#I don't know why but I fixated on the broken bell
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NANCY DREW — 3x12: The Witch Tree Symbol
“Kids today, am I right?”
#I don't know why but I fixated on the broken bell#I can't explain it#it can't be for nothing#my head won't let it#re-watch retrospective#RR#Nancy Drew#3x12#The Witch Tree Symbol#ace [redacted]#nancy drew cw#nancy#temperance hudson#temperance#ned nickerson#nick#george fan#george#bess marvin#bess turani#bess#florence#cw nancy drew
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‧₊˚໒꒱ all along there were some, invisible strings...
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~ characters : leo valdez x daughter of iris
~ synopsis : you and leo have met on multiple occasions. three times, you guys have met, and you've never been friends. so why is it only now that he might be someone you don't want to leave?
~ tw(s) : nothing i can think of?
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1st time.
you shot up in bed, sitting and shaking while your breath heaved. you'd had another nightmare, which wasn't unusual at this point, but you still felt the rush of anxiety through you after it had happened. you looked around, making sure everything was ok around you. yup, your sleeping siblings still were safe in their beds.
you got up, and threw on a hoodie over your pajamas, then slipped on some shoes. you needed a walk to clear your head, and that nightmare was still embedded in your mind. you walked over to the door, stepping carefully. you opened the door and sneaked outside, closing it carefully to ensure your siblings wouldn't wake up.
it was a strangely cold summer morning, very early, right after sunrise. though, you wouldn't be able to tell with the clouds covering the sky. you took in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smell of the cold.
you decided to go sit by the lake, which wasn't very far. no one else was awake, and you thought about your nightmare as you walked. it was a repetitive one. one you wouldn't never let go, the memory haunting you forever.
you snapped out of your mind as you noticed someone was already sitting at your favorite bench. he had dark curls, and seemed to be tinkering with something. you didn't know anyone else that could've been awake at this point.
"you're in my spot." you said. walking closer. the turned around and smiled. he had a sharp grin on, and his dark brown eyes seemed to gleam with mischief. you felt your cheeks warm, probably from the cold.
"actually, i was here first." he announced, scooting so he sat directly in the middle of the bench, so there was no space for you to sit comfortably. you frowned and crossed your arms.
"hey, man, just let me sit here in peace. i need it." you sighed, watching him twitch with energy.
"no thank you, princess, i'd prefer to be here too." he went back to the project in his hands. it was a small, toy dragon. yet it was made of celestial bronze. odd. you walked around so you were facing him, and kicked him in the shins.
"dude, just go find another spot. there's like, dozens of benches." you groaned. he winced but just laughed.
"so why don't you go find one?" he smirked, spinning the tail on his toy. you bit your lip, frustrated at his stubborness.
"because.." this is my favorite bench, not yours, you wanted to say, but held back. "because i like it. okay? at least make room for me." you finally offered. he thought a bit, and nodded.
"sure, i'd love to sit next to a beautiful girl like you." he adjusted, so there was space for you. you sat next to him, watching the lake ripple and sway.
"soo... whatcha doin out here this early?" he asked, is eyes fixated on the dragon.
"says you." you glanced over, smirking a little. he looked up and noticed your smile, causing him to grin too.
"well, i wanted some time alone. obviously, it didn't end up that way, but i just needed some... time." he said, glancing at his dragon. he seemed so obsessed with it. you wanted to ask, but decided against it.
"yeah..." you nodded. after a bit more silence, broken by the occasional squeak of metal grinding against each other, you sighed.
"so, what's your name?" you asked, looking over at the boy. he smiled.
"leo valdez, at your service." he grinned. "and my dragon, festus!" he lifted the dragon up, so the light shone on it. you nodded.
"what about you, princess?" he asked. you were about to say, when a bell rang. wow you guys had been out there for a while. it was breakfast time, and you wanted to hurry back to change. you smiled at him, and got up.
"next time we meet, maybe you'll know." you teased, and ran off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2nd time.
camp half-blood had finished, summer was over. autumn had rolled in, and you were off to go back home. you promised your siblings to come back to visit, but you dearly missed your dad. he was always supportive of you, and when you were a kid he'd share amazing stories of your mother. you always thought he was joking, or trying to make you feel better, but you realized he was in love.
now, the hermes cabin and decided to play a prank on leaving campers. see, the campers had to drop off their suitcases (if they had them) with their things in the big house, so it could be watched over before they left.
the next day, wandered over to the big house. as you did, you noticed the disarray of confused campers and one upset chiron. you sneaked past them, into the room, to see the mess. the suitcases were all over the ground, the stuff in them had been switched into others, the tags crossed out and tossed. it was chaotic.
"oh my gods..." you gasped, seeing your favorite shirt on the couch, your suitcase on the other side of the room. you dashed to pick it up, weaving through the other campers.
as you stuck your hand out to grab it, you heard the sigh of the camp director.
"you all better help! this is going to set us back by at least a day!" he groaned, talking to the hermes kids. they all seemed pleased, but put on a poker face of sadness and remorse.
you walked around the room, snatching up skewed items of yours. as you came across your suitcase, you noticed a black haired boy rummaging through it, cursing as he kept pulling out bolts and pieces.
"leo?!" you asked, kicking him off of it. he winced but glanced up.
"oh, hey princess." he grinned. he backed up, pointing at the suitcase. "the hermes cabin stole some of my nuts and bolts and threw them around into the suitcases. i need them all for my project." he sighed. "is this your suitcase?"
"yes, it is mine. i would appreciate if you didn't go through it." you said sharply, kneeling to shove your clothes in it. he backed up, blushing.
"oh, sorry. i didn't mean to, i just needed the scraps that had fallen in..." he promised, opening his hand to reveal the items. you glanced and shrugged.
"okay, whatever," you said, and quickly zipped up your bag, and stood up, facing leo. he gave you a nervous grin, and fidgeted. his fingers were twitching.
"so, uh, princess, never got that name of yours." he said, smirking. he hoped you would lay off your bitter words.
"never threw it." you teased back, grinning. he smiled, rubbing his arms. you bit your lip, then told him.
"gods, that's a really pretty na-" suddenly was a loud crashing sound from outside.
"AH! KIDS!" chiron said, as some hermes campers had fallen off of a makeshift stack of luggage. he groaned and walked inside, nervous at the disarray.
"if anyone's ready, we have a bus prepared." he said, trying his best to be calm. a couple kids hurried out, and you looked back at leo.
"see ya next summer, leo." you smiled, and started walking out.
"you too, princess!" he called back, grinning.
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3rd time.
it was the next summer, and you were chosen to go on a quest. one you couldn't possibly go on. you were sitting on the steps of your cabin, slightly shivering at the thought of terrors ahead.
you were so caught up in your mind, you hadn't noticed the boy who'd come up to you.
"hey, um, everything ok?" a voice asked. you looked up. leo was standing there, awkwardly. he had worry written all over his face, and you felt bad.
"yeah yeah, of course." you assured, trying to stop your quaking. he shook his head, and sat right next to you.
"it's ok if you're not. quests can be really scary. not the actual thing, sometimes, but just the idea." you felt like breaking down. you'd been stressed recently, and the idea of crying into leo's arms was becoming more and more appealing.
"thanks." you said, and went back to staring off in the distance, your mind lingering. leo nodded, and took your hand in his. it made your heart flutter, but you shook it off as nerves. he made gentle circles with his thumb, reassuring you.
"just so you know, i think you're gonna do great. you're the best fighter i've seen." he said it seriously. whether or not that was true, you'd never know. but you smiled.
"thanks, like, seriously. i'd been stressed for a bit, and this on top..." you responded, shaking your head. he listened.
"hey, if you ever need to talk, drop by my cabin. i'll listen." he said. you felt you heart skip again. i'll listen. gods, this boy was gonna drive you crazy. you nodded, and leaned on leo's shoulder. he let you, not trying to do anything romantic or cheesy. he just wanted to be a comforting friend.
"leo, what was the first quest you'd ever done?" you said quietly. he sighed, relaxing his shoulders a little.
"me, piper, and jason had just gotten to camp half-blood. then we were sent to go beat up some giants to stop the first part of gaeas plan of rising. i think we did well." he grinned, looking over at you. you smiled.
"i.. i'm really scared." you admitted. he nodded slowly, motioning for you to continue. "i've never gone on a quest, and what good would i do?" you asked nervously. he looked surprised and shook his head.
"what do you mean 'what good would you do'? everyone has a key role to play. even you. i swear." he said, smiling reassuringly. you nodded.
"can you stay here for a bit?" you asked, shaking still ever so slightly. he nodded. you to sat there, enjoying each others company in silence.
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you'd just gotten back from you quest, and gods did it feel good to be back. your clothes were tattered, and you were exhausted. campers cheered as you and your fellow buddies from the quest arrived, grinning and hugging you guys. you hugged them all back, but searched the crowd. nothing.
"hey, princess!" you glanced over and smiled at the voice. leo was standing towards the back, on top of something to get his height up. you released the person you'd been hugging and quickly ran around the campers. you stopped in front of leo, who'd been standing on a brick.
"leo, get down here!" you cried over the voices of the other campers yelling. he nodded, and crawled down, and you threw your arms around him. "gods, i missed you!" you exclaimed, holding him tight.
leo was very surprised, but quickly held you tight against him too. you bit your lip, stepping back to look into his eyes. after a week of thinking, you had realizations.
"leo, can i-" you were broken of by leo's lips pressing against yours, hungry with love and longing. you felt yourself gasp, but kissed him back. gods you hadn't realized how much you'd wanted this.
you two stood there, in each others presence like nothing else mattered. it felt like the world had stopped. he was kissing you. and you loved it.
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~ an:
OMG HI GUYS! I FINISHED THIS! I HOPE YALL DONT THINK IT SUCKS, I TRIED MY HARDEST :((
I HOPE YALL R DOING WELL AND I LOVE ALL OF U WHO READ MY FICS :333
#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x fem reader#leo valdez x daughter of iris#hoo#heros of olympus#fanfic#hoo fanfic
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What do you think of the Damsel in Distress trope? A fair few people these days may find it outdated and sexist, but I am very interested in what you have to say about it. Like Love at First Sight, I don't think you ever talked about it at length.
I know a lot of people fixate on that specific trope, but I personally don't really believe in it? Or at least I never observe it like that. It doesn't make any sense to me, because we're all damsels at different parts of our own story and the same can be said for different characters. There are many instances in which Aladdin is a damsel, or Eric, or even Phillip but we don't characterize them in that way. The media does with someone like Snow White, even though no one ever directly saves her from her own plights (she rebuilds her life from the ground up in the forest, she actively finds what's essentially an occupation/way to get room and board at the cottage, and it's not like anyone saves her from eating the apple). The kiss is when she's thought to be lost and only for a few minutes of screentime, so I definitely wouldn't call her a damsel, nor would I call someone like Cinderella a damsel. Like the only point in which I could directly see her being a damsel in distress, I guess, is in the attic when Lady Tremaine locks her room but Cinderella is active the entire time, orchestrates her escape, runs past her oppressors down the steps, scrambles to get a chance at the slipper, and produces its mate when it's broken. So I definitely wouldn't characterize her as one either?
