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mycurrent-hyperfixation · 2 years ago

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Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Eight (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)

Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill all of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?

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Masterlist

Word Count: 5.8K

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

A/N: Alright so I know that you all said that you like the longer word counts but I did have to cut this chapter in half cause it was getting ridiculously long. Like I'm talking 13K long. Also I was getting a bit behind with my writing and by splitting it I'll be able to upkeep my once a week schedule of posting. This also means that my plan of limiting myself to 10 chapters has gone out the window. Now I'm thinking it'll be about 12-13 (hopefully). My writing just really has a mind of its own sometimes. Anyway, no spoilers for the chapter ahead but I hope you enjoy it. I've nearly finished writing this series and I'm kind of getting super sad about it but all of your nice comments and likes make it all worth it. As always, love you all!

Corroded Coffin is the name on everyone’s lips this week after they blew the judges away at Fort Wayne’s Battle of the Bands. Their original song ‘Na Na Na’ saw an electrifying combination of a wild tempo, masterful guitar playing and barbaric lyrics that had the crowd going wild. After having played a cover of Metallica’s ‘Master of Puppets’ in the competition’s first round, their original song took the judges by surprise, solidifying their placement in the semi-finals. 

Eddie Munson was many things and easily excitable was one of them.

And yet today, as he drove down the familiar streets heading towards the Hideout, he was practically bouncing in his seat, the music from the radio playing at an almost ungodly volume level as he roughly banged his hands upon the steering wheel to the beat. The smile that was perched across his lips—so full and wide that it was starting to hurt his jaw—had been fixated in place since the morning, Eddie seemingly incapable of ridding himself of it. The further he drove, the more excited he became until his heart was practically beating out of his chest as he pulled into the parking lot of the Hideout, his stomach alight with butterflies.

He was giddy. There was simply no other word for it.

Because although he had visited the Hideout once a week for as long as he could remember, and although he had already been before specifically to see you play, this time it was different. This time it was so very different for one simple reason; you had invited him.

And whilst that thought in itself was enough to make him practically dance across the parking lot, it was the message that lingered behind it that had Eddie so happy. Inviting him meant that you wanted to see him again. Inviting him meant that the date had gone well enough that you might—if he was lucky—consider the possibility of a second one. Inviting him meant that, even after that awkward silence had lingered between you when he had pulled away from the kiss, even though everything had felt like it was normal when you had eventually put on Top Gun and Eddie had been unsuccessful in changing your opinion on the film, maybe everything had been fine after all.

So when Eddie eventually entered the queue of people that were all waiting in line just to see you, he did so willingly. He waited his turn and when he was eventually let inside, he carefully shuffled through the throngs of people—still slightly shocked at the size of the crowd—and made his way towards the front; towards you. Upon his entrance he saw only a sliver of your figure as you plugged your guitar into the amplifier beside you before his view was encumbered by someone stepping in front of him. But now, as he slowly found his way through, the image of you standing up upon the stage still managed to take his breath away; it still managed to make his soul leave his body.

And then your eyes were catching his, your lips upturning instantly into that smile that Eddie had grown to adore. It was wide and it was genuine and it was directed right at him; it was all his, and—he so hoped—it was because of him. He found himself smiling back just as enthusiastically as his hands connected with the stage and he leaned forwards, his smile only widening as you placed your guitar down, traversed the few steps that remained between the two of you and folded yourself downwards until you were practically eye to eye. As you crouched, your hands came around to hug your knees, and for just a moment Eddie couldn’t quite help himself from marvelling at the cuteness of the action. For now your face was inches from his, your smiles still mirroring each other’s.

“Hello there,” Eddie whispered into the space between you, and although the ruckus of the crowd was well and truly pertinent, for just a moment it was as if only the two of you existed within the room.

“You came,” you said.

“Of course I came.”

You shrugged, the curve of your lips changing ever so slightly to become something more toying.

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d get sick of seeing bands play that are better than yours.”

Eddie smiled coyly. He wanted to reach forwards and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to pull you into him. He wanted to tickle you until that devilish smile was wiped from your face and you were begging for him to stop. But he didn’t. Partly because you were still suspended slightly above him upon the stage and partly because he was surrounded by a very dense and a very tightly compact crowd of people. So instead he could do nothing other than lean slightly more forward until your lips were practically touching.

“Don’t get too cocky now, sweetheart. We’ve both made it into the semi-finals.”

The announcements had been made a few days prior, and Eddie—who had been practically glued to the porch step of his trailer with his eyes fixated upon the small hill where the postman would crest—had thought of little else since Corroded Coffin’s name had been on that list. And then, right next to it, had been your band’s name, and Eddie’s smile had somehow gotten wider.

But then there had been the date and the kiss and the screening of Top Gun where you had thrown popcorn at each other and Eddie had still found kernels in his hair days later, and everything else had just seemed to pale in comparison.

“Well everyone’s gotta do some charity work now and then.”

“You wound me,” Eddie said, pounding his fist into his heart and pretending to be hurt just to get that little laugh to spill from your lips. It did, and Eddie smiled.

“Y/N,” Robin called from behind you. You turned to look at her, flashed her a smile, and then turned quickly back to Eddie.

“Gotta go,” you said.

But before you pulled away, before Eddie had time to do anything other than continue to stare up at you, you were suddenly leaning down even further towards him, your hair falling slightly in front of your face. The kiss that you placed on his cheek was fleeting, barely there at all, and yet the touch and the warmth and the presence of your lips against his skin caught him wholeheartedly by surprise so that when you pulled away, Eddie found himself quite incapable of moving. And then you were leaving, that familiar scent of your perfume lingering in your shadow so that Eddie lingered along with it for just a little while longer.

It was only after the last fragments of you had left that Eddie finally realised someone was calling his name. He turned and found Gareth’s familiar face grinning up at him.

“Hey, man!” Gareth exclaimed as Jeff came into focus beside him. Eddie tried to pretend like he had remembered he invited them along, but then they were dragging him into the crowd and then a drink was in his hand and then there was the sound of your electric guitar as it filled the room, and Eddie got lost in it.

There was some Madonna and some Smiths and of course some Abba covers. Eddie enjoyed them all more than he would ever willingly admit. He watched as your fingers strummed across the strings of your guitar and as your hips swayed slightly to the music and as your lips brushed up against the microphone with each lyric. Eddie’s attention only ever waivered from you when Gareth or Jeff leaned over to say something to him or when he had been caught off guard at the sight of Dustin Henderson standing before him, apparently in the accompaniment of Steve Harrington who was also supposedly somewhere in the crowd.   

But through it all, Eddie found himself always coming back to you, the sight of you upon that stage still managing to take his breath away. So when everything started to turn to shit it seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.

Eddie had been watching you as he had been doing for most of the set as you played the last song of the night. It was a cover by some band he had heard on the radio, not an original like you usually did, and whilst this information disheartened him somewhat, he enjoyed the performance nonetheless. Gareth and Jeff were beside him, talking about something Eddie was too distracted to listen to, and maybe if you had not been so very captivating upon that stage he might have realised how conspiratorial their talking was, bending down to whisper in each other’s ears as they kept glancing over to the back of the staged area. Dustin had returned at one point, he was quite sure, but he left just as quickly, that signature smirk of his spread across his cheeks that in hindsight should have worried Eddie more than it did.

But then the song was finishing as the last few notes from your guitar reverberated around the room, the crowd’s cheers overpowering it. And you were smiling back at all those people just like you always did and Eddie could do nothing but bask in its glow. He barely noticed when the stage lights dimmed or when the crowd began to trickle out.   

It was Gareth who brought him out of his reverie, a wide grin plastered across his features as he hastily made his way towards Eddie.

“We did it, man,” Gareth said, and by the way he was looking around and lowering his voice, Eddie couldn’t quite help the furrow of his brows.

“Did what?”

And then it was Gareth’s turn to furrow his brows, rolling his eyes slightly as he quite unsubtly moved the flannel of his shirt to the side to show Eddie the item tucked into the belt of his jeans. It all seemed to happen so fast after that so that later, when Eddie replayed the series of events over and over in his mind, he still wasn’t quite sure that he had remembered it right.

There had been your notebook hidden under Gareth’s shirt. There had been the choked cough that had struggled its way out of Eddie’s throat in surprise, his eyes going wide as he saw the item. There had been Eddie’s quick fingers as they snatched the notebook from Gareth, and then Gareth’s subsequent confused expression.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie hissed, looking up quickly to where you were talking with Meg on the stage.

“We were just talking about this! You said you were struggling with that chorus for the new song at band practice last week so Jeff thought we could look around in that chick’s book for some ideas.”

Although Gareth wasn’t speaking all that loudly and although there was still a low hum of conversation that filled the room as people continued to leave, Eddie so wished that Gareth would just shut up. He was sweating now, his heart beating so violently fast. There were too many people around him, too many people that he knew and that you knew. Too many people that would recognise the book that Eddie was currently holding to his chest.

The notebook.

In all honesty he had forgotten he was holding it, but now, as he gripped it between his sweating palms it was as if it was a flare shot high into the sky that would lead you back to all of his deceptions. Eddie looked up towards you again, his eyes going wide when your gaze met his. You offered him a kind smile and Eddie tried to return it. But the slight furrow in your brow showed that you weren’t convinced. You excused yourself from your conversation and traversed the last few steps to the lid of the stage where you gently jumped down from it.

Eddie thought it quite likely that he might pass out.

He shoved the notebook back at Gareth.

“Put it back where you found it,” he hastily said, trying to keep his eyes on your positioning but losing you in the crowd that was still leaving.

“What the hell, man? I was just trying to help.”

“By what? Stealing her lyrics?” Eddie was angry now, and he regretted the harsh tone that he uttered his words in if only because it seemed to aggravate the situation more.

Eddie looked up again, and there you were, mere steps away from him.

He could tell it was going to happen before it did.

Because Gareth wasn’t facing towards the stage. Gareth hadn’t seen your slow approach through the crowd. Gareth did what he was so very good at doing, what Eddie loved so much about him; Gareth tried to help. But he was angry now too. Angry at Eddie’s reaction. Angry that Eddie clearly hadn’t been listening when they had discussed this very plan only moments before. And so Gareth did what Eddie had always known him to do; he opened his big mouth.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing? I was just trying to help you finish the songs for the competition so you didn’t have to date that chick anymore.”

Eddie stood witness to it all.

He stood witness as you halted in your tracks. As that beautiful, lovely smile of yours fell from your face in an instant. He stood witness as your posture stiffened, as your mind began whirring, as the pieces of the puzzle all began to fall into place.

And then, as he continued to look in your eyes, he saw more.

He saw the confusion and the apprehension and the denial of it all. There was the contemplation, the replaying of what you had just heard and the subsequent analysis of it. Then, finally, there was the disbelief, the anger, the acceptance. And behind it all, the sadness. It flooded your features, welled behind your eyes, consumed your entire being until it was all that Eddie could see standing before him. The sight broke his heart.

“Y/N-” he tried to say, but then you were stepping forwards, the anger now battling with the sadness so that the glare that you directed up at him betrayed tears behind your eyes. He hadn’t known what he had been expecting from the situation; maybe for you to run, maybe for him to have to chase you. But you stood unrelenting before him, and Eddie begun to realise that this version of events was worse, so much worse. Because instead of the sight of your tears, he was instead met with a glare of hatred so very powerful and so clearly directed right at him that for just a moment it was Eddie that felt like crying.

“Tell me it’s not true,” you whispered and yet still there was a slight crack in your voice.

Eddie thought about it. He considered lying, he considered the option of simply denying it all, of playing it off as just some joke. And maybe if he could do so convincingly enough, you would believe him. You would believe him and things would go back to how they used to be; to the smiles and the laughter and that one wonderful kiss the two of you had shared.

But as he looked down upon you and saw the slight sheen across your eyes, he knew he could not do it. You deserved the truth. You deserved something better than this; better than him. So Eddie continued to stand there and he continued to say nothing. Because he could not quite bring himself to admit it all to you, to see that sheen in your eyes turn to tears, to see the hatred behind your eyes solidify.

In the end his silence only acted as his confession. In the end it was all you needed to know the truth of it all.

A singe tear escaped from your eye and trickled down your cheek. Eddie watched it, his heart only breaking further. But then your hand was coming up, the movement of it a blur as it rushed towards his face, the palm of your hand connecting with the skin of his cheek. And it hurt. It hurt both in the sense that his cheek was now stinging and in the sense of what it meant. The slap was an ending; it was a conclusion, a consequence, a culmination of everything that Eddie had done. And as much as it hurt, he deserved it all, he thought as his gaze remained unwavering upon you.

There were tears now as they began to run freely down your cheeks. You did not hide them as you continued to glare up at Eddie and the sight of them had Eddie’s voice returning to him all at once. For although he had undoubtedly ruined everything, you deserved an explanation or an apology or anything at all that he could give you.

“Y/N, I-”

“I trusted you.”

Eddie expected the words to be venomous, but instead they were defeated, falling from your lips in barely a whisper. You were right, and that was what hurt the most. You had placed your trust in him and he had betrayed that trust. You had told him about your past, confided in him about the pain that you had hidden away. And he had turned around and gone and done the very same thing to you. He was just as bad as that guy from the basketball team. He was just as bad as Tommy H, and the thought made him repulsed by himself.

