#I’m literally procrastinating on getting to a point where I don’t hurt my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suchalonelysunflower · 4 years ago

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You’re the voice I hear inside my head, the reason that I’m singing (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings X Fem!Reader

Summary: Luke needs help writing a song, luckily you’re there to help him. You just hope your feelings for him won’t interfere in the writing process.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst if you blink. The reader uses she/her pronouns. Language, invasion of privacy, unprotected sex (don’t do it guys) oral female reciving. Maybe some grammatical errors (English it’s not my first language, sorry)

Word count: 4.5k

Author’s Note: Hello ✨ I’ve been working with this Luke piece since August and I finally stop procrastinating in order to finish it 🎉 Reblogs, comments, feedbacks and likes are always welcome and encouraged! I love to hear from you guys ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻

My materialist // Wanna be on my tag list?

He did it.

After almost two weeks of not getting anything good out of his head Luke finally beat the writer’s block.

He jumped out of his seat in the island kitchen and ran towards his music room with a very excited Petunia walking behind him with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Luke grabbed his notebook and started writing as soon as his ass hit the cushions of the little sofa he had there, getting already lost in the sound.

His eyes filled with joy as he wrote down the melody, muttering some words to go along with it and bobbing his head as the rhythm got better and better. He couldn’t feel prouder.

It wasn’t like him to have such a strong writer‘s block, whenever it happened his band mates were there to help him get through it. However, this time they weren’t here, they were still at the studio where he was supposed to be.

It was an unanimous decision, they all new Luke wasn’t at his best, always getting frustrated and closing himself up to others, refusing any help until he could come up with something on his own, so they recommended him to rest at home for a couple days before he totally burns out and, reluctantly, he agreed.

But all of that self pity ended now that he got a melody going on and a few lyrics written down. To say that he was in cloud nine was an understatement.

A few moments later his phone started ringing. He was doing so well that he didn’t think to answer it until he saw your name pop up.

“Leech!” He said with a smile once he picked up.

You scrunch your nose at the old nickname. You have known the man for at least 19 years and he still refuses to let go of the fact that you didn’t want to be his friend at the beginning because someone told you boys had leeches hidden in their pockets.

But, alas, you knew the nickname was not going anywhere so you decided to ignore it just this time “Hello, Hems!”

“I’m so glad you called! Just in time, actually” He said cheerfully.

“Well someone sounds happy for a change” You chuckled “What’s gotten you so amicable today, love?”

“I can’t tell you over the phone, you need to come in order to know what it is” Luke teased, not needing to see your face to know that you were rolling your eyes at him.

You chuckled again “Good thing I’m on my way then with some pizza. I’ll be there in approximately one Jonas Brothers’ song”

He laughed “You’re too good to me”

You sighed when he ended the call just a few seconds later “Only if you knew…”

You hated the cliche of falling for your best friend, but in your defense: your best friend was Luke Hemings, how could you not?

Once “Lovebug” ended you found yourself parking in his driveway. You shook your head at the irony of it all as you grabbed the pizza box and headed to the door. You were about to knock when suddenly he opened the door, flashing you one of his signature smiles that made your tummy feel weird.

“Were you waiting by the door?” You asked as you extended your arm to give him a side hug, which he gladly took and hugged you back, bringing you even closer to him. You just hoped he couldn’t feel the loud beatings of your heart.

“By the window, actually” Luke laughed as he took the pizza box from you and walked to the kitchen, placing it on top of the counter “I just can’t wait to show you what I got!”

You could see how excited he was, the gleam in his eyes was everlasting as he talked and his smile reached his eyes with ease, making little wrinkles appear by the sides of them. You smiled back at him and nodded, letting him lead the way.

He quickly took your hand, almost running as he guided you to his mini studio. You sat on his sofa, petting Petunia as he accommodated himself and his guitar.

“I figured it out!” Luke said with pride in his eyes “I conquered the block!”

“Luke that’s amazing!” You knew he was struggling a lot lately, that was one of the main reasons you checked up on him more often this past few weeks “Omg, I can’t wait to hear it!”

Luke nodded and wasted no time in starting playing his new song.

“I thought I had it all, thought I let you go. But truth be told, I’m just a fool in a one man show”

You listened carefully to what he was saying, loving the lyrics already before you started noticing something weird in the melody… there was something familiar in it, but you couldn’t pinpoint what.

“The secrets I held. The lies I told myself. All were worth it cause it meant I get to see your face”

Once the chorus started, you knew where you’ve heard this before.

Luke was staring at you the whole time since he started singing, wanting nothing more than his best friend’s approval, but was met with your concerned face as he continued.

“I never give you away, cause I’ve already made that mistake. If-“ He stopped completely when he saw the way you were looking at him “You hate it.”

“What?” You asked, taken by surprise by his hurt face.

“You can tell me if it’s bad, you know? I won’t get mad or anything but-“

You cut him off, shaking your head as you place your hand on his thigh “No, Luke. It’s not that at all”

“Then what, Y/N?” He said, putting his guitar away from him “Cause you don’t give me that look unless you’re feeling somewhat uncomfortable. I know the lyrics need arrangements and-“

“Luke!” You interrupted his rambling one again, knowing how he gets when he’s flustered “The lyrics are fine! Everything is fine! I really liked that last line you sang. But…”

“But?”

You sighed “Let me show you something”

You took your phone out of your bag and started searching through your songs until you found what you were looking for “Please, don’t be mad” You begged with a sigh as you pressed play on one of Taylor Swift’s songs.

Luke didn’t understand what you were talking about until he heard the first few chords of the song. His eyes winded as plates as he listened to the melody he swore he just invented out of the blue, a deep disappointment came across him at the realization he just repeated a melody that someone else already created.

You paused the song when you noticed his expression change all of the sudden. The gleam in his eyes completely disappeared as a dark gloom clouded his blue irises “Luke?” You asked, but the tall blonde was already getting up and started walking out of the studio “Luke!”

You followed him into the hall, where you could catch a glimpse of him tugging on his curls and cursing to himself. You called his name again with no avail, he wasn’t listening as he drowned in self pity and embarrassment.

“I should’ve known!” He said loudly this time “Fuck! It was too good to be true”

“It’s okay, Lu-“ You tried, but he quickly turned around and cut you off.

“It’s not okay, Y/N!” He yelled, making you take a step back. It wasn’t like him to get so angry to the point of yelling, but you can’t say that you don’t understand his frustration “When is plagiarism ever okay?! I’m such a fucking idiot”

“Hey, no, no, no, no, no” You interrupted, standing on your tiptoes to grab him by his shoulders and make him look at you “You won’t talk about my best friend like that”

Luke looked away, not wanting to meet your eyes at this moment. So you took matters into your own hands, literally, and placed your palms on his cheeks, softly squeezing them together and forcing him to look at you “The song is great” You said “Yes, the melodies are similar but you can work on that. You’re Luke Hemmings for crying out loud!”

He placed his hands over yours and pushed them away in a soft movement, not letting go of you as he did “Well, Luke Hemmings can’t write a song even if his life depended on it” He sighed, more calmed now “I don’t know what to do! I don’t even know if there is something I could do”

You thought for a second “Maybe not,” You said “But there might be something we could do”

Luke furrowed his eyebrows “Huh?”

“Yeah,” You nodded “I know I basically know nothing about melodies and composing a song. But I know a lot about poems and writings!” You said with a smile “I also know that you’ve been having a rough time lately and I just want to help in every way I can. I hate to see you like this, Luke. Let me help you?”

He stared at you and immediately knew that he couldn’t say no to your pleasing eyes. The fact that you wanted to help him took him by surprise, but he should’ve known, you have the biggest heart on earth and he knew he could count on you, always. Hell, you even moved to another continent to support him and his friends. You were always there for him, always taking care of him while also making fun of him and just being the best friend there is. And now you wanted to help him get over his writer's block? He could kiss you right now!

“Woah, slow down tiger” You laughed “We need to make a song first”

Did he say that out loud? Oh shit.

“I- just. Um-“ He rambled, trying to hide the pink that colored his cheeks “Thank you”

You just nodded and walked towards the kitchen, part of it because you were still hungry, but in reality it was to hide the way you couldn’t stop smiling.

“C’mon, Hems! Time to write a song”

You have seriously underestimated the whole writing and composing process of a song. How could Taylor Swift make it look so easy?!

It’s been almost a week and you have been staying with Luke 24/7 locked inside his little studio as you revise song idea after song idea, going back and towards without really going anywhere and only getting out to walk Petunia, eat and go to the bathroom. Once one of you gets too tired you decide to take a nap in Luke's bedroom like you always do since you were kids. None of this served as much help to calm down your feelings towards the tall Australian. In fact, you are almost sure they grew stronger than before.

You couldn’t help but get lost in him. Every subtle movement he makes; how he licks his lips and bites them every time he is concentrating on something; how his fingers move so smoothly on the guitar or the piano; how he hums to himself in that melodic voice that gives you chills everytime you listen to it… But there is also the way his eyes linger on you for more than a second; how he lays his head on your shoulder and starts playing with your hand; how he cuddles with you at night and always gives you one kiss on the cheek every morning and every night. He’s got you hooked and he doesn’t even know it.

“What do you think of this, little leech?” The oblivious man called, making you break away from your thoughts as he played some notes on the piano.

It was a sweet melody, melancholic but comforting.

“So we are settled that it’s going to be a balad?” You ask once he's done.

He pressed his lips together in a fine line “Not sure, feels like it’s missing something”

“Almost like a breakdown of other instruments, right?” You ask and he smiles.

“It’s almost like you can read my mind, love”

You smiled, hiding your blushed cheeks from his sight as your gaze drifted back to your little notebook of poems. And, almost without noticing, you start humming.

“Mmmh, Hope and I pray, darling that you will stay… butterfly lies..”

“Take them away” Luke finishes for you. He slowly gets up and sits right next to you, placing his head on your shoulders as you close your book “You’re really good with this,” He said, interlocking his fingers with yours “Why won’t you let me see more of your writings?”

He lifted his other hand to try to snatch the book out of your hands, but you were faster and put it out of his reach “Cause! It’s private” You laughed “Don’t want you to laugh at me or something”

“I could never laugh at you,” He said softly.

You turn your head to the side and almost choke on air as you notice his proximity, making you hyper aware of his breath on your lips and the way he was looking into your eyes, almost like if he wanted to say something but didn’t have the words to do it.

“Luke, I-“ You said in a whisper, his eyes fixed on your lips as he hummed “I- I think I’m a little bit hungry…” You lied, not knowing exactly what to do.

Luke just looked at you and nodded, not hiding his disappointment as he separated himself a little bit so you could both head out to the kitchen. Once there, he went to the stereo and connected his phone so you could have a more relaxing atmosphere.

You started making dinner, nothing too elaborate but complicated enough so you could focus on that rather than what just happened between you two. You knew you were just friends to him, so this new change in his demeanor was surprising and confusing to say the least.

Suddenly, your favorite song started playing. It was an old jazz song that reminded you of home and soon enough you found yourself humming along.

Luke stared at you as you prepared the meal, completely awestruck as he heard you sing softly along the lyrics. He smiled to himself and walked up to you, offering you his hand before asking: “Dance with me?”

You chuckled as you took his hand and let him guide you to the living room. He placed his hand on your lower back as he held your palm with the other one. You placed your free hand on his shoulder and let him guide you through the melody, already feeling the beating of your heart go ten times faster than it should.

You softly placed your head on his chest, relaxing as you felt the vibrations of his soft voice singing along as you slowly danced together.

“I like this” He murmured while his hand caressed your back and his chin rested on your head, placing a little kiss to it.

“Me too”

You got out of the shower and put on one of Luke’s shirts, ready to get on the bed and let all your thoughts rest for the day as you drift to sleep. You sighed as you looked in the mirror and tried to calm your feelings down, hoping that this time your heart will listen.

You headed to Luke’s room, wanting nothing more than to lay down and relax. But you never expected to see what you saw.

When Luke noticed that you had came into the room he quickly closed your notebook and placed it on your side of the bed, hoping that you didn’t realize what he was doing.

“Luke, what the fuck!?” You asked in an angry tone as you walked to the bed and grabbed your notebook in your hands “I told you this was private! How could you betray my trust like that?!”

Luke looked terrified, he never liked you angry, especially if you were angry at him. He tried to speak, but you quickly turned around and started grabbing all your things and put it in the bag you brought to stay over.

“Wha-What are you doing?” He asked confused.

“I’m going home” You said in a huff, turning around to put on your leggings and shoes.

“What?!” Luke jumped from his side of the bed and almost ran to you “Y/N, please. I’m sorry! I didn’t know it meant that much to you!” You ignored him “Please don’t go! It was a mistake, I’m sorry!”

You glared at him “I asked you not to do it! God, Luke! This is a total invasion of my privacy. Best friends don’t do that to each other!”

You tried to walk past him, but he quickly grabbed your arm and made you stop “Well best friends tell each other everything, don’t you think?!” Now he seemed angry as well.

“What haven’t I told you?!”

Luke rolled his eyes, letting go of your arm “Uh, I don’t know! Maybe the fact that you are in love with someone and you didn’t tell me?!”

You were taken aback by his words, furrowing your brows in confusion. He took your silence as a sign to continue.

“The poems, the writings you have there… They are beautiful and heartbreaking, Y/N” He explained, much more calmed “All those words are impossible to write unless you feel what you are writing. The message is right there, clear as water and you didn’t want me to read it. Why?”

His blue eyes seemed like a storm when he looked at you. You could tell he was hurting from all of this, couldn’t he tell who those writings are for?

“Why do you think? You blabbering idiot?” You asked softly, eyes meeting the floor, hoping he got the message.

Luke’s whole demeanor softened and he took in your words. His heart was beating fast as he took two steps to be completely in front of you.

He cupped your cheeks into his hands and made you look at him, telling you everything you need to know with just one look.

“Luke-“ He didn’t have you time to respond as he captured your lips with his, making you drop your stuff to the ground as you started kissing him back.

You placed your hands on the back of his head, softly caressing his curls as he deepened the kiss, parting your lips so he could explore your mouth as he wished for so many years now and making you let out a soft moan as he did so.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this” He said, kissing you once again “I thought I was being too obvious”

You chuckled “Well, not obvious enough, Hemmings” You pecked his lips one more time.

He smiled into the kiss as he let his hands wander down your back, softly squeezing your ass as he started walking you towards the bed, letting you fall delicately as he hovered over you.

You whimpered as you felt his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, sucking lightly and leaving marks wherever he went.

“Luke, what-?” You moaned, tangling your fingers around his curls and pulling him up to meet your gaze “What does this mean for us? What does this make us?”

Without wasting a breath he said confidently “I want to make you mine, love. If you let me, would you be mine? And I’ll be yours”

You looked at him in the eyes and you swore you’d never fallen harder than this.

You nodded “I was always yours, my love”

Luke smiled as he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, bringing your lips together in a kiss filled with love, passion and need. All that you guys ever wanted from each other.

You could feel his other hand wandering around under your/his shirt, softly caressing your breast and making you moan.

“Can I take this off, love?” He asked, playing with the hem of your shirt.

You nodded and wasted no time in getting rid of the fabric, throwing it somewhere around the room before his lips started marking his way down your neck again, this time with hunger as he trailed down from your throat to your breast, kissing one of them as his hand massaged the other, switching from time to time so none of them gets neglected for long.

Your soft moans and whimpers were music to his ears as he felt his erection growing harder with every little breath that came over your mouth. You could feel his erection through his pants, making you groan as you moved your hips to get some kind of friction where you needed it the most.

Luke noticed your little desperate movements and smirked as he let his hand travel down your stomach, ghosting over your sensitive bund over your clothes.

“Is this okay?” He asked when his fingers started pulling down the waistband of your leggings and panties.

“Yes,” You whimpered “Yes, Luke. Please”

You lifted your hips to help him take off your clothes completely, leaving you naked under him.

Luke sucked on a breath and moaned once he got a glimpse of your naked body “So perfect” He whispered, kissing your forehead “So beautiful” He kissed your lips, only to continue kissing down on your body till he reached your aching pussy “So wet for me, my love” He moaned before placing a kiss on your clit, making you thrust your hips at the sudden touch.

He grabbed your hips and pin them down as he started fucking into you with his tongue. Sucking and licking at all the right spots in a rhythm that made you see stars.

You grabbed onto his curls and brought him closer to you. Moaning his name over and over again “Luke,” You pant “I need more, Luke. Please”

Luke got the message as he added a finger to his ministrations, pumping in and out of your entrance “Is this good, Y/N?” But his question was answered by a sinful moan of yours “Talk to me, love” He said, adding another finger.

“Fuck! So good, Luke” You moaned, letting your head fall on the soft pillow “So. Fucking. Good”

He continued to pump his fingers into you at a fast pace while his mouth was locked on your clit, sucking and licking it with delight like it was his favorite meal. Groaning as he felt you clench around his digits when he hit one special spot inside you “Are you close, beautiful?”

You whimpered and nodded in return, not being able to form a coherent sentence at this moment of pure ecstasy.

“Cum for me, my love” He said, kissing the inside of your thigh and speeding his pace “Cum all over my fingers” And so you did.

Luke groaned as he felt your juices drip past his fingers and onto the mattress, swearing that he’s never seen such a prettier sight than your face right now.

You whined as he pulled his digits out of you, but the tight knot in your belly grew as you heard him pulling out his pants and sliding back between your legs.

His face was mere inches from yours once he settled back on the bed and on top of you. You smiled.

“Hi” You said, trying to catch your breath after your first orgasm.

“Hey” He smiled, kissing your forehead and pressing his against yours “Are you sure you want this?” He asked “Its okay if you don’t and we can stop whenever you-“

You shut him off with a kiss “I want this” You said in a whisper “I want you”

That was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly he started sliding into you, making you both moan because of the stretch.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stopping when he saw your face wincing in pain.

You nodded “So big, need a minute” You said. Luke understood and started pepper kissing your face, not leaving any space untouched until you gave him the go-to to keep going.

Luke groaned as he bottom down, giving you a minute to get used to his length. You were moaning his name as you felt him deep inside you, quickly replacing the pain with pleasure.

“Move. Please, Luke” You begged.

He started moving his hips at a slow pace, not wanting to hurt you if he went too hard too fast. It was only when you wrapped your legs around his waist and brought him closer to you that he got the message.

“Faster, fuck. Please, go faster!” You moaned into his ear. Every little sound you made going straight to his cock, quickening the pace as he started fucking you fast and rough.

Your moans became higher pitch as you got closer and closer to your climax. Your nails ran down his back, leaving red trails for you to trace later.

“Fuck, Y/N” Luke groaned “I’m so close, love”

His hips started thrusting relentlessly, chasing his climax as well as yours, making the bed hit the wall with every thrust of his hips.

“I’m gonna cum” You moaned with every move of his hip “I’m gonna cum, Luke. Oh god”

You let out a pornographic moan as you felt your walls clench around his cock, letting go all over him as you tried to catch your breath in all your euphoria.

Soon enough you felt Luke’s thrusts become sloppy and harder, twitching inside you as he painted your walls with his release as he moaned your name over and over again.

He grabbed your cheek and pulled your face closer to him so you could kiss as you ride down your highs, whispering sweet praises to each other as he pulled out of you and cuddled you close.

“That was…”

“I know”

You both laughed softly as Luke kissed your cheek and got up to bring a warm cloth to clean you up and also grabbing a shirt so you could sleep more comfortably. He laid down beside you and pulled you closer to him, kissing the shell of your ear until you both drifted to sleep.

You woke up a couple of hours later, feeling the other side of the bed cold as ice. You looked for Luke around the room but were unable to find him. The wheels in your head started turning as you looked around the room, that’s when you heard the soft sound of the piano playing in the background.

With a shake of your head you got up and started making your way to the grand piano he had in his living room and, sure enough, Luke was sitting there writing the song.

“Inspiration struck?” You asked, making him jump at the sound of your voice.

He visibly relaxed as he saw you walk up to him in nothing but his shirt “Needed to write it down” He said, kissing your lips as you sat next to him.

You looked at the music sheets he got scattered around “You almost finished? How?”

“Turns out I just needed my muse by my side. Admitting my love for her was the only thing I needed to finally get everything right again”

You blushed at his words and pulled him closer for another kiss “Will you sing it to me?” He nodded.

“Lover of mine..”

Tag: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof

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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years ago

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to be honest, capable (of holding you) (part 2/3)

He walks forward, crouching over the snake, and when it doesn’t stir at all, he works up his courage and pokes it, just a little. Its scales are warm and smooth under his fingertip, and he resists the urge to stroke them. He doubts he could get away with that.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Thomas didn’t know that Janus could turn into an actual snake, but he’s glad to hang out with him regardless. More than glad; ecstatic, even, because he’s been trying to figure out how to befriend him for ages, and this seems like a good first step. What he can’t figure out is why human-Janus is being so weird about it.

(Alternatively: Janus doesn’t trust easily. He wishes he could stop trusting Thomas— it would be so much less terrifying.)

Chapter Warnings: blood and injury, Remus being mildly unsettling

Chapter Word Count: 5,074

Pairing: platonic Thomceit

(part 1) (part 3)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

They don’t talk about it.

Thomas would very much like to talk about it. But whenever he goes to bring it up, Janus glares at him in a way that promises a world of trouble if he so much as breathes a word, and Thomas really does not want to set back any of the progress he’s already made with him, so he shuts up about it. He’s not entirely sure why Janus is so opposed to addressing it; it can’t be that he doesn’t want the others to know, after all, because all the others are literally parts of Thomas and as such are privy to the knowledge of everything that Thomas experiences.

