash meant but I was back there and I canâtâI canât stopââ
Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tonyâs shirt and clutching on tight.
âOh, Pete. Itâs okay. Youâre okay,â Tony soothes.
He presses a kiss to Peterâs hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.
âSometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, itâs alright.â
âBut donât wanna think about it anymore!â Peter cries childishly.
If it wouldnât break Tonyâs ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.
âWhat if it gets bad and I donât talk anymore and I canât go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you wonât want me anymore because I canât get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners toââ
âPeter Parker, no. Absolutely not.â
Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boyâs face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.
âYouâre not property, and youâre not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.â
Not just because Peterâs been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because heâs talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldnât have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.
Heâs not the child soldier they raised anymore. Heâs so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.
He loosens his grip on Peterâs face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth heâs made, the family heâs gained.
âBuddy, you are getting better. I know it. Iâve seen it. You know weâre all so proud of you and the progress youâve made.â
Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now heâll just be able to move on from it scott-free. Itâs what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.
âThat doesnât mean you wonât have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesnât make you anything that they said you were. Youâre a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything heâs worked so hard for. And youâre going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. Youâre not alone, youâre not in a cage, youâreâyouâre home, Pete. You understand?â
Peter sniffs, a sign that heâs worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tonyâs chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.
âListen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.â He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldnât have gone this far for any other kid in the world.
âIt doesnât matter what happensâhitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. Youâre our kid now, Peter. Youâre never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.â
He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesnât have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.
âIâm never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.â
Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tonyâs arms that Peter hasnât really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.
Peter didnât tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesnât have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.
They sit there for another minute, Peterâs whimpers muffled in Tonyâs dress shirt. Heâs sure the principal and Peterâs friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.
âFeel better?â
Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.
âLook, I think schoolâs a bust for the day. Letâs go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?â
âAnd if you wanted, I guessâŠâ
Peter tilts his head, expectant.
âWe could...nah, itâs probably offensive, right?â
âWhat?â Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also canât resist an idea once it pops into his head.
âI just thought, you know, if you wantedâif you thought it would help, we could get you aââ He almost ruins it, but catches himself. âAn animal. Like a dog or something.â
Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.
âIs that bad? You donât have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if notââ
Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.
âWhat kind of dog?â
#irondad#spiderson#au#friendly neighborhood exchange 2021#marvel#peter parker#tony stark#my writing#hailxhydra
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girl watcher
Danielâs the only boy in his circle of trust. On his right side, thereâs Sadie, clinging tightly to his hand. But across from him sit three other girls: Kim Campbell, captain of the dance team (St. Catherineâs big claim to fame is its lack of a cheerleading squad); Vicky St. John, who wore Chanel No. 5 and lost to Lucy in the race for student body president; Gina Lumetta, who brought pizza for the whole class on her tenth birthday and has, since that day, acted like everyone owes her a favor for it. The longer the girls look at him, the more Daniel wants to fall through the floor and disappear forever.
He just hopes Sadie doesnât realize.
Kim holds the handout that Mrs. Renaud gave them before splitting everybody into groups. She straightens her spine and clears her throat before reading the next question, which makes Sadie roll her eyes. She likes to be the leader. Daniel squeezes her hand and wonders if she knows why. At the very least, he just hopes it distracts her.
âLetâs see,â Kim says, voice a little too knowing. ââIs there something in your life you wish you hadnât done?ââ
Before anyone answers, Sadie snorts. Kim gives her a look.
âIs that funny to you, Sadie?â she asks.
âWell, yeah,â Sadie says. âItâs so personal. Am I really supposed to share my soul in front of all of you? We barely know each other.â
âItâs a circle of trust,â Vicky doubles down. Kim and Gina nod vigorously on either side.
âPlus, weâve all known each other since preschool,â Gina adds. âItâs not like weâre complete strangers or anything.â
âWeâve been in classes together since preschool, but we donât know each other,â Sadie says. âI mean, what do you know about me besides my name and that Iâm Samâs twin sister?â
âWe know youâre going out with Daniel,â Kim says, and Vicky and Gina laugh.
Sadie makes a face like she doesnât get it. Daniel makes a face like heâs relieved. Then, Vicky throws her hands up in some kind of surrender.
âOK, Iâll go first,â she says. âI wish I hadnât tried beer at Kimâs cousinâs party a few years ago. It was so gross, and I felt so sick.â
Kim and Gina laugh like it was yesterday, and Vicky eventually joins in, too. To her horror, Sadie notices a knowing smile on Danielâs face, too. She taps him on the shoulder.
âWere you around for that?â she asks. âWhen Vicky drank beer at this party?â
Daniel bites his lip. He knows he canât lie to Sadie, as badly as he might want to, just to make it all go away. He sighs and squeezes her hand again.
âYeah,â he says quietly. âIt was â82. Things were different. I was different. Vicky invited me to the party, and I went. And believe me, she didnât just âtryâ or âdrinkâ that beer. She was three sheets to the wind. Six sheets, maybe.â
Sadie exhales, trying and failing to laugh.
âWhy did Vicky invite you?â
Danielâs voice cracks as he tries to come up with an answer. Thankfully, Gina interrupts.
âIâll go next,â she says. âI wish I never took my momâs car to Wendyâs when I only had my learnerâs permit.â
This time, Vicky and Kim laugh together.
âYou got pulled over!â Vicky says.
âAnd you still canât get a license,â Kim adds.
âI know,â Gina says, shaking her head. âEvery time I ride down Telegraph, I think ⊠there I was.â
The three girls giggle, and Sadie taps Daniel on the arm again.
âWere you working at the Wendyâs on Telegraph then?â she asks. âDo you remember when Gina Lumetta got pulled over by the cops?â
âNo,â Daniel says, and thatâs not even a lie. âI mean ⊠I was working there, but I wasnât in the store. I heard about it, though.â
Sadie nods, and Daniel hopes she doesnât realize he heard about it from Gina.
âAll right,â Kim says. âI guess itâs my turn now. I wish I hadnât been late to French class three times at the end of freshman year.â
âWhy not?â Vicky asks.
Kim fixes her eyes on Daniel before she answers the question. Daniel gulps like a cartoon character, and this time, Sadie definitely notices. She knits her brows like sheâs going to be sick.
âBecause then I wouldnât have gotten detention,â she says. âAnd then ⊠well, I think I know what would be different about me.â
She winks at Daniel, and all of a sudden, Sadie realizes. Sheâs not crazy. Sheâs not crazy at all. All those years, sheâd heard Daniel talking to Will and Sam about his nights out with different girls, but sheâd never heard any of their names. And when she never heard their names, it was easy to pretend they went to different schools â that of course Daniel wouldnât choose another girl from St. Catherineâs over her, someone whoâd always loved him, someone who knew him so well. She canât run from it anymore. Sheâd always known it, anyway.
Daniel has slept with every girl in this circle. Every girl, that is, except for Sadie.
She slumps down in her chair and hopes the ground opens up to take her under, too. Kim gives Daniel another coy look.
âWhat about you, Daniel?â she asks. âWhat do you wish you never would have done?â
Daniel rubs the back of his neck, almost like heâs going to find an answer there. But he doesnât. He doesnât say anything. He just makes a bunch of awkward, painful noises, like the Tin Man before he gets his oil can. Sadie lets go of his hand â not because she wants to, but because she thinks she has to. Daniel DeLuca doesnât want to hold hands with a virgin, she thinks. And why should he?
He looks at her with pleading eyes, but her head is turned. She never sees it.
#drabble#ch: sadie doyle#ch: daniel deluca#year: 1984#ship: still the same#series: love will keep us together
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 â ê°â§âșparis run away  *àłàŒ
â·Â heeseung x reader ⯠âĄá”
â·genre: fluff | comdey ⯠âĄá”
â· warnings: not proofread | none! ⯠âĄá”
â· synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesnât know whatâs missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⯠âĄá”Â
â· author note: this is @enhypenwritersâ event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like itâs lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⯠âĄá”
âââ  ïœĄïŸâ: *.✠.* :âïŸ. ââââââ  ïœĄïŸâ: *.✠.*
you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.
you wouldnât say youâve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.
yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.
you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.
you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.
the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.
one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.
you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.
bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms
people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.
as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself
how the hell did you get here?
2 days earlier
clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.
the graduation from high school to university.
your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.
minjiâs mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the âperfect graduation photoâ as she had put it
"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3" Â your friend's mom counts.
the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.
shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.
minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.
"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.
you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.
"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands
you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"
"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.
"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.
"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.
you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.
"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."
she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.
"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.
on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.
"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.
the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet.Â
you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.
you bitterly smiled.Â
for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,
1 day ago
you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.
your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.
his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort
you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.
sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.
your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan.Â
it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."
"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.
"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip
"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retortedÂ
"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer
"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes
it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business
"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says
of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?
you huff, " okay then"
"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"
sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."
"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "
it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president.Â
sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.
you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.
sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"
"easy for you to say, you, who isnât dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.
"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.
"obviously not to paris"
"not to paris"
"to paris"
"paris"
what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue.Â
you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."
sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.
"no, you have to think rationally-"
you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.
"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "
your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.
"but-"
"no buts! pass me my laptop,"
present-day
you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.
you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.
peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.
you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.
you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.
maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.
your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.
you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head.Â
the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.
"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.
"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed
as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"
"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih
you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.
"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.
you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.
"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.
"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.
"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.
she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"
"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"
you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.
"well, i would say i'm here to explore? Â i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."
you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence
"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"
she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.
just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.
"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"
it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.
"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"
"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.
the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.
unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.
you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.
with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.
you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.
"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-"Â
sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.
"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.
"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.
"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.
"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.
"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?"Â
though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.
"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"
jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.
"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"
you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."
"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"
"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.
"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?â
you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"
"be safe, love you!"
"i will! love you too"
you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that.Â
paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.
first challengeÂ
getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.
first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.
thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.
"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers
"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.
she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.
the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.
"where are you heading mademoiselle?"
you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"
you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head.Â
"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"
you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"
"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"
"i'm (y/n)"
"it's nice to meet you"
"likewise"
the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,
 after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.
feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.
"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"
you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.
"here, give me your phone."
you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.
you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.
"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"
you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.
"thank you elena"
she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.
"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"
you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.
and that was the first friend you met in france.
second challenge
checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.
"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.
"merci beaucoup," Â you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.
you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice.Â
red, green
the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.
at first glance, your mouth dropped.
the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.
though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.
overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.
the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't
"(y/n) shut down in,"
"3"
"2"
"1"
before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.
'ouch that hurt'
you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.
what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.
first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.
 1) taking a shower
showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up
2) skincare
after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.
3) fueling with food
food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.
unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.
reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.
being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.
"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything.Â
everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.
third challengeÂ
cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.
you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time.Â
you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.
after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,
"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"
you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.
eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.
that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.
you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.
you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.
yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didnâ toriginally have a plan
for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.
 jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.
before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.
'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'
you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.
you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.
you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.
you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.
you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.
you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.
a distinct gasp could be heard from you.
subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.
the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.
you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.
elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.
it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.
the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'
'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.
you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.
"nice song"
a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.
you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit
the balcony alongside you.
"thank you"
you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.
"new to paris?"
he questioned, now you guys facing each other.
"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"
you asked before he softly smiles.
"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."
you hum as a response
"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"
you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?
"english song, random guess"
you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.
there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.
"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"
that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you.Â
the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.
as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?
"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"
he stifles a laugh.
"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"
you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.
"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."
this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.
you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice alreadyÂ
"number one, dangerous"
"number two, dangerous!"
"number three, DANGEROUS!"
but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.
"alright then"
a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.
"you're serious right?"
he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.
the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile
"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"
next morning
to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him?Â
"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.
"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"
"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts
and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.
you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"
sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"
though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.
you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.
"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.
"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"
"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says
"super hot," you groan.
you glance at the time, 7:00 am.
"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile
"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"
"love you too," you say back before hanging up.
you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.
doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.
one last check to make sure you have all the things.
7:58 am
you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.
a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.
it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.
"balcony boy," you say.
the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile.Â
"miss singer,"
you airly chuckle at the nickname.
observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.
a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.
"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask
"i'm lee heeseung"
#enhypen#enhypenwriters#enhypennetwork#andthenwemet#enhypen x reader#enhypenxreader#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#lee heeseung#jay park#jake sim#park sunghoon#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#nishimura riki#ni-ki#niki#heeseung#jay#jake#sunghoon#sunoo#jungwon#enhypen masterlist#enhypen headcannon#enhypen mtl#enhypen timestamp#enhypen fic#enhypen drabbles
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headcanon the joestars on how they would react to an artist s/o like always painting, drawing and giving them like a painting of them they worked on?? thank u đ
|| I donât do part 5 or further requests yet, and Iâm taking Joestars as in the Jojoâs, but I think I know Giorno somewhat enough to throw him in ! Also, cuuute request.
Part 1-5 Jojoâs | Artist S/O HeadcanonsÂ
Jonathan Joestar
- As one would expect, he is incredibly supportive of your talent! All of your family/couple portraits are hung up in the hallways and even a few landscape ones too to keep things looking lively. His favourite above all favourites would go above the fire place however, which is probably a painting of the two of you that you had gifted him on your anniversary.
- He cherishes it more than most possessions he owns, and when heâs warming up by the crackling flames, he canât help but smile at it. Thatâs your hard work and your effort up there, and any house guests will know it as soon as he shows it to them.Â
- Honestly, he doesnât want to request anything from you as he feels as though anything that you gift him that comes from your mind and heart alone is far more valuable to him. Besides, he wouldnât really know what to ask for aside from another portrait of you to hang somewhere that wasnât taken up.
- During the spring and summer seasons, you take the time to set up an easel, canvas and paint set in the garden to have some fresh air and gather new inspiration. Even if you havenât even gotten far into the piece, Jonathan will eventually come out the house with two cups of tea and stand behind you, bending down to lightly kiss your temple as heâs afraid anything more passionate would interrupt your creative process or cause your finger to slip. He would then ask for you to take a break and sit with him at a table to enjoy the view together, so the two of you can talk about your future painting plans and how his studies in archeology are going. Mutual respect for each otherâs interests is an essential ingredient in any relationship.
- âOh, look at your hands! No matter, weâll just have to wash them once weâre inside,â is something he says before you realise that a tea cup you were holding had been smudged with a variety of greenâs and blueâs from your fingertips. You apologise profusely in which he shakes his head at with a chuckle. âItâs alright, my love. I think it makes them look far more unique now! No china set in the world could look like this.â
- Skip 100 years into the future and your paintings may be in a gallery with a small âto Jonathanâ written in the corner.
Joseph Joestar
- Definition of âPaint me like one of your french girls.~â
- Definitely suggests a nude painting of him. Or you. Or the two of you together, whether it be a joke or heâs somewhat serious.
- Heâs amazed by your talent! Including your patience. He probably wouldnât be able to sit still for long enough to even paint an abstract tree, so he has nothing but respect for your artistry.Â
-If you were to ever gift him a drawing, heâd be stunned. Does he even deserve to own one of your pieces? Was this a declaration of love? Because heâs accepting it with a hard kiss to your lips and a string of âthank youââs and compliments.
- One day, you had a serious artist block and had no idea what to paint leaving you stumped and staring at a blank canvas in despair. The lack of spark in your eyes that you usually had when painting hurt Joseph, so as a foolish attempt to help, he grabbed a bottle of one of your haunts and squirted it all over his hand.
- You gasped in response, about to scold him on the price of the paints when he suddenly slapped it smack middle of the canvas. âJoseph! Those cost a lot!â
-Â âYeah but itâs fun! Câmon try it! Get your creative juices flowing or whatever you art folk say!â Taking your hand, he squirted a different colour onto it which made you giggle cutely as the cold sensation. He then guided it next to his bright hand print, pressing your palm down.
- It looked adorable and gave you an idea.
- With a smile, and a promise from Joseph that heâd buy you more paint later, the two of began to spread more paints onto your hands and continued to cover the canvas mindlessly with your prints.