What I will say though is that I find heroines who actively try to refute the damsel trope end up adhering to what people criticize about it more than their predecessors. I'll take Meg for an example, since she literally tells us, the audience, she's a damsel and might be in distress but she can handle it. I like Meg, but she, Jasmine, and Belle might adhere to that trope the most? Meg literally has no agency in her story, she's a side character, and her entire story is defined by her ex boyfriend's betrayal, her imprisonment to Hades, and how she falls in love with Hercules. She's continually in need of being saved and helpless, despite telling us the opposite:
Again, is this necessarily a bad thing? No. But I do think her film and her audience try to display the opposite, just because she has a few snarky one-liners and is a self-proclaimed misanthrope. Like, she claims she won't fall in love, but it ends up happening to her anyway and that's the same pattern with her relationship to being self sufficient and protecting herself (where she claims one thing, but another happens to her). I like Meg, so this isn't a slight against her more...I guess how different audiences perceive different things, despite the objective nature of the content. And I do think it's a worthy discussion to have of why we consider this to be a damsel in distress trope:
But this is a strong, independent woman that defies that trope:
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Junior Wheeler Playlist
*pats playlist* This bad boy can fit 207 songs that lasts in total 12 hours and 27 minutes. I fixate too much on Junior. But I got inspired by @high-functioning-fang1rl Nica playlist so I had to do one for Junior too.
This is on my iTunes account and idk how to manage Spotify so if y'all wanna listen to it, I'm going to put all the songs down below. The ones with * on it are the ones I 1000000% relate for Junior. And feel free to send asks about any of the songs and I'll legit do a lyric analyst to explain why I chose it for Junior.
Anyway, enjoy :)
Avril Lavigne
Losing Grip*
Wish You Were Here
Let Me Go
Billie Eilish
COPYCAT
lovely*
you should see me in a crown*
bury a friend
everything i wanted*
Therefore I Am
Happier Than Ever*
Christina Perri
Distance
The Lonely*
Tragedy
Human
Digital Daggers
Where the Lonely Ones Roam*
The Devil Within*
Can't Sleep, Can't Breathe
Still Here*
Bad Intentions
Dorothy
Raise Hell*
Wicked Ones
Beetlejuice the Musical
Dead Mom*
Say My Name
That Beautiful Sound
Home*
Evanescence
Going Under*
Bring Me To Life
Everybody's Fool*
My Immortal*
Tourniquet
Hello*
My Last Breath
Whisper*
Sweet Sacrifice*
Weight of the World*
Lithium*
Like You
Lose Control*
All That I Am Living For
Made of Stone*
The Change*
My Heart Is Broken
The Other Side
Lost in Paradise*
Sick*
Never Go Back
A New Way To Bleed*
Even in Death
Missing*
Farther Away
Fall Out Boy
I Don't Care*
My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark
Alone Together*
Young Volcanoes*
Irresistible
Centuries*
Immortals*
Halsey
Empty Gold
Hold Me Down*
New Americana*
Ghost
Colors*
Colors, Pt. II
Gasoline*
Control*
I Walk the Line
Alone*
Now or Never
Sorry
Good Mourning*
Lie*
Angel on Fire*
Devil in Me*
clementine
Graveyard
Forever ... (is a long time)*
I HATE EVERYBODY*
3am*
Finally // beautiful stranger*
Still Learning
Bells in Santa Fe*
Easier than Lying*
Lilith
Darling*
1121*
honey
Whispers*
Ya'aburnee
People Disappear Here*
Hollywood Undead
Young*
Paradise Lost*
Another Way Out
We Are*
Medicine
Renegade
Imagine Dragons
Radioactive
Demons*
I'm So Sorry*
Monster*
Who We Are
Natural*
Enemy*
LINKIN PARK
Faint
Numb*
What I've Done*
Heavy
Livingston
Shadow*
Surprise!*
Marina and The Diamonds
Oh No!*
Teen Idle
Melanie Martinez
Dollhouse*
Soap*
Training Wheels
Pity Party*
Milk and Cookies*
Mad Hatter*
The Principal
Show & Tell*
Drama Club
Lunchbox Friends*
Orange Juice*
High School Sweethearts
DEATH*
VOID*
FAERIE SOIREE
LIGHT SHOWER
SPIDER WEB*
LEECHES*
BATTLE OF THE LARYNX*
THE CONTORTIONIST*
NYMPHOLOGY
EVIL*
PLUTO*
Olivia Rodrigo
brutal*
Can't Catch Me Now*
Queen
Bohemian Rhapsody*
Under Pressure
The Show Must Go On*
Set It Off
Nightmare*
I'll Sleep When I'm Dead*
Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
Skillet
Falling Inside the Black*
Monster*
Taylor Swift
I Did Something Bad*
Don't Blame Me*
Look What You Made Me Do*
my tears ricochet
seven*
this is me trying*
hoax
Anti-Hero*
You're On Your Own, Kid*
Vigilante Shit*
Three Days Grace
Just Like You*
I Hate Everything About You
Born Like This
Overrated*
Pain*
Animal I Have Become*
Riot
Let It Die
Bitter Taste*
Break
The Good Life*
Someone Who Cares*
Chalk Outline
Misery Loves My Company*
Human Race*
Pain Killer*
Fallen Angel
So What*
Nothing's Fair in Love and War
One Too Many
twenty one pilots
Stressed Out*
Ride
Fairly Local*
Other Artists
Let Me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin
Here by Alessia Cara*
Panic Room by Au/Ra*
I'm Gonna Show You Crazy by Bebe Rexha*
Dark Side by Bishop Briggs*
idfc by blackbear
Break the Rules by Charli XCX
Arcade by Duncan Laurence
The Monster by Eminem*
Gorgeous Nightmare by Escape the Fate*
Seven Devils by Florence + the Machine*
You Found Me by The Fray
Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths*
So Alive by The Goo Goo Dolls*
Blood // Water by grandson*
Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day
Impossible by James Arthur*
Human by John "The Ragin Cajun" Jones*
Broken by lovelytheband
How Villains Are Made by Madalen Duke*
Twisted by MISSIO
Voices by Motionless In White
Funeral by Neoni*
How You Remind Me by Nickleback*
Don't Let Me Get Me by P!nk
Cradles by Sub Urban*
Bad Things by Summer Kennedy*
Shattered by Trading Yesterday*
Unsteady by X Ambassadors*
Heads Will Roll by Yeah Yeah Yeahs
#let me know if there are any other songs i should add for junior!#luna talks#admin#chucky#chucky 2021#junior wheeler#playlist#junior wheeler playlist#halsey#melanie martinez#taylor swift#avril lavigne#billie eilish#twenty one pilots#three days grace#hollywood undead#christina perri#digital daggers#dorothy#beetlejuice the musical#evanescence#fall out boy#imagine dragons#linkin park#marina and the diamonds#olivia rodrigo#queen#set it off#skillet#livingston
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Glenn Close Playlist made entirely out of rock and Christmas songs!
Description of why each song was added below the cut
Don't Fear the Reaper: Song Glenn plays when being chased by the grim reaper
Carry on my Wayward Son: Episode title of s1 episode 48, also can be interpreted as Glenns message to Nick after choosing imprisonment
I Fought the Law: Getting arrested by the court, also being replaced by Jodie as Nick's father
Back in Black: Glenn returning with a 12-pack after breaking out of prison
Sweet Child of Mine: Glenn cares about one thing other than himself - Nick. His only remaining family. I know the original song is about the main singer's girlfriend at the time, so could also be interpreted as him mourning Morgan, but the child interpretation makes me actually sob.
Highway to Hell: Glenn's death scene and how his actions throughout the series culminated in the court arc.
My Own Worst Enemy: He sabotages himself so much it's unreal. Especially listening to the trial episodes when the other dads desperately try to get him to stop ruining his own case fjsndn
Jump: Glenn references this while in the battle axe of hatred
Rock and Roll All Nite: 🤘
Shoot to Thrill: Glenn and his iconic gun
Fell in Love with a Girl: Glenn stealing Morgan from Jodie
I Wanna Rock: He wants to rock.
Free Bird: Another song Glenn references in the battle axe of hatred.
Bad Reputation: Glenn doesn't care about his bad reputation.
You're Gonna Go Far, Kid: Glenn's passing on Bill's parenting to Nick, encouraging the same bad habits.
Owner of a Lonely Heart: Glenn dropping the emotional distance he has and processing the loss of his wife and son.
Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer: I remembered that Glenn covered Christmas music and this one is acoustic but fits Glenns vibe/sense of humor.
Jingle Bell Rock - Metal Cover: Jingle Bell Rock but if it was modern rock. Glenn Close Trio definitely did a cover like this.
Wanted Dead or Alive: He's a criminal who broke out of jail, baby! Also Bon Jovi is classic.
Fortunate Son: Glenn grew up with Bill Closes influence and therefore was predisposed to not really having a normal life.
Wake Me Up When September Ends: Glenn doesn't really start to deal with Morgan's death until the end of season 1, matches the songs theme of grief so awful it feels easier to avoid.
Seven Nation Army: Glenn leveling up like a million levels due to the deck of all things.
You Give Love a Bad Name: Either a commentary on Glenns parenting (he loved Nick but neglected him) or Glenn is singing it at Jodie due to jealousy/to prove he was a better father.
Bad to the Bone: Glenns very choatic and is interpreted by the justice system as evil.
I Won't be Home for Christmas: An (anti) Christmas rock song mostly picked for the title and him not being with Nick during the Christmas season. Also the main character goes to jail and can't have a Christmas tree which feels metaphorical.
We Built this City: I imagine it as Glenn wanting Nick to remember him by referencing songs he taught to him when he was young.
Let it Snow: More Christmas rock, done by a trio!
Little Saint Nick: Nick was probably atleast partially named due to the association with Christmas and Saint Nicholas. Also a classic rock Christmas song Glenn would cover, while missing Nick during a tour.
All Star: Another one with Glenn vibes. Also dangers of rock and roll life style.
Holiday/Boulevard Broken Dreams: Glenns outward attitude he presents (Holiday) versus the feelings he's trying to hide (Boulevard of Broken Dreams). Also I hyper fixated on the American Idiot album like a month ago and could go on a whole rant comparing Glenn and Jesus of Suburbia but won't go into that brain rot for the purposes of making this post not super long didndkdk.
Summer of 69': Glenn probably getting into music as a kid due to looking up to his dad, similarly Nick getting into music due to Glenn.