As best as Thomas can tell, it’s some sort of embarrassment that holds Janus back, some sort of shame, and Thomas doesn’t get it. Surely he knows that Thomas doesn’t mind at all, that Thomas enjoys the time they spend together, even if their conversations are far more one-sided than he would like. Janus seems to be under the impression that coming to him at all is in some way unseemly, while Thomas just wants him to be comfortable enough to approach him as a human.

But as more time passes, that seems less and less likely. Thomas spends far more time with snake-Janus than with human-Janus, and Janus begins to come with him even when the sun shines bright and his spot by the window is available. Thomas becomes quite familiar with carrying a weight looped around his neck, and wishes he could puzzle out why Janus is acting this way.

The worst part is that with every passing day, he feels like he understands Janus less, not more. Because the way he acts during meetings and discussions, when he pops in to offer opinions and advice masked as sarcasm and cutting quips, is entirely different to the way he acts as a snake, when he and Thomas are alone together, when he leans into all the contact Thomas has to offer, seeking warmth, and, Thomas suspects, company. It’s almost as if he’s dealing with two entirely different people, each one unwilling or unable to discuss the other, and frankly, Thomas has no idea what to do about it.

Because he’s worried that if he pushes too hard, demands one answer too many, Janus will stop approaching him at all, in any form. And that is the last thing he wants.

So, he leaves it be, and resigns himself to the idea that human-Janus may just remain incomprehensible to him, and that snake-Janus is the closest he will get to making a friend out of him. And if that turns out to be the case, then gosh darn it, he will be the best friend to snake-Janus that he possibly can be.

This has the side effect of leading him to a snake-centric fact-finding mission, which Logan appreciates, at least, because “even if the information may not be applicable to most aspects of your life, at least you’re learning something, Thomas.” Which he supposes is fair. He learns a great many things about snakes over the course of a few days, most of it interesting, if not particularly relevant. He doesn’t know how much of this actually applies to Janus, since he’s not a real snake.

Though he does find out that snakes don’t have eyelids. That would explain the whole no-blinking thing.

Other than his impromptu investigations, they fall into an equilibrium fairly easily. Janus will seek him out at all hours of the day and wrap himself around his arm or neck, sometimes staying awake and aware and sometimes drifting off into sleep. And when he’s fed up with the company, he leaves, disappearing with neither warning nor fanfare. Thomas settles into this new routine with little effort, and decides that if this is all he’s going to get from Janus, he’ll take it.

He gets used to it, so much so that he stops looking every time he feels Janus curl around him. This turns out to be a mistake.

He’s procrastinating, as per usual. His deadline is a full week away, and even Virgil has been unable to provide the urgency that Thomas needs to push through and finish his latest project. He knows that this will only end badly, that he’s going to end up staying up until the early hours of the morning in a few days if he doesn’t get started now, but he simply doesn’t feel like it. So, he’s scrolling through Amazon instead, clicking through pages of items that he neither needs nor particularly wants.

He’s been looking at a lot of frogs, lately. Cute, decorative frogs, the kinds that sit on mantles and don’t do much of anything. And plushies, too, and those are actually tempting. He’s pretty sure that it’s Patton’s influence.

“What do you think?” he asks, holding up his arm so that Janus can see the screen. Janus hisses quietly, and he laughs. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He doesn’t have the money to spend on a bunch of decorative frogs, even if he had a strong inclination toward doing so, but it’s fun to look. He’s seriously considering a stuffed animal, but he’s pretty sure that Logan intends to talk him down from that, so there’s no real need to be concerned about it. Even if he ends up buying one after all, he thinks it would be worth it.

He glances down at Janus, trying to figure out if he’s enjoying this at all, or if he’s just irritated. And that’s when he finally notices the blood.

He freezes up, his muscles tensing, and blinks hard, hoping that it’s a trick of the light, or that spending so many hours doing practically nothing has fried his brain at last. But no; Janus’ scales are dotted with rusty red, and Thomas traces the blood back to a long gash trailing down his side, sluggishly oozing, slowly dripping onto his arm. He stares for a long moment, his mind stalling, and he wonders if the scent of iron flooding his nose is real or imaginary. Or rather, real by a certain standard, since everything to do with his sides is technically imaginary, but oh god, why is he bleeding so much? He thought that his sides could wave off injuries, that nothing could truly affect them unless they wanted it to? Or is that just Logan? And then there’s the question of what did this to him in the first place, and how exactly he’s supposed to treat someone who’s a figment of his imagination, and whether or not any of the real medical supplies he has would work at all—

Focus, Thomas.

It’s like a whisper in his ear, gentle and firm. Logan’s voice. The world snaps into sharp clarity, mind and adrenaline working in tandem.

“Oh my god,” he says, and Janus’ head swivels to face him. The movement is slow, almost lethargic, as if he’s operating on a time delay. “You’re hurt. Okay. Well, not okay. But you’ll be okay.”

He has a first aid kit in the bathroom. He has no idea whether that will help or not, but he won’t know until he tries, as his logic helpfully points out. So the first order of business is to get to the bathroom. He stands, setting his laptop to the side, trying to jostle Janus as little as possible. Now that he’s paying attention, more and more details filter in; Janus’ grip on his arm is looser than usual, his eyes dull and glazed. His hat, usually so perfectly placed, is just slightly askew.

He makes it to the bathroom in short order, yanking the kit out from under the sink and nearly spilling its contents across the floor. He’ll need both hands for this, and he looks to Janus with no small amount of trepidation, wondering how well he’ll take being moved. He doesn’t want to cause him more pain than necessary, and he doesn’t know how aware he currently is, doesn’t know if he’ll lash out if he feels threatened. He gives him an experimental nudge, prodding at him with one finger, and Janus hisses, shifting his coils to hold on tighter.

“C’mon,” Thomas says. “You gotta let me help you, buddy.”

There is is again: buddy. He still doesn’t think it fits quite right, but it seems to slip out anyway, and now is hardly the time to worry about it, not when Janus still shows no sign of budging.

“Please, Janus,” he says, dangerously close to begging. “I promise, I’m not gonna let anything else happen to you, but you need to let me see where you’re hurt.”

Janus’ tongue flickers out, tasting the air, and his eyes seem to focus just a bit. One minute passes, and then another, and Thomas is about to try to remove him by force when finally, he lets go, slithering onto the counter, his motions hesitant and pained, softly hissing all the while. Blood begins to drip onto the sink, the sickening red smearing across the countertop.

“Thank you,” Thomas says, not bothering to hide his relief. “Okay, um, I’ve got bandages. And painkillers, if you want them… can snakes take painkillers?” He sets things out as he names them, slowing as he hits a snag. Not only does he not know if snakes can take painkillers, but he also doesn’t know if there are any other substances in here that would do more harm than good, or if there are any special steps he should take due to his scales, or the fact that he’s cold-blooded. In fact, he has absolutely no idea how to treat a snake, and the idea that he might end up making things worse is enough to send his anxiety ratcheting up a few notches.

Is he overthinking this? He might be overthinking this. But what if he’s not?

Try to remain calm. If you don’t know enough to work within this situation, change the situation.

Logan again, though he’s not sure how that’s supposed to help. He would change the situation if he could— heck, that’s what he’s trying to do— but if it were so simple as wishing this whole scenario away, he would have done it by now. He’s not sure how to—

Oh, wait. Change the situation, or change Janus’ situation?

He has absolutely no idea how to treat a snake. But Janus doesn’t have to be a snake.

He crouches down so that he’s on eye level with Janus, who is limp and unmoving on the sink counter, tracking his motions with clouded eyes. It’s not just the large gash, he realizes; that’s the worst of it, but there are several shallower cuts, all still open and bleeding, and he swallows hard.

“Okay, so, I don’t want to make things any worse,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Do you think you could turn back into a human for me? Just so that I know what I’m doing?”

Not that he knows much about treating humans either, but at least he’d know where to start. Perhaps if Janus’ injuries were less severe, he could work with them in this state, but that prominent gash looks deep and angry, probably about six inches long, wide and painful, rending scales apart and leaking dark blood and god, he is so afraid of making this worse—

Janus stares at him, and doesn’t react.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas says, because he is. He doesn’t know why Janus only initiates contact with him as a snake, doesn’t know why the very idea of deviating from that seems to disquiet him. Asking him to be human now, like this, almost seems wrong, like they’ll be breaking what understanding they do have between them, breaking the peace they’ve found with each other lately. But then, the peace is already broken, he thinks, has been broken since Janus showed up bleeding. “I know you probably don’t want to. But I want to make this better, and I don’t think I can if you’re uh, shaped like this. I… I guess I’m asking you to trust me.”

It’s a tall order, and he is well aware of that. Janus is Deceit, after all, and Deceit is practically the antithesis of trust. He’ll probably have to work with Janus as a snake after all, and he’s just resolving himself to do the best he can when Janus shifts in place, raising his head.

Thomas isn’t sure how to process what happens next. One part of his brain tells him that the change happens slowly, that Janus’ form stretches and morphs in impossible ways, scales fading away and features rearranging before his eyes. The other part of his brain insists that the shift is instantaneous, that it happens as quickly as blinking, that in one moment, there is a snake curled on the counter and in the next, there is a man, with no gradual transition between the two. But however it happens, Janus now sits in front of him, arms and legs all present, hunched in on himself and wheezing. One hand flies to his side, clutching at his shirt.

Thomas blinks. For a second, his mind fights with itself, trying to decide on what, exactly, he just watched. Then, he decides that it doesn’t matter, that he’ll have a crisis about it later, and that there are more important things to concentrate on.

He reaches out, placing a steadying hand on Janus’ shoulder. “Easy, easy,” he says, raising his voice to be audible over Janus’ gasps. “Are you okay?”

It takes a minute for Janus to get his breathing under control, and when he does, he looks up at Thomas, his expression pinched. “Just fine,” he rasps. “Absolutely perfect, can’t you tell?” His voice is strained, tension showing in the lines around his eyes and in the thin set of his mouth. “Really, Thomas, the fuss is hardly necessary. I—” He cuts off with a slight gasp, eyes squeezing shut, and Thomas feels his heart clench.

“Hm, yeah, no, I think I’ve got the right to fuss a little bit,” he says, hoping his voice stays level. He looks him up and down, searching for the injury, and finds nothing; his shirt appears immaculate, his whole outfit as perfectly assembled as usual, not a rip or tear in sight. If it weren’t for the pain on his face, the tremors wracking his frame, Thomas wouldn’t suspect that he was injured at all, and he frowns. “Can you, uh—” He gestures— “take off your shirt, maybe? So I can see where you’re hurt?”

Janus sighs heavily, as though the request has greatly burdened him. He waves one hand in the air, and his shirt and capelet vanish, revealing his bare torso. Under any other circumstance, Thomas might be fascinated by the scales that trail all along his chest and left arm, but right now, his attention centers on the gash bloodying his side, and the thinner scratches that cover him. They all look bigger than they were before, more serious, and he hopes that he didn’t make the wrong decision in requesting him to shift. If it had been a bad idea, he would have refused, right?

“God, Janus,” he says. “What happened?”

Janus sighs again, rolling his eyes. “A mishap in the Imagination,” he says. “Unfortunately, both Roman and Remus designed the place so that its effects stick around even after leaving.”

… Alright. That’s probably something to talk about later; he doesn’t particularly like the reminder that he has no idea how most of the mindscape works. “But I thought you could heal yourselves?” he can’t help but ask. He vividly remembers the day he met Remus, the way that none of his attacks seemed to affect Logan for more than a few seconds.

“We all can, to some degree,” Janus agrees. “It’s more difficult for some of us than it is for others.” He hesitates, and the next words come out slow and almost defensive. “I am capable of it, if I succeed in persuading myself that the problem doesn’t exist in the first place, but in order to do so, I need to sufficiently distance myself from any negative sensations that accompany the harm. I am… currently finding that difficult.” He glares. “I’ll mange perfectly well, given time. There is no need for any of this.” He waves an arm to punctuate the declaration, and it might have been somewhat convincing if it weren’t for the fact that he immediately curls in on himself, face paling, like he’s pulled something the wrong way.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Well, how about you let me help you anyway, just for my peace of mind?”

Janus stares at him for a long moment, face unreadable. Finally, he glances away. “Do what you wish,” he says. “If you want to waste time on this, be my guest.”

He hums noncommittally, already inspecting the wound. “I don’t think that taking care of you is a waste of time,” he says, fishing through the first aid kit. He comes up with a bottle of extra-strength Tylenol, looking up just in time to see what can only be an expression of shock fade from Janus’ face, and god, what must he be doing wrong if that is Janus’ reaction to being told that he cares about him? He can’t unpack that right now, or else he might cry, so he holds out the Tylenol instead. “Painkillers?”

Janus nods slightly, and takes two dry. From there, Thomas works in silence, cleaning the wounds as best he can and bandaging them. It takes longer than he expects, and he debates whether or not the long gash will need stitches. He decides not to make the attempt, trusting that what Janus says is true and that he will be able to heal before too long. So he wraps bandages around his torso, and Janus, for his part, remains perfectly still, staring straight ahead, an occasional soft hiss the only thing that betrays his discomfort.

“Okay,” he says quietly, inspecting his handiwork. “I think that’s the best I can do.”

Janus shoots him an unreadable look. “In that case,” he says, “I believe I’ll be going now.”

He hops down from the counter before Thomas can stop him, and his face crumples like a wet sheet of paper. Thomas catches him as his knees give out, hooking his hands under his arms. He is surprisingly light, his skin cool to the touch.

“How about we don’t do that, actually,” he says. “I’ll tell you what, let’s go to my room, and I can work and you can get some rest?”

Janus hisses, trying to jerk away. It’s not difficult to prevent him from doing so; he has all the strength of a floppy pool noodle. “Oh yes, because I’m in dire need of a babysitter,” he spits out, and perhaps Thomas should feel intimidated, but looking at him, at the way all the color has drained from his face, at the way his eyes have glazed over even as they dart around the bathroom, all Thomas can muster up is a deep worry.

“I’m not trying to babysit you,” he says. “Believe me, I know that you of all people don’t need babysitting. But if you try to sink out now, I’m just gonna be stressed out, so if you’d stick around for a little bit, I would really appreciate it.”

Janus stills. The silence stretches on.

“Fine,” Janus says. “Sure. Whatever.”

Thomas restrains himself from letting out a sigh of relief, instead adjusting his grip on Janus until he is only supporting part of his weight. From the look on his face, Janus wants very much to grumble about the indignity of the situation, but miraculously, he remains quiet all the way to Thomas’ room, though he begins to drag his feet when he sees what Thomas intends.

“If you want me to rest,” he says, “I am perfectly capable of doing so in my own room. There’s hardly a need for me to take up space in your bed.”

“Okay,” Thomas says, lowering him to sit on the bedsheets and doing his level best to ignore his glare, “but then I won’t know that you’re alright. Also, I don’t see what the big deal is? It’s not like we haven’t done this before. You were just, uh, snakier.”

He knows immediately that it is the wrong thing to say. Janus’ face sets into an impassive wall, and he looks away, refusing to make eye contact. Thomas can’t tell what he’s feeling, whether it’s anger or embarrassment or frustration or some stubborn combination of the three. But he settles himself against the headboard without further argument, seemingly determined not to carry on any further conversation, so Thomas resigns himself to the silent treatment and sets up with his laptop on the other side of the bed, several inches placed between them.

The atmosphere is awkward, heavy. They both know that Thomas wants to talk, and they both know that Janus will not reply, or if he does, it will be with sharp sarcasm or otherwise cutting words, an answer that will not answer anything at all. So Thomas doesn’t say anything, merely glances over every now and again to be sure that Janus is still there, is still fine, is still breathing. Every time, he is greeted with the same sight: Janus staring off into the empty space in front of him, face blank, a faint tightness around his eyes the only indication that he is still in pain. There is a wall between them, invisible yet insurmountable, and Thomas has no idea how to breach it.

Why does their relationship feel so off-kilter now? Why are things so natural between them when Janus is a snake, small and speechless and cuddly, and not when he is a human?

“I don’t mean to force you to stay,” he murmurs. “If you’re really that uncomfortable, it’s alright if you leave.”

He’s watching him out of the corner of his eye, and as such, he sees the wince, slight though it may be.

“It’s… not that,” Janus admits. “I am grateful for your concern, truly. I just… so love being in unfamiliar territory.” His voice is a quiet drawl, but laced with exhaustion, his words just shy of slurred together.

He takes a second to parse through the words, and then smiles. “Well, that makes two of us,” he says. “I’d be alright with muddling through together. And look, I know that most of the time, when we hang out, you’re a snake. And that’s fine! One hundred percent fine, if that’s what you’re most comfortable with! But uh, I really wouldn’t mind spending more time with you as, like, a person, too, if that makes sense. Not that you’re not a person when you’re a snake! Wait—” He furrows his brow, trying to untangle his words, and looks over, certain that Janus will at least be amused by his rambling.

He’s not. Because Janus is asleep, his chin resting against his chest and his hat about to fall into his lap. Thomas feels an inexorable sense of fondness sweep over him, and with a gentle movement, he reaches over to pluck the hat from Janus’ head, revealing brown hair that falls in springy waves. He places the hat on the nightstand, casting one last look at Janus before returning his attention to his laptop.

There is plenty of work to do, and he is content to do it here, sitting in bed with Janus napping by his side. So he does, his fingers clacking against the keys long into the night, and Janus sleeps on.

-----------

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. But he must, because he wakes, and slowly processes the fact that all is not as he left it. For one, the light is off, the room dark, and his laptop is resting on the nightstand, next to the shadow of Janus’ hat. For another, there is a heavy weight on top of his chest, pinning one of his arms against his side, and in the seconds before his eyes adjust sufficiently to the darkness, he fears the worst, fears that someone has broken into his apartment and… crawled into bed with him, and the irrationality of that idea is enough to dampen his panic. He squints, trying to will his vision into focus, and begins to make out what features he can see of the face pressed against his chest, features that very closely resemble his own, and that is when he remembers: Janus on his arm, Janus injured and bleeding, Janus on his bed, Janus asleep. Janus… still here.

Janus, snuggled up against him, his head resting on his chest, his body curled into his side, latched onto him with both… no, there’s more than two arms. At least four, maybe more; it’s difficult to determine without the light on, because all that Thomas can tell is that he is being very thoroughly hugged, and that it feels very nice.

This fact is distracting enough that it’s a full three minutes or so before he realizes that there is another figure perched on the edge of his bed. Panic roars up in him once again, his heart pounding and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, but then he notices the details, notices the poof of the figure’s sleeves, the wildness of their hair silhouetted against the light that creeps around the edges of the doorframe, the unholy red gleam of their eyes. And he… well, he doesn’t relax, not exactly. But most of his fear sidesteps directly into annoyance.

“Remus,” he hisses, as quietly as he can manage. “What are you doing?”

Remus cocks his head, his eyes shining brighter. He’s crouched almost like a grotesque parody of a cat, ready to pounce. But the Duke himself is still and silent, and it’s very odd. Almost worrying. And when he finally speaks, it’s not at all what Thomas was expecting.

“DeeDee got hurt,” he says, voice a subdued whisper, and Thomas is taken aback, both by the seriousness of his tone and the evident consideration toward not waking Janus up.

“I— yeah,” Thomas replies, uncertain as to where this is going. “I, uh, patched him up as best I could. He said he’d heal soon.” A thought occurs to him, and if Janus weren’t keeping him flat on his back, he’d be sitting bolt upright, finger pointed in accusation. “Wait, he said he was hurt in the Imagination. Did you have something to do with that?”

“I can’t keep an eye on every part of La La Land at once, Thomas.” He shrugs. “It’s not my fault if Snake from Snake Farm wandered into something he shouldn’t have.” He giggles, high-pitched and a little manic, but Thomas wonders at his tone of voice. It’s as irreverent as always, but underneath that— can it be concern? He really didn’t think Remus did concern. “Snakes should know better than to let their guard down. Your mind is dark and full of terrors.” He smiles, several rows of pointed white teeth gleaming an unnatural white in the shadows.

“I don’t even watch—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head, and then freezes as Janus makes a small sound. Seconds pass, and he waits with bated breath, but Janus doesn’t seem to wake. “Okay, then,” he continues, more quietly. “Is there a reason why you’re here?”

Remus blinks, and once again, Thomas is reminded of a cat. A terrible, eldritch horror of a cat, but a cat nonetheless. “DeeDee doesn’t like to be around people when he’s hurt,” he says, rocking back and forth in place. “He doesn’t like people knowing when he’s weak.” He sighs through his nose, his breath whistling more than is natural. “He holes up in his room and doesn’t come out for anything, usually. Not even when I bang on the door and put rats in his air vents.”

Thomas stares, trying to process that. “But he’s here with me,” he says dumbly. “He decided to stay here. He’s…” He trails off. He doesn’t need to describe what Janus is doing; surely, Remus can see it for himself, can see them engaging in what can only be labeled as cuddling. And it’s not as if this is the first time; it’s just the first time Janus has been human-shaped.

“Yes, he is,” Remus agrees, voice sharp, and he is definitely trying to convey something here, something that Thomas is missing. “Tommy-boy, Tommy-boy, Tommy-boy, you’re just not getting it, are you? Well, that’s fine. Just remember that the snakes on the plane die too, if the plane crashes.”

“Is the plane crashing?” Thomas asks, voice hoarse, hesitant, and once again, Remus smiles, wide and dangerous.

“Not now, maybe,” he says. “But it still could. It always can. That’s the fun thing about airplanes. I could help with that, if you wanted.”

“No thanks,” Thomas is quick to reply.

Remus shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says, and then pauses. “Janus doesn’t let just anyone this close, you know. So don’t fuck it up.”