- By the end of it, the two of who are laughing and even smearing paint on each otherâs faces, leading to some squeals and hilarious facial features.Â
- Sure, it wasnât want you had initially wanted to go for, but with a carefully painted on âJoseph and [F/N]â written underneath the first two handprints that were made, you knew that the sentimental value of the piece was far greater than anything else you could have made.
Jotaro Kujo
- He has no reason to be against your talent and doesnât have enough words and facial expressions to his name to show how impressed he is with you.
- Though that slightly changes when you hand him your sketch book one day, a bashful look on your face as you fear for the worst reaction from him.
- Inside are a multitude of sketches and even fine lined pieces of him, some with and without Star Platinum if you can see him, all carefully and accurately drawn in your own style. You even remembered to add the pin on his hat and his earrings...
- Jotaro could only blush brightly and cough into his hand to compose himself. âItâs good... I like it.â An understatement really, because if you let him keep even a page, heâll be sure to keep it safe somewhere but no where obvious so his mother or grandfather donât tease him for it.Â
- If you ask him to pose for anything, heâll want to decline and might even do so the first few times, though with some begging he may do some poses in your home, with the assurance that no one will barge in. Only casual ones though, so he doesnât have to strain or embarrass himself.
- Buying presents for you is considerably easy as thereâs always some sort of pen or paint set he can get to add to your wide range of media, all of which you are grateful for and gush over even though you tell him that buying them is unnecessary.
-Â âHave you considered doing an art major?â If you say yes, he supports you completely but warns you of the stresses and the harsh reality of the art world when it came to work.
Josuke Higashikata
- Ooh, is he going to show you off.
-Â âYo Rohan Sensei! Sure you can draw that manga of yourâs but can you draw THIS?â
- He might get killed or have his destiny rewritten by a certain stand user, but he knows itâs worth it when it comes to you. Have you seen your own art? Itâs incredible !
- Most likely, he finds out by seeing you doodle in class and his jaw completely drops that your maths work sheet was instead covered in drawings of amazing bodies and plant life. If you insist that theyâre nothing and âtheyâre just sketches,â he will personally shake you senseless and talk your ear off telling you that they are amazing.Â
- Gifting him any kind of artistic media makes him overjoyed. Josuke shoves it in Okuyasuâs face, much to the delinquentâs dismay, and hugs you to death for the gift. âAw babe, you really didnât have to!â
- If youâre ever stressing over the quality of your work, he reminds you that you are amazing at what you do and that everyone has their own style, so that comparing yourself to others just wasnât fair on you.Â
- He plays a personal game where each day he tries to guess how much pen or paint you have your hand by the end of the day. Usually on weekends, itâs a lot more.
Giorno GiovannaÂ
- Thereâs a good chance that you met because of your work.
- Youâre in a particularly beautiful Italian city, either sitting on a stool or ledge with a canvas or book in front of you, your hand working away at the landscape before you.
- While he was on a relaxing stroll, Giorno stopped behind you and peered over your shoulder, his breath taken away by how accurate your piece was to every exact detail.
-Â âBellissimo...â He whispered, causing you to jolt a little and quickly turn around to look at him, a flushed or embarrassed look on your face. Oh, youâre cute.
- Right after he apologised for startling you and praises you for your work, which only flusters you more that such a handsome boy was complimenting you, you offered for him to sit next to you. Perhaps for you to even draw him?
- He doesnât refuse.
- Once youâre dating, he takes you wherever you want whenever he can so you can draw the scenery, and shows you more gorgeous places to draw and even suggests what sort of people to draw. He also supports you doing something out of your comfort zone, for example if you typically liked to only sketch, heâd suggest for you to paint or use chalk in another style to see if it improves your skill as a whole.
- When heâs a don, he asks for you to paint or draw him so that he can hang it somewhere in an expensive frame to make his work place appear more serious and clear that he was the boss.
- If you do so, he thanks you a hundred times and buys you anything you want and as much as you want. Giorno also makes sure to repay you physically with a night out and kisses with a goodnight cuddle.Â
- He might keep a small sketch of the two of you in his inside jacket pocket or draw so that every time he took it out during work, heâd be reminded of you and how you met, which motivated him to get the job done quick so he could go home to see you.
#jjba headcanon#headcanon#joseph joestar x reader#joseph joestar#jonathan joestar#jonathan joestar x reader#jotaro kujo#jotaro x reader#giorno x reader#giorno giovanna#josuke higashikata#josuke x reader#jojo's bizarre adventure#request
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âHey Arnold!â and âMiraculous!â parallels
Ever have an idea for a post that you take forever to get around to because 2020 isÂ
activelyÂ
trying
to kill you?!
 Welp, thatâs me. I mean, uh, this is that post.
Long post is long and I donât like cuts cuz Iâve lost a few posts in the past using them. Please filter the tag âlong postâ I use it for walls of text like these.
So thereâs this show from my childhood called Hey Arnold!Â
Having been on air before I had cable (I and my unsupervised brothers and sisters spent our childhood watching Jerry Springer and Maury because there was literally nothing else on our cheap little TV. How hilarious is that?) I didnât really have much of an experience with Hey Arnold! aside from brief little glances at it when i visited a friends home or the rare occasion where they showed cartoons at school. By the time I got satellite, the show was no longer on the air save for some late night reruns and the Christmas special which aired in December along with other Nickelodeon Christmas episodes (THE best Christmas episode EVER btw).
Really I couldnât remember much about it until hearing about the Jungle Movie finally getting a release date (a total flop but at least its no cliff hanger) and decided to re-watch the entire series in preparation for said movie.
By which point I had discovered another showâMiraculous.Â
At first glance the two shows have absolutely nothing in common. Miraculous being a French-born mahou shoujo-esque CGI superhero TV series about a couple of middle schoolers who regularly battle a walking peppermint-frappucino-looking psychopath. Hey Arnold! being a more realistic childrenâs sitcom about a young football-headed boy who deals out humanitarian aid in the form of advice and simple good deeds to his neighbors, classmates and friends.Â
In terms of setting, logic, and animation the two series are as different as night and day.
So imagine my pleasant surprise to discover a whole postâs worth of parallels shared between the two shows???
And here they are in no particular order:
1)Arnoldâs Parents/Adrienâs mom
Prior to the start of Miraculous, Emilie Agreste disappeared under mysterious circumstances leaving her family behind. Later on it was revealed that she was in fact sleeping (dead?) in a glass coffin beneath the Agreste mansion--unbeknownst to Adrien, or anyone else in Paris save for Gabriel and Nathalie.
In a similar fashion, Arnoldâs parents, Miles and Stella, also disappeared prior to the start of Hey Arnold! and like Emilie were always referred to as âmissingâ rather than âdead.âÂ
The Jungle Movie later revealed Miles and Stella werenât dead, but like Emilie appears to be doing in her coffin, they were sleeping. Having caught a bout of sleeping sickness (apparently they do not need to be hooked up to IVs or other medical devices while in a comatose state cuz fuck logic) they simply needed their orphaned son to come and cure them with the help of the magical golden heart Helga provided him with.
Perhaps Mari holds the key to waking Emilie? That would be nice to see.Â
Not the miraculous of course--but some other key.
Although personally Iâm hoping for a hardcore, devastating ending like Emilie dying, Gabriel going to prison where he belongs, and Adrien leaving the country for a bit until the second Hawk Moth shows up because I just like devastating cliffhangers and angst and being in utter turmoil over fictional people. But thatâs just me.
2) Their best friends are dating
Smol parallel here: Arnoldâs best friend Gerald and Helgaâs Best friend Phoebe wind up together in The Jungle Movie after being imprisoned together by Lasombra. Similar to how Nino and Alya ended up together after being imprisoned by Ladybug (for their protection, of course).
3) The Bag of Money Episode/ The Ladybug episode
OOh boy both of these episodes make me rage.Â
Some context about the Bag of Money episode: Arnold and his friends Gerald and Sid find a random bag of money containing almost $4000. Sid is ecstatic and wants to split the money evenly between the three boys, but Arnold worries it could just be lost and convinces them to let him, Arnold, take the money to the police station. On the way he accidentally switches the bag with another one that is identical and contains a bunch of useless junk, and when he tries to explain what happened to his friends they donât believe him because their bag of money was accidentally taken by an âold lady with pink hair and a peg leg.â
 Arnoldâs a good boy and heâs telling the truth--but the truth sounds crazy, even to my ears. Sid accuses Arnold of stealing the money and spreads lies to their classmates, whom Arnold has spent the ENTIRE SERIES helping in some form or fashion. Despite everything heâs done for them though, the vast majority of the class come to believe Arnold is a thief. Even Gerald, Arnoldâs closest friend, nearly believes Sid over Arnold but eventually comes to Arnoldâs defense. The other kids (save for Helga who doesnât really make an appearance this episode) gang up on Arnold, but thankfully the old lady with pink hair and a peg leg shows up with an officer and together they explain the bag of money is now at the lost and found where it will remain and if gone unclaimed will be returned to Arnold, Gerald and Sid.Â
Pretty much everything is resolved and things return to normal between the kids.Â
But I hate this episode. I hate this episode so, so much. Arnold has spent the entire series helping these people out in some form or fashion. Literally thats the entire show. And after everything heâs done for them theyâre so. Quick. To. Turn. On. Him.Â
Sound familiar???
4) Hidden Personality          vs.     Surface Personality
 I do not refer to the cruddy âtrue selvesâ thing half the Miraculous fandom believes in. Depending on oneâs individual circumstances, environment and how comfortable they are, said personâs behavior can fluctuate or even do a complete 180. This can be kinda frustrating when dealing on oneâs own--âWho am I anyway? Is that me or is this me???â
Itâs all you, fam.
Arnold and Helga are themselves too, no matter what metaphorical/actual mask they put on. Thereâs the side that everyone sees and then thereâs the side almost no one sees. The hidden personality isnât hidden due to a lack of trust, necessarily, but rather it is the result of retreating to their respective âshellsâ--ones which both Arnold and Helga were kinda punched, kicked, and shoved into.Â
Helgaâs surface personality: Class bully, puts up a tough front, constantly torments Arnold because she canât stand him and his niceness
Helgaâs hidden personality: Poetic, abused and isolated, is in love with Arnold to the point of being obsessed with him and bullies him via surface personality in order to hide that fact
Of course Adrien is no bully--his reasons for not being the âcunning, funny, ultra-charming Chat Noirâ 24/7 DOES have a lot to do with his toxic household, his dad, and the overwhelming expectations which are constantly smothering him as Adrien.Â
Adrien is a bug under a magnifying glass (or so he feels)
Chat Noir is a chance for a freedom.
 Adrienâs surface personality was molded by his dad.
 Helgaâs is the result of her entire family. Her father is brash and loud, her mother is a confirmed alcoholic, her sister is a gifted prodigy, well-rounded and spends most of the series at university or elsewhere. Although her sister, Olga, has been shown to genuinely care for Helga, Olga is kinda the reason their parents neglect Helga. With their first daughter being the genius and prodigy she is, Helgaâs parents poured all of their pride and affection and parental devotion onto her. Meanwhile Helga had to walk to pre-school alone. At four years old. In the rain. Not for the last time.Â
Which leads me to the next parallel.
5) Umbrella in the Rain
squeals in delight over this parallel<3<3<3
If youâve never seen Hey Arnold! do yourselves a favor and watch this short little clip over how Helga and Arnold first met. If you have seen it, watch it anyway because it is the most adorable clip in the entire show.
youtube
Dr. Bliss:Â âSo nobodyâs ever noticed you?â
Helga:Â â...There was someone.â
The soft way Helga confesses that--you can actually hear how grateful she is to have such a tender memory from such a painful time.Â
 In a similar manner, Adrien offered his umbrella to Marinette. Of course Adrien did it because Mari had to walk home in the rain and Arnold did it as a simple gesture of kindness (seeing as they were already at the school)--one of the many kind acts he displays throughout the series.Â
 But just like Adrien needed unconditional love coming from somewhere, so did Helga. They were both denied this one common necessity which everyone else around them had. Itâs not a lot to ask for, and they shouldâve already had it coming from their families--but they didnât.
 And then, one rainy day, there it was--the unconditional love they needed.
6) Clinginess
What happens when you take someone, specifically a love-starved abused child from an unstable home environment--deprived of the one thing most crucial to their mental well-being--and miraculously provide them with that very necessity?Â
Clinginess.Â
I canât really think of the correct word to describe this. âClinginessâ is pretty close to what Iâm trying to describe, if not on point, so letâs go with that.Â
 What I mean is Helga and Adrien both need Arnold and Ladybug respectively. Thatâs not a bad thing--itâs okay to need somebody else. Whatâs bad is hinging your entire being on this one connection. For if either kiddo were to be left behind they wouldnât handle it very well.
 It canât really be helped with either Helga or Adrien. They didnât really have the option to learn certain things and went deprived of unconditional love for such a long time. Theyâre kids--nine and fourteen/fifteen respectively. Theyâre not perfect and theyâre traumatized for life. Being denied love from your family--the very people designed to love you--would do that to a person. Naturally they would cling to the first people to show up and provide them with the love they needed.Â
 The Hey Arnold! wiki says this about Helga and Arnoldâs relationship
Due to her unstable family upbringing where both her mother and father constantly neglect [Helga] and shower all of their attention onto Olga, leaving her deprived of the love and attention she needed growing up. On her way to preschool, Arnold helped her by keeping the rain off her with an umbrella and even complimented her on her hairbow. He even later gave her crackers during their snack time. Arnold's kindness and being the first person to notice her quickly caused Helga to transfer all of her love and attention to Arnold.
Of course Adrienâs tunnel vision isnât quite as bad as Helgaâs.
 He treats his friends better.
 He does love his father--
Even though his father is THE.Â
WORST.
 PARENT.
 EVER!!!
--because heâs Adrien and heâs just too precious a cinnamon roll and thatâs still his dad even if the man does belong behind bars.
7) Unhealthy Obsession
I--
I...
Ugh. I am not going to delve too far into this. Youâre just going to have to take my word for it. Helgaâs creepy stalker behavior is a thousand times worse than Marinetteâs. That pic up there of Helga hiding out in Arnoldâs room watching him is pretty decent evidence to back up my argument, but itâs hardly the only example or even the worst incident.
 Honestly Iâm amazed at what Nicktoons were able to get away with in the late nineties/early 2000s.Â
But yes, Helgaâs obsession with Arnold is rather unhealthy in the most extreme moments leading her to display behavior which is more often than not disturbing and concerning.Â
The Hey Arnold! wiki has this to say about Helgaâs obsession with Arnold
Helga is possessive of her love for Arnold and thinks non-stop about him to the point of obsession. This is evidenced throughout the series by the many shrines and poems she makes of Arnold and of her frequent dramatic soliloquies about her love for Arnold.
Again--Mari isnât as bad as all that. Sheâs a sweet girl with many healthy relationships in her life. She has ambition, creativity, and drive. But yeah she can be rather possessive of Adrien too, and that needs to stop. Like right now. Adrien doesnât need another girl being possessive of him and thinking heâs perfect--he needs someone who acknowledges him as a flawed person and loves him despite that.Â
As for Helga and Arnold--show creator Craig Bartlett confirmed they are âmade for each otherâ and wind up married with three kids, so Iâm guessing Helga grew out of some of these bad habits? Or at least I hope so...
8) Helper/Humanitarian tendencies
As mentioned before, the plot of Hey Arnold! is more or less about Arnold helping people. As stated by Gerald in The Jungle Movie, âHeâs a humanitarian! Like his parents!â Of course not every episode is about Arnold helping people. There are episodes devoted to supporting characters and theyâre just as enjoyable and satisfying.Â
 But as he is the titular character he spends a lot of time in the spotlight.Â
Remember that âbest christmas special EVERâ episode I mentioned before?
 The reason itâs the best special, in my less than humble opinion, is due to a few things.
 The special is not about Santa Claws. In fact, I donât think heâs even mentioned, let alone shown and treated like an actual living character.
The focus on the entire episode is again on Arnold helping someone, but he doesnât succeed. Not really.