“Y/N, please, I can explain-”

But what was there to explain? You knew the truth, maybe not the whole of it, not the part where Eddie had grown to adore you, to cherish you, to think of nothing but the curve of your jaw and the softness of your lips whenever he was alone. You knew not of the way that you took his breath away every time he saw you or of the way his heart practically jumped out of his chest whenever your skin so happened to even brush against his.

And although Eddie knew that it might do nothing, although he was quite well aware that there was a very real possibility that you would only ever look upon him now with that same hatred in your eyes, your lovely smile merely a memory in his mind, he decided he would still try. But then before he could continue, before he could find the resolve to confess to you the very depths of what was in his heart, you were leaving. You were running now, running away from him as your hand came up to capture a sob that left your lips.

Eddie tried to follow. He thought maybe of grabbing your wrist or wrapping his arms around you as he had done in the diner and not letting go until you had heard everything he had to say. But his hands stayed by his side as you escaped and he made no move to follow, partly because he would always be at the whim of what you wanted, even if what you wanted was to get away from him, and partly because the figure of Steve Harrington was stepping in front of him now, blocking the last fleeting view that Eddie had of you before you pushed the back door of the Hideout open and left.

Eddie looked up and quickly came to realise that the air in the room was just as tense as he felt. The crowd had long since gone, the only figures remaining those he knew. There was the rest of your band still standing upon the stage, some trying to rush after you and some glaring venomously at him. There was Gareth and Jeff standing beside him, a bit further away now, having had at least enough common sense to look partly guilty as their gazes remained fixed to the floor. There was Steve Harrington standing before him and Dustin Henderson standing by his side, a look of concern crossing the boy’s features as he continued to look between Steve and Eddie.

“What did I tell you, Munson?” Steve said, his voice seething with anger.   

Eddie thought to himself that if Steve Harrington were to hit him he would not fight it. Because maybe the pain of getting punched might, for just a moment, quell the pain in his heart. But Steve did not swing, and somehow, that was worse.

Eddie collapsed into the chair that sat beside him, his hands coming up to cradle his face as he tried to hide the tears that threatened to spill. And although he could tell that everyone in the room was looking at him, Eddie couldn’t quite bring himself to care, too busy reimagining that look of hatred that had crossed your features as you had stared only at him.

---

One expects many things from having their heart broken.

There is of course the expectation that one will secrete copious amounts of tears. There is the expectation that one will consume all manner of unhealthy food, for maybe the deliciousness of junk might just distract the mind from the sadness that consumes it. There is the expectation that one will remain immobile for long periods of time, most commonly in a laid-back position and most commonly done so upon a bed or a couch that is hopefully also in close proximity to a television.

Of course, all these expectations came to fruition in the days following that fateful night at the Hideout. There was the inhalation of several pints of ice-cream, paired with the frequent and continuous viewings of whatever films Steve or Robin happened to bring over. There were the tears which fell so consistently and yet so sporadically so that, along with the aches of heartbreak, you were also plagued by the throbbing of a headache for most of your waking moments.

Yet there was one expectation that did not materialise, and it was somehow the lack of it that hurt all the more. For when one is betrayed in such a manner as you had been, you would expect there to be some semblance of an apology, or at least an attempt at one. And yet as you had lain upon the couch or your bed or—on a few occasions—the floor, only ever moving to fulfill a basic need to eat or relieve yourself, there had been nothing. Not a single phone call or a knock on the door that had not opened to find Steve or Robin on the other side.

You did not want to see him. In truth, you would not know what to do if you opened the door and it was Eddie standing upon its threshold. The sight of him would pain you, you were quite sure. For whilst you had so missed the sight of his unruly hair and the smell of his cheap cologne and the sound of his infectious laughter, when you thought of him now you thought only of those words that you had heard leave Gareth’s lips at the Hideout, and suddenly you couldn’t quite distinguish what had been real and what had been an act. It had all felt so genuine with Eddie whenever you had been within his presence; it had all felt so easy with him so that now even the fondest of memories that you tried so desperately to cling onto still brought tears to your eyes.

When you eventually did leave the confines of your house on the rarest of occasions—usually forcefully pulled out of it by Robin or having dragged yourself begrudgingly out of bed to head to work—it was so painfully easy to avoid Eddie Munson. In the end, it made you wonder how you had ever met him in the first place, and the thought only brought with it a fresh bout of tears.

So when you pulled up in the carpark of the competition’s venue, you did so with shaking hands, ragged breathing and a heart that was apparently trying its hardest to break itself out of the confines of your chest. Because there, only a few feet away from you, was the familiar sight of Eddie’s van, and the knowledge that you would undoubtedly have to see him again hit you all at once. But upon closer inspection, it became apparent that the van was empty.

The feeling of something touching your shoulder had you jumping in your seat, pulled from your reverie as you whipped your head around to find Robin looking at you. And whilst you had expected to find a look of sympathy or empathy or pity behind her eyes, instead you found only comfort. She was smiling at you, something devilish in the upturning of her lips so that you felt the corner of your own mouth begin to quirk upwards.

“Alright, listen up,” Robin spoke, grasping the attention of all of the girls within the car as Meg and Vicki leaned forwards from their places in the backseat.

“When we leave this car,” Robin continued, her voice just as firm. “I don’t want to hear a single thing about Eddie fucking Munson unless it involves the words ‘annihilate’ or ‘destroy’. Because that’s what we’re about to do to their pathetic little band.”

The curving of your lips had well and truly become a smile now as you looked upon the girl beside you, so invigorated and passionate as she spoke.

“We’re going to go in that damn building and we’re going play the best we’ve ever played and we’re going to get into the finals whilst Eddie Munson weeps from the audience because he’s realised he’s never going to be as good as us. And then we’re going to go home and get some damn milkshakes because we deserve them.”

A laugh escaped your lips now and the sound of it surprised you slightly as you came to realise that it was the first time you had laughed in well over a week.

“Have you thought about getting into motivational speaking, Robin? You’re surprisingly good at it,” you said with a smile, reaching over the centre console to grasp Robin’s hand within your own and squeeze it in thanks.

And then all of you were laughing as you finally exited the car, grabbing your instruments from the confines of the boot. As you began the walk over to the venue, you were surprised when Meg looped her arm within your own, not used to such displays of intimacy from the girl. But you were grateful for the touch, the feeling of her solid form beside you grounding you somewhat.

She leaned in close to you and whispered, “If he tries anything I will literally kick his ass.”

You couldn’t quite help the bark of laughter that escaped your throat.

“Thanks, Meg, but I think I’d rather we didn’t get disqualified for assaulting another contestant.”

“Well if you change your mind, just say the word.”

The hallway backstage was eerily quiet when the four of you entered, the usual ruckus made by the other bands no longer resounding throughout the space. With the semi-finals seeing only three bands still competing, this should not have come as such a shock, and yet the silence still managed to unsettle you as you made your way towards the green room.

Your walking was slow, hesitant even as Meg’s arm still remained wrapped within your own, your grip upon her tightening the further you went. For you knew that as soon as you entered the green room he would be there, and you could feel your hands beginning to shake at the thought. Your breath hitched in your throat as you crossed the threshold into the room, and although you knew you should have kept your gaze upon the floor, you couldn’t quite help yourself from instantly scanning the room.

There he was, draping himself lazily over a chair in the corner as he strummed absentmindedly at his guitar in his lap. A cigarette was perched between his lips, the end unlit and yet the stem drooping slightly as if he had been chewing upon it. He looked up as you entered, and as he did so the finger that had been about to strum the strings of his guitar fell slightly, causing a very off-key note to resound throughout the room. A deep blush arose upon Eddie’s cheeks as all eyes in the room turned towards him, but his gaze was still locked with yours. You felt like turning away, the intensity of his stare somehow both oddly comforting and slightly disconcerting, but you refused to give him the satisfaction by doing so. So you held his gaze until it was him that looked away, your head held high and your back straight even though all you felt like doing was turning right back around and leaving.

If there was a hint of sadness behind Eddie’s eyes, you chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, you made your way to the opposite corner and unslung your guitar case from around your shoulders. You could feel Eddie’s gaze return to you as you sat down and begun to tune your guitar, trying to pay him no mind and yet struggling to do so for you could feel the heat and the emotion and the unrelenting ferocity behind his stare so very clearly. It made you want to shiver, but you refrained from doing so.  

And then, as if the world had decided that you had not suffered enough, the third band still competing made their way into the room, the familiar sight of a cocky and condescending smirk entering with them. At the sight of it, you felt like screaming, but resigned yourself to a simple eyeroll and an annoyed grumble.

“Well if it isn’t my favourite groupies,” the boy called.

You couldn’t quite be bothered with a response and so chose not to provide one. Instead you simply continued tuning your guitar, your eyes downcast towards the tuning pegs. But the boy, whether he noticed your unwillingness to converse and decided to ignore or was simply too consumed in his own world to care about your silence, continued.

He did so by whistling.

“There’s more tension in here than a sinner in church. I’m glad to see you’re preparing yourself for losing, it’ll make it easier when it happens.”

The boy made his way towards you, throwing himself quite unceremoniously down into the seat beside you. You felt like responding now, although you refrained from releasing the string of expletives that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

“Or is it something else?” the boy continued, flicking his gaze between you and Eddie. “A lover’s quarrel? Trouble in paradise?”

Your fingers had stilled over the strings of your guitar, your hand gripping the stem so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You were trying not to engage, biting the inside of your cheek so hard that you tasted blood, and yet the boy would not relent. He leaned closer now, his breath tickling your neck so that you felt like recoiling away from him.

“Is he not treating you right? You know I could make you scream if you let me.”

You stood up at the same time that Eddie did, and for just a moment your gaze flickered over to him. He was seething with anger, his breathing short and ragged as his eyes remained fixated on the boy still sitting next to you. By his side, his hands were clenched into fists, the skin on his knuckles pure white. You had never seen Eddie so angry before—had, in all honesty, never imagined him capable of reaching such a level of hostility—so that you were altogether quite unsure of what would happen if the situation continued as it was. So you tore your gaze away from Eddie and turned to face the boy once more.

“Do you have a mental deficiency?”

Whatever the boy had been expecting you to say, that was certainly not it.

“What?” he scoffed.

“Do you have some sort of intellectual deficiency that makes it harder for you to understand others?” you repeated.

The boy scoffed again, looking over to his bandmates who were snickering by the door.

“No,” he eventually said.

“Oh, so you do know the meaning of the word ‘no’ then. I thought maybe something was getting lost in translation since you keep seeming to not understand me when I politely try to tell you to fuck off.”

Mike, Jeff and Gareth joined in on the snickering now, clearly trying and failing to hide their laughter as the boy turned his venomous gaze towards them.

“I am not your fucking groupie. I am a contestant in this competition, the same as you. And I know—god forbid—it must be such a shocker for you to have to compete with the likes of a woman since you seem to have the mental capacity of a caveman. But at this point your sexism is just stupid. Are you just ignoring the fact that my band has scored higher than yours in every round so far?”

The boy adjusted himself in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. The roll of his eyes left his gaze casting down to the floor, and you smiled slightly in triumph.

“So if you could please try your absolute hardest to do what every other band in this competition has seemed capable of doing and mind your own fucking business, that would be great.”

Without another word, you leaned down, moved your chair slightly over before sitting back down, pretending to return to the tuning of your guitar. In reality, your hands were shaking slightly and your heart was pounding out of your chest, but your act of indifference seemed to have the desired effect as the boy grumbled something under his breath, stood up, and defeatedly crossed the room over to where his bandmates were now outwardly laughing at him.

Eddie’s gaze burned your skin as you tried your hardest to keep your eyes fixated upon your guitar. And yet, as if something was drawing you right to him, you could not seem to stop yourself as your gaze flickered upwards for just a second. Eddie was still standing although his posture was more relaxed now. There was the slightest upward curve to his lips, although what semblance of a smile he was sporting never seemed to reach his eyes. For as you looked at him and as he continued to stare unwavering at you, there was nothing but a distinct sadness—something almost guilty—that was staring back.

In the end you had to turn away abruptly, something you refused to acknowledge bubbling up in your throat. And as you finally resumed the tuning of your guitar, the heat of Eddie’s stare lingered.

---

Taglist:

@alicetweven @juggernort @theh3aven @manamitoyota @mimiluvsualot @cherrypieyourface @kaqua @c0untryclub @goldencherriess @emotionaldreamer @givemethesleep @milkiane @miscreantsnopossoms @legendaryfestsoul-blog

Series Taglist

@grungegrrrl @thirddeadlysin @boomitsallie1 @renaroo123 @wordsthatwaterflowersinyoursoul @annnnn91 @bakugouswh0r3 @aivilovio @wannabewiedzma

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #season 4 stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #joseph quinn #Joe Quinn #joseph quinn x reader

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years ago

Note

10 for the hug prompts with JonMartin? 🥺

touches prompt list

10 - hiding their face in the other’s neck

a no-fears au where jon and martin are in an established relationship! cw for nausea and a brief mention of vomiting (doesn't actually occur)

Jon doesn’t do roller coasters.

It is not, despite what Tim says when he thinks Jon isn’t listening, because he’s a, quote, ‘old man at heart’ and doesn’t know how to have fun. In theory, Jon is actually rather fond of roller coasters. He’d watched a documentary once about the design of them, and it had been rather fascinating.

It’s not because Jon doesn’t like roller coasters. It’s…

Well. It’s probably more accurate to say that roller coasters don’t like him. Specifically, his sense of equilibrium and his digestive system. Pills help somewhat, if he remembers to take them, but the fact of the matter is that he’s much more likely to leave the ride with a feeling of intense nausea than of exhilaration. He just… gets motion sick. No way around it. He always sits in the front seat of cars, ensures that he’s in a forward-facing train seat at all times, rarely travels by boat, and… avoids roller coasters.