American Idiot: Glenns anti-establishment attitude. Also even if he's not explicitly queer he has something going on. "Your dad's gnc as fuck""You're insane".
Dani California and Californiacation: Glenn being a rock musician in Los Angeles and the history that comes with that (namely the use of drugs and the "rough" life style associated with the rock life style in LA). His own self-destructive tendencies (Californiacation) and his love of Morgan (Dani California).
Run Rudolph Run: Christmas song by classic rock musician!
Christmas (Baby Please Come Home): Glenn and Nick's first Christmas without Morgan.
The Distance: Glenns tendency to try to look flashy, even at the expense of working with the team (ie the scene with Erin).
Say it Ain't So: The cycle of neglect from Bill to Glenn to Nick. The mention of drug use and both Glenn and Nick having to act like they don't care and partially blaming themselves for neglect.
Livin' on a Prayer: Glenn trying to raise Nick by himself after Morgan died unexpectedly.
We're Not Gonna Take It: More anti-establishment. Fight for Your Right: Another classic rock. Also Glenn tending to be irresponsible and prioritize having fun over his responsibilities.
Live Wire: In one of Glenns dad facts, Freddie says that Glenn read the Mötley Crue biography to Nick, but censored all of the inappropriate content, making it very short.
Barracuda: Glenn vibes. E
Enter Sandman: Referenced by Glenn in the podcast. Also the reference of "Never-ever land" and themes about Glenn not having fully grown up by the beginning of season 1.
Big Ride: The song Glenn sings to incite the prison riot.
Folsom Prison Blues: Referenced during the prison riot episode intro.
For Whom the Bell Tolls (in Japanese): Glenn's death scene at the end of the season.
Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer: More classic Christmas song as a rock cover. The energy is very fun. Sidenote: My Spotify recommended songs are filled with Christmas rock songs after making this playlist. I am Jewish . This is a cry for help.
Run, Rudolph, Run: Modern rock take on the classic Chuck Berry Song. Probably what a cover the Glenn Close trio would do would sound like.
The Gambler: Glenn quotes this at the rest of the party. Also Glenn being really good at making plans/making the best of circumstances (Oakvale, prison, making Hell play Christmas music, etc.)
Godzilla: Vibes. Also my dad likes classic rock and always wants me to play this on my school's music request app.
We Wish You a Merry Christmas: Welcoming message from Hell!
Sweet Emotion: Mentioned in one of the last episodes I think. Glenn really just is winging life at this point, so valid of him.
Don't You Forget About Me: Mentioned in one of the last episodes of season 1. Glenn hopes Nick remembers him.
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a night in conversation
It was a solemn night, one so rare to appear after a mission of blood and terror. The bar was colored with muted lights, a somber atmosphere for a city as lively as Yokohama. Glasses clinked silently and quiet chatters roamed the four corners as if searching for a place to be, yearning for a place to rest.
Two people stepped inside the bar, the chatters stopped, only silence remained as knowing eyes surveyed the men dressed in blood and dirt.
The silence lasted a second, a suspenseful entrance.
Knowing eyes that know too much become corpses in the morning. So keeping quiet, always keeping quiet, the chatters returned.
It was rare a moment to see Dazai and Chuuya hanging out after a mission. It was even rarer for Chuuya to initiate this kind of conversation.
One, two, three glasses in.
"Why do you always wanna die?"
As if an answer has already been recorded, Dazai replied without a moment to spare, "Do you think there's any value in living?"
It was a question directed to himself.
Tipsy, his vision was getting a little bit blurry yet somehow, Chuuya managed to stay awake. "Value, huh?"
Chuuya twirled the drink in his hand. The ice clinked on to the glass, and as if starting a chain of harmonies that led to a surprisingly well-off musical, it provided a background rhythm to his words.
"What do you think value is? Do you think someone will give you a letter that says, 'this is the reason why you're living?' Don't make me laugh, bastard."
The receding liquid in Chuuya's glass seemed so interesting that his eyes fixated on it. "I was born into this world without any knowledge whatsoever so I don't think I was given any humane values when I came out."
Not with a destructive entity inside you. Never with a destructive entity living inside you.
Dazai stayed silent, awfully quiet as if becoming one with the tainted wallpapers stripping in and of itself of this old-timey bar.
Somehow also finding his partner's drink interesting, Dazai watched it closely as Chuuya sipped.
"In the end, we're gonna rot and die. Probably me before you."
Chuuya didn't know what he expected when he turned to Dazai and saw a subtly concerned face.
Arahabaki is a pain in the ass and Corruption destroys my body everytime I use it. Why are you acting like you're not aware of this?
"Chuuya-"
"Don't die before me, and don't die a lame death."
The bell rung, signifying another customer, and a wave of silence fell on them once more. Chuuya decided to leave with those words in the air, his glass echoed over the counter as he turned towards the door.
"Chuuya, do you think there's really any value in living?" A broken sound, different from before, directed to his partner.
"No one is handing out letters, Dazai. You make your own and write whatever you want."
Chuuya paused, anticipating the other's response.
Nothing.
"I've decided to kill you in the future. Look forward to it."
It was too solemn a night to fight, too solemn a night to argue. Dazai watched as Chuuya opened the door and disappeared.
Is there any value in living?
Recalling Chuuya's words, Dazai's mind fell into a silence.
No one is handing out letters, huh.
Dazai's lips curled into a smile.
"Guess I'll look forward to it."
tags @jessbeinme15 @chuuy-a @chuupire @confusedinsominiac @jesperisamfbicon @glittercrashhh @panic-at-the-gender @no-brain-just-akutagawa @deadmitochondria @galacticfairytheweeb @saintsprotecttheghoul @11nolongerhuman @boredotaku567 @bungoustraypups @akuutaguava @elvearryn @exi-stencil-ism @sophiliated @anxious-limp-noodle @ikin-y0u @missrown @miss-akutagawa @llanime @lillybet-the-overlord @jas-sea @flower-of-darkness @beautiful-is-boring @rirk-ke
i feel compelled to apologize for the tag but that aside, i hope you enjoy <3
#everyone i give you depressed chuuya#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#dazai osamu#bsd dazai#chuuya nakahara#bsd chuuya#chuuya#dazai#dazai x chuuya#soukoku#bsd soukoku#bsd skk#skk#bsd fanfiction#bsd fanfic#soukoku fanfiction#bsd fic#bsd fics#tiny fic#samuel fics
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mirror
An old mirror dirty enough to the point you can’t see your reflection anymore. Faust decided to take a better look at it. He never expected it to turn out as a lost relic from a once prosperous city.
“Oh dear me!” Snow gasped, putting his hand over his mouth to appear more shocked than he actually is. A thoughtful smile suddenly took over his expression not long after as he put his hands on his hips. “I would’ve never thought I’d see this again in this day and age.”
“You know what this is?” Faust’s eyes widened as he examined the mirror in his hands once more, its golden rim giving off a shiny gleam after recovering it from the ruins during their last expedition to the Eastern country. It managed to pique the hermit’s interest after seeing it lay bare on the ground in such a terrible state, wanting to recover it to its former beauty. In some way, it reminded him of himself.
“But of course! This was awfully revered back in the day by both humans and wizards alike. It’s a good thing that my weary self was able to remember it.” Snow chirped, taking a closer look at the mirror. “A relic from a once-famous city—a mirror that is said to have the ability to show you the future. After their downfall, no one had any idea about where the relic laid rest. Ohoho! You’ve come across an exquisite item indeed.”
“The ability to show me the future? That’s ridiculous. I just picked it up from the ground, there’s no way a mirror like this is a lost relic.” Despite the sureness from his words, his voice held a certain kind of doubt that believed Snow. There was no reason for someone like Snow to lie to him after all, there was simply no merit in doing so and Snow wasn’t one to lie about this sort of stuff just for his own amusement.
“You think I jest? I see, then why don’t you try it out for yourself?” Snow’s expression held a smug smile before he remembered something and he let out a small gasp. “I heard it was very moody and picky though, so it might not work on your first try.”
“A moody mirror? The more I hear about this mirror the more I think that it’s a joke.” Faust shook his head.
“Ohoho! Try saying ‘please and thank you’ to the mirror when you try.” What Snow said sounded like a tease but Faust knew well that he was being serious. He didn’t know which one was worse—he could only let out a sigh as he inspected the mirror again. Could a mirror truly tell him of the future? Such an item is far too dangerous to be left out in the open.
“Woah, so you’re telling me this mirror can show you the future?” You wandered inside Faust’s room back and forth but your eyes remained fixated on the mirror placed on his desk, its intricate golden design never failed to catch your interest. It was hard to believe such a thing was capable of showing you the future when all sorts of magic relating to that were either forbidden or extremely hard unless you were gifted with the gift of prophecy like the twins from the North.
Faust let out a sigh, he couldn't bring himself to believe it either but there were a lot of strange things in this world—this was just one of them. "Apparently," he pushed up his glasses as he took the mirror in his hands and looked at his reflection. "Do you want to give it a try?"
"Me?" You asked curiously, wondering why Faust would ask you such a thing but you weren't against the idea of the mirror showing you your possible future. Though you can't help but feel a little bit scared when you thought about the possibilities—there was nothing more terrifying than the unknown future, after all. Faust handed you the mirror and you stared at it blankly. With much hesitance, you nodded.
"I'll try… how does this even work in the first place?" You tried tapping the glass, wondering if it was some sort of touch screen mirror but you were met with disappointment when it did nothing.
"Snow said to try saying 'please and thank you' to the mirror, I don't know if that'll work though. He said it was moody." Faust let out a dry chuckle, the thought still ridiculous to him but never crossed it out as impossible. If the mirror would truly respond to something like that, it only proved the strangeness of this magical world. You shot him a strange look, a moody mirror? But you pushed back the doubt to the back of your head and put your trust in him instead.
"Mirror, can you show me the future? Pretty please?" You cooed, feeling a bit stupid for pleading to a mirror like this. You waited a few moments for a reaction while looking at the object expectantly, only to be met with utter disappointment when it did absolutely nothing. Faust was silent along with you until he let out a small laugh, did you look stupid when you were doing that? You questioned if Snow was just pulling both of your legs, that mischievous old man!
"As expected, it won't work just because we asked it to."
"Geez, Faust! Do you really think a shabby thing like this can show us the future?" Shabby was the last word you would use to describe the mirror had it not been for your rage towards its defect. It looked elegant and regal, as if it didn't spend centuries lying beneath some rubble—it was a miracle the glass wasn't broken by such heavy fragments lying atop of it. You shook your head and gave Faust the mirror, giving up on it after you added: "How about you try it? It might listen to you because you're the one that picked it up."
He shot you a hesitant look, he had a feeling this wasn't going to end well yet he pushed that feeling into the back of his mind and stared at his reflection—he caught a small glimpse of your face in it while you were looking away and he couldn't help but break into a small smile. At that moment, something changed.