The one who succeeded in helping someone was Helga, who accomplished the goal Arnold had set out to do.Â
The episode deals with some rather dark subject matter and is actually quite heartwarming as the âperfect presentâ Arnold was trying to provide someone with wasnât something you can buy in the store
Itâs also one of the episodes where Helgaâs love for Arnold leaves her to do good and as her love for him is a secret, she expects nothing in return. Sheâs just happy to help him.
 Kinda similar to Mari who is, as Adrien puts it in Mayura, âOur every day Ladybug.â Her kindness and devotion to helping others is what drives her as Ladybug and Marinette. Itâs what brought Ivan and Mylene together. Is the reason Nathaniel and Mark now have a comic book together. And at the end of the day, thatâs the reason for her strange behavior around Adrien--she wants to help him. Even if itâs just as a âgood friend.âÂ
9) There are two main characters
Although Hey Arnold! is technically a show about Arnold, one could argue it is just as much Helgaâs story.Â
Similarly, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir is named thusly in order to convey the fact that Adrien is just as much a main character as Marinette is.Â
Although I must say Hey Arnold! did a much better job of giving itâs co-character their dues. GIVE. ME. MORE. CHAT NOIR. FOCUSED. EPISODES. DAMMIT.
But, yes, in terms of screen time, Helga gets about as much as Arnold does. Her story and struggles were given just as much importance as Arnoldâs and many people have even come to believe that the show is really about Helga. Iâd say its about both of them.
10) Constantly bumping into each other
Granted this happens between Arnold and Helga more often than it does to the love square dorks.Â
 But yes the two people meant to be together keep knocking into each other in their respective universes.Â
 I forget who, but I remember reading that someone a while back theorized that this was the universeâs way of trying to push Arnold and Helga together. Kinda like the âNow kiss!â meme
Perhaps itâs the same for Adrien and Marinette?Â
;)
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Tips Iâve Learned from Relearning my Second First Language
This is really important, to me, and maybe to you, too.Â
But first, hereâs some background info on me and bilingualism in general:
I grew up speaking Japanese and English and started speaking them as a baby at the same time (simultaneous bilingual). Some of you may have learned one after the other (sequential bilingual).Â
I grew up speaking Japanese because my grandma mostly raised me, and sheâs Japanese. So through her, I learned Japanese. This is my heritage language. Another example, a common heritage language in California (USA) is Spanish, and I have friends who grew up speaking Vietnamese and Tagalog.Â
By definition (for ease, through Wikipedia), a heritage language is is a minority language (either immigrant or indigenous) learnt by its speakers at home as children, but never fully developed because of insufficient input from the social environment.Â
People who speak a heritage language range in their skillset: some speakers are more fluent than others, and some can only understand. Some may know how to read and write, but many donât. Everyone is different.Â
The past couple months, at 25 years old, I decided I wanted to start trying to learn Japanese again. Before starting to study it more actively, I could understand Japanese pretty easily, minimal ability to speak, read, and write (hiragana was the easiest, followed by katakana and some kanji). When I was younger, I attended Japanese school on Saturdays, which is where I learned to read and write.Â
I had tried many many many times before to learn Japanese again, but I failed every time.Â
Here are some things I wish I would have realized earlier:
 1. You canât rely on passive skills to study if you want to improve your active skillsÂ
Passive skills: Listening comprehension, reading Active skills: Speaking, writingÂ
Active skills focus on the production of language. For the longest time I wasnât improving these skills because I thought that I could improve them by listening to more things in Japanese: TV shows, songs, YouTube videos, listening to my family speak.Â
But why would that work if Iâve been listening to my grandma speak to me in Japanese for 25 years of my life and I didnât gain any active skills from that?Â
In order to gain improve your active skills, you have to practice by using your active skills.Â
I know, if you donât speak a heritage language and are reading this, you might think DUH! I learned Portuguese and the only way to get good at speaking it is to speak it. I donât think I realized this was the case with my Japanese because I already had an âin.â But this still applies. I had to speak and write more in order to be able to, well, speak and write more.Â
2. You have to tryÂ
You grew up speaking another language. Itâs a special gift. But if youâre lacking in certain skills, you still have to work to try and strengthen those skills.Â
A couple years ago, I went back to study at my Japanese school as an adult because I thought it would help. It kind of did, but not really...Â
I TRICKED MYSELF into thinking I understood all the material because I could understand everything the teacher was saying, when in reality I wasnât able to retain the kanji or the syntactic structures I was learning.Â
By tricking myself into THINKING I knew things, I sabotaged my own learning experience.Â
You have to try, and you have to really want to learn it because already knowing parts of the language have the potential to hold you back.Â
3. Use what gave you the language to your advantage
Donât âuseâ them, but you know what I mean.Â
For the longest time (childhood into recent adulthood), I was too embarrassed to use Japanese with my mom and grandma. I would only routinely use a select amount of phrases that I felt comfortable using, even if my grandma was speaking to me in Japanese.Â
My mom would always say âYou have the best resources around you, practice your Japanese while you can.âÂ
And while sometimes what parents say can be annoying, my mom was right.Â
But it took a HUGE change in my life to realize this and take action.Â
When I was 23, my grandma went back to live in Japan. It was an emotional and difficult time for me because I was so used to having her around. While she was living with my family, we learned to communicate in a mix of Japanese-English, and I expressed my gratitude for her by doing housework for her, or buying her things at the grocery store or brought her desserts after going out to eat with friends.Â
But her moving across the world meant that I couldnât do these things anymore. A couple days before her departure, I decided that I would try and write her a letter in Japanese and slip it in her backpack for when she arrived in Japan.Â
Let me tell you, I had THE MOST difficult time writing that letter. I couldnât express how much appreciated her because my Japanese sucked. And I hated that I couldnât tell her that in her own language.Â
So after she moved to Japan, I started to write her letters--*practicing those active skills though!!!Â
By being able to write letters with my grandma, not only was I practicing my Japanese, but I was creating a relationship with my grandma that I had never had before. I knew that I would regret it if I didnât talk to her more before sheâs gone. Which is sad, but itâs reality.Â
And let me tell you. Iâve improved a lot.Â
I can think in Japanese now. It may not be perfect, but I know how to structure my sentences. Words are coming more easily to my brain now. I can communicate with my grandma.Â
4. Itâs never too late
I considered late high school/early college the prime of my language learning career. I got myself to a decent level of Spanish, I learned Portuguese, I took classes in Mandarin and French.Â
But for some reason, I thought my Japanese was always DOOMED because it was just way. too. hard. for. me. to. learn.Â
Japanese is hard. But itâs not impossible.Â
I realized that at 25. Itâs never too late to learn a language, but itâs also never too late to try and relearn a language you were familiar with before.Â
Just take it one step at a time.Â
I always thought Japanese was overwhelming because I KNEW how difficult it was. I thought about everything--kanji, onyomi and kunyomi, all the sentence structures and everything all at once. This freaked me out and made me think I could never learn it.Â
But if you learn it little by little, itâs not as overwhelming.Â
#Â
Thatâs pretty much all the major points of things I wish I realized earlier when it came to studying Japanese.Â
Language is something Iâve been interested in for a long time in terms of academics, so Japanese is naturally, important to me as a language. For other heritage language speakers, it might be more of the food thatâs important, or cultural aspects, or other parts of their heritage that is important.Â
Everyone is different.Â
But this was for you, heritage language speaker, if you needed a little push.Â
#langblr#language learning#japanese#langblog#languages#successful language learning#language tips#language tumblr#learn japanese#heritage language#linguistics#bilingualism#multilingual#multiethnic
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And I totally see 190 with mari and dick. But I've put in a lot of requests and i know each one takes a lot of your time and effort, so feel free to ignore me
This is my first attempt at Dickinette finished at like 2am. I hope I have served you all well.
-------------------
Dick was extremely worried about the petite young lady at the end of the bar.
The dark haired girl had been drinking by herself for about an hour, and the longer she sat there, the sadder she appeared. Her eyes were dim, focused on the drink in front of her. Her skin was flushed, most likely from the alcohol. She was wearing a pink babydoll dress that accented her delicate curves. She had white stockings and black ballet flats. Her hair was loose, cascading past her shoulders.
She looked so sad.
Dick sighed deeply side eyeing Wally and Roy. The two red-heads were laughing and downing their own drinks. It looked like those two were already well on their way to being wasted. Dick was a little irritated as it had been his best friendsâ idea to take him out drinking. It was supposed to help him get over StarfireâŠ
The Tameranean had broke up with Dick a few months ago. The man was mostly over it, but it still stung. Theyâd been dating since they were teenagers. They used to get along almost perfectly, but things had changed as they grew up. Dick was no longer Robin. Dick was Nightwing now, and with the new mantle came new problems.
Starfire herself was dealing with her own developing issues as a member of the Tamaranean royal family. Korâi refused to abandon her responsibilities, and Dick could respect that. She knew Dick wouldnât abandon his responsibilities either, so that spelt the end for their relationship. Korâi told him she would always treasure their time together, and that he would always be one of her best friends.
Sheâd left for Tameran shortly afterword.
Wally and Roy had gotten tired of Dickâs moping, so they had dedicated the last few weeks to pulling him out of his funk. This was the fifth bar this week, and Dick was getting exasperated. He had let himself be sad, and now he was accepting what was and began to move on. He appreciated his friends for wanting to cheer him up, but Dick did need some alone time.
Which brought him back to the little lady at the end of the bar.
She was all alone and appeared to be intoxicated. She was vulnerable and attracting attention. A few men had bought her drinks, though she hadnât touched them, ordering her own instead. Dick was relieved to see she still had that much sense, but the more she drank, the more men that gathered around her. It made Dickâs instincts scream at him to do something, anything, to help her.
Dick decided to go over and invite her to sit with them. If she turned that down, Dick would volunteer to order her an Uber to take her home. He just couldnât leave her sitting at the end of the bar by herself with the wolves waiting to devour her. Dick noted that neither Roy nor Wally noticed him slipping away, so he grabbed his jacket and walked over to her.
âHi,â he said, giving her a small smile. â...are you doing okay?â
The woman turned, and Dick felt his breath catch in his throat. Her eyes were a gorgeous slate grey filled with unshed tears. She had a cute button nose with a splattering of light freckles across the bridge. She was frowning, petal pink lips drawn thin as if she were trying not to burst out crying. He saw the tears begin to build up as she looked at him once before biting, âDo people go to a bar if theyâre okay?â
Dick winced, but tried not to take it personally. She was clearly upset about something, and he was certain all the extra male attention wasnât making her mood any better. She probably just wanted to be left alone to drown her sorrows in peace. Unfortunately for her, that wasnât how Gotham worked. A pretty lady like her drinking alone could only spell disaster.
âWell, my two buddies are here, and their lives are most certainly fine,â he said, pointing a finger to the two intoxicated red-heads. âThey dragged me here because they think Iâm miserable.â
âWhy would they think that?â she said, her accent coming out.
Huh, so she was French? That would explain why she didnât seem to realize how dangerous Gotham was.
âMy girlfriend and I broke up. Weâd been dating since we were around fourteen,â Dick answered honestly. âKorâi had family problems, and I had my own responsibilities. In the end, it just didnât work out. I was sad for a little bit, but she was right. We couldnât compromise...I just miss her. Sheâd been a constant presence in my life for the better part of seven years, after all.â
That seemed to reach the woman, who had now put her glass of wine down. She was no longer looking at him with hostility, but something else. It wasnât a look of pity. Dick knew the difference between looks of pity and genuine empathy. The dark haired woman rubbed her arms before gesturing to the open seat next to her. She then smiled bitterly at him before sighing, âLove sucks, doesnât it? My boyfriend never loved me for me. He cheated on me.â
Dick looked apologetic as he sat down next to her. He held out his hand and said, âRichard, itâs nice to meet you. My friends call me Dick.â
Her delicate hand reached out to grab his. Dick marveled at how small her fingers were in comparison to his. They were soft, but definitely did not lack strength. Her handshake was surprisingly firm for such a small woman.âMarinette,â she said. âI donât have any friends.â
âI doubt that,â Dick replied. âEveryone has friends.â
âNot me.â
Dick lifted his hand to get the bartenderâs attention. He ordered a glass of semi-dry red wine and took a sip.
âLike I said already, my buddies brought me here. The red-head who looks like he could toss a man is Roy. His adopted father and my adopted father are business rivals, so we hung out a lot growing up. The other red-head whoâs giggling like a nut is Wally. Heâs a real jokester, but heâs one of the most reliable friends I have,â he said. âIâm currently working at Wayne Enterprises, but Iâm trying to get a different job.â
âDonât like it there?â Marinette asked softly.
â...I had a fight with my adopted father,â he admitted with a shrug. âItâs his companyâŠâ
âSo you donât want to work there any more,â she said with a firm nod. âThatâs understandable. I left Paris to get away.â
âAway from what?â
Marinette seemed to glance anxiously at him before tossing her wine glass back and chugging the contents. Once she was done, she began to tell him about her life in Paris. She started with explaining that her parents, while loving and supportive individuals, had given her freedom to the point of neglect as a child. She told him that she still loved her parents and knew they loved her, but that was the reason sheâd had such a hard time asking them for help with things.
Marinette moved on to discuss how sheâd had a few friends growing up as a child. She told him that she realized that sheâd had fewer friends than she thought when a girl named Lila Rossi came to her lycee. The young woman went on to discuss how things had gotten terrible. Most of her friends had turned their back on her the second this Lila girl began spreading her lies. There had been only a handful of people who knew the girl was lying.
That had caused so much on strain on many of her relationships in which was only made worse by how much work Marinette was doing. Marinette had been her classâs president which was a lot of work. Her one friend had quit as her deputy after being pulled in by this Lila girlâs lies. This had left Marinette alone to do all of the work for her class.
âNot to mention all my commissions, things were goddamn nightmare,â Marinette said, quietly thanking the bartender for her new glass of wine. âCommissions? Are you an artist?â Dick asked.
Marinette seemed to light up at that.
âIâm actually a budding fashion designer!â she said brightly. âIâve been doing it since I was young. I actually made the dress Iâm wearing right now.â
Dickâs eyes scanned her dress more closely this time.
âThatâs really impressive,â Dick said. âThat looks like hand stitching! The embroidery on the neckline is gorgeous. Did you really sew this all by hand?â
Marinette nodded excitedly, telling Dick it had taken her only a few days to make. She went on to discuss how sheâd been trying to establish her brand in the United States for a few months, but progress had been slow.
âI love designing and creating things,â Marinette said sweetly.
âReally? Iâd love to see some more of your designs! Do you just design womenâs dresses or do you make more?â he asked.
Marinette suddenly went very quiet. Her grip on her drink tightened before her eyes welled up with tears once again. The tears began to drip down her cheeks as her body began to tremble. She sniffed a few times before chugging the rest of her wine. It took everything in her not to slam the glass down on the counter as all the emotions sheâd tried to suppress came rushing to the surface.
â...what did I do wrong?â
Dick felt himself start to panic as he saw the womanâs reaction. He hadnât meant to make her cry! He was supposed to be making her feel better! He rushed to try and think of a way to change the subject when she asked her question. He watched in horror as she began to dissolve into tears, reaching out gently to touch her arm.
â...what did I do wrong? I did everything heâd asked of me. I was honest. I never cheated. I neverââ she cried. âWhy couldnât he love me for me?â
The dark haired man gently scooched his chair closer to Marinette. He then wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in a show of support. He listened to her cry, feeling his own anger stirring. He was enraged to think that her model would date her just because he figured out she was someone he looked up to! If he didnât love Marinette as herself, why would he want to date her after learning she was a famous designer?
âHonestly, sounds like you didnât do anything wrong,â Dick said quietly. âTo me it simply sounds like this guy was a complete idiot who wouldnât know a good, talented woman if one bit him in the ass.â
Marinetteâs grey eyes darted to him, searching for any dishonesty. When she found none, she smiled weakly and thanked him for trying to make her feel better. Wiping her eyes, she told Dick that she was going to go home and sleep the alcohol off. As she moved to get up, Marinette wobbled unsteadily and had to grasp Dick for support.
