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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years ago

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Green as the Ring | Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: Angst with happyish ending?

Time/Era: After the 2nd Wizarding War

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Y/N finds the resurrection stone in the Forbidden Forest three years after Harry defeated Voldemort.

Request: can I request a Sirius black x reader fic based on the song If I Die Young by the Band Perry?

A/N: Thank you for the request! Based on the song choice, I figured you wanted angst. Enjoy!

masterlist | read on ao3

“Do you think this will ever end, Sirius? Like, do you ever think we’ll win?” Y/N sat at the small table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Sirius sat at the other side, taking leisurely sips from a beer bottle and looking much older than he actually was. His eyes were sunken in from the lack of sleep and his forehead had permanent frown lines. This broke Y/N’s heart because, in her mind, Sirius was still the happy, go-lucky young adult she had married. But in reality, he was a sad man confined to the walls of his dark childhood home.

“Of course, everything ends sooner or later,” His voice was gruffer than she remembered. Maybe that was a side effect of the dementors, or maybe it was from the smoking habit he hadn’t been able to shake since his mid-teens. Y/N couldn’t tell.

“I’m not quite sure how to respond to that.” Sirius allowed himself one shallow laugh into his beer.

“All I’m saying is to trust Harry, darling. He’s strong and he will succeed.”

“He shouldn’t have to.” Y/N’s thumb twisted her well-worn wedding band on her finger. Sirius noticed this and covered her hand with his. A brief moment of silence fell over the kitchen.

“We should really clean that, you know. It’s not good for the emerald to be dirty,” The green stone caught the dim light and glistened. Y/N smiled, thinking about how that ring had been with her through so much.

“I would, but I don’t want to take it off.” Sirius sat back and grinned, instantly looking ten years younger.

“It’s alright, it won’t offend me if you take it off for five minutes.” His smile was lopsided and the perfect embodiment of everything Y/N loved about Sirius. “I’m honestly still surprised you have it.”

“Of course I still have it, my dorky husband gave it to me.”

His smile now reached his eyes, which was rare nowadays. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For standing by me, even through Azkaban.”

“I will always stand by you, my love.

“If I die, Y/N, can you make sure I’m buried in either satin clothes or a satin-lined coffin?” Sirius and Y/N found themselves back at the kitchen table. It seemed to be their meeting place, especially late at night when no one was awake.

“Well, you’re not going to die, first of all. And second of all, why satin?” Y/N stirred her tea and took a sip, allowing the flavor to overtake her senses. The house creaked, making Sirius switch positions uncomfortably.

“It’s an old joke I had with James, honestly. Mother always hated satin, and I never knew why. Also, weirdly enough, roses. James always said he wants to get buried with a rose and that I should get buried in satin to spite her.”

Y/N thought back to the night in which Remus, Petunia Dursley, and herself were sat in the living room of Number 4 Privet Drive planning the Potters’ funeral. Y/N was tasked with looking over James’ will. She asked Remus why he wanted to ger buried with a single rose, in which he shrugged. Petunia had insisted that it was silly, but Y/N made sure his request was fulfilled.

Y/N took a long gulp of her tea, trying to appear as if she was observing the table cloth’s pattern. “Well, that answers why James’ will said to be buried with a rose.” Sirius sucked in harshly through his nose.

“Was he?”

“I made sure of it.”

Sirius set his magic mirror on the kitchen table, a cold dinner remaining untouched next to it. The meal had been served hours previously, but Sirius’ anxious stomach didn’t allow him to eat his food.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Y/N asked gently as her eyes scanned his face. She used to be able to read his emotions like a book, but some time during those twelve years, he built a new emotional wall she had yet to break. His eyes glanced at hers for a split second before returning to the reflective surface of the mirror.

“We don’t use pennies, we’re British wizards.”

Y/N rolls her eyes fondly. “You know what I mean, Pads.”

“I’m just thinking about how me going to Azkaban really must have fucked with your life. I mean, you were seen as a murder’s wife.” His eyes pull from the mirror and brush over Y/N’s face, similar to how she did moments earlier.

“It was hard, I’m not going to lie, but I never thought you killed James and Lily. Not even for a second.”

“Did you wear your ring?”

Y/N paused, picking her words very carefully. “I wore it around my neck on a chain. It was too dangerous to wear it on my finger.”

“Yeah? I’m sure you were shamed,” His eyes drooped and the frown lines on his forehead grew more pronounced.

“I was threatened, yes, but nothing more than words shouted at me. It was hard, but I had Remus.”

Sirius gestures to the mirror on the table and sighs. “Do you think Harry will call?”

“I’m sure he will, just give him some time. He just got to Hogwarts.”

Y/N sat at the table of Grimmauld Place, but this time Sirius didn’t accompany her. Instead, Remus filled Sirius’ chair. He, too, looked much older than he was as they sat in silence. Y/N observed the green gem on her finger in an attempt to ground herself.

“I guess it’s just us again, Moons,” Y/N’s voice cracked. The house was now oddly quiet without Sirius; not that he was overly loud, but his presence alone spoke volumes. The building felt even emptier without his warm energy and inviting arms.

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” His eyes were glued to the wilted daisy bouquet on the table. Molly had attempted to liven up the house, but even they were riddled with death. It seemed as though all beauty was drained from the world.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. This isn’t fair.”

“It’s not, but this is what we have to work with,” Remus brought both hands to wipe down his face. He looked tired, both physically and mentally. “We have to be strong for Harry. We need to support Harry.”

Y/N sniffled again, “You’re right.” She took a shaky deep breath. “He’s with James now, he’s happy.”

“He’s with James now,” Remus repeated. Y/N couldn’t decide whether Remus wished to be with James as well or not.

“It was weird,” Harry’s voice shook slightly. “They were only a few years older than me, all of them. Sirius and Remus were only teenagers.”

Y/N pushed a plate of cookies towards Harry. It was months after the final battle, and after isolating himself, Harry had finally reached out to someone from the wizarding world. The pair were sat at the table in Y/N’s small flat while Remus’ words echoed through her mind. We have to be strong for Harry. We need to support Harry.

“Well, it’s said that in the afterlife, you take the age where you were happiest. For them, it was before your parents’ death, which would make them teenagers.” Y/N responded, taking one of the treats for herself. She couldn’t say she was surprised when Harry had shown up at her flat, the two had grown close before Sirius’ death.

“I wonder what age I’ll take.”

“Hopefully, it will be when you are much older. You have a lot of life left to be happy.”

Harry took off his glasses, wiped them on his shirt, and returned them to his face. “I want to be happy, I just don’t think I can.”

“You just went through something very traumatic, sweetheart, it’s okay to not be okay. It will happen, be patient with yourself. Let yourself heal.”

“Do you think you’ll ever be happy again?”

Y/N was silent for a long time before she was able to answer.

“I think eventually, I will be. Some things never heal, but they can scar. Losing my friends and husband will just take a long while to scar, as will the war.”

“It will take a long time for me too, I reckon.” Harry took one of the gingerbread men from the plate and took a large bite.

“If it makes you feel better, you aren’t alone. You have me, and the Weasley’s, and so many others.”

“You have me too, Y/N. I know you think you have no one, but you have me.”

Y/N smiled, silent tears rolling down her face. “We can work on being happy together.”

Harry made it a routine to visit Y/N regularly from there on out. And as he grew, their relationship changed from mentorship to a deep friendship.

“Have you looked into working at Hogwarts?” Harry said when Y/N discussed her unemployment.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you always say you want to teach and you’re quite good at it. I’m sure McGonagall would be more than happy to pass her transfiguration position to you.” Harry grinned, munching on a sub sandwich he brought for them to share.

“Oh, I could never live up to her! Besides, I’m not sure I could even walk the halls of Hogwarts again.” Y/N wiped her mouth politely with a napkin.

“What if I told you I already asked McGonagall and she said yes?” Harry had to bite back a grin as he watched his friend’s eyes grow wide.

“Harry! What-”

“I know, I know. But, I’m going to be the new DADA professor, and I thought it might be nice to have a friend there with me,”

“You’re going to be a professor?! Oh, Harry…They’d be so proud of you.” Y/N’s shocked face turned into a look of admiration for the boy.

“Well, they’ll be proud of you too, once you accept your new position.”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

Harry’s face twisted into a shit-eating grin. “It’s the least I could do, considering all you’ve done for me.”

Y/N pulled the younger boy into a hug. “Thank you, Harry. Really, thank you.”

Y/N skillfully walked over the overgrown floor of the Forbidden Forest. It was a Saturday, meaning most students were at Hogsmeade or sleeping, so she decided it was the perfect time for her to collect acorns. The young Professor had been teaching her second-year students how to turn acorns into actual heads of corn and had run out by 3rd hour.

The roots of the huge trees were very overgrown, so her gaze was fixated on her feet in order not to slip. It was a beautiful morning, with the sun just barely hung in the sky and the morning birds tweeting happily in the trees.

She was enjoying her small adventure until something out of the ordinary caught her attention, making her acorn harvest come to a halt. It was a smooth black stone, which seemed to be carved into a diamond shape. Y/N bent down and picked it up in order to observe it better. It was quite heavier than it appeared, and a bit sharp.

“Hello there, Professor,” A voice said out of the blue, making Y/N jump back. Her eyes came to meet the gaze of someone she never expected to see again.

“Sirius?” Y/N’s voice came out as a slight whimper. He appeared to be the cheeky 18-year-old boy she had fallen in love with, complete with bun, leather jacket, combat boots, and chains. Y/N took a step back in shock.

“Y/N,” He responded stepping closer. The gruff in his voice was completely nonexistent. “It’s a bit rude not to say hello back.”

All happiness seemed to return to his face; the wrinkles in his skin were smoothed and his eyes held the familiar mischievous sparkle Y/N knew like the back of her hand.

“How are you-? You’re dead!” Sirius chuckled and nodded.

“Thanks for reminding me, love.” His voice wasn’t rude, but light and teasing. His ring clad pointer finger points at the rock in Y/N’s hand. “You found the resurrection stone.”

She looked down at the rock then back at Sirius. “I can’t believe this. I never thought I’d see you again,” Her hand grabbed the ring around her neck. She began to wear her wedding band on a chain again to avoid questions from curious students. “You’re so young, you’re a teenager!”

“I know, hot right? I always loved this outfit.” His eyes were filled with love. “You’re even more gorgeous than how I left you,”

Tears flowed down her cheeks. “I miss you so much, Sirius. I need you, I need you so fucking bad.”

“I know, baby, I miss you so much. I am so proud of you, you’re doing so well. And a Professor! Look at you!”

“Can you see us? I mean, from the afterlife.” Y/N placed her acorn filled bag on the ground.

“Yes, we are always around. You just can’t see us. Actually, I’ve attended some classes of yours. I had to see how good you actually were.”

Y/N’s cheeks heat up. “Oh??”

“Calm down, love.” He laughs without a care in the world. “You’re absolutely brilliant! Harry, too. Remus said his boggart lesson was better than his.”

“I can’t believe you’re here, oh my god.” Y/N reached a hand out to touch him, but it passed through his form like air. Sirius’ eyes filled with sadness.

“I’m here, minus the blood and guts, I guess. We only have a little bit of time left.”

“What? No!”

“I know, babe, but anytime you need me I’m here.” He points at the rock then at her heart. “I love you so much, Y/N. So, so much.”

“I love you even more. All of you, I love all of you.”

“James and Lily asked me to tell you thank you. For looking after Harry, I mean. All of us are thankful, really. You two have been good for each other. They also say they miss you,” He smiles sadly. “We all miss you. Especially me though.”

His form starts to dim, making Y/N grow sad again. “We’ll be together again someday, my darling.”

“That we will, sunshine. I am so proud of you,” He grows paler, but his smile widens. “Just remember, every time you see a rainbow, that’s me there with you. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, darling. Until the day I die and after that.” As Sirius fades out of existence, Y/N puts the stone in her acorn bag and exits the forest.

The next class she taught, second years turning acorns into ears of corn, the window cast a large rainbow across the wall. The rainbow didn’t leave until Y/N retired for bed that night.

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years ago

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the language of flowers | an akaashi x gn!reader fic

hey dino!! could i request a short fluffy fic about someone having a crush on akaashi and works part time in a flower shop? they start leaving him flowers with meanings behind them and a letter anonymously on his desk in school. eventually, they get caught and confesses to him?? im a sucker for flower shop aus and i'd love to see what kind of flowers you would use!! ٩(●˙▿˙●)۶…⋆ฺ -🍙

-- ahhh this request was so fun to write !! i planned it a while ago and just wrote it all down in one sitting hehe. i hope you like this !!

pairing: akaashi keiji x gn!reader

word count: 2k words

contains: fluff !!, lots of flowers and their meanings, hints at a mystery novel night, high school au

summary: akaashi keiji has been receiving flowers from a ‘mystery florist’ (aka, you) for quite a whole. except, he might be crushing on someone else.

a/n: requested by the amazing onigiri-anon !! i really wanted this to be more of a full-length fic because of how cute it is so i hope you guys enjoy it !!

the first flowers akaashi had received from you were twin alstroemerias: one in orange and one in white. he actually had no idea what the flowers’ names were because he had never seen any quite like it. both of the flowers had three main petals and three smaller petals closer to the center that had dark little stripes on them. the white one had a slight touches of pink and yellow in the very center.

akaashi saw the two flowers, wrapped in a pink satin ribbon, on his desk one day after class had ended. it was a few days after finals had ended and he was still feeling bitter loss that hit the volleyball team. but, the sight of the flowers: bright and fresh and sunny, put a little smile on his face.

when he was at home, he decided to look up what the flowers were. it took a great deal of searching through ‘flower pictures’ on google images for him to actually find the name: alstroemeria, also known as peruvian lily. and, because he was curious as to why there would be flowers on his desk, he looked up whether there was a meaning behind the flower.

white alstroemerias meant ‘concern for a loved one who isn’t feeling well’ and orange ones were ‘working towards ones goals.’ akaashi smiled and placed the flowers in a jar full of water on his desk. he didn’t know who it was, but there was someone out there looking out for him.

...

“afternoon, akaashi.”

“afternoon, y/n,” akaashi greeted, sitting down on the table next to you. as usual, you were the first two people in the clubroom. that was mostly because your other members of the literature club were freshmen who volunteered for a ton of other clubs but akaashi didn’t exactly mind. he liked your company.

“another gerbera?” you asked, pointing at the flower in his hand.

“yeah,” akaashi smiled. “it was on my desk this morning.” he had already looked up what the meaning behind that flower after he got it for the first time and saw that it meant ‘cheer up.’ “it came at pretty nice timing too,” he added. it was a pretty stressful week for akaashi with cram school every day and having to study for entrance exams. the flowers were always tied with a pink, satin ribbon.

“are you still on the lookout for who your mystery florist is?” you teased, looking up over the book you were reading.

“i still haven’t stopped my search,” akaashi said, lightly running his hands through the silky flower petals. “well, i do kind of like that they’re this mystery person. i never thought that receiving flowers would be this, well, nice.”

“good for you,” you smiled and returned to your book, sneaking glances once in a while at akaashi as he admired the flower. unbeknownst to him, you were the mystery florist who had been crushing on akaashi ever since freshman year. it had started out as a way to cheer him up a bit after fukurodani wasn’t able to enter nationals. the day after you left the alstroemerias on his desk, akaashi had entered the clubroom with a smile on his face, talking about how someone was nice and enough to give him flowers.

and from then on, you decided to leave him flowers whenever you knew he was feeling down. most of them were gerberas, since there were always one or two left over at the flowershop you worked part-time at. but sometimes, you carefully sneaked out one of the fresh white poppies from the new flower deliveries. akaashi wasn’t really the type to celebrate things like perfect test scores or successful practice matches so you liked sending him a white poppy once in a while to remind him to be happy for himself.

the sight of akaashi walking into the clubroom with a slight sparkle in his eye, a spring in his step, and a fresh flower in his hand became one of your favorite things. and even though you could never convince yourself to actually confess to him, just seeing that was more than enough.

...

‘oh, another flower,’ akaashi smiled as he saw one on his desk as soon as he entered the classroom. it had been a good few weeks since he last received another flower and even though he knew his mystery florist shouldn’t really be obligated to give him flowers in the first place, akaashi still missed seeing fresh blooms on the makeshift jar on his desk.

as he neared his desk though, he found that the flower wasn’t the usual gerbera or white poppy, or even the alstroemerias that he first received. its petals were white and it looked a bit like a rose, except that its petals were a bit bigger and the scent was a bit sweeter.

‘i wonder what this is,’ akaashi thought, pulling up his phone and once again looking through flower pictures. this one was a bit easier to find. the flower was a gardenia: secret love.

...

you were practically holding your breath ever since you left the flower on akaashi’s desk. for the past few months, you’ve been playing it safe with the flowers you were giving akaashi. but earlier that day, while you were opening up the shop, a fresh batch of gardenias was delivered which gave you a crazy idea. akaashi would surely find out what it meant and your heart was hammering in your chest.

“a-akaashi!” you practically squeaked in surprise as soon as he entered the clubroom. the gardenia was in his hand and you felt your face heat up. “another flower, huh? this one looks different from the rest.”

“yeah, it’s a gardenia,” akaashi said, sitting down next to you. unlike before, you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face and that made you even more nervous.

“did you look up what it means?” you asked.

“’secret love’, apparently,” akaashi glanced up at you. “i guess, these have been coming from a secret admirer all this time.”

“aww, that’s so sweet! i wish i had one who’d send me flowers,” you laughed nervously.

“yeah, well the thing is, i wouldn’t know how to tell them,” akaashi sighed.

“tell them what?”

“that i like someone else.”

and with that, you felt your hopes deflate. akaashi already liked someone else. ‘probably one of the pretty ones in class,’ you thought sadly.

“well, i’m sure they’ll understand,” you said in a small voice before returning to the book you were reading. unbeknownst to you, akaashi there was a hint of longing in the way akaashi glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

...

akaashi had a crush on you ever since freshman year, when the two of you met in the literature club. he had already signed up for the volleyball club but since he knew he’d be able to balance things well, he decided to sign up for another club of interest. on your first day as club members, akaashi recalled you intensively defending fanfiction as subversive literature and making very impressive points for that matter. he knew you weren’t very outspoken and you tended to be quite shy around your seniors, but you always spoke up when you felt you needed to.

being in the literature club was even more fun with you around. you were the one who gave the idea of a ‘mystery novel dinner’ event for the cultural festival where you invited other students and pretended to be guests in a house solving a murder. akaashi had pretended to be the well-meaning, intelligent detective while you were lady of the house who mourned the death of her husband while actually being the real killer. the event was a success and akaashi fondly remembered how you were consistently in-character, even when akaashi was apprehending you after he solved the mystery.

when he entered the clubroom the next day, wondering just how he was going to tell his mystery florist that he couldn’t reciprocate their feelings, he walked in to find that you weren’t there.