It’s such an uncharacteristic statement that by the time Thomas has recovered enough to reply, Remus is gone, melting into the bedsheets in a grotesque puddle of goo, and then, even that disappears. Thomas is left in a dark, quiet room, and he has never felt more awake.

But Janus is still here, still asleep, is holding onto him for dear life and hiding his face against his chest. And it’s something precious, something intimate, something that Thomas feels privileged to see at all, and Remus’ voice rings loud in his head: Janus doesn’t let just anyone this close. Why, then, has he allowed him this? Why has he let Thomas see him at his most vulnerable, no matter how reluctant he was at the start? Why did he choose to stay, rather than leaving once Thomas nodded off?

Each question only leads to more questions, and it’s clear that he won’t receive any answers tonight. So he settles back in as best he can, though it is a long time before he manages to fall asleep again.

In the morning, Janus is gone. He wishes he could be more surprised.

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years ago

Text

I love you (not) - Chapter 3

@marichatmay's prompt for today was "dirt", which legally requires Chat to eat dirt, right? Anyway, that happens. His brain is a little distracted, you see. Hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 3: In which the universe might not be working against Chat breaking up with Marinette, but the author sure is

This has gone too far , Chat thought as he marched determinedly towards Marinette’s skylight. However fun lunch at her parents, and then their little movie hangout had been, he couldn’t let this… “relationship” go any further. His speech had been stalled enough, by a whole week and a half, and not entirely because of him; sure, he’d procrastinated it a little, but Nathalie and her zeal for filling his schedule were the main culprits, as well as a couple of ill-timed Akumas and last-minute Kitty section band practises. It was like the universe didn’t want their budding romance to end.

He pushed the thought aside. There was no romance between him and Marinette, or at least, not on his side. Which is why he needed to talk to her: he needed to prevent her from getting too invested in their relationship. She’d only end up getting hurt, and he would never forgive himself for it.

But what if she gets upset now ? A little voice piped up in his head. He came to a halt, and traced back his steps. Then you’ll be there to protect her from the butterflies , the reasonable part of his brain chimed in . He turned around and started walking again.

But what if that doesn’t work? Will you be able to fight with the knowledge that it was all your fault? The first voice nagged again. Yes, since I’ll be able to fix it. Ladybug and I will do what we usually do and save her.

He paced the balcony as the figurative angel and demon bickered on his shoulder, both making fairly good points as to why he should or should not break up with her.

It’s not a real relationship, just ghost her, she knows you have other stuff to do.

That wouldn’t be right and you know it.

What if this is a bad time, though?

But what if this is a good time?

His dilemma was so loud that he didn’t think about what it might have sounded like for Marinette, if she was in her room. His indecision was getting so infuriating that he stopped looking where he walked. Why was this so difficult?

What if you stopped being stupid and realised that you actually like her? The thought blindsided him, and not just because he could have sworn that it had been formulated in Plagg's voice. It caused him to miscalculate his next step, and before he knew it he was tripping on a potted plant.

Both him and it came crashing down with a loud thunk and a yelp, and he realised with horror, as he scrambled to his feet, that the plant it had contained not only had its roots out, but that it had landed right under him, and didn’t look too healthy.

“Crap…” He shot up and tried to repair his mistake, but soon realised the pot had broken in its fall.

He looked around him to see if there was a spare pot lying around, but failing to spot one, changed his strategy. He started pushing the earth into a neat pile to cover the roots and also to make sure the balcony didn’t look too messy. He wondered if there was a flower shop, or any shop where he could buy a replacement container nearby, and if maybe he could just pop out before anybody noticed, what on earth could he even do with all this-

“Chat Noir? What are you doing here?” Marinette had cautiously peeked out of her skylight when she’d heard the commotion, anticipating an Akuma and trying to figure out what to do if there was indeed one, and had pushed it all the way open when she’d realised who it was who’d been lurking on her roof.

Chat Noir panicked as he heard her voice, and did the only logical thing that came to his mind to get rid of the mess: he took the handful of earth he was holding, and shoved it in his mouth.

“No, Chat!!” Marinette voiced the thought that his brain deigned to formulate just as he tasted the dirt. His eyes widened and he spat it out, barely registering Marinette hopping out of her room and coming to pat him on the back to help him. “What on Earth were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” he wheezed.

“Hang on, I’ll get you some water.” She disappeared through the trapdoor and was back before he could put his escape plan to action. It was just too embarrassing to stay.

He gargled the contents of the glass and spat it out, wincing at the... green taste that remained. There was no better adjective for it. He supposed it was well deserved.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking at his feet sheepishly.

“For what?” Marinette asked, before her eyes landed on the plant. The lack of pot and her frantic attempts to help him had destabilised it, and it lied horizontally again. The colour drained from her cheeks. “Oh. Uncle Wang’s Magnolia.”

Chat winced at her worried expression. “Can I do anything to help?”

“I think I might have a pot downstairs that I can replace it with. I just need to be discreet, if Maman finds out that it survived its journey from Shanghai, but that it couldn’t survive a day on my balcony…” Marinette nervously chewed on her bottom lip.

“She’d be rightfully annoyed.” Chat nodded. He felt his guilt pink his cheeks.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…”

Chat Noir wasn’t sure involving him in a plan was a great idea after the mess he’d made, but he followed Marinette’s instructions nonetheless, anxious to repair his mistake.

“There.” Marinette rubbed the dirt off of her hands when they were done with a satisfied smile. There was still tension in her shoulders, though. “I think I might have to hide it a little for the next week or so, just so she doesn’t notice the wilted leaves, but it should be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” She relaxed a little as she saw his pleading eyes. “Anyway, you literally preferred to eat dirt rather than answer my questions, what brings you here?”

“Oh, erm, I needed to talk to you about, well, erm… us.” Chat twiddled his thumbs awkwardly.

Marinette froze. She’d looked out for Chat Noir during the days after their “date”, and had been relieved not to see him around. She’d prodded the topic slightly as Ladybug, and given his lack of response, she’d concluded that Chat had given up on their relationship, and had filed the whole ordeal in a “we’ll laugh about it someday” part of her brain. She’d thought that the next time she’d see him as a civilian, they’d be back to normal. She realised that she might have been a little too prompt in moving on.

Chat noticed his friend tense up again, and decided he couldn’t go through with his plan. Hey, I came to tell you that I don’t love you and that I’m breaking up with you - and by the way, I almost killed a plant that came from half a world away. Bye! Really didn’t sound so great.

“Us?” Marinette prompted.

“Yeah, us.” Chat shook away his thoughts. “I, er… Realised that I haven’t been in touch much recently, and I wanted to apologise.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been really busy too, so, I understand.” Marinette smiled sweetly. It did sound like her kitty to not ghost a girl, and maybe this was the moment he would give her a little speech about how packed his superhero life was, and that he preferred not to keep her waiting and-

“Maybe we could get coffee sometime soon?” Chat blurted.

“Coffee?” She tilted her head, her smile tensing a little. What are you up to? The exit was right there!

“If you like coffee? Tea’s perfectly fine, too, or hot chocolate. Or a coke, or anything. My treat.” He patted her shoulder. Why do I sound so awkward? he cringed inside.

“I guess that would be nice.” Marinette blinked a couple of times. “Shall we set a date now, or…”

“Yes! A date! That’s it! The day after tomorrow? 5pm?” I need to calm down, Chat smiled tightly.

“That works for me.” Marinette eyed her partner cautiously. He seemed overly excited. Had there been something in the earth? Should she call some kind of medical service? “Did you have a place in mind?...”

Chat Noir paused. He didn’t go out enough to be able to recommend a café off the top of his head.

Marinette saw his hesitation, decided he was probably more flustered than poisoned, and decided she should probably help him out with his invitation. “I heard le café des chats was quite cute, it’s not too far away… If you’re not allergic to cats.” She added with a twinkle in her eye.

“That sounds purr-fect!” Chat grinned. “Right, so now that we’ve got that settled, I guess I should go.”

“I guess so.” Marinette smiled. “See you soon, then?”

“Yep, later, Princess! And sorry again about the Magnolia.”

She waved his concern away and then leaned on her balcony railing to watch him vault away. Her smile fell when he’d disappeared from her sight, and she realised what she’d just agreed to.

A real date. In a café. With Chat Noir.

This is going too far, she thought as she hid her face in her hands.

#how embarrassing it appears i've written the title wrong on these posts #marichat may 2021 #marichat may #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #marichat #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #day 3: dirt #elle writes #love you (not)

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incorrectsmashbrosquotes · 4 years ago

Text

Byleth teaches the Smash Kids

*Female Byleth walks into a classroom where all the Smash Bros kids are causing a ruckus*

Byleth: Everyone, settle down! It’s time for class! Now children, find your seats!

Joker, pointing to his butt: Got my seat.

Pit, pointing to his butt: Got mine.

Leaf, pointing to hers: Here’s mine.

Dark Pit: Bet you don’t have trouble finding yours.

Byleth: Go to your desks!

*All the kids sit down at a desk*

Byleth: Now children, this is a serious class, and I expect you all to follow the rules at all times. Let me also warn you that I will tolerate no foolishness. Are we clear?

Ness: No, we’re opaque.

*Ness snaps his fingers, and suddenly all the kids are see-through*

Ness: Now we’re clear.

Byleth: Ugh! Let us begin.

Lucas: Wait! Don’t you want to see our homework first?

Byleth: How can you have homework? This is the first day of school.

Meggy: Extra credit.

*An angelic halo magically appears over all the kid’s heads*

Byleth: Let me see it.

Red: You can’t. Our dog ate it.

Byleth: Don’t lie!

Pit: We’re not lying. See?

*Bowser Jr. is in the corner, on all fours, chewing on several pieces of paper. Byleth then begins playing tug-of-war with Bowser Jr. over the papers*

Byleth: Bad dog! Give me that! Give! Give it now!

*Bowser Jr. then releases the papers, causing Byleth to trip and land on her rear end. Bowser Jr. then returns to his desk*

Byleth: I’m warning you! Don’t make me use corporal punishment!

Joker: You mean him?

*Joker gestures to Captain Falcon, who is wearing a U.S Army Corporal’s uniform with a nametag reading ‘Punishment’. Byleth laughs nervously before regaining her composure*

Byleth: Let us begin with our lessons. We’ll start with math. Ness, can you count to one hundred?

Ness: One, two, skip a few, ninety nine, one hundred!

Byleth: No. Give me all the numbers.

Ness: Hey, there’s only so much room on each of these Tumblr posts.

Byleth: Let’s move on. Young Link, can you multiply?

*Young Link suddenly summons all the various Links from across the Zeldaverse*

All the Links: How’s this?

Byleth: Not that sort of multi-! Let’s leave math, shall we? We’ll move on to science. Nana, what can you tell me about the great scientists of the 18th century?

Nana: They’re all dead.

Byleth: No, no, no!

Nana: Alright, they’re all living.

Byleth: NO, NO, NO!

Mega Man: Well, now we’re getting into philosophy.

Byleth: We’re not getting into…! We’ll move on to grammar. Dark Pit, what is the meaning of the word 'procrastination’?

Dark Pit, leaning back into his chair with his feet on his desk: I’ll tell you tomorrow.

Byleth: You children are making this very difficult!

Lucas: Well, learning isn’t easy.

Byleth: We’ll move on to sentence structure. First: verbs. Joker, can you conjugate?

Joker: Well, yes, but I already have a girlfriend.

Byleth: No, no, no! It’s easy. I’ll conjugate with you.

Joker: Goodnight, everybody!

Byleth: You don’t understand. let me go to the board and show you.

Joker, turning to the other kids: Don’t look.

*Byleth goes to the chalkboard to explain conjugation to the class. Each time she has her back turned, the kids mess around with each other. Only when Byleth looks directly at her class are they seated and paying attention. Eventually, she gets fed up with this*

Byleth: I know what you’re doing. I have eyes in the back of my head.

Popo: Really? So do we.

*All the kids turn around revealing that they, quite literally, have a pair of eyes in the back of their heads. All except Ness, who has twenty eyes in the back of his head. Byleth looks confused for a moment before addressing the class again*

Byleth: It’s time for a pop quiz.

*Leaf places a blindfold around Red’s eyes. She then places two different cans of sodapop on Red’s desk*

Byleth: What are you doing?!

Leaf: Pop quiz.

*Red quickly gulps down the two cans of soda*

Red: I like the first one better.

*Red then lets out a massive belch, making all the kids break out in laughter. Byleth has finally lost her temper*

Byleth: STOP THAT! STOP THAT!! Sit at your desks this instant!

*As all the kids sit down, Byleth pulls a marker out of the front of her shirt*

Joker: Ooh, what else you got in there?

Byleth: WHY YOU LITTLE..!!!

*Byleth uses the marker to write a big fat ’F’ on Joker’s forehead*

Byleth: YOU GET AN ’F’!

Meggy: Hey! You can’t do that to him!

*Byleth goes up to Meggy and writes an ’F’ on her forehead*

Byleth: 'F’!

*Meggy starts to cry at her failing grade while the other students laugh at her misfortune. Their laughter doesn’t last long, though, as Byleth writes an ’F’ on each of their foreheads, one by one, until there is only one left: Kirby*

Byleth: 'F’!

*After being given the same failing grade as all his peers, and well as the forehead mark to go with it, Kirby’s face grows incredibly angry*

Pit: Oh, now you’ve gone and hurt his feelings.

Mega Man: I’d apologize if I were you.

Byleth: I will not! You’re all horrid, naughty children!

*Kirby’s temper tantrum grows worse and worse as he approaches Byleth with a look of utter fury. Byleth actually looks afraid as Kirby finally stands in front of her*

SpongeBob narrorator: One dissolve cut later.

*Robin enters Byleth’s classroom, finding it empty*

Robin: Hey Byleth. How was your first day teaching at Smash?

Kirby, using his copy ability to mimic Byleth’s hair: Poyo!

Robin: Well, that’s good. Hope the kids didn’t give you too much trouble. See you tomorrow.

*As soon as Robin leaves, Kirby discards his copy ability as all the kids jump out of convenient hiding places*

Joker: Alright, everyone! Time for recess!

*All the kids yell and cheer in excitement while running outside to play*

*Meanwhile, inside Kirby’s endless void of a stomach*

Byleth: I hate teaching.

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lovingmyselfcore · 4 years ago

Text

Skate Into My Heart

Chapter Three; Uh oh

BESTIES

I'M ALIVE AND I DID THE WRITING THING

@ciaraloves (or @perseusjackson-jasongrace ig) LOOK AT ME DOING THE THING

As soon as Nico left the locker room, Piper pounced on him. Literally.

He was forced to take a step back and caught her by the shoulders, “What’s up?”

She was practically vibrating with excitement, “Annabeth’s back!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Come on!” She grabbed his hand and yanked him through the hallways and into the main rink where a crowd of people had formed next to the bleachers.

It was the rest of the team and in the center was Annabeth, a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, looking exhausted as all hell but she was grinning as the team peppered her with questions and play-by-plays of the practices she’d missed.

Piper shouldered them into the center so Nico was directly in front of Annabeth, Piper on one side and Calypso on the other.

“Hey, Nico,” Annabeth said, still grinning. She stepped forward for a hug and he let her, burying his face into her neck and breathing, already feeling the responsibility leaking from his tight shoulders. Annabeth was like a big sister to him, not that he’d ever admit that, but still.

“You want to get out?” Nico whispered into her neck.

“Yes,” She whispered back emphatically. Nico could barely stop himself from laughing but as they pulled apart he saw the genuine relief in her eyes and felt himself worrying. He needed to talk to her, about the team and skating, about Will and of course, if she needed to talk about why she’d been gone for so long, he’d do that too.

Apparently, Calypso recognized that too and, bless her heart, muttered something to Leo, and together they captured the team’s attention, allowing Nico to tug Annabeth away from the crowd and out of the rink. She sighed as soon as they were ejected onto the city streets. Nico stuck an arm out and she smiled and linked their arms.

“Where are you headed?” Nico asked as they walked the short distance to the car garage.

“Oh, probably just my apartment.”

Nico nodded, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be staying with your dad or not.”

She shook her head, “He doesn’t even know I landed yet. I’ll head over in the morning.”

Her voice was stiff and Nico took that as his cue to change the subject. “So I have something to confide in you.”

She perked up almost immediately and he swallowed hard. But she just looked at him with those gray eyes and he reminded himself that this was Annabeth. That she wasn’t going to get angry with him.

At least, he hoped not.

“I’m talking to one of the hockey players,” He said casually.

Her grip on his arm stiffened and he braced himself but she was still just looking at him.

Finally, she grinned, “So when you say ‘talking to’...”

He groaned and felt himself flush, “Oh, shut up! Just friends.”

She hummed and released his arm to dig for her keys in her jacket pocket. “Is he nice?”

“No, he’s a dick,” Nico said sarcastically.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

“He’s blonde,” Nico offered.

“Oooh,” Annabeth drawled.

He rolled his eyes and she burst out laughing, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the parking garage.

“Is he gay?” Annabeth asked.

Nico nearly flinched and passed it off with another eye roll, “I don’t know, Annie, that’s not something that’s come up in casual conversation.”

She glared at him and Nico, being the mature adult he is, stuck his tongue out at her. She did it back then shook her head. “Too much time with Percy,” She muttered and Nico snorted. She grinned at him.

“So he’s okay?”

That sobered her immediately. “Yeah. Well, as okay as he can be. I’m only here for like two weeks because he insisted I come back, but I’m leaving as soon as possible,” She glanced sideways at him, “Not to leave you alone again, though.”

He shrugged off the flash of selfish hurt he’d felt, “I’m good, Beth.” But he wasn’t good. He’d just told her about Will, and not even the start of the way his stomach would twist when he saw a new text from the hockey player and not the same twist when he panicked. And that also meant his chances of performing solo again were climbing. He didn’t know how to feel about that part.

“Stop that!” She exclaimed, halting once they’d reached her car.

“Get some sleep, Annabeth,” He said genuinely then smirked a little, “It looks like you need it.”

She threw a balled-up receipt she’d found in her bag at him, “Dick!”

~~~~

“Hey, Nico.”

Nico nearly leaped out of his skin, spinning to see Persephone in the living room.

She snorted, “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. Did practice go well?”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, “Yeah. Annabeth’s back.”

Persephone hummed, reaching up to untwist her hair, sending it cascading down her shoulders, “That’s good. I know you’ve missed her,” She said with a knowing look in her eyes that made him shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah, definitely, um, I’m tired we learned some new moves for Regionals today, so,”

“Yeah of course.” She was still smiling.

“‘Night Persephone,”

~~~

Nico flopped face-down onto his bed with a groan. He knew Persephone though he had a crush on Annabeth; he didn’t blame her, he’d never really made it a point that he didn’t. He wished he could come out to her and his dad, he didn’t really have a reason why he hadn’t besides the weight of anxiety on his lungs.

His phone buzzed again, and he wriggled upright to yank it out of his pocket.

Will: Distract me

Will: My mom is driving me insane

Nico grinned to himself, both of them were dealing with mommy issues at the moment.

Nico: idk how you expect me to distract you

Will: Just tell me about snakes or smth

Nico: you think i just have fun facts about snakes on hand?

Will: Yeah?

Nico: good

Nico: cause i do

Will: :)

Nico: snakes can slither 12.5 mph

Will: Good lord

Nico: snakes have internal ears but not external ones

Will: ??

Nico: they can’t create their own body heat which is why theyre in the sun all the time

Will: Hmmmm

Nico: they smell w/their tongues

Will: I thought they had nostrils??

Nico: they do

Will: what

Nico: it’s their Jacobson’s organ my dude it works in mysterious ways

Nico: not really but yk

Nico: sCieNcE

Will: ok….

Nico: if you get bored of snakes i’ve also got a bunch of random cheetah facts

Nico: i love cheetahs

Nico: very cool

Nico: fast cats

Will: Lmao go ahead

Nico: but first

Nico: why’s your mom driving you insane

Nico: if you want to tell me ofc

Nico: not trying to be weird

Will: Nah you’re fine

Will: She wants me to focus entirely on med school and not hockey

Will: She’s trying to get me out of it, actually

Will: Do something ‘respectable’

Will: Not turn out like my dad

Will: Even though dad has literally NOTHING to do with hockey

Will: And in my opinion he’s not bad. Not great. Not awful yk

Will: But hockey’s what’s putting me through med school so

Will: Gods, I really just burdened you with that I’m so sorry

Nico: med school huh

Nico: now i can say i know a doctor

Will: In training

Nico: close enough

Nico: you’re a great hockey player and you're going to be a great doctor

Nico: and you can always talk to me, will

Nico: you’re not burdening me with shit

Will: thanks <3

Nico didn’t understand why he blushed. It was a goddamn emoji. Calm down, Di Angelo.

Will: So we’ve been talking for a few weeks now. Can I call you my friend yet?

Nico snorted, feeling like he was fifteen again, sprawled on his bed, in the dark (because for some reason he didn’t turn his lights on) late at night, texting his- well, anyway.

Nico: yea dumbass

Nico: we’re friends

Will: Nice

Will: Now give me cheetah facts you adorable nerd

~~~

WILL

“Will? You good?”

Will blinked, Jason coming in to focus in front of him. “Uh, yeah.”

“That was believable,” Clarisse said sarcastically from behind Jason.

Will attempted to shake the fog from his head, “Yes,” He repeated.

Jason just blinked at him and Will was formulating an excuse for why he was so tired besides the fact that he’d spent all night talking to a cute figure skater with a ridiculous amount of animal facts stored in his small body when Coach Hedge’s voice boomed from his seat on the bleachers, “Solace! You alive?”

“Yes, coach!” Will shot back.

“Then why are you just standing there? Get back to the game! You too, La Rue and Grace!”

“Yes, sir!” They all barked back.

Clarisse gave him a once over before skating back to her goal and Jason went over to Will’s spot with him, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

Jason opened his mouth, probably to question why the mom friend of their group was tired enough he nearly tripped over his stick but Will just said, “It’s fine, Jase. It’s not a big deal.”

“Grace!” Coach Hedge screeched.

Jason gave up on trying to interrogate Will and skated back over to his spot.