The fact that he is currently standing in the queue for a particularly large and particularly frightening-looking roller coaster is not, therefore, due to his overwhelming love for them. It is instead entirely due to his overwhelming love for the man standing next to him, eyes bright and excited as he explains the history of this particular roller coaster. His hand is warm and soft in Jon’s, and their clasped hands swing absently back and forth as they slowly inch forward in the queue. His curls are a shock of auburn against the sky, and when he laughs and squeezes Jon’s hand, Jon forgets his anxiety entirely for a moment, lost in a wave of affection and fondness.

“—and because it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of the ride,” Martin says with a wide grin, “it’ll be running backward today! Well, all season, I- I suppose, but we’re here today, so…”

Jon has never been on a roller coaster that’s traveled backward. It does… not sound appealing.

“That’s… very exciting,” Jon says with a smile, trying to make the words sound as genuine as possible. Because he is a coward. Or, perhaps, just very in love. Maybe both.

It’s just… Martin had been so excited when he’d dropped the amusement park tickets in front of Jon a few weeks ago. And in the four months or so that they’ve been dating, Jon has found it increasingly hard to say things that will cause that wide, unabashed smile on Martin’s face to dim even in the slightest. So Jon had discretely taken several motion sickness pills before they’d left that morning and had told himself that there were plenty of other things to do at an amusement park besides roller coasters and spinning rides and other things that make it their personal mission to tie Jon’s stomach into knots.

And then Martin had spent the entire train ride rambling about the various roller coasters and how he’d always wanted to go to an amusement park but he’d never been able to find the time or the money before and how he’s never been on a roller coaster but they look so fun, and Jon just… hadn’t been able to tell him.

It’ll be fine, he tells himself as they finally reach the front of the queue, the brightly colored cars sitting empty in front of them. It’ll be… completely, totally fine. Nothing to worry about.

They sit a few rows from the front. The click of the restraints makes Jon’s stomach squeeze with nerves, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t realize that he’s gripping the bar in front of him with white knuckles until Martin says gently, “Hey. Is… everything okay?”

No, but it’s certainly too late to change my mind now, Jon does not say.

“Yes,” Jon says, loosening his grip with considerable effort. It’s fine. “Just… b-been a while since I was on one of these.”

Technically not a lie.

“Oh!” Martin gives him a soft smile that makes his heart stutter in his chest. “Well, it’ll be a… new experience for both of us then, I suppose.”

The car jerks into motion, and Jon’s hands tighten instinctively on the bar again. It’s a… disconcerting effect, to be moving backward rather than forward, and one that Jon is decidedly not fond of. They exit the staging area and begin to climb up the first of the many, many hills Jon had eyed warily from their place in the queue. Jon looks straight ahead and does not look down and tries to breathe through his nose.

A warm hand covers his, and Jon looks over to see Martin watching him, that same soft smile on his lips. Martin squeezes gently, and Jon relaxes, just a fraction.

Then, the car tips over the peak of the hill and begins to accelerate, and Jon’s world blurs into a mess of colors and sensations.

The only part of the ride that Jon enjoys is the fact that it’s over quickly. By the time the car rolls to a halt—after a terrifying sequence of loops and drops and harsh curves and tight spirals—Jon feels as if his insides have been scooped out, stuffed in a washing machine, tumble dried, and then pushed back into him at all the wrong angles. Martin’s hand is still gripping his, somehow, and it remains there as they exit the car and make their way down the ramp and into the main thoroughfare. Jon’s legs feel boneless, like they’re made of jelly, and he is deeply afraid that if he opens his mouth, he is going to empty the contents of his stomach onto the pavement below.

Gentle hands are on Jon’s shoulders then, and Jon finds himself guided onto a metal bench just a few meters away from the exit ramp. Jon tries to protest that he’s fine—they have limited time here and he doesn’t need to take a break—but his stomach rolls and he pinches his lips shut before he manages to form a single word. When a hand settles on his upper back and presses down gently, he finally gives in to the urge to bend over and tuck his head between his knees in an effort to alleviate some of the lingering vertigo.

“Breathe, Jon,” Martin says, and Jon does. He takes a few deep breaths, and when a particularly powerful wave of nausea overtakes him, he can’t help the groan that escapes him. “I know,” Martin says softly, moving his hand in soothing circles on Jon’s back. “Just keep breathing, Jon. We can get some water in a bit, just… for now, let’s sit.”

Jon is too nauseous to be properly embarrassed by the coddling. That situation changes quickly as the minutes pass and Jon’s stomach begins to settle. After what must be nearly ten minutes, the nausea has faded entirely, but Jon keeps his head between his knees so he doesn’t have to look at Martin’s face.

“Feeling any better?” Martin prompts, and Jon lets out a slow breath. He nods once, and—with the help of Martin’s hand on his arm—straightens slowly, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground as he does so.

“Sorry,” he says, so quietly he isn’t sure Martin can hear him over the din of the crowd.

“You don’t have to apologize for- for feeling sick,” Martin says. He rubs a thumb against Jon’s arm and says, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I- I didn’t think… it would be this bad?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon sees Martin give him a look that very clearly expresses his skepticism.

Jon sighs and puts his head in his hands again. “I just… didn’t want to disappoint you, I suppose.”

Martin is, of course, sharper than Jon gives him credit for sometimes. “Because I said I’d never had the chance to go on a roller coaster before?”

Jon nods miserably. “I-in my defense, I thought you would start with something significantly less… gravity-defying.”

“Jon,” Martin says, kindly and patiently yet with a chastising edge to it. “You could have waited by the exit.”

“I—I didn’t…” Jon feels the tips of his ears grow warm. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Oh,” Martin says, his voice pitched a touch higher than normal. “That’s… um, r-really sweet, actually.”

Jon is glad that Martin can’t see his face because he’s sure whatever expression would have crossed it just then would have been utterly sappy and mortifying.

“B-but I—I don’t want you to make yourself sick on my account,” Martin hastens to say. “There are loads of other things to do here. W-we don’t have to ride the roller coasters.”

Jon uncovers his face and looks at Martin. “But you want to ride the roller coasters.”

Martin worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he says, “I… also want to spend time with you, Jon. D-doing things we both want to do, not… not just me.”

Jon stares at Martin and thinks, not for the first time, that he loves him. But it’s still too early to say it, probably, and he’s certainly not going to do so sitting on a sticky metal bench surrounded by children and tired-eyed parents. So all he says, in the end, is, “If… if you’re sure.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand in his and squeezes gently. “I am.” Then, he gives Jon a wide, soft smile that has Jon’s stomach twisting all over again. “So. What do you do at amusement parks, then?”

Jon flushes. But Martin doesn’t laugh at him when he mumbles that he’s actually quite fond of carousels. Instead, he takes Jon’s hand and walks with him across the park—staying away from the more crowded sections, stopping to buy some horrendously overpriced bottles of water on their way—until they’re standing in front of the carousel, painted in lovely pastel blues and yellows.

Jon, for a moment, feels self-conscious and more than a bit childish. But then Martin squeezes his hand and says, without a hint of teasing, “So, what animal do you prefer?” and the tension in Jon’s shoulders melts away in an instant.

Jon learns that Martin likes the classic horses, manes painted gold and plastic saddles a bright cherry red. (And Martin is entirely unsurprised to find that Jon chooses the cat, every time.) He learns, as they continue to explore the amusement park, that Martin likes caramel apples but hates how they get stuck in his teeth. (He purchases one anyway, rolled in peanuts and little rainbow sprinkles, that gives Jon a toothache just looking at it.) He learns that Martin does not appreciate his explanation that the monsters on the haunted house ride are ‘just dummies’ and ‘obviously fake’ and ‘really, Martin, that’s not even the correct number of bones in a human skeleton.’ (Though he secretly treasures the way that Martin clings to his side in the car and hides his face in Jon’s neck, his curls tickling the sensitive skin just underneath Jon’s chin.)

And Martin, apparently, learns that Jon is strangely good at midway games.

“You know those things are totally rigged, right?” Martin says, staring at Jon in disbelief as he tries and fails to adjust his grip on the frankly enormous plush teddy bear the midway worker had begrudgingly surrendered to him. And the medium-sized plush cat he’d won earlier. And the dozen or so little plushies and trinkets and accessories he’d acquired along the way. “You’re not supposed to be able to win.”

“Yes, well.” Jon gives up on trying to find a comfortable way to carry his prizes and extends the massive teddy toward Martin. “I suppose I’m just… lucky.”

He is certainly not going to admit that he spent a good three days researching what to do on a carnival date, came to the conclusion that it would be romantic to win an enormous stuffed animal for Martin, and committed himself to memorizing which games were easiest to win and what strategies he should employ in order to have the best chance at success. That would be… well. A bit much, he thinks. Best to just… not mention it.

Martin carries the teddy all the way back to his flat, his cheeks flushing a lovely pink whenever an occasional curious glance is thrown in their direction. It’s only once they get there and Martin tries to pass the plushie back to Jon with a sheepish, “Suppose I better give this back now,” that Jon realizes he had… indeed not been very clear about his intentions.

“It’s… for you, actually,” Jon says, ignoring the way his cheeks are growing steadily warmer. Then, Jon takes a breath and pushes the rest of the plushies rather unceremoniously into Martin’s arms, save for the cat which he’s… grown rather attached to in their short acquaintanceship. “Th-they all are. Er. F-for you.”

“O-oh.” Martin looks down at the collection of brightly colored things in his arms, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “I—I… really?”

Jon hugs the cat tightly to his chest, feeling something like embarrassment curl in his stomach. “I-if you don’t want them, I—I can—”

“No!” Martin says quickly, curling his arms protectively around the plushies. “I—I do. W-want them.” He looks down at the teddy sitting by his feet, then up at Jon with a warm, shy smile on his face. “Th-thanks, Jon.”

I love him, I love him, I love him.

Jon nods, pinches his lips together, and tries to keep his affection contained. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, after all. That’s… something he’s not meant to do, he thinks.

Then, when they’re both lying in bed and Martin’s chest is pressed against Jon’s back, his arm curled around Jon’s middle and his nose buried in Jon’s hair, Martin murmurs, “I love you,” and Jon’s breath catches in his throat.

“I… I love you too,” he whispers. And it’s such an easy thing to say that Jon wonders why he’d ever worried at all.

Martin makes a sleepy, contented noise, burrowing closer and wrapping Jon more tightly in his arms. And because he can—he can, he can, Martin said it first, so he can—Jon says again, so quietly he isn’t sure Martin can hear it: “I love you.”

The words are sweet on his tongue, like candy floss and funnel cakes and caramel apples.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #my writing #my fic #i know nothing about british amusement parks so if this is painfully american... forgive me #hawkfurze

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harfanfare · 4 years ago

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How to win a heart of Leona Kingscholar?

1. Be able to make braids.

“Don’t move” you switched the left strand of chestnut hair with the one in the center and swapped the right strand with the current center. “You should brush your hair more often. If not, it will get more knotted…”

Leona mumbled something about naturally tangling hair, but stood still. He watched sleepily your hands that played with his hair while you were trying to create solid plait.

His braids got destroyed after lessons with sir Vargas, so you suggested that you will do them again. In this way, he could lay on his cozy bed and with some kind of amusement and pleasure, watching you so closely…

2. Be kind and obedient pillow.

“Hey, w-wait! I have lessons in a minute..!” you tried to get out of Leona’s embrace, who drew you towards his bed, hugged you, and didn’t move since then.

“Pillows do not talk” he covered your mouth with his hand and cocked his head a bit. The gaze he send you wasn’t as annoying it should look right now as inexplicably appealing. You suddenly got quiet. “Sleep has a great impact on our health, don’t you know, herbivore? As it’s said… you can’t put school before your health”

“You say that because you just don’t want to listen to professor Trein”

“I'd fall asleep anyway. Then why not pick someplace more comfortable?”

3. Try new things.

“But why don’t we add this… and this?” you picked up two vials, pink and lime, and swung them a bit. Small water tornadoes formed in the vessels. “In textbook, they didn’t write anything that they shouldn’t be mixed”.

“Every idiot knows, that these two cannot be combined” Leona accented every word. “Unless you want to blow up a lab”.

You laughed, but put the vials back on the self and stepped back. Leona sighed as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to the other side of the alchemy room.

“Come on, let's make this elixir quickly and finish this circus for today. From what I can see, some people are just inspired by... your previous color choices in vials.”

4. Eat vegetables.

With a fork, you separated the peas from the carrots as you waited for Leona to get out of the queue for the buffet and return to your table. And the queue was great.

"Herbivore," appeared in front of you a dark-haired boy who sat in front of you with his tray full of meat and some other additives, such as bread, paste, or sauce. "How can I call you an herbivore if you don't eat vegetables?"

"Plants aren’t only vegetables," you said, putting your plate aside.

"But some are," Leona gently grabbed your wrist. He took his fork, punched a mixture of peas and carrots from your plate, and gave you a cutlery. "Eat it. In our dorm it is difficult to find anything other than meat, so you should eat at least so much. You get sick without all these vitamins... or something like that.”

5. Be able to fight for yours

You took the scales when you knocked an unknown guy in your face. He took a step back and grabbed his cheek, but quickly jumped up to you and grabbed the collar.