The hand mirror shook slightly in his grasp. Faust, alarmed, tried to make it sit still by gripping it tighter but it proved to be futile when it flew from his grasp and a blinding light filled the room—eliciting gasps of shock from the both of you as Faust grabbed to shield you from whatever was emerging in his room. When the light disappeared, it took him a while to get adjusted to the sudden change but once he did, he saw the hand mirror transformed into a full-body one sitting in the middle of his room.
"What in the world…" Faust left your side to carefully inspect the area, making sure there were no more risks in the area before taking your hand while telling you it was safe—aside from the now huge mirror residing smack middle in his room, its golden glow giving off an intimidating aura. You felt your initial shock turn into excitement.
"Isn't this great? It responded to you! What did you say?" You asked him, curious. You weren't paying attention to him at that time, perhaps you missed something.
"Nothing, actually. It just started vibrating and this happened." Faust tipped his hat slightly, closing his eyes and let out another sigh. One strange thing after another, he was bound to be drained at the end of the day, wasn't he?
"That's strange, you didn't say anything and yet it responded to you… curious." You stroked your chin. Faust stepped into the mirror's view and nothing was out of the ordinary, it showed him nothing of the future, only his reflection. He paused, was it broken after being left there for so many centuries? It was a plausible explanation. It was just like a normal mirror now, it was a shame such a relic has lost its true value—eroded along with the years that passed.
That is, until you stepped into the view.
The moment you stepped into the view, everything that the mirror showed suddenly changed as it emitted a faint white glow. You closed your eyes for a second and you could hear the faint sounds of… bells? You opened your eyes slightly to look at the mirror only for Faust to slap his hand over your eyes to obstruct your vision before you could get a small glimpse of what changed.
A bunch of incomprehensible sounds fell from Faust's lips and you tried to remove his hand from your eyes but that just made his actions more frantic. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the mirror to outside of his room. You tried asking him what his problem was but you were left unheard as he left you outside and shut the door to his room aggressively. By the time you tried making sense of the scenario, you were already staring at his door from outside—did he just kick you out?
Your mouth was wide open when the realization dawned on you—what was his problem!? You crossed your arms grumpily, a part of you wanted to knock on his door again to demand an explanation but another part wanted you to storm off without saying anything to him. You pouted, or was he trying to protect you from something dangerous? Magical items could be dangerous if not handled correctly, after all.
In the end, you didn't know what to do and rested your forehead against his door frame with a clenched fist ready to knock at any given time and a defeated look.
To say Faust panicked back there was an understatement, he felt as if his soul was about to leave his body right then and there when he saw the scene the mirror showed him. He could only breathe a sigh of relief, he was glad he acted quickly before you caught a glimpse of it—that would've made things worse and he wouldn't know what to do. He slumped against the door, feeling a bit light-headed and fuzzy, the heat refusing to leave his face. He was embarrassed.
The sight wasn't something particularly scary or tragic. In fact, it was the complete opposite—though that made it all the more confusing as to why Faust would stop you from looking at it. It was a scene that he saw in one of his many dreams, something that flustered him to no end and wished it would leave him alone.
The bells that rang in the background, the happy couple dressed in white as they looked at each other lovingly, a perfect wedding scene straight from the dreams Faust doesn't tell anyone. A perfect wedding scene of you and him in the distant future—together.
To think your fate was intertwined like this… Faust could only hope that it's a future that's bound to happen. But, right now, he can't let you find out about this lest he wants to live the rest of his life inside the forest hiding from you. He would simply pass away from sheer embarrassment, oh how would he even face you? His cheeks burned red at the thought of a wedding with you once again.
#mhyk#mhyk writing#my writing#promise of wizard#faust#mhyk faust#faust x reader#promise of wizard x reader#mahoyaku x reader#faust lavinia#faust lavinia x reader#no beta we die like white#the wedding rot ... immaculate
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Thousand Light Years
Aone trusts his mother more than anyone, but does he love her more than you.
Aone’s father was rarely present in his life. His mother taught him everything, how to ride a bike, how to be gentle despite his size. No matter how gentle Aone was, he never seemed to get a romantic interest. Sure, he liked girls but he never found one that liked him back. Due to this, Aone built a heavy bond with this mother, she was always there for him, she never judged him. Deemed a momma’s boy, Aone would always value his mothers opinions. The first time Aone talked about her, his mother got worried. She didn’t want her baby boy to get hurt again. “ Takanobu, how is volleyball going?”, she desperately tried to change the subject. The second time she was brought up, Aone asked his mother what type of flowers girls liked. “Now he wants to get her flowers?” his mother thought. “ I have to go to the store, baby, make sure you eat ok?”, after a chaste kiss on the cheek, she bolted out the door. Aone wasn’t dumb but he surely was confused as to why his mother has been doging his questions lately. “ Maybe she wants to meet her. '' Futakuchi comforted his tall friend. Aone gave a chaste grunt and continued to eat. “Maybe she’s jealous Aone-san!” Koganegawa said with too much emotion. Everyone's eyes darted to him as he continued voicing his opinion. “ My mom is pretty jealous too! I remember in junior high, this girl liked me so I took her to come meet my mom. She was so dry and out of it. Figure, your mom might be like that too.” Kogane went back to munching on his lunch, as if he just didn’t provide Aone with the explanation to his problem. “Look, I know you really want your mom to know her but take yourself into consideration man. It won’t end well if they meet, don’t lose this chance” Keiji barely said before the lunch bell rang. (Y/N) had the habit of sending notes to Aone in the middle of class. She figured since he didn’t like talking, maybe he liked writing. “ What’s wrong nobu-san?” the small note read. Oh how he wanted to tell her everything. In the small time they got to know each other, she became a safe place for him. Almost like his mother. The day went by fast, as Aone’s thoughts consumed him. Surely his mother had to accept the girl that was making his son’s heart flutter. “ Get you head out of it” Aone’s thoughts were broken as Futakuchi sat next to him on the train. “ I have a plan so I’m going over to yours, is that ok?” A simple nod is all he received. “ I want to see how your mom reacts, I’ve known her for two years, sure she’s quite like you but she doesn't seem like the jealous type. I’ll slowly bring up (Y/N) and see how it goes. I just want to see you happy man”. Aone felt grateful for the wonderful friends he had. He was alone most of his life, and now he has friends helping him and his romantic dilemmas.
Aone’s house is a quick walk from the train station, the boys were easily at Aone’s front porch within a couple minutes. “ Hello Mrs.Aone!” Futakuchi saif cheerfully, thinking of how to initiate his plan. “ Hello Keiji-kun, will you stay to eat?”...” With your food? Always”. Three plates later, Futakuchi slumped in his chair. “ Ah, everything I come over I eat like a starved man.” he stated, patting his tummy. “ I’ll pack some for your mother too. I’ll be back” After she walked out, the plan commenced. “ Ok Aone, I’m going to make a fake phone call to (Y/N), I don't know, I’ll add something related to Christmas. I’ll make it sound like she really cares for you, then your mom would be ok with it right?” Keiji said excitedly. Aone’s head slanted like a confused bear. “ To be fair, I said I had a plan, never said it was a good plan.” Aone’s mother’s footsteps could be heard walking back to the dining room. He quickly dialed (Y/N) to commence the plan. “Hello?” you answered, confused as to why Futakuchi would call you. “ Oh hey! Yea, I think he would definitely Like that '' Futakuchi said out loud, making sure Aone’s mother could hear. “Hmm, Aone always liked turtles, maybe something of that sort” Futakuchi’s loud voice made Aone;s blush deepen. “ Futakuchi-san, what are you talking about?” You were not even more confused. You knew he knew about your crush on his best friend but he didn’t think he would outwardly call you about it, though it did help since you were planning to confess to him on Christmas day. “ Keiji-kun, its rude to speak on the phone while you're in the table” Aone’s eyes shot up to his mother. She never commented on someone else's actions, especially when she talks on the phone in the table too. “ Sorry, ‘I’ll call you later (Y/N)’ Again, sorry for being rude Mrs.Aone, I think its best for me to leave, thank you for the food” Futakuchi power walked to the door, giving a signal to Aone that he’ll text him later.
“ Yea, you’re mom is definitely jealous” The notification pulled up on Aone’s phone. “ She never comments on my actions :('' a second message came in. Determined to fix the issue, Aone made his way to his mother’s room. “Hi baby, what’s up” his mother looked up from her book. “Why are you acting weird” he bluntly stated. “ I have no ide-”...” The first time I have a girl that likes me back, you act all different. I thought you would be happy for me.” Aone said with a monotone voice. “ Takanobu, baby, you wouldn;t understand. What she feels for you is temporary. Don’t you remember what Sayu made you feel? She liked you for one week and left you. What makes you think that (Y/N) won’t do the same? They all just want to hurt you, like your dad hurt me” He saw his mother spit every word out. He knew his after leaving caused a heavy impact on her. He became the man of the house, a pillar for his mother to lean on. He could never leave his mother. What if she had a point? What if you temporarily liked him? Why would he leave his mothers side to be with someone who would love him for one day? He kneeled down by his mother, tears threatening to spill out. “ Takanobu, look at me. You can;t continue to like her. She will never love you like I do” Her words opened the gates to his tears. She held her son once again, despite his large size, he would always be her little boy.
Everyone noticed how Aone seemed to ignore you in school. You couldn’t say he stopped talking to you, the only form of communication the both of you had was through small notes. You naive mind tried to find excuses. “ What if he is trying to play hard to get, it’ll make the confession much more worth it now. Wait. isn;t tomorrow Christmas?!” Taking out a small note, you quickly wrote. Passing it to Aone’s seatmate. Aone opened the small note, wanting to not even read it, remembering his mothers words. “Please meet me by the Christmas Tree outside the school gate around sun down tomorrow!” Aone crumbled the small letter in his palm and placed it in his pocket. Tomorrow he would tell you how he felt. Tomorrow finally came, you put on a beautiful christmas dress. It was a deep blue, complementing Aone’s name and white hair. You grabbed the neatly wrapped present and made your way to the school gates. The sun was setting way faster than you expected, the street lights were coming on as you saw Aone from a distance, sitting on the bench near the highly decorated tree. “Aone-san!” you quietly yell as you power walk to him. His eyes stayed fixated on the tree, not wanting to look at you. Sitting down next to him, you pushed the present towards him. “No thank you” is all he said. Turning his face to you, you saw his tear stained face. “ I always dreamed of finding a soulmate. Getting excited to see a single person is all I ever wanted. I thought it was you too, but you’re just like the rest.” Aone softly said. His words were like baldes to your heart. “What?” your voice cracked. “ My mother always knows what is right, I loved you (Y/N), I really did, but I trust her more than you. Looking at the stars, I remembered you and I asked if there was anyone for me, perhaps in another galaxy far from here. I will keep looking for a thousand light years”. Aone simply stood up and walked away. The cold wind comforted you, the dim lights made the tears streaming down your face look like shooting stars. With shaking hands, you opened the gift. Pulling out the small turtle ceramic, you smashed it on the floor, revealing a turtle keychain with the small words “Be Mine?”