~~~~

“Mama, please,” Will tried, but his mother cut him off.

“Willaim. Hush. How’s that girl you said you were dating?”

What?

He was silent for a beat too long.

“Oh, baby,” His mother’s thick southern accent drenched her words. “You broke up? I’m so sorry.”

Oh gods, Lou Ellen Blackstone.

Will and Lou Ellen had dated for two months a long time ago, and when they were still dating he’d told his mother about her to get her to back off of his personal life a little. Their break up hadn’t had a huge fallout, Lou Ellen had told him through tears in his living room that she was aromantic. They were still friends, had been even before they dated, actually, and talked to each other pretty regularly.

But the problem was, that had been three months ago, and he hadn’t told his mother about their breakup. He knew she’d ask why, and he didn’t want to out Lou Ellen or make her a devil in his mother’s eyes. So he’d procrastinated coming up with a reason until he’d forgotten about it entirely.

And now it had come back to bite him in the ass.

“Yeah we broke up a little while ago,” He forced himself to sound choked up, which wasn’t hard, giving the way his panicked brain was now sprinting in circles on his lungs. “I just didn’t disappoint you.” Probably the most honest thing he’d said in weeks, but that’ll be unpacked later.

“Honey,” She sighed sadly and Will didn’t know whether or not that was on his behalf or hers.

“Well, it’s okay, because I’m dating someone new.”

“Oh?” He could hear her spine straighten. “Is it someone I know?”

No, mom, it’s not one of the country girls I grew up with.

“No,” He winced at how southern he sounded. He’d been talking to his mother for five minutes. “You don’t know him.”

HIM. Good Gods, Will. Yeah, you came out as bi to your mom, but still, you haven’t actually mentioned a guy to her yet.

She was silent for so long his heart joined his brain in the track meet happening on top of his lungs. “What’s his name?”

He was so she’d spoken that he blurted, “Nico.”

What. The. Fuck. Willaim.

Apparently, his heart had won that damn track race.

“Well, what I was leading up to before you told me about what happened,”

Will hummed non-committally, trying not to sound like he was taking relieved breaths as she spoke.

“The family’s come for a reunion and you should bring that boy!” Will choked on his spit.

“Mom, I don’t know about-”

“No, William. There isn’t a set date yet so we can work around your schedule,” Fuck. “I insist, Will. I need to meet this boy you clearly like very much, even though all you’ve said is his name, a mother knows.”

Umm, what.

“Sure,” Will said, sounding a little strangled. “But we have a game this weekend.”

“Alright, William.” She sounded the way she always did when he brought up hockey. “But as I said, we can work around your schedule and his. Talk to him about it, and let me know.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Will repeated. “I’ll do that.”

She hung up and he was left staring at the wilting daisies at his kitchen table.

What had he just done?

#skate into my heart au #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #nico x will #jason grace #annabeth chase #percy jackson #pjo fic #hoo fic #au #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #solangelo fic #will and nico

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bloodfromthethorn · 3 years ago

Text

Friendly Fire

Mac tries very hard not to make mistakes, because whenever he does, people always, always get hurt. An army days fic.

Part thirteen of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3.

Despite what a lot of people seemed to believe, Mac did make mistakes. It didn’t happen all that often because he was viscerally aware that a lot of what he did was dangerous to more than just himself and that meant that you goddamn checked your working, but he wasn’t infallible. When he’d been younger, those mistakes had usually been small things, like falling out of a tree because he’d misjudged the distance between two branches or not picking up on his father’s mood quickly enough to avoid a lecture, but there had been some big blowouts too. The football field was probably the crowning example, but it wasn’t the only one.

Then he’d joined the army and been sent into the desert and suddenly the idea of making a mistake went from ‘possibly dangerous’ to ‘will almost certainly cost lives’. It was around that time that he started triple checking his working, just to be sure.

Which made it all the more horrifying when he did finally screw something up badly enough to get someone hurt. And, just in case that wasn’t punishment enough for his own stupidity and hubris, of course that someone would be Jack. Of fucking course.

He dug through the rubble like a man possessed, tearing open a gouge on his hand as he did so but not faltering for even a single second.

“Jack!” He didn’t dare raise his voice too high just in case any hostiles had survived the blast, but he needed his Overwatch to answer him. Since the wall had come down, he hadn’t heard a peep. “C’mon Dalton, you’re not going out like this. You do not get to die on me.”

He scrabbled for a moment against a chunk of sundried stone just a little too heavy for him to comfortably shift, then was rewarded with the smallest sliver of desert camo. More carefully, he tossed aside some of the smaller bricks, uncovering a gloved hand to go along with the arm he’d first seen. From there it was the matter of moments to clear the rest of Jack’s body, quietly thankful with each new revelation that at the very least he was still in one piece. Bruised and bloody, but whole.

And still not waking up. Maybe Mac wasn’t so relieved after all.

“Jack? Dalton? Can you hear me?” He felt for a pulse, gusting out a pained sigh when he finally found it – a little too fast for his liking, but strong all the same. “Thank god,” he breathed quietly.

There was blood around Jack’s eye from a gash on his forehead, with more dripping from a split lip, but otherwise he looked remarkably alright. No doubt his combat gear and dust coated skin was hiding a multitude of bruises and possible broken bones, but at the very least he wasn’t in danger of bleeding out. Or- well. A thought suddenly occurred to Mac and he spent the next ten seconds wrestling with Jack’s vest to get at his stomach to search for any signs of severe internal bleeding, not relaxing until his search turned up nothing more than unbroken skin.

“Okay,” he said more to himself than his unconscious partner. “We’ve got to get out of here. Stayed too long as it is.”

A glance around didn’t turn up anything he could conveniently use as a litter. He was thoroughly unwilling to leave Jack’s side while he was so defenceless, particularly when hostiles might be closing in, so that meant they were doing this the hard way. He started by untangling Jack’s rifle and making sure the safety was on before setting it carefully on the ground beside him; Jack would be giving him hell for messing with it, but if that was an argument he wanted to have then he was just damn well going to have to wake up and have it, wasn’t he?

Next came the man himself. Even though Mac was technically classified as a non-combatant, he’d still had to go through Basic with all the other recruits, so he’d done plenty of fireman’s lifts before. None of them had really prepared him for the added weight of responsibility he felt as soon as Jack was on his shoulders. He’d always considered their partnership to be two-way: Jack protected Mac and Mac protected Jack right back. It had never really felt this literal before though. Normally his protection came in the form of defusing a bomb before it went off, not bearing the man’s limp weight as they moved through hostile territory when at any minute a bullet could come their way.

But now wasn’t the time to be frozen by indecision and fear. Certainly not when he had to contend with the not inconsiderable weight of Jack and his gear, and then had to juggle his rifle in his free hand. Now was the time for action.

Without stopping to overthink it, he hitched Jack up a little higher and took off in the direction of their Humvee.

No doubt he made a hell of a scene pulling into camp and skidding the vehicle to a stop beside the medical tent, but by that point he was far too wound up to care. Jack hadn’t so much as stirred once, and while his breathing and heart rate were holding steady, Mac could feel his skin crawling with the awful sense that maybe something was critically wrong after all.

As soon as the Humvee came to a stop, he was on his feet and shouting, summoning the random assortment of medical staff who happened to be both in earshot and available. On the other side of the ‘road’, a handful of signalmen poked their heads out of the communications tent to see what was going on. Mac barely spared them a glance – all he cared about was getting Jack inside and to help as quickly as humanly possible and then finding somewhere quiet so he could have a breakdown in peace.

To that end, he hauled Jack back up onto his shoulders and met the medical staff halfway, breathlessly explaining what had happened. A gurney was unceremoniously shoved in front of him and he carefully tipped his charge down onto it. The second Jack was down, the staff were pulling him away, whisking him off for an examination inside. He took half a step to follow, but was immediately blocked by one of the nurses.

“Sir, are you injured?”

Mac barely spared the Private a glance, trying to push past but getting stopped by a firm hand on his chest. “No, I’m fine, but he’s my Overwatch, I have to-”

“Specialist,” the nurse said sharply, moving with him to keep him from getting past. “Your partner is getting the best care he can. If you’re not injured, you’ll need to report in. Only medical staff and patients are allowed past this point.”

A prickle-hot wave of frustration raced through Mac at being denied access to his partner, but it was almost immediately chased away by a wash of cold when he properly registered what the man had said. ‘You’ll need to report in.’ Of course that’s what he needed to do – standard protocol and all that. Theoretically he was already in violation of his orders by not having turned on his heel the instant Jack was in the hands of the medical staff, although he was pretty sure he could be forgiven in this particular instance.

But even then, he needed to report in. He had to walk up to his commanding officer and explain that because of his own stupidity and carelessness, he might just have gotten his own partner killed. Jack wasn’t well liked by the Brass, exactly, but he was certainly well respected and now Mac had to walk up to the Major and explain just how badly he’d fucked up. And then, assuming that didn’t get him transferred or demoted or fucking arrested, he was going to have to walk into the barracks filled with Jack’s friends and hope that none of them decided revenge was a dish best served hot. The Brass might not like Jack too well, but the men sure did.

Well, at least he had one thing going for him: since they were in the FOB and not the main operating base, he wouldn’t have to report directly to the Colonel. Small mercies.

“Specialist?” The nurse was saying, apparently alarmed by his sudden freeze. “Are you injured?”

“N-No,” he managed when he finally managed to find his voice again. The nurse didn’t look convinced, so he repeated himself more firmly. “No, I’m fine. You’re right, I need to report. Just- Look after him, okay?”

The nurse’s severity and concern fell away under a blanket of reassurance, his expression turning soft. “We will, don’t you worry. I’ll make sure someone lets you know when he gets moved to the ward, okay? You’ll be able to visit him then.”

Barely clinging to the present moment, all Mac could do was nod. The nurse gave him an appraising look, but whatever it was that Mac was projecting apparently passed muster because he nodded sharply and backed off, giving him one last glance before ducking into the tent and disappearing. For a long moment, Mac just stared at the spot where he’d been in the hopes that if he waited long enough, his brain might kick into gear before he had to face the Major.

Of course, it didn’t happen.

In a daze, he backed up from the entrance to the medical tent, glancing about in sudden self-awareness but finding himself mostly alone. The few people he could see appeared to be going about their days as normal, not paying him the slightest bit of attention.

Right. Things to do. No matter what had just happened, he was still on duty. He had work to be doing.

With a firm mental shake, he forced himself to climb back into the Humvee and drive it over to the much more suitable parking lot. He procrastinated for a few minutes then, sorting out his and Jack’s stuff and making sure the equipment he’d collected earlier that morning was still secure. It already felt like a thousand years ago. That done, he checked the vehicle in with the mechanics and headed to the command tent to face his fate.

Mac had never had much cause to interact with Major Torres beyond receiving the occasional direct mission brief or having to give an in-person report when a mission went sideways. Both cases usually ended up being pretty stressful affairs, either because there was a lot on the line or because Mac had to own up to some hare-brained scheme that would probably have gotten him court marshalled twenty times over if his skillset hadn’t been in such high demand. The result was that almost all of Mac’s recollections of the Major were coloured in shades of concern and unhappiness, despite the man himself having never done anything particularly bad to Mac himself. On the contrary, the man had been ridiculously forgiving of some of the shit Mac had tried to pull in the past.

Nonetheless, as he stood in front of him now, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly small.

“So you arrived in Sakini at 1300 hours?”

“Yes sir.”

“What was the situation on the ground?”

“At first, quiet. There were a couple of locals around, but they didn’t appear armed and they didn’t visibly react to our presence at all.”

“At first?”

Mac swallowed, willing himself to keep his thoughts in the right order. The last thing he needed was to add ‘filing an inaccurate report’ to his list of transgressions. “Jack – Sergeant Dalton – went out to do a survey of the area. I stayed back in the vehicle. When he deemed it was clear, he called me out while he set up on the roof of a building in- the town square, I guess.” He pointed at the appropriate place on the map, well aware that the handful of buildings hardly constituted a town, much less one in possession of anything resembling a square, but the building Jack had chosen had good sightlines and that was the main point.

“You went looking for the IED.”

“Yes.”

“Did you encounter any resistance?”

“No. The locals all kept out of my way, but not so much so I thought they were actively avoiding me. More like they just didn’t want to get involved in our business.”

“But you did find a device?”

“Yes sir, but not for an hour or so. It had been tucked into the gap between two buildings and blocked off with crates. Just getting to it took longer than it should have done.”

Torres’ expression twisted in something that might have been sympathy. Two US soldiers alone in possibly hostile territory for over an hour was never the start of a happy story.

“Once I did get to it,” Mac continued, bracing himself, “I was able to disarm it pretty quickly. The device was well hidden, but not particularly well built. It had a single failsafe, but compared to a lot of what we’ve been seeing recently, it was surprisingly basic.”

Evidently, his opinion was not welcome; the Major’s face darkened. “If that’s the case, then why is one of my men in the infirmary following an explosion, Specialist?”

He ducked his head on instinct, shame and fear washing over him afresh. It didn’t matter; what had happened, happened, and beating around the bush now wasn’t going to change that.

“Because I messed up, sir,” he said honestly. “The device was successfully disarmed, but before I could pack it up, Sergeant Dalton alerted me to hostiles closing in on our position. One of them must have been watching Sakini in case we showed up. There were too many of them for Jack to safely deal with alone and they were between us and our transport, so I came up with a plan to funnel them into a small space, and then trigger the explosion. It seemed like our best shot of taking them all out at once, so Jack agreed.”

Torres nodded, but didn’t interject with his own opinion.

Mac cleared his throat. “I needed a minute to rearm the device, and we needed to make sure they all got into position, so Jack acted as the bait. He took a few pot shots at them to get their attention, then made a run for it. Thankfully, they followed. I planted the device at a weak point on the building’s exterior, armed it, and retreated.”

“Dalton didn’t have time to clear the building?”

If Mac had been a little more dishonest – and perhaps less certain that he wouldn’t immediately get caught in the lie – he might have said yes. It still put him on the hook for blowing up his Overwatch, but it still felt a little less like a crushing failure on his part. But that wasn’t who Mac was, and even if it had been, it certainly wasn’t who Jack was, and the second he woke up he’d be asked to give his own account of things. The only way forward was the truth, no matter what it might be.

“Actually, he made it out okay. Things appeared to have gone perfectly but… I wasn’t watching my back, sir. I thought that all the hostiles had entered the building and I wasn’t careful enough. One of them managed to flank me. He was yelling something – I don’t speak Arabic – and dragging me back towards the building – I fought him, but…”

The memory flashed back to him, a warm hand painfully tight on his arm, the hard barrel of an assault rifle jabbing into his ribs, and neither of those things as scary as the IED he was being hauled towards. He’d tried to say something, tried to struggle, but the man had been huge even if he hadn’t had a gun to back him up. Mac hadn’t stood a chance.

Fortunately, Torres seemed to read into what he wasn’t saying. “Dalton doubled back to help you.”

“Yes sir.” His voice sounded small even to himself.

“And he got caught in the blast when he came too close to the building.”

“Yes sir.”

A pause. “Were you hurt in the explosion?”

Mac blinked in surprise, caught off guard. In truth, once Jack had gone down and stopped answering his radio, it had never occurred to Mac to even think about himself. “Uh, no sir. The man holding me was – he was between me and the device, so he caught the worst of it. Knocked him out, I think.”

“You think?”

“I- uh. I knew Sergeant Dalton was hurt. I was more focused on getting to him and getting him out than I was about the hostiles.” He knew it sounded bad even as he said it. He tried his best to look sheepish, but all he really felt was bone-deep weariness. He wanted this to be done. “I’m sorry sir.”

The Major shook that off, unconcerned. “With your Overwatch down, Dalton should have been your priority. EOD aren’t trained to be combatants.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but Mac was hardly about to argue with the man. Besides, he doubted it had escaped notice that he wasn’t wearing his sidearm; he’d been given one as part of his kit and told to carry it with him whenever he was in uniform, but after about a month of working with Jack, he’d felt safer leaving it in the Humvee instead. He wasn’t confident that if there was a hostile in front of him he’d be able to shoot them anyway, so carrying around a loaded weapon was more of a liability than anything. Jack didn’t agree, but he hadn’t pressed the issue.

“What happened next?”

“I found Jack buried in the rubble. He had a visible head wound and he was unconscious. When I couldn’t wake him, I carried him back to our vehicle and came straight here.”

Torres nodded slowly. “Do you have anything else of note to report?”

“No sir.” He held still, waiting for his verdict. He could personally point out about twelve different things he’d done wrong, and every single one of them added up to Jack in a hospital bed. If it really was anything worse than a concussion…

If it came to that, there wasn’t anything the Major could do to Mac that he wouldn’t deserve.

“Alright,” the man said, his voice heavy and drawn. “I take it you know that I’ll have to report this up the chain. Circumstances aside, catching your own teammate in a repurposed IED blast isn’t going to look good and that’s before we even get to you getting ambushed.”

“Yes sir.”

Torres sighed, looking momentarily softer than he had any right to after the shitshow he’d just heard about. “For now, the most any of us can do is wait for Dalton to wake up so he can give his own report. We’ll go from there. In the meantime, I’ll send some men out to Sakini to work on clean-up; you go get washed up. You’re off rotation until your Overwatch is back on his feet.”

The very idea of having a shower and going to bed felt utterly heavenly – just thinking of being gifted such a reward after what he’d done made something in Mac balk. He straightened up, trying to make himself look firm. “That’s not necessary, sir. I’m still fit for work.”

Torres paused in surprise, then gave him a quick look up and down. “You’re asking for another Overwatch?”

Mac hesitated, but didn’t back down. “Not permanently, sir. I know Sergeant Dalton’s tour is conditional. But while he’s in recovery, if there’s work that needs doing then I’m happy to do it.”

The Major didn’t look entirely thrilled by the idea, but he wasn’t turning him down cold either. Mostly, he seemed thoughtful. “It sounds like you were pretty close to an explosion yourself. You’re sure you’re in good shape?”

“I mostly caught the blowback, sir. Made my ears ring, knocked the wind out of me. Nothing serious, nothing permanent.” It was true, too. He really had gotten off incredibly lightly given the severity of the situation, and he could mostly thank the man who had been trying to kill him for it. He’d ended up acting as a surprisingly effective human shield, in the end.

Slowly, Torres nodded. “Okay. I’m going to ask you to get a medical check-up to confirm you’re as okay as you say you are, but if that comes back clean, you can keep working. As it happens, one of our other EOD techs – Garcia – is shipping out in the morning, and his Overwatch doesn’t have a new partner yet. You know Corporal Lee?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. You can stick with him until Dalton’s back on rotation. Check in with him directly to get your instructions, clear?”

“Clear, sir. Thank you.”

“Good. Now, go get that check-up and find out what’s become of your partner. You know he won’t be happy about you working with someone else.”

Torres said it lightly, sharing something of an in-joke that Mac was only half party to. Jack had never properly explained the nature of his deal with Torres – and the Colonel above him – to extend his tour with some provisos, but he’d got the impression that there had been a lot of shouting involved. Honestly, he’d been glad to steer clear of it. Apparently, though, it wasn’t too much of a sore point with Torres anymore and Mac was grateful; he’d hated to know that Jack had put so much on the line for his sake.

With a clear dismissal, Mac saluted, then turned on his heel and headed back to the medical tent. He avoided the emergency area this time, electing instead to go into the space just beyond it that was set aside for the standard check-ups that active soldiers were routinely subjected to.

Stupidly, it wasn’t until he was gestured towards an unoccupied booth that he realised his palm was still coated in dried, flaking blood. In everything that had happened, he’d completely forgotten about the minor wound. Not that there was anything to be done about it now. It wasn’t like he could hide it and besides, it really was only very minor. It shouldn’t pose any threat to his ability to work.

When the doctor made it round to him, he suffered through the indignity of the exam with little grace, too worn out and drained to make small talk. Fortunately, the doctor seemed to understand his mind was elsewhere, because he maintained a solid professional demeanour throughout and didn’t prod when others might have done. He cleaned out the slice in Mac’s palm, agreeing that it wouldn’t need stitches, and carefully checked his torso for any signs of major damage. Finding none, he signed off on Mac’s duty form and gave him back his shirt.

“You’re Dalton’s partner, right?” He said, just as Mac finished getting dressed again.

Mac’s eyes snapped up to look at him. “Yes. Is he- Is there news?”

The man shot him a reassuring smile, flapping a hand to soothe his obvious concern. “Everything’s okay, calm down. He took a hell of a knock to the head, but there’s no signs of critical damage. We’ll be keeping him in for a few days for concussion and cognition checks and the like, but from what I’ve heard, he got off remarkably lucky. He’s sedated at the moment, but I think they’re planning to bring him around in the next hour or so – you can go and sit with him if you like?”

He made a vague sweeping gesture in the direction of the main ward, an obvious invitation, but despite his desperation to see that his partner really was still in one piece, Mac hesitated.

The last time Jack had been injured – a bullet graze over the meat of his shoulder that he seemed annoyed by more than anything – Mac had planted himself at his partner’s side and refused to budge. It had felt like the right thing to do; Jack had always made a point of sticking around whenever Mac was ill or injured, and the least he could do was return the favour. Besides, sitting and chatting with him was a lot better than continuously replaying the moment when the bullet had caught him, his cry of pain and surprise. Jack had certainly seemed to appreciate the company while he waited out the required bedrest portion of his recovery.