"Ha, Leona's girlfriend is much weaker than I expected," the boy laughed in your face as you yanked and tried to kick him solidly. "What a disappointment.”

"The only disappointment is your respect for women," you fell to the ground when Kingscholar threw himself just to the guy's throat. Both fell to the ground; Leona sat on the boy grounded by his weight and just before his eyes held his hand, which shimmered black and gray sand - his activated unique magic. "Or rather, the lack of its existence.”

At an incredible rate, the man's face went from shock to horror. With a smothered cry, he did his best to break out of Leona's grip before he escaped from your two with vivid desperation.

"This one--" he growled, then walked up to you and helped you get up. "We take you to the nurse. And you have to sleep there or I'll put you to sleep” here he scooped up a few strands in front of your face.”...You fought valiantly. Many would envy you such courage, herbivore.”

6. Don’t let him do everything he wants.

He pulled you on the sofa and hugged his face in your hair. Still a moment and you would literally fall on top of pillows that have recently been washed out.

"I can't fall asleep now," you took hhands off and moved a few steps away. Leona seemed slightly confused and partly annoyed. You sent him an apologetic look. "I have agreed that today I will be doing a project and-”

"Is it so important that we have to take our traditional nap?" he interrupted you.

"Unless you want the guy I'm doing the project to come here and pick me up personally," you replied. Leona raised his eyebrows and your mouth bent in a smile. "Rook”

"You can go," he spat. He wouldn’t react at almost anyone else, but Rook would have just fallen into his room or looked at you through the window and watched you calmly nap. Leona shuddered at this thought.

He licked his mouth when you left and fell on his bed. Ah, he will wait until you come back to just make you sleep twice as long.

7. Smell nice.

“Were you baking?” Leona asked when you entered his room. The scent of warm cocoa hadn’t leave you yet.

"Yes. Ruggie and I made some chocolate biscuits,” you wiped off your flour blouse. "Do you want some?"

"Not really," he replied, approaching you. He took your hand and put it on his cheek, inhaling the smell of pastries even more.

The scent was truly alluring.

He had much more sensitive senses than the average person, especially the senses of smell and hearing, so when he found himself closer to you, he sensed more notes of ingredients: besides chocolate, he recognized honey, nuts, and cinnamon.

He will get drunk with this aroma, which, according to him (but he wouldn’t admit it), was strangely sweeter.

8. Don't get along too well with Malleus.

"You're not going to him," you couldn’t help, but roll your eyes at his words.

“Would you like to join our tea meeting?” You looked up at him from under your lashes as Leona pulled you away from the main corridor. “If you really want to, I'm sure Malleus won't mind-“

"But I will," he replied. “He can't take my free time with you because he suddenly decided that he wanted to play... chess with you?” He tried to remember what it was about, but soon he shook his head, clearing the thoughts.

You smiled weakly.

"You'll be the one to explain to Sebek of my,” here you cleared your throat “lack of respect and waste of Lord Malleus' precious time. "

"I will go to him personally and complain about ‘wasting precious time’ of mine and yours.”

9. Have a side of your personality that only shows up to the closest people.

Problem with school? Leona won't necessarily teach you everything the textbook says, but he'll find a way to help you or calm you down, assuring you that it will be fine.

Any conflicts in the family or with their lives? Maybe he could solve them for you somehow? - after all, he is a prince, even if the second one, he is still a very influential man.

Maybe at night, your joyful personality disappears? You are becoming closed to everyone?

Each problem will be an important problem for him. He might not take it as seriously as you, but every time you confide in something to him, you can be sure that he will take your secrets with him to his grave. And search for a solution.

…And every time you think about what to do, he will feel a warmth in his heart that you have decided to reveal something to him that others do not have access to. Even if the problem is troublesome and doesn’t fit in the list of things that are nice to spend free time on.

10. Give him your heart.

By far the most difficult and demanding, the most important of the other subsections

For this very difficult to give a concrete example

Because in fact each of these stages could give him a fragment of your heart

Or at least his heart was stolen

By each of these moments

And not only these

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona #leona kingscholar #savanaclaw x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland leona #again it sounds much worse in English than I thought

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shirbertshitposts · 4 years ago

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10 Shirbert Moments from Anne of Green Gables series I think about a lot

In honor of Valentines Day I thought I would post a list of some of my favorite Anne and Gilbert moments. It was hard to narrow it to just ten as I have been going through all nine books and trying to queue posts about all their iconic moments through the series; However I decided to pick the ones that I remember even when I haven’t read the books in a while. I didn’t have the heart to rank them properly so they’re just listed in chronological order.

1. His future must be worthy of its goddess

In the twilight Anne sauntered down to the Dryad’s Bubble and saw Gilbert Blythe coming down through the dusky Haunted Wood. She had a sudden realization that Gilbert was a schoolboy no longer. And how manly he looked—the tall, frank-faced fellow, with the clear, straightforward eyes and the broad shoulders. Anne thought Gilbert was a very handsome lad, even though he didn’t look at all like her ideal man. She and Diana had long ago decided what kind of a man they admired and their tastes seemed exactly similar. He must be very tall and distinguished looking, with melancholy, inscrutable eyes, and a melting, sympathetic voice. There was nothing either melancholy or inscrutable in Gilbert’s physiognomy, but of course that didn’t matter in friendship!

Gilbert stretched himself out on the ferns beside the Bubble and looked approvingly at Anne. If Gilbert had been asked to describe his ideal woman the description would have answered point for point to Anne, even to those seven tiny freckles whose obnoxious presence still continued to vex her soul. Gilbert was as yet little more than a boy; but a boy has his dreams as have others, and in Gilbert’s future there was always a girl with big, limpid gray eyes, and a face as fine and delicate as a flower. He had made up his mind, also, that his future must be worthy of its goddess. Even in quiet Avonlea there were temptations to be met and faced. White Sands youth were a rather “fast” set, and Gilbert was popular wherever he went. But he meant to keep himself worthy of Anne’s friendship and perhaps some distant day her love; and he watched over word and thought and deed as jealously as if her clear eyes were to pass in judgment on it. She held over him the unconscious influence that every girl, whose ideals are high and pure, wields over her friends; an influence which would endure as long as she was faithful to those ideals and which she would as certainly lose if she were ever false to them. In Gilbert’s eyes Anne’s greatest charm was the fact that she never stooped to the petty practices of so many of the Avonlea girls—the small jealousies, the little deceits and rivalries, the palpable bids for favor. Anne held herself apart from all this, not consciously or of design, but simply because anything of the sort was utterly foreign to her transparent, impulsive nature, crystal clear in its motives and aspirations.

-- Chapter XIX, Anne of Avonlea

2. For the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze

“What are you thinking of, Anne?” asked Gilbert, coming down the walk. He had left his horse and buggy out at the road.

“Of Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving,” answered Anne dreamily. “Isn’t it beautiful to think how everything has turned out . . . how they have come together again after all the years of separation and misunderstanding?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” said Gilbert, looking steadily down into Anne’s uplifted face, “but wouldn’t it have been more beautiful still, Anne, if there had been NO separation or misunderstanding . . . if they had come hand in hand all the way through life, with no memories behind them but those which belonged to each other?”

For a moment Anne’s heart fluttered queerly and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face. It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted, giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities. Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.

Then the veil dropped again; but the Anne who walked up the dark lane was not quite the same Anne who had driven gaily down it the evening before. The page of girlhood had been turned, as by an unseen finger, and the page of womanhood was before her with all its charm and mystery, its pain and gladness.

Gilbert wisely said nothing more; but in his silence he read the history of the next four years in the light of Anne’s remembered blush. Four years of earnest, happy work . . . and then the guerdon of a useful knowledge gained and a sweet heart won.

-- Chapter XXX, Anne of Avonlea

3. I just want YOU

“I have a dream,” he said slowly. “I persist in dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true. I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends—and YOU!”

Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words. Happiness was breaking over her like a wave. It almost frightened her.

“I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne. If I ask it again today will you give me a different answer?”

Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her eyes, shining with all the love-rapture of countless generations, and looked into his for a moment. He wanted no other answer.

They lingered in the old garden until twilight, sweet as dusk in Eden must have been, crept over it. There was so much to talk over and recall—things said and done and heard and thought and felt and misunderstood.

“I thought you loved Christine Stuart,” Anne told him, as reproachfully as if she had not given him every reason to suppose that she loved Roy Gardner.

Gilbert laughed boyishly.

“Christine was engaged to somebody in her home town. I knew it and she knew I knew it. When her brother graduated he told me his sister was coming to Kingsport the next winter to take music, and asked me if I would look after her a bit, as she knew no one and would be very lonely. So I did. And then I liked Christine for her own sake. She is one of the nicest girls I’ve ever known. I knew college gossip credited us with being in love with each other. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered much to me for a time there, after you told me you could never love me, Anne. There was nobody else—there never could be anybody else for me but you. I’ve loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in school.”

“I don’t see how you could keep on loving me when I was such a little fool,” said Anne.

“Well, I tried to stop,” said Gilbert frankly, “not because I thought you what you call yourself, but because I felt sure there was no chance for me after Gardner came on the scene. But I couldn’t—and I can’t tell you, either, what it’s meant to me these two years to believe you were going to marry him, and be told every week by some busybody that your engagement was on the point of being announced. I believed it until one blessed day when I was sitting up after the fever. I got a letter from Phil Gordon—Phil Blake, rather—in which she told me there was really nothing between you and Roy, and advised me to ‘try again.’ Well, the doctor was amazed at my rapid recovery after that.”

Anne laughed—then shivered.

“I can never forget the night I thought you were dying, Gilbert. Oh, I knew—I KNEW then—and I thought it was too late.”

“But it wasn’t, sweetheart. Oh, Anne, this makes up for everything, doesn’t it? Let’s resolve to keep this day sacred to perfect beauty all our lives for the gift it has given us.”

“It’s the birthday of our happiness,” said Anne softly. “I’ve always loved this old garden of Hester Gray’s, and now it will be dearer than ever.”

“But I’ll have to ask you to wait a long time, Anne,” said Gilbert sadly. “It will be three years before I’ll finish my medical course. And even then there will be no diamond sunbursts and marble halls.”

Anne laughed.

“I don’t want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want YOU. You see I’m quite as shameless as Phil about it. Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very well, but there is more ‘scope for imagination’ without them. And as for the waiting, that doesn’t matter. We’ll just be happy, waiting and working for each other—and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very sweet now.”

Gilbert drew her close to him and kissed her. Then they walked home together in the dusk, crowned king and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds of hope and memory blew.

-- Chapter XLI, Anne of the Island

4. Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you.

"Gilbert darling, don't let's ever be afraid of things. It's such dreadful slavery. Let's be daring and adventurous and expectant. Let's dance to meet life and all it can bring to us, even if it brings scads of trouble and typhoid and twins!"

Today has been a day dropped out of June into April. The snow is all gone and the fawn meadows and golden hills just sing of spring. I know I heard Pan piping in the little green hollow in my maple bush and my Storm King was bannered with the airiest of purple hazes. We've had a great deal of rain lately and I've loved sitting in my tower in the still, wet hours of the spring twilights. But tonight is a gusty, hurrying night . . . even the clouds racing over the sky are in a hurry and the moonlight that gushes out between them is in a hurry to flood the world.

"Suppose, Gilbert, we were walking hand in hand down one of the long roads in Avonlea tonight!"

Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you. You don't think it's irreverent, do you? But then, you're not a minister."

-- Chapter 9, Anne of Windy Poplars

5. Suitable Places

"(Are you sure you kiss me in suitable places, Gilbert? I'm afraid Mrs. Gibson would think the nape of the neck, for instance, most unsuitable.)”

-- Chapter 12, Anne of Windy Poplars

6. He narrowly escaped bursting with pride

"Anne, this is Captain Boyd. Captain Boyd, my wife."

It was the first time Gilbert had said "my wife" to anybody but Anne, and he narrowly escaped bursting with the pride of it. The old captain held out a sinewy hand to Anne; they smiled at each other and were friends from that moment. Kindred spirit flashed recognition to kindred spirit.

-- Chapter 6, Anne’s House of Dreams

7. Queen of my heart and life and home

"Gilbert, would you like my hair better if it were like Leslie's?" she asked wistfully.

"I wouldn't have your hair any color but just what it is for the world," said Gilbert, with one or two convincing accompaniments.

You wouldn't be ANNE if you had golden hair—or hair of any color but"—

"Red," said Anne, with gloomy satisfaction.

"Yes, red—to give warmth to that milk-white skin and those shining gray-green eyes of yours. Golden hair wouldn't suit you at all Queen Anne—MY Queen Anne—queen of my heart and life and home."

"Then you may admire Leslie's all you like," said Anne magnanimously.”

-Chapter 12, Anne’s House of Dreams

8. Annest of Annes

But the best of all was when Gilbert came to her, as she stood at her window, watching a fog creeping in from the sea, over the moonlit dunes and the harbour, right into the long narrow valley upon which Ingleside looked down and in which nestled the village of Glen St. Mary.

"To come back at the end of a hard day and find you! Are you happy, Annest of Annes?"

"Happy!" Anne bent to sniff a vaseful of apple blossoms Jem had set on her dressing-table. She felt surrounded and encompassed by love. "Gilbert dear, it's been lovely to be Anne of Green Gables again for a week, but it's a hundred times lovelier to come back and be Anne of Ingleside."