“oh, akaashi-san,” one of your juniors who was there instead, greeted him.

“y/n isn’t here yet?” he asked.

“oh, well they came here and just left their bag. i think they were trying to buy snacks before the cafeteria closed,” they answered, pointing at your bag that was in your usual seating place.

“thanks,” akaashi nodded his thanks at them and sat down at his usual spot. your bag was zipped completely open, one of your usual habits, and its contents were fully visible. akaashi spotted more than a few books, one of them in particular catching his eye.

“’the language of flowers,’“ he read aloud.

“oh, i think that’s the one from our collection,” his junior said. “y/n has been reading it for a while. i think it’s because of the new job they got.”

“new job?” akaashi asked.

“yeah, at the flower shop,” his junior nodded.

akaashi blinked at the book for a few seconds before standing up. “i’ll be back in a bit,” he said, leaving the clubroom. as quickly as he could, he walked back to his classroom and peeked into the small glass window.

and just as he suspected. there you were, standing by his desk, placing a pink rose on top of it.

...

“thank you for coming,” you bowed as the customers left the shop. as soon as they were gone, you let out a sigh as you surveyed the mess of leaves, stems, and leftover wrapping paper on your workstation. a man had just come by asking for one of the more extravagant bouquets to give to his wife and your fingers hurt a bit from the thorns on the rose stems. you had been dealing with roses all day, especially now that you they were your most recent deliveries since they were in season.

you had also given akaashi a rose. you knew they had very different meanings depending on the color, but the pink one that you gave him meant ‘trust, happiness, or confidence.’ you figured it was about time for you to stop sending him flowers, especially now knowing that he liked someone else, so you decided to go all out and leave him a pink rose.

you tried to focus on cleaning your workstation and leave all thoughts of akaashi out of your head when the shop bell suddenly rang as a customer came in.

“welcome to-- akaashi?” the sight of him made you stop in your tracks. in his hand, he was holding the pink rose you gave him earlier. you watched as his eyes glanced from the bin of fresh roses on your worktable, to the pink satin ribbon your ribbons case, and you knew he had just put two and two together.

“you’re the mystery florist,” akaashi said, stepping closer to where you were.

“i am,” you sighed, knowing there was nowhere for you to run. “but if you want, i’ll stop sending the flowers. that’s the last one.”

“why would i want that?” akaashi asked.

“because... because you like someone else,” you said softly.

“ah, but when i said i liked someone else back then, that could have meant anyone,” akaashi said, a smile playing on the corner of his lip. “it could even be... you.”

your eyes widened as you understood the meaning of what he had just said. “m-me...?”

“yeah.” now it was akaashi’s turn to feel shy. “i’ve... i’ve liked you for quite a while, y/n.”

“you have?” you could scarcely believe your ears. akaashi, the boy who you had crushed on for so long, liked you back.

“now, i guess it’s about time i be the one to give you flowers,” akaashi smiled, surveying the shop. “what do you suggest?”

you let out a giggle, feeling that rush of giddy joy at the knowledge that akaashi liked you back. you looked around all the flowers in the shop, so many meanings, so many ways to say ‘i love you.’

your eyes fell on the bin of roses at your workstation and remembered how the thorns hurt your hand. “well, at this point, anything except roses.”

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love

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just-fandomthings · 3 years ago

Note

I’m not the anon who requested winteriron and 46 for the kisses prompt but I wanna know what the idea is you’ve come up. I know you’re still writing or just starting to write, but can I ask what the idea is?

Hi, of course you can ask! Firstly, this fic takes place after CA:TWS but before CW with three notable differences:

1. The team gets along and communicates here. They’re a family, not their own enemies

2. Steve told Tony about his parents being killed by the Winter Soldier as soon as he found out, so Tony has had time to process and grieve, and doesn’t blame Bucky at all.

3. Bucky escapes HYDRA in 2014 and after a stretch on the run, shows up at the Avengers Compound on his own.

I’m actually really excited for this story and I’m really enjoying working on it so far, so I’m going to take this opportunity that your ask provided to basically lay out the entire premise and most of the outline that I’ve created for this fic!

(under a reader’s cut however bc this is going to get long lol):

So the summary is basically this: Bucky’s been living at Avengers Compound for over a year now, and he’s just now realizing what’s been in front of him for months: Tony has a thing, a specialized, individualized thing reserved for each respective Avenger… except him. For example:

Steve: Tony lets Steve drag him across Brooklyn to all his favorite places from his childhood, and in return, Tony shows him his favorite parts of New York so Steve can have a balance of past and present. In doing so, he and Steve find beauty in accepting their own past and present, and are able to look forward to the future together.

Thor- Tony and Thor pull pranks together on the other Avengers; mostly harmless things, but some of them are outright mischievous pranks that make Thor a little choked up as he recalls stories of his (believed) late brother. In Tony, Thor can remember his brother fondly and also finds a new brother kinship, while Tony finds a sibling in Thor- the sibling he had always wished he had during his childhood so he wouldn’t be so alone.

Clint- Tony and Clint have battles at the shooting range as to who is the better shot with an increasingly crazy setup for their shots and targets. It’s good practice for Tony’s brain and a good distraction that lets him settle when he has too many thoughts at once when he’s stressed. While Clint has someone who indulges his crazy, fun ideas, and also isn’t alone when he lets some of his frustration out when his thoughts are too loud

Nat- Tony and Nat enjoy going to the ballet and opera together, something Tony enjoyed doing with his mother, and Nat enjoyed in the Red Room before those memories were tainted for each of them. They’re making new memories together.

Bruce- Tony and Bruce bake together. Tony has a wide selection of pastries and desserts he enjoys from all of his travels, same with Bruce, and they enjoy sharing stories and memories as they work on a recipe together to make some dessert the rest of the team has never heard of before. (It’s a treat for the whole team really, pun totally intended.)

Sam- Tony and Sam fly together, up for going on a flight at a moment’s notice if that’s what the other one needs. Being up in the sky can be very freeing when they’re trapped in their thoughts, but both of them agree it’s nice to have someone to share the skies with on a bad day.

So Tony has a thing with each Avenger except him. But it’s not like he’s left out? He spends time with each Avenger and with Tony too- they have their arm maintenance sessions of course, and sometimes he comes down to the workshop just to escape everyone and everything— It’s safe in the workshop, the most well-secured part of the compound easily, given the armors, FRIDAY, and Tony himself. And sometimes he comes down just because, to play with Dum-E and U, or to bring Tony a meal when he notices Tony missed a meal while on a working binge.

But they don’t really have anything that is their own thing?

Which…stings. A small, hurt part of him wants to blame himself for killing Tony’s parents under HYDRA’s command, for clearly that will always be an unbreakable force that remains present in their every encounter…

Except they are friends. They don’t have their own thing, yeah, but Bucky is sure of their friendship anyway. He’s seen the fondness in Tony’s eyes when he’s in the workshop playing with Dum-E and U; he knows Tony likes him. And on sleepless nights, often times they’ll find each other and talk about their respective nightmares until they don’t feel so empty anymore, which speaks more to their friendship than anything else can, really.

It’s just…they don’t have a thing, something special they do together just the two of them. Not like what the others have with Tony. And Bucky… he wants.

Here’s the thing though, Bucky and Tony do have their own thing- it just takes Tony telling him what it is for him to realize what’s been in front of him this entire time. Their thing is not as obvious as going to the opera together or showing each other various parts of the city, but it’s not supposed to be. Their thing is meant to be private, something that is only theirs, for their thing begins with... and ends with….

And that’s where I’m going to end this post, because their thing is for me to know and for y’all to find out when I publish the fic. I hope you like this idea!!

#winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #winteriron fanfic #my fanfic

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taetaespeaches · 4 years ago

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“Lead the way, Dimples.”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.3K

a/n: ok so this isn’t part of the requests. This is the Joon fic I started about a month ago and then didn’t touch again until a couple days ago... it shows how Joon and Daisy met, which was meant to be a one night thing. Have this while I write more of your requests. I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading :))

THE small moan that left your mouth had the man who was attached to your neck smiling against your skin, and well, somewhere along the evening things got really, really good.

You hadn’t been much in the clubbing mood but Dimples across the bar was just the right amount of handsome to change your attitude. Thirty minutes at the club, and two vodka tonics later, you and Dimples were ditching your friends, finding the backseat of a cab much more suitable for your plans with each other.

The conversation, if you could even call it that, started after Dimples had been making eyes at you across the bar for twenty minutes. When you held his gaze and quirked your eyebrows at him, he smirked and made his way over.

He was a bit shy, giving you a simple, “Hey,” which was sort of endearing.

“No pick up line?” You asked with a small smile, your eyes appreciating the divots in his cheeks and plumpness of his lips. Oh, how those lips worked wonders on your neck.

“Wouldn’t that be a bit cliché?” He responded, his lips spreading into a stunning smile. You smiled back, nodding as you finished off your drink. “Can I get you another one of those?” He asked you, causing you to turn fully toward him, looking him up and down with intention.

“What happened to Mr. Anti-cliché?” You teased, the man scoffing as he continued to smile at you.

“It could be a cliché, or it could just be nice,” he countered making you nod.

“Well, how about this? What if we skip the pleasantries and all the ‘let me buy you a drink’ bullshit and get to the point? I’m attracted to you and though I mean it when I say I don’t ever do this, your eyes are kind and if you asked me to come to your place right now, I wouldn’t be opposed,” you told him, those kind eyes widening in surprise as they scanned your features.

He waited for a moment before responding as he figured out how to handle your forwardness. “How much have you had to drink?” He questioned.

“Two vodka tonics,” you admitted. “My judgement isn’t clouded, I just know what I want.”

He slowly nodded, a small smile forming on his lips again. “Not clouded at all?”

“Maybe a little by those plump lips you have the audacity of walking around with,” you flirted, unsure of where your confidence was coming from, but the way he chuckled at the comment filled your belly with warmth.

“Jesus, who are you?” He asked, you simply shrugging. “I don’t have a car, so we’ll have to catch a cab.”

“Lead the way, Dimples,” you smirked.

And that’s how you found yourselves in the back of said cab, lips all over each other, his hand sliding up your thigh greedily.

He trailed kisses from your neck up your jaw, leaving a couple pecks to your chin before connecting his mouth to yours again. You dragged your fingers over the back of his neck, digging them into the hair at his nape, lighting tugging on the strands. The action had him smiling against your lips, pulling away just slightly, his plush lips hovering over your own.

Leaning forward, you nipped his bottom lip, Dimples letting out a low chuckle as he pulled his face further away, his eyes traveling your face, feature to feature, you shooting him an annoyed look. You tried to pull him back to you but he resisted, instead pressing his lips to your cheek as he let out an adorable giggle, an stark contrast from the way his palm pressed on your upper thigh, tingles shooting throughout your body at his proximity to your center.

“Come here,” you groaned, turning toward him to catch his lips. He easily gave into the kiss, his hand on your thigh sliding up to your hip as he pulled you even closer to him.

“You never told me your name,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Does it matter?” You asked him, kissing down his jaw to his neck where you planned to leave a mark on his pretty honey-tinted skin.

“You expect me to let a stranger into my home?” He teased through a low groan at the sensation of you sucking on his neck. You ignored his comment but he leaned away, looking down to catch your gaze. “Believe it or not, I do actually want to know your name.”

Locking your eyes on his, you bit back a fond smile at his sincerity. Telling him your name, he smiled, leaning forward to peck your lips. The action was far too sweet for the intentions you both had for the night.

“You gonna tell me your name too? Or should I just keep referring to you as Dimples?” You asked, smirking at the wide smile that spread across his face, those very divots appearing in his cheeks.

“Have you been referring to me as Dimples?” He questioned, his expression full of fondness that had your heart aching at the realization that this would only last one night.

“They’re cute,” you admitted, poking a finger against his left dimple.

“Here I was thinking you were into me for my charming personality,” he teased, bringing his hand to his cheek to capture yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Not just my dimples.” You shrugged and he let out a laugh, dipping his face toward his lap before looking back up at you with his warm brown eyes. “Namjoon,” he nodded, you smiling fondly at his shy introduction. Again, endearing.

You turned your hand in his grasp to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, Namjoon.” The man smiled wider. “It’s definitely your dimples,” you added. “Take what you can get.” In that moment, you realized you recognized him. He was an idol, and though you didn’t know much about him, you definitely knew you’d seen him quite a bit in the media. The realization made you nervous, but you reminded yourself he was just a normal person in this moment. A person you would very much like to leave with that night.

He chuckled, nodding. “I will,” he whispered, his eyes slowly dragging over your face again.

“I didn’t even notice your charming personality,” you teased him, Namjoon raising his eyebrows as if to ask is that so? “Yeah, didn’t even realize how completely endearing you are.”

“Endearing?” He repeated with a large grin.

“Yeah, had no clue you’re such a sweetheart,” you continued hyping him up, amused by the blush that graced his dimpled cheeks.

“Ok, that’s enough you master flirt,” he told you as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. He pecked your lips a few times before deepening the kiss again, just as the cab pulled over to the side of the curb.

When the car stopped, you suddenly remembered you and Namjoon were not alone and you were flooded with embarrassment. Looking at Namjoon, you realized he must have realized the same thing as he shyly completed the transaction before scooting out of the car, holding your hand to help you out.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you exited the cab, Namjoon closing the door behind you. Locking your eyes with your dimpled counterpart, you both burst into giggles, the man pulling you to his body as you buried your face in his chest in embarrassment.

“Here, come on,” he spoke up, allowing you to step back before he guided you toward his apartment. The building was huge and very nice, once again reminding you of the man’s stature in the public eye. He wasn’t just an idol, he was a popular and successful one. But again, that night, he was just a man who was as into you as you were him.

The awkwardness you both exhibited as you walked together suddenly made it very obvious neither of you were used to hook ups and one-night stands.

No words were spoken as you made your way through the building, though your hand stayed firmly within his hold. Finally arriving in front of his door, he softly said, “Well, this is it,” as he unlocked the door. Before pushing the door open, he turned toward you. “Y/n?” he started, you looking at him curiously. “Are you sure?”

Any sort of uncertainty you may have had deep within vanished at his consideration and politeness. “Namjoon,” you smiled softly, placing a hand on his cheek, which he leaned into. Cute. “I’m sure,” you nodded firmly, leaning toward him to press your lips to his sweetly.

Smiling, he pushed the door open, holding his arm above your head to allow you to step inside, him following behind. “I just moved in about a month ago but I haven’t been around much, so that’s why it’s empty and un-”

You cut off his adorable nervous rambling by grabbing his face and kissing him, Namjoon quickly reacting by spinning you around and pushing you up against the door. His hands were on your waist, yours on his hips.

Wasting no time, you slipped your fingers underneath his shirt and allowed your fingertips to draw circles on his warm skin. When you gripped the waistband of his jeans, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the door, quickly guiding you through the apartment toward his bedroom.

The man nearly fell over when he backed into a table, letting out a pained grunt into the kiss. “Jesus, you ok?” You asked with a giggle, Namjoon chuckling in response as he nodded, pulling you back to his lips. His hand slid down your lower back, his fingers toying with the curve of your ass as he backed you toward his room, separating from the kiss to ensure he wouldn’t shove you into anything.

As he looked past you, you placed kisses along his neck and Adam’s apple, a groan vibrating against his throat as a dimply smile spread across his face. As soon as he reached his bedroom, he grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you hard. Reaching the bed, Namjoon pushed you onto the mattress and immediately crawled on top of you, hovering over your frame.

Namjoon kissed you again as your hands reached for the hem of his shirt and pushed it up his abdomen. He sat up on his knees, allowing you to lift the shirt up higher before his hands replaced yours as he pulled the shirt over his head and discarded it somewhere on his bedroom floor. Your hands roamed over his abdomen before soon finding the front of his jeans.

You popped the button open, Namjoon’s hooded gaze directed toward your hands as you pulled the zipper down. He watched as your hands gripped the tops of his jeans and started tugging them down his thighs.

When you struggled to remove the clothing past his ass, his gaze lifted toward yours to find you looking at his face with a pout. He chuckled as he moved beside you, lying on his back as he pushed his pants off, leaving him in his briefs.

Before he could make another move, you rolled atop him, straddling his hips. You easily slipped your top off, Namjoon’s eyes raking over your body in appreciation, lingering on the bra before his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Fuck,” he breathed out, making you smile.

His hands grabbed the sides of your waist, squeezing the flesh as you reached behind you, unhooking your bra. Namjoon watched at the straps slipped off your shoulders, though you held the cups to your chest to tease him. His hands began moving up your abdomen toward your breasts. Settled on your ribcage, you pulled the bra from your body, leaving your chest bare to him.

Namjoon breathed in slowly as his fingertips graced over the bottom of your breasts, chills spreading throughout your body at the light touch. He looked up to you with wide eyes, silently asking permission, and when you gave him a smirk, his palms cupped your breasts, squeezing the flesh.

You arched your back and lifted your chin toward the ceiling as you ground your hips down on him, Namjoon letting out a sharp breath.

Flipping you over, he rolled on top of you and immediately went to work on pulling your pants off. Tugging them down your thighs, he lifted your legs up to pull them down to your ankles before tossing them across the room.

As soon as they were off, his hands found your thighs, spreading your legs apart as he nestled his hips between your legs, pressing his body to yours as he kissed you again. Your hands settled on the sides of his face, your fingers threading through his soft hair. He had one hand on your hip while the other held a firm grip on your thigh, slowly inching its way up toward your center.

Not much in the mood to be teased, you lifted your lips off the bed, trying to scoot your body down so his hand would finally slip up to where you wanted him most. Taking the hint, he smiled against your mouth as his pointer finger toyed with the hem of your panties.

“Namjoon,” you whined in frustration, the man chuckling above you in response.

“What is it, babe?” He teased.