But that had been then, when Jack had been wounded by a bullet Mac couldn’t possibly have done anything about. Now, he was laid up with a head injury because Mac hadn’t been smart enough to watch his own back for all of five minutes and had ended up luring his partner into an explosion he caused. On every possible level, Jack’s injuries were his fault.

There wasn’t the slightest chance that the first thing he would want to see when he woke up would be Mac’s face.

He became distantly aware that he’d frozen in place and the doctor had started to eye him critically, so he slapped on what he hoped looked like a relieved smile.

“Nah, that’s okay. I don’t want to disturb him if he needs the rest. Besides, I’m knackered too.”

To his credit, the doctor managed to keep whatever he thought about that off his face. Instead, he offered an obliging smile. “Of course. You’ve had a rough day too.”

Mac nodded, then a thought occurred to him. “Can you let me know, though, if- If something happens?”

No matter how much Jack might not want to see Mac, the only way Mac would be able to not bear seeing him is if he knew that the man was going to be okay. He needed to know that his own stupidity hadn’t done worse than what he already knew about.

“Of course. You’re set up as his base contact anyway, so you’re supposed to be kept in the loop.”

He hadn’t known that Jack had done that, though in hindsight it made sense. He’d done the same the day after Jack had decided to stay on after all. Still, the very thought of it now, when Mac was just about the one person in the entire FOB who Jack shouldn’t be relying on to be there in times of trouble- It stung.

He buried the sensation as best he could under a wave of fatigue and hopped down off the examination bed. If he was going to have a breakdown over this, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be here.

“Is that everything?” He asked the doctor, wanting to be done and away from here.

He smiled. “That’s everything, Specialist. You make sure you get some rest before shipping back out tomorrow, okay? I don’t want to see you back here any time soon.”

“Sir yes sir.”

With that done and a form confirming he was ready for active duty clutched tightly in one hand, he scooped up his and Jack’s packs, as well as Jack’s rifle which he still hadn’t had time to return, and marched back out into the blazing sunlight.

The first few times Jack woke up, he spent the few minutes of consciousness he had in muddled confusion. There were bright lights and lots of sound, then pale blue moonlight and muffled voices, then light again – through all of it, he couldn’t have said where he was or what was happening. Everything was too distant and vague to grasp, and fatigue had sunk its claws deep into his mind, dragging him back whenever he dared to try to push ahead.

He couldn’t give up though. He might not know what was going on, but he was sure that there was something he was forgetting, something important. Whatever it was didn’t matter – all that did, was that Jack needed to wake up and get to it.

It wasn’t until he finally blinked himself properly awake that he was able to put some logic to the flashes he’d caught before. He was in a hospital bed, with the slowly undulating fabric of a tent above him – the FOB. That certainly made sense, given that he felt like he’d been hit by a truck, but it didn’t really explain the why of that whole situation and no memories seemed ready to spring forth from the depths of his mind to enlighten him.

Christ, what the hell had happened to him?

He crawled his hand over the scratchy bedding, searching for a call button and ending up surprised when he actually found one. Any higher tech than the stone age was normally reserved for the MOB, and since he was in a tent then he clearly wasn’t there. Shrugging it off as unimportant, he hit the button and waited.

A nurse appeared between the screens around his bed less than twenty seconds later. “Sergeant Dalton? Back with us this time?”

“This time?” He muttered, then regretted it when his throat rasped horribly over the words. Clearly he’d been out for a while.

Understanding brightened in her face, and she stepped closer to retrieve a cup of water from his bedside table and present the straw in front of his face. Uncomfortable as he was, he was pretty certain he could have held the cup himself, but it hardly seemed worth the argument when she was willing to do it. Besides, having a beautiful woman feed him by hand was hardly going to be the low point of his day.

When he was done, she returned the cup to its place and pulled out his chart. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Any pain?”

“Headache. Feels like I got run over. What happened?”

Her eyes flicked towards him, measuring. “How would you rate the severity of your headache on a scale of one to ten?”

“Four. It’s fine. What happened?”

She pulled a penlight out from the pocket of her scrubs and leaned in to examine his pupils. He let it happen with increasing impatience, long since aware that trying to rush medical staff when they were intent on checking him over was a losing game. Better to let her get it out of her system before pushing too hard for answers.

“Pupil response is normal,” she said after a moment. “It looks as though your concussion is clearing up nicely. Unfortunately you’re still in what we would consider the danger period for head injuries, so you’re going to be staying with us a few days yet for monitoring.”

That was annoying as hell, but with no idea what was wrong with him, he had no scale of what was reasonable. “Sure, fine, whatever. Can you please tell me what happened? I don’t remember getting hurt.”

Truthfully, he didn’t remember much of anything.

She hesitated, but she must have seen the determination in his eyes because she folded without further argument. “You were hit by falling masonry following an explosion. I don’t know the details beyond that. Your partner brought you in.”

His partner-?

Mac!

A rush of memories suddenly hit him, so sharp and fierce that he actually sucked in a hard breath in surprise. The IED in Sakini, hostiles closing in, an utterly insane idea from Mac that just might be crazy enough to work – and it did, right up until he heard a scuffle over the radio, Mac’s voice tight with stress saying, let go of me, we can’t go in there, there’s a bomb-

He hadn’t hesitated for a second to race back in the direction he’d come.

“My partner-” He said wildly, coming to life all of a sudden as cold terror rushed through him. “Mac- Is he- What happened? Where is he?”

Something had to have gone wrong. If he was alright then he would be here, teasing Jack for being so muddled and letting him see with his own eyes that he was unhurt. That was what they did.

The nurse’s hand pressed down firmly on his shoulder, forcing him back down from where he’d tried to jackknife upright. “Sergeant! Please, stay calm. Your partner is completely fine. Specialist MacGyver, right? He’s okay. No injuries.”

Jack’s wild eyes found hers and latched on, seeking truth. “He’s okay?”

“Yes. I promise you. When he brought you in, he wasn’t injured. He had a physical to clear him for duty and came up clean. You’re the one we’ve been worried about.”

There was a lot there that he needed to process, and most of it seemed beyond his exhausted mind, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Mac was okay. That was- well, honestly, that was far better than he had any right to expect given the nightmare situation they’d been in, and the fact that apparently Jack had just checked out and left the kid to deal with it, in hostile territory no less. God, he owed him a beer.

But if he’d been sought medical clearance, then that meant… “He’s back on duty?”

The nurse nodded, evidently surprised by the question. It was standard practice for uninjured soldiers to rotate as needed around their teammates’ injuries, and if Mac really wasn’t hurt then there was absolutely no need for him to be sitting around the FOB twiddling his thumbs. But, then, ‘standard practice’ had never been their way of doing things. Thanks to Jack’s very carefully worded agreement with the Brass, the pair of them should have been free to turn down any requests for temporary reassignment.

Then again, Mac didn’t seem the type to pass on a call to duty, particularly if there were lives on the line.

He nodded slowly, letting that knowledge settle inside him. Mac was alive and uninjured, if not exactly safe. Jack was – apparently – alive and relatively okay. A win all round, really – so why did he feel like something had gone horribly wrong?

“Okay,” he said slowly, then again more firmly. “So, doc. Give it to me straight: how am I doing?”

Jack had kind of assumed that Mac had been absent when he woke because it was clearly the middle of the day, which logically meant that he was off-base somewhere. That was perfectly understandable and given the circumstances, Jack could understand why he’d done it – Mac hadn’t known that Jack was finally going to wake up after all and since he’d apparently been in and out for three whole days, it wasn’t surprising he’d not elected to sit around, bored out of his mind. Still, that logic fell apart just a little bit when night fell and no blond bomb nerd appeared at his elbow.

He knew that Mac was his contact, which meant he must have been informed that Jack was awake and talking and yet- He went to sleep that evening with no visitors.

He slept in the next morning, unintentionally, so if Mac had stopped by before heading out then he would have missed him. He almost wanted to ask one of the staff, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the kid hadn’t been by at all and that… That didn’t feel right.

It wasn’t that Jack thought he was owed Mac’s time or attention or anything like that, but he’d kind of thought that he’d get it anyway. The last time he’d been stuck in the hospital ward, he hadn’t been able to shake Mac off for more than a few minutes at a time, no matter how much he’d pleaded with him to go back to the barracks and get some proper sleep. Any time one of the staff had tried to chase him out, he’d planted his feet and refused to be moved. It had been touching, in an odd kind of way, a clear demonstration of Mac saying ‘If you’ve chosen me, I’ve chosen you too.’

Now- Now it was different, and Jack was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing.

Some careful questioning – and an outright demand for an explanation from Major Torres when he showed up to get Jack’s report – had brought some things to light, but made others even murkier. For one, Mac had actively requested to remain on duty. After what had happened last time, that was a big red flag in its own right. He did at least have Lee watching his back, someone who Jack knew to be a crack shot and clever with it, so he probably wasn’t getting himself into too much trouble, but still.

Torres had also made it clear that their failed mission was not being received particularly well by the higher ups. When pressed, he’d alluded to the fact Mac had – apparently entirely willingly – painted himself right into the corner and placed the blame directly on his own shoulders. Jack hadn’t been able to keep himself from swearing aloud. Goddamn self-sacrificing idiot. He’d tried to make it clear that Mac hadn’t been to blame for what happened, and Torres seemed inclined to listen to him, but the details of his report did match up squarely with what Mac had said. The only difference was that Jack wasn’t about to start playing the blame game.

All signs pointed to something being very, very wrong with his partner.

When that evening rolled around and there was still no Mac, Jack had been about ready to climb out of bed himself and hunt the git down. In the end he was spared the trouble by a surprise visitor – just not the one he’d been expecting.

“Jackie! You’re looking- well, a bit shit, honestly, but much better than before.” Corporal Lee – Ryan, to basically everyone who had known him for more than five minutes – stuck his head through the break in the screens and offered him a wide, toothy grin.

“Thanks,” he shot back, grimacing at him then stopping when it pulled at the colourful array of bruising he knew was adorning his face – and most of the rest of him, come to think of it. “What are you doing here?”

Ryan slipped through the screens to stand beside him, casting a careful eye over his injuries even while he waved a careless hand in dismissal. “Your boy got a splinter that I’m making him get checked out. Thought I’d stop by to see you since I’m already here.”

White, electric panic shot down Jack’s spine. “Mac’s hurt?”

“No, no, he’s fine! Yeesh, calm down. It really is just a splinter, I promise, cross my heart. If he was anybody else, I wouldn’t have made him come here but I swear to god, someone needs to teach that boy he’s not immortal.”

The words were clearly meant in jest, but Jack felt the pit of worry in his gut that had opened when he woke up without Mac beside him suddenly yawn wider. Mac had never been particularly good at putting his own safety on his list of priorities, and if he really was blaming himself for Jack’s injuries, then there was a good chance he’d be acting downright reckless.

“He’s been giving you a hard time?” He asked, just to make sure.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Honestly man, I have no idea how you do it. I’ve been driving myself hoarse telling him to keep his goddamn head down and I’ve only been working with him a few days.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said, hoping his levity covered the ice crawling through his chest. Goddamn it Mac, you don’t get to do this. “You two have any trouble?”

“Nothing worth reporting on. More IEDs than I ever wanted to see in my life but that’s kinda par for the course, right?”

“Tell me about it.”

“But other than that, it’s been pretty quiet. Word got around that your boy took out ten hostiles on his own, so maybe the T-men are all too busy trying to stay out of his way. I sure fucking would if I were them.”

That did actually pull a smile out of Jack, despite everything. The situation was definitely FUBAR, but it was about time someone other than him realised the sheer elemental force that was a pissed off Angus MacGyver. For a skinny little bomb nerd, he packed a surprising punch.

“You haven’t seen the half of it yet.”

“You have no idea how horrifying that is to hear, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Hey, you said he was here, right? In medical?”

Ryan rolled his eyes, smiling. Clearly he wasn’t distracted by Jack’s meek attempts at feigning disinterest. “Yes, he’s about twenty metres that way, and yes, I will tell him to come and see you as soon as that pretty blonde nurse stops flirting with him. I thought he was gonna come yesterday, but he ended up just crashing. Not sure he’s been sleeping all that well.”

The last was said with a quiet, gentle concern, the type of tone that made Ryan one of the most popular soldiers on base. He might be a devil in a firefight, but he was genuine and he cared about the men he served with well beyond what he was officially required to do. Jack was, not for the first time, very glad that this was the Overwatch Mac had been transferred to.

“Who does, in this place? Can you remember what your twenties were like? I’m glad I didn’t spend mine in this hellhole.”

Ryan shuddered. “I don’t think I was ever that young.”

“Me neither.” They shared a look of weary amusement as Ryan patted a warm hand to his shoulder and kicked off from where he’d been leaning against the bed.

“I’ll go make sure your boy doesn’t escape without saying hello. You take care man, okay? We’ve missed you in the barracks.”

“Not sure anyone’s ever missed my snoring before,” he shot back with a smile, then sobered. “And hey, thanks man. For watching out of him. There’s no one else I’d trust more.”

“Don’t sweat it. You’ve pulled my ass out of the fire before. You just rest up and let me take care of your bomb nerd for a bit.”

Mac knew that Ryan had only really been making him come to medical to prove a point and that it was all in service of trying to watch out for him while Jack was laid up, but he still found himself pissed off by it. He wasn’t a child in need of someone to pull out his splinters – he’d been perfectly capable of doing that since he was five. Besides, Ryan hadn’t even tried to pretend it wasn’t payback for Mac ignoring his warnings earlier that morning and momentarily ducking out of his sightline to check out a suspicious rock pile.

There hadn’t even been anything buried under the rocks – it was just a false alarm. He’d been back under the protective watch of Ryan’s scope inside of a minute.

All of this to say, he was pretty sour about the whole experience. The nurse was incredibly patient with him, raising an eyebrow at Ryan when he cheerfully explained the problem like he was a parent dropping a kid off at daycare. The attitude had not helped matters. Regardless, she’d sat him down and pulled out her disinfectant and tweezers, and hadn’t reacted at all to Mac’s stormy expression.

It was a waste of his time, and more importantly hers. There were soldiers here with real, actual injuries that needed tending to and here he was taking up space and resources for a ‘wound’ he had scarcely even noticed. Still, he was here now and it wasn’t like Ryan wasn’t going to give him shit for it if he didn’t stick around, so he stayed where he was, feeling worse with every passing minute.

The splinter was hardly difficult to find, in inch long fragment of wood sticking haphazardly out of the inside of his wrist. Too shallow to cause any real damage, but long enough to itch something fierce. It had taken all of Mac’s willpower not to scratch himself raw on the drive back. The nurse hummed in sympathy when she saw it, but didn’t take the opportunity to make a comment that would so visibly have been unwelcome. She simply disinfected her tweezers and got to work.

The process hurt, but it was superficial. More frustrating was the agonising amount of time she spent examining the wound, trying to make sure she’d removed every last bit of debris before she let him go. He knew that it was literally her job to thorough and that he’d live to regret it if there was something nasty still lurking under his skin, but he couldn’t help his own impatience. He’d done everything he could to avoid the medical tents in the last few days and now he was stuck here, no doubt metres away from his Overwatch.

The urge to give in and seek Jack out was almost overwhelming now that he was actually here.

He’d been told that he’d woken up and didn’t appear to have suffered any neurological effects from his injuries or from his extended sedation, but Mac couldn’t trust that until he saw it with his own eyes. If he hadn’t been so sure that Jack wouldn’t want to see him, he’d have been at his side as soon as he heard the news. As it was, Jack hadn’t asked for him so he’d stayed clear.

Ryan reappeared just as the nurse was smoothing a dressing down over the small gash. “Dalton’s a tough son of a bitch, huh?”

Mac’s head snapped up to look at him. “You’ve been to see him?”

“Yeah. And, as it turns out, I think he’s pretty surprised that you haven’t.” Ryan raised his eyebrows pointedly, somehow both a question and a condemnation. Mac was in no mood to answer either.

He shrugged. “I’ve been busy, and he’s been sleeping.”

“He’s not sleeping now.” Mac bit his tongue to clamp down on his response to that. Fortunately, Ryan didn’t seem to need one, because he continued, “He’s asking to see you. If you’re done here?”

The nurse, packing up her things, nodded amiably as an answer, then bid them both goodbye and left. Mac somehow felt more exposed with her gone and nothing else to distract Ryan’s attention.

He wanted to refuse. The only reason Jack would be asking after him is if he wanted to tear him a new one for being so uncompromisingly shit at his job that he’d nearly killed his partner, and Mac just didn’t think he was solid enough to take that right now. But, really, that didn’t matter. If Jack wanted to chew him out, then it wasn’t like it was anything Mac didn’t one hundred percent deserve. He’d have to face the music sooner or later and he stubbornly refused to be a coward about it.

“Okay,” he said instead of trying to find an excuse. “Lead the way.”

Brave face or not, apparently he was a coward in the end anyway, because he hesitated at the very last hurdle; it had taken Ryan physically pushing him forwards to get him past the screens surrounding Jack’s bed. The view that greeted him was- not unexpected, but hardly a pleasant one either.

Jack was awake and blinking at him, which was a vast improvement on the unconscious slump he’d worn the last time Mac had laid eyes upon him, but his face was also a patchwork of blues and purples, softening to a sickly yellow at the edges. He looked – well. He looked like a wall had been dropped on his head.

He opened his mouth with absolutely no idea what was about to fall out of it, but it didn’t matter because Jack immediately cut him off.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

It brought Mac up short. “I- What?”

“Me getting hurt. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Jack-”

“No, shut up, listen to me. I know you and I think I’m finally getting some idea of what’s going on in that idiot head of yours because you told Torres that you were to blame for all this. Isn’t that right?”

“Well. I am.”

Jack huffed, visibly annoyed, and Mac had no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation. He’d expected anger, shouting, not whatever this was. “Goddamn it kid. This isn’t on you, of course it isn’t. Why would you even think that?”

He’d apparently meant it as some sort of rhetorical question because he blanched when Mac put up a hand to count his mistakes on his fingers. Jack spoke before he had the chance to start.

“No, don’t actually answer that. Forget I asked. Look, whatever moon logic you’re using to blame yourself for this? It’s nonsense, man. And no one else is going to tell you that because they don’t know, but I was there, okay? I was there the whole time. And I’m telling you right now that you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Distantly, Mac felt his body trembling. This wasn’t what he’d expected.

“We were in a shit situation, and your quick thinking is what got us out of it. I’m the one who was stupid enough to run towards an active IED even when I knew it was about to blow. And even after that, when the person who’s supposed to be watching out of you was out for the count, you kept your shit together long enough to get us both home without any further injury.”

Mac blinked at him.

“You saved my life, man.”

That was too much. He hissed, flinching at the absurdity of it. “I nearly killed you.”

“Nah, I did that. My mistake, not yours. And besides, I’m fine – couple of bruises ain’t nothing.”

“You were coming back because I was in trouble. Because I couldn’t look after myself for three minutes.”

Jack was shaking his head and Mac wished he’d stop because it looked like it hurt, and he couldn’t bear any more of Jack’s pain right now. “We were surrounded by hostiles Mac. It’s my job to keep an eye out for them so you can keep your eyes right where they need to be, and even I thought they’d all gone into that building. Anyone outside of that was trying to keep out of sight and you had no way of knowing you needed to be watching for that kind of threat. That’s what I’m here for, remember?”

Unable to find words to refute him, Mac just shook his head adamantly.

His Overwatch’s gaze turned soft. “Hey, man, c’mon. You’ve got to know that you didn’t have any control over what happened, and the bits you did, you did great. You got me out of there all by yourself. So what’s going on man?”

Mac hesitated, feeling torn open and raw, but somehow still entirely safe under Jack’s eyes. When he said nothing further, Mac felt himself deflate. “I’ve never-” He stopped, retried. “I didn’t come out here to hurt people,” he managed quietly. “All I’ve tried to do is disarm IEDs and limit the destruction and then this time…”

“This time you were the one setting the bomb.” Jack’s voice was level, understanding and without judgement.

“Yeah. And, of course, not only do I manage to-” He bit off the end of that sentence, his breathing ragged. “I also nearly killed you.”

He was aware that there were tears welling in the corners of his eyes, but he honestly couldn’t have been sure what emotion they were trying to convey. He just felt overwhelmed.

Jack put out a hand, setting his fingertips lightly on Mac’s elbow, the only part of him he could reach where Mac was keeping his distance. “That was the first time you killed someone,” he said calmly.

Wordless and bereft, Mac nodded. One of the tears slipped free.

“Ah, kiddo,” Jack breathed, leaning over a little further to grab Mac’s arm properly and pull him closer. Laid up as he was, he couldn’t offer much of a hug, but he was able to settle for tucking Mac into the curve of his arm and settling him there. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you hear me? I’m so sorry that you were in that situation at all, but you did everything right. Those men- They would have killed you and me and everyone in that village without hesitation, okay? I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you were protecting people Mac.”

Exhausted, overwhelmed, and with no way of voicing any of it, Mac just clung to Jack with a desperation he’d be self-conscious about if he was anyone else. Jack shushed him softly, running his hand up and down his back, and it was only then that Mac realised he was crying.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled wetly, not sure himself if he was apologising for Jack’s injuries or his own meltdown.

“Ain’t got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t. I’ll keep telling you as long as you need to hear it hoss, but this wasn’t your fault. None of it.”

They stayed like that for a long time. Mac felt himself starting to come together again just a little, still raw and hurting but able to breathe again. It was imperfect, but it was still somehow the best he’d felt in days. When he pulled back his head to look at Jack, he found his Overwatch smiling at him.