-- Chapter 3, Anne of Ingleside

9. I couldn’t live without you

Anne felt like a released bird . . . she was flying again. Gilbert's arms were around her . . . his eyes were looking into hers in the moonlight.

"You do love me, Gilbert? I'm not just a habit with you? You haven't said you loved me for so long."

"My dear, dear love! I didn't think you needed words to know that. I couldn't live without you. Always you give me strength. There's a verse somewhere in the Bible that is meant for you . . . 'She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.'"

Life which had seemed so grey and foolish a few moments before was golden and rose and splendidly rainbowed again. The diamond pendant slipped to the floor, unheeded for the moment. It was beautiful . . . but there were so many things lovelier . . . confidence and peace and delightful work . . . laughter and kindness . . . that old safe feeling of a sure love.

"Oh, if we could keep this moment for ever, Gilbert!"

"We're going to have some moments. It's time we had a second honeymoon. Anne, there's going to be a big medical congress in London next February. We're going to it . . . and after it we'll see a bit of the Old World. There's a holiday coming to us. We'll be nothing but lovers again . . . it will be just like being married over again. You haven't been like yourself for a long time. ("So he had noticed.") You're tired and overworked . . . you need a change. ("You too, dearest. I've been so horribly blind.") I'm not going to have it cast up to me that doctors' wives never get a pill. We'll come back rested and fresh, with our sense of humour completely restored. Well, try your pendant on and let's get to bed. I'm half dead for sleep . . . haven't had a decent night's sleep for weeks, what with twins and worry over Mrs. Garrow."

--Chapter 41, Anne of Ingleside

10. Old love light

DR. BLYTHE:- “The old, old love light that was kindled so many years ago in Avonlea ... and burns yet, Anne ... at least for me.”

ANNE:- “And for me, too. And will burn forever, Gilbert.”

-- Page 189, The Blythes Are Quoted

Feel free to respond to this post with any of your favorite shirbert moments that I missed!

#Shirbert #Anne Shirley #Gilbert Blythe #aogg #anne of avonlea #anne of the island #anne of windy poplars #anne of ingleside #anne's house of dreams #the blythes are quoted

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lightsovermonaco · 4 years ago

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls.

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods.

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires.

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past.

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him.

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places.

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease.

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone.

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely.

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-"

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue.

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you.

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?"

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium.

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back.

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..."

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze.

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy.

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

#are you feeling the angst yet #pierre gasly #pierre gasly X reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 rpf #f1 rpf #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfiction

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bonsaiiiiiii · 2 years ago

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these days, i came across this situation that angered me for motives i didn’t know at the time, but today I understood why.

putting this discussion topic (?) under a readmore banner. this shouldn’t get very long, and it’s not even awful or something, but i just wanted to so it could save you the time of scrolling through if you don’t wanna read.

(spoiler: it gets a bit lengthy, but please, if you can, read it and give me your opinion on it, just to help me understand better. ty ❤️)

so basically it starts with my roommate that had to do this transport pass. they had to fill in a module and, since their mother was there, she filled it in. nothing bothering, until she signed for their child. literally, she faked their child’s signature and put it in the module by herself. and after that both mother and child were grinning widely like it was a common thing. i literally was there and couldn’t understand, because even if mom was there with me i still would’ve signed by myself ?? and normally it’s the other way around, you fake your mom’s signature so if you miss school you are justified and your mom doesn’t know bc the school thinks your mom gave you permission through the signature, something like this. so i couldn’t place why i was so confused and negatively affected by this (not irritated, just sour), but i thought, hey i’ve never done this before and not even mom has done this before, so i’m just overreacting as per usual because i’ve never seen this scenario (just fyi, i never even once faked my mom’s signature, so it’s going both ways, i don’t fake hers and she doesn’t fake mine).

next thing that happens is, while we’re eating, they receive a call from someone. they reply, and from the replies they give it’s probable the person on the phone mistook them for their mother, but they continue and go “yes, my child called yesterday” like they were the mother and, again, i was like ???? oi, are you her secretary or smth? because i’ve never done this before either, i would just go “yes, but i’m her daughter actually, would you like to leave a message for her?” and i’ve never seen this done on my friends either (not that i have many, but anyways) and it left me confused and borderline irritated, but again i couldn’t place why.

so today i was thinking about it, and came to a conclusion, but it’s pretty personal or at least that’s what i think: about the signature, i see it as a way to express your identity. like, you’re a little bean of about 10 years or smth and want to create your own signature and you go for it, and then during your teen years you come back at it again and you try to practice it because heck in a few years you’ll be an adult, and you gotta get your signature ready for the world, because that’s the world’s way to know you’ve been in a certain place (at least thats what i did, it might vary from person to person and not everyone might get attached to it like i do). so it angers me to know that my identity, a little part of it, is being stolen by me because, since my mom is faking my signature then my neighbor can too, right? the salesman around the corner can too, right? so what did you do a signature for if you can’t use it when needed?

about the phone call, it was the opposite thing: you temporarily stole your mom’s identity. like, literally, they mistake you for you mom and you get along with it, you become your mom because that’s more practical (????) than being yourself and saying “mom ain’t here”? idk. it might be me…

since i was of a valid enough age to understand about this, mom always told me that my signature was unique, that it was mine and that it shouldn’t be stolen as well as i shouldn’t steal someone else’s, and so it happened, i don’t steal mom’s signature as well as she doesn’t steal mine, as well as i don’t let others steal mine. i understand that if it’s a real necessity and i’m not there to sign promptly then yeah, it must be done, but if we’re both in a queue with 20 people in front of us, there’s time, i’m there, and yet you still sign for me…

so yeah, it might be because we’re all different between each other and that’s what makes us unique, but whenever i’ll have children i want to teach them what mom taught me, and that is that your signature and identity is yours and yours alone, and you shouldn’t steal another’s and let yours be stolen even for trivial things like a transport pass module. am i wrong? am i overreacting?

#iris speaks #this sounds a lot like a ‘AITA?’ posts slsksksksksl #anyway brief rant #doesn’t contain bothering topics #just a knotted brain over this situation

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seamsterspell · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Have a Membership?

Summary:

Levi went to a convenience store, and he was welcomed by a dazzling cashier. [LH Modern AU]

Words: 2081

A/N: A Oneshot that was Inspired by a real life event that my friend had experienced. It was so funny and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Hence, I want to immortalized their story by turning it into a Levihan fanfiction.

LINK: AO3 / FFNET

DISCLAIMER: Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan belongs to Hajime Isayama.

Levi had visited this gas station a few times before, but he had never bought something from the convenience store. However, one day, when he was driving Isabel to her university, he found himself in needed for gas. At the same time, he had also promised Isabel to buy her snacks for her faculty camping trip. Hence, to save some time, they decided to go to the convenience store after filling his car with gas.

Well, at least, that was the plan. But he should have known that Isabel is far too rebellious for his plan, no matter how simple it is. Because, in a quick motion, Isabel unfastened her seatbelt and went straight to the store, leaving Levi to queue for the gas alone.

Few minutes later, after he got what he needed, he parked the car in front of the small store. From the look of it, the store seemed to be vacant. Levi opened the glass door and heard a bell ring.

"Welcome to Rose Mini Mart!"

Additional voice was heard alongside the ringing of the bell. Levi was quite taken aback by a cheerful greeting that he got, which was a bit jarring from the usual greeting that he got from tired and underpaid retail workers.

Levi threw a quick glance at the cashier and glanced away. However, soon enough he found himself glancing back at the cashier. It was proven to be a bad decision because he locked eyes with the person. In an instant, he glanced away and walked further inside the store, focusing on his task to find a teenager with bright red hair. Fortunately, the store was small, so it was not hard for him to find her. She was standing in an alley that was filled with snacks and candies.

"Jesus, Isabel. Do you want to rob the entire shop?" Levi commented as soon as he saw Isabel—who was trying to fit various selection of potato chips into her hands.

"What do you mean? I just want to be prepared. What if I got lost in a forest?" Isabel replied nonchalantly as she grabbed another bag of potato chips.

"Don't be over dramatic. It's a fake forest, a playground for adults. You have to be stupid enough to get lost in there." Levi took two pairs of potato chip bags from her before putting it back on the rack. "It's only three days, Isa. Just buy what you need."

Isabel pouted and reluctantly put back most of her snacks, muttering under her breath as she did that. Levi insisted that he would not pay if she bought a lot, but Isabel kept persuading him to let her to buy another package. After throwing arguments back and forth, in the end, Isabel's haul consisted of a bag of chips, a bar of chocolate, two cartons of strawberry juice, and a package of dry toasted almond.

"Wow, you got a lot in there." The cashier remarked with a chuckle when Isabel put her snacks on the counter. "You're going somewhere?" She asked Isabel.

Isabel then proceeded to tell the cashier about her faculty camping trip. The cashier nodded to Isabel's story as she took each item and scanned it.

Now that Levi stood near the cashier, he was able to scan her appearance. She was wearing a long black sleeves shirt and a green apron. Her hair was knotted into a messy updo from which a few baby hairs could be seen coming out. She also wore rectangular glasses that sat on top of her roman nose.

There was nothing special with the way she dressed or styled herself. Nevertheless, Levi was somehow captivated by her, and he did not know why or how it happened. Was it because she looked so genuine when she smiled? Was it because the way her auburn hair shines from the sun that peeked through the store window? Was it because her genial attitude toward Isabel? Or was it because she looked—

"Alright, that will be $20.50, sir."

Levi was brought back from his stupor to meet a pair of sweet chocolate eyes. He blinked once as he muttered, "Ah."

"Will that be cash or charge?" She asked.

Levi took his wallet from his pocket and grabbed two pair of 10 dollars bill and a coin. "Cash." He said as he gave her the money.

"Do you have Rose membership?" She inquired when she took the money and count it.

"No."

"Do you have coupons?"

"No."

She nodded, "alright, you paid exactly $20.50 so there will be no change." The cashier clicked a few keys on the keyboard, put the money on the register, and gave him the receipt. "Thank you!" She said with the same smile that never falter since the beginning.

After making sure the receipt was right, Levi took Isabel—who had already put the snacks inside her canvas bag—by the elbow and led her outside.

"See you again." She told them before they left.

•──────✦──────•

Levi started his car and drove his car away from the gas station. However, he found himself lost in a haze of his own mind. He could not even focus to hear Isabel's rambling because his thought was filled with a certain someone. It was strange, because he did not even know her name, but she had caught him by surprised.

Levi thought that maybe it was because he did not expect someone like her to work as a cashier in a gas station convenience store. Granted, nothing is wrong with the job, but Levi had never met a cashier that… that is… that is so…

"LEVI!"

Levi jolted in his seat from the sudden loud voice that came from the girl that seated next to her. He looked on the road, expecting the worst, but luckily nothing happened. For a second, he was scared that they would die or something. After regaining his composure, Levi furrowed his brows at her and exclaimed, "What the fuck, Isabel?"

"I had to scream because you didn't respond!" She said in her usual high voice. However, Levi noticed a hint of urgency on her voice.

Levi sighed and clicked his tongue. "Sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, apology accepted. Now that we have made our peace, I want us to go back to the store."

"Huh?" Levi could not believe her request. He was barely driving for ten minutes, and she already want to go back? Well, it is not like he did not like that idea…

"We need to go back." She repeated as she sat awkwardly on the seat. Her countenance was nothing out of ordinary, but there was a sign on her forehead that said, 'something is definitely not right'.

He narrowed his eyes, scanning her suspiciously. "What do you mean we need—"

"WE NEED TO GO BACK!"

"I HEARD YOU!" He replied in an equally loud manner before lowering it again as he asked, "Why? You forget something?"

"Not really..." Isabel muttered before finally looking at Levi with much seriousness in her face. It was rare for her to make that face, so whatever this thing is, it must be so important. "Okay, listen Levi. I need to buy a tampon."

Levi raised one of his brows. "What? How could you forget something as important as that?"

"Well, I didn't know I got it until now." The words easily flew from her mouth, almost like she just told him about the weather today.

Levi paused before his face finally turned horror as he glanced at Isabel with bewildered eyes. He opened his mouth and asked in a low voice, "… Are you freaking serious?"

"No, it’s a prank."

Silence.

"OF COURSE, IT’S NOT. I'M SERIOUS, LEVI." Isabel grabbed his shoulder to shake him. "That's why we have to go back! Do you want me to—"

"Fuck no!" Levi shook his head in disbelief before looking at her again. "Are you even sure about it?"

"YEAH, I'M SURE! I KNOW MY BODY, OKAY?!"

Levi grunted before finally taking a turn to go back to the gas station. They parted away as soon as they arrived at the gas station. Isabel went to the toilet, walking in slow and painstaking steps. Meanwhile, Levi sprinted and barged into the store, making the bell rang loudly as he did.

"Welcome—Oh, it's you again."

Levi gave her a nod before walking to the personal care aisle and grabbed Isabel's usual choice of brand. He went to the cashier in hurry and immediately pocket his wallet from his pocket.

"You came back." The cashier remarked in a voice that was buoyant and tender.

"Yeah."

She grabbed the package and scanned it. "Oh, seems like your sister forgot this, huh?"

"Yeah—" He answered before furrowing his brows at her. "Wait, how did you know?"

"Deduction, I guess." She chuckled as she took a glance at the monitor. "From the way you two argued over potato chips and dry toasted almond, I knew immediately that you two are siblings."