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#hq#hq x reader#plz forgive me aone#aone takanobu angst#aone x y/n#aone angst#aone x you#aone x reader#aone takanobu x reader
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Complainers (A MHA fanfic)
Midorya x Fem! Reader
(A/N : So this is my first fanfic EVER and I've really been into MHA for a while now and I LOVED reading all the fanfics, and I saw this particular ask to a blog if the reader had a writing quirk and how would Midorya and two other characters would react (I am so sorry I forgot the blog who wrote that) but I wanted to put my spin on it and make the reader be into slam poetry and let their tongue be their weapon. This particular poem is by Rudy Fransisco!! Not my original poem!! Hope y'all enjoy!)
youtube
When you write, it's like the whole world around you finally goes silent. You live out the daydreams in your own head feeling the words on the page a safe space. This was your quirk. Even if it didn't seem as great to be in combat fighting villains, at least it's something to fight your inner demons. That to you was enough.
Midorya was well use to the song and dance of getting you to snap out of your world when the bell rings, apologizing in advance. In truth he hates breaking your concentration, he knows full well that he hates the feeling being separated from writing his notes. But he knew you would sit there for hours on end just writing in your book, even if you finish it all in one go you wouldn't notice that you were writing on the desk. (And yes he had to get you out of there and insisted to clean it up for you). Even after all of this he still admired your quirk no less.
The bell had rung for lunch and everyone stood up and packed their books away and walked out one by one. You feel a tap on your shoulder not a minute later, and a familiar soft spoken voice breaks you from your concentration. " Hey, Y/N, I-Its time for lunch" He says with a smile and you close your book and packed it into your bag, walking with him side by side to the lunchroom.
"So what was today's story in your book?" He asked with a smile looking to you.
"Not a story today, I've been into poetry for a while. So I figured I might try something different. " You say smiling back.
"Woah, I didn't know you were into poetry. That seems really cool! What was it about? "
You were always so surprised that he was interested in your work. Since it was such a personal thing to you and you haven't really shown off your work due to self consciousness, he was always very supportive even from the beginning. Later on you realized that he also loved writing. That was one of the many things that formed a great friendship between you both, besides from your love of heroes and nerding out with each other of course!. You both carried out your conversation while getting your lunches. Sitting down on the table along with everyone else smiling and joking you all causally eat your meals. You pull out your notebook, sliding it over to Midorya to take a look after you promised him too. He smiles and opens to the bookmarked paged, but a soon as he does a hand flashes and snatches the book out of his hands.
"Please tell me you don't think your sorry excuse of a quirk would get you into the top ten!" Bakugou loudly exclaiming with a smug look.
Well shit.
While he was chuckling you were about to stand and get it back, but Midorya beat you to it trying to pry it off of his hands, but Bakugou only lifts it up higher. "What's your deal nerd? Trying to stick up for your little girlfriend?" He says chuckling louder.
"S-she's not my girlfriend kachan! Give back her book! It's not yours!" Midorya says with a blush forming on his face. But Bakugou shoves him away and faces you.
"What makes you think that writing fairytale lands and princesses would make you pro hero? That's not going to save you from the real world. What's going to happen if a villain comes in and starts destroying everything around you? You're gonna write him a love story with a happily ever after!? Give me a break! " He says with a laugh.
"Kachan! You need to stop this" Midorya says stepping back up to him. "Not everyone's quirk is perfect!"
"Heh! If you really think she could handle the world on her own-" He says before holding out the book "Let's give her a chance to prove me wrong! "
And just like that, your notebook, your work your safe haven was blown up to flames. Bits of burnt paper flown into the air, your book quickly into ashes. You didn't notice midorya quickly moving to get his water and put the fire out, your eyes was fixated on Bakugou. A smirk had formed on his face that made your heart sink into your stomach. A lump forming within your chest as you fought the urge to cry. He moved his arms and raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to make the next move. But you felt a hand around your arm.
"Y/N, you don't need this now. Let's just go-"
"No... " You say stepping up to Bakugou. Taking one last look at your destroyed book you turn your head back to him. "It's a shame, because the poem I was just writing... Was about you. " You say with a sad smile and a nod. He blinks back in surprise, his smirk growing larger than before. "That's not a good thing.. " You later say. Even though it was still in the works, even if you didnt get to finish it you felt your tongue burn. An unfamiliar sensation forming in your mouth. Usually you would feel it within your hand as you write, a soft glow transferring onto the words you'd write on the page. But now that feeling had made it's way from your throat and to your mouth.
And it's telling you to speak the fuck up.
You took a breath, looked him deep in the eye and let your mouth took the wheel.
"The following are true stories.
May 26th 2003 Aron Ralston was hiking, a boulder fell on his right hand. He waited four days, then amputated his arm with a pocket knife.
On New Year’s Eve, a woman was bungee jumping in Zimbabwe. The cord broke, she then fell into a river and had to swim back to land in crocodile infested waters with a broken collarbone.
Claire Champlin was smashed in the face by a five pound watermelon being propelled by a slingshot.
Matthew Brobst was hit by a javelin.
David Striegl was punched in the mouth. By a kangaroo.
The most amazing part about these stories is when asked about the experience they all smiled, shrugged, and said “I guess things could have been worse.”
So go ahead.
Tell me that you’re having a bad day.
Tell me about the traffic. Tell me about your boss. Tell me about the job you’ve been trying to quit for the past four years. Tell me the morning is just a town house burning to the ground and the snooze button is a fire extinguisher. Tell me the alarm clock stole the keys to your smile, drove it into 7:00 AM, and the crash totaled your happiness.
Tell me! Tell me!
Tell me, how blessed are we to have tragedies so small it can fit on the tips of our tongues?
You see, when Evan lost his legs he was speechless. When my cousin was assaulted, she didn’t speak for forty eight hours. When my uncle was murdered, we had to send out a search party to find my father’s voice.
Most people have no idea that tragedy and silence have the exact same address!
When your day is a museum of disappointments hanging from events that were outside of your control, when you find yourself flailing in an ocean of “Why is this happening to me?”, when it feels like your guardian angel put in his two week notice two months ago and just decided not to tell you, when it feels like God is just a babysitter that’s always on the phone, when you get punched in the esophagus by a fistful of life, remember that every year two million people die of dehydration so it doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty, there’s water in the cup.
Drink it, and stop FUCKING complaining.
Muscle is created by repeatedly lifting things that have been designed to weigh us down. So when your shoulders feel heavy, stand up straight and lift your chin – call it exercise. When the world crumbles around you, you have to look at the wreckage and then build a new one out of the pieces that are still here.
Remember, you are still here.
The human heart beats approximately four thousand times per hour.
Each pulse, each throb, each palpitation is a trophy engraved with the words “You are still alive”...
You are still alive...
Act like it."
When you felt the sensation cool from your lips and the tip of your tongue, Bakugou's eyes were wide. His smirk had fallen. Silence filled around you, even from Midorya. Everyone has seen and heard the whole thing. Just as you were about to walk back to your table to grab your things and leave, you hear a slow clap. Then another. Then another. You turn your head to see everyone clapping and cheering. You smile a little. Bakugou steps back and walks off with a smack of his teeth.
"Tch, whatever weirdo.. " He mumbles under his breath.
You walked over to Midorya smiling and he quickly gives you a hug. "That was amazing! The way you kept firing words at kachan was incredible! I never seen him so speechless like that! " He pulls away with a smile and a blush.
"Oh hehe! It was nothing really" You say forming a blush yourself, looking away shyly.
"I'm really sorry about your notebook though. I could buy you another one and bring it to you tomorrow! "
"Oh no it's okay! I have extras at my house-"
"Nope! It's my treat." He smiles and the bell rings again, making everyone pack up and ready for the next class. Midorya grabs his bag and hands you yours. Making your way back into the building he stops you for a second. "Hey, speaking of treat, d-do you think we could both head out f-for some ice cream after school? " He says with a heavier blush and fiddles with his tie. He always did looked cute when he blushed. You smile and giggle a bit.
"I would love to.. "
(Woah hey! First fanfic done! Hope you all enjoyed that!! 🤣💕)
#my hero academia#midoriya izuku#poetry#slam poetry#deku midoriya#mha fanfiction#mha#izuku x reader#mha bakugou
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The following day was exhausting - At least for the Upir whom had endured constant lectures from his bitch of a mother, only now did he realise that he was better off living alone, or with Peter and Caleb...But even that made his stomach turn, the thought of the boy had only made him afraid, and he didn't know why, everything before when they shared a special moment in the park had felt like a fresh new start for Godfrey, and for the boy, and finding Shelley had only added to the euphoria he had conjured that night, but all good things end eventually...
Lifeless stares upon the table had Roman attracting attention from his dear sister, whom sat opposite him, a small gentle smile had graced her features when she reached to softly stroke at his frozen hand. With a few flickering of his eye lids, he finally acknowledged his surroundings and his sweet sister's face before him, returning a tight lipped smile before stroking her bandaged fingers.
"Did you hear anything I said?" Came the cold, uptight voice of Olivia. Roman inhaled painfully and pulled himself off from the table, finally managing to look his mother in the face, giving her a simple shrug of his broad shoulders.
"Help you with shopping and grab a coffee along the way - Sure" He said, almost mockingly before giving her a sarcastic grin "Maybe whilst we're in town you can buy some tablets to keep your menopause stable, don't want you shit dumping everyone you fucking encounter" His tone had run dry and even Shelley had cowered when she witnessed the dark demeanour that had possessed him. His fists had scrunched before he turned on his heel. Olivia however were somewhat un phased by his attitude, rolling her eyes once he was finished degrading her. If it wasn't for the abuse she had given him, Roman would of been fine, but the restrictions she set about Caleb was already stating the obvious...She didn't want him being around him for too long anymore, and she damn well sensed what was going on between the two, which didn't benefit her at all. Life is a bitch...
The bell rung once the cafe door opened, alerting few people in the shop before they carried on with their everyday business. Roman's gaze was still empty, as though he was dormant on the whole journey with his mom. Olivia had finished around town and had taken the last stop at the cafe to buy a cake for Shelley, and some drinks to take home. Godfrey hadn't taken much notice to his surroundings, though something had seemed to be swift passing him, and the bell had alerted the room once more. Large eyes had shot back and caught just a glanced of the untamed curls...Caleb. Godfrey's gaze had been fixated out the window, only catching the strides of the boy, why was he avoiding him in return?? Did Olivia say something to him to further the prevention?