Shooting him a glare, he quirked an eyebrow at you. Scoffing, you moved one of your hands from his hair straight down to cup him over his briefs, causing the man to take a sharp breath. “Fucking hell,” he breathed out, his finger immediately sliding your panties to the side, allowing himself to drag his finger along your center.

Pushing your hips up against his hand, you let out a small moan as Namjoon’s eyes roamed your body underneath him. “Hang on, let me just,” he trailed off, sitting up and leaning toward the bedside table. As he dug around for what you assumed to be a condom, you decided to remove your last article of clothing.

When he turned around holding a foil packet in his hands, his eyes landed first on your completely bare form, causing him to halt his movements. Then his eyes found your hand that was still holding up your panties, watching as you threw them somewhere in the room where they landed on the bedroom floor with the rest of the clothing.

Namjoon quickly stood up, shedding himself of his underwear, the sight of his erection sending warmth throughout your body. He crawled over your body, your hands finding his waist as his hands supported himself on the bed.

“You’re sure?” He asked you as he leaned down to leave a peck to your lips.

“Yes,” you whispered against his mouth. “I’m sure.”

Sitting up on his knees, he put the condom on, and you couldn’t help but stare at his concentrated features. The man was interesting in his mature presence and strong features, a prominent jaw and Adam’s apple, full lips that made him look sexy and seductive, an intense gaze. His chin jutted out just slightly, which made him look even more masculine.

But his eyes were warm and enthusiastic when they lifted to meet yours. A shy grin overtook his face, his dimples appearing on his soft cheeks. You found yourself admiring the man, and the way his assured appearance concealed a bashful man with a gentle heart.

“What?” He asked timidly, his grin still plastered to his stunning features.

“You’re just really beautiful,” you confessed.

His eyes widened in surprise as they scanned your face, bouncing from feature to feature like they had done several times since your first conversation with the man just earlier that night. “You’re calling me beautiful? You? Have you seen yourself?” The way he spoke the words emphasized just how truly shocked he was to have you complimenting him. And the way his eyes stayed glued to your face, not once looking down to your naked form as he expressed his admiration for you had your heart racing.

You didn’t respond, however, instead reaching down to grab his ass as you pulled him closer to you, Namjoon easily taking the hint as he lined himself up with you.

The initial stretch took you by surprise. It had been a while since you’d been intimate with someone, and the way Namjoon shut his eyes as he took a shaky breath above you, holding his hips still, you could tell he was both taking you into consideration as well as trying to calm himself down. Maybe it had been a while for the both of you.

His eyes opened and he locked them on yours. “You ok?” He asked you, a small appreciative smile forming on your face at his kind consideration. No one who was meant to be a one-night stand had ever treated you with such gentleness before. An ache resounded in your chest when you reminded yourself this would only last a few moments longer before you’d walk out of his life forever.

The sex was passionate. Namjoon would grab your chin and turn your face toward his, wordlessly demanding eye contact. He kissed you often. Your mouth, your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, his lips were constantly on you. The move of his hips was delicious and rough. His hands roamed your body freely, greedily feeling your curves and the plush of your warm skin.

Your hands stayed mostly on his back and his ass, gripping onto him and pulling him closer and closer. You reached your high first, a rare occurrence from your experience, and Namjoon only seemed slightly cocky about it. Watching him reach his climax was incredibly sexy, the way his gorgeous features contorted until his whole frame relaxed atop you, the full weight of his tall body pushing you into the mattress as he rested for a moment.

“Dimples,” you patted his ass with a giggle, trying to get him to move. He chuckled as ne nuzzled his face against your neck, leaving a few sweet kisses to your dampened skin.

“What is it?” He mumbled with a teasing tone. You giggled more until he eventually rolled off of you, lying on his side as he stared at you, dragging a finger along the edge of your waist and down your hip before traveling back up toward your breast. He repeated the motion as you both laid in silence.

You felt his eyes on you, but little did he know you were having an internal battle of what to do next. You knew you should leave. He was an idol, and you knew because of that alone it would be very difficult to make this work long term. Another thing was you both entered into this with the understanding it was just for one night. You just didn’t expect to be quite so smitten with him after just a couple hours of meeting the guy.

Gathering all your willpower, you made a slight move to get up off the bed, only for Namjoon’s arm to quickly reach over your body and tug you against his own. His other arm snaked under your neck to hold you there as his lips found the top of your head. His arm left your waist for just a moment to pull the sheet over your still naked forms before draping it back over you.

“Stay the night,” he told you. “It’s late.”

You held your breath, scared to move, scared to speak, not sure of how to handle the current situation. Your heart was racing in relief and excitement, but you still had this nagging in your mind telling you this was a bad idea.

“And I like you. I like you being here,” he admitted sleepily, kissing the top of your head once again.

The confession relaxed your body enough to feel comfortably settled in his arms. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to stay. Maybe this would never work out. Maybe you’d just be prolonging the inevitable awkward “thanks for the sex, see you never”. But as you drifted to sleep, the warmth of his body coaxing you into a happy and peaceful state, you decided your concerns were tomorrow’s problem.

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a-sirens-melody · 4 years ago

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Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.

#IT WORKS ON MOBILE #thank you god #anyways tada!!#ducktales #darkwing duck #drakepad #drake mallard #launchpad mcquack #my writing #drake has t1d the fic basically #and really bad parents but that's not new

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henrycavillobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Porcelain

Characters: Henry Cavill x Anwen Evans (fictional fiance)

Summary: Henry and Anwen’s life was perfect. Until one day, one phone call, changes everything.

Words: 3,444

TW/CW: Death, car accident, description of injuries, hospital, grief. Slight mention of implied sex; some bad language.

Notes: So here it is, my latest fanfic. It’s been a while, due to a bit of a mind block. The idea for this came to me, after being inspired by the song Porcelain by Emarosa (link below in case you’re interested). This one is different to my other fics, for one it’s not the usual Henry x reader narrative. I have created a character this time to act as his partner. Also this one is LONG (3,444 words). I have enjoyed writing a longer and more complex story and I hope you enjoy reading it. (As a warning, it’s SAD. I am not ashamed to admit I cried just writing it.)

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/7rk8cH53nI8ffb5ZccjfpT?si=QMVvEmA3TK-3WuQXJanMmQ

“Oww! Shit!”

Henry looked up from the book he was reading in bed. Anwen was rubbing her forehead and looking very wounded. She’d clearly just walked into the doorframe. Again. Henry laughed out loud.

“Don’t laugh at me!” A pillow flew through the air and missed its target of Henry’s face by a considerable amount. He laughed again.

“I can’t help it. You are so clumsy!”

Anwen climbed into bed, still massaging the sore spot on her head. She scowled at Henry. “If I remember correctly Mr Cavill, it was because of me being clumsy that meant we met for the very first time.”

“Hmm,” Henry reached over and gathered her up in his arms, leaning back against the headboard. He kissed her gently on the faint bruise that was blooming on her pale skin. “I do remember,” he said fondly.

It had been over five years ago now. Henry was out with his friend and colleague Simon Pegg, drinking their way through some of London’s best nightclubs. It had been a great night so far, with both men enjoying their freedom; they’d recently finished filming their latest movie and were celebrating. Henry was feeling happily tipsy, and when Simon offered to go to the bar for another round, he didn’t refuse.

“Get some shots too!” he shouted at Simon’s back as he left their table. Simon waved a hand in response; Henry took that as a yes and smiled. He was just checking his Instagram on his phone when something- someone- crashed into him and he felt the cold wetness of a spilt drink over his shoulder and down his shirt. He looked up incredulously. A woman was stood there with an empty glass and an equally shocked expression.

“Oh, my go- I am so sorry!” she said in a very attractive Welsh accent, Henry thought. He felt his annoyance dissipate immediately.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, accidents happen. How much have you had to drink anyway?” he asked cheekily.

The woman’s ivory skin blushed, contrasting prettily with her ebony hair, which was cascading around her shoulders in thick waves.

“Um, I actually don’t drink,” she admitted. “I have just shown you how uncoordinated I am; I really don’t need to throw alcohol into the mix.”

“Very wise. Hi, I’m Henry Cavill.”

“Anwen Evans, nice to meet you.” They shook hands and were making pleasant small talk when Simon returned with the drinks.

“What on earth happened to your shirt?” he asked Henry.

“Anwen happened. Anwen, this is my friend Simon Pegg.”

Anwen’s face lit up. “I love your movies! Hot Fuzz is just hilarious!” she said to Simon, who smiled widely and they spent the next few moments quoting lines from the film. Simon looked sideways at Henry, and saw the way he was looking at Anwen, and cleared his throat.

“Well, it’s been lovely to meet you, but I must get on. Henry, I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, winking at his friend. Henry mouthed a silent thank you, grinning.

After Anwen explained to her girlfriend’s that she was going to continue the night with Henry, prompting a lot of excited giggling and whispering, she sat herself down at Henry’s table. The hours flew by as they got to know each other. Anwen was an up-and-coming chef, who’d recently opened a new restaurant nearby in London. She told Henry about the restaurant’s menu, and Henry promised to try it out soon. In return, Henry told her about the films he’d been in. He was mock-outraged when Anwen admitted she’d never seen a Superman movie, let alone Man of Steel, and laughing, she promised she’d check it out soon. Conversation naturally flowed between them, Henry felt so at ease with her, and it turned out they had quite a bit in common. As Henry told Anwen about his akita Kal, Anwen told him she also had a dog, a golden retriever named Ciri.

“Ciri?” Henry had asked. “As in Ciri from The Witcher?”

“Yeah! I’m such a huge fan, I’ve read all the books, and I’ve played all the games!”

Henry laughed. “You are never going to believe who I’ve just been cast as for my next job…” Anwen’s jaw dropped to the floor when he told her.

The night ended with Henry walking Anwen home to her nearby townhouse, and they shared their first kiss on the doorstep, swapping numbers with the promise to meet up again soon for a date.

Now back in the present, nearly six years later, Anwen had moved into Henry’s penthouse, with Ciri who Kal adored. Both dogs were curled up at the end of the bed now, fast asleep.

In Henry’s arms, Anwen cuddled in close. “Yes, so if it wasn’t for me tripping and drenching you that night we wouldn’t be here now, so stop taking the piss!”

“Okay, okay!” Henry laughed. “I do worry though, you know. You’re like… like porcelain. So easily broken. Be more careful, I’d hate for something to happen, for me to lose you. I love you so much, my Annie.”

“Don’t be so soft! I’m not going anywhere, not for a long time. And I’ll love you until the day I’m gone, and if I can love after, then I will then too. So shush,” Anwen replied, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Anyway, I’m not that breakable, I don’t think. Wanna test this theory?”

Swinging her legs around Henry’s waist, Anwen straddled him and seductively removed her top. She was braless underneath. Henry whistled low, and licked his lips.

“Yes ma’am.”

Henry and Anwen’s life continued in perfect bliss. Both had never been as happy as they were with each other. Anwen was now an established celebrity chef, having opened many more restaurants worldwide, written a few cookbooks and even been on television a couple of times. Henry’s career as an actor was skyrocketing, his role at Geralt in The Witcher making him a household name. This meant that he had to travel all around the globe for work, however this didn’t impact his and Anwen’s relationship in the slightest, as she regularly went with him, using the time to research new recipes for her business. When they had spare time, they enjoyed exotic holidays, and it was on the white powder sand of the Maldives that Henry proposed. Anwen had burst into tears and accepted immediately, and they’d spent the rest of that holiday on their private island mostly naked, enjoying each other as an engaged couple. Their home life was refreshingly normal however. Behind closed doors, they were just Henry and Anwen, not the famous actor and the celebrity chef. They both took in turns to cook dinner, did the housework together and spent the evenings cwtched up on the sofa watching old movies. Laughter was a staple in their home, in fact they only ever rowed when England played Wales at rugby during the Six Nations. Life was indeed bliss, and it seemed nothing could burst this content bubble they were living in.

One average day in late autumn, Anwen was sat at the kitchen table, with her laptop open in front of her and Ciri snoozing quietly at her feet. Dressed in a pair of comfy sweats and a loose off-the-shoulder jumper, her hair piled artfully messy on top of her head and holding a large cup of coffee in her hands, she was looking at wedding venues online, finally making a start on planning their special day. A huge binder was also open on the table with multiple sheets on paper sticking out of it. She’d made plenty of notes and had lots of ideas; it was now time to put them into action. Henry walked into the kitchen, looking very stylish in back jeans and a tight black t-shirt. He was holding Kal’s lead and the akita was tip-tapping on the tiles behind him, clearly very excited about going for a walk. Ciri didn’t even raise her head, happy enough to stay in with her mum and continue her nap.

“I’m going to take Kal with me to the meeting with my manager,” he said to Anwen. “Then do you fancy meeting me after with Ciri and we’ll take them for a walk in the park?”

“Yes, my love, sounds lush. How long will you be do you think?”

“Not sure, I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“What are you up to today?” Henry asked, walking over to Anwen and kissing her on the top of her head. “Wedding stuff?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna send off some emails now this morning and then go to this bakery and try out some wedding cake samples,” Anwen smiled.

“Well, I’m jealous! Have a great day honey, I’ll call you later. Love you!”

“Love you, bye!” she called as he walked out the front door.

Henry’s meeting was going well. His manager had quite a few prospective roles lined up for him, and Henry was interested in the majority of them. His mind wandered to Anwen every so often; he still missed her when they were apart. As the meeting was coming to a close and Kal started getting excited again at going for another walk, Henry’s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID- withheld number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Mr Henry Cavill? I’m a nurse here at London hospital. We have you down here as Miss Anwen Evans’s emergency contact.”

Henry paled. “Is she okay?”

“I’m afraid Miss Evans has been involved in a serious accident. We have her here at the emergency department. Can you get here straight away?”

Henry had never moved so quickly in his entire life. After giving his manager a hurried explanation and asking him whether he’d look after Kal, he’d gotten in his car and sped through the streets of London, not caring that he was breaking the speed limit. He parked illegally, jumping out of the vehicle and sprinting into the hospital. His mind was in overdrive, all sorts of scenarios going through his head. He felt sick with fear and exertion. Flying into the emergency room, he looked around wildly, finding a nurse sat at the front desk.

“Anwen Evans? I’m here for Anwen Evans, I’m Henry Cavill,” he cried desperately. The nurse didn’t hesitate.

“Come with me.”

She explained to Henry what had happened on the way. “Anwen was crossing the road at a zebra crossing when she tripped halfway, according to witnesses. There was a speeding car, who didn’t see her. He… he ran right over her. He didn’t stop. There are police looking for the car and driver as we speak.”

The flash of anger that Henry felt was so severe that his steps faltered for a second. But then he pushed it away, to be dealt with later. All that mattered now was Anwen.

“Mr Cavill, Anwen is in a bad way. She has a serious brain injury, and multiple body fractures. The trauma team managed to get her stable, but it’s touch-and-go. The next twenty-four hours are critical,” the nurse said gently. “Prepare yourself before you go in.”

She opened the door to the dimly lit room. The sound of machines beeping dominated the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. Henry moved closer to the bed, his mouth dry, hands shaking. His Annie was lying in the bed, connected to the machines, wires snaking out from every part of her it seemed. Her beautiful black hair was covered by thick white bandages wrapped around her head, and every part of her skin was purple and blue bruises. Her striking green eyes, usually so full of love and sparkle, were swollen shut. Henry had never seen anything so heartbreaking; tears coursed unbidden down his cheeks.

“Can I sit by her? Hold her hand?” he choked to the nurse.

“Of course, pet.”

He pulled up a chair to her bedside and ever so gently took Anwen’s hand in his. It was reassuringly warm. He could do nothing for a moment but stroke it slowly. Worry filled every part of his being.

“I’m here Annie. It’s your Henry. Come back to me, you can get through this,” he whispered, and then as sobs wracked through him, he added, “you said you’d love me until you’re gone and I’ll be damned if you’re going anywhere yet.”

For the next few hours, Henry didn’t leave Anwen’s side; he didn’t let go of her hand. He held onto hope that she would get better. After all, porcelain could break yes, but it could also be fixed. And he would do anything to fix her.

As it approached eighteen hours since Anwen’s accident, a nurse came into the room and caught Henry fighting not to fall asleep. She softly tapped him on the shoulder.

“Mr Cavill, go and get some rest. You’re more than welcome to use the family room just next door. Freshen up, get an hour or so sleep. If anything changes, I promise I’ll come and notify you immediately.”

Henry considered this, torn between not wanting to leave Anwen’s side and the need to at least wash his face.

“I’ll be half an hour, tops. Annie, I’ll be right back.” He put her hand down, and exited the room, rubbing his tired eyes as he went.

He hadn’t been gone five minutes when a terrifying beeping screeched out from Anwen’s room. He ran out of the bathroom still with wet hands, his heart in his mouth. He halted in the doorway, petrified at the scene unfolding in front of him.

A team of medics were working hard on her, the unrelenting beeping just adding to the frenzy of the situation. Anwen’s heart had stopped; someone fired up a defibrillator. The shock that went through her echoed in Henry. He just didn’t know what to do. He was vaguely aware of someone trying to lead him away but he just couldn’t move, couldn’t tear his eyes away, panic rising, threatening to overspill. His Annie, his Annie was there dying on that bed, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. And then suddenly, the most sinister sound yet. A flatline. Followed by a voice.

“We’ve lost her. Time of death, eight fifteen AM…”

Then silence.

The sound that tore its way up and out through Henry’s throat was that of a wounded animal. He screamed, the feeling pure agony.

“No! NO! There must be something you can do! My Annie! Annie…”

The doctor looked at him with sadness in his eyes. “I am so sorry, Henry. So sorry. Please, everyone, give him some space.”

The rest of his team followed him out; the nurse that had told Henry to go get some rest was crying silently.

Henry stood rooted to the spot, in a state of absolute denial. Only a day before they’d been in their kitchen together, making plans to walk their beloved dogs, she was planning their wedding. Their wedding. Agony ripped through his chest, sobs wracked his body, his breathing erratic, his heart shattered, never to be healed again. Broken, like porcelain.