On one hand, Levi was taken aback, and a little bit impressed by her observation. He and Isabel do not look exactly alike, so there had been some awkward instances where people would mistake them as any other but siblings. Although, on the other hand, Levi was kind of embarrassed by the fact that he and Isabel quarrelled loudly in public.

"Alright, that will be $6.68." She looked back at him with gleam in her eyes. "Will that be cash or charge?"

"Cash" Levi opened his wallet, grabbed two bills, and put it on the casher table before opening the small compartment where he put his coins. Levi then grabbed a few coins and started to count it.

"Do you have Rose membership?"

"No."

"Do you have coupons?"

"No."

"Do you have a partner?"

"No— What?!"

Chink.

Series of metal sound hitting ceramic was heard loudly on the quiet store. Levi stared blankly at his coins that scattered all over the floor. Then, he heard a feminine laughter coming from the cashier. Levi's started to feel his cheek burning from the event. He immediately crouched down and started to collect his coins.

"I'm sorry." She said before leaving the register and went to kneel in front of him. She helped him to grab some of the coins, she even willing to grab the coin that got stuck under the table. He was grateful for her help, but she just could not stop laughing while doing so, and it made him even more self-conscious.

Oddly enough, he was able to let it slide. He just could not find himself angry at her, not when she laughed like that. Her laughter was so sweet, so enchanting, and so addicting. So much so that he let the corners of his mouth lifted for a second.

After making sure that she did not miss any coins, she stood up and returned to her post. A few coins on her hand and she counted it. Then she grabbed the money that he had left on the counter and said, "six dollars…" before showing him the coins that she had on her hand, "…and sixty-eight cents."

“Ah, yeah—" He muttered in a croaky voice, a clear sign that he was being betrayed by his body. He cleared his throat and repeat his sentence in a clearer voice. "Yeah, thank you."

"You're welcome." She giggled and gave him the receipt.

Levi nodded as he took the receipt and the item. He glanced at her and at the door, contemplating on what he should do. In the end, his pathetic self decided to nod at her again before turning his body to the door.

"I'm Hange, by the way." She suddenly told him in a soft voice, almost like she was hesitating to speak it.

Levi halted on his step and returned to look back at her. A subtle flush could be seen on her cheek and Levi had to mentally stopped himself from staring at her like an idiot. He rubbed his nape and said, "Levi."

She was beaming with joy at his response. "Then, see you again…?"

Unlike the one that she said to him and Isabel, this time she voiced it more like a question than a statement. Levi smirked before he walked to the exit and answered, "only if my sister forgot something again."

Well, if there is one thing he knew about Isabel, she tends to forget things.

-fin-

#cha cha real smooooottthhhh #this was fun!!#it's nice to write in a more casual english #tftae is slowly turning me into shakespeare #ngl I went to walmart page to check on the price bcs idk the value of dollar :D #it's been so long since I wrote them in modern AU #levihan #levihan fanfiction #bluemallow

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yo-im-a-bisexual · 4 years ago

Text

This is my first time writing and i'm definitely no writer. English isn't even my first language. It is kinda long but I swear it's going somewhere. I just really love them and this will only work untill we get a new kieutou clip so whatever. Hope you enjoy. And I'm sorry if it sucks. constructive criticism is always okay but I will probably not take it into account because I am already depressed. Enjoy!!

Basically what I wish happened today for kieu my.

'but we'll definitely see each other when you come back?' 14:31

Kieu my stared at fatou's text notification on her phone, not knowing what to answer.

She still didn't know how to feel about their interaction on Tuesday, it all happened so fast and the last thing she wanted was to fight with her girlfriend.

At the time, leaving seemed like the best solution and Kieu my had every right to feel conflicted about what fatou said.

"you're the only thing distracting me from everything else at the moment"

The words resonate in her head. It hurt. Kieu my couldn't hide that those words are the ones that kept her up that night. And obviously, also the crazy situation they were in right now.

"Kieu my?" The words broke her out of her trance and she looked up from her phone to see Zoe looking at her with a worried look on her face.

"Are you okay? You've been checking your phone every five minutes since we got here" Zoe added getting closer to her

"yeah, I'm fine. I'm just... Forget it." She answered her best friend. "We're gonna lose the guys if we don't keep up" she said looking straight ahead.

Zoe didn't push her and just agreed. Kieu my put her phone back in her pocket. They jogged a little to catch up with their friends and they just kept walking.

She looked at the small group and laughed dryly to herself, which earned her a weird look from Constantin. Somehow her tall dumb friend got himself all the way to fricking Brandenburg and couldn't remember how. When Ismail told her about a 'Consti-emergency' she figured they would have to go get him from a ditch somewhere, she just would have never guessed it was from the countryside, one (1) and a half hour away from Berlin.

On the way there Ismail had told them that Constantin had called them completely trashed asking for help.

Kieu my really hasn't been keeping up with what's been happening in her friends lives. She felt bad. But at the same time, how could she? She's had so much to deal with between her parents and the shop and school and... Fatou. There she goes again. Even when she tries to be mad at her she just can't keep the skater out of her head. She reaches for her phone in her pocket when she hears a commotion ahead.

When she looks up she sees Contantin throwing up in a bush. She looks away not wanting to throw up herself.

"You guys go and head back i'll take care of... This" she hears Ismail say and when she turns back around she sees them patting the blonde's back

"are you sure?" Finn asks them and when they only nod their head 'yes' he looks at Zoe.

"yeah... okay let's go then" Zoe finally says after a minute of staring at the ground. "Text us if you need anything and when he... Calms down." She adds with a tight lipped smile. Zoe grabs her boyfriend's hand and her Best friend's arm and they start walking away.

"well that was... Unexpected?" Kieu my says after a few minutes of silence.

"yeah/yeah" both Finn and Zoe answer at the same time. "I'll text my brother and tell him we're coming back" Finn adds.

They got lucky this time around. Last time, they had to drive an hour to go get Constantin and drive back to Berlin in the middle of the night. But luckily Finn's brother somehow lived in Brandenburg so they didn't have to drive all the way back. When they got there and found the passed out boy they decided they all needed a break.

After about a twenty (20) minute walk and a small bus ride they finally got to the small house. It was cozy. Kieu my really couldn't complain. She got to share a room with her best friend while the boys would have to try and fit on the couch in the living room. Although she's pretty sure she's gonna sleep alone because Finn somehow managed to find another bed in what seemed to be the attic and with some good arguments managed to convince Zoe to sleep with him in there. But she's also pretty sure she won't be able to sleep anyway.

Like every winter day, night falls pretty fast. It's past 8 p.m and they already ate. Constantin is passed out on the couch and the others are talking about all sorts of things in the kitchen. Kieu my takes it as her queue to go to her room.

"I'm gonna get some rest. I need my beauty sleep" she tells them. They all say goodnight and she's left walking to her room alone.

It's only ten (10) minutes later when someone knocks at her door. "Can I come in kieu?" It's Zoe.

"yes, please"

"so are you ready to tell me what happened with Fatou or not?" Zoe asks nonchalantly.

"how did you even-" she gets cut off

"Come on Kieu, you're my best friend... and I saw the dozen texts she left on your phone" Zoe drags out

Kieu my falls on her bed and zoe sits next to her playing with her best friend's hair.

"I feel like I messed up... Like somehow I did something wrong and now she's pulling away from me" she starts and even before Zoe can say anything she continues. "But I just wanted to help her and she..."

"she what?"

"she said I was a distraction. And that I should leave her alone and she just got angry at me and I didn't want to fight with her so I... Left. Oh my god, I shouldn't have left right? Now she's gonna think I was there only for school stuff. She probably needed me and I left... Am I a terrible person Zoe?" She let out in barely one breath.

"See now you're spiraling. Take a breath, okay? No you are not a bad person. You were just upset and Fatou probably was too but those kinda things happen in a relationship. Me and Finn argue all the time and most of the time it's because one of us misunderstood something the other did or said" Zoe reassured her

Kieu my took a few deep breaths and sat up in the bed. She started playing With her fingers like she always does when she's feeling things.

"I guess I'm just scared that right now she's into me because I'm a good enough distraction but the moment she doesn't need me anymore... She'll just move on to someone more experienced or more interesting." The words leave her mouth with shaky breaths. Kieu my's eyes start shining but she blinks a couple time to keep the tears away.

"oh Kieu, you are such an idiot sometimes" the blonde laughs while kieu my looks at her dumbfounded. "Fatou is not like that. Nora once told me that one time, when the girls had a sleepover Fatou couldn't stop talking about you for the entire afternoon, so much so that when she fell asleep she was still saying your name" she continues. Kieu my blushes at the statement, thankful that the light is dim enough for her friend not to notice. Before Kieu my can say anything her very talkative friend continues. "She's smitten, Kieu. Maybe she just as some stuff going on. I mean don't we all" she adds wich earns a small laugh from her friend

Before they can continue their conversation someone knocks at the door and comes in without waiting for an answer. It's Finn, with a big smile on his face.

"hey girls!" He says way too excitedly. "I was wondering if Zoe.." he says looking at his girlfriend. "..Would like to come join me in our fine chambers?"

Zoe looks at her friend who is smiling at her. "Duty calls. Sorry. But if you wanna keep talking-" Kieu my cuts her off.

"Go, don't worry I'm fine. Thanks for the talk"

Zoe smiles one last time before running out of the room hand in hand with Finn.

Kieu my lays back down and closes her eyes. She can't help but think about Fatou. How does she manage to always be on her mind, it's unrealistic. She thinks about their date at the museum. Their date. She smiles to herself and covers her face with her arm to hide it. She thinks about how she nerded out to her and she just answered with something as nerdy. About how at that moment she kissed. About how well their lips fit together. About how happy she was that day. Maybe Zoe was right maybe she was spiraling.

Her phone rang and snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked at it for the first time since they got back. She gasps

It's Fatou. Of course it's Fatou, she probably thinks she ghosted her again. The moment she picks it up it stops ringing. Kieu my hesitates but puts it back down. She gets a text and as fast as she put it down she picks it back up. It's a text from Fatou. She also notices she's got some texts from her mom and a missed call from Ismail.

'hey, I just saw on your Insta you're doing a 'social media cleanse', sorry for calling you it's probably against that whole thing' -21:37

Right, Kieu my thinks, the social media cleanse.. that was Zoe's idea honestly. Another text.

'you looked really good in those pictures tho, real 'twilight' vibes🧛 -21:38

Kieu my smiles at her phone and starts to write an answer when she remembers that they haven't actually resolved their issue. And yes Fatou apologized but Kieu my expects something better than a text. On another hand she did tell her girlfriend to call her when she calmed down.

'can I call you again' -21:40 'please?' -21:40

Her phone rang again but this time she picked it up and answered. She waits a few seconds.

"hey.." she hears her girlfriend's tired voice from the other end

"hi." She says back, trying to keep her composure even behind the phone.

"how are you? I saw your posts and got worried"

"I'm.. fine, it was all pretty last minute" she answers

"Oh okay, It's good to hear your voice"

There's a silence, it's not awkward, somehow it's sad.

"Fatou?"

"yes"

"are you..." She begins but can't find the strength to finish.

"i'm not" she hears more than sees the sad smile. "I got fired"

"what- Why? When?" Kieu my asks

"Saturday. I messed up a bunch of times. Was late even. I don't know..." Fatou sounds so defeated

"I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know.. it's not your fault"

"Fatou. I just want you to know that I didn't come to your place just for school stuff. I wanted- I want to help you and I just feel so helpless because you can see right through me and I can't seem to understand any of your problems. I'm sorry." Kieu my starts rambling but gets cut off by Fatou laughing dryly.

"Are you serious? I was the asshole and you feel bad. I'm the one that should be sorry and I am. I am sorry. I don't have an excuse I shouldn't have snapped at you like that" Fatou says and Kieu my thinks that they don't have the same definition of snapped.

"Look, I don't like this, you being mad at me and us not talking so if you just give me a chance to really explain myself I would really like it if you would come and meet me when you get back" the skater girl continues

"yeah, I would also like that" she says with a small smile

"oh okay.. great.. well would you be up for a date at a ping-pong table bar then?"

"definitely"

"great, okay then I guess I'll just leave you to your cleansing"

Kieu my laughs

"goodnight Kieu my"

A pause

"goodnight Fatou"

She hangs up.

Kieu my knows that their conversation isn't over but for now she'll take it. For now it's good.

"was that Fatou?" A voice startles her from the doorway. It's Ismail.

"Shit- you scared me." She paused "Yes it was Fatou"

"Great cause I couldn't handle your sad moping face anymore. What'd you guys talk about?" They ask

She ignores his question. "I do not have a moping face." She says with a hurt look across her face. They look at her.

"Was it that obvious?" She asks with a frown

"Yes! Babe come on even Consti could have noticed if he wasn't puking his soul in the bushes" Ismail says dramatically. "Now come on give me the details. I need to know everything that is happening between my bestie and the mother of my tortoise" they sit next to Kieu my.

"you're so dramatic" she laughs. "Relax, we had a... Quarrel on Tuesday and she apologized and asked if we could meet up to talk about it" she tell them

"a quarrel? Okay m'lady... About?"

"some stupid school stuff" she lied.

"well you're a terrible liar because I overheard that entire phone call so what's up inside that little head of yours"

"Ismail, boundaries, please"

"oh please I've seen you at your lowest miss vu. There's literally nothing you can hide from me now."