"Darling. Your coffee" The Upir's attention was broken off by his mother, lips forming a pout when he taken the coffee from the woman's bony hand, and making way to follow her back home. Of course it was always Roman's business whenever Peter was involved, and so he would eventually try to sort out a way to see Caleb again.
--------
Peter's decision to meet Caleb for the turning had warmed his heart - He missed the boy, and part of him made the wolf feel alive once more. Though he was hidden in the dark about the events that occurred between the boy and Roman, though it was probably best to keep him shut out at this point. As soon as he caught up with Caleb, he widened his arms and had a lop sided grin plastered over his features "Ayye" Came his introduction.
"You been okay? Missed ya" He added, bringing the boy into a small hug before pulling away and walking beside him, towards the trailer. There was something off when Rumancek read the boy's face, but as always, he didn't pry. "Happy new year. How is Shelley?" He asked.
bloodthirsty-hero:
Roman was way too invested with Shelley to even remotely divert his attention to whatever his uncle was saying, let alone see when the boy shortly leave with Norman…It was painful to cut their time together so fucking short, but the Upir knew that with Shelley now back, they could all spend more time together as a team, and at least it would give Peter some more company too - His attention was on Norman when he had let him know of his leave, and Caleb’s.
Godfrey gave the wolf a small tight lipped smile, his parted lips were just enough to indicate that he was going to say something more, but failed to, only letting out a simple, meekly “Catch you later, okay?” Then he turned back to his sister with a comforting brush of his hand.
It sucked - There was no real goodbye without the assholes surrounded them, ’assholes’ being Norman, Olivia and Pryce of course…But it incited Roman slightly due to not having his own personal conversation, something had stirred within him, making him think that words were spoken to his friend - The expression that Caleb left with was evident that his mood dropped, but Godfrey had other importance’s now to focus upon, and he didn’t want to seem selfish, not now.
“I have so much…to tell you” Shelley smiled, her eyes forming light tears as they began to trail down and adorn her rosy pink cheeks.
“Me too Shell…Soon as I get you home? I have something real important to say. But…It’s gotta stay between us, alright?” He said, his smile tugging back to his lips once more. Shelley only returned a small hug after this, feeling fatigued enough as it was to hold a conversation any longer. Before he could say any more, Pryce had entered the room, with Olivia by his side. His mother having that fake ass smile plastered on her solid plastic face, god he wished he could just punch and rearrange it - What did she fucking care for this poor girl, her daughter!?
“Shelley…I was so worried darling” She spoke, reaching out to touch her head before Roman could waver it away, rising from his previous position on the ground.
“Bullshit. You didn’t fucking mention her once” He retorted, causing Shelley to flinch and contort a bright expression into one of concern, and pain. “As per usual, you’re only ever buried in your own fucking ass - Either that or finagling your way in hemlock grove just so you can get what you want” His anger was vivid now, large eyes dilating as he grew closer to towering over his mother, yer Olivia had only shared the same rage from within, levelling up to her son.
“How dare you!” She spat, grabbing Roman’s throat with nimble, bony cold fingers. If looks could kill, then Olivia’s now would of shot down the whole fucking room. Shelley began to weep, hiding her face with her cloth wrapped hands.
“ENOUGH” Pryce roared, stepping in to diffuse the conflict between the two, although he was the smallest in the room, he had still managed to break them up, making Olivia’s tight deadly grip retract from Roman’s flesh. His eyes filled with disdain and hurt - He fucking hated her. Pryce had explain the traumatic events that would occur if there was any violence surrounding Shelley, and due to the lack of compassion around her, it was clear for them both to just end their little heated argument. She had composed herself shortly afterwards and was going to console him, only for the sake of Shelley, it seemed, but Roman turned to press a soft kiss to his sisters head, leaning into her ear -
“Don’t worry. Once you’re better - You can stay with me, and mom will be out of the picture” His words were only audible for her, yet Roman was too stubborn to let go of the talk of his bitch of a mother. Shelley remained silent, and Roman had made way for the exit - leaving the doctor and the deathcunt to resume their talk…
The Upir was calming from his anger only when he had entered the elevator, rummaging in his pocket for his phone, he wanted to at least send Caleb a text, yet something inside him knew he may of held some resentment from his argument previously and unload it on the boy….But he tried not to.
[Text - Caleb ]
Fucking hate my mom. She ruins and shits on everything, I literally hope when Shelley recovers, she can stay with us. I’ll figure out what I can do to get the fuck out of her reach. She talks of her care for Shell when she hasn’t mentioned her one bit. Anyway, guess I’ll see you soon? Thanks for tonight.
- Roman
He sent the text without re reading it, knowing he would make up for it whenever they would hang out again, and when the fireworks had lit up the night sky, emitting all different kinds of colours that adorned the young boy’s face, only then, did he not realise that this would of probably of been the last time he could remain so open, so sensitive and true to the one he fell in love with…
Happy fucking new year.
Caleb woke up the next morning feeling the full extent of his agitation. With the full moon coming in just a day, it seemed like a no brainer that he would be thoroughly affected by it. He was glad at least that he’d adjusted enough to not upchuck as much as he had before his first transition, but he contributed that more to the wolf growing inside of him when there hadn’t been one. Now Caleb could hardly remember what it had been like to be human – as if the wolf was always there with him. Meant to be there.
He checked his text messages to see that Roman had messaged him. Caleb pressed his lips together at the mention of Roman’s mother and the memory of everything that had been said to him the night previous suddenly came rushing back. There suddenly was nothing Caleb wanted to do more than to lay in bed face first and pretend the world wasn’t moving around him, but Caleb was aware enough to know, for once, that laying around the house alone whilst feeling bad for himself was not the answer. He needed some sort of interaction.
Peter came to mind, but Caleb realized Peter would probably notice something was wrong. Not that the wolf would harass him about it by any means, but being sad about Roman while around Peter kind of made him feel guilty. The fact that this rift wasn’t even created by Roman himself, for once, was even more frustrating. Caleb certainly didn’t want to cause more trouble than he already had and well, something about Olivia had always made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Like she was something inherently dangerous even though he wasn’t sure how or why beyond the obvious means of wealth and power in this small town.
Eventually, Caleb settled on treating himself to something at the coffee shop. He took the bus there, headphones placed in his ears as he tried to space himself out. There was something about being out in public alone though that made him feel weird and isolated despite being surrounded by people. Perhaps it was the glances at the scar upon his neck – a dirty reminder of what had happened in the fall. The winter chill was at least a comfort of passing time. Caleb had to make careful steps on the sidewalk to avoid frozen sheets of ice and the warmth of the coffee shop hit his flushed cheeks instantly.
After a moment of looking over the menu, Caleb finally decided to order a mocha. After paying for it with the bit of cash his father had left for him to use whilst they were gone, he stood off to the side as he waited for the barista to finish his drink. Eventually, she pulled him into conversation, asking him if he was in school while she frothed the milk. She suggested he come work there after he graduated before handing him his drink. He told her he’d think about it before he had turned to start to leave.
The sound of the bell above the door ringing shouldn’t have bothered him, but it was that partnered with a familiar smell that made him stiffen. Olivia had walked in first and of course Roman was with her. Caleb was aware that Olivia was aware that he was there, but the woman didn’t acknowledge him and once they were far enough from the door, Caleb made a point to duck his head and walk out as quickly as he could. He wasn’t sure if Roman had noticed him. After all, he’d gone about not knowing of his existence for the first few months of school, right? If not for Caleb running directly into him, they likely would have never talked. At least, that’s what Caleb told himself.
Caleb didn’t realize he was crying until he got to the bus stop a few blocks away. Sniffling mostly from distress but also from the cold. He checked the schedule on the pole of the bus stop and saw that another bus wouldn’t be coming for another hour. Great. Caleb decided he would walk instead, if only to ease some of the feelings he had bursting inside of him to dissipate into nothing in the cold. The mocha held him over, either way, keeping his insides warm enough that he could still feel his fingers enough to unlock the door. It was stupid of him to go out in a town like this and not expect to run into him. It should’ve been obvious, but Caleb had just been wanting to get away.
The rest of the day, Caleb spent trying to cope with the events of the morning. He exchanged a few texts with Peter about meeting tomorrow evening for full moon preparations and time moved on it’s own without Caleb much realizing or paying attention to it. Eventually, he fell asleep, dragging into the next day. His whole skin felt like it was itching. The process beginning the moment he opened his eyes. Caleb forced himself to shower, but stayed home until it was time to go to Peter’s trailer.
Caleb caught the bus as far out as he could go, meeting Peter there and walking the rest of the way to the cul de sac. Perhaps becoming a wolf for the night would wash him clean of his human anxieties. Caleb really hoped so.
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Take me into Rachel's mind through that interaction between Quinn and Sarah on Dust on every page. We see a little bit that she is non too pleased to see Sarah but she doesn't say much through Quinn and Sarah's interaction so if you don't mind can you give me what her POV was from the moment they spotted Sarah, right to the point where they part ways in the taxi? Love your seemingly well thought out answers
Yeah, so this POV switch was slapped together kind of quickly, so apologies in advance for the errors.
For the First Time I Had Something To Lose
The absolute last person that Rachel ever expects to run into on a relaxing Sunday afternoon date with Quinn is Sarah freaking Cartwright. In fact, she’s been quite confident that Sarah freaking Cartwright is literally allergic to New York City—why else would she have chosen to end her relationship with Quinn rather than fight like hell to keep her?
Not that Rachel isn’t incredibly grateful that Sarah had failed to keep her. But Rachel is not at all happy to see Quinn’s ex-girlfriend with her freaking doe eyes, nervous smile, and awkward wave, and she’s even less happy to hear the breathy quality of Quinn’s voice as Sarah’s name falls from her lips in stunned surprise.
“Hi, Quinn,” Sarah greets them with a shy grin. And, yeah—Rachel doesn’t like that at all. She instinctively steps closer to Quinn, silently staking her claim and hoping that this unfortunate exchange will be quick and (relatively) painless.
She’s not sorry in the least when Sarah’s smile slips as she’s forced to acknowledge her.
Rachel watches Sarah shift uncomfortably—and she should be uncomfortable after breaking Quinn’s heart—shoving her hands into her pockets as she states the obvious. “It’s been awhile.”
“Yeah,” Quinn agrees.
“You look good,” Sarah compliments, and Rachel clenches her jaw. It’s simply a statement of fact—an understatement, really, because Quinn always looks breathtaking—but Sarah Cartwright has no right to notice Quinn’s breathtaking-ness. And if Quinn even thinks about returning that compliment—
“What are you doing here?” is what Quinn says instead, but Rachel doesn’t miss the tension running through her girlfriend or the accusation in her voice. She frowns even more, wary of what that might mean.