âI think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought,â she whispered, her cheeks turning bright red.
Dick simply smiled at her before draping his coat over Marinette. He stood up and gently guided her away from the bar and out into the cool Gotham air. He noted how she shivered, pulling closer to him before mumbling, âDonât like the cold.â
âCâmon Nettie, Iâll get you a ride homeââ
âDonât wanna go back.â
âNettieââ
âHeâs there.â
This made the man stop. The guy she was avoiding was at her place of residence? Did they live together? What was she going to do now? Marinette was clearly drunk and vulnerable. What would happen if she went back home and this douchebag was still there? It made Dickâs skin crawl, so he decided to choose the lesser of two evils.
He fished out his phone and dialed a number he was secretly hoping heâd never have to call again. Â Dick nearly breathed out a sigh of relief when a welcomingly familiar voice answered the phone.
â...hey Alfred...itâs Dick. Is Bruce out?â
âWhy yes, Master Dick. He took Jason out this evening.â
â...could you come pick us up? I ran into an old friend, and she got pretty drunk. Iâm afraid to send her home by herself.â
âOf course, Master Dick. Shall I set up a room for you as well?â
Dick could hear the hopefulness in Alfredâs voice as he added that Jason would probably like to see him as well. Dick gritted his teeth but wasnât able to answer before Marinetteâs sweet voice asked him who Jason was. One heâd told her who Jason was, Marinette got a very firm look on her face.
âYou should stay. This Bruce might be a big idiot, but the little boy has nothing to do with it. Are you really going to be mean to the little boy who looks up to you because youâre mad at someone else? Because that doesnât seem right at all. What did little Jason ever do to you?â
He would have laughed if he hadnât been so shocked. Marinette had been an inconsolable sobbing mess only moments before. Now she was spitting out wisdom like she was freaking Buddah. He had to admit she had a point though. His problem was solely with Bruce, and Jason didnât have anything to do with it. Jason hadnât done anything to warrant the kind of treatment Dick had been giving him.
â...Iâll stay, Alfred. Only for Jason. I refuse to talk to Bruce.â
âIâm glad to hear that, Master Dick. Jason could use the help of someone experienced in dealing with Master Bruce,â the relief was clear in his voice. âIâll come get you, and then set up your rooms.â
âYouâre experienced there too, you know?â
âYes, Master Dick⊠but Iâm not a young man, and Iâm not Master Bruceâs son like you are. I firmly believe heâll relate to you better.â
Dick mentally agreed, but thanked Alfred and hung up the phone. He turned his attention back to Marinette, whose grey eyes were watching him closely. She looked almost lost as if she didnât know what to do now. He could see the anxiety coming back to her expression and quickly asked her what was wrong.
âShould I really come over if youâre having issues with him? I donât want to make things worseââ
âNettie, youâre fine. Just stick close, and Iâll keep you warm and safe until Alfred gets here. Then you can go to sleep in a safe place,â Dick said firmly. âIâll work things out with Jason. Bruce is just being stubborn and refusing to admit heâs wrong. Itâs enough to drive anyone crazy.â
Marinetteâs drunken mind seemed to crash.
She could vaguely remember him using the nickname before, but it hadnât hit her until just then. Dick was calling her Nettie. Dick had given her a nickname. Dick was offering her a safe place to stay. Dick was standing here, making sure she was safe and warm while his friends were still drinking inside. Dick had left his friends to see if she was okayâŠ
Her face, already slightly flushed from the alcohol, got redder as she locked eyes with the enchanting man next to her. Sheâd made a mental note of him before, dark hair and blue eyes, but now she was looking at him closely. He had beautiful cheekbones and eyes that carried a mischievousness to them. A smile always seemed to be tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he was stronger than Marinette originally thought
He was muscular, but not in the way one who lifts a lot of weights would be. He had muscles more like⊠a dancer.
Marinette got so tangled up in her thoughts she didnât notice the limo pull up beside them. It wasnât until Dick began gently guiding her to the door that Marinette even realized the car was there. Time blurred for her after that as she let Dick take care of her. The last thing sheâd be able to recall the next day was an elderly man showing her a room, and plopping herself onto the bed.
Dick had come to wake her up the next morning with some ibuprofen and water.
Heâd smiled at her the same way he had when he greeted her at the bar. It still made her feel weak and brought a small smile of her own to her face. Dick had then talked to her about the previous nightâs events, and what had happened. He told her not to worry about crashing at the manor as he himself hadnât felt comfortable sending her back home. He then offered his assistance in either kicking her boyfriend out of her home or helping her relocate.
âWhy would you do that?â she asked quietly. âWhy do you even care?â
âBecause Iâm your friend, Nettie.â
âWhy?â
â...because right now, we could both use a good friend,â Dick said softly. âOne that listens to me instead of dragging me out to bars. One that tells me to shut up and man up when Iâm wrong. You may not remember it, but you set me straight last night. Iâm going to talk to Jason. Fighting with Bruce or not, he still adopted Jason which makes him my little brother. I shouldnât take my anger out on him.â
Marinetteâs eyes widened as she set the glass of water down beside her.
âI did that?â she murmured.
âYeah, you did. You could also use someone who isnât going to use you for money or fame. You seemed really nice, and it sounds like a lot of people took that for granted or abused it. Thatâs not fair to you,â he added. âSo what do you say? Are we at least friends?â
As Dick held his hand out to Marinette, her face began to heat up. She managed to keep herself together long enough to shake his hand, a shy smile appearing on her face. She felt her heart thud in her chest as the man with sky-blue eyes smiled the most perfect smile at her.
Sure...they could be friends for now.
#dickinette#maribat#kan writes some things#kan answers an ask#mlb/dc crossover#don't like don't read#our girl is aged up to be the same age as him#so everyone cool your damn jets
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I'm new to this and have no idea how this is going to appear to you but here's a prompt anyway: Daminette Betrothed AU a reunion in front of the batfam, the fam, the class and the fam or part of the class and fam either works but could you make Marinette more Talia (atleast on the inside under clumsy cover) and make her slap him first thing she does shocking the people there? Thank you for your time, you're awesome, continue onwards!!
Taking a road trip from Pussyville to Ballstown for this :)
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âWhy are we going to Paris anyway,â scoffed nineteen year old Damian Wayne. He took a sip from his champagne glass and stared out the jetâs window, being careful not to spill anything on his suit.
âI donât see why you feel the need to complain, Paris is a beautiful city,â Bruce Wayne stated, not looking up from his newspaper.
âIâm not complaining father, I just donât understand why I needed to join you,â the young heir replied, clearly annoyed by the lack of a response to his first question. Bruce let out a hum in reply, but didnât make an effort to continue the conversation, flipping to another page in the paper.
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âWow Lila! I canât believe you managed to get us a tour at at Wayne Enterprises!â Rose squealed, she stood next to the Italian girl, eyes wide with joy.
Marinette had the urge to slap her sometimes. No one is that happy and excited all the damn time. It shouldnât be natural. She heard someone walk towards her, but she knew who it was, sheâd recognize her best friendâs walking pattern anywhere.
âHow much longer do you think this little game will go on?â Chloe asked, her eyes glued to the deceiving little twit. Marinetteâs eyes roamed around the building, watching the grimaces on the employeesâ faces. She smirked slyly.
âNot long.â
Chloe noticed her friendâs smile but didnât comment. She learned not to question Mari when she had that scheming look on her face. She was planning something. What? She wasnât sure. She smiled in return and looked at the building.
Wayne Enterprises in Paris was beautiful. It held the gothic structure as the one in Gotham. People were bustling in and out of the building, trying to get their work done. Bustier was arguing with a receptionist about their tour. They has arrived thirty minutes earlier than planned. Lilaâs doing of course, but Marinette arrived on time so she wouldnât miss the bus.
âIâm assuming youâre the class touring the building today?â A familiar voice spoke from behind her. Her posture stiffened but she refused to turn around. She could see the gears turning in Lilaâs brain at the sight of the man behind her. He tapped her shoulder, âMiss?â She hated it when people touched her shoulder.
She gripped his wrist, keeping it in a tight hold, before turning around. She was face to face with those green eyes that she had grown to miss all those years ago. She didnât like him at the time, he had a big ego, he was bratty, he thought he was better than everyone and they were betrothed.
She eyed him up and down. He had grown up. And beautifully so. His jaw was chiseled and he wore a perfectly fitted suit. His hair hadnt changed, maybe grown a little and better kept, but it stayed the same.
And then she felt rage bubbling in her chest. Where was he? After all this time? Did he not think she would search for him? Did he not care when she was told by Talia he was killed during the raid?
Damian could only watch the French-Asian woman in front of him. Was it really her? God, she looked so different. She aged gracefully, her hair seemed fuller and he noticed puberty had done her well. He was so mesmerized by her, he didnât process her hand flying towards his face.
A loud slap echoed through the lobby. All conversation stopped, Mme Bustier gasped.
âMarinette!â Lila cried out dramatically, âWhy would you do that to a stranger?! You could get sued.â
He saw her glare harden, âOh, heâs no stranger.â She continuously clenched and unclenched her fists, a habit she never seemed to escape whenever she tried to contain her rage.
He brought a hand up to his cheek, cupping it gently so it wouldnât sting, âI always forget just how strong your hits are, Angel.â
Her brows twitched and she crossed her arms, silently challenging him, âThatâs not the only thing you forgot.â
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Permanent tag list: @thyladyanput @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @thesunanditsangel
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Never alone - Chapter Seven - Soulmate AU
AO3
Previous - Here - Next
Master List
Hi guys! Here is chapter 7. I hope this time it will show up in the tag search because chapter 6 didnât and a lot of you probably missed it. Iâve noticed that several chapters from authors I follow didnât show up in the tags either so it wasnât just me... I donât know whatâs wrong with tumblr but I hope they fix it because weâre probably missing some updates...
Anyway, here is chapter 7 for you guys :)
When Damian came back to the manor, he changed and took a shower as quickly as possible in the hope to catch Tim when he would come back from patrol. He also fed Titus and Alfred the cat on his way to the Batcave, giving both of them a light scratch.
âYouâre back earlier than usual.â mused a voice that he recognized as Timâs.
Damian looked up at his brother, standing up from where he was crouching petting his pets.
He didnât expect his brotherâs shocked look.
âOh. Your eye. Is that your soulbond?â
The youngest Wayne raised an eyebrow.
âYes, you didnât know?â
Tim shook his head.
âNo, you didnât tell us and I assume youâve been wearing contacts ever since the change.â
Damian nodded, silent.
âIt suits you.â
The green-eyed teen just looked at his brother, silent.
Timothy rolled his eyes.
âCanât you just take a compliment? I can be nice to my brother too, you know.â
Damian chose to ignore that.
âAnd why didnât you tell me that Marinette would be shadowing you during her internship? She thinks itâs very strange that the co-CEO would go out of his way for a high school student to shadow him.â
Tim smirked, picking up Alfred the cat.
âDoes it bother you?â
âI donât want you to embarrass  myself.â
Tim laughed.
âNo chance for now. She only knows you as Robin for now. She wonât associate me with you.â
Damian frowned.
âI wonât just be Robin forever.â
âI know. Stop worrying like a teen in his rebellious phase ashamed of his parents. Iâm just going to show her the roots of business management.â
âItâs still weird for the co-CEO to do that. That kind of job goes to regular employees. Did you volunteer because sheâs Ladybug?â he asked as he crossed his arms.
âI did. Ever since Bruce knew that Ladybug would be on the trip, he wanted to keep an eye on her. To be sure that she wasnât overwhelmed by all her responsibilities, because according to her files, she had a lot of them. Ladybug and Chat Noir are just teens. Granted, we were too when we started being vigilantes too, but Bruce was with us, we werenât left unsupervised. Heâs worried that itâs too much for them.â
He smirked at his little brother.
âAnd the fact that sheâs your soulmate is a bonus too.â
Damian ignored the jab, intent on having all his questions answered.
âWhat about the Agreste boy, then? Is he shadowing you too?â
âNo, heâs with the PR team along with Miss. CĂ©saire.â
âI would have thought that he would be shadowing someone in business management, what with his fatherâs companyâŠâ
âI would have thought that too, but the boy is also the image of the brand and constantly in the press. His father probably wants him to learn how to deal with the press and how to dispel rumors.â
It made sense, the model would probably learn business management later on, directly from his father.
Tim chuckled.
âIs that all? Or did you want to corner me for something else too?â he asked as he put the half-asleep cat down.
âTch. Just donât ruin things for me with Marinette.â
The older boy laughed, tapping the younger boyâs back.
âIâll only have nice words for you. Well, as nice as it can be, you are quite a difficult one.â
He barely avoided Damianâs punch.
Marinette was nervous. So nervous that she had to take deep breaths to not panic.
Today was their first day of internship. For a whole week, they would work at Wayne Enterprises alongside an employee in their chose field.
Alya and Adrien would work with the Public Relationship branch. The reporter has been so excited about it. As a reporter, she would have to deal with PR teams in the future, and the knowledge would be good for her.
As for Adrien, well⊠It was no secret that it was his fatherâs wish that he shadowed them. The young Agreste has confided to his three friends that he had no idea what he wanted to do in the future. What he was sure, however, was that he didnât want to continue being a model and he didnât want to have anything to do with his fatherâs company.
With his lack of aspiration for the future, he was, just this once, happy to let his father choose which branch to intern in for him.
Nino, along with, surprisingly, Lila, would be shadowing the legal team of the company. While he still couldnât choose between being a DJ or a movie maker, he wanted to be able to handle any legal issues if someone tried to claim his work as their own for example.
Copyrights were no joke after all.
As for why Lila wanted to do her internship in this branch, well⊠She didnât know and she honestly wouldnât go out of her way to know. The farthest away she was from Lila, the better.
Marinette was happy to have this opportunity to learn about business management. She wanted to start her own line of clothes later in life, but if she wanted to keep working for Jagged and doing graphic design for him, there were some things she had to do. Like, making all the paperwork to create her own business and thus, be an Ă©tudiante auto-entrepreneur. A student independent worker.
She hoped that her internship would help her do that, even if it was different in the USA than in France.
She was happy for this opportunity, but what made her nervous was that her internship was with the co-CEO, Timothy Drake-Wayne.
She didnât understand how something like this could happen. An average French student like her didnât what it took to work with a co-CEO. Especially not the CEO of an important company like Bruce Wayneâs.
She didnât know, nor when, but Marinette was sure that she would ridicule herself one way or another.
Then, they would fire her, and she would be banned from the USA forever.
The whole class would mock her and she would become a pariah in Paris too and she would lose all her friends and her family!
âAaaaaaaah!â
The scream that came out of her mouth was unintentional but it did its job in surprising everyone on the bus.
âWow, girl. What was that for?â
Alya looked at her with an amused smile, used to the designerâs antics by now. She knew that the French-Chinese girl would panic eventually, the weight of âI will be shadowing the fucking CEOâ too much for her.
Honestly, the reporter was surprised that she didnât panic earlier. Sometimes, she wondered how Marinette was able to stay on her feet with all her responsibilities, and yet, would panic for the smallest of things.
That girl was a walking paradox.
âThis is going to be a disaster, Alya! One way or another Iâm going to ruin this internship, and then-â
âOkay, let me stop you right now. Youâve worked for Jagged Stone, and he still goes to you for graphic design. Have a little more confidence! Youâre not going to ruin anything. Plus, youâre not here to work but to learn. You canât fail anything in learning.â
The Ladyblogger put a hand on her friendâs shoulder.
âEverything is going to be alright. But if you donât move right now, weâre going to be late.â
Marinette didnât even notice that they were already there and that the others were currently getting off the bus.
She took a deep breath, trying her best in believing in her best friendâs words.
Everything would be alright.
Upon entering the Wayne Tower, they were welcomed by Bruce Wayne and his secretaries. They took an hour or so in touring the building, Mr. Wayne giving pieces of information about the history behind his business.
After that, they led them into a conference room where several employees were already sitting.
As they all took a seat, Mr. Wayne made his way on the small stage, giving everyone in the room a professional smile.