Henry didn’t know how he got through the funeral. He’d been to the funeral home, and dressed her in her favourite dress and shoes, and spent a long time brushing out her hair; he’d done that when she was alive, but the familiar act did nothing to ease his pain. When he got to the church, he walked down the aisle with her coffin on his shoulder, his heart heavy because he should have been watching her walk down the aisle in a white flowing dress towards him, he should be becoming her husband, not burying her. When it came to reading her eulogy, he was overcome with emotion, for the first time in his life not able to talk in public. His mother helped him down from the podium; his father continued the speech. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

At the wake, he got blind drunk. No one saw him for a week afterwards.

The news of Anwen’s death was plastered all over the newspapers and online. Headlines such as “HENRY CAVILL FIANCE KILLED IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT” and “CELEBRITY CHEF ANWEN EVANS DEAD AT 27” accompanied photos of the both of them. The hole in Henry’s chest got bigger each time he saw it. He threw himself into his work; being someone else for at least 12 hours a day was easier than dealing with real life. Because the grief was all consuming, terrifying, never-ending. When he got home to his cold and empty penthouse, he couldn’t escape it; Kal and Ciri looked at him sadly every night, the question in their eyes: “where is our mummy?” Henry had no answers for them. He spent each evening sat in the dark, in silence. There was no laughter, no enjoyment in life since she’d gone.

A few weeks later, Simon came to visit. He’d been dropping in regularly, terribly worried about his friend. Henry looked, quite frankly, awful. His hair was long and the curls unkempt, he’d let his beard grow out and he had deep purple bags under his eyes. He’d lost a lot of weight too, although he hadn’t stopped working out. Simon sat down next to Henry on his sofa, nervously voicing the question he’d come round to ask.

“Henry, it’s the awards ceremony tonight. Will you be going?”

Henry looked at him like he’d gone mad.

“Look,” Simon continued. “You’ve been nominated for Best Actor. It’s highly likely you’re going to win. Remember how she… how Anwen was really looking forward to going.” This was true. The red dress she’d been planning to wear was still hung up on the back of the bedroom door. “If you don’t want to go for yourself, why don’t you go for her?”

Henry thought it over. He hadn’t been out, apart from work and the gym, since before the accident. The thought of going to such a high-profile event caused panic. Yet… an image of Anwen, smiling before him in that red dress suddenly entered his mind. She had been so excited; she’d even helped him write his acceptance speech in case he did in fact win Best Actor. Go for her, Simon had said…

And that’s how, just hours later, Henry found himself back on the red carpet, surrounded by flashing lights and crazed shouting as paparazzi tried to get his attention. He posed for a few photos before hurrying inside and taking his seat. He ate the extravagant three-course meal without really tasting it, drank the wine without really feeling it. Simon sat by his side, a welcome support; a truly great friend. Then, finally, it was time for the awards to be given.

Henry clapped and cheered as each person won their nominated categories; showing his support for his fellow actors and actresses. Seeing them so happy actually lifted his spirits for the first time since… before. Then it was time for the winner of the Best Actor award.

“And the winner is… HENRY CAVILL!”

Henry sat in shock as the cameras and spotlights panned to him. Simon was on his feet, screaming “I knew he’d do it!” and then he was helping Henry up. “Go on mate, to the stage. You won, you bloody won!”

In a daze, he walked towards the stage, then across it, accepting his award from the host. The applause was tumultuous; it took a few moments for it to die down, and then everyone in the audience was waiting expectantly for his speech. Henry drew a blank; he had no idea what to say.

“You can do it, handsome!” a heartbreakingly familiar voice whispered in his ear. He looked to the side and his breath hitched in his throat. Anwen was stood there, a wide grin all over her face, looking devastatingly beautiful in the red dress she’d planned to wear tonight.

“I’m right here with you. I love you.”

Tears welled and spilled from Henry’s eyes as he turned back to face the audience.

“This award,” he started. “is for my Anwen. My Annie. I couldn’t have been the actor who deserved it without her love and encouragement. She was my everything. She still is. I owe this, my entire career, my entire life to you, my angel. I miss you more than words can describe, and I love you even more.

As he left the stage to even louder applause and cheers and flashing lights, he looked up, seeing the love of his life again, smiling, tears sparkling on her cheeks, blowing him a kiss as she faded away.

“Goodbye my Annie,” he whispered. “Goodbye.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fan fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill angst #henry cavill sad #henry cavill obsessed #HenryCavillObsessed

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skullrock · 4 years ago

Text

the captain

pairing: Steve x Hagan!Reader

request: Can I please request a fluffy fic where Steve falls for Tommy H’s sister? She stops by Scoops Ahoy to buy ice cream and they go all “Oh, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other” kind of? I love your writing so much 🥺

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Steve being Big Idiot, mentions of T*mmy H*gan

a/n: tommy’s party by peach pit intensifies in my head

===

“We’re out of sea-berry.”

Robin doesn’t look up from her book. “What?”

Steve grabs the empty container from the display case and nearly chucks it in her direction. “We - are out - of sea-berry.” He chucks it dramatically into the trash and throws his hat on the counter, then leans forward to rest his head in his hands.

“Steve, it’s just ice cream,” Robin says. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I am having a bad day.”

Robin’s brows knit together. “Because we’re out of sea-berry?”

“It’s not about the ice cream, Robin,” he says, lifting his head to glare at her. “It’s about working at a shitty minimum wage job with this stupid hat and my arms hurt from scooping stupid ice cream for stupid customers.”

Robin puts her book down and sighs, hopping off the counter. She claps Steve’s shoulder and he bristles at the feeling. “Hey, slinging ice cream isn’t stupid.”

“Oh?” he asks. “In this - in this costume?” Steve tugs at his shirt. “You don’t think this job is stupid?”

Robin winces. “Spoiled,” she mumbles, and leans against the back counter. “How’s the girl thing coming along?”

Steve sighs loudly, dramatically, and leans against the cooler, back to the seating area. “How do you think?”

“I haven’t kept track today, but knowing your record, not good.”

“I give up!” he cries out, throwing his hands up. “I give up. The - the - God or whatever - wants me to suffer. I am fruitless.” He stares at the ground and crosses his arms. “My dad’s trying to teach me a lesson on being responsible and the universe is trying to teach me a lesson on being - I don’t know.”

“Not an asshole?”

Steve winces now, eyes trained on his shoelaces. “Yeah, maybe.”

Robin sighs, feeling some pity for the boy in front of her. “Look, you only have a few more hours, okay? Just make it til then.”

Just make it til then. Steve can do that, he thinks.

And then you come into the store.

Steve does a double take, looking up from the to-do list he’s reading for the fiftieth time that day. His brows furrow and he goes a bit slack-jawed, shocked to see you. He hadn’t seen you in forever - since junior year, at least. He hadn’t even thought about you; Tommy and all things related had been forcefully eradicated from his mind. But he knows you from anywhere - knows the freckles and hair, knows your smile. Knows the laugh you share with a friend before you walk into the store, alone, playing with your wallet.

Steve continues to stare with his mouth agape as you approach, and you also do a double-take. You remember Steve - of course you remember Steve. He was all you thought about while Tommy was close with him. You’d begged your brother two things your whole life - to stop being a dick and to get Steve to go on a date with you.

Of course, he did neither.

But you’re grown up now, more confident and less desperate for a date. Still, despite the growth, you’re completely smitten. Steve’s even cuter now, has grown into himself. His hair, salon-highlighted, bounces as you both make eye contact. You remember the moles on his neck, his hands, his eyes - god, his eyes, warm and brown and always kind even when Steve wasn’t. And he was kind, to you, at least. You could always see past the bullshit facade. You knew who he was, deep down. You knew him as a quiet boy at the pool, the one who said please and thank you to your mother, the one who shoved Tommy when Tommy was mean to you. He always wanted to make you laugh, no matter what. You just felt comfortable with him.

You realize at this point that you’ve stopped walking and you blush as your feet begin to work again.

“Look who it is,” you say, smiling widely. “The one that got away.”

Steve smiles despite not understanding the joke. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Steve.”

“Been a long time,” he says, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah.” You smile sadly. “Tommy wouldn’t tell me what happened. I just knew I wasn’t going to see you anymore.”

Steve stiffens a bit at the mention of Tommy, but he shrugs a shoulder. “Well, you know -”

“I do know,” you say. “I wish I could lose Tommy and Carol.”

“I guess I got lucky, huh?”

“Yeah, guess you did,” you say, eyes trained on his. “And I got unlucky. I missed you.”

Steve perks up a bit, but his brows twitch together. “You missed me?”

“I - yeah,” you stutter, blushing. “Yeah. You were always cool and nice to me.”

Steve’s smile widens and he leans against the counter, clasping his hands together. “Yeah? Well, maybe I missed you, too.”

“Really?”

“You were fun,” he says, “and I think we connected because deep down, we both hated your brother.”

“And Carol.”

“And Carol,” he laughs. “God, remember when they made me have a pool party? And you and I went inside and played Monopoly for hours while they made out at the pool?”

You laugh, too. “Jesus Christ, your pool probably has mono.”

“Probably.”

You both stare at each other a little longer before you clear your throat. “So - ice cream? What do you recommend? I’ve never been here.”

“Lucky you,” he says, straightening. “Well, we’re out of sea-berry -”

Robin sighs behind him and he turns to glare at her, not enjoying the audience, but whips back around to you. “But we have other flavors.”

“Oh, boy,” you say, your smile starting to hurt your face. “Lay ‘em on me.”

Steve takes you through each flavor, dramatically reciting what they are and what the selling point is, handing you a small spoon for each one. You really don’t care to taste them all, but you care about talking to him - you care about your fingers brushing every time he hands you a sample, how his eyes light up when he laughs, how dorky he looks and sounds.

“We also have sundaes and stuff,” he says, “which I can also attempt to sell to you.”

“Do you make this much of an effort every time you make a sale?”

“No, just for you.”

You both blush but the smiles stay, and Robin is nearly gagging behind Steve because it’s frankly disgusting to watch straight people flirt.

“What do you usually get?” you ask. “I think I trust your judgement.”

“I don’t give this place my money,” he says, “but when I steal, I always get the USS Butterscotch.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What is it called?”

“Look, I didn’t name it!”

You laugh. “I bet you didn’t pick your uniforms, either.”

Steve snorts. “No way, I’d pick something much nicer -”

“What, like a pastel striped polo?” Robin quips from behind him.

Steve whips around again and opens his mouth to retaliate, but you say, “I think it looks good on you.”

He turns to look at you, head inclined as if to say yeah, right. “No, I look stupid.”

“No!” you protest. “It’s really nice. The color is nice on you.”

Steve can’t stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You think?”

“Yeah,” you say casually. “And it really shows off your arms and legs.”

At this point, Robin gets up and walks to the back, leaving you and Steve alone. Finally.

“What about my arms and legs needs shown off?” he asks.

You roll your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

“Like I don’t know what?”

“That you’re cute.”

Had Steve been drinking, he would have done a spit-take.

“I mean - like - uh. Like - you’re - conventionally. Attractive,” you add, anxiety gripping your veins. “Like. You know.”

Steve smirks. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” you say, leaning across the cooler to tug on his ascot. “You know you’re attractive. That was your one personality trait.”

Steve pouts. “Hey -”

“I’m kidding,” you say, pushing him a bit before leaning back to your side of the cooler. “I’d like a - whatever you said earlier.”

Steve whips his scooper out and twirls it in his hand before getting to work. You smile as you wait, watching him do everything very dramatically and with flair. He turns and produces the concoction to you, gesturing towards it theatrically before handing it to you.

“How much?” you ask, reaching for your wallet again.

“No way,” he says, crinkling his nose. “You’re not paying.”

Your shoulders drop and you frown. “Steve, come on -”

“It’s on me. I like to steal from this place.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Like Robin Hood.”

“Sure,” he says, not knowing who that is. “Like Robin Hood.”

“This better be good,” you say. “Because I’m not coming back if it sucks.”

“That’s too bad,” he pouts, leaning against the cooler. “I guess that means I’ll have to see you outside of work, then.”

You raise a brow and smile, grabbing the spoon in your dish. “Let’s see.”

You slowly take a bite. It’s actually pretty good, but you want to see Steve somewhere else.

“It sucks,” you say. “Worst thing I’ve ever had.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “I guess that means I’ll have to meet you at the movies tomorrow at eight?”

“I guess so,” you say, trying to suppress a smile. “What a bummer.”

Steve smiles fondly. “What a bummer.”

After a few moments of intense eye-contact, the bell at the counter rings, signifying Erica Sinclair’s entrance. Steve sighs and grits his teeth, looking back at you with a sympathetic smile. “I’m very glad you came in here.”

“Me too,” you smile. “Tomorrow? Eight? Movies.”

“Tomorrow, eight, movies,” he repeats, nodding, and you smile wider at how his hair bobs over his forehead as he does.

“Sailor Man!”

“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, sending you one last smile before going towards the register.

===

“That was so gross,” Robin scoffs. “You guys - ugh. For fifteen minutes!”

Steve smugly smiles at her. He walks towards her board and grabs her marker, dramatically drawing a ‘I’ on his side of the board. “I rule.”

“This time,” Robin says, unable to hide her smile. “This time, you rule.”

===

taglist (join here): @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @gothackedalready@wolfish-willow @sassisaluxury @willowrose99 @harringtown @write-from-the-heart @m-blasterrr @whimsicalwoodlands @anerroroccurrrrred @marvels-gurl @the-almond-dinger @ssanjuniperoo @darth-el @sourapplebaby @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @andyl394 @astil-be @troop-scoop@ilovebucketbarnes@mybestfriendthedingus @unknownherelm @metuel18@magnitude101999@simplesammyx @lukeskisses @stevenismyboy @dungeons-and-demodogs @scoopsahcy @strangest-hour @lucifer-reads @stevexscoops

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot

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silvia7272 · 4 years ago

Text

Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ Blossoming Friendships???

I really hope you’re all enjoying this new series; I honestly just came up with the idea on a dime, and then after I started developing it, I knew I needed to share it with all of my fans.

Also, when I actually get around to including more characters from the movie, it’s gonna be fun giving them some personality traits. I can’t wait.

And er-… I may have accidently messed up with some off the names. Since I changed most off the names already, I then decided to change them for Barbara and Olympia, however I had forgotten that I’d already written their names down in the story. Opps. I thought this would’ve been better since I think I saw some people complain about the United Hero’s super names, so I changed them, as well as if I’m going to add in going to Gotham into the mix and there’s already a character called Barbara, I just know I’ll get hella confused for who I’m talking about. I don’t want people to get confused but maybe I should make a post off the names I’ve already changed to begin with, just to defer from canon. Well, here it is.

My OC: Rosaniline Keyne-Hill was Rosina Scoats

Soliane Rin was Crisono Tassa

Canon Counterparts: Jace Keyne was Jessica Keyne

Aveon Keyne-Hill was Aeon Hill

Medusa was Uncanny Valley

(I kept Olympia the same)

Nebula was Majestia

Brianna was Barbara

Eostrix was Night Owl

So, I might just change them when I can be bothered to.

This fanfic and its ideas were all made before season 4 came out, so if something doesn’t add up please don’t worry. That information wasn’t available then, and unless it fits into my story or I like it, I won’t include it in my story. Also, that new Miraculous wiki can get lost, I’m not putting any of that new information in here if they couldn’t even put it in the show. (Also, so far, I do not care for season 4 whatsoever so yeah, I may not include any of that in this work and the other.)

Word Count: 9435

Tags: @vixen-uchiha if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged. I’m very sorry if I’ve missed anyone.

Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Summary:

Note: This fic contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.

In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?

Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...

But, of course, this wasn't normal.

This was reality. It was cold, hard and definitely not welcome.

So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life…

How long does it take for her to regret it?

***

Mlle Bustier had always believed her students were the best in the whole Collège.

In fact, she whole-heartedly believed that all her students could do no harm.

In her mind, they were at the peak of maturity, though they may be in their adolescence and had some seemingly petty dramas, they all prevailed to take whatever they wanted for themselves, when they saw opportunities, they rightfully took.

And Mlle Bustier only wanted the best for her students.

As much as Caline would never admit it to any of her work colleagues, she always knew her class was exceptional.

Kim, Alix, what with two of the sportiest people that were bound to succeed.

Max, A genius who was able to develop a fully functioning AI, when he was a teen no less. She could only imagine what other inventions her little Einstein could invent later on. The type of universities he’d get into, the job offers, oh the endless possibilities.

Ivan, Rose, Juleka, A lead vocalist, guitarist, and drummer in a popular rock band. Though she had heard there may have been a few mishaps in the band, she was sure they would be even better than before.

Mylène, A passionate environmentalist who only wanted to help the world become a cleaner place, and entered as many organisations as possible.

Nino, An inspiring DJ/filmmaker. She always wanted to help out by lending the classroom key afterschool, that way he could work on all of his works. Allowing everyone to take part even, it was truly one of her best rules.

Alya, A journalist's whose goal was to become bigger than Lois Lane.

Adrien, A model, the most famous teenage one by Parisian standards.

Chloé, The mayor's Daughter.

Sabrina, The head of police’s Daughter.

Nathaniel, an inspiring comic book artist that had gained a lot of attention online.

And Lila, a Daughter of an Italian diplomat.

Although she could admit to herself that not all of these aspirations were something that she could boast about, she could show off that all of her students had something they would work for or even show off.

And what did the others have?

Two weather girls and a writer? Caline would have to laugh, compare that with her class and you could clearly see who was at the top.

Although she hadn’t said a specific name for a reason.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The young fashion designer/baker’s girl.

For a while, that name had left a sour name in her mouth, whenever she had been forced to say it for the register, it only took her a few days for her to realise how much it annoyed her whenever said girl was late to her lesson. Honestly, did that girl not value punctuality? Nevermind in the workplace; what about her reputation as a teacher?

She was becoming a lot more reclused, gaining a disrespectful attitude towards her she had no recollection of when she had gained it, and became incredibly upset when she remembered every year on her birthday, the girl would give her a whole assortment of pastries and desserts.

Now, because she had somewhat highly encouraged her students to send gifts for a better grade, it was just a box of chocolates.

Just a small box of chocolates!?

How could she show off her gifts to the others now!?

And worst of all?

She refused to be the good little Class President anymore.

Her example?

Her Marinette off the world?

Did she not care about setting a good example? Or to be a role model to the class?

Really, to be so selfish, to all of her friends, how ungrateful.

She believed she had sorted this little problem when Chloé, in a fit off understandable jealousy, drew over her gift.