She hesitates but starts talking anyway. "You know how I told you about me officially 'meeting' her friends last week" they nodded. "Well when she got there she was visibly upset and I didn't know why and then she got a text and got even more upset and now she just told me she got fired." She takes a breath. "And I just feel bad because those are all things I'm supposed to know about my girlfriend you know? Except she doesn't talk to me about that stuff and I don't know how to get her to open up.." she finishes breathless.

"you poor disaster" Ismail smiles and shakes their head. "You ask her" she's about to cut him off but they put their finger in front of her. "You find the right way to ask her. Love language Kieu my... Love language." They stand up and put their hand up like a shakespearean poet and goes on. "Give her time to open up, this is Fatou Jallow we're talking about. And remember communication is key." They finish, winking and walking backwards to the door and closing it behind them.

Kieu my was about to laugh at her friend's theatrics when the door opens up again and Ismail walks back in.

"no, but I just wanted to ask if I could sleep here cause Constantin has taken the whole couch and he smells like a dead body so...?"

The both of them laugh and Ismail slides next to Kieu my in the bed. "I'm gonna take that as a yes" they say.

"sleep well, ice queen" they mumble already falling asleep

"shut up" she smiles.

That night she dreamt about her girlfriend. She remembers all those weeks ago when her friend sleeping next to her asked her how the dreamy skater girl made her feel. At the time she hadn't known how to put her feelings into words. At that time her girlfriend was just a silly crush. Except Kieu my vu never got silly crushes. But she had instantly known Fatou was different. She was different then and she's different now. And with that thought she drifted into a peaceful sleep. Her insecurities forgotten for the night. She should have never worried about any of this in the first place. Soon she's gonna see the girl she loves again and everything will be alr-

*record scratch*

She woke up with a gasp.

"I love her"

She panted

"congrats, you're the last one to know" she heard Ismail mumble in their pillow.

She smiled to herself, feeling dumb for realising this just now. Looking at her phone she saw 5 a.m. deciding she deserved a little bit more sleep she closed her eyes and with a content sigh drifted back to sleep.

"when I get back we'll definitely see each other" she thought

Okay so I'm too lazy to read this and check for any mistakes so if there are any point them out and i'll fix it. Hope you enjoyed and if you took the time to actually read all this thank you I appreciate. Should I make a part 2? Or Fatou's pov maybe?

Update: the response as been amazing. Like I'm actually shocked by how nice some people can be. Thank you so much.

Re-update: I had my exams this week and am really fucking exhausted and i'm just gonna wait and see what happens tonight. If it's a sad clip i'm probably gonna write the version I would've wanted to happen but i guess we'll see. Sorryyy

#druck #Fatou jallow #kieu my vu #fatou jallow x kieu my vu #I wrote this instead of studying for my bio exam #zoe machwitz #ismail inci #constantin ostendorf #constanpain is present but has no dialogue because I don't value him

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aomine-ryo · 4 years ago

Note

GoM going w their s/o to an attraction park and her wanting to ride all the highest, fastest rides OwO

I hope you like this!! xx

Headcanons: GOM going to an attraction park with their s/o

Kuroko

He surprisingly loves the thrill of a good, fast rollercoaster

So he’d totally be ready to join you on those

You were also looking forward to hearing some type of frightened scream, but strangely enough, he would just giggle like a baby whenever there was a huge drop

“Why were you laughing up there, you weirdo?” you asked him when you got off the ride

“I don’t know, I just found your screams really cute,” he shrugged, trying to fix the mess of hair on his head, though it was useless because it seemed to do as it pleased

Whilst he did love rollercoasters, he absolutely despised the types of rides that would spin you around or flip you in some sort of way

They just made him nauseous and dizzy

But of course, you were immediately drawn to those types of rides as well

“Y/N, I will actually throw up if I go on that ride,” he told you

“Don’t be over dramatic, you haven’t even eaten anything today,” you insisted, dragging him along with you

Unlike the giggles on the rollercoasters, Kuroko was eerily silent throughout this ride that flipped you upside down

He was gripping onto your hand for dear life

As promised, once you got off the ride, Kuroko beelined for the nearest trash can where he began to throw up

“Oh my god Tetsu! You really weren’t kidding, huh?” you said, softly chuckling as you rubbed his back

“I warned you,” he said hoarsely once he felt like he got it all out of his system

“Okay okay, I learned my lesson. Let’s just take it slow for some time alright?” You suggested, running your fingers through his hair in attempt to comfort him and simultaneously fix the mess

After about an hour of going on the slower and more tame rides, which was fun because it allowed you two to cuddle up together, you returned to the speedy rollercoasters

It was a 10/10 experience though, minus the part where Kuroko threw up (though it was kinda funny)

Kise

When you suggested a date at a theme park, Kise assumed that you wanted to relax on all the calm and slow rides

However, once you got there, you immediately pointed at the highest and biggest rollercoaster with an eager look in your eyes

“Let’s go there first!” you said excitedly, grabbing onto Kise’s hand to take him there

Kise just stared at it wide-eyed, “Y/N-cchi, that looks pretty fast. Are you sure you’re not scared?” he asked, hoping that you’d reconsider going on it

“I wanna go on it because it’s fast, dummy. Come on,” you replied, pulling him along with you

He put up a brave front whilst in line for the ride

But the moment he got into the seat, he was practically shitting himself

As the rollercoaster slowly made its way up to its highest point, Kise’s grip on your hand tightened to the point where you felt like he was gonna crush it

“Oh my god oh my god Y/N-cchi we’re gonna die,” he muttered frantically

“Ryouta we’re not gonna die,” you laughed, finding the way he clung onto you kind of cute

“No no, we will,” he said, barely able to keep his eyes open as the rollercoaster came to a halt at the top, “I just want you to know that I love you and I’m glad that I met you,” he blabbered, making you laugh even more

It seemed like he was going to say more, but then it dropped, and all you heard was his deafening screams

After a few more loops and drops where Kise hung onto you for dear life, the ride finally ended

“That wasn’t that bad,” Kise exhaled when you exited the ride

“Ryouta, you screamed so much that I think my left ear has gone deaf,” you glared at him

“I was just screaming for fun- not out of fear,” he lied

“Well, I guess you don’t mind going on more rides like that then,” you shrugged, grinning at him

He took a nervous gulp before nodding, “Yeah totally.”

The two of you ended up going on more rides after that, and Kise continued to act tough after each ride after screaming like a child in every one

“Pfft, that one wasn’t even scary.”

“Babe, you’re literally still hugging me.”

Midorima

Listen, he just wants a relaxing afternoon where you two walk around, eat some overpriced food and go on a few pleasant rides

But that wasn’t gonna happen on your watch

“We’re going on all the rides!” you said excitedly as you waited in the queue to enter the park

“Even the fast ones?” Midorima asked, slightly worried

“Especially the fast ones!” you beamed

His horoscope wasn’t particularly bad that day so it didn’t take too much convincing to get him on the rides because he just put his faith in the fortune

You can’t die if your horoscope is good that day right?

He wasn’t sure if he should be glad that he was meant to be taking his glasses off or more worried

Needless to say, he gripped onto your hand as tight as he could

He was surprisingly very silent during the ride

Granted, all he could see was a blur

But turns out that his silence was a result of the fear he felt

“See, that wasn’t that bad, you didn’t even scream once,” you said cheerily when you walked out of the ride

“Well that was probably because I couldn’t see anything,” he said, not letting go of your hand for a second, even after he regained his vision

In the end, the two of you ended up going on all the rides, but only revisite the slower ones because you didn’t cause any more distress to your poor boyfriend

Besides, it was much nicer holding his hand when he wasn’t crushing all its bones

Aomine

This boy would put up this tough front the entire car ride there, but you saw right through him

“I probably drive faster than those rollercoasters- I don’t see why people are so scared,” he scoffed

You just replied with a condescending hum, knowing that the second the ride starts, he’d be screaming his ass off

“Y/N, if you’re scared you can hold my hand, I’ll protect you,” he said smugly as he buckled up

“I feel like I should be the one telling you that,” you responded, getting more and more impatient for the ride to start so that you can watch him eat his words

Just like you predicted, he did not react well to the speed of the ride

But it was so much funnier than you could ever expect

The ride was slow at first as it inched towards its peak and Aomine grew more nervous the higher it went, but he didn’t show it

Well, that was until it dropped

“OH MY FUCKING GOD WE’RE GONNA DIE!!!!” he screamed, and you were sure the entire park heard him

Poor kids down below were horrified by the use of the profanities

Meanwhile, you could barely breathe because you were laughing so much

You couldn’t even see much because Aomine was clung onto you and his big head was all up in your face

Once you finally got off the ride that was Aomine’s hell on Earth, he was completely silent and you just stared at him, waiting for some sort of explanation before you began to tease him

“Hey, remember before the ride, when you said ‘I don’t see why people are so scared’?” you started, grinning wider than ever, “I’m inclined to believe that you see why now; it’s just a hunch though.”

Aomine glared at you as he groaned, “Shut up Y/N.”

You didn’t shut up

You managed to get him to go on a few more of those kinds of rides though, and he still tried to act tough every time

And he’d always end up screaming

And of course, you didn’t fail to bully him over it for the longest time after that

Murasakibara

Whilst he might complain about the excessive walking, he loves attraction parks

Churros, rollercoasters and spending time with you? It was pretty much the ideal way to spend his day

Furthermore, he has the mind of a child so all the rides and attractions sparked this tremendous excitement within him

He definitely prefers the more relaxing rides though because it gives him a chance to unwind and cuddle up next to you

But he also likes the faster rides too, so you didn’t need to do too much convincing to get him on them

He often has to tie his hair up before he goes on them though because it always just ends up getting in his eyes

(And yes he looks extremely hot when he does so)

He’s actually really unbothered by the speed and height of most of the rides

He’s the kind of guy that would try to have a conversation with you during the ride because he’s just not fazed by it at all

“Y/N-chin, it’s quite windy today isn’t it?” he says calmly as everyone around him hollers in terror

So most of the time it was you screaming and clinging onto his arm out of fear

Which he didn’t mind at all; he found it cute

Towards the end of the day, your feet were exhausted so the two of you decided to just sit on a bench and people-watch as you munched on some crepes

And when he took the first bit of that sweet delicacy, he literally could not get any happier than he was in that very moment

Akashi

Okay so, he kinda lacked a proper childhood so going to the attraction park with you would probably be his first time there

So you suggested going on the faster rides first and he didn’t seem to be opposed to it

He didn’t exactly know what to expect though

“They’re just fast moving trains, how fun could they be?”

He would hold your hand the entire time without even realising it out of the nervousness of not knowing what would happen

It was definitely strange to see Akashi Seijuro acting so vulnerable but it was still very precious

However, what was even stranger was to see him begin to holler in excitement during the ride

It took you by surprise because it was so out of character that you could barely even pay attention to the ride

Hearing Akashi’s normal firm and calm voice let out a cheery “Wooooh” was an experience

“Sounded like you really enjoyed that, Sei,” you giggled once the rollercoaster came to a halt

“Yes, it was actually extremely thrilling. Can we go on more rides like that?” he said, eyes full of a child-like excitement

“Of course we can,” you replied, feeling your heart warm up at how happy he seemed to be

And so, the two of you made sure to visit every single ride in the park so that Akashi could get the full experience

He even dragged you along to revisit some of his favourites as well

He was truly grateful that you suggested coming here because it was like he was catching up on an amazing experience he missed out on as a child

After that day, you two made it a priority to visit an attraction park at least once every few months and it became a kind of cute tradition that you always looked forward to

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #kuroko no basket x reader #aomine daiki #generation of miracles #kuroko tetsuya #kise ryouta #murasakibara atsushi #midorima shintaro #akashi seijuro #knb

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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 4 years ago

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Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Okita Chapter 5 English translation

This translation is of the 5th Okita chapter 《记忆ノ五》 from Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 as viewed through the extras menu... translated it because well... just look at the CG lol.

unfortunately, unlike yuugiroku 3, which i have CN tl for pretty much the entirety of the game, what tl i have for the main yuugiroku 2 story content is all over the place (missing chapters for hijikata [1, 2, 4, 8, 10], souji [4, 6-9], saito [6, 7, 9, and 10... i think? can’t be certain since the translations I found for his route were the only ones not divided by chapter], harada [1-4, 7, 9, 10] and kazama [4, 7, 8, 10, and possibly part of 9]. also, i never found anything for heisuke, yamazaki, sanan or shinpachi as copy-able text, so I just ended up translating whatever I felt like doing... which is what happens when my only goal is to simply fill up as much of my queue as possible.

also, sorry but what translations i’ll be posting for yuugiroku 2 won’t really be in order since i schedule my posts in the order i translate... and i didn’t exactly go from from one chapter to the next.

anyway, enjoy~ all images in the post were cut from my screen captured video via vlc.

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 Okita Chapter 5

Translation by KumoriYami

After receiving the mysterious vial from Sannan-san that was to be brought to Okita-san, I immediately went over to Okita-san's room to give it to him.

Yukimura: Okita-san, are you there?

Souji: I'm here.

Yukimura:......May I come in?

Souji: Go ahead?

Yukimura:......Excuse me/Pardon me.

His voice sounded somewhat dispirited, and as I went/entered into his room with these doubts......

The first thing I noticed was the bundled futon/bundle of blankets [sphere of blankets is the tl and i can't think of how else to reword that right now].

Yukimura: Okita-san? Were you sleeping?

Souji: Yeah. I was hiding under the blankets and crying since I couldn't do what i want [or something like that?].