“There you are. Had me worried for a moment.”

“Sorry.”

Jack snorted. “If you insist on apologising, you could at least have the decency to do it for something that actually deserves it. Like, say, driving Ryan up the wall with your reckless behaviour?”

Mac’s eyes dropped, flushing. Jack just laughed at him, warm and relieved, absent of any actual anger. That part would probably come later, but it was obvious to anyone who looked that Mac wasn’t going to be able to withstand that sort of attack right now.

“Damn it kid. You’re okay though, right? Not hiding any injuries or something?”

“No. I should be asking you that. You’re the one who nearly died.”

“I’m not that easy to kill, brother. And besides, I had you watching my back. I knew you’d get me home safe.”

Mac’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think unconscious counts as safe.”

“I’m awake now, aren’t I?”

“Jack.”

Unable to help himself, Jack ruffled a hand through Mac’s mop of hair, laughing when he chirped in alarm and rapidly backpedalled out of reach. “I’m going to be just fine Mac. Quit worrying about me. I’ll be back on duty and driving you crazy over the radio in no time at all.”

When it came, Mac’s smile was a careful thing. “Can’t wait.”

“Me neither kid. Me neither.”

#MacGyver #angus macgyver #jack dalton #sandbox #whump of july 2021 #fanfiction #my fanfic #fanfic

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radiorenjun · 4 years ago

Text

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: vii, viii

"What? They can't just break up like that!" you gaped, shaking Renjun's shoulder lightly to exaggerate your point. Renjun rolled his eyes before clicking his tongue, "oh come on, you didn't see that coming? Their relationship was bound to end at some point, y/n."

You were both binge watching the ninth season of The Big Bang Theory at your house, originally planning to study and do chemistry homework together, but being the procrastinator you were, you ended up getting distracted. Hence, why the two of you are sitting on your bed watching one of the most heartbreaking episodes on The Big Bang Theory while munching on some pizza,

“But they were so cute together! My Shelamy heart can’t take this, Injun!” you shook your best friend aggressively as you continue to whine, ignoring the sighing boy who was contemplating on why he was even friends with you in the first place. “He even got a ring for her, if that isn’t the cutest thing ever then I don’t know what is,” you groaned, collapsing on your bed as the thought of someone giving you a wedding ring made your heart flutter.

“Always the hopeless romantic,” Renjun sighs, running a hand down his face as if to say ‘I’m so done right now’. “Disgusting,” he teased, letting out a soft grunt once he felt you throw a pillow at the back of his head. “Shut up, nerd. You still have to find your soulmate, why not let your magnificent best friend mourn over the fact that she’s gonna be single for the rest of her life and let a girl dream?” you joked, earning a dark glare from Renjun.

Ouch, why did that hurt? It was your own joke after all.

“Don’t say that you sadist. You need to stop making jokes bout the bad things in life, that’s not very healthy.” Renjun lectured, his hand coming up to pinch your cheek hard. You frowned, pulling his hand away from you as you chuckled nervously. “You know me, Jun. Humor is a coping mechanism for everything. I’m mad at you when you mock me for simping over Timothée Chalamet when he starred on Little Women? I use sarcastic humor as a revenge.”

“I feel frustrated for failing that test because the damn substitute teacher wouldn’t believe me that I didn’t skip school instead of spending the whole day in the infirmary with a twisted ankle, watching Goblin with the nurse? I use sardonic humor to snap back at said teacher.”

“I get sad for accepting the fact that I am going to be single for the rest of my life? I use dark humor to cope with it instead of curling up in a ball and eat ice cream for the rest of my life and get Type 2 Diabetes.” you shrugged shamelessly as Renjun gaped at you, rubbing his temples to slowly process on your words. “Okay, firstly,” he started.

“One, Timothée Chalamet in that movie was desperately simping over a girl who clearly didn’t deserve him. Come on, tell me you didn’t get annoyed when he keep saying the l word at Jo despite her spilling her feelings out and rejecting him countless of times.” Renjun inhaled, his eyes boring widely into yours, his words speaking nothing but facts. “I get that but-” you started before the older boy cut you off, “I’m not done yet.”

“Secondly, that substitute teacher wasn’t even a teacher. She was an ear raping machine, no one liked her. Also, I gotta admit spending a whole school day watching the Goblin arguing with The Grim Reaper instead of spending excruciating hours writing your wrist off and trying not to snooze in the middle of Mr. Lee’s math lecture would’ve been the most luxurious thing a student could ever ask for”. And I am pissed off you got injured and left me there in class, suffering all by myself.” he laughed, flicking you on the forehead teasingly.

“Lastly, if you want to say something bout Jaemin, you know you could’ve just say so instead of sugar coating it.” Renjun sucked in his lips, smacking you with the pillow you threw at him previously, mentally preparing himself to comfort you knowing that you’re bout to go on another rant of how much you missed Jaemin. But if it helps you feel better and take another small step to moving on, then he’ll listen to you rant til his brain implodes.

You frowned, letting out a soft chuckle. “You know me too well, Jun.” you felt tears lining up your eyes, you leaned your head up, trying to blink the tears away. “It’s not helping when he’s literally next door. Or in the same school as I am, or in the same planet.” you leaned back to lay on your back on the mattress, your pillow hugged tightly to your chest as you let out a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Renjun patted your knee, silently urging you to continue to let out your thoughts. You couldn’t advert your gaze away from your ceiling, “He used to be so sweet before this whole soulmate ordeal,” you began with a sniffle. “Honestly, middle school was one of the best eras of my life. When me and Jaemin were just clowns on crack playing Five Nights At Freddy’s and goofing off, it still makes my heart flutter when I think bout the memorable moments we shared in middle school.” you closed your eyes as a flood of memories clouded your mind.

7th grade, an iconic year for your friendship. “Y/N!” Jaemin called out from the other side of the classroom, causing you to turn to him in the middle of your little gossip session with your friends. “You wanna play truth or dare with us?” he asked with a sweet smile, a few of your classmates gathering to the back of the class to sit down in a circle. You nodded in excitement, ditching your friends in hopes you get a spicy dare.

You sat in between Lia and Jeno, rubbing your hands together as you waited your turn to either give or receive a truth or dare. “Jaemin! Truth or dare?” a boy whose name you can’t recall asked with a mischievous smile. Jaemin rolled his eyes before answering “dare” with a bold, cocky smirk, eyes practically challenging his classmate to give him an extreme dare. The boy stopped to contemplate before turning to him with a cheeky chesire grin.

“Since you’re so close to Y/n, why don’t you sit on her lap?” the boy snarled, causing your classmates to let out whistles and soft “ooo”s around you. You raised a brow, “wait a second, that’s not fair. This is his dare not mine, why am I the one being sat on.” you whined as Jaemin tried to hide his flustered expression of sitting on his best friend’s lap. “Well, it’s a dare either way, he’s gotta do it whether he wants to or not.” he stuck his tongue out at you as you hissed back.

“Fine.” you mumbled as Jaemin laughed and tried to conceal his flustered expression and sat on your lap idly, his hands in between his legs as you try to restrain yourself from wrapping your arms around his waist and making things even more awkward than it already is. “What’s the big deal? You wanted me to sit on her lap, why are you so shocked?” Jaemin laughed as a few of your classmates just stared at the two of you in disbelief.

“How are you not uncomfortable with a guy sitting on top of your lap?” your friend asked from across the group circle. You shrugged, raising your brow as Jaemin lets out a laugh, shrugging in response as well. “Is it wrong for a person to sit on their best friend’s lap?” Jaemin asked with a raise of his brow, a teasing smile evident on his face as your friend struggled to find the words to say next.

“I must admit, you are quite heavy. I don’t think my legs are going to last long with your heavy, tall giraffe-like body.” you laughed, causing Jaemin to turn his head back at you with a glare, letting out a small sinister smile. ”That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, y/n. Suffer.” he spoke in a bittersweet tone.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you had Mr. Na Jaemin sitting on your lap? For how long? All because of a dare?” Renjun paused, rubbing his temples to process this whole information. He knew Jaemin was a shameless and rather affectionately touchy boy, but he didn’t know that he was willing to accept such a gutsy dare. Yet again, this is you, he’s talking bout. The person who kept going for two years despite being rejected and gossiped left and right.

You shrugged, sitting up on the bed. “I was like, 11 years old. What do you want me to do, Huang? Born to be the family disgrace.” you grinned proudly, wiggling your brows as you placed a hand under your chin to pose dramatically. “You shouldn’t be proud of that. Weird flex but okay,” Renjun sighed heavily, raising a bottle of coke to his lips.

You inhaled as you began to spill another memorable moment from your childhood.

If there was one thing you and Jaemin had in common, it was that you both have absolutely no shame when flaring your dramatics.

It was 5th grade, you assume, when you and Jaemin had your first indirect kiss. It was a disturbingly iconic moment for the two of you, considering years after the incident you two kept doing it as if it were a part of your daily routine. You were at that age where kids around you were starting to take notice bout the soulmate concept. Teachers began explaining how the soulmate system worked during science class, causing you to involuntarily look at Jaemin from time to time to catch his disgusted expressions.

Often, snickering at the boy sitting in front of you who was gagging and mimicking the teacher as she explains. Sticking his tongue out in disgust when they started explaining the left tattoo concept. Jaemin sighed heavily, his hand stretching out to grab the water bottle on his table. His finger raised to push the lid off with a small pop, drinking without hesitation.

Jaemin looked down as he closed the lid and his brows furrowed at the oh-so-familiar name label on the lid of said water bottle. Written on the pink label with a sailor moon picture on the side was Y/N L/N. Jaemin almost threw up when he turned to you slowly, making you look up from your notes to give him a questioning nod at his horrified expression.

The little boy raised the water bottle to show you your little sailor moon label, making you raise your brow questioningly, as if to say, ‘what’s wrong with my sailor moon label?’

Crud, he forgot you were using the same water bottles your parents got you when you were both shopping at the thrift store.

Your eyes widened in realization when Jaemin pointed at himself and your bottle, trying not to scream in terror and get a scolding from your strict science teacher. ‘Did you,’ you mouthed, pointing an accusitory finger at the boy sitting in distress in front of you. ‘Drink from my,’ you continued, using your other hand to point dramatically at yourself then to your bottle that was still in his hands. ’My bottle?’ you asked with wide terrified eyes.

Jaemin practically gulped nervously, nodding in response. You both took a moment just staring into each other’s terrified expression, before mouthing ‘what the heck?!’ or ‘oh crud’ repeatedly, as to not gain your teacher’s attention.’You drank from my water bottle, Jaemin?!’ you mouthed, rubbing your hands against your face in distress. ‘How am i suppose to drink now?’ you whined, facepalming now that Jaemin had placed your water bottle back on your desk.

‘How am I suppose to live now knowing your spit is basically in my body? ‘ Jaemin shudders in response, grabbing his throat with disgust laced across his face. ‘Gross, I have your germs in my mouth.’ he stuck his tongue out in disgust, fake gagging as you rolled your eyes.

Renjun just gave you an incredulous look, his mouth gaping open, trying to decide whether to laugh or shake his head profusely. “Gosh, you two were born to be so dramatic. Seriously, while other people are having a mental breakdown over doing algebra, you two were in the back of the class making lovey-dovey faces because you two had your first indirect kiss.” Renjun laughed, clapping his hands as he howled back in laughter.

You sat up and whined, smacking your best friend with the pillow you were hugging earlier, causing him to laugh even more.”Oh god, I wish I came here sooner to witness that.” he wheezed, dodging your hits with his forearms as you continued to smack him on the face, chanting “shut up, Huang!” repeatedly in shame.

“I couldn’t drink from that bottle for months! It was my favorite bottle, too! The fact that Jaemin brings that bottle to school everyday was just traumatizing for the both of us! Instant trauma,” you groaned, leaning back dramatically against the mattress. Renjun laughed, smacking you with a pillow. “How did that even happen?” he asked incredulously.

“Some kid decided it would be funny to switch our bottles.” you pouted, stretching your arms across the bed like a starfish. “Did you two do anything bout it?” Renjun asked, his brows raising in amusement, practically eating your hilarious story up like it was a tub of candy. You sighed, looking away for a moment before mumbling under your breath.

“Jaemin said we should’ve replace the water in his water bottle with tap water from the bathroom, but I didn’t want to risk the guy getting a tummy ache so I spat in his drink instead.“

Renjun howled with laughter, a hand coming to hold his stomach as he leaned his head back laughing. “Why would you- Oh my god, this is gold. I can’t-” he wheezed, tears lining his vision as his tummy started to ache from laughing so hard. “Shut up! I was like, nine years old at the time. At that exact moment I felt no remorse for my actions whatsoever but now that I said it, it makes me feel even worse!” you whine, your feet kicking Renjun off the bed.

He landed on your carpet floor with a loud thud, his laughter subsiding into giggles. “That’s the chaotic energy everyone in this generation wants to have, holy shit, why wasn’t this documented ? This could’ve gone down as one of the most iconic moments in history. Honestly, whoever that kid who switched your bottle was, he’s that hero that doesn’t even need a cape.” he jokes, sitting up to earn a death glare from you.

Oh, if looks could kill, right now.

“Whatever, you sadist. Enjoying your time as you watch me suffer in despair.” you swung your arm over your eyes dramatically, feeling the mattress sink, assuming that Renjun had climbed onto the bed once again. “Come on, tell me another one. I promise I won’t laugh,” Renjun raised his pinkie finger with a soft smile. You raised your brow at him with your lips in a frown, causing Renjun to shrug innocently, “too much.”

You inhaled, your mind delving deep into the loving memories you had with Jaemin throughout your life. Your heart clenched at the next story you were bout to tell, the memory making your heart wanting to reach out for his even more. “Well, there was this one time-”

Ninth grade. Senior year of middle school. The previous day, you danced under the rain as Jaemin watched you from under the bus stop, hiding for shelter as you jumped around the empty cold streets. The fresh smell of rain hitting your nostrils as water made your clothes clung to your skin. Unfortunately for you, the next day you immediately got sick with a fever.

Receiving countless of text messages saying either ‘I told you so’ or ‘lucky bitch, you get to miss our physics test’ from Jaemin. You were shivering under the layers of blankets and hoodies you were wearing, stirring awake every hour due to how cold or thirsty you felt, tossing and turning every now and then. You turned when you heard your bedroom door opening, wondering who it was considering both your parents were busy at work at this hour.

Your eyes widened to see Jaemin, a coat hanging over his arm as he closed the door, and a plastic bag filled with delicious warm soup that you could smell from a mile away. “I can’t believe you left me to suffer all alone in school, I swear you purposely didn’t listen to me because you didn’t want to do that boring test.” Jaemin whined, a pout evident on his lips.

“Nana!” you exclaimed in a giddish tone, making grabby hands at him. Jaemin chuckled as he walked closer to your bed, sitting on the corner of your bed beside you, leaning his back against the headboard. He lays his coat on the chair behind your study desk, putting the plastic bag of food on your lap when you sat up. “Eat up. The sooner you get better, the sooner I can hug you to death for leaving me today.” He jokes.

You smiled, opening the plastic container inside to smell the scrumptious soup inside. “Chicken noodle soup, your favourite.” he spoke in a soft tone, smiling lightly at you. You grinned, grabbing the plastic spoon that came with it. “What? No soda on the side?” you grinned cheekily, earning a soft pinch to your cheek by your best friend. “Don’t you dare make song references in front of me as if you didn’t listen to me bout dancing under the rain yesterday, look where it got you now.” he tuts, shaking his head in a motherly manner.

“Geez, sorry, mom.” you teased, beginning to consuming your soup. “You’re sweating a lot, that’s a good sign.” Jaemin pushed a strand of hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear, the sudden action causing you to pause from your eating for a brief moment, before shrugging it off. “I’ll probably feel be back to normal in a day or two.” you shrugged, gulping down a spoon full of soup.

“You’re gonna need to change, take your hoodie off.” Jaemin exclaimed, pulling your almost finished soup away from you. You let out a loud, “huh?” in response, your eyes widening at his sudden statement, trying to see if he was joking but no, Jaemin was dead ass serious.

“Take your hoodie off.” Jaemin ordered. “Jaemin!” you exclaimed, pulling your blankets up to your chin, protecting yourself from him. “You’re not gona get any better with wet stinky clothes on you, Y/N.” Jaemin rolled his eyes, walking over to your closet to grab a really baggy shirt of yours, tossing the big fabric over your face. You sat up and pulled the shirt off of your face to see Jaemin strip the white hoodie he was wearing over his body.

Your eyes caught the black shirt he was wearing underneathe had tugged up along with his hoodie, exposing his toned stomach to prove the results of how much time he spent working out at the gym with Jeno recently.

You squeaked at the action, looking away with a small blush tinting your cheeks. “Jaemin, what are you-” you flushed, taking the risk of looking at Jaemin again with a flustered expression to see your best friend standing in front of you with his white hoodie clutched in his hands. “Change your clothes, you’re gonna get even more sick if you lay there with wet clothes. You ran out of hoodies, use mine, instead.” he spoke sternly.

“Jaemin, I don’t think that that’s really necessary-” you let out a small squeak when Jaemin’s face came close to yours, his hand laying on your forehead and the other laying on his own. “You’re fever’s getting even worse. Change clothes and finish your soup while I get a warm towel ready, Y/n” He spoke, turning to leave your room, shutting the door behind him, unaware of how red your face must’ve been at the sudden contact.

You felt your heart beat increase at the actions that had happen before you, Jaemin’s hoodie resting on your lap, his strong cologne filling your senses, causing you to flush red even more as you tugged your wet sweaty clothes off and changed into the shirt and hoodie Jaemin picked out for you. You bit your lip when you could practically feel his scent engulf your whole being, your face becoming more red.

Did he always smell this nice?

The fresh smell of cinnamon and comfort was the only thing you could say to describe the indescribable scent of your best friend. You felt your heart flutter at the thought of constantly wearing his hoodie, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted when Jaemin came into your room with a bucket filled with warm water and a towel in hand.

“Lay down, y/n” he ordered, sitting on the bed beside you as you sunk down on the bed, pulling your bed sheets up to your nose so he wouldn’t see how red your face is. Jaemin didn’t think much of it when he dipped the water in the warm water, squeezing the water out to leave the towel warm and soaked, laying the warm towel on your forehead.

“You really didn’t have to do this, you know.” you bit your lip, sighing at the contact of his fingertips grazing against your skin as he layed the towel gently on your forehead. “I know, but you’ll probably die here if I don’t,” he chuckles. dipping the towel again once it got cold, squeezing the water out before placing it back on your forehead. “Does that mean you care bout me, Na Jaemin?” you smirked. “That’s quite embarrassing.” you teased.

Jaemin rolled his eyes softly at you, pinching your cheeks before cooping your nose. “There’s nothing embarrassing for a guy to care for his girl.” he commented simply. It felt like an arrow of pure adoration had struck through your heart. Well, that comment backfired. Wait, what does he mean by ‘his girl’?

“I’m your girl?” you spoke after a moment of hesitation, feeling your heart race against your ribcage once again. Jaemin chuckled, flicking your forehead teasingly, “not like that, you cheeseball.” he grinned, booping your nose once again before removing the towel from your forehead.

“Get some sleep, I’ll be right here when you need me. That is, unless your parents kick me out for staying too long.” he giggles, carressing your hair with his calloused fingers. “They’ll never kick you out, you live literally next door, Nana.” you giggled, nuzzling against his touch. Jaemin chuckled, putting the towel into the bucket before leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

Your eyes widened at the sudden act of affection, causing Jaemin to grin shyly. “You just look adorable, right now.” he mumbles under his breath before standing up and walking towards the door. “Go to sleep! I’ll be watching TV if you need me!” Jaemin exclaimed before closing the door with a soft click.

I don’t know bout you, but you knew you couldn’t sleep after his sudden display of affection.

You didn’t even realize tears were slowly streaming down your face until you let out a soft sob, Renjun’s figure coming close to comfort you. You felt Renjun’s arm wrap around your back, his hand coming up to your head to lean it against his shoulder. You sniffled, trying to swallow the sob that’s waiting to erupt from your mouth.

It was like day one all over again, with you crying your eyes out and Renjun comforting you by your side with food and movies. You shut your eyes tight once you felt that familiar burning sensation on your wrist, your heart aching and stinging against your chest. Renjun noticed your pained expression, his hand quickly yet gently coming up to see your left wrist, his eyes widening at the sight. “I’ll get you an ice pack, okay?” Renjun asked worriedly, carressing your soulmate mark as if it would soothe the burning sensation.

You nodded, crying even more as Renjun quickly bolted out your room, his footsteps echoing down the halls. You sniffled, trying to wipe the tears away with your palms, but like an endless waterfall, it never stopped. Nor did the pain in your heart.

Renjun came back with a sympathetic expression plastered on his face, coming up to you and gently placing the frozen packet of peas he found in your freezer on your glowing red tattoo. Renjun softly shushing you and caressing the back of your hair, his own heart aching to see his best friend like this. He couldn’t count the many times you had cried to him bout Jaemin since the dinner with your parents.

The countless amount of times he would press a cold surface onto your left burning wrist.

The countless times you would rant how your heart was begging for Jaemin’s stupid presence.

The countless times he wanted to punch Jaemin for not showing a single ounce of guilt and for how oblivious the younger boy is to how much he had been inflicting your pain.

You fell asleep in Renjun’s hold, the pain on your wrist subsiding into a dull ache, your heart beat in your ears.

Jaemin practically dragged his bag on the floor as he entered the room. His mood decreasing as the seconds go by, his eyes dark with exhaustion and pain. Lately, he hasn’t been focusing properly on the tasks in front of him, his mind was always somewhere else when Coach was discussing strategies for next week’s game.