Marinette was unreasonably angry at the poor girl, and so Bustier had said how better it would be for her to rise up and become a beacon of light for Chloé instead of letting that hate and anger fester inside her.

To let go and help out everyone.

To not let your negative side take a hold of you and be positive around everyone in your vicinity.

After all, sharing and helping makes the world go round, and we do want to help the world, right?

She remembered those words she had spoken so fondly to her, as she was always someone anyone could come to for advice. It had always worked after all, after students were able to see the correct side, she’d be thanked which always left a small flutter of happiness around her.

Mendeleiev scared many students away, D’Argencourt with his eccentric personality, made students want to avoid being seen near him after lessons ended, and hardly anyone spent their time in the art club room.

Caline believed she was seen as a shining example of light by the other students, and knew she was seen as a Disney Princess by many, Rose had even called her that once.

However, getting back to the matter at hand, she was very pleased when Marinette had gone out of her way to make Chloé happy, of course, her attitude still remained mostly the same but Caline was smart enough to know it wouldn’t take one nice event to help the girl, so she was so proud when she carried on helping the poor girl out. Chloé was smiling more and even asking for a multitude of things from the blue-haired girl, and if she ever saw Marinette get unreasonably upset again, she’d send a very disappointing glare.

She knew being disappointed in students was a sure-fire way for them to do better and work harder, she knew how guilty her students would feel if they ever managed to get that gaze from their teacher, and… If the elder had done this a bit more on Marinette than anyone else… Well, she would just smile, telling them how much Marinette was able to accomplish, her trips for the class were so good, everyone was jealous. So, didn’t that seem good?

And even though she did see most of it going in the trash, she knew Chloé was just a little bit picky, she’d liked the interest in her, it was normal.

Her home life wasn’t something to be overlooked, she just knew the girl only wished for attention, and she was sure to be able to give it to her.

But then she… Stopped.

Caline had believed the girl had gotten wrongly impatient and told Marinette she shouldn’t be so extreme, but Marinette dared to fight back, against her?

She exclaimed that it wasn’t just Chloé anymore, how could she be expected to be nice to both her and Lila?

Bustier was confused, Lila? What did she have to do with this?

And so, the girl explained that she was just lying for attention, every breath that came out was just a lie. And she couldn’t stand it, she’d apparently turned her friends against her.

Now, normally, Bustier knew Marinette wouldn’t lie.

But, she also knew she couldn’t let this ‘lie’ be revealed.

It might harm her reputation.

She couldn’t have that happen.

So, she knew what she had to say.

That this was just girl drama that all teenagers had.

She couldn’t afford to let her empire fall so soon.

And for something like that.

The faces of the other teachers.

The gossip surrounding her.

“Looks like Caline’s not so good a teacher after all.”

No, she couldn’t bare it.

Who said a little white lie would hurt anyone?

In order to keep her class, exactly the same.

A few snips were made to maintain its image.

And if she had to snip her most prized student.

Then… So be it.

***

When she entered her classroom it was just like any other day.

Her students forming around a desk in the front of the room.

She always commended her students for such actions, she knew how sweet and silent the girl could be and loved how accommodating the class could be to her.

She couldn’t help the wondering gaze that looked upon the back row.

A certain seat was empty, but that was routine by now. And even though there was still 5 minutes till the bell, she still marked her late in her book.

Sometimes Caline had to think if at some points she had expected too much of this single girl… But only to remember that, no, in fact, when Marinette had a better attitude, she had expected too less. Back when she gained some confidence, she had always surpassed her expectations, her trips were the highlight off her job, her morning snacks were a welcomed surprise, her need to prove herself let her have as many responsibilities as possible, yes some were meant to be her own paperwork, but she’d never seen Marinette excel so much, it was a dream come true.

If she could just push her, just a little more… She was sure Marinette would go back to her obedient self, and it would make Bustier’s job a lot easier.

Although… The new student seemed like the perfect candidate as well, since Marinette may not follow her good example, she may be able to get a different example.

She could see just how sweet and pleasant the cherry haired girl was, she’d be perfect for the role. Sneaking a quick glance at the girl who was simply minding her business reading a book and keeping to herself. She did take note she had a bit of a limp for the past week, but didn’t bring it up just to not embarrass the girl in front of the whole class. She just knew if she was able to simply send her views her way, a new example would be made, hell she may even be able to have two if Rosaniline became such a good influence on Marinette she may even change again.

She also just knew Rosann would be good for Chloé, after all, they’d have so much to talk about, and coming from similar backgrounds she could make sure they could be paired together as much as possible.

Of course, only she knew about her family name, Monsieur Damocles had been informed by her residence that they’d prefer not to spread this information about, for it had been such a hinderance for her to make friends before.

Bustier frowned, she knew very well her students wouldn’t try to suck up to her, she almost felt insulted that she wouldn’t trust her students.

But the worst part was that she couldn’t brag about her new student to anyone, no one could find out or they’d all face some action from her Mother, she was very clear on that.

However Bustier tried to not let it bother her too much, after all she was sure she could give a gentle nudge in the right direction about trusting friends and not keeping secrets, to coax her out of her shell. She’d just have to be excruciatingly patient.

Clapping her hands was a symbol for them all to pay attention, she’d never raise her voice to them, not even a little, and she knew they would respect it and quieten down their chatter.

And just like that, the door opened to a fashionably late bluenette. Bustier would feign ignorance to the rather disappointing glares stares the girl was receiving, after all, she was giving one off her own.

She sheepishly walked to her seat just as the bell rang, honestly, she’d given her a lot of warnings before about her punctuality, did she really need to brief her Parents in about the situation?

“Well class, since all of you are here now, I can get on with the lesson” And so began her teaching.

It was fairly simple, she knew her students would be able to easily understand, after all, she knew they were the best, the smartest.

She had to explain the project they were bound to complete to a high standard, she just knew it was another to her list of student’s accomplishments she could brag about.

The project entailed 30% of coursework they must do in pairs in the span of 2 months. They could choose any topic so long as it followed the theme.

And this year’s theme was history, generally her students would groan at this topic, but considering they were able to decide on their personal preferences that should help encourage them to complete it to the best of their ability.

Plus, it helped towards their end of the year grade, and helped their teamwork skills. Of course, Mlle Bustier would always try to be as generous as she could, she wouldn’t remove marks from accidental mistakes unlike a purple haired teacher would, she just couldn’t bear to be so mean to them when she knew they were trying so hard to get all of their marks, she couldn’t punish them for that. Even if it was not necessarily the right thing to do, she couldn’t let there be any wrongful disappointment.

As long as they carried on being a great example, she could never fail them.

Besides everyone loved her projects, while having to be in pairs they always got to present it in any way they wanted, a science experiment, PowerPoint presentation to even a play, she was so very proud when Mylène did that play from last year, so impressive and she had gotten out of her shell. All she had to do was make them follow a simple rule before they could go all out. Her students loved the independence, and when they asked what type of ideas she had, she gleamed and expressed her own interest in the fairy tales. There was so much you could do with so many magical stories and elements, the possibilities were endless. She loved always talking about them in at least all of her lesson as she knew how many life lessons could come out of it.

And besides, in a sense, the other thing that made her the best teacher, she let them pick their own partners.

Of course, she had to make it seem like that.

It was always the same since kindergarten, everyone’s names would be placed in a bowl on a piece of paper, and one by one she’d pick a name up, when she read it out loud other people could raise their hands to ask to be their partner.

Normally it would be the first person to raise their hand, however, Caline wasn’t stupid, there were certain pairs she didn’t always want together.

Such as Alix and Kim, if it were a presentation about sports, she wouldn’t mind as much, knowing they would present a physical display of their athleticism… However, she knew if they were paired up for a slideshow presentation about let’s say, politics. She knew they would only start at the last minute, and include a very messily strown up slideshow. And with Marinette refusing to help out her classmates with even the simplest of matters, her hands were tied.

So, if they ever stuck their hand up for either of them, Bustier would wait to see who else would put their hand up, most of the time it was either Max or Nathaniel respectfully, and since they were all friends, no one had called her out for it.

And that’s how she got around it.

So, she started doing her routine, swirling her hand around the, she picked one up and began to read it aloud.

“Lila Rossi. And who would like to be her partner?” Immediately several hands shot up, bringing a smile on her face again, so many wanted to help this girl it filled her with pride and comfort.

And well, she always had to help by picking the most knowledgeable of students.

“Max, I believe I saw your hand up first” Some students moaned that they couldn’t be with Lila, but they knew that maybe next time they would get a shot.

“Ivan Bruel” Unsurprisingly Mylène’s hand shot up first followed by Juleka and Rose, now normally she wouldn’t let couples be together, but she couldn’t break them up, they did their work so well, so she let it slide.

Grabbing the next piece of paper Caline’s once bright smile, dropped as her eyes scanned over the name before sighing audibly, she didn’t need to hide it, everyone knew whose name it was.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng took a deep sigh.

As soon as Bustier told them about a presentation she was immediately filled with dread.

She could quite easily do it well, or at least get a well enough grade considering Bustier’s shady marking skills.

But her partners influence would be something she dreaded.

Best case scenario, they’ll be so repulsed to be in the same room with her that they’d work independently, and it would more or less seem like two separate presentations in one. Her grade was low.

Worst case scenario, she’d be subjected to either do it alone, or screamed about how much they don’t want to be near her. Her grade would be lowered.

Not theirs, hers.

Bustier would exclaim how she wanted the bluenette to rise above it all and forgive them, and until she was a better student in her eyes, she’d be punished for it.

It didn’t help that when her name was specifically called out, there would be a silence they’ll have to endure for what would seem like eternity.

It would either stop when someone so nobly sacrificed themselves to team up with her or Bustier would be forced to wait until the end for the last name to be picked out.

And she hated having to feel like this.

They were all friends, why did it have to be like this?

And well, just like this silence, it would last for a rather uncomfortable time, more than Marinette liked.

Her head rested on the desk, she at this point didn’t care about her appearance in front of the new girl. It had been a week already and at this point Marinette knew they’d be no point getting to know someone who was bound to abandon her.

It was a despairing truth she’d learn from experience, it was why no one hung around her, even from the other classes, they would be a target next.

Marinette couldn’t blame them, if the situations were reversed, she doubted she’d have enough courage to go out of her way to help.

So, she’d just sit, head on desk as time would pass.

“H-Hey! Why do you have your hand up, we told you how she was a bully, why would you want to be her partner!?”

???

Wait-

That wasn’t meant to happen.

Hesitantly, Marinette picked her head up, only to find her seatmate with an eager hand in the air.

She looked over to her face, a smile present as she glanced towards the teacher, waiting for her to say they would be paired together.

“I want to be Marinette’s partner, and I haven’t seen yet why I shouldn’t” Rosann’s head turned innocently to her classmates, she was radiating happiness as they stared in shock. A blond very much as he did want to be her partner when her name was called out, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“Marinette! Did you threaten her as well, girl you’re unbelieva-”

“I’m afraid you are being mistaken Mlle Césaire, I wouldn’t willingly make a partnership with my enemy, now Mlle Bustier you may continue if you would please” Marinette gasped, she- she’d just put a target on her back. For her! This girl was crazy…

And yet, despite her cute appearance, she hadn’t seen someone look so confident and polite.

‘Wait did I say cute-’

Even though the girl had stated her answer, it wasn’t the answer the class was looking for.

“Mlle Bustier you can’t put their names down together” Someone protested. It sounded like Lila, she was always leading the class for this sort of thing.

“Yeah, put my name down for Rosaniline instead, we know she doesn’t mean it.” That was Alya.

“But I-” She felt guilty for the new girl, she really did, she would’ve warned her how you’ll never truly be able to say your opinion without everyone interfering or as she put it, butting in.

“She doesn’t know what’s she’s gotten herself into, the poor girl” Rose spoke, if Marinette wasn’t so used to it she’d flinch from the words Rose spoke about her.

What was bad, Rosann wasn’t able to speak.

What was worse, Bustier was very much considering it.

“I guess it would be for the best” Marinette couldn’t believe it. The one person who willingly decided to pair up with her, was being ignored to be partnered up with someone else.

Not that Marinette wanted them to be with someone else mind you, but it was their decision, why wasn’t she spared a thought and have people notice that maybe they didn’t have to decide for her?

What was crueller, was that Marinette found the one person that was on her side… Was the one person who was the first to make her clamper up.

“This is ridiculous absolutely ridiculous” Of all people, it had to be her to join in?

“How extremely hypocritical of you Mlle Bustier, if I couldn’t change my partner from the last project then neither does Dupain-Cheng in this one, isn’t this school meant to teach fairness. Well, the only fair thing I see is the fairly incompetent from this class” Of course the students didn’t take kindly to her words as Bustier sighed yet again.

She knew Chloé had a point, she’d tried to persuade Chloé to have a different partner than Sabrina a few times in previous projects, it would depend on the person, if Chloé didn’t mind, she’d moan but nothing else. If it was someone she didn’t like, she’d threaten to call the mayor, most of the times she wouldn’t considering out of all the teachers even Chloé would admit she liked Bustier the most, she’d never blame her for anything and she loved that about her, but she had a point none the less.

Besides, Bustier believed that maybe Rosaniline would prove to be a very good example to her previous one, and this could be a great place to start.

“Yes Chloé, I believe I understand now, it would be highly unfair if we didn’t let Rosaniline decide for herself” Marinette couldn’t help the somewhat annoyed glance she gave to the teacher for that comment.

“But Mlle-”

“No buts Alya, now why don’t we use the idea Chloé suggested?” The class all heard the snicker from Chloé, they couldn’t believe she could stoop so low like this.

And then it carried on like it had been, but Marinette couldn’t help but let her curiosity get the better of her and as the class was carrying on, Marinette swallowed the gulp that had formed in her throat and turned to the girl next to her.

“Err- Rosaniline?” She gently tapped the girl’s shoulder, she turned and showed she was listening.

“Yes?” Oh god Mari don’t lose confidence now.

“Why, why did you do that?” With that, she saw a smirk emerge from the girl.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious, but I am rather petty since I refuse to take the word of someone else before doing my own research” Oh. Somehow that wasn’t what she was expecting, but honestly it was better than pretending to care.

“Although… I should apologise, for how abrupt I was about it” Marinette widened her eyes, why- she didn’t do anything wrong?

“I would’ve preferred asking for your consent first, but seeing the opportunity I may have taken it rather quickly” She grasped one of her braids, a nervous habit maybe, Marinette couldn’t help but notice before giving her answer.

“N-No its fine, I-I don’t mind you being my partner, not like I’ve got anyone better- I mean- I didn’t mean it like that. I just- erm, I just. I’m glad you thought about me” If Marinette had been able to look past her hair, she would’ve noticed the small blush creep up on her cheeks.

“No problem”

***

Normally, a weekend would be extremely relaxing to the young designer.

She had as much time to sleep in, plus she started a late shift anyway, her Parents were the best when it came to that, since they knew how much trouble she had getting up on a school day, they knew they couldn’t ask her to get up early for work, especially since it was their workplace.

And she had completed other homework assignments a while ago, so surely there was no reason for why she should be pacing around in the living room so early for her.

Well, it may or may not have something to do with the new girl.

She really should stop calling her new girl, she gave her her name for god’s sake.

But she just felt so nervous.

She told her Parents about this new assignment, and how she actually volunteered to be her partner, and how Marinette in the spur of a moment offered to go to her place on Saturday to start it. And she couldn’t deny when she saw the relieved expression she had when she offered. But now…

She hadn’t had someone over in years, everyone else avoided this place like the plague, the Parents still came though, and although they were slightly informed of the situation, they also just believed it was teenage drama.

Her own Parents showed their own worry, they loved their girl, and they truly didn’t want her to ever be hurt like last time ever again, but they also knew if she never gave this girl a shot, she’d never know.

Was it better to know than to ponder it forever?

That was a phrase Marinette was all too familiar with. However, it still didn’t calm her nerves.

Her Parents had told her if she didn’t want Rosaniline to be around anymore, they’d be more than happy to just so happen have an event take place right at that moment that she would have to leave, even if Marinette hoped that wouldn’t happen.

So, as she continued to pace, she was able to see from her balcony the Parisians all around, her doorway was slightly ajar so she could hear the sound of birds chirping, cars passing, and a motorcycle coming to a stop.

The noise of a motorcycle made her come to a fond thought of her Nonna. She loved her very much, and her free spirit.

Whenever she came back from one of her grand trips, she’d always get Marinette some type of fabric that always made her determined to incorporate into some type of clothing.

It was somewhat why she always stayed in the path of fashion, not just because her Parents would be disappointed in seeing her so unmotivated, but because she still liked the challenge of turning fabric into something.

She giggled, besides that thing from last week, it was the only adventurous thing she had done.

The sound of steps interrupted her as she saw her Maman, she nodded before Marinette felt a slight drop in her stomach.

She was here, she just needed to calm down, it would be fine.

She’d just smile and brace for it.

Walking down the stairs to her bakery was the same as always, she could smell the fresh bread from the oven. She always appreciated this aspect, living in a bakery always meant the aroma was lovely.

Going through the door after her Maman she braced herself to see the ne- er, Rosaniline.

What she didn’t brace for was the little girl cuddling her leg as soon as she entered.

“Hi, my names Piper, can we go to your room now?” She had to compose herself so she wouldn’t fall over with the girl in tow, but she couldn’t help internally awwing at the little kids’ appearance.

Black hair tied back in a red bow, a pink leotard with a lighter coloured tutu skirt. And a short but worn-out blue cape. And to top it all off, sparkly pink shoes faded to orange.

“O-Oh, hi there.” She gave a little wave, still completely confused.

“I’m so sorry Mari, Piper was just too excited to meet you, I’m very sorry for the shock” She saw a concerned look coming from Rosaniline. She sure did fret a lot- ah, she knew she didn’t mean it as a bad thing she just, well, she was used to being quiet and observing.

“Its fine really, but how come you brought your… Sister here?” She was unsure if the guess was right but considering the nod from the other girl, she relaxed knowing she was right. And considering she had to ignore a comment made from her Parents about a nickname she was given, she could just ignore that.

“I’m so sorry for the late notice, it’s just, something came up and I couldn’t find anyone able to take care of her. I’m really sorry for not telling you before but I- I don’t have your phone number so I couldn’t tell you. Eheh. I promise she won’t cause any trouble. Right?” The smaller girl, now back at her Sister’s side, bounced and repeated yes several times.