âI would like to thank the CollĂšge Françoise Dupont for applying to our career program. Itâs a pleasure for us, Wayne Enterprises, to help young minds like yours to find their goals and aspirations for the future. I hope you will enjoy your time with us.â
He paused as the class applauded.
âThank you. Now, I would like us all to applaud Miss Dupain-Cheng and Miss CĂ©saire for their incredible essay that won their class this trip.â
Once again everyone applauded. The two girls were slightly embarrassed at all this attention.
âNow, letâs not wait any further. All the employees that you will be shadowing are already here. When I call your name, please come up to the stage to be introduced to your mentor. Then, you will be free to go and start the day. Adrien Agreste!â
All too soon it was Marinetteâs turn to be called. She was introduced to Timothy Drake-Wayne who didnât seem that much older than them. He was obviously in his early twenties and probably should be a university student if he were anyone else.
As they left the room, Tim smiled at the short girl.
âItâs very nice to meet you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I hope you will enjoy this week with us.â
The Eurasian girl felt a little uneasy. Tim smiled at her like he already knew her and it unnerved her a little.
âItâs very nice to meet you too, sir! Please, call me Marinette.â
The man smiled at her.
âAlright, as long as you donât call me sir anymore, please. Iâm only twenty-one.â
âAlright then⊠May I ask you a question?â
âOf course, ask away.â
âI was really surprised when I was told that I would be shadowing you. I was wondering why.â
Tim smiled softly, trying to appease the nervous girl.
âWhen you asked to shadow someone in the business management branch, you said that one day you wanted to have your own line of clothes and that in the meantime, you already had clients for graphic design and had to open a business as an independent worker for your work to be legal. While your office is your home, itâs still considered a business. Since you will be managing a business at such a young age, we thought it would be better to have someone as young as me to show you the ropes, you know?â
Marinette nodded. It made sense. She didnât want someone to tell her that she was too young to own a business. Even if being an independent worker didnât really feel like owning a business, there was still a lot of paperwork to do and she had to deal with all the taxes.
The small girl gave him a bright smile.
âAlright, then! Iâm ready!â
Marinette, Tim observed, was a very bright child with a thirst to learn. She took notes of everything he said and asked questions every time she could think of one.
He told her how his grandparents built this business and what changes his adoptive father made.
Then they talked about her plans for the future in details and the co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises was surprised how thorough she was.
He couldnât help but think that she would be a good match for his little brother.
He spent the whole morning talking business with her and teasing his little brother in texts. He knew that Damian and Bruce planned to have lunch together today. He thought how funny it would be if the demon spawn were to cross path with his soulmate without his Robin costume. The boy would do his best to avoid her.
Speaking of lunchâŠ
âOh, shit. Is it the time? Iâm sorry Marinette, I didnât notice.â
âOh, itâs okay! I didnât see the time pass either.â
Tim smiled.
âDo you want to keep talking and eat lunch here? I was thinking about ordering Chinese food, what do you think?â
The French girl beamed.
âI would love to!â
âDo you want something in particular?â
âAnything is fine, thank you!â
Dialing a number on his phone, he quickly ordered for the both of them.
He saw Marinette taking her wallet out.
âNow, put that away, itâs on me.â he smiled.
That would be the first time he paid lunch for his future sister in law and he was very happy to do so.
âBut-â
âI insist.â
âThank you very much!â
She was such a polite girl, he mused.
The food arrived quickly and they started a business plan together for a fictive company as a way to learn.
He noticed that the door opened and saw his father and little brother with lunch bags in hand.
He smirked as Damian froze and left as quickly as he came, his father mouthing an apology and following his son.
He forgot that he was supposed to have lunch with his father too.
He couldnât help his laugh at his brotherâs reaction though. His face screamed Nope.
âIs something the matter?â asked Marinette.
He stopped laughing, getting back to business.
âNo, sorry. You were saying?â
Tag list:
@bigpicklebananatree @animegirlweeb @crazylittlemunchkin @northernbluetongue @cutechip @justafanwarrior @iloontjeboontje @resignedcatservant @maribat-is-lifeblood @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @mikantsume @dast218 @amayakansâ @zestyzealotâ @lunarwolfspnâ
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BNHA as Hetalia Characters (Axis + Allies only)
Hahahahaaaa.. Iâm still Hetalia trash đ
â
Mirio Togata as America
I first put Denki as America but then I saw a post and now I canât stop thinking about BTT SeroKiriKami so yeah-
Mirio and America have more things in common other than being blond, blue-eyed precious beans that need to be protected
First of- s t r o n g. Theyâre both canonically some of the strongest characters in their respective series despite their relatively young ages (Mirio being above some pro-hero levels despite still being in high school and America being well America lmao)
Additionally, they both have drive; they have a determination to become as strong as they possibly could, and stop at nothing to get there
Also, they love helping people! Mirio wants to save a million smiles, and America is a self-proclaimed hero (who admittedly isnât the best but heâs trying okay)
Both of them kinda also have a hidden intelligence? Like, as in one would never think of them to be highly intelligent people because theyâre so goofy and energetic
Since itâs implied that both Tamaki and Mirio game in their free time, him and America are also avid gamers (imagine them playing smash together lmao I feel like theyâd break all the controllers)
Both v v competitive too (not as much as the next duo tho)- theyâll never back down from a challenge and face it head on with all their might!
Also, theyâre basically the blond boy of the month but itâs every month lmao
(In my eyes theyâre both cute little golden retrievers shshsjdjskal)
In conclusion, theyâre sunshines who deserve the world and more
Katsuki Bakugo as England
Okay fr hear me the fuck out-
I know itâs an unlikely pair
But they have their similarities just bear with me here
Yes, I was initially going to put in Romano for Bakugo (anger issues gang)
But then the more I thought about it, the more I realized that unlike Romano, he wouldnât back away from a challenge or run at the slightest scare- Bakugo would take that shit and smother it into the ground
And while England may sometimes be portrayed as a prude gentleman type, we canât forget his history- this man is probably one of, if not the most, ballsy countries to exist (at least back in his prime)
England is smart, calculated and cunning- how could you not be when youâve conquered nearly the whole damn world?
Heâs proud and maybe a bit too egotistical, and while lacking the anger issues and probably dead vocal cords of Bakugo, he sure as hell matches him in the pride and power aspect
Bakugo, on the other hand, is literally top of his class; boy is a nerd and has a perfect record
So heâs by no means any less smart than England, maybe a little more reckless, but heâs 16- you canât exactly compare his mindset to a countryâs
Even so he does act quickly on the battlefield, much like England assessed situations very precariously (most of the time)
Both of them would probably look an opponent dead in the eye and tell them to do it, bet you wonât pussy ass
On a lighter note tho, theyâre two blond, spiky-haired tsunderes who are way to proud and smart for their own good
They also both listen to rock/punk so thereâs that too
foreverfurrowedbrowclubTM
Aoyama Yuuga as France
I know I just said SeroKamiKiri is the BTT but once again hear me out
I couldnât not put Aoyama in as France
Itâs literally a match made in Heaven guys cmon
Theyâre both sparkling, flamboyant and fabulous blondies
Although sometimes their attitude can be interpreted as holier-than-thou, really they just know that theyâre amazing and donât care what people think (we stan confident kings đ€)
They also know that they deserve the best luxuries in life, and definitely wonât settle for anything else
In terms of courage, theyâre pretty much on the same level; they get scared easily and will more than likely either back out of the challenge or give up the moment they feel tired
The difference is, France will never regain whatever bravery he had before the French Revolution, but Aoyama is slowly building his courage up in his journey to become a hero
They also take things in stride, willingly or unwillingly (whether it be an ugly outfit or a defeat, they wonât be a sore loser lmao)
While not necessarily flirty like France, Aoyama can still charm people with his whims. Also, their relationship towards people that they canât charm kind of mirrors one another? (Might be reaching here lmao)
I do think though sometimes that Aoyama shows some similarities with Poland/2P!Romano, but he has the most similarities with France so đ€·đ»ââïž
Toga Himiko as Russia
You may say sheâs more like Belarus but nay nay I say
Belarus is the more kind of âstoicâ cruel in my mind; she doesnât show much emotion besides annoyance and getting angry
Russia however
Heâs âchildishlyâ cruel- looks innocent but is capable of some horrible, monstrous things.
Even though his face says otherwise, he does take some glee in torturing harming others (like, a lot)
Toga also does this, but in a much more obvious way lmao. Sheâs a villain, who drinks blood, thereâs no doubt she hasnât killed anyone. She also takes a lot more pleasure from hurting people than Russia does
They not that close with people, but the ones they are close to they are immensely protective of (Toga and the LOV, Russia and his sisters)
They also are capable of being highly intelligent, knowing more than what people think they know (Toga helping Twice our, and I high key headcanon Russia as a manipulative and cunning bastard whoâs done many horrible things to people to get his way)
(I still love you Ivan)
I think this goes without saying but theyâre really really violent
Russia just likes using his magic metal pipe of pain, and Toga likes her knives
They also have some really shitty pasts that have lead them to be who they are today
They may look cute on the outside, but they are oh so very cruel on the inside
Shota Aizawa as China
Haha, old man syndrome-
These two have more in common than youâd think
First off, they have that wisdom that comes with age, and are trying to get the younger ones to learn it (Aizawa does this better lmao)
I can totally see them complaining about âkids these daysâ even tho theyâve done the same shit back then-
Along with wisdom comes cunning and craft. I headcanon China as a low key genius, so heâs probably on par with Aizawa, if not better (in terms of battle strategy and such)
Even though they come off as strict, all they really want is the best for their students/siblings
Theyâre both physically strong (China was probably once hella jacked, and Aizawa speaks for himself)
They do tire out quite easily tho so thereâs that
Both have a penchant for cute animals like cats (Hello Kittyâs a cat donât @ me)
On a darker note, theyâve both suffered losses of close friends. While China has definitely lost a lot more, Shirakumoâs âdeathâ still took a huge toll on him. Likewise, China has lost all his ancient friends over the years, making him the last one left (except turkey and Mongolia they donât matter rn)
Tenya Iida as Germany
You cannot tell me this isnât also a match made in heaven
Theyâre literally, at their very core, almost the exact same person
Iida is a stickler for rules- he follows every single one of them. Any and every. Pretty organized too, if I do say so myself
Likewise, Germany is also very strict with rules and regimens. Heâs also canonically OCD so mans cannot stand messes (people or things)
It may make them seem like pains in the neck but really itâs the only way they know how to interact
Also have some angsty connections with their brothers
Although not as easily provoked as Germany, Iida can still be just as terrifying (mans tried to kill Stain I mean come on-)
As with nearly all of these characters, theyâre both strong as hecc
Also, I feel like both of them are somewhat pressured by what their other family members have accomplished and want to achieve the same thing (Iida coming from a family of superheroes, and Germany really looking up to his father and brother and wanting to be like them but less yknow)
They donât really know how to communicate well?? Like, of course they can talk and hold conversation but they have difficulty with most social interactions (itâs adorable)
More often than not the louder voice of reason within their friend group (Everyone in the Dekusquad besides Deku himself is the voice of reason lmao, and Germany is a no-nonsense kind of guy)
Smart bois (In Gakuen Hetalia, Germany is said to be one of the smartest students and tutors Italy, and Iida tries his best)
All in all very awkward and loud losers beans that need to learn how to not be so stiff lmao
Shoto Todoroki as Japan
Yâall already know I had to pair the introverts together
Calm, collected and reserved- these two mind their own business like itâs a sports championship lmao
Even though they may come off as intimidating sometimes, in reality theyâre just shy and donât really know the basics of social interaction (more than Germany and Iida lmao)
Theyâre both fairly strong, too (Todoroki with his icy hot quirk makes him one of the most OP characters in MHA imo, and Japan definitely doesnât carry around a katana just for show)
Very very convoluted and not so great childhood (Think the sengoku period was Japanâs childhood so he was basically torn up as a kid while Todoroki had to deal with Endebitch)
Also both pretty smart??? Like, high key theyâre both very intelligent and skilled
Both their friends are slowly helping them get out of that super duper introverted mindset, but the poor bbs are still trying to learn how to be a lot less stiffe
Theyâre also really into architecture esp traditional Japanese architecture (canon in both)
I honestly think theyâd get along pretty well if they met, tbh
(Japan would get him into anime and manga and the bookworm in Todoroki canât resist)
The strange circumstance of Italy
Honestly, I could not find anyone in MHA that was remotely similar to Italy
I was very close to putting in Mina or Nejire, since those two come to mind whenever I think of bright and bubbly (Maybe Kirishima too, but it just doesnât fit)
So while those two are pretty much the most fitting I feel, they donât completely encompass his character enough yonow?
Like, I genuinely cannot find anyone who is similar enough to compare him to
So for now, until I can find a suitable pick, Italy wonât have a MHA character to be paired up with đ sorry guys
â
What do you guys think? Do you agree or do you think different characters should be put in place?
If this gets enough notes, I might make a part 2 including female nations and the others (or whatever characters you guys request)
Requests are still open! You can ask for edits or character imagines/headcanons!
#boku no hero#bnha headcanons#bnha bakugou#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha yuuga#mha aoyama#mirio togata#my hero academia mirio#bnha aizawa#aizawa shouta#mha toga#toga himiko#bnha iida#iida tenya#shoto torodoki#bnha shoto todoroki#hetalia#hetalia headcanons#aph america#aph england#aph germany#aph russia#aph china#aph japan#aph italy#aph france#headcanons#these are all just my opinions lmao#crossover
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Midnight In Sheffield (I)
Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader
Summary:Â When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician on her sleepless escapade in the AM.
Notes: Not sure if this is going to work out, but Iâve made the creative decision to write a series of Alex Turner fanfics, going down each album and all most likely lightly based off movies. Like the Grand Tranquility Hotel from the Grand Budapest Hotel, this one is based off Midnight In Paris. No need to have seen either movies to read these fics. It wonât take place around the same time, as Sheffield has been through some stuff in the early 1900s. I will keep it all a bit old-school themed, but just wonât name a specific era, so you can take your own spin on it. Iâm not familiar with Sheffield at all, never been there, so Iâll keep locations vague and add the Paris theme a bit in there. Hope you tag along for the ride, and letâs have one for the road.
Let me know if youâd like to be added to the tag list!
Chapter I - AM
âI donât see how this could be more important to you than meeting my parents,â she grumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow she had planted her face in. The sheets of the bed were soft and had a pristine white colour, much to her dismay. The entire hotel room was much too extravagant to her liking, but it was Mark who insisted on paying extra to make their stay most comfortable.
âPlease donât be difficult now, sweetheart,â her fiancĂ©e replied, as he set one of his neatly folded trousers in the dresser on the shelf next to where his ironed shirts hung. âYou know how much it means to me to be able to see James and Rachel again after all these years. Iâm sure your parents will understand. If not, Iâll beg for their forgiveness.â He dramatically bent down to his knee, as if to gallantly portray his apology, making her roll her eyes.
âThat wouldnât be the first thing youâd have to apologize for. First of all, youâre going to have to tell my dad why you didnât ask for his permission to marry me-â
âYou already said yes!â
She shot him a look. âAnd secondly, youâre going to have to explain to my mum why you didnât want to stay at their home. I think she wouldâve been very happy to play hostess to the man whoâs going to marry her daughter in a few.â
He crawled on top of the bed, his curly brown hair hanging over his face as he hovered above her and kissed her forehead. âIâll be sure to make up for it. Now, please get changed. Weâre having lunch.â
âPlease donât tell me itâs going to be at that ritzy restaurant we went to last time. Iâm still not over the way that waiter felt the need to explain everything to me like a five-year-old whilst pointing everything out with his little finger.â
âWell, you canât speak French, darling. I think he tried his best at explaining the menu to you.â
Her eyes narrowed. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âNothing. Just, please stop drooling on the pillow and put on something nice. For me?â
Seeing the convincing puppy look on his face, she gave in with a sigh and a very loud slurping noise as she lifted her head from the pillow, making Mark huff.