Yukimura:…………

Did Okita-san want to go to the festival that badly [what i have translates more to "that much"]......?

Chizuru: Um/Well, Sannan-san had something for me to give to Okita-san/gave me something to give to Okita-san——

Souji: Sannan-san did?

Jumping out from beneath the futon/blankets, Okita-san sat up.

Yukimura: Yes. I was asked to give this to you.

Souji: ?

Once he saw the mysterious vial I handed to him, he tilted his head.

After/Once he read the attached letter, he immediately understood something.

Okita-san spoke with a bitter/forced smile.

Souji: Sannan-san is quite interesting——

Yukimura: Interesting?

Souji:......No, rather it's amazing how ruthless/callous/cold-hearted his way of thinking can be.

Yukimura:…………

Seeing how Okita-san was still smiling, my suspicions/doubts grew.

Yukimura:......Is it something bad?

Souji: It's nothing like that. Rather, it'd be better to say that this is Sannan-san's kindness.

Yukimura:.......But, that ruthlessness referred to/meant......

Souji: Hey, Chizuru-chan.

Yukimura; Y-Yes.

Souji: Is it considered a kindness if you do something that simultaneously has the potential to hurt someone else...?

Yukimura:…………

Okita-san spoke with a very serious expression......

I wonder/ed why?

Now, my heart felt full of/My heart now felt full of uneasiness/unease/worry......

Souji: Anyway, can you wait a bit for me? There's something I have to do.

Yukimura: A-Ah/Ah, uh, Okita-san......!?

Ignoring how I called after him, Okita-san left the room.

Where was he going......?

[after a while....]

Souji: I'm back, Chizuru-chan.

Yukimura:......Welcome back, Okita-san.

Souji: Then/Well, it's about time to go to the festival.

Yukimura: Eh!?

As soon as Okita-san came back, he said that/those words [reword again later?].

Yukimura: But, Okita-san still hasn't been given permission to go out/leave......?

Souji: It’s fine, there's nothing to worry about. We're wasting time, so shouldn't we go now? [reword again later? gave up for now]

Yukimura:???

Okita-san left the room with me while I was feeling/still feeling/ still confused/bewildered/dazed ——.

Yukimura:…………

At that moment, I couldn't see Yamazaki-san anywhere/Yamazaki-san couldn't be seen anywhere /.

As he watched me warily look around, Okita-san laughed.

Souji: You're going to trip if you wander around so much...... Look.

Yukimura: Eh————

Souji: Come here, Chizuru-chan.

He said to come here/Come here, is what he said...

I repeatedly shifted my gaze between Okita-san, with his gentle smile, and the hand he extended towards me.

Yukimura: Um/This, perhaps......

Souji: It's dangerous, so let's hold hands. There will be plenty of people at the festival so you might get lost if you’re not careful, right?

If I didn’t want to get lost, we could just do that until we reached the shrine at the festival.....

While I was still contemplating this, Okita-san however just smiled, and did not retract his hand.

Yukimura:…………

My heart felt like it was beating faster as I pressed a hand against my chest, while my other hand reached out towards Okita-san——.

Just as I was about to put my hand in his.

Yukimura:!?

I suddenly noticed that there was something odd behind the smiling Okita-san.

( The one) Lying/collapsed over there, wasn't that......?

Choice

Run up to that person Look at Okita-san <-

Yukimura:…………

Somehow I should have expected this/I don't know what I expected/why I had any expectations, and fearfully looked at Okita-san/stared back at Okita-san in horror.

Yukimura: Um. Could it be that, that just now you......

Souji: How perceptive (of you?). You're very sharp, Chizuru-chan.

Although I was praised by Okita-san, I couldn't feel happy right now......

Souji: The vial from Sanan-san seemed to contain medicine that makes people have good dreams.

Yukimura;......In other words/That is to say, sleeping pills.

I couldn’t help but furrow my brow at Okita-san, who was still smiling.

Yukimura: Okita-san, did you use that sort/this kind of thing on Yamazaki-san......?

Souji: It's fine, there shouldn't be/it doesn't seem like there are any side effects.

Yukimura:…………

That wasn't the issue I was concerned about, and I fell silent as my worries lingered.

Then/After, Okita-san bitterly smiled as he grabbed/caught my hand, which I hadn't extended towards him.

Souji: While/Although I don't intend to ask...... that medicine, perhaps Sannan-san is also taking/using it.

Souji: I think life is inconvenient now if you can’t sleep.

Although I did think that Sannan-san was a very gentle and kind person when I first met him.

Recently, I feel that he has been slowly descending into madness/slowly losing his sense of reason......

Yukimura:…………

Souji: What's wrong, Chizuru-chan. You look upset. The festival's today, so you should be happy/more spirited/cheer up.

I felt speechless while Okita-san smiled as he feigned ignorance/As Okita-san smiled and feigned ignorance, I felt speechless (reword?).

Although I was worried about Yamazaki-san, who was lying there on the ground, I was pulled away by Okita-san.

I'm sorry, Yamazaki-san......

Afterwards——

Yamazaki:......Ugh......

After Chizuru and Okita left headquarters, Yamazaki woke up shortly after.

Yamazaki was staggering as he sat up, and held his head as he spoke regretfully.

Yamazaki: To be caught off guard/I wasn’t careful......but I didn’t expect for this type of forceful method to be used......!

——end of chapter——

alas poor yamazaki. tis this kinda of treatment that makes me wanna translate a certain drama... but since it’s +20 min, that unfortunately won’t be a priority in the foreseeable future..

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki yuugiroku 2 #Okita Souji #Yukimura Chizuru #Yamazaki Susumu #hakuoki game translation

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aria-chicken-flugget · 4 years ago

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Disney World with The Brothers (+ Undateables)

HCs that no one asked for, i’m just self indulgent✨

Link to Undateables post

*Based on Disney World Orlando Resort*

The Brothers

Lucifer 🔥

The Mom TM

Has a fanny pack with all the tickets

Made a detailed itinerary of where each of you will go when, with whom and for how long

“Our scheduled break’s not for another 10 minutes”

Says he doesn’t need to go on the rides/ doesn’t enjoy it etc

Squealing inside at how much fun he’s actually having

“Wha - is Diavolo going on that train again?”

He literally wouldn’t even go to the parks if he didn’t enjoy it, wouldn’t see the point

“I’m busy enough as it is at home do you think I need this on top?”

This Sadist TM would force people on the rides they didn’t want to ride because It IS iN THe iTinERaRy

Would jam pack the days to get the full experience, wearing most out

But you request a rest day to which he’ll oblige

“Ugh why are we going here -“ “Because MC requested it, complain again and i’ll tear your ticket.”

Tears up when it’s the last night/ fireworks display

“MC, this was a rather fun idea. If you’d like to come again don’t hesitate to ask, i’ll take you.”

Mammon 💵

Goes against everything The Mom TM has worked in the itenerary, but is quickly stopped

Easily distracted and stops in the middle of walking to an attraction.

“Hey don’t stop in the sidewalk, genius.”

Literally bounces with excitement around the parks but blushes furiously when it’s pointed out by the brothers

“Oi quit that, I don’ know what ya talkin’ about”

Would sour real fast when having to queue, getting caught by The Mom when trying to cut the queue

“Why do we have to queue, huh? This better be worth it”

It is

Has the most expressive/funniest ride photographs

“Mammon that ride wasn’t that scary -“ “Who says i was scared, huh? I was making MC feel better about being scared...” Blush

Would push the other brothers out the way if they tried to sit with you on a ride

“But it’s my turn -“ “your turn my ass, that’s MY HUMAN”

Would sour when your attention is divided by the fireworks and him

Soon perks up when you ask to explore the park together and run around like kids at night

Is probably the most fun at this time as there’s not much queing when it gets late so he’ll grab your hand and take you everywhere

Levi 👾

Woooooooaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!

“This is like FINAL BOSS level cool! It’s almost worth being outside.”

The Vlogger TM

Literally documents anything and everything. Even when Beel’s eating a snack- makes it sound like the coolest adventure which it is

“Why are we going to THAT attraction? It’s the literal worst on all the reviews online.”

Secretly LOVES the attraction, would turn into a tomato when called out, fiercly denies it

“Y-you wanna ride with me? Uhhh ok, i guess... no no wait!”

Gets you two matching Mickey ears, along with any and all the possible merch

“In TSL, Henry went to an amusement park with all the Prince’s brothers and they had the best time and it was all Henry’s plan to help them get along and it worked, making their journey more -“ *Belphie Snores*

Looks for hidden Mickeys with you after he bought the book on them, as recommended online

*starts vlog* “Day Three and MC and I are yet to find the elusive hidden Mickeys -“

Can only really last til early afternoon before the heat/ social interaction gets too much for him and he may need to go

Recovers lightning fast when he sees you having fun with his brothers without him whilst he was taking a break

Snatches your hand to take you elsewhere, where d’you wanna go? What d’yo wanna do? Name it and he’ll do it lol Envyyy

Everyone is grateful for his vlogging by the end of the holiday, as it meant you all got to watch it back fondly when it was over

Satan 📚

Unlike Mammon, he successfully escapes The Mom and the itinerary when he wants to

However if you wanted him to stick around, he’d blush, “Alright, just for a while.”

Has a subdued smile on his face, enjoying it much more than he anticipated he would

Smiles widley at the parades, mainly because your smile was so bright as you watched

If he saw you eyeing up a giant Disney Balloon he would buy it, ignoring any protestations

Would back up any discourse over the itinerary just to mess with The Mom

“Perhaps the itinerary is not as ‘well thought out’ as you’d anticipated.”

Would begrudgingly play along with your waiting games whilst queing, secretly loving your company

Would be the one with the maps, and wouldn’t give one to Lucifer lol

Though somewhat gimmicky in his opinion, he’d deeply enjoy the Around the World showcase

Would last longer than anyone expected and would want to see the parks at night

“MC would you like to join me?”

Whilst taking your hand to explore the park’s atmosphere at night

LOVES the Haunted Mansion ride and the way you cling to his sleeve when riding with him

Asmodeus 💋

“Don’t forget to put on sunscreen! Protect your skin 💕”

Whilst Lucifer has a practical, generic fanny pack - Asmo’s is psychedelic and glittery

Packs lip balm, antibacterial gel and a mini fan

Serves all the Best Looks TM each day and takes amazing photos of everyone, with everyone

“Oh no, honey. It’s gonna be hot today you’ll want to wear something lighter like cotton or linen.”

Would whine when he starts to get sweaty around the parks

Would peck your cheek when you suggest a bathroom break to freshen up

LOVES the around the world showcase. All the people, all the culture all the music and colours!

Unsurprisingly, isn’t a fan of rollercoasters as it messes up his hair

Would buy you the cutest souvenir and gets matching bracelets with a small, sophisticated silver Mickey charm on each

Would spend lunch with you, checking on you ensuring your keeping your water up etc and feed you

Also intrigued by the parks at night but would be more interested in getting a good night’s sleep for his skin

However if you asked/wanted time in the parks at night he’d find a secluded area to watch the fireworks with an arm around your waist

Beelzebub 🍔

Would give you piggy back rides when you get tired

“When’s lunch?” “We just got here, Beel...”

Would wrap you in a bear hug if you packed snacks for him

*munch* *munch* “Do you want that? - thanks!” *munch*

Would stop at all the food stalls. Every. Single. One - “ThIS iSn’T iN ThE iTiNeRaRY”

“Here MC, try this! This looks good too, do you want one?”

Would help carry people’s belongings

Wouldn’t notice you put Mickey ears on him until he looked at the photos later

Would notice you eyeing up a parade and when you kept quiet as not to disrupt the itinerary, would speak up

If it doesnt go your way, he’ll sneak away with you “Then we’ll go see it together.” Puppy eyed smile

“Beel we gotta get in the queue or we won’t make the line in time!” “Just a second -“ *munch* *munch*

Wouldn’t mind if you wanted to ride with others, but would eventually get sour if you weren’t with him at all

Would hold your hand around the parks with one hand and eat ice cream with the other

Would put you on his shoulders so you could see the fireworks better

He LOVES the fireworks and wonders what they’d taste like “Beel, no.” “:(“

“Someone’s having fun, i’m glad!”

Carries you over one shoulder and a sleeping Belphie over the other

“I - want to come here again... with you.” Blush

Belphegor 😴

Much like Satan, Belphie would deliberately go against the Itinerary with success, and would take you and Beel with him

Would make everyone late to the park by sleeping in

If you wanted everyone to stick together, you’d convince him with a promise to let him nap on your lap later

Would say he hates being there and would actually hate being there

For the most part... what coaxes him is seeing how happy you are, and Beel being happy too

“Belphie, look how cool this ride is! Wanna go?” ‘Begrudgingly’ agrees with a smirk

Would fall asleep at lunch and would have to be slapped shaken awake

Hell would freeze over before he admitted to it... but he started to have a good time

Starts to get more involved if you hold his hand and encourage him, a small smile on his lips

LOVES Tower of Terror and any boat ride - he can fall asleep on the boat rides

He HATES the water rides but having convinced Lucifer on one under false pretences, his expression makes it worth it lol

That one Joker TM that ‘pretends’ to be asleep in any rollercoaster attraction photograph

Some times he is actually asleep in those photos, but no one knows which ones are real or fake

Doesn’t mind queues because it gives him time to chill and nap

Falls asleep on your shoulder at the fireworks

I will do the Undateables in a follow up Post! Might edit this one but have them for now because I hope they make you smile! ✨

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