She looked to her Parents, almost asking them if it was alright, this whole situation caught her slightly off guard, and she momentarily forgot the question was directed at her.

Luckily her Maman was ready.

“Of course its fine, my, your Sister is such a cutie. And what’s your name sweetie?” Her Mother crouched down to make eye level. The girl puffed her chest out before standing straight up.

“My name is Piper Keyne-Hill ma’am, and I am 6 years old” She held one hand up before she looked up.

“Did I do it right?” Rosaniline smiled before bending down to her level as well.

“Do you believe that is the right answer?” Her use of that caused attention to Piper’s hand as the little one looked back, she gasped before proudly extending another finger up.

“There you go” She ruffled her hair as Marinette saw her Mother continue talking with Piper.

And yet… She felt that dread from earlier flee away, seeing Rosaniline interacting with her Sister so fondly brought heat to her cheeks and inside. She just, felt so calm around her.

And that warm smile…

She, kinda wanted her to smile like that to her…

“Marinette?” That broke her out of her trance, she looked over at her Papa who had a confused look.

“Shouldn’t you two start working on the project?”

“Huh? Oh- oh yeah, yes of course the project… Eh, Rosaniline lets go, I’ve got some kid books to keep Piper company” She didn’t mind the weight on her arm, or the way her Parents smiled at her interactions with the cherry haired girl.

She just minded how heavy her heart was pounding for some reason.

Marinette never considered her room big, she always found it spacious, it might be due to her always misplacing at least something when she’s in a rush, but she knew where it would be.

Stepping over to her desk draw, she pulls out a bunch of child books, since Nadja always did spring a babysitting job on her, she figured there was no reason to place them somewhere that would be too much of a hassle to keep getting out. So, she kept them closer.

Turning back, she saw the two looking around her room, Piper held so much excitement as Rosaniline wore a smile.

“Woooooow, it’s so pink, Rosalee what type is it?” Tugging at her Sister’s cardigan the older girl smiled.

“There are many different types, so I doubt I know the exact one… But I’d say it was a coral pink” She pattered her head as she too looked over the room, a somewhat reminiscent expression as she takes it all in.

“Mari I’m so jealous, to be able to live in a bakery with all of those magnificent smells around every day, it must be like heaven” Marinette scratched her head, ok- this was all so different, no matter how much she wanted to go back to her usual self, there was always something holding her back. Almost like, if she fell in this trap again, she’d mess it up, before she could be comfortable.

There she goes again, over thinking the situation like before.

No wonder-

“Ahh- it’s a tiger, look look” Piper’s voice brought her out of it as she saw Piper sitting in Rosaniline’s legs.

“Mmhmmn, so, Mari should we get started?” Marinette could only nod before they pulled out some books to get started.

***

‘This was easier when I had to do it on my own’ The bluenette thought, now don’t get her wrong, they weren’t arguing or anything, they just couldn’t exactly agree on a subject together.

When Rosaniline suggested gory fairy tales, she had to physically force herself not to shudder, fortunately the girl opposite her said it was a mere jest, thinking it would’ve been funny to see the teachers face when they spoke about it, but maybe it would be too much.

Rosaniline even joked that they may not have anything in common at all, that did nothing to soothe the young girls’ nerves. She just knew this might not have been the best decision, if they couldn’t find a topic, she knew Bustier would blame her for it, and if Bustier blamed her no doubt the class would as well. And it would just be one more point for them as they’d slowly but surely turn Rosaniline away from her.

It’s not like she would be disappointed or anything, it’s just, she’d rather be right now than in the future with her hopes up.

But, it didn’t help that her feelings were so mixed about this. Why was it she wanted to get to know Rosaniline?

Knock knock.

“Girls, I think you’re due a break now, don’t you?” Marinette was relieved, surely after some food they’ll be able to come up with at least one idea.

“Yes, Mlle Dupain-Cheng, that would be lovely.”

“Now stop that, you can call me Sabine, aw such a polite child you are” She blushed as she rubbed the back of her head.

“Marinette dear, mind if you help me?” Her eyes were confused, her Maman would normally never ask for help, what was so different now?

But not wanting to cause a scene she nodded and proceeded to climb down, just as Piper was moving onto a different type of picture book.

Going over to the kitchen she saw that her Mother had prepared so much food it would’ve looked like a feast, but that was how she was, whenever guests came over you could see more food on a table than a table.

She hoped Rosaniline and Piper had an appetite.

“Is everything alright dear?” She felt her Maman’s hands on her shoulders, it was always reassuring that her Parents did so much to look out for her, even when she pretended to be just fine her Parents would give her time just to be by herself if she needed it and then be there if she wanted to talk.

“Yes Maman, she’s really nice… We just haven’t figured out what topic to do yet.” She laughed nervously as her Mother couldn’t help but give a somewhat serious expression.

“You know, if you at all feel uncomfortable, we can still make up an excuse-” She shook her head.

“No Maman its fine really, if anything we’ll just keep it to the school library… She’s- I don’t know, I can’t explain it, I just feel-”

“Relaxed?” Her Mother finished the sentence for her, she nodded as Sabine thought how glad this girl was making her feel.

“Alright, well then get back up there, you don’t want her thinking you abandoned her?” She nudged her cheek as Marinette pushed her hand gently. She gave her Mum a kiss on the cheek before making her way back up to her room.

She couldn’t explain the feeling much, it was like she was feeling peaceful, a smooth tranquillity around her.

It wasn’t a feeling she had around her older friends, it always seemed like whatever they did was rushed, no time to process it. Or they didn’t let her speak.

Rosaniline did, she let her speak, she listened to her, she made her- feel.

She didn’t want that feeling to go away.

“Piper- I know you like this book, but I don’t think you should be flicking through it.”

“But why? Marilee gave me these. And they look so pretty I want one.” The little one responded, she didn’t demand, she was raised better than that.

“Well, I don’t think she meant to give you this one.” She was confused, wait what book was it?

Her heart stopped as she saw a pink cover-

That- that was her commission book!

She was rushing too much to even notice that she’d given Piper that one book.

Oh god, she was going to see her secret, that she was starting her own commission blog, that she was MDC- that she could tell everyone at Collège Françoise Dupont, and it could ruin her career. That everyone could post lies about her, making nobody trust her and demand refunds, and maybe she’d get taken in by the police- be sent to jail and never have her dream job of-

“Mari? Hey, Mari can you hear me?” She felt warm hands wrap around her own. She could feel herself look up as silver concerned eyes looked back at hers.

She felt another tug at her skirt, looking down to see Piper with her own worried expression.

“Did I make Marilee upset?” It was a simple question that pulled at her heartstrings, she felt tears prickle at her eyes for her overthinking. But she didn’t mean for Piper to be upset, or for Rosaniline to be worried either.

There she went again, overthinking every little thing that she couldn’t account for, why did she have to be this way, why did she have to be so cynical and downright negative.

“Oh no, heavens no Piper, I just- er had something in my eye, yeah. You didn’t do anything Piper, I’m glad you like the books I gave you.” Piper smile grew as she proceeded to drag Marinette over to the books again.

She seemed to be putting on an act though, from what Rosaniline could see. She was panicking over something, why? She didn’t know, she did want to find out but didn’t want to push it. She had a habit of wanting to find out answers, it wasn’t a bad thing, she remembered her Mum say, it’s just sometimes she could be just a teeny bit insensitive about it.

Looking over the scene she saw her little Sister pointing excitedly at the pages of sketched clothing, her saying how much she loved them and all the colours that she used and said how the author was so creative.

Marinette laughed along, her tears faded as she enjoyed Piper’s enthusiasm, almost making a note to definitely make her something- and for Rosaniline of course, it’ll be weird to make it for one and not the other.

And then- an idea struck.

“I know, why don’t we do it about the history of fashion?” The dark-skinned girl spoke up. She saw two heads turn towards her as she grinned. Putting her hands together near her cheeks as she spiralled in her own thoughts.

“I’ve always wanted to learn more about it, to see the transformations going through all the ages. And this could be the perfect time. So, what do you think?” It was a question that seemed as if she could reject it, but it still felt like a trick.

What if she didn’t suggest this as a solution, but for convenience for herself, since now she knew she liked fashion and would make her do all the work, it’s not like it hadn’t happened before, so why did it hurt so much to have her do it?

Did she have any right to object, wouldn’t it seem like she was being way to fussy? They already saw her sketches before, so she couldn’t deny she was a good artist. But then what if the others thought it was her idea?

That she made Rosaniline chose this subject, and get told how selfish to have done so, a disappointing gaze from Bustier, a disapproving gaze from Adrien, she felt her chest tighten up again, oh god, she was overthinking again, why did she have to be like this?

“Hey- hey Mari, we don’t have to if you don’t want… I-er saw you liked videogames; we could always do it about that if you want?” But Mari felt so disappointed in herself, she was being so accommodating to her, why, why for her? She didn’t deserve this.

“B-But Marilee’s so good at drawing, she can really really really draw. I know you can do it.” Piper enthusiastically cheered, she would’ve smiled but couldn’t, not yet, she just had to think through it.

What could she do?

“Piper, not now” Rosaniline slightly scolded, she never liked doing it honestly, but besides her Mother she had the trademark glare that told her to pack it in.

Unfortunately, Piper never did look at her while she was in such an energetic mood.

What could she do?

“Rosalee she’s amazing, she’s the best in the world. Don’t do it about stupid video games.” She tried persuading her Sister to see some sense, in the short time that she had known Marilee, she was pretty much enarmed with her, she found another Sister that needed a confidence boost.

What. Could. She. Do!?

“Piper!- Look, sometimes not everyone wants to show their skills to other people, and we have to respect that, ok?” She crouched down to her level, kids felt less intimidated when you weren’t so tall, besides, Piper didn’t mean anything by it, she was always told to follow her heart, and if she was proud of something, she should show it off for the whole world to see.

What could-

Wait?

Could someone really be so accommodating? Could it really be true? Could all of this be true?

“Aww… Ok Rosalee, sorry Marilee” Piper hugged Marinette’s leg, and even though it felt like she was getting told off, she knew she wasn’t in real trouble.

Or was it a persona?

“I’ll do it.”

If this was a plan, a plan to make her do all the work, then she’ll go along with it. It felt so mean, so immature, so senseless that she still wasn’t trusting her, but she didn’t want to turn Rosaniline away without any evidence, besides, if this was all a trick, then surely it was better this way, she would’ve foreseen it and everything would go back to normal, she’d go off to join the class while she’d be alone once more, maybe they’ll have passing glances and memories of what could’ve been but she wouldn’t leave her here open and out to be in such a vulnerable position.

Not just for her, but for both, she didn’t know what would happen after another heartbreak.

“Huh?”

“I- I don’t mind if we do it about fashion, I mean, only if you want to, I don’t mind teaching you about it, I-I even had some books stored just for this, so I guess its lucky right” A nervous laughter evolved as she looked at anywhere but her.

However, the cherry haired girl wasn’t as convinced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I guess little Piper just convinced me.” The little girl fist pumped to herself before running along back to her books before the bluenette felt soft hands on her shoulders.

“As long as you want to as well, I… Wouldn’t want to force you or anything” Quick, she had to ease the tension.

“-Psst- Don’t worry so much Rosaniline, c’mon I’ll see where I put those books, also how far do you wanna go back, if we go too far, we might not be able to cover everything. But if we go to a few years back our presentation would just be too small. Maybe we can just go halfway. That reminds me maybe we could have a physical element, I could throw together some pieces of old works together and show them of as we talk- or” Her shoulders were gently grabbed again as she looked at the close proximity she was in, it made her blush just a tad more than she thought she ever could.

“Maybe we could discuss that, over something to eat?” She quickly looked down and remembered the food on the ground, no doubt cold now. She felt guilt come in before seeing her passionate smile.

“Sorry, I just saw how passionate you were about this, I couldn’t bear to stop you, but then I got worried if you’d run out of air, Eheh. Think we can heat the food up?” She nodded, maybe it might be better to eat downstairs after all, now that Marinette knew what topic she- they were doing, they could crack on and complete it earlier than the deadline.

She’d have to get Rosaniline’s phone number of course, just in case they needed to discuss other things but that could wait.

Of course, it could wait.

She was just so happy in that moment, she- she may have really wanted to try and be her friend.

And maybe-

No- she just wanted to continue to be near her, to hold her hand when she’s upset, to help her when she’s had a bad day.

To be… Closer to her, to that warmth.

… Was it selfish of her to want to be near that warmth for longer?

***

Night had fallen upon Paris, but the lone girl on her balcony didn’t mind at all.

Ever since that day, a part of her wished something else would happen.

No- she didn’t want the hero to be hurt again, that’s by far too sadistic to even think about… But she was really excited by all of those events, when she was able to get a breather, there was a rush of adrenaline throwing through her veins, and even if she did want something else to happen, she’d prefer to be out here just to see if she could get a glimpse of the hero again.

It had been a week since it happened, and Marinette could only guess she must have been resting from her… Fight? Was that the right word? Oh well, she must’ve been resting since she hadn’t heard anything about her from the news for a while, she could only hope her wound would heal by professionals instead of her shoddy work. But- she had to realise that she had to hope for the hero’s survival.

For Soliane Rin’s survival.

… She may have read a bit more into her- but it was only out of curiosity, she wasn’t going to gain another obsessive crush over someone famous again, nope, nada, she wasn’t going to fall for those really amazing silver eyes the press had made sure to call grey, but she was sure they were silver.

Wait, no it wasn’t like she looked at them for particularly long or anything, she definitely didn’t get lost in them, she saw a poster of them! Ah- this wasn’t helping. She needed to change the subject immediately!

Clang.

She jumped up instantly, her commissions book that was resting on her lap was now flying through the air! Oh no, she was going to lose everything, crap! Her designs!

A figure, however, flew up to catch them before landing in front of the startled girl.

“I believe these books were trying to plan their escape from you mi Belle” It was her; it really was her! She was-

“You’re alright” Her happiness took over her before she could even register that she had leapt into the arms of the hero of Paris.

She was going to regret this so much.

With her cheeks rosying so much, she jumped back until she fell back onto her chair, apology after apology escaping the girl not daring to look at her face.

‘How embarrassing, how inappropriate, how childish. Why did she have to make a fool out of herself now? In front of the new hero no less? Again!’

“There’s no need for any embarrassment, I was unaware I’d caused you such panic over my recovery, if I’d known you were worried, I would’ve visited a lot sooner.” Ah- she was always so formal with her choice of words. It was great, she was great- wait what?

“But I- didn’t realise you’d wish to see me after my blunder from last time.” That made her perk up, what… What was she talking about?

Soliane’s gaze seemed to be fixated on the ground as she looked so- so frustrated with herself. Why?

“To have failed on the first day as a hero, to have troubled a civilian with help. I can’t thank you enough to have woken you at such a godly hour just for my sake” She bowed her head forward as Marinette couldn’t help but try to make her stop.

“It’s nothing really, I mean I’m sure anyone else would help out a hero like you. I-I mean maybe not everyone else since there are some bad people but I’m sure most will. Not that you don’t need it, I mean you do- don’t I- I’m sorry I’m rambling again” Soliane Rin didn’t appear to hear her as she carried on with her tirade.

“But to not even know who it was that harmed me. I-I don’t deserve to have my title as a hero.” Why? Why was she saying this? She- no she couldn’t be serious.

But that look made it all the more real, she’d seen it so much. Every time she ever looked in the mirror after crying for so long, regret, disappointment, anything and everything negative flashed through her mind and she could tell, see everything, all of it.

And knew it broke her, would break her.

Marinette knew she didn’t have any powers.

She couldn’t shoot lasers from her eyes.

She couldn’t fly.

She couldn’t control objects through her mind.

But- how Mother always said she had a talent for one thing.

Empathy.

She could be so understanding when her mind was so calm, when she wasn’t worrying about what others were thinking of her, when she could see, truly see inside their heart, all of their feelings out on display, and helping them, by being there for them.

For knowing exactly what to say…

It- may not always work, but no superhero comes out of every battle unscathed.

“Please stop” She looked up, but it was still such a pitying look. She could see through her smile, but it felt as if she wasn’t even trying to hide it, like there was no use concealing it.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for a mistake like that, it’s not fair to you- or to me. Yes, I was scared when I saw you injured, but I’m so glad that you’re here now. You’re still standing. You still want to continue even when you were hurt. I’ve seen just how strong you are, how confident you can be when the world tried to throw its worse at you.” She stepped closer to her, having gotten up from her fallen position.

“So please don’t give up for one mistake,”

She stepped closer…

“Don’t give up when I know you have the strength in you to persist.” She wrapped her arms around her again, and this time she wasn’t so embarrassed about doing it.

She was crying…

She tried to use those words for someone else.

It hadn’t worked… So, she had to believe in anything and everything for it to succeed now, for her.

“You risk your life every day, and yet you never ask for anything. I want to thank you for all that you’ve done, on behalf of Paris, no, the whole world. You’re a real hero Soliane Rin. Please don’t doubt that.” She hugged a bit tighter; she hadn’t meant to get so emotional on her, but maybe that emotion wasn’t just for her.

It was silent.

Too silent.

Marinette had to hold her breath in anticipation, did- did she go too far? Did she overstep her boundaries again? Did she-

“Ah I see. Thank you, I-I mean, I appreciate your gratitude Marinette” When she looked back, she could see her cheeks were red, she could see her silver eyes look back at her before seeing her own cheeks reddening as well- wait, she was so close! Again!

She jumped back again, not falling this time, thanking the heavens that she wasn’t making a fool out herself as much as usual.

“I must commend your stubbornness my dear. I- I hadn’t imagined you’d have a positive opinion of me after that, I must apologise for making such a rash assumption about you, and for- eh snapping me out of that. I’m thankful to have met such a kind and respectable hero like you.” She bowed her head again as Marinette had to comprehend what had just happened.

It felt awkward, Soliane Rin was blushing a lot, Marinette was blushing like crazy as well.

“Me a hero, what no way. You’re just joking, don’t tell me you hit your head too?” She waved her hands in front of her. She recalled how clumsy she was, how often she’d trip on the stairs to Collège or even when she dropped her tray of pastries on the floor, that one was particularly embarrassing.

However, she was too late to see that Soliane had stopped her smile as Marinette began to panic again.