He was always spacing out to the sound of his own heart beating in his ears, his eyes setting on a certain object in the corner of the room he was in, his body freezing in place as his whole head was in a haze. He’s gotten a countless amount of scolding for spacing out in the middle of practice, the endless amount of times Coach would get a student to hold a volley ball from the storage closet, ready to hit him with whenever he spaces out during practice matches.

Today, he was on his breaking point, he recently failed his History test, then got another scolding from Coach. Hell, he was called to the office in the middle of class, the Coach’s heavy frown never bringing ease to his now tense figure.

Jaemin collapsed on his bed with a soft thud, trying to keep his breath under control as his Coach’s words echoed in his head, his head buried into the soft fabric of his pillow. He tried to keep his mind from overthinking Coach Kim’s words adding into his stress.

“Na Jaemin, recently, I’ve become aware of how much you’ve been a little... distracted, lately. I’m sorry to say but as Captain of the whole team, you need to be on full focus for the game. If you can’t do that then I’m afraid someone else will.”

Jaemin gripped his pillow tightly, his breathing deepen as he tries to calm himself, his heart beat increasing. He squeezed his eyes tight, the look of disappointment in his team’s expression was all he could think bout for the rest of the day. His heart feeling heavy in his chest.

“I know, I know, this seems too far but, we can’t afford to lose the school winning streak all because of our captain spacing out because of who knows what! I know I sound delirious for saying this, but we can’t risk this.”

Jaemin remembered the heavy feeling of promising his Coach that he will get his problems sorted out right away so it wouldn’t interfere in the way of winning the game. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if the endless hard work he puts into playing football the past two years went to waste when the position he trained so hard to earn was taken away just like that.

Jaemin sniffled, sitting up as he tries to shake those thoughts away. His eyes blurring slightly at his Coach’s words repeating themselves inside of his head. He stood up, stretching his arms out to release the tension in his muscles, as he tries to delve into a more positive state of mind. His eyes closing in concentration.

‘Don’t think so negatively, Jaemin. You can do this, just stay focused at the task at hand and worry bout this weird pain after the game.’

Jaemin unconsciously walked towards his window, an exhausted groan eliciting from his mouth. ‘You’ve got this !’ he thought with determination, calming his thoughts as a content smile stretched across his face. Jaemin opened his eyes slowly, his bunny smile immediately dissipated into a deep frown, his eyes widen slightly at the sight from the window across his.

You were with Renjun on your bed, doing what looks like cuddling in each other’s warm embrace. You were sitting in between Renjun’s legs, your back facing Jaemin, making him unable to see your expression. Your head was leaning against Renjun’s shoulder, his hand coming up to caress the back of your head. Jaemin’s eyes never left your figure being in such an intimate position with Renjun.

Jaemin felt his own blood boiling, his previously sour mood returning in an instant, his heart beating in his ears as his eyes stared daggers into Renjun’s head. He watched as Renjun’s eyes gaze contently to your figure laying comfortably on his, his fists clenching even more at the sight. That is, until Jaemin snapped out of it with a shake of his head.

What was wrong with him?

Why was he feeling so angry bout seeing you cuddling with someone like that?

Yet again, when was the last time you cuddled him like that. Jaemin pulled his curtains to cover the sight across him, walking to the bed, running a hand through his hair. before leaning back to lay down on his mattress with his back facing his white sheets.

Jaemin sighed as he got lost in his own thoughts once again. When was the last time he cuddled you? Or held your hand? His head turned to the side, eyes scanning the picture frames he hung up on the walls of his room, stopping at the picture you took on your trip to Busan during winter back in 7th grade.

In the picture, you had Jaemin wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. Your smile wide and your expression filled with laughter as Jaemin's happy one focused on the camera. Your eyes weren't on the camera, though, they were on him.

Cheeks and noses warm and red from the cold snow, clothes stained with the snow you played with to make snow angels and snowmen, your smile so wide, Jaemin could almost hear your bright laughter from the picture itself. As if he was reliving in that exact moment.

When did you stop smiling like that?

Jaemin realised he never noticed how forced your smiles became, how you use humor to mask every single emotion, how no matter how tired you are, you always manage to joke bout the littlest things to make him crack a smile.

"Why are you sad?" Jaemin asked as he drove you home one day, you glanced up at him with exhaustion glossing over your pupils, showing how pained you were for a split second, before you crack into a loving eye smile.

"I'm not sad, silly. I'm just tired of Mrs. Lee getting up in my ass yelling at my ear as if she was begging for my head to explode and have blood erupting out of my neck like a distorted volcano pms-ing." you joked, causing Jaemin to let out a soft laugh.

"You have the weirdest thoughts, I swear." he shook his head, his eyes glancing at you for a split second before returning to the road. "You're not normal yourself, Nana. We're all clowns in this generation, don't act like its a weird thing." you laughed, smacking his shoulder lightly.

Jaemin raised his brow at you, "me? A clown? You're practically born in a circus." he chuckled. "Says the person who says 'wow' every five seconds for the simplest of things. Post Malone basically wrote that song off of you, you should sue." you giggled, causing him to giggle.

"I am praying to God so that he could add at least add more braincells into that silly head of yours." Jaemin laughed. "God made me to be a clown, I must live on with my purpose, Nana." you added with a wink. "And a simp, too." you giggled.

Jaemin rolled his eyes at the memory, smiling at your terrible attempt at flirting. But his smile turned into a concerned expression once he remembers how pained your eyes looked at the time. As if you were holding pent up frustration, pain and emotion behind the humor.

Since when did you try to hide everything with humor? And when did he start to be one of those people who believed that you were okay behind that bright exterior? He was your soulmate for-

Wait, a second. Your soulmate? Why was he addressing himself like this? So what if he's your soulmate? It doesn't give him the right to barge into your personal problems. You didn't want to do anything with him after that dinner party, so why would he bother to think bout you when you were probably moving on with Renjun?

Jaemin licked his lips bitterly, his brows furrowed in frustration. A hand coming up to rub his face in distress, what was wrong with him these days?

Jaemin's thoughts went to how your body slumped weakly in Renjun's embrace, his eyes glancing down at your figure in a protective manner, his hand caressing your soft hair to soothe and comfort you. Jaemin knew how this would lull you to sleep in an instant, send you in a cuddly haze in people's arms.

Why did he know this?

Because he was the first one to experience it first hand, why should Renjun experience such an endearing moment? Why should Renjun see how vulnerable you are when it comes to-

Jaemin winced as the familiar pain in his chest resurfaced, his wrist aching again. He closed his eyes, 'not this again,' he thought to himself. Jaemin leaned over his drawer, his heart aching heavily against his chest as he opened the drawer to pull out a couple of pain killers

Tags: @lixseu @morks-watermelon @cherrystay @candiednickles @12am-musings @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @d-nghyck @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta

Couldn't tag: @/uncovermenow666 @/cakelyn

#nct x reader #nct angst #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #na jaemin #nct #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #nct jaemin #jaemin #na jaemin x reader #nct jaemin x reader #nct x you #nct x y/n #nct x oc

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your-local-vamp · 3 years ago

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I disappeared off of the face of the earth for a while, but I’m back ya’ll!! I need to get used to the whole writing and then posting it thing haha. Anyway! I’ve had this idea for a really long time, but was very much procrastinating on writing it. Whoops. But here it is! It’s honestly mostly focused on the whole conflict within the vampire’s mind. I like to show different sides of them. My last one was straight up a stalker, but this one is a liiiiiiitle different, you’ll see :)! I need to shut up before I spoil the entire thing out of excitement lol. Oh and also! I finally took it upon myself to research how I can write better, make it easier to read and stuff. So if there are some errors or if anyone has advice for me, please do leave a comment! Also also, I have a habit to listen to badass vibe songs while writing/reading, so if you’re interested in some recommendations, hit me up! Okay that’s really it. Have fun reading!

Again, this story contains some explicit themes (blood, character death, overall just being angsty af) so make sure to check the tags before reading!

—————

Running From Death

I once again find myself drinking in the bar located a few blocks from my apartment. That intoxicated feeling I get after a few glasses is amazing to me. It’s pleasant to feel good for a change.

Being here also allows me to converse with the humans. Which is… Interesting to say the least. Their different personalities, lifestyles, stories. I happen to eavesdrop into conversations from time to time, which results in me hearing the most outrageous stories sometimes. May they be true or not, they interest me.

I try not to attract too much attention to myself, but I fail in doing so most of the time. Blame it on my charismatic vampire looks, I guess. Humans often strike conversations with me, but I’m not one to complain. I like talking to them when I get the opportunity.

The bell attached to the front door rings. A woman enters the bar. “Oh god, it’s her again,” someone in one of the booths behind me sighs. Hmm, must be a regular. I come here embarrassingly often, enough to call myself a regular as well, but I haven’t seen her before. She’s very handsome looking.

My hand covered with a leather glove tightens around the whiskey glass.

“Control yourself, please. You’ve practiced this many times before.”

It repeats in my head over and over again. Unfortunate things usually happen when I’m drunk. It saddens me, because I wish to not hurt anyone. I was a human once too. And I want to remember the memories from back then. Try to do ‘human’ things. But it’s hard, especially with-

“Hey, how are ya doing?” A voice interrupts my intrusive thoughts.

I look up and see the handsome woman sitting on a stool next to me. Her voice is lively and confident. But it’s probably just the liquor talking.

“Just thinking.”

“Abouuuuut?”

Oh god. She’s totally wasted. I now notice that she can barely even sit up straight without falling over. I can’t help but smile at her actions though, it’s almost endearing in a way.

“Just contemplating life, really.”

“I came here to do the exact same thing!” the woman says.

“How so?” I ask, now completely interested in her story.

“Ugh, where do I even start? My shitty boss fired me today. And you know what the most fucked up part about it all is? The fact that I’ve been working there for years! I did so much for his company, but he decides to just fire me, because ‘he’s gotta cut some people down’. So, I came here to drink my sorrows away. Well, I may have already visited two other bars, so I’m kinda far gone already haha.” The woman keeps on rambling, without actually making eye contact with whom she’s talking to. But I happen to listen to every single word.

“Why did he have to cut people off?” I question the woman.

“Pfshh, I don’t even know. Not enough money, I guess. He could’ve fired literally anyone else, but-“ she interrupts her own sentence, while her eyes make contact with the bartender, “-Hey! Can I have uhhhh. Whatever he has?” she finishes, while she absentmindedly points at my own drink.

She seems to have forgotten what she was talking about before, she’s just staring at the bartender until her drink is ready.

“And what’s your excuse for being here?” she asks, while taking a sip of her whiskey.

“Just taking a break from drinking blood and killing people.”

Well, that’s what I should’ve said if I really wanted to be honest. But being honest isn’t my reality. Lying has become my forte over the many years I have been a vampire. I don’t exist in the eyes of humans. And it should stay that way.

“Just taking a break from life.”

Yeah, that should do it.

“I come over here to share my entire life story, and all you’ve got for me is that? Damn.”

Or not.

“My life is really not that interesting,” I quickly add, trying not to blow my cover.

She takes an observing look at me. I have never felt so uncomfortable in my entire existence. She gives me the feeling like she can look right through my lies. “Hahaha, I’m just messin’ with ya. I don’t like to pry into people’s lives like that anyway,” the woman smiles.

Phew, I barely got away with that one. I return a signature smile to her. The one that makes everyone all the more invested in me, it seems.

*a few hours later*

The handsome stranger and I have been talking for hours. I lost track of time a while ago. Talking, or rather listening to her, reminds me of my human days. I used to help my elder neighbors with chores around the house, but ended up listening to them for hours and hours. I knew that when I had finished the chores, there would be a nice hot cup of tea and cookies waiting for me. The elder couple loved to share their stories with me. I know now that most of them were of pure fantasy, but at that time they were something I would so eagerly wait for to hear.

This woman gives me that feeling of nostalgia. The excitement of finally hearing the story I have longed for. It’s odd, since I have only met her a few hours ago. But somehow I feel like I’ve known her for a really long time.

“Nghn, my head hurts…” She snaps me out of my thoughts. “Woah there, don’t fall off that stool now,” I say, while carefully taking a step towards her. “C-Can you take me home?”

I look at her with disbelief.

Did she really just ask me to walk her home?

“U-Uh, I can call a cab for you? Or ask one of your friends to come pick you up maybe? I’m sure that-“

“Please.”

She looks at me with eager eyes. Her intention is really for me to take her home. If only she knew what I really am. I sigh. “Let me go to the toilet first, then I’ll walk you home.” I finally surrender to the human.

The entire way to the toilet I ask myself what I’m getting myself into. I shouldn’t be doing this, I know that all too well. But I can’t just keep hiding my true feelings all the time. I want to live amongst humans. I know that we can coexist. As long as I control myself, everything will be fine.

I sigh, take my gloves off and use the toilet. My head is suddenly throbbing like hell. I can feel that my body is trying to fight the urge to kill every single soul in this bar. Everything spins.

Shit.

“Hey, you ready or not? I feel like puking!” I hear the woman urgently knocking on the door. “Y-Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” I shout back.

I quickly finish and go back to the bar. “Let’s go,” we hurriedly exit the bar. She does so, because she needs to get home asap. And I do so, because of obvious reasons.

I can feel that I’m starting to lose control. It was a mistake drinking this much. I’m usually okay with drinking a few glasses, but this woman has a certain effect on me. And it’s not a positive one. Not while I’m drunk, at least.

The woman is currently walking behind me, laughing at her own jokes. All I want right now is to drop her off as fast as I can.

“Ah, shit!” I hear a loud thud.

I look back and see that she is now sitting on the cold concrete.

“What happened?” I ask, clearly concerned.

The woman shakes her head. “I’m so clumsy, I literally just stumbled over my own feet haha.”

God, we’re never going to get anywhere like this. “Oh nooo! My new pants! Ugh, this stuff always happens to me.”

I take a quick look at her leg and notice that the fabric is ripped open. She took a great fall apparently, otherwise that wouldn’t have happened.

“Damn, I’m bleeding too.”

That’s all she had to say to make my eyes turn red and making my fangs expose themselves. I quickly turn around, hoping that she didn’t notice my weird behavior already.

“Are you okay…?” she asks, proving my thoughts wrong. I disregard her question and return it with my own.

“Is it bad?”

I don’t know why I’m asking her that. No matter of how bad it is, the mere smell of her blood is driving me insane. All I can think about is that right at this moment.

“Uhm, no I think that I’m okay.” I can hear that she’s getting up and has started to walk towards me.

“Please, don’t come any closer.” I say this with a serious tone, hoping that she’d cease to move instantly.

“What’s wrong? It’s not even that bad.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

I can’t hold the urge back anymore. I never want to hurt humans, but I also can’t forget of who I have become. I’m a vampire. To stay alive, I need blood. Alcohol has terrible effects on me.

It’s like drinking water with salt in it. You’re drinking, but it worsens your thirst because of the salt. Alcohol only enhances my thirst for blood. I’m learning the consequences of that now.

The woman has come even closer to me. I turn around, only to see a reached out hand with blood on it. I try to fight the dark side of me with everything I have. That side of me gives in, eventually. I resist the urge and grab her wrist, only to warn her to stop.

However, this action suffers a great consequence. The woman looks at me. The white of her eyes turn dark red.

Wait… I look at my hand, having a firm hold on her wrist.

“My gloves!” is all I can utter at this moment.

I have forgotten my gloves in the toilet area. How can I be so stupid… I’m unable to touch any living being with my bare hands. If I do so, it dies. Everything I touch turns into dust. It’s a curse I have carried with me ever since I turned. It has barely posed as a problem the last few years. But I… I touched her without gloves on.

“W-Wait. No. I’m sorry, please!” I beg for my actions to reverse themselves. But what happened cannot be undone.

The woman’s eyebrows furrow and her eyes look back into mine, filled with betrayal. “H-How cou-ld y-ou,” she chokes on her own blood. She is in immense pain, I can tell. I let go of her hand, terrible guilt now washing over me.

She takes a look at her shaking hand, which gets covered with popping veins inch by inch. The sounds coming from her are agonizing. She stumbles backwards, now nearing her end. Tears roll down my cheek, as I carry her.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know my gloves were…” I’m unable to finish my sentence, as my non beating heart breaks seeing her mouth all covered in blood clots.

It’s ironic, really. I was barely able to resist the smell of her blood before, but now even though I’m covered with it, I don’t seem to mind.

Her body shivers uncontrollably, until it stops moving at all. I hold her limp body, watching my tears fall on her veiny cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I keep repeating it, somewhere having a wishful thought that I could go back before all of this happened.

But her body stays unmoving. I scream and I scream, all of my human feelings washing over me now. This shouldn’t have happened. My ignorance allowed this to take place. And I will never forgive myself for it.

I hear sounds of a crowd nearing by. In total panic, I let go of her body and hide in a nearby alleyway. I crouch and hold my hands over my own ears, trying to ignore the screams that are coming from the spot where I just killed a human. The tears are now streaming down, my thoughts racing. What have I done? I should’ve never went to that bar in the first place.

Fuck, I need to get out of here before they find me. I try to leave the guilt there and run from myself as fast as I can. I am a monster. And no matter how hard I cling on to the little humanity I’ve got left, I will always remain one.

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cardigantaylor13 · 4 years ago

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malina appreciation week / day 4: song or lyrics

hello again! here are 3 of my favorite malina songs and an indepth explanation about each of them because i have uni work to do and i’m procrastinating <3 this is gonna be long long, so buckle up if you’re interested and i won’t blame you if you scroll.

(beware of spoilers!)

willow - taylor swift

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night / Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife / And if it was an open-shut case / I never would've known from that look on your face

they should’ve known!!! from the moment they saw each other when they were kids!!! in the field!!! looking at each other like they were the only ones that mattered!!!

The more that you say / The less I know / Wherever you stray / I follow

they will literally go wherever the other one goes. and they more you say!! the less I know!! I can’t explain it but just sound so THEM

I'm begging for you to take my hand

need I explain? they’re always always reaching for each other 🥺

Wreck my plans / That's my man

she chose him!!! over the darkling!!! (was he ever an option?) and over nikolai!!! she chose him! THAT’S her man. THAT’S the one she wants.

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

I think this goes both ways. they both adjust their life according to the other, and they’d go to the ends of the earth for each other.

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in

thinking about when they both were reaching for each other even when they were miles apart

As if you were a mythical thing

they are both literal mythical things. she’s a sun summoner. he’s the last morozova amplifier.

Like you were a trophy or a champion ring / And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

mal says he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to deserve her!!

You know that my train could take you home / Anywhere else is hollow

they’re each other’s true north 🥺🥺

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark

this reminds me their last days together when they think mal is gonna die, how they would always get away from the others to be together and enjoy the little bit of time they have left

Show me the places where the others gave you scars

firstly: their matching scars!!!

secondly: they’re best friends!!! they’ve seen each other for through it all!

and thirdly: that scene when alina is taking care of mal’s wounds!!

Now this is an open-shut case / Guess I should've known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art

they really should’ve known from the beginning, but every single twist and turn lead them to each other.

smithereens - twenty one pilots

TELL me this is not the most malyen oretsev song in existence. you can’t.

You know, I've always been collected, calm and chill

he’s a good soldier!! reminds me of mal’s long lost letter 🥺

And you know, I never look for conflict for the thrill

(except in s&b when he’s hurting and being self-destructive)

But if I'm feeling someone stepping towards you / Can't describe just what I'm feeling

he would do anything to protect her!! and she would do the same!! when she was taken away, he would halfway through ravka to get back to her!! and he can’t even explain why he does it except for the fact that he wants to see her safe

and in one of the flashbacks, she protects him with a letter opener from an older boy!! soulmate energy!

For you, I'd go step to a dude much bigger than me / For you, I know, I would get messed up, weigh 153 / For you, I would get beat to smithereens

this man!!! is willing to go against the darkling!! the most powerful man in existence!!! to protect alina!! he was willing to die to give her the chance to win!!

You know, I'll be in the corner taking notes

specially in s&s, mal is pushed to the side while alina tries to help nikolai. and at first he doesn’t even mind it, because the only reason he’s there is for her (she’s his flag! she’s his nation!).

I got your six while you're working votes

he’s pushed to the side but he has her back while she tries to do all this political stuff and strategies!!

happy hunting ground - maisie peters (feat. griff)

Now interlaced / For worse or for better /My bird of a feather

they’ve been though the good and the bad together. also my BIRD of a feather? 👀👀👀

This could be your happy hunting ground / Everything you wanted, well, you've got it now / So don't take it for granted /I love you, don't take advantage

for me this is what alina thinks in the first book!! she’s been in love with him for a long time, and she thinks she could be the right person for him. but she’s also scared of getting hurt because she thinks her feelings are unrequited (I love you, don’t take advantage)

This could be your happy hunting ground / Everything we dreamed of is falling out the clouds / So careful where your boots tread /Oh, protect the love that you get

this part however!!!! reminds me of the epilogue, because they truly truly got everything they wanted. the ordinary life they always dreamed of. “protect the love that you get” seems like a warning because of how much they lost — protect the love that you get, because even if you lose everything, this love is the one that will hold you up.

And you know I'll be here / 'Cause we've got it all to lose /That's you included

with the war they literally have everything to lose, and they both think the other is gonna die at some point. “He watches her the way Harshaw watches fire. Like he’ll never have enough of her. Like he’s trying to capture what he can before she’s gone.” and then when they discover mal is the third amplifier, she realizes she’ll have to kill him in order to defeat the darkling.