 Meeting with James and Rachel wasnât the worst thing in the world, because she didnât see them very often and they were overall nice people. At least, if you didnât count every time James tried to be the smartass of the group by giving some random fact about anything and everything they came across, or if you ignored the way Rachel was evidently very flirty and touchy with Mark, or if you turned your head away every time the couple made those wretched kissing noises as they shared what should be an intimate moment.
What Mark had with Rachel was something she could never come between, something she also shared with many good friends of her own. They were the type who would always share that bond with you, no matter how long you hadnât seen each other, and she could only be happy that Mark still had friends like that.
His work as a lawyer didnât allow for him to make all that many mates, as most try to stab him in the back just to be able to get that promotion they wanted. Heâd often come home with his head hung low after days like that, when loneliness took over the pride he had of his usually exhilarating job.
And thus, as she watched Rachel hug him extra tight, she kept her mouth shut. It was for the best, and it was only one afternoon she had to endure.
But she vowed to herself to not let it happen at her wedding. That was her day. Fuck Mark and fuck Rachel. She wasnât going to be left alone dancing with James, who seemed to be known for having two left feet, by her own husband. But that was something sheâd have to worry about in the future.
Her worries now were trying to translate a French menu without asking a waiter, deciding which fork to use, and refraining from telling James to shut up about the painting that hung behind him, of which he was giving an entirely unnecessarily intricate description.
âAs you can see, the painter made sure the flag of the boat is standing diagonal to the man in the front, to make the artwork a treat for the eye with this interesting form of composition. It makes the scene all the more dramatic, wouldnât you agree?â
Mark and Rachel hummed thoughtfully, but both were looking at the painting as if it was some Professor Layton puzzle they had yet to solve.
âWhat do you think?â James turned to her directly, catching her off guard. James usually wasnât one to ask others for their opinion, so she could only guess it was an attempt to test her bare knowledge on the subject to make himself look like the smarter one.
âI think you said it all, James,â she decided to answer with, âIâm afraid I havenât thought about art in that way since my classes in school. As of now, I have more important things to worry about than what the composition in a painting is like.â
It was low of her, she knew that, but someone needed to teach him a lesson.
âAh,â James said, seemingly unfazed by her subtle insult, âNow that you mention it, howâs your book coming along?â
She sighed. Of course, he was going to play that card. She couldâve seen it coming.
Being a published writer of a few mediocre novels sheâd written back in school, she was still in search for her new muse, and things were getting a bit desperate, to say the least. She had absolutely no idea what her next story was going to be about, finding everything in her life to be inexplicably boring and explicitly dull.
Not so much to say she wasnât happy. No, she liked being with Mark. But she couldnât say her life was a real adventure with him, or anyone for that matter. They lived in an apartment in the big city, where Mark had his day job and she her comfortable bed. Heâd come home and she wouldâve cooked â whatever attempt it was each time â and cleaned, and perhaps even written down a page or two only to never look at it again.
âOh, you know. Itâs getting there,â she lied, âInspiration is lacking a bit these days, unfortunately.â
âIâve always found inspiration to be a bit of a myth,â James said thoughtfully, âWhy is it exactly that one particular thing thatâs so inexplicable yet so necessary to create something? It seems a bit⊠I donât know, like an excuse for some writers. Iâve heard many talk about it seriously, and many call it pure laziness. But then again, I wouldnât really know much of the matter.â
There was the comeback.
She smiled tightly. âNo, you wouldnât. I can agree that some writers use it as an excuse to hide their laziness, as I find that a lot of characters write their own stories as soon as you sit down and start typing. However, inspiration is indeed something vague, and could be considered a writerâs virtue or downfall. Itâs however you approach the subject, and however you try to deal with it or rationalize it as an artist.â
âYouâre right, I shouldnât have even mentioned it. I wouldnât know much about it, since Iâm only an art consultant, after all.â He threw his hands up degradingly.
Fucker.
âOh, come on, letâs not be so childish. All of our work is equally as important, as long as weâre happy doing it,â Rachel intervened, before raising her glass, âHereâs a toast to inspiration and art!â
Though she was relieved the argument was over and the attention drawn away from her, she couldnât help but feel that familiar itch from the downgrading undertone in Rachelâs voice. Call it jealousy if you might, but she wasnât one to let something like that slip from her mind, however many years may pass.
âSo, if I may be so bold to ask,â Rachel continued, and the writer had almost collected her guts to blatantly reply with a ânoâ when the woman was already speaking again, âWhat are your plans after the wedding? Are you moving? Already thinking about having kids? No pressure, of course.â She laughed with a pitch so high it nearly shattered the wineglass she was bringing to her lips to pieces.
âOh, she always gets a bit icky talking about having kids,â Mark chuckled, âBut if it were up to her, weâd be moving to some remote village in the outskirts of France, living in a tiny apartment until we grow old and turn to dust.â
She shrugged at her fiancĂ©e, âDoesnât sound all that bad to me.â
âThatâs because you came up with it.â
âDonât you want to be closer to your friends?â Rachel asked, âWhy move to the middle of nowhere, when you have everything out here?â
âI donât know. I guess because of the peace and quiet. A simple life, with the bare necessities.â
âI wouldnât have protested if it wasnât for my job,â Mark added, which was a blatant lie. Sheâd heard him cut off her dream many times over for many different reasons. âUnfortunately, my French isnât good enough to be a lawyer, and certainly not in the outskirts somewhere.â
âI thought you barely spoke a word of French, anyway?â James asked her.
âI know, but I would learn it there. It would be a part of the adventure.â
He snorted, âIâm sorry darling, but adventure is for children. Itâs time to grow out of that. Perhaps you should find something you like in a proper job.â
 Sheâd prompted to walk back to the hotel, through the rain, as Mark, James and Rachel â mostly Mark â had tried to convince her to share a cab with them. But no way in hell would she spend another unnecessary moment with that couple, and Mark knew better than to follow her out, for she would only be walking too quickly for him, and he would have quietly trailed after her the whole way back.
So, when she finally reached the building, he allowed her to soak in the tub for a few hours before finally approaching her.
âHe has a point, you know.â
The look she gave him was an evident warning, yet he still had the guts to continue. âIâm not saying you should stop writing. I know thatâs your passion. But, Iâm asking you to maybe find something that could come close to that in the meantime, at least until you find something to write about. And perhaps, after we get married-â he kissed her wrinkly palm, â-we could afford ourselves a nice vacation cot somewhere in the outskirts of France, and we could visit it as often as weâd like.â
She pursed her lips, turning her eyes away from his pensively. âIâm not sure your job would allow that. Your vacation days would be limited, and my desires to go on a holiday always growing.â
He smiled gently. âIâm sure we could work it out after I get that promotion.â
She looked at him, her eyes slightly glossy. âI just donât want to feel like Iâm giving up.â
âYouâre not giving up, sweetheart. Youâre only taking measures to be able to do the things you like, and when things are going well you can set your priorities straight. Itâs the better thing to do.â
Her mind might be relieved to hear this solution, but her gut remained ridden with unease.
 âMark? Are you coming?â she called out, her hand hovering over the doorknob of their room.
âIâll be right after you!â she heard him say, âWork is phoning me, you go ahead. Iâll take the next cab.â
âAlright, but donât be too long!â
 They were supposed to meet with their parents that evening to share the big news, but after hugs were shared and multiple cups of tea were had, Mark still hadnât shown. She was beginning to grow worried when he didnât pick up his phone, and even went as far as to step outside to frantically see if the connection was better.
After eight missed calls, she finally reached him.
âCan you believe it?â she heard him slur, âI stepped into the same cab as James! Weâre at the pub, you should come join!â
Hearing faint noises of protest from others on the other end of the line, she quickly grew more and more bothered. âMark, we were supposed to see my parents tonight.â
âOh, we can see them again tomorrow! I figured you needed some catching up to do.â
âYou couldâve joined in on that catching up, as theyâve barely seen you three times over the past four years weâve been together.â
âPlease donât be like that sweetheart, you know I adore your parents. In fact, Iâll come over right now if thatâs what you-â
âNo,â she quickly cut him off, not being able to stand the mental sight of her parents having to deal with her drunk fiancĂ©e. âYou know what, have fun. Iâll stay at my parentsâ for the night.â
âSounds like fun! Call me-â
Sheâd hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence, and had dropped to her knees as she felt her bottom lip tremble. Not wanting to alert the neighbours, she quickly forced her numb legs to work again and strode in the direction of town, a walking route she usually took whenever she was upset when she was young. She sent a quick text to her mum, telling her sheâd meet again with them tomorrow and explain what happened. She really couldnât be bothered right now.
Tears streamed down her face at the thought that her feet were so unwilling to go back to face her parents, who sheâd have to disappoint yet again with a disappearing soon-to-be son-in-law. It wasnât that she couldnât tell her parents about her problems, it was the thought of disappointing them once again with a mistake she was making.
A horrible, horrible mistake.
She was no longer aware of which way sheâd gone, as all shops around her seemed unfamiliar, yet she couldâve sworn she hadnât messed up any turns in her route.
Wherever she was though, was a beautifully quaint, with antique streetlights and a cobbled road. Shop windows held curtains made from white lace, and showed off vintage clothes and items for a real bargain.
Must be one of those vintage sales, she figured, as her eyes grazed along cars with brands that were so old she couldnât remember the names of them. Stores like these must attract the more interesting people with vehicles like those.
It was when she saw a polished and brand-new-looking typewriter in one of the windows, she paused. Above it, she saw her own reflection; a puffy reddened face stained with an ongoing array of tears.
âI really hope youâre not crying because you want that typewriter so awfully bad,â a voice spoke.
She whipped around, coming face to face with a man who was giving her a kind look. His eyes were hazel, matching the brown suit he wore, and his head shaved to a buzzcut. He had sharp features, and still looked awfully British.
âI- Uh⊠No, Iâm not,â she stuttered, trying to wipe the waterworks away with her sleeve.
The man then held out a folded cotton handkerchief to her, along with a smile as an attempt to cheer her up. She gratefully accepted both.
âNot any bloke Iâd need to beat up, is there?â
She laughed blubberingly, âI donât think that would be the solution to my problems, but thank you.â
âThank god,â he huffed, âBecause to be quite honest, I canât throw a punch for the life of me. I wouldâve had to ask one of my mates to do it for me, and cheer him on as heâd won my own fight.â
âI donât think that would count as your fight,â she chuckled.
âDefending a ladyâs honour is always my fight,â he replied. He shook his head, âApologies for the rudeness, miss. Havenât even properly introduced myself. Iâm Miles.â
She gave him her own name, âand itâs nice to meet you, Miles. May I ask what youâre doing about this late?â
He gave her a strange look, âWhy, itâs the perfect hour, why wouldnât I be about? The night has only just started, and one of my close mates is preforming in the pub nearby. Want to join?â
She only took a moment to hesitate, before wilfully agreeing. âSure.â
#Arctic Monkeys#Alex Turner#Alex Turner x Reader#Matt Helders#Miles Kane#TLSP#The Last Shadow Puppets#Nick O'Malley#AM#TBHC#Jamie Cook#Wpsiatwin#Humbug#Suck It And See#Fanfiction
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Replay ch. 3
Chapter is rated M
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Rayla got up at seven, eyes heavy from the lack of sleep last night. Â âNoooo. Â UGH.â She turned to angrily glare at her alarm that had interrupted her rain noises. Â Aberdeen wasnât the rainiest place in the world, but the sound of a rain storm always helped put her to sleep. Â Her mum and da always joked she was named âRaylaâ because she was born right when the moon shone through a stormy night. Â
Rayla went through her emails quickly, making a note in her phone to call both sets of her parents this weekend. Â She missed the days in Scotland when Runaan would speak French with her and talk cheese or helping Ethari in his jewelry business. Â Runaan ran the books while Ethari ran the artistic side, his work with metal and jewel placement both tasteful and modern while taking classic elements from Celtic art. Â
Her parents had yet to retire from being bodyguards, but they regaled her with stories of Africa and Asia and Australia, how kind people were, the different foods and cultures. Sometimes, she wished she could have grown up going with them. Â Other times, she knew they had made the right choice leaving her with Runaan and Ethari. They wouldnât have had much time for her anyways.
Sighing, she rolled out of bed. Â She had a breakfast date with Corvus before she had to be at the office. Â God. Â She hated those pricks sometimes; a lot of old money lived in that office. Â She had thought she was leaving classism behind when she did her study abroad in the States for her law degree. Â Apparently, America just hid their classism really well instead of openly displaying it like they did back in the UK. Â
She lived well, was paid well, did better than anyone had expected her to do, probably. Â She had been more focused on athletics as a kid, leading Runaan to force her into ballet (âyou already know some French. Itâs perfect!â), Ethari insisting on Irish step dance (âLainâs mother was Irish. Â Itâs a world wide sensation, Rayla!â), and her own parents signing her up for kickboxing when she was in high school during their vacation from work. Her teachers had been frustrated that she was smart but didnât âapply herselfâ whatever that meant. Â She got good grades, did better in college, got into law school in another country, and passed the bar. Â She could apply herself just fine. Â She just liked to be active.
Rayla sighed as she stepped into the hot water of her shower. Â She had made a good choice buying this shower head. Â Slowly, she felt the burn that had started last night begin to build back up again. Â Green eyes entered her mind again, as well as a voice that she would love to hear calling her name out while she rode him. Â âCalm down, Rayla.â Â She couldnât meet Corvus horny. Â Rayla sighed, putting her forehead against the shower wall before starting to massage her breast. Â She tried to imagine it was Callumâs hand stroking her, dipping down to touch between her thighs where she ached.
Would his hands be soft or rough? Â There hadnât been any obvious calluses when she had shaken his hand at the cheese shop. She moaned, dipping her fingers into her wet heat. Â Her thighs rubbed together as she tried to chase that elusive release. Â She didnât have time for this. Â The more she tried to speed up, the more it just wasnât happening. Growling in frustration, she tried to play with her clit, breathing deeply as she finally found a rhythm that was working. Â Rayla bit her bottom lip and sighed as she came, inwardly crowing with satisfaction. There was no worse start to a day than being unable to cum after a wet dream or being too horny to function. Â
She washed and dried off, stretching her muscles before dressing. Â The green pantsuit and black top showed off her toned figure without drawing too much attention to any one place. Â Her heels made her even taller and, hopefully, a little intimidating to jerky clients or coworkers. Â She grabbed her purse and went out the door. Â When she finally made it to her car, she leaned her head on the steering wheel. Had she really started her day off by masturbating to a guy she met YESERDAY? Â
She shook her head, driving off until she made it to the little cafĂ© she and Corvus frequented. Corvus also worked in the same building, but for a different law office, specifically divorce.  Rayla had no idea how he did it, but someone had to.  She saw Corvus at their usual table, smiling at something on his phone.  âYour boyfriend sent you a naughty text?â
Corvus smirked back up at her. Â âNope. Just something about one of my latest clients. Â Well, their soon-to-be-ex.â
âGood news or bad news?â
âWell, considering itâs a custody case, itâs good for my client.â
âAbuse?â Rayla frowned.
âI would not be smirking if that was the case. Â No. Â Apparently, the ex has been mismanaging the childrenâs money. Â Lying about putting it in a back account for them and spending it on gambling debts.â
âYou donât call that abuse?â Rayla smiled up at the waiter who came over, ordering an earl grey, a coffee to go, and an omelet.