Rachel remembers how heartbroken Quinn had been when Sarah had refused to even consider commuting to New York for her, instead ending their two year—well, twenty months, give or take—relationship, and she remembers how that heartbreak had eventually transformed into anger and resentment at having yet another person who was supposed to love her cast her away like yesterday’s garbage. Rachel had wanted to punch Sarah in the nose for hurting Quinn that way. Honestly, she still wants to punch her—or throw her over the edge of the bell tower—but at the same time, she really doesn’t want this unfortunate encounter to blow up into a rehash of things that are better left in the past.
God, she really hopes they’re in the past.
“Touring the bell tower,” Sarah explains, “which…we should probably…you know...see the view before we get kicked out for the next tour.”
It looks to Rachel like Sarah might be trying to make a tactful exit, and Rachel would like nothing more than to help her do just that, so when Quinn attempts to continue with her questioning, Rachel is quick to interrupt.
“We definitely shouldn’t miss the view.” Rachel reaches out to touch her girlfriend, hoping to pull her out of this horrible college flashback. “We can enjoy the fresh air while we catch up.” She grits out those last few words through her widest show-smile, hoping that they will, in fact, not be catching up at all but getting absorbed into the crowd already out on the balcony. “After all, how often does one get to stand up here?”
She hears Sarah mutter, “Once a year, I’m told,” but Rachel ignores her, steering Quinn out onto the balcony and into an open spot on the railing—hoping Sarah will just quietly enjoy the view from her own spot somewhere far away from them.
She should have known she wouldn’t be that lucky.
So Rachel is forced to stand there, staring out over her city with her hands closed tightly around the railing while she listens to Quinn make polite small talk with her ex-girlfriend.
So freaking polite.
It doesn’t have to mean anything, of course.
Quinn and Sarah have been over for years.
And really, Rachel shouldn’t begrudge Quinn a perfectly innocent encounter with an ex—and it’s not like they haven’t already run into a few of the other various women Quinn had dated in the past. Rachel herself is able to have perfectly amiable conversations with Peter Kendrick every time they run into each other. Quinn gets annoyed by them, of course—just like Rachel is getting annoyed with this one right now—but Rachel certainly isn’t harboring any lingering feelings for Peter, and there’s no reason to think that Quinn might be harboring any feelings for Sarah. Well—except maybe a bit of that old resentment for being dumped.
Really, Rachel is certain that any moment now, Quinn will inform Sarah how ecstatically happy she is with Rachel, and Sarah will be on her merry way back to—well, back to wherever it is that she came from.
But then Quinn asks, “Are you just here for the weekend?” and Rachel bites into her lip, bowing her head and tightening her fingers around the railing until her knuckles ache.
Why does Quinn even care how long Sarah is going to be here? Aren’t these tense, awkward ten minutes more than long enough?
“Actually, my advisor” Sarah begins tentatively, “you remember Professor Easterling?
“Yeah.”
“She recommended me for a position with Skidmore, Owings & Merrill as an architectural assistant.”
The name means nothing to Rachel, but Quinn apparently recognizes it if her testy, “In New York,” is anything to go by.
Rachel holds her breath, hoping for a denial from Sarah—a confession that she’s only here on some business conference or something.
“It obviously wasn’t my first choice,” Sarah says instead.
Rachel’s heart sinks at the confirmation that Sarah freaking Cartwright is apparently now living in New York City.
“Obviously,” Quinn sneers, and Rachel immediately lifts her head, recognizing the danger bubbling in Quinn’s tone. She instantly moves to stand beside her girlfriend, though her own emotions are all over the place right now. She’s upset that Sarah is here, angry on Quinn’s behalf because Sarah had once made Quinn miserable over the idea of even visiting this city only to end up living here now, annoyed with Quinn for standing here talking to Sarah at all, and feeling sick at the thought that she might have a reason to worry about why Quinn is still standing here talking to Sarah instead of taking Rachel’s hand and taking them home.
“I applied to every firm in Grand Rapids, but nothing panned out,” Sarah admits. “I couldn’t afford to turn down the opportunity.”
“Wow, that sounds familiar,” Quinn spits back.
Rachel crosses her arms defensively as she silently debates with herself whether she should put a stop to this now or let Quinn vent her old grievances. She knows better than most how volatile Quinn’s temper can be. Sometimes it’s better to let her explode and then cool down than it is to let her simmer for hours until she boils over.
“Quinn,” Sarah tries.
“So you’re living here now?” Quinn demands.
Rachel drops her gaze to the floor of the balcony, mentally counting to ten.
Quinn’s fixation on that fact is perfectly understandable, she assures herself. Sarah not wanting to live here is the biggest reason why they broke up.
Except why does Quinn still care why they broke up? She obviously didn’t belong with Sarah freaking Cartwright in the first place! It’s not like they wouldn’t have just broken up eventually anyway.
Right?
“I have a place in Queens,” Sarah reveals. “At least until I get through my internship and earn my license. Then I’ll probably reevaluate things.”
“That’ll take a few more years, right?” Quinn presses.
“Yeah, probably.”
“I thought you hated New York.”
“I do, but there’s a lot of competition for internships, Quinn. Sometimes you have to make compromises to get what you want.”
“I seem to remember you weren’t all that into compromises when we were together.”
“Can we not do this here?” Sarah begs.
Can they not do this at all? Rachel thinks testily.
“Quinn,” she finally interrupts, gravitating closer to Quinn. “This really isn’t the best time or place.” In fact, never and nowhere would be the best time and place. She really wants to grab Quinn’s hand and drag her out of here, but instead she hears herself asking, “Can we just enjoy being up here for awhile?”
Maybe Quinn can calm down a little now that she’s blown off some steam, and Sarah can just disappear back into the past where she belongs, and Rachel will stop wanting to toss her off the damned balcony.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn apologizes quietly, and for a moment, it appears as though she’s going let this go, but then she’s glancing back to Sarah with a frown. “I just really didn’t expect you to be living in New York. I practically had to drag you with me for even a weekend.”
“Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere else,” Sarah vows disdainfully. “But this is the most prestigious internship with decent pay that I could find.”
Rachel really should just bite her tongue—she knows that—but she can’t seem to stop herself from defending the city she loves. “I don’t know why you’re so disparaging of New York. It’s the greatest city in the world.”
“It’s dirty and noisy and smells like wet dog,” Sarah fires back.
Rachel opens her mouth to respond, but Quinn, sounding much more composed that she was a moment ago, points out that, “It’s got some great buildings though.”
“That’s the only saving grace. ” Sarah concedes with a slight smile.
Rachel hopes this will be the end of it—that they can all just go their separate ways and never have to see each other again. As it is, Rachel feels like she and Quinn need to have a potentially uncomfortable conversation about Quinn’s lingering grudge against her ex.
But then Sarah is making some observation about the building—how it used to be a courthouse—and Rachel would gladly tune her out completely except that she catches the name Stanford White, and she smiles a little in fond remembrance. “Oh, I know that name. He was murdered on the roof of the old Madison Square Garden over his dalliance with a chorus girl.” She can still recall her younger self dramatically relaying the story to Quinn on one of her many visits to New York—back when they’d both been young and bright-eyed and Rachel had been stupidly out of touch with her own burgeoning feelings. Rachel turns to Quinn with a tender smile, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You remember, don't you, Quinn?”
Quinn returns the smile with soft eyes focused solely on Rachel, and for a moment, Rachel feels settled again—until Sarah’s bitter, “I should have known,” intrudes on their moment.
Rachel glares at the annoying woman, letting her hand fall away from Quinn. “Pardon me?”
Instead of answering Rachel, Sarah turns her attention back to Quinn. “So how are you, Quinn? Are you still working at…HarperCollins, right?”
Unbelievably, Quinn chooses to respond to Sarah’s question like Sarah hadn’t just ignored Rachel entirely, and Rachel’s stomach begins to churn with anger all over again.
And okay. Fine. Jealousy, too.
Rachel can admit it.
She’s jealous of Sarah—the woman who’d once had Quinn’s heart; the woman who’d almost taken Quinn away from her for keeps; the woman who Rachel had irrationally disliked on first meeting for no other reason than that her presence was interrupting Rachel’s precious time with Quinn.
“She’s also finishing her first novel,” Rachel interjects with pride—and yeah, maybe she wants to rub Quinn’s success in Sarah’s face a little. Because Quinn is flourishing here in New York. With Rachel. “I expect her to be a published author by this time next year.”
“Rach, that’s… It’s still a work in process,” Quinn demures, attempting to downplay her achievements.
Rachel won’t allow her. “It’s amazing,” she brags.
“It’s okay,” Quinn dismisses with a shrug, pulling the proud smile right off Rachel’s face. She hates it when Quinn underestimates her own talents.
“So you’re still doing the writing thing?” Sarah asks with a slight laugh.
Well, that just pisses Rachel off! “It’s not a thing. Quinn is extremely talented.”
Quinn attempts to defuse her ire with a soft voice and a brush of her fingers against Rachel’s wrist, even though Rachel is certain that Quinn isn’t thrilled with how easily Sarah has always dismissed her writing.
“Well, yeah, but…I mean, it’s kind of a saturated market, isn’t it?” Sarah asks rhetorically. “And being an editor at a major publishing company isn’t something you should throw away for a hobby.”
“A hobby!” Rachel snaps. “Writing is Quinn’s dream. Her passion!”
But Sarah wouldn’t know anything about passion—being a soulless, pencil-pushing bore!
“Rachel,” Quinn warns, lifting her hand to Rachel’s back and rubbing it soothingly. “It is still kind of a hobby right now.”
Crossing her arms again, Rachel lets out an incredulous huff, staring at Quinn in disbelief. Did she—did she really just cave right in and kowtow to Sarah freaking Cartwright’s worthless opinion?
“Are you moonlighting as her publicist now or something?” Sarah asks with humor.
Okay.
That’s it!
“I’m her girlfriend,” Rachel announces heatedly, glaring at Sarah.
The instant gratification of watching all the humor (and the tiny bit of color that passes for her complexion) drain out of Sarah’s face is perhaps not something Rachel should be quite so giddy over—but she is.
She also receives a great deal of pleasure at Sarah’s pained, “You’re together?”
Rachel smiles in satisfaction, leaning further into Quinn’s touch against her back and standing just a little taller beside her girlfriend as she waits for Quinn to proudly confirm their relationship.
Instead, there’s a beat of silence before Sarah is spitting out an accusation. “So much for Rachel not swinging in your direction. God, I knew it, too! I knew she wasn’t just some high school crush you’d gotten over.”
Rachel’s smile curves a little more because—yes, she fully swings in Quinn’s direction and no, Quinn never got over her. And any second now Quinn is going to confirm that.
Any second.
Any.
Second.
“Sarah,” Quinn begins quietly, letting her hand fall away from Rachel’s back to seek out her hand instead.
Here it comes.
Rachel and I are blissfully in love and incandescently happy together, Rachel mentally prompts, slipping her fingers between Quinn’s in a familiar embrace as she waits for those words or some poetically similar version of them to fall from Quinn’s lips.