Oh, so tie up the lace of your boots / Before we trip and forget / With every hope that we've ever had

them trying not to forget their meadow!! and where it all started 🥺🥺

And we got way too much to lose here, don't you think so? / It's too good, yeah, just to let it slip on by without a pause / And we've been stacking up the boxes trying to reach for what we wanted

like i said, they have each other to lose but all they ever wanted was an ordinary peaceful life 😭💔

Don't look down, oh, I know it was worth the cost

mal reassuring alina that his death (the cost) was worth saving everything!!!!

I'll have you and then a bit more

they can never get enough of each other 🥺🥺

—————————

soooo that was that I guess. hope you liked the songs I chose, you should definitely give them a listen if you haven’t!! and if you want more malina songs, I have a whole playlist on spotify <3

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/19ZrmZtob9KxBSVYsvqMGJ?si=RSerU24cT3SfDneku4mGdg&dl_branch=1

see you tomorrow with a surprise for the last day of malina week! 💕

#malinaweek #malinasource #malina #alina starkov #mal orestev #malyen oretsev #shadow and bone #sab #playlist #jessie mei li #archie renaux #taylor swift #twenty one pilots #maisie peters #malina appreciation week

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ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is · 3 years ago

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I’ve been trying to type myself for a long time but I get stuck every time, so I'm asking for help. The problem is, I have no idea how my brain actually works, even if I try to pay attention to it.

I have a hard time focusing, especially when doing things like driving. My mind goes to the stories I’m writing, generating ideas and playing them out. Or I’ll dream up a movie. After a while I’ll “snap back” and realize I’ve been driving for several minutes. Generally, my daydreams are about unlikely things (that I’ll never find the courage to do) or impossible fantasies.

MBTI as a concept is fascinating to me because I like finding where I fit in a system and analysing other people, but I often need real life examples to understand the functions. On the topic of analysing people: I constantly second-guess what people are saying to me. I hear things that weren’t said, and have been told by others that I’m way too sceptical about reading between the lines. I’ll go too far and hear stuff that’s really not there.

My memories are fragmented. I have a few key moments I remember well, but otherwise it’s just impressions and snapshots. I do like to be nostalgic though. I can’t stand when someone’s telling a story and focuses too much on details. I don’t care about the name of the person you’re talking about, I wanna hear the *story*.

This is going to make me sound like a psychopath but sometimes I hope something exciting or bad will happen, just for the thrill it brings. However, I’m generally rather hesitant in physical situations. I don’t like roller coasters and physical activity that much.

I care what other people think about me, I want them to *like* me. I don’t want to hurt or insult others. I want to be good at my job. I hate leaving a bad impression. At the same time, I wouldn’t care eating out alone, I’ve done it in the past and I don’t care. I wouldn’t think bad of other people for doing it, so I should be able to do it as well.

I identify with Fi but there are things that just don’t fit. I hold other people to standards. Example: If you being “authentic” means you’re being hard to work with, then you should learn to adapt a little. Not everything’s about you. Being able to compromise and be considerate is VERY important to me. If you don’t like being somewhere: leave, I won’t hold it against you. But *don’t* complain non-stop, it’s annoying. I’m very judgmental in my head but I rarely speak up about it. I want others to understand what I say. I don’t want them to think I said something that I didn’t mean. I think the individual is just as important as the group. The argument of “less people will die” for the trolley problem never worked for me. People are people. Death is still a terrible fate to the one person that it happens to. How can you measure life so easily?

When I read a book and I don’t like how a character I like acts, I’ll try to reason why they’re acting that way, in a sense justifying it until I’m satisfied and able to read on. I’ll literally make up a reason myself, because hating that character would prevent me from enjoying the book.

When I don’t feel like talking, I have no need to insert myself into a conversation. I can sit still and listen to others discussing.

I try to be organized and reliable, but I find it very hard. I lose things, forget things and procrastinate all the time. I improvise a lot in my job, even if I shouldn’t. My go-to way to solve a problem is to ask google. I hate getting stuck on details for too long. Let’s just get to the point, please.

My best guess is ISFJ, INFP, ISFP or INFJ. I guess I’m a feeler and an introvert, but I have no idea otherwise. I considered INTP but I care too much about morality when making decisions. I'm not going to lie about facts to make you feel good, but I'll be gentle unless I'm rly passionate about it. If you're an acquaintance, I'll lie and say I like your shirt, if you're my mother I'll let you know I don't like it.

I would say INFP for this: there's a need for moral consistency, even in places it doesn't necessarily require it (fiction), nostalgia and sentimentality but difficulty with organization (low Si); a general ability to distance yourself from what strangers think of you and differentiation based on the individual (high Fi); and a tendency to value the unsaid over the said (intuition).

I think your thoughts on authenticity fit a reasonably healthy Fi-dom; the issues you describe of compromise is one any reasonable Fi dom can achieve unless it's a compromise of fundamental morals; if it's just being difficult to work with for personal reasons it's something they can tone down and only is really an issue in unhealthy/immature or fairly young Fi users.

#mbti #infp

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thetomorrowshow · 4 years ago

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a jig in plaited time

Happy holidays, @under-the-blue-moonlight ! I really enjoyed writing up some intrulogical content for you (and this may actually get additional chapters lol, I’m really happy with it).

Here is your @sanderssidesgiftxchange gift!

ships: Intrulogical, background Royality

cw: anxiety, intrusive thoughts, panic attack, mannequins, mentions of food

Why was Remus at the mall?

That was a simple question, with a just as simple answer. He was at the mall for a suit and tie, one he needed for his brother's wedding. It needed to be “salmon” or whatever, with a blue tie.

A much less simple answer was to the next question.

Why was Remus at the mall on Black Friday?

In all honesty, Remus hadn't known about Black Friday until he arrived. He hadn't really had a good feeling about it on the way here, but he'd paid no mind to his instincts. He didn't often have a good feeling about anything. There had been far too many cars for this time of morning on a weekday. What had really tipped him off, though, was the huge sign in the window of Nordstrom's.

'BLACK FRIDAY SALE!'

Even at that point he wasn't entirely sure what that meant. It became far more clear when he entered the building to find it absolutely packed. Well, there could be an upside to this. Maybe there would be a sale on the suit he needed.

Remus hadn't been this close to someone since he was in the womb, and he could not say that he was very comfortable with it. Remus didn't care much for close spaces and touching people, he hadn't since middle school. It just made him feel sort of icky.

As soon as possible, he ducked out of Nordstrom's, only to find that the rest of the mall was in a similar condition. JC Penney actually looked worse. Normally when Remus was feeling overwhelmed, he'd sidle into Hot Topic or somewhere else with obnoxiously loud music. By drowning his feelings in the noise, he generally was able to recollect himself. The mall was certainly loud, but not in a good way at all. Even if he tried to find someplace with music, he wouldn't be able to enjoy it with all these people.

Remus was stressed. But he needed this suit, seeing as his brother's wedding was literally tomorrow. Why did he leave it this late? Well, Remus knew he was nothing if not a master procrastinator. He also knew he couldn’t be the only one.

Remus waded his way through the crowd to a relatively people-free corner and wiggled his phone out of the pockets of his definitely too-small jeans (not that he'd admit they were too small out loud—his brother had told him they were on every occasion he wore them) and texted the wedding group chat.

Remus: hey im at the mall. anything yall need?

Robro: Why are you at the mall on black friday?

Patty-Cake: ooh can you get me a pair of sunglasses? Mine broke last week

Remus: sure. stuff for wedding?

Robro: idk. Let me ask mom

Remus shoved his phone back in his pocket, then extracted it again as it buzzed a moment later.

Robro: Yeah mom says get some classy decor or something

Ant: I don't think remus knows what classy means

Remus: shut up i got this

Toby: wait what's going on? It's like 10am why are you all awake

Robro: idk if you knew this tobes but I'm getting married tomorrow

Toby: shut up man

Ant: even Remy knows

Sleep: even i know loser

Remus: toby do u need help

Toby: I hate it heeere

Patty-Cake: Aw Toby that isn't very nice! And good morning everyone!

Robro: hello sunshine!! <3

Sleep: i need you both to not start that

Remus: get a room dorks

Okay, classy decor. Sunglasses for the groom. Pink suit. Blue tie. Probably some dress shoes. A wedding present. Dress socks too. Did Remus need to have a tie pin? He'd ask later. Napkins, definitely. No one ever had enough napkins at events. Did he need to have a pocket handkerchief?

Remus checked the list of what his suit needed that Roman had sent him a month or two ago. Yes, a blue pocket square. This was a lot.

Remus swallowed back his sudden panic and took a few deep breaths, jamming his still-buzzing phone back into his pocket. He could do this. Sunglasses first, there was a Sunglasses Hut within eyesight. All he had to do was fight through the crowd.

He reached the kiosk with few incidents and surveyed the sleek glasses for five minutes before seeing a pair that were shaped like a cartoon frog. Patton would love those. And if he didn't, then Remus just got a neat pair of sunglasses! He purchased the glasses and moved on to the next place to conquer.

By the time Remus was back at Nordstrom's, he was completely out of energy. Nordstrom's had two levels, and so much stuff, and so many people. He still had to get the suit and socks, and the wedding present. Maybe it seemed like he hadn't done much, but he had actually done a lot, considering how busy the mall was. He'd barely escaped a fistfight outside of the electronics store. The fact that he'd been able to get shoes and so-called 'classy decor' and napkins? Remus was pretty proud, all things considered.

Nordstrom's was even busier than when he left, which was certainly distressing. Remus couldn't even see any clothes. Was that a mannequin or a really tall lady? Was that the escalator, or a bunch of people climbing on top of each other?

What if I set off a bomb right here? Would the whole tower fall down, the ones on top not actually hurt until they hit the ground?

Remus shook off the intrusive thought. This was getting bad. It was already almost one—that meant that not only was he stressed, but he was getting hungry. His thoughts would continue to devolve until he got out of here and got some food.

I could eat that man! That would certainly clear the place out, and I'm sure he's delicious!

Remus groaned. He needed to sit down, but there were no seats free anywhere. He hefted his bags higher on his shoulders and forged on. He had to get this suit, or else the wedding would be ruined. The man in question (who was fairly attractive) bumped him, and Remus had to close his eyes to fight his brain. This was getting out of hand.

There was a little square cut out in the wall where a headless mannequin stood, no doubt showing off the latest in boys' fashion. Remus ducked between its legs and pushed his back up against the wall, knees drawn up close to his chest. He pulled out his phone with some difficulty.

Remus: hey so ro does my suit need a tie pin

Robro: Don't worry abt it, mom got matching tie pins for everyone

Sleep: ree babes are you buying ur suit now?

Remus: shut up

Sleep: on black friday?

Remus: no

Ant: did you even know it was black friday

Remus: ...

Toby: wait the wedding is tmrrw

Robro: Believe me tobias I'm aware

Remus: yah ik im not buying the whole suit just shoes

Robro: Good I almost had a heart attack, you almost certainly wouldn't be able to find one

Now truly panicking, Remus dropped his phone onto his stomach and buried his fists in his hair. How was he supposed to find a salmon suit and a blue tie, as well as nice socks? Plus a wedding present? Especially in this crowd, when he had no clue where to even look for a suit. And he still had to go to the party tonight, then the wedding tomorrow, and it was so loud. Everyone was yelling over each other, and Remus couldn't even hear his own thoughts—except the bad ones. Why did he have to put this off so long? He needed out, he wasn't going to be able to get any of the stuff, he was going to ruin the wedding, like he ruined everything—

“Hello, may I help you?”

Remus looked up—at least, as up as he could look, with a mannequin just above him—to see a bespectacled store clerk looking down at him. 'Logan', his nametag read.

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it again before a string of curses could come out. He really wasn't doing well. There was just too much, too much everything.

“Is there anything I can help you find?” Logan asked, his voice rumbling a bit—or maybe it was the thunder of people in the shop. Whatever it was, it made Remus's stomach drop a little.

“Um, uh, pink!” If Remus had any shame, he would have slapped his own face. As it was, he started trying to pantomime a suit while stuck in a tiny hollow in the wall. Logan watched kindly, his face not betraying the disgust he was probably feeling.

“Pink what? Shirt?” Logan guessed. Remus shook his head, running his hands down his legs. Pants too, pants too.

“Pink . . . coat? Shorts? Pants?”

Remus traced back over his arms, almost crying. Here he was, bothering this poor clerk with his stupid non-verbal self.

“A pink suit?”

Remus jumped for joy, hitting his head on the crotch of the mannequin, instantly shuddering at the thoughts that flooded into his head. Logan held out a hand, and Remus took it, allowing himself to be pulled out of the wall.

“I can direct you to the suit section, right this way.”

Remus let himself be led by Logan, who occasionally looked back to make sure he was still there. The man had a curly mop of dark hair, and was slightly shorter than he was—not that it was a problem. Or anything important. Remus wasn't looking for a date. He was inconveniencing a store clerk on Black Friday. Although, he did need a plus one for the wedding. . . .

No, it was out of the question. He didn't even know this man. Roman would be upset if he ruined the wedding even more by showing up with some rando who would probably jump in the wedding cake or spill food all over the nice tablecloths or turn out to be really ugly because he was just wearing a mask made of someone else's face.

“Here is where the suits are. Do you need anything else?”

Remus stared at him, his mouth opening and shutting a few times. He wanted to say something stupid, like yeah, I need those eyes in my life, or something far more obscene, but he was okay. He could do this. He could survive peopling.

Logan gave him a sympathetic smile. “I can help you find the right suit, if that's what you require.”

Before he could stop himself, Remus was nodding. He let Logan pull him past a crying couple and two arguing families to a rack of suit coats that were red.

“Will these suffice?” the clerk asked, gesturing at them. Remus frowned. They weren't pink. Was the man messing with him? Seeing his look, Logan checked the tag and groaned. “Apologies, I'm colorblind. I could have sworn these were pink. Hopefully the last customer who I pointed this way was not upset.”

That was a joke, right? Remus almost laughed, but knew if he did he would start crying. Logan led him through the crowd with seemingly unending patience, occasionally smiling gently at him. Remus felt his heartrate spike every time one of those smiles was sent his way, but for a reason completely unrelated to the overpowering noise and crowd.

Logan found him a probably very nice pink suit—Remus wasn't really looking at it. Then Logan was kind enough to let him into an employee restroom to try it on, seeing as the dressing rooms had a line that ran all the way to the front doors. It fit nicely, tight (though not as tight as his jeans) and sleek, accompanied with a blue tie that Logan had found while he was changing.

“That looks very sharp on you, sir,” Logan informed him, as Remus blushed.

“Remus,” he blurted out. Logan raised his eyebrows.

“After the character in Roman mythology?” asked Logan, his tone betraying something like excitement. Remus nodded, then looked down at the tie.

“We—didn't look at—at ties yet,” he stammered, trying to make his voice work. “Where—?”

“Ah, it happens to be one of mine,” Logan said. For the first time, he looked a little uncomfortable. “I keep one in my locker for emergencies, and I thought it would look nice on—it would look nice. With the suit.”

Remus finally found the courage to smile back. “Thanks, Specs. Uh, sorry for taking up so much of your time. I'll just buy this, it's dope.”

“Oh no, I do not at all mind assisting you,” Logan said quickly. “At least I don't have to deal with . . . whatever is going on.”

“You could assist me by being my date!”

Logan stared.

Remus clapped a hand over his mouth.

“. . . What?”

“Nothing, nothing nothing,” said Remus. “I just—um—you need to get your tie back right? And I—if you let me, of course—I could just wear it, save money and all that, and you could come and then take it home so that I don't steal it or whatever?” He scrunched his eyes up, turning away so as to catch no sight of Logan rejecting him. Why did he have to say that? The noise pressed down on him again; despite still being in the staff restroom, it was almost too loud to bear.

“Wear it . . . where?”

Remus would already be curled up on the floor were it not for the very un-purchased suit he was currently wearing. “Um, my brother's wedding tomorrow?” he chanced, hands clenched over his eyes.

The utter disbelief in Logan's voice was clear as a bell. “You are buying a suit . . . for a wedding . . . that is tomorrow. On Black Friday, of all days.”

Tears choked Remus's throat. “Y-yeah, I'm really bad at planning.” Why was he even asking this cute clerk out anyway? Just because Roman kept teasing him for not having a date to the wedding? Or did he actually have a crush on Logan?

He searched his feelings briefly, and found almost instantly that he for sure had a crush. Okay, that was a lot to deal with right now. They had just met! It was just . . . the way he smiled at him, the way he didn't abandon him even though he'd been having a panic attack for about an hour at this point, how gentle and kind he was. Not to mention how put-together he was. And his hair? That was just hot.

Now though, just seconds after realizing he liked Logan, the guy was going to reject him because he had run his stupid mouth. Remus cringed. The silence had gone on for far too long.

“Well, I expect you to pick me up an hour before the event begins. I do not currently have my own means of transportation. You are quite fortunate that I do not work tomorrow.”

Wait.

What?

“You—you really—?” Remus's voice broke. He jumped as Logan lay a warm hand over his own, which were still pressed into his eyes.

“Of course,” Logan said kindly. “I know very little about you, but I rather feel that—and no offense meant—you will be distressed at such a large event as a wedding. I would love to continue to assist you.” He coughed, then added, “Also, the streak in your hair is very attractive.”

Remus almost sighed in relief. This was okay. He let Logan pull his hands away from his face, then ran a sleeve over his eyes and nose. Logan froze.

“Well, now you have to buy that suit,” Logan said. As an aside, he muttered, “At least it looks good on you.”

“Aw, Lo, you think I look hot?” Remus asked shakily, managing a smile. “What about my jeans? Think I look good in tight clothes?”

Logan turned away, unfortunately letting go of Remus's hands, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Are you always this insufferable?”

Remus slung an arm around his shoulder. “Yep! And you're stuck with me for a whole date!”

Logan pushed his glasses up his nose. “If it doesn't work out, we can just pretend we never met, if you like. We will both move on with our lives. There is no obligation that comes with this date, we are both free to back out at any time.”

Remus quickly retracted his arm from Logan's shoulder, then nodded. That made sense. He did like Logan, and he didn't want to upset him. Shameless flirting was definitely on the table, though.

“When's your lunch break?” Remus asked, as casually as possible. Logan snorted.

“I only have a twenty minute lunch today, they don't want me to leave them without as much help as possible.” Logan went to open the door and exit the restroom, then glanced back. “One o'clock. I plan on getting a sandwich at the Subway in the hall outside of the store. It would be wonderful if someone would wait in line for me and order me an Italian BMT and a bag of potato chips, so that I am not late in returning.”

Remus grinned. Easy-peasy, and just like that he would get to spend some time with Logan before the wedding.

Logan made to leave, but Remus grabbed his arm. “One sec, hot stuff,” he said, butterflies racing through his stomach at Logan's blush, “not to bother you any more or anything, but do you have any suggestions for a wedding present?”

The utter disbelief on Logan's face completely wiped out any blush that had been there. “The wedding is tomorrow, Remus.”

Remus's breath caught. Logan said his name. It sounded so beautiful coming from him. If a heavenly chorus had been singing around him at that moment, it would have been dull compared to Logan saying his name.

Logan sighed. “Of course I have some ideas. Do you need anything else?”

Remus pulled himself together, then grabbed his phone from the pile of his clothes on the floor. He checked the list, ignoring the notifications from the group chat.

“Uh, yeah. A pocket square to match the tie, and some nice socks.”

“That's doable. Tell me about your brother and his partner while we find those items. Perhaps you and I can put together an ideal gift.” Logan stepped out of the restroom to give Remus privacy while he changed back into his clothes. Remus shucked the suit off as quickly as possible. All the intense stimulation had blurred into the background, Logan being the only buzz he needed to keep going.

Remus didn't often have a good feeling about anything, but this? Oh yeah, there was definitely something good here.

#sanders sides gift exchange #sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sides #ts #remus sanders #ts remus #logan sanders #ts logan #sanders sides fic #remus is a disaster gay #he also has social anxiety which influences his intrusive thoughts #i wrote a couple of my own habits/mannerisms into him #like the fact that when he gets really anxious he plays loud music to drown it out!#it's such a calming thing that i rarely see people write about #and it feels sort of weird that he gets anxious when the surroundings are too loud #when he uses loud music to calm down #but that's just literally me #projection city: population me #also ash i sent you an ask forever ago trying to sound out if you wanted an au or canon-type fic #you said au!!#so here we are #if i end up writing more it'll probably be the wedding from logan's pov #anyway i hope this is something like what you wanted!#happiest of holidays to you!#and anyone else reading!#much love -mas

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kaistarus · 5 years ago

Text

Will You Social Distance With Me?

Pairing: Bakugou X Reader

Words: 2K

Summary: Quarantine and social distancing is hard, especially when you’re in high school and one of the only nights you look forward to is cancelled. You’ve given up any hope, but... maybe prom night can still be saved

Notes: This is for all you people that have gotten anything cancelled because of the coronavirus. My college graduation was cancelled, so we’re in this hell hole together :(

“I’m literally dying,” Mina’s face took up a majority your laptop screen as she whined dramatically. Her pink locks were pulled back by a silky hairband for the mudmask smeared across her face. Even in a global pandemic, skin care was her priority. “I’m losing my mind.”

“Wrong usage of literally.” Bakugou popped up front-and-center. He chewed a mechanical pencil as he focused on something off screen, likely doing the assigned online homework you were pretending didn’t exist.

“Okay, fun police.” You smirked. He sneered at his monitor and even though he couldn’t target the look, you knew it was for you.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.” Mina waved him off, falling back into her sea of fluffy pillows. “I haven’t had face-to-face interactions with anyone not my family in weeks. I’ll go insane before quarantine is over.”

“You should buy animal crossing,” Kirishima’s smiling face filled your screen as he held up a Nintendo switch. “I’ve never avoided my problems so easily.”

“Your grades are shit.” Bakugou said.

“Were they good before?” You tilted your head