âThank you,â Corvus nodded to the waiter. Â âI do, personally, but everyone views that differently. Â The children were never struck, no record of emotional, mental, or oral abuse. Â It seemed like it was going to go 50-50 custody, which tends to be the ideal situation, but my client was concerned about the gambling problem.â
âSo best case scenario, gamblerâs anonymous and supervised visits eventually leading to 50-50 custody?â
âBest case scenario. Probably wonât happen, but we can all hope.â
Rayla shook her head. âI donât know how you do it. Â I didnât do criminal law or divorce law because I wasnât sure I could handle seeing evidence of child abuse all day.â
âItâs a lot. Â We try to spread those cases around as much as we can, because it gets to be too much when itâs all you see. Â When police reports come into play, itâs even worse.â Rayla nodded. Â âWhile you work for old money. Â Tell me, howâs Kasef doing?â
âHitting on me, again. Got upset when I told him off for glaring at a guy in a cheese shop for asking me a question.â
âHe comes down to our office on his breaks and hits on half the women there.â
âBelieve me, I know. Â His father gets really upset about it.â
âHow is Mr. Ahling?â
âStill insisting we call him âMr. Ahlingâ and not the proper âMr. Patel.â Â His health is starting to go downhill, so weâre hoping his daughter graduates soon and can start to learn how to take over the office.â
Corvus shook his head, smiling at the waiter with her when they brought their food. Â âThank you. Â Iâm telling you, join our office. Â You could be really good at gathering information.â
âThank you, but, no thanks. I grew up believing in true love with both sets of my parents. Â Iâd like to continue believing in it.â
âYou still believe in love. I love my boyfriend so much weâre moving in together.â
âWell, congratulations to you both. Â You moving in to his apartment or is he moving into yourâs?â
âMineâs bigger and closer to both our jobs.â
They talked work for a few more minutes, keeping an eye on the time. Â Rayla sighed as she looked at Corvus. Â âIâve got a favor to ask.â
âMy hairdresser would love to do your hair. Â Those layers are cute, but maybe you need a new look.â
âHa ha. Â My hairâs fine, thanks. Â You remember me mentioning a guy in the cheese shop?â
âYeah?â
âWell, he asked to draw me. He said itâs cool that I brought a friend and I would like to bring you. Â I donât really have any other friends in the city.â Â She finished her tea, opening the lid of her coffee to put some cream in.
âHe seem legit?â
âI saw his art. Â He also runs a YouTube channel with his friends and little brother?â
âWhatâs his name?â
âCallum Evans.â
âKatolis Squad!â Â Corvus smiled, clapping his hands together.
âYou know them?â
âOf course.  They do a lot of food stuff.  I found this cafĂ© because of one of their videos.  Also, my boyfriendâs a baker, remember?  Ezran and Claudia do a series on baking and sweets and he likes to watch them.  Callum Evans is also kind of known in the art scene in town and Iâve met his aunt a few times.  Lovely lady, soâs her wife.â
âHuh. Â Apparently, Iâm out of it.â
âYou just arrived in Katolis last year. Â I grew up here. Â You remember my boyfriendâs beignets you liked so much?â
âThose were delicious.â
âEzranâs recipe. Â His grandmotherâs friend was from Louisiana and she taught him how to make them like itâs done in the French-Quarter.â
âHuh. Â So, youâll come with me?â
âSure. Â Callum Evans seems harmless, but since he already approved it, might as well take advantage.â
âAgreed. Â I can take care of myself, but, you never know.â
âWhereâs it going to be?â
âAt his house. Â He said he has an art studio there. Â At least, thatâs what he implied. Â Iâm waiting for a text from him to iron out the details.â
âMaybe heâll ask to draw you nude?â Â Rayla flushed red at that, looking down at her almost finished breakfast. Â âOh? Â Something you want to share with the class? Â A reason you were distracted during kickboxing last night, perhaps?â
Rayla glared up at him, taking a few harsh bites of her omelet. Â She swallowed, keeping eye contact with him. Â âHeâs cute, Iâm single, thatâs it.â
âHeâs single.â Â Rayla paused. Â âHe broke-up with his last girlfriend months ago. Â She made a big Instagram post about it, saying they wanted to focus on their careers. Â Which was weird because no one even knew they were in a relationship.â
âSo, heâs probably used to people trying to use him for fame.â
âMost likely. Â He keeps to himself.â
âI saw that when I went digging online. Â His step-fatherâs the governor and his mother was in the military for a few years, rising through the ranks very quickly.â
âYeah. Â They try to keep their channel separate from all that, though. Â People are always asking them questions about it and theyâll either ignore it or say they arenât a mouthpiece for Harrow Williams.â
âFair. Â Iâll text you the details. Â Iâve got my coffee, gotta go.â Â Rayla put a $20 on the table and waved good-bye to Corvus, leaving to head to the office. Â Well, this just got even more interesting, didnât it?
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Callum rubbed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. Â All night, he had dreamed of Rayla. Â Her white hair down and around bare shoulders, purple eyes starting deep into his. âCome on, Callum. Â Make me feel good.â Â He tossed and turned in his bed, suddenly thankful for the fact he lived alone. Â His cock was at attention and it was not going to be going down any time soon. Â Rolling out of bed, he took his sleep clothes off as he made his was to his shower. Â He winced at the cold water, but sighing in relief as his erection went down. He had no time to rub one out. Â He was already running late for his meeting with Ezran, Soren, and Claudia. Â They had to go over whether or not to actually hire a crew now that their channel had six million subscribers. Â
It would be a smart move. Claudiaâs home-made beauty series was getting a lot of attention, as were her and Ezâs baking series. Â Soren and Ezranâs sub channel and Twitch channel was getting a lot of attention in the video game community for their letâs plays and commentary. Â Even Callumâs art sub channel was getting more and more attention. Â He was just worried about going bigger because, if they did, what if drama followed? Â It had been a PR nightmare when his ex-girlfriend had posted on Instagram about going their separate ways for their careers. Â Callum had asked her to keep it between them because he wanted to keep his personal life and his YouTube life separate. Â She had apparently felt that, after they broke-up, what he wanted didnât matter.
As he quickly ate breakfast, he couldnât get the idea of Rayla from his dreams or of her in a forest out of his head. Â Those eyes haunted his every though. Â âSheâs a freaking fae. Â That must be it.â Â Callum rubbed his eyes again, sighing. Â He sent a quick text to Rayla asking if she would be alright with her modeling for him in the woods outside of town. Â She would probably say ânoâ, but Callum needed to get this image out of his head and out of his system. Â He had just met her and she was distracting him already. Â Still, Callum wasnât so sure he could ever get someone like her out of his system. Â Even if they had sex a week straight, he would probably still crave her. Â âStop getting ahead of yourself, Callum. Â Sheâs probably in a relationship, you just want to draw her, and you have other things to focus on right now.â Â
All day, as the group discussed the benefits to do YouTube full-time, barring Ezran because he was still in college, a Scottish accent and a pair of soft eyes stayed in the back of his mind. Â Beckoning him to find her and take her under a waterfall in the forest. Â Would she scratch and like it rough or did she like to go soft and slow, like a wave? Â
Ezran snapped his fingers in his face. Â âCallum, focus.â
âRight.  So, I think taking a step forward is a good ideaâŠ.â He didnât have time to be thinking about faeries in suits from Scotland. Â
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Dinner Time
What about school?
WC: 1.2k
Previous âą pt.9 âą pt.10
You knew you had started to have teeny tiny feelings for Bokuto but recently, the affection you had for him had multiplied by the millions. You werenât just thinking âwow, Bokuto is so amazing, heâs skilled at volleyball and heâs impossibly kind.â Now you were thinking, âWoah, Bokuto looks so handsome today, he doesnât even tryâŠâ It wasnât just that, the sound of his voice was enough to envelope your body with warmth and whenever he spoke, you were entranced. He had no idea that he affected you so deeply, perhaps that was the worst of it. He was oblivious and couldnât put you out of your misery by rejecting your feelings. That was assuming he didnât return your feelings but to you, the opposite seemed impossible. Bokuto was too aloof to like anybody, especially someone so strikingly different than him. He would want someone that could capture his passion or even match it, they would catch his attention. But you, as mellow as you were, didnât stand a chance.
It was dinner on Friday, you had finished your food and were working on an article for the school newspaper. Bokuto wasnât quite finished because he always talked too much and his food sat on his plate until he remembered it was there and stuffed a forkful into his mouth. You were working on Bokutoâs laptop and a notification popped up, an email with the subject âYour Purchase was Confirmed!â Curiously, you clicked and were redirected to his email, the attachment was a relatively expensive dog bed. But Bokuto didnât have a dogâŠ
âYou werenât supposed to see that! It was supposed to be a surprise for PuffPuffâ He threw himself over the couch and landed with his body sprawled all over the couch, his foot on your shoulder.
âPlease donât tell me you spent so much on my dog.â
He readjusted himself, âDonât worry about it, I live comfortably.â
Flicking his forehead, you pursed your lips, âYou should be saving that for college next year. Housing is expensive you know?â
He slumped, âI donât know, Iâm just gonna go somewhere with a good volleyball team. It doesnât really matter if itâs prestigious or not. And a school nearby has one of the best teams in the country so I think Iâll go there and commuteâ
Your head lowered and you looked back at the laptop, lamenting over the fact that Bokuto would most likely cease to be in your life in a couple of months. You would be losing this boy that had become such a central part of your life.
âWhat? Youâre thinking something. Tell me- remember that thing we discussed about communicating more-â
You sighed, placing the laptop on the footstool, âI just forgot that we donât have the same plans and weâll be going to different universities...â
He eyed you dubiously, âAnd?â
You couldnât help but smile at his lack of awareness, âWe probably wonât see each other after we graduate, Kotarou.â
You said it with a dismal grin and Bokuto couldnât hold back his loud gasp (your parents looked to see if anybody was hurt), âHow could you smile while saying that? I know you said you lack reaction skills but thatâs just mean!â
âKotarou, please calm down. I was laughing at how it took you this long to figure this out.â You dodged his playful punches.
He stopped, âWait, where are you going for school?â
It shouldnât have made you so nervous but Bokuto looked fearful for the first time, like he was losing just as much as you were when high school finished, âI donât know yet but I applied to several schools, including the close one you want to go to. But my first choice is LâUniversitĂ© du Seine. â
âHuh?â
âItâs a French school. Itâs extremely competitive for journalism and writing majors and thatâs what I wanna do.â
He still looked confused, âWhy would you want to go to a French school?â
âItâs a really good school and the networking is amazing since people come from all over to attend. I could end up working in some exotic publishing company.â You lit up and he couldnât help but frown at how something you could be so passionate about would tear you away from him.
âIâm guessing acceptance rates arenât very high.â He was skeptical.
You snapped out of your daydream, âYeah...but I applied for Early Action so theyâre letting me know at the end of this month.â
âThat is early.â He sat back, holding back his comment for fear of getting into another fight with you.
_______
Now aware that there was a possibility heâd never see you again in a couple of months, Bokuto was desperate to spend as much time with you as he could. But this had to be the best-worst thing he could do considering how nervous you got from seeing him. He would walk you to school, walk you to classes you didnât have together and even invited you to Akaashiâs house to play video games. Akaashi didnât mind if you could help him tame Bokuto and you werenât bad company either.
You swung open his fridge to grab some snacks when you spotted a small box, decorated with pastel colors and a ribbon wrapping around it. You froze, âWait...AkaashiâŠ.do you have....â
Concerned, Akaashi walked over to you and followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the box, âOh yeah, macarons. Go ahead and take them if you want. Iâm not a sweets person really.â
You sniffed deeply as if already tasting the macarons by just thinking about them. You snatched them and thanked Akaashi with a bow to the floor.
âKotarou, macarons!â
âMacarons?!â
The two of you practically inhaled the box within a matter of minutes, Bokuto was praising the heavens for each bite. âSweet, holy...this...this is really the best...â
âThank the french.â Akaashi watched the spectacle from behind the couch. Bokuto stopped eating midbite, âThe French? Like where your university is (y/n)?â
You nodded.
Akaashi was interested now, he pushed his foot off the wall, making his way to you, âWhat french school?â
âLâuniversitĂ© du Seine.â
He broke into an impressed chuckled, âYou applied? Thatâs amazing!â
You looked at your macaron embarrassed, âYeah...Iâm supposed to get a call this week to let me know if I passed the preliminary phase and qualify for an interview.â
Bokuto was visibly upset behind you and Akaashi scowled at him, knowing why he was so upset, which he thought was ridiculous. Bokuto should be happy for you but he looked like a child with his arms crossed at the store because he didnât get the toy he wanted.
You noticed the face Akaashi was making and were about to question it until your phone rang. You held it to your ear. Bokuto leaned in close to listen.
ây/n l/n?â
âYes, yes. Thatâs me.â
âThis is LâUniversite du Seine. You applied a while ago and we want to congratulate you for qualifying for the next phase of the application process, which we would like to inform you about via email or text. Does this number work?â
âYes! It does! Thank you so much!â
Bokuto fell back in defeat and Akaashi nearly got up and beat him for being so inconsiderate. âI qualify!â You pulled the two into a hug, not thinking about how hot you felt from holding Bokuto so close. All you could think about was the amazing opportunity to come.
Taglist: @miyulovestowrite @hqprotectionsquad @slothplantsworld @lalaloverss @takingyouruwus @holophil @suguggg
I FINALLY NAMED THE SERIES!! WOO YEa, and if yâall havenât tried macarons, get on that shii, also!!
Go check out @iwachans-beefyarms, theyâre new but theyâve got some good writes over there đ
#why did i laugh for 20 yrs about the name#dinnertime đ#haikyuu!! x reader#kotaro bokuto x reader#bokuto#reader insert#haikyuu imagines#haikyu!!#haikyuu#my writing#my writes
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Blue Neighborhood Series: WILD (Crystal/Nicky) - Mac
AN: Hi there, this is the first of a series of oneshots based off of Troye Sivanâs Blue Neighborhood album. The basic premise is that all the season 12 girls live in one neighborhood but have very different lives. Each song off the album applies to one of them/a pair of them. And we get to see how each of their lives intertwine. Does that make any sense? Who knows.
All my love to Meggie for beta-ing. Hope you enjoy!
Summary: Crystal canât get her mind off her new neighbor.
Crystal groaned loudly as she heard yet another crash from the house next door.
She heard a few curses and another loud banging noise before the cul-de-sac went blissfully silent. Crystal fist-pumped the air as now she could finally, finally get some sleep. Who the hell moved into a new house at midnight?
Unluckily enough, another noise started sounding below Crystalâs window. This noise was softer and didnât immediately warrant a groan of distaste. No, it sounded an awful lot like singing. The voice was muffled, but Crystal became more and more sure the voice was singing as the notes travelled up a floor to her room.
The person sounded⊠rather good. Crystal hated to admit that their new neighbors, who had the bright idea of moving houses in the middle of the night, were doing anything well, but the fact persisted.
The singing was rather good. And now Crystal was both awake and intrigued. So now, of course, Crystal had to get up to peer out the window and see who was doing the rather good singing.
It was dark. Midnight. So she could barely make out the figure, but it looked to be a girl about her age, high school senior, maybe junior. She was carrying boxes from the back of the moving truck into the house.
Fuck it,Crystal thought  She was already snooping; she might as well snoop more. She opened her window slowly, wincing as it creaked from disuse. She went slowly, drawing up the frame until the warm night air danced across her face.
She could hear the song more clearly now, still didnât recognize it, but the singer was definitely a girl. It took Crystal a few more minutes to realize the song wasnât in English. Her three years of French seemed to fail her in that moment, other than identifying that the song was in fact, French.
The girl looked to have blonde hair, or maybe that was just a trick of the faint garage light that illuminated her. Crystal leaned a bit closer to her window to get a better look, in the process she nearly knocked the screen out of the damn thing and cursed rather loudly.
There was a scuffling from under her window and Crystal ducked down so she couldnât be seen.
âHello?â
The voice was heavily accented.
âIs someone there?â
Crystal held her breath, not that it would help much, she was a whole story above her neighbor. Still, the intensity of the moment made her wary.
The girl must have given up looking because she went right back to moving boxes, but her singing turned into light humming, and Crystal surprised herself by being sad at that fact.
The days passed, and Crystal saw neither head nor tail of their new neighbor.
She brought it up on Wednesday, during lunch, or what was considered their lunch period.
Freshman year, Crystal would always steal away into the art room to work on her unfinished projects at any given moment. This included lunch, breaks between classes, and sometimes even during her other classes. After about a year of her doing this, and her friends complaining about never seeing her, they finally decided it would be easier to hole up in the stuffy art room with her rather than brave the bustling cafeteria.
Crystal nonchalantly mentioned the racket that occurred the other night while trying to seem invested in the unfinished painting in front of her.