“No! I didn’t mean hit your head I meant did you crack it- no check it- no I mean, how can I ever be a hero to anything, I’m just me, Marinette. I don’t have any superpowers or anything I’m just an ordinary girl ehehehe” She felt her hand taken by the hero again, her heart stopping for a moment before jumping to x2, she couldn’t believe she was holding her hand again.

“Just because I wear a mask and costume doesn’t make me a hero. It’s my ideals and thoughts for the people. Marinette, you may not have powers, or a hero name. But you can be a hero still. After all, All that is needed for the prevail of malevolence is that individuals concede defeat.” Marinette was shocked, she just- wow, that was cool. And… So sweet. To say that, about anyone, about her. Even if she didn’t fully believe it at first, she’d be sure to keep those words very close to her heart.

The bluenette smiled back, before they both looked over her balcony and over Paris, they share a moment just looking out, the silence was comforting to them as some time passed.

There was a question that may have crossed her mind at one point, she felt guilty for taking so much time out of her day- night- schedule? Oh well, she had to ask just one little thing.

Marinette fiddling with her fingers, she took a deep breath.

“S-So do you have to do a patrol or-” Soliane looked up surprised before checking something around her wrist, she laughed nervously before turning back.

“Huh- oh yes, unfortunately I won’t be able to stay longer, however it would be even more unbefitting of me to avoid my job any further” She wanted to deny what she said was true, but saw her giggle so slightly, knowing it was a small joke, she lightened up as Soliane Rin bows again and flies off from her balcony railings bidding her adieu.

With her hand resting where her heart was beating, faster than usual, faster then whenever she was late for class. Faster than-

Oh no.

No no no! Not again, how did she not realise it sooner?

How!?

This familiar feeling.

Why did it come back?

And why did she want it to stay!?

***

I hope you enjoyed it.

Anyway, I’m willing to take a bunch off prompts for Rosann and Mari on date nights/doing couple things, whether you want some added salt from the class is up to each requester, I may turn a few away if I either feel uncomfortable or simply not able to write it, these prompts will come out randomly, I have no structure to anything. To submit, I’ll allow for the idea to be within any time frame, i.e. when they first meet, to being friends, to being a couple. I do love angst although I’ll be unsure how to make it work when it should be a ton off fluff stuff. If you have any questions don’t feel afraid to ask, I might have to clarify some points. I’ll be ordering the prompts, and stating when they come in the main story, what you would’ve need to have read before, if it contained any spoilers for certain chapters and any trigger warnings, although you may need to state what might be triggering as sometimes, I too get confused on what I need to state, if anyone can do that then that’s alright.)

Even though I like a Saltinette, sometimes I still wanna see a different perspective of her, an anxious, guilt-ridden, cautious, mess like this version. I just think it’ll be interesting to basically rewrite Marinette’s character. Instead of this sassy overconfident one in most fanfic’s I’ve now changed the status quo. Haha.

And I believe I’ve taken a somewhat realistic approach to Marinette trying to trust someone else, I didn’t want to just rush into it. However, I do think it’s a bit different with Soliane Rin because she is a hero, and I think Marinette could trust her a lot easier than Rosaniline.

Also did you know that Majestia’s quote was a straight rip off of Edmund Burke’s?

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.

Yeah...

Cya next time.

Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker. They also may change in the future because I can never stop adding stuff.

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bucketofcowboys · 4 years ago

Text

Just A Whisper Away

This fic is based on the interaction between Majima and Saki at the end of her substory in Y0... I just read that line and couldn't get it out of my name for so long! I just had to write this! I hope you enjoy this super fluffy-friends-catching-up fic that no one asked for :)

Relationship: Saki (Yakuza) & Goro Majima, Implied Goro Majima/Kazuma Kiryu

Fandom: Yakuza (specifically 0)

Warning: Canon Typical Violence, but it’s just fluff

Words: 3,869

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074707

Saki's mind always seemed to wander whenever she walked to work in the morning. Not many people walked around the Sotenbori streets this early in the morning, so most of the time her waypath was empty and quite peaceful. It gave her enough silence to live out old reminders of times past. Each block seemed to have its own special memory tied to it. Some silly, some sad, some dreadful... some she looked back on fondly and some she wished never happened. The city weaved together to create a place where every street had a story.

So, her morning walks to the office were her favorite part of her day. She just strolls around the early morning cityscape and relives memories with a special fondness. Her favorite street to walk down was definitely Sochofuku street. Though the alleyways that twisted and turned into the old Sunshine cabaret club had been cut off, passing by the new Club Four Shine still gave her nostalgia. Sometimes she would say hi to Yuki, but oftentimes she wouldn't be there in the morning. Their scene was more late night, and Saki was quite too busy for that nowadays. She visited whenever she could.

Passing by the club always made her think about her time working at a hostess at Sunshine. She was fortunate that Majima took her in when he did and took her away from the abusive situation at her old club. The year she spent there was put in the box of fond memories in the back of her mind.

This morning she was brought back to that evening after her last training with Majima. As she snuggled into her warm fuzzy coat to brace herself against the cold winter wind, she remembered how she rushed out of the club to make it to a meeting that decided the entirety of her future. How she ran into the wrong person, how everything was almost taken away because she refused to ask for help. How Majima came to the rescue. Saved her life.

"Majima-san... you taught me that sometimes it's okay to ask for help... so if I ever find myself in another hopeless mess... will you help me?"

She carried the burden of everything on her shoulders back then. Her family deepened on her for money, she was saving up to go to nursing school, and she couldn't just be a hostess without putting forth her best effort. She thought that everything had to be on her because she didn't want to burden anyone else...

He smiled at her.

"Sure thing. You just whisper my name, and I'll be there. Bam."

She smiled up towards the gray winter sky. She never actually got to thank him for everything he did for her before he left... It was just one day he was there and the next he wasn't. She would be lying if she said she wasn't heartbroken when he left. All the girls were. Even Youda was upset.

Saki's mind was too busy being stuck in the past to notice that a man was walking towards her on the street. Before she could catch up with reality, she knocked into his shoulder. The man stumbled and barely kept himself from falling to the ground. She quickly turned towards the man and gasped.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention! I'm really sorry!" She clasped her hand over her mouth to try and cover her embarrassment. The man looked mostly unscathed from what she saw, but he turned to her and anger could be seen clearly on his features.

"What the hell! Watch where yer goin' dumbass!" The brash man sneered. She frowned.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I really didn't mean to..." She tugged her sleeve back and checked the watch on her wrist. She read the time and it said 7:27. Shit... she couldn't be late today, she had an urgent patient to take care of that morning. "Have a nice day, sir! Again, I'm very sorry!"

She turned away to continue on her walk to work, but was quickly stopped when the man grabbed the back hood of her coat and tugged her back towards him.

"Ya think sorry is gonna cut it, bitch? Do ya know who I am?!" He grabbed her by the shoulders firmly and she struggled against his hold.

"I'm sorry but I have to go!" She shoved the man off of her, but he grabbed a hold of her arm and held her in place.

"You ain't goin' nowhere!" He threw her into the nearest alleyway. She scraped her knees on the biting cold concrete and knocked her head against the brick wall behind her. Pain began to bloom from her injuries and adrenaline ran through her blood, hot.

She hadn't fought someone in years. Ever since Majima scolded her for her recklessness... she stayed out of fights. She tried to focus on her future and stayed away from trouble. Its not that she didn't believe in her abilities... but she was significantly weaker than she was before.

"Get away from me!" She screamed, holding her arms up to protect herself from any further attacks.

"You think ya can just disrespect me like that and get away with it?"

"I didn't do anything! Help!" She called desperately. The only response to her cry for help was her own echo bouncing on the walls of the alleyway.

She flinched when she saw the gleam of something sharp catch her eye. That's when she really began to struggle hard against the man's efforts. She kicked at his legs with as much effort as she could, but he grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her head against the wall. Bobby pins fell from her previously neat bun, and her vision began to go spotty and black around the edges.

She felt dizzy and nauseous and her head pounded in time with her racing pulse. The situation brought her back to the memory she was reminiscing on mere minutes ago. She was sure she would be in this exact situation if Majima hadn't come to the rescue. But now... Majima wasn't here. Hadn't been here for a while. She was strong, but she wasn't strong enough to fight against an armed man.

"...just whisper my name..."

The only thing she could think of was that phrase playing over and over in her head. She knew it was meant to be a passing reassurance, a small joke meant to never be thought of again... but now it seemed like a lifeline.

"M-Majima..." She breathed out so quiet she could barely hear herself say it. She almost felt embarrassed at how helpless she felt. She promised him long ago that she would ask for help when she needed it... and she needed it desperately now.

"Speak up, princess! Got somethin' to say?"

"Majima-San!" She screamed out, calling his name in hopes that maybe, somehow, he would hear her cries. That maybe, by some miracle, he would come and save her. That he would keep his promise from so long ago.

"Huh? Majima-Han? That your boyfriend or somethin'? Go ahead bitch, cry. Ain't nobody comin'!" Her attacker laughed as if he had said something funny. He then raised his dagger, ready to strike. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered herself with her arms. She braced for the sharp bite of metal. But, after a few moments of waiting, she didn't feel it.

Instead she heard the sound of metal clattering to the ground and a sharp gasp of pain coming from her attacker. Her eyes shot open and when she looked up she could barely believe it.

It was him.

She had to do a double take just to see if she was imagining it or not. Everything about him was different. His long, neat, tied up hair was now short, his sunken in look had been replaced with a more plump healthy glow, and his beautifully tailored tux had been scrapped for a tacky snakeskin jacket. But that eyepatch and the angry twitch of his bowed lips was enough for her to know that this was her Majima.

"Yo..." His voice rung out deep-- which was never a good sign. Majima only ever spoke that way when he was really mad. It was rare for anyone to hear him talk like that in the cabaret club. The only time she ever heard him talk like that was when dealing with particularly rude customers... or when he protected her all those years ago. "What the hell do ya think you're doing?"

He stood tall behind her attacker, his gloved hand in a vice like grip around his wrist. The man hissed in pain and tried to pull out of his hold.

"What the fuck, man! Step off!" He yelled as he struggled to pull away. He used his other hand to throw a punch in Majima's direction, but he quickly ducked his head out of the way before it could collide. He twisted the man's arm behind his back painfully and he squealed like a pig. He shoved him face first into the wall opposite of where Saki still sat on the floor. His face scratched against the rough concrete and a groan left the man.

"Sorry, ya rat bastard, but I don't let people get away with hurting my friends like that. Ya understand?" He growled into the perpetrator's ear like he was spitting venom. He shoved him harder against the wall and earned himself a cry in response.

"Majima-San..." Saki whispered in disbelief. She was half convinced that the man had knocked her out and she was now in the middle of a head trauma induced coma. He glanced back at her with his good eye and offered her a friendly smile. It contradicted the raged one he wore speaking to her attacker.

He pulled the man from the wall and held him up in front of Saki.

"Now... you're gonna apologize to this lovely lady... or I'll break your bones... ya understand!?" The man nodded quickly, sniffling back a tear before stuttering out.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me!" He cried out. Majima let out a pleased hum at his apology. He hesitated for a moment before loosening his grip on the man. The man took the opportunity to run as soon as he could. But before he could get only a few steps away, Majima punched him so hard in the jaw that he hit his head on the nearby wall and blacked on on the concrete.

Majima stepped over to the newly unconscious man and nudged him with his foot. He seemed to be completely knocked out cold. Majima sighed.

"Ya get what ya deserve, asshole." He turned back towards the, still very stunned, Saki. That familiar, warm smile came to his lips and he stepped towards her. "Ya alright?"

He offered his hand out to her, and she quickly took it. He hauled her up to her feet and brushed some grime from the ground off of her winter coat.

"I..." Words were lost from her. She didn't know what to say... She hadn't seen Majima for years, and then all of a sudden there he is. What was she meant to say? "I didn't think you would come." She admitted.

"Good thing I was in the neighborhood then, yeah?" He chuckled softly. She just stared up at him in disbelief. After a long moment of uncomfortable silence, Majima spoke once again. "Ya alright? He didn't knock ya up too badly did he?"

He reached forwards and gently pressed a gloved finger to a slowly forming bruise near her hairline. She hissed in pain, and reached up to gently push his hand away.

"I'll be fine... just a few bumps and bruises..." Nothing she couldn't fix herself.

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure!" She pouted up at him. Their bickering reminded him so much of the old days back at the club.

She still was trying to process the fact that Majima Goro, Lord of the Night, and the man that saved her life--not once now, but twice, was standing right in front of her. Finally her confused face cracked into a smile. A bright smile filled with the joy of memories past and an old friend brought back from the dead.

"You big lug, I can't believe you actually came!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "It's been too long, Majima-San..."

An awkward beat of silence passed between them where Majima just stood still without much reaction, but eventually the man warmed up to it. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and squeezed her just hard enough to know that he missed her too. Eventually the two old friends fell apart and Saki smiled up at him.

"Where ya goin'? I can walk ya there so ya don't get fucked over by another brute." He offered with a nonchalant shrug.

"I'm heading to work right now. It's not too far from here." He perked up at that.

"Where do ya work? Not another cabaret club, I hope. Been a severe lack of good ones in Sotenbori since the 80s..." She began her slow pace back to the office, and Majima followed close by her side. For some reason, the fact that she was definitely going to be late didn't bother her anymore. She needed to catch up with him.

"I work at the hospital," She answered and got a surprised face from Majima. She snickered, "After you left, I went to nursing school, got my degree, and the rest is history..."

"Ya really did take my advice then?"

"Of course!" He gave her a look that could only be compared to that of a proud father looking at a succeeding daughter. Sometimes she forgets that Majima is almost the same age as her. He always acted like a concerned older brother, so she always imagined him as being years above her in age. Really there was only about a two year gap between them.

There was a pause where the two just walked down the cold Sotenbori street in silence. Saki kicked her tennis shoes on the ground before looking back up at him.

"What about you, Majima-San?"

"Haw?"

"You kinda just up and left one day without a word... I want to know what you've been up to!"

"Oh..." he paused for a moment and looked off into the distance, as if he was thinking. Probably trying to figure out what holes he can put in his story and get away with without her noticing.

She knows he's yakuza, she knew since the 80s. Though a tux can cover up an irezumi, it can't cover years worth of wear and tear on the soul and an eyepatch she still never got the story behind. She was sure everyone at Sunshine knew he was yakuza, they just kept quiet about it. It was so odd to imagine the kind and quiet Majima being a brash and unforgiving crime boss. But, when she and the girls saw him fight, there was no question. Even less of a question now that his irezumi peaked past his snakeskin.

She distantly wondered if he was freezing just wearing that, but he didn't seem to be reacting to the cold winds that brushed by.

She allowed him a moment to construct the PG rated version of his life in the past 20 years, and then he finally spoke.

"Not much, honestly. Left Sotenbori and started livin' in Kamurocho..." he rubbed at the buzzed off hair on the back of his head... she kinda missed the long hair. He did still look dashing, even if it was short.

"Open up any new cabaret clubs?" He shook his head.

"Nah. I did open up a construction company though."

"Really?" She couldn't imagine Majima at a construction site... but at the same time she could. It was odd. It's like there were two sides to Majima's coin. One a more kind-hearted and soft side and the other brash and hard. "I never knew you could build things, Majima-San..."

She remembered a time when Majima had to order a new vanity for Yuki after an incident involving a live wire and a spilt drink... she doesn't think Majima or Youda ever did manage to finish building that vanity... Spare pieces of wood and screws were strewn across the back room for months, and late at night before going home she could hear Majima cussing out the instructions. So she couldn't imagine him actually being able to build things.

"I don't build, that's my team's job." That made more sense.

"Then what do you do?" He froze for a moment.

"Uhh... managin'. Stuff like that."

"I see." She had to stifle a giggle.

She took a turn down the wrong alleyway, but she didn't stop and turn back. Neither did Majima. He followed blindly as she led him in circles around the block instead of actually heading towards her destination.

"Do you have a family now, Majima? Are you married?"

"Nah, not really my thing."

"A significant other?" She noticed that he froze up at that question. A smirk came to her lips.

"I-I guess? I don't know. It's complicated with him..."

"Ooooh, so it's a him? What's he like?" She asked, becoming increasingly eager to continue this line of questioning. She took another wrong turn, but this time he grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her back onto the right path.

"Wrong way, busy bee. Ya don't wanna be late for work, do ya?" She pouted.

"Don't make excuses, tell me about him!" He let out a long sigh and glanced upwards towards the sky. It was almost as if he was asking whatever God there was for mercy.

"...I've known him for a while now. I met him as soon as I came to Kamurocho." He finally began talking, she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling too hard as he explained his love story. "We... didn't exactly start off as friends but now I think we're pretty close."

She watched as he fidgeted with the seam of his gloves. She had never seen him act so shyly before. He must really like this man.

"Do you love him?" She asked, and he quickly jumped back in surprise.

"Hey! You don't just ask someone that!" He scolded, his Kansai accent exaggerating each word. He threw his hands up in faux rage and she giggled.

"Sorry, sorry." She apologized between smiles that hurt her cheeks. After a beat of silence she added, "So... do you love him?"

"Sakiii..." he whined, but this time she didn't back off. She looked up at him expectantly and he sighed.

"I-I... yeah... I love him." He finally admitted. She could see the flush on his high cheekbones. Cute.

She shot him a grin, but spared him from any more of her torturous questioning about this mystery man that had Majima's heart in his hand. Though, she did wonder what this man was like... during their training they spoke about women Majima was into, but never men. Maybe he was into tall dark and handsome guys? Or more of the femenine types? Maybe even big soft types? Probably one who could cook. He always said that a meal was a way to a man's heart.

"What about you? You got anyone?" He asked.

"Yeah... I got someone." She smiled fondly into the distance as she had a moment of recollection.

She had met him a few years back. He worked at a Takoyaki shop she frequented, and one day he sat down and spoke with her on his break. They hit it off right away and the rest was history.

"I actually just got hitched last year! You see?" She held up her hand and showed off the gold and diamond encrusted wedding ring that sat perfectly on her finger. He leaned forwards and turned his head so it was in the view of his good eye.

"Ooooh, looks pretty. I guess he didn't skimp out on ya did he? Suppose that makes him a keeper, yeah?" She nodded along.

"Yeah... I think he's a keeper."