She’s still waiting when Sarah interrupts Quinn’s grand declaration—or so Rachel assures herself as her smile begins to slip and Sarah’s tearful voice drones on and on.
“You don’t have to explain it, Quinn. It’s none of my business anymore. I suppose I should tell you that I’m happy for you, but...I think you’ll understand why I can’t.”
What the hell does that mean? Rachel wonders frantically.
Because if Sarah can’t be happy for them because she still has designs on Rachel’s girlfriend—well, then, Rachel really might have to toss her off the building after all.
“Well, you’re still as unpleasant as ever,” Rachel observes defensively.
“And you’re still a bitch,” Sarah accuses, crossing her arms.
Oh, that’s it! Sarah Cartwright is so going over that railing, Rachel decides as she takes a bold step forward. “You little…”
“Rachel,” Quinn warns, holding Rachel back with a firm tug on their joined hands. “Just…stop.”
Rachel does, but only because actually throwing Sarah off the building would ruin Rachel’s very promising career. She could absolutely do it though—Sarah doesn’t look all that tough.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn says to Sarah, and for a moment, Rachel thinks she’s apologizing for Rachel’s behavior—which is just completely unnecessary, and she and Quinn will be having words about that later. But then Rachel’s heart is clenching and her stomach is twisting because Quinn’s next words make it clear that’s not why she’s apologizing.
“I know how this probably looks, but you have to know that what Rachel and I have now…it didn’t start until you and I were completely over.”
It’s technically the truth—kind of—but why should that even matter now?
Sarah ended things between them years ago.
Quinn has nothing to be sorry about.
“You know, I think you actually believe that,” Sarah muses sadly.
“It’s the truth,” Quinn vows.
Why do you care if she believes you? Rachel wants to scream, tightening her grip on Quinn’s hand.
“It’s a technicality.”
“You’re the one who ended things, Sarah,” Quinn growls, letting go of Rachel’s hand—and it feels like a part of Rachel just got ripped away.
She wraps her arms around her torso in a vain attempt to protect herself from the shards of Quinn’s temper, cutting into her heart as surely as if they were aimed directly at her and not at Sarah. She hears every accusation Quinn throws at her ex—born of wounds torn open as surely as if they’d happened yesterday—and Rachel suddenly has to wonder if Quinn was every really over Sarah at all.
Why didn’t Quinn tell Sarah about us right away?
Why is she still so defensive over all of this?
Why does she feel the need to apologize for moving on?
Why do I suddenly feel like I’m the consolation prize?
No.
No!
Quinn loves me.
She’s always loved me.
Except for the time when she loved Sarah.
Feeling sick, Rachel reaches out to touch Quinn, nearly begging, “Quinn. Maybe we should just go.”
Please.
“For once, Rachel and I can agree on something,” Sarah adds.
Rachel watches Quinn deflate, twisting her hands into her hair and inadvertently shaking off Rachel’s touch as Sarah’s name falls from her lips again.
Sweet Barbra, it hurts.
It hurts so much, and Rachel hugs herself again, turning to stare blindly out over the city while she purposely blocks out whatever else Quinn and Sarah have to say to each other. She doesn’t want to hear it. She just wants to turn back the damned hands of that clock above them to this morning and never come here—never have to see Sarah Cartwright again or remember how Quinn had felt about her.
Never have to feel like she’s some homewrecking mistress who needs to be shamefully hidden away and apologized for.
Rachel is vaguely aware of Sarah finally leaving. It feels like days have passed—was it just this morning when she’d believed that her relationship with Quinn was completely bulletproof?—when, in fact, it’s only been minutes. Quinn’s presence at Rachel’s side registers a heartbeat before her plaintive, “Sweetheart,” or the attempt at a gentle touch against her temple—a touch Rachel winces away from.
“No. Don't sweetheart me,” Rachel warns angrily, turning on Quinn.
She won’t be moved by the sad, guilty look in hazel eyes or the uncertain worrying of a full lower lip or even the remorseful, “I'm sorry.”
She won’t!
God, why does Quinn always have to look so pathetic when she knows she’s done something wrong? Why does she always have to make Rachel want to wrap her up in her arms and forgive her everything?
She won’t do it this time.
Not when she feels like she’d just watched her girlfriend choose her ex over Rachel.
Pulling her eyes away from Quinn, Rachel coolly points out that, “Our time is up,” before she walks away, heading for the stairs that will take them back down and far away from this blasted bell tower.
Hurt and anger spur her forward, demanding that she not look back, but after the first flight of steps, Rachel can’t seem to stop herself from checking to see if Quinn is behind her. She might be pissed off at her girlfriend right now and questioning where they stand, but she still loves Quinn and still worries about her well-being. If Quinn lands herself in the hospital from overexertion, then Rachel will be the one left feeling guilty for it.
There are a few people between them on the stairs, and Rachel moves aside to let them pass, eyeing Quinn critically as she gingerly takes the steps. “How’s your leg?”
“It’s fine, Rachel. So is my back,” Quinn answers readily.
Rachel doesn’t fully believe her, but she nods anyway, not in the mood to baby her girlfriend after what Quinn had just forced her to witness. She turns on her heel and continues down the steps, silently promising not to look back again but breaking that promise at least a half-dozen times.
As soon as Rachel exits the building, she begins hunting for a taxi to take them home, telling Quinn as much when she asks where Rachel is going
“We don't need one,” Quinn insists with a frown.
She should let Quinn walk to the subway and stand on a crowded train for thirty minutes just to punish her, but she worries about Quinn’s old injuries—injuries Rachel is partially responsible for—too much to do it. “Don't be ridiculous. You just walked 149 steps twice. We're taking a taxi back home.”
And, oh, there are those sad, pleading eyes again, but Rachel steels herself against them and Quinn’s beseeching attempt to persuade her into lunch.
“I'm not hungry.”
She is, but she isn’t about to be bribed into letting Quinn off the hook with something so trivial as food.
Rachel catches sight of a taxi barreling down the street and steps out to wave it down before being hastily jerked back onto the sidewalk by her panicked girlfriend. “Do you want to get run over?”
She bites back a bitter laugh, because she feels like she’s already been flattened into the pavement by a tractor-trailer with Michigan plates. “At least I saw that one coming,” she grumbles, walking toward the taxi which, despite Quinn’s interference, had stopped for them.
Rachel turns her face to the window as soon as she settles into the seat, ignoring Quinn as she slides into the car next to her. Her heart is still aching at the possibility that Quinn might still have feelings for Sarah. The hesitant brush of soft, cool skin slides against her little finger, but instead of the comfort Quinn’s touch usually brings her, it feels like fire against her skin—painful and unwanted—so she pulls her hand away and tucks it into her lap.
“I really am sorry, Rach,” Quinn says woefully. “I never expected to see Sarah there today.”
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah! Rachel is so sick of hearing Quinn say that name today.
“Yes, I believe you already made that quite evident.”
“Look, I know that was uncomfortable for you…for all of us…”
“All of us!” Rachel seethes, snapping her head to the right to glare at Quinn. All includes Sarah, and Rachel quite frankly doesn’t give a fuck about her right now. She does give a fuck that Quinn cares how uncomfortable anything might be for Sarah freaking Cartwright. “You…you just…you’re so… I don’t even want to talk to you right now,” Rachel spits, turning to scowl at the window again.
“I said I was sorry, Rachel. How many times do you want me to apologize?”
Until you actually mean it, Rachel silently fumes.
She feels Quinn’s fingers trail over her thigh, but she steadfastly ignores them until Quinn adds in her sexy, bedroom voice with a seductive, “Rach. Sweetie…”
How dare she think she can seduce me into forgiving her for…for practically ignoring me to play ‘let’s relive our relationship’ with her ex-girlfriend right in front of me!
Rachel reaches down to push Quinn’s hand away. “Don’t.”
“I can’t help it that Sarah is living in New York. I thought she’d be somewhere in Michigan by now.”
“Will you please stop talking about her?” Rachel begs, squeezing her eyes shut against the realization that Quinn really doesn’t have a clue why Rachel is so upset with her.
“You know, it’s not like we never run into your exes. We practically trip over Peter every time we go out,” Quinn complains petulantly.
“Are you seriously comparing the situations?” Rachel demands, frowning at Quinn. She’d never—not once since she and Quinn had gotten together—shied away from loudly and proudly declaring her feelings for Quinn, and she’d never apologized to Peter for falling in love with Quinn, for being with her, for being happier now than she’s ever been in her life.
“They’re the same,” Quinn maintains.
“They absolutely are not. For one thing, you actually like Peter now.”
And Rachel most certainly does not like Sarah.
“I really don’t,” Quinn stubbornly insists.
“The last time we ran into him, you spent forty minutes discussing the genius of Much Ado About Nothing.” Rachel had actually gotten so bored with the conversation that she’d needed to make up an excuse to pull Quinn away.
She knows that Quinn knows she’s right by the way hazel eyes flit away guiltily. “He was doing Shakespeare in the Park, and it’s a good play,” she defends weakly.
“You're completely missing the point,” Rachel practically screams. This isn’t about Peter or running into exes! Rachel doesn’t care that they’d had to see Sarah—well, she does, but that isn’t why she’s angry at Quinn. She cares that Quinn had acted like she owes Sarah something, like her being with Rachel is something to be ashamed of, like she’s still heartbroken that Sarah had left her and hurt that she’d possibly lied about her willingness to live in New York.
Anger flashes in Quinn’s eyes. “Then by all means, enlighten me, because I've already apologized repeatedly for creating that scene with Sarah, and I honestly don't know what the hell else you expect from me right now.”
“Driver, stop here,” Rachel demands, her heart aching at how incredibly, frustratingly obtuse Quinn is being right now. How can she not even realize what she’d just done—how she’d acted toward Sarah?
The car jerks to a stop, and Quinn stares at her in confusion. “What are you doing? Rachel, we’re two blocks from home.”
Rachel slams her hand against the door handle and pushes the door open. “I’m walking,” she growls over her shoulder as she shakily stumbles out of the taxi.
“Wait a minute,” Quinn calls after her. “I’m coming with you.”
Rachel wants to scream—scream before she starts to sob uncontrollably. She barely manages to keep her composure as she turns around and pokes her head back inside the door, stopping Quinn short in her struggle to get out. “If you put one foot outside of this car, Quinn Fabray, you’ll be sleeping in the spare room with Oliver for the next year,” she vows, on the verge of losing the battle with her tears.
“You can’t storm out of a taxi, Rachel,” Quinn reasons desperately.
Digging her nails into her palms, Rachel chokes down her heartbreak. “Watch me,” she challenges with her last bit of strength before turning to storm away, knowing if she stays here one moment longer she’s going to fall to pieces in front of Quinn, and there’ll be no putting her back together.
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