âOh yeah, the new girl, whatâs her name, Nicole? Nina?â Jackie shrugged. âSomething with an N.â
Jackie seemed unbothered by the appearance of the newest member to their neighborhood, as she went right back to studying for their chemistry exam. Heidi shrugged too and continued looking over Jackieâs shoulder as she studied for their chemistry exam.
âI think sheâs French,â Crystal threw out.
Jackie hummed noncommittally, absorbed in her studies. Crystal was just about to shrug it off when Aiden piped up from the table beside her. Â âYou talkin about the new girl? The one that moved in at the asscrack of dawn?â
Crystal nodded.
âHer name is Nicolette, goes by Nicky. Moved from Marseilles, France. Only child. Seemingly lives with her single mother.â
Crystal and their present company looked up from what they were doing to stare wide-eyed at Aiden.
She just shrugged. âI know people.â
Crystal didnât press further. She turned back to her unfinished painting and lamented that it wouldnât paint itself.
But at the same time, her mind was reeling.
Nicolette.
Crystal liked that name. It seemed⊠fitting in a way. Â
She went through the rest of her day with little care for anything else, Nicolette on repeat in her head.
She didnât know why she was so absorbed in this girl. She shockingly didnât seem to mind either.
When Crystal got home, she finally shook her strange stupor. She let the dogs out, made herself a snack and went up to her room to start on the metric fuckton of homework she had to do.
She sat down, opened her textbook, and promptly closed it again. She did this twice more, before actually starting to read the words inside.
Her focus drifted after the first few lines, along with her eyes. and she soon found herself looking out her window, but not just aimlessly, looking directly into the eyes of the neighbor she had been obsessing over for most of the day.
Crystal startled herself when she realized what she was doing, and had the decency to blush. The girl, Nicolette, Nicky she mentally corrected, smiled a bit at her clearly flustered state. Crystal felt her stomach flip.
This was the first time she actually got to see Nicky in the daylight, albeit through a crusty window screen, but goddamn, she was just as beautiful as her singing voice. If not more so.
Nicky waved after a few awkward moments of the two staring at each other. Crystal waved back immediately and then mentally kicked herself for looking too eager.Sheâs gonna think Iâm a freak.
But Nicky didnât close her window shade in horror, she didnât look disgusted by the mere sight of Crystal. No. What she actually did was look around her room for a moment before holding up a finger. Wait a second, she mouthed.
And Crystal found her mind supplying that she would wait much longer than that if Nicky asked her to. But she just nodded.
Nicky smiled and got up to search her room for something.
She came back a moment later with a notebook and a pen. She scribbled something down before pressing the notebook to the window.
Hi Iâm Nicky
Crystal couldnât stop the smile from spreading on her face. She pulled out one of her hundreds of sketchbooks and wrote her own message.
Iâm Crystal
Nicky smiled and wrote her response.
Hi Crystal
Crystal giggled to herself.
Hi Nicky
Nicky went to write something else down, but Crystal beat her to it.
You could just open your window, you know?
Nicky grinned, but jotted down something else.
I thought this was more romantic.
Crystal couldnât stop herself from blushing. Nicky was joking. Surely.
Crystal didnât have time to process the possibility of Nicky not joking because the girl in question was now opening up her window. Â
Crystal followed suit and tried to not look like a complete fool, evidently, the world was out to get her because the screen from her window fell lifelessly to the grass below her.
Nicky laughed.
And oh, they could hear each other now.
âI meant to do that,â Crystal tried to cover for herself.
Nicky only laughed harder. âSure, you did.â
And oh, Nicky was definitely French. Her accent smoothly tied up in her words. It made her impossibly more fascinating.
âHello there, neighbor.â
âHi.â
âHow you doinâ with moving in?â
Nicky sighed, âOh, you know, Iâm drowning in cardboard boxes, and I want to die, but what else is new.â
Crystal nodded, âI feel that.â
Nicky smiled softly, but averted her eyes, âIâm sorry I have not introduced myself. Iâm not the best at English.â
âYouâre from France, yeah?â
âWhat gave it away, the accent, or the good looks?â Nicky winked.
âThe flag hanging up behind you.â Crystal pointed to the very evident French flag on the far wall of Nickyâs bedroom.
âOh.â
It was Crystalâs turn to laugh.
And then abruptly stop laughing.
The sudden silence was awkward, and Crystal found herself tracing the lines of the fallen window screen on the grass.
Nicky also seemed uncomfortable by the sudden lack of sound. So uncomfortable in fact that she motioned back to her room, âUmm, I should⊠get back to-â
âYeah! Yeah, me too.â
Nicky nodded. âUmm, see ya?â
âYeah, Iâll see ya.â
Nicky smiled and went to close her window, but just before it could shut, Crystal called out, âSame time tomorrow?â
Nicky looked up at her and smiled.
âSure.â
Crystal nodded and closed her own window as Nicky pulled her blind down.
She found herself constantly looking over to see if Nickyâs blind went up.
It didnât.
Crystal couldnât possibly concentrate now. Her mind replayed Nickyâs laugh like a loop in her head.
Maybe that made her crazy. To be so infatuated with a girl after knowing her for less than ten minutes.
Heidi certainly thought so.
âGirl, you sound clit-matized.â
Aiden looked up from her sculpture to look confusedly between Crystal and Heidi, âWhat the hell is that?â
âYou know, like dickmatized, but sheâs a girl? Clitmatized,â Heidi explained.
âThatâs not a real thing,â Aiden said.
âWell now it is, hoe,â Heidi shot back.
âGuys!â Crystal exclaimed. âWe were talking about me and my problems.â
Aiden rolled her eyes. âSo what, you have a crush on her. Youâre beinâ a little creepy. Weâve all been there.â
âI think itâs sweet,â Jackie chimed in.
âI think itâs creepy,â Heidi called.
âI think you should talk to the bitch more,â Aiden said.
âI think Iâll just die in a hole,â Crystal lamented, throwing her head down on her open homework.
Crystal decided that dying in a hole would be counterproductive to figuring out why she was so infatuated with Nicky. Hence, she settled for trying to finish the homework she had neglected from the previous night.
The rest of the day passed slowly. Maybe it was because she had something to look forward to. Maybe it was just that high school was boring as hell.
Crystal didnât know.
What she did know was that as soon as she watched Heidi, Jackie, and Aiden close their front doors, she sprinted upstairs to her room.
She found Nicky had beat her to it and was staring dreamily out her own window. So she had most probably seen Crystalâs frantic running.
God, just kill me now.
Crystal put on a brave face and marched over to her window, opening it with greater care this time around so as not to dislodge the screen.
âHey there neighbor.â
âHey there.â
âHow was your day?â
âUgh, god, it felt like it would never end! I swear high school is such a scam.â
Nicky chuckled. âWell, what do you want to do after?â
âRealistically or in my fantasy?â
âOh fantasy, definitely.â Nicky smiled.
Crystal smiled and felt a bit of the tension in her mind dissipate, âWell, in my French vanilla fantasy, I get into this really prestigious art school, like the Juilliard of art schools. And on my first day of class, I create this masterpiece. Better than Van Gogh.â
âNaturally,â Nicky added.
Crystal giggled and continued on, allowing herself to really ham up the details. Nicky seemed to smile more when she did. âThey see my potential, and they fast track me to the big leagues. The MET, the Smithsonian. Boom. One cold day in February, that masterpiece from before is hung up. I am undercover in the crowd, observing everyoneâs reactions. After a while, everyone leaves, except for one guy. He is staring at my painting with an unreadable expression. I approach him. He is crying. He is moved to tears by my masterpiece.â
âHe wants to buy it?â
âBetter. Heâs a washed-up artist, hasnât created in years after his wife died tragically.â
âHow is that better?â
âIâm getting there!â Nicky held up her hands in surrender, and chuckled lightly. âSo heâs a washed-up artist, and he loves my painting and offers to mentor me. I decline.â
âWhy would you-â
âI offer to help him get back into his art. We build a friendship even though heâs a cynical old man who doesnât laugh at my jokes. But he starts creating again. He and I open up our own gallery in New York City. And people come from all over the world to get a look at our art. But the best part is, on the opening night of our gallery, I meet his daughter.â
Nicky rolled her eyes fondly, âLet me guess, you fall in lov-â
âWe fall in love.â
Nicky laughed. So hard she snorted a bit and then laughed at herself for snorting. Crystal went giggling right along with her.
âI like that world,â Nicky spoke softly. The fondness in her voice struck Crystal like a slap.
âMe too.â She smiled.
It was at that moment that everything changed. Suddenly, the tension that hung between them was gone. It was like the universe decided they had suffered from their mutual awkwardness enough. Conversation flowed smoothly from the two windows, and before either of them could blink, the sun had set.
They didnât seem to notice, talking long into the night about anything and everything under the stars.
Nicky talked about her childhood. Growing up in France and Morocco. She had so many stories from so many different places, Crystal worried sheâd never hear them all.
Maybe thatâs why they stayed up so late.
Maybe Crystal worried that when the sun rose, the spell would be broken, and Nicky would go back to just being the girl that lived next to her. And not this incredibly fascinating human that seemed to be equally as fascinated with her.
Unfortunately, Crystal wasnât superhuman, and after the third consecutive yawn, Nicky sentenced them both to some well-needed rest.
Crystal agreed, begrudgingly shutting her window and giving one last wave to her new friend.
They went on this way for the next week. Crystal rushing home to find Nicky waiting for her, window propped, a smile etched into the corners of her eyes.
Crystal swore she got more beautiful every day.
On one such afternoon, Crystal finally got the courage to ask Nicky about the night she moved in.
âWere you the one singing the other night?â
Nickyâs head shot up in surprise.âOh, god, did I wake you up?â
âNo! No!â Crystal lied. âYou sounded really good,â Crystal said truthfully.
Nicky blushed at the compliment and ducked her head. âNow you are just winding me up.â
âNo really!â Crystal insisted. âYou sing beautifully.â
âI really donât-â
âWait hold up!â Crystal cut her off and made her way over to the far corner of her room. She picked up the worn down guitar and came back over to sit by the window.
âYou play?â
âNot since I was ten, but itâs just like riding a bicycle, right?â
Crystal tried to play a chord and the screech from the instrument rang out like a gunshot.
âYep, just like a bike,â Nicky teased.
Crystal fiddled around with the tuning until the noise emanating from the instrument sounded a bit more like music and a bit less like a feral animal.
She played softly, getting reacquainted with where to put her fingers and what the hell a strumming pattern was. Nicky just watched her with a soft smile and chimed in with praise and some teasing words until the afternoon sun had turned into moonlight.
They had gone so long without talking that when Crystal finally spoke, her voice cracked. She blushed, but Nicky only smiled warmly.
âDo you know Landslide?â
Nicky nodded.
âOkay, gimme a second.â Crystal grabbed her laptop and pulled up the chords, before beginning to strum lightly.
Nicky nodded along to the first few notes, humming lightly through the verse. When the chorus came, she finally started to sing.
Well, Iâve been afraid of changing
âCause Iâve built my life around you
Crystal couldnât help the smile on her face. Nicky still had her accent when she sang. The fact made Crystalâs chest feel fuller than it should have.
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And Iâm gettingâ older, too
Crystal cheekily tried to chime in for the last line.
Said, Iâm getting older too
Nicky looked up at her pleased. âYou can sing, you can play guitar, and you are an artist? Is there anything you canât do?â
Crystal was very close to saying something stupid like âI canât stop thinking about you.â
But luckily, a voice from Nickyâs house called out before she could make a fool of herself.
âNICKY!â
Nicky sighed and turned around to yell back, âComing, Mom!â
She shot an apologetic look to Crystal who just motioned to say âGo ahead. Iâll be here.â
âSee you tomorrow?â
Crystal nodded. âSee you tomorrow.â
But Crystal didnât see Nicky tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.
Her blinds remained shut tight for the next week.
âMaybe she hates you.â
âAiden!â Jackie scolded.
âWhat, you were both thinking it.â
Jackie shook her head and turned to face Crystal. âShe could just be going through stuff. She just moved, yeah?â
Crystal nodded.
âSo sheâs probably unpacking still, or getting ready to start a new school. Or literally any number of things other than her hating you.â Jackie shot a glare at Aiden who held her hands up in surrender.
âOr she died.â
âHeidi!â
âJust me thinkinâ it?â Heidi looked to Aiden who shook her head. âJust me, okay.â
Crystal groaned. She had probably scared Nicky off. Probably scared her off so much she never wanted to see Crystal again. Probably scared her so much she was moving back to France.
Probably scared her so much she was⊠waiting by Crystalâs locker after homeroom.
âHey there, neighbor,â Nicky smiled.
And oh god, Nicky up close was even more breathtaking. Her long blonde hair tied into the most perfect braid and her outfit was so trendy and cute and, Jesus Christ, she smelled good too.
âSorry, I missed you the past couple of days. We went to stay with family and it was so short notice I didnât have time to tell you.â
âYouâre⊠oh.â
Crystalâs brain was still trying to process that Nicky was here. That she was real. And apparently going to their school. She looked to the locker Nicky was leaned up against and saw her name in cute cursive letters on the front.
âWeâre⊠locker neighbors?â
âYeah. I asked the principal to put me next to you.â Crystal must not have given the right response because Nickyâs face fell and she quickly started apologizing. âOh god, I am so sorry I should have asked! I wasnât even thinking. I donât mean to cramp your styleâ
Crystal couldnât help but laugh, âNo! Nicky, Jesus, if anything youâd be helping my style.â
âWhat do you mean? I like your style.â
âOh. I⊠Forget it.â Crystal shook her head to clear the blush from her cheeks.âYou want a tour?â
âI thought youâd never ask.â
Crystal smiled in spite of herself and held out her arm. Nicky gave a chuckle and took it graciously.
The two frolicked about the school, under the guise of a tour. They chatted and laughed and caught up with each otherâs lives.
Crystal hadnât realized how much she had missed this. This ease between them. The way their thoughts seemed to run together like ink. It was refreshing to have someone whoâs brain worked like yours.
When the bell finally rang for lunch, Crystal steered Nicky away from the mass of teenagers heading for the cafeteria, and toward the art room.
The two entered to find Jackie and Aiden already in a heated discussion about which version of A Star Is Born was better. Heidi was sitting next to Jackie just watching on in amusement.
The three of her friends did a double take when they noticed Crystalâs guest.
âHey guys, this is our neighbor Nicky.â
âOur?â Nicky asked.
âYeah. Heidi lives across the street from me, Jackie lives on the other side of Heidi, and Adien lives next to you.â
âOh, well hello there neighbors.â Nicky smiled and waved.
Heidiâs eyes lit up in recognition.âOh, is this the girl you been talkin our ear off about? The one youâre kinda in love with?â Jackie elbowed Heidi in the ribs.
Crystalâs whole body flushed crimson and she opened her mouth to respond, but Nicky beat her to it.
âOh, so youâre in love with me?â Nicky asked teasingly.
âNo! No. God, no,â Crystal lied unconvincingly. Â
She looked over to her friends for backup.
Jackie caught on and tried to cover, âNo, Crystal has had this insane crush on⊠on⊠on Gigi!â Crystal winced at that name. âYeah, Gigi. Since we were little.â Jackie nodded.
Heidi clearly didnât know what was happening as evidenced by the confused expression on her face. âWait, I thought Crystal broke up with her-â
Crystal cut her off, raising her voice to drown out Heidiâs âYeah, Iâve had this silly crush on this cheerleader. Itâs kinda pathetic. Like just cause we grew up together doesnât mean she would ever look at me like that.â Crystal laughed nervously.
Nicky looked unconvinced, and a little⊠disappointed. But the expression disappeared a second later. âWell sheâs stupid if she doesnât think youâre cute.â
âAmen,â Aiden called.
Nicky nodded and turned back to Crystal. âAnyway, enough of that sad stuff, letâs see those paintings you are always talking about.â
#rpdr fanfiction#crystal x nicky#nicky doll#crystal methyd#high school au#cisgirl au#lesbian au#fluff#flirting#blue neighborhood series#wild#mac#s12
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