Their walking slowed and eventually stopped when they finally made it to the front of the hospital. Saki stared up at the building for a moment. All the desire she usually had to work had been sapped out of her, and all she really wanted to do was walk around town and talk to her old friend. But, work was still more important than that. She sighed softly before turning to face Majima.

"This is the place. Thank you for walking with me, Majima-San." She thanked him with a short bow.

"Of course. I couldn't just let ya walk alone after an attack like that." Her head was still throbbing, and the bruises on her were beginning to settle into a dull ache, but she would be fine. She would be in worse shape if Majima hadn't been there.

"Well... it was good seein' ya again, Saki-Chan." She nodded in agreement. He turned to leave after that.

Saki couldn't help but feel an overwhelming feeling of dread as he left. He would walk away and into the shadows and then poof! He's gone forever. Never to be seen again. Like dust blown away in the wind. A ghost only remembered in stories and whispers of the past... she didn't want him to be a ghost.

"Majima-San!" She called after him before that snakeskin jacket could faze out of sight. He turned back to look at her, and she had to cup her hands around her mouth to speak loud enough for him to hear. "Don't be a stranger! We miss you!"

She could see the flash of his smile, even with the distance. He cupped his hands around his mouth as well and shouted back.

"Just a whisper away, Saki!" His voice echoed against the alleyway walls, and he spared a small wave before turning away again.

This time, as he turned a corner and left her vision, that dread was gone. He didn't have to be a ghost, or an old memory, or dust. She would see him again. She was sure of that. 'When?' was a question that could only be answered with, 'eventually'. And she would wait until that eventually.

For now, though, she turned towards the door of her office building and stared at the blue painted Kanji on the door. She sucked in a deep breath, and pushed it open. Sure, she was going to get scolded for being late and fretted about because of the bruises on her face, but she didn't mind. She had almost forgotten that she was even attacked. She was on cloud nine after seeing her old friend again.

During her lunch break for the day, she immediately got on her phone and made a call.

"Hello?" Yuki's voice came through the receiver. Saki couldn't help but smile brightly when she heard her speak.

"Yuki-- you won't believe who I just saw!"

#saki (yakuza)#goro majima #yuki (yakuza)#kazuma kiryu #yakuza #yakuza 0 #yakuza 0 cabaret club #cabaret club #club four shine #club sunshine #y0 #my fic #my writing #my fanfiction #non-romantic relationship #implied kazumaji #mentioned kazumaji #fluff

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eleanorbloom · 4 years ago

Text

Special Thanks (When You're Ready Edition)

I cannot end this series without thanking each and every one of you for your support. All the things Elle and Bryce said in the toast, make them mine too. Thank you for your support in all these months. Whether it was reading, commenting, reblogging, inspiring me, helping me find the motivation to write, etc. And above all, thank you for your patience. Patience for all the time it took me to finish this series and patience for all the mistakes I made.

As you all know, English is not my first language, this was my first fic writing in a second language and was such a challenge. So thank you for giving me the opportunity despite the mess the first chapters were. Hopefully, and with a lot of practice, my English started improving hehe

Your support meant the world to me. As much as I loved writing this series, because it was a way to explore and understand my own feelings (because I, as Eleanor, was trapped between Ethan and Bryce), I cannot lie there were times where I wanted to drop everything and stop complicating my life with this. But thanks to your support and motivation I kept going until I finished this. This is such an accomplishment for me, you have no idea 😭

When I started preparing this post, I looked for the original doc where I saved the first ideas for that fic, and I found out it was in May. So I've been working on this project for a year!!!

And how did I come up with this? Actually, from another fic idea lol Mid April I started indulging the idea of writing my first fanfic because, oh, woow, I was obsessedwith Ethan and my love for him had reached that point where I wanted to write. So I started writing a fic where Bryce helped Eleanor to make Ethan jealous by spending a lot of time together and sharing pics on Instagram (all that after Eleanor helped him create his Instagram account in the Gwyneth chapter). But, wow, I had the brilliant idea of writing something like, "Hope he realizes what he's missing because I know I can win your heart if I put my mind on it". And, oh, damn, I felt SO SO SO BAD FOR BRYCE. Because that line implied he had feelings for Eleanor (which I hadn't considered at that moment, that line simply flowed with me) and honestly I just couldn't resist it. I couldn't resist that he had to see the woman he had feelings for, being in love with someone who wasn't valuing her at that moment. So then I had the idea of writing a fic where Bryce proposed to her to win her heart at night in a nice surrounding after a cute date, and BUM that's how When You're Ready was born. Of course, I never finished that jealous fic because I became too invested in WYR and when I tried, I wasn't as interested in Ethan as before. So, yeah, from an Ethan fic, when I wasn't even in love with Bryce, just a bit torn, I ended up writing this series. But I knew from the start Bryce would be endgame because that boy deserves the world, and because I was tired that MC in most of the fics out there, they ended up choosing Ethan instead of Bryce. I just couldn't do it! Though I NEVER imagined I would end up this in love with him 🥺🥺🥺Maybe it was meant to be, just like Eleanor wondered, that I would fall in love with Bryce. This is the best thing that has happened to me in a long time 🥰

Well, now I want to give some special thanks, to some people that have been incredibly important in this process.

First, to Kao, one of the first people that read my fic and that stayed till the end with me. I always say this, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart: Thank you for your constant support and always taking the time to leave a comment, even in moments when it was hard for you. I know it was especially difficult in some moments when there was huge Ethan content and all you wanted was Eleanor to choose Bryce 😂 So thank you for sticking with my story!!! I know I kinda broke your heart a couple of times, so, I'm sorry and I hope the ending was cute enough to mend it 😅

Dom! You've been since the beginning with me too! Thank you for giving me the chance despite the mess those first chapters were, and sharing your own feelings about it, since you have feelings for both of them and you could understand the conflict very deeply. And thank you for inspiring me with your works to write all the Ethan angst. FATL was a huge source to write the saddest moments with Ethan 😟

Rome, my darling, your comments always make me laugh and cry, they’re so funny and expressive, but also so emotional, like, sometimes I feel like you’re reading something else but not my works, how they made you feel that way?? Thank you for your support and hype. For including my babies in your big project Baking Love, and simply for being there for me 😊 I love youuu!!

Conch! Thank you for all your support since the moment you started reading my series, for all the hype, inspo and just being my friend! Your support has been so important for me in all this process! I love you 3000 ❤️

Kaly! You joined just recently, well, like a-couple-of-months-ago recently, but I wanna thank you for your support since then and for sharing your insights and support with me! Knowing you wanna keep reading about my babies makes me soooo happy. I hope I can keep indulging you with that 😊

Petra, my darling, thanks for your support and all the effort you put into writing your comments since you joined me on this crazy ride. Thanks for supporting me with every idea and reading my little 'behind the scenes' while I was rereading WYR. It makes me so happy you sided with Bryce even if you're crazy in love with Ethan 😂 I think I did my work well hahaha

Nikka 💖 if you read this, know that I'll be forever thankful for your support and the massive comments you left, and all the emotions you poured in every chapter. Honestly, your words were such a light in the darkest moments of my writing process, and I'll always remember you fondly for that. Thank you for your kindness and love ❤️

Ruby ❤️ your support in the first half of the series will always mean the world to me ❤️ Thank you for giving me the chance and supporting all my works 😊(And sorry for breaking your heart ☹️) Your writing was such a huge inspiration to me!!

And well, thanks to whoever liked, commented, and reblogged my works. And all the silent readers too! Hope you enjoyed this series and you're free to leave messages or anons to share your thoughts if you still wanna remain as a silent reader hahaha I just want to know what are your thoughts now that we have reached the end.

I know this was long, but having your support during this long process means too much to not express my gratitude with a super cheesy and sappy post (Eleanor obviously got that from me, I think there's no surprise there 😂)

Sending each and every one of you a big hug (if you like hugs, lol) and my eternal gratitude for all the support given ❤️

Dani.

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yelenasdog · 4 years ago

Text

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝟏

♰ 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔱

genre: fluff

summary: new school, new faces. or maybe not? part one to a series explaining the pictures of my college au moodboard “new faces”.

words: 2k

warnings: pining, cursing, kissing, lots of inaccuracies to the show, that’s all i can think of.

a/n: i haven’t done anything for cm in quite some time but i got this random poof of inspo so here take it LMAO roger fic coming really soon.

♀♀♀

It was their first kiss. First date, actually.

Emily was a senior at Georgetown, having just transferred from University of Pittsburgh for her last year. Both schools were an odd choice for the young woman, the former proving to be the wrong fit, as it turned out. It angered her mother that she had been transferring so close to graduation, and frankly Emily could care less, but for some reason, she felt her skin itch at any thought of staying at that horrid place just a semester longer.

She wasn’t quite sure as to why. Her questions might have been answered, though, her first day on the new campus.

The fall air was chilly and crisp, her nose running ever so slightly as she would pull her burgundy jacket tighter around herself in a desperate grab at warmth, it all to no avail. She kept trying, though, pulling the tie around her waist so tight that it felt as if she was in a corset.

(Not that she would know, she’d refused to ever get near one. The whole idea of them scared her.)

She watched the colorful leaves crunch under her boots, enjoying the sound and feeling a great deal, the texture reminding her fondly of moments from her youth, the few fond ones she had, anyway. She smiled softly, looking up to see the leaves swirl around a familiar looking blonde head of hair.

A few of the leaves got stuck in the hay colored (now) mess, and she only smiled at it, reaching up a gentle hand to pick them out. She grinned down at them and bit her pink lips, watching as they dropped to the cobblestone from her hand. She continued on with a pep in her step, and to put it lightly, Emily was infatuated.

She thought about the blue eyed beauty for the rest of the day, her elegance, her lips that somehow weren’t chapped in the horribly cold weather (which not that Emily knew yet, but was because of the cinnamon peppermint chapstick that the mystery girl kept in her right pocket), and her aura, so to say, as a whole. The voice in her head told her to simmer down, that it was unrealistic that someone as seemingly bright and sunny would even think about spending a flicker of precious time with someone like her. Emily should have been more confident, as she would learn, as mystery girl had been thinking of her, too.

Yes, Jennifer Jareau was thinking of the unknown girl with the wonderfully long eyelashes, and the shiny dark hair that was similar to the shade of black that graced the feather of the crows she would see down by the pond she passed on her morning runs. Her mind was otherwise occupied from all normal affairs, consumed by thoughts of her ripped and pale lips that the enticing other woman darted her tongue across mere seconds after the last time she had, every single time.

Jennifer had wished to tell the girl that licking her lips only dried them out more, only wanting to help relieve her of any possible pain, as that’s what Jennifer always did. That’s why she told herself she was thinking of the drop dead gorgeous girl who she had sworn she’d seen before, and she promised to herself she would find her and let her know.

And apparently, she would.

It wouldn’t be for a few hours, though, not until they both ended up at the top floor of the library, the quietest one where there was a silent rule that speaking was forebode. Emily internally cursed herself for that, feeling damned that fate would put her in a position of such pining, yearning. It was an ironic situation, though, as Emily would like to believe that she would have the confidence in herself enough to actually go up to the blonde and make conversation, maybe ask her for a study date? But, she wouldn’t. Not today.

Jennifer would, though. Jennifer would catch notice of the brunette lurking behind the single bookshelf in the upper level, as it was only really there for storage and the shelves were sparse. So with her heart beating and her palms sweaty, she went down the flights of stairs, her feet silent against the carpet. They would sound out again when she reached the tile flooring of the second level, and she screwed her eyes shut, hoping that somehow the girl followed her and that JJ would hear her footprints.

She didn’t care how ridiculous she looked, all bundled up and standing in the middle of a group of tables with her eyes closed, almost like she was trying to turn invisible, hiding in plain sight. Honestly, she very well may have been.

A few beats passed, and Jennifer gave up on her non existent spidey senses, deciding to try to actually rid her mind of raven girl, as she had decided to call her until she knew her real name, and study for her upcoming exam that she her until she knew her real name, and study for her upcoming exam that she somehow had, despite it only being the sophomores first day.

So she sat quietly as she read through her criminology textbook, humming some tune that her friend had introduced her to, something by a new indie group. Her humming came to a cease, though, when she heard a thud. She looked up, a small gasp falling from her glossed lips at who was sitting across from her.

She looked right back down to the tanned wood of the table, as soon as she saw warm brown eyes boring into her. Then, it was quiet, just the bustle of those around her. Pages flipping, pencils scratching, and small groans escaping from tired students as they went.

“Why’d you stop?”

Jennifer’s breath caught in her throat, her perfectly manicured hand freezing on the paragraph she was reading. Raven girl's voice had caught her off guard, deep and smooth, like honey.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” The blonde stuttered out, still having a hard time meeting her eyes.

“Your humming, I liked it, it was nice. Don’t tell me you stopped because of me!” She leaned forward on her arm, quirking a perfect eyebrow. They both laughed, and Emily felt she hadn’t ever in her life heard such a golden and melodic sound before.

“Sorry, sorry, you just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Emily. I just transferred here from-”

“University of Pittsburgh?”

A look of bewilderment came across Emily's stark features, along with a sly smile. “How’d you know,”

“Jennifer. My name’s Jennifer. I came here for my grad studies a while back.”

Emily chuckled again, falling back to her chair. “God, I swore you looked so familiar.” She said, watching as Jennifer laughed and shook her head. Jennifer closed her book, observing that Emily never had even opened hers. She placed it in her bag slinging it over her shoulder. She stood, Emily following suite.

“Small world, right, Emily?”

She nodded immediately, tightening her own grip on her satchel. The leather was cool on her calloused fingers,

“Care to chat with me about it over a coffee?”

And that’s how they ended up sitting in the quaint cafe just down the road, watching as the sun started to sink, beverages in hand. Jennifer had found out that Emily preferred her coffee black, while Emily had found out that Jennifer liked hers with 2 hazelnut creams and 4 sugars. The thought made both girls smile, finding that both drinks fit their personalities perfectly.

Growing impatient, Emily ran her tongue over her lips again, feeling the peeling skin, the taste bitter and the sores burning. She leaned closer to Jennifer, like she had earlier in the library. Jennifer could feel her breath fanning over her neck, and it gave her butterflies, just like the ones she can remember being so obsessed with in her youth.

“What do you say we get outta here, find somewhere to watch the sunset?”

Jennifer only nodded bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and standing, taking Emily's hand as it had been offered to her, following her wherever she may go.

Now, they were sitting on the concrete of the rooftop to the freshman dorms, Emily somehow managing to get through, claiming she had some friends who would be happy to let her up. Apparently, she wasn’t bluffing.

“Sunset’s gorgeous, huh?” Jennifer spoke, her hands feeling the rough material beneath her, the wind blowing against her face. Her hair floated around her like a halo, and though Emily had lost much faith, if she had to spot an angel, her money was on them looking just like the girl next to her. Her eyes never left Jennifer’s silhouette as she spoke, her focus captured.

“Yeah. Breathtaking.”

Jennifer turned to meet her gaze, both of them fully understanding what breathtaking, really, truly meant in that moment. It was the windswept hair, breathtaking, really, truly meant in that moment. It was the windswept hair, watery eyes, red noses. Bright smiles, hands basically itching to reach for the other.

“Does everyone call you Jennifer?”

“I mean, my mom calls me Jen?”

Emily shook her head, saying “No, that won’t work. How about a last name?”

“Jareau.”

She took a second, using this as an opportunity to stall, decide her next move.

“I’ve got it! How about JJ? Yeah?”

Jennifer or JJ, smiled again, looking to her hands. She loved it, God, why did she love it? She knew the answer to that, because Emily had given it to her, it was new, exciting. Just like her.

“It’s that, or J squared. Which one?” She tilted her head, and then both laughed and smiled, something they found they would be doing a lot of together.

“Yeah, you’re right. JJ is good, it’s good.” She whispered, lifting her head. She was met with Emily, who had some troubled look upon her face. She was conflicted, that much JJ could tell, her few profiling classes she’d had serving her well.

They were close, now, and JJ could finally see the folds and cracks of the other girls lips, wanting nothing more than to just lean in and kiss them, once and for all.

“Y’know, uh, licking your lips makes dryness even worse.”

Emily's mouth made an “o”, a smile coming soon after.

“Really? Well then you’ve got to spill, what on Earth do you do to keep yours so damn perfect?”

“I- Fuck.”

Not waiting a second more, JJ rushed forward, connected their lips in what felt so long awaited, though they had only formally known each other for a few hours. The contrast of their skin was so enticing, so addicting, they couldn’t help but smile, teeth clashing and breaths mixing. They only separated to catch their breaths, chests heaving.

“It’s chapstick. I never leave home without it.” JJ commented, said chapstick having left remnants on Emily's lips. She nodded, opening her eyes.

“Yeah, I got that. Peppermint and,” She quickly flicked her tongue again, recognition becoming prevalent in her features. “cinnamon?”

JJ’s smile widened, as it had never left her face, and she nodded slowly, pulling the tube out from her right pocket. She popped off the lid, shifting positions so that she was straddling Emily's lap, her hair dangling in her eyes.

“Is this okay?” She questioned, the chapstick still in her shaky hand. Emily nodded vigorously, her heart beating quite fast, her mind repeating all the possibilities that could go wrong like some sort of mantra.

“Yeah, this is more than okay.” She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. JJ did the same, putting on another round of the solution before leaning down and placing a long kiss on Emily's lips. She pulled away, running the tube over them again, “just for good measure” she had said.

When they finally had left the cold rooftop, hand in hand, the sky had turned into an indigo sheet, the stars in it shimmering as bright as ever.

“Em?” JJ had questioned, stopping in her tracks. Emily looked over, raising her brows and tilting her head, resembling a puppy.

“Hmm?”

“Can we do this again?”

The question hung in the air, and Emily savoured it, letting it sink in deeply, as deep as it could go. They started walking again, their heels echoing loudly against the wet stone.

“Yeah, JJ. I’d like that.”

♀♀♀

hmmmmmmm interesting ANYWAY i’ll make a pt two prolly idk peace ily go drink water and eat protein

edit: i just reread this this is so horrible what the FAWK im so sorry never let me write when im pulling an all nighter ever again

xx hj

#jemily #jj jareau #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily fic #jennifer jareau x emily prentiss #jj x emily #wlw fic #jj jareau fic #emily prentiss fic #idk what to tag this #cm #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #we will rock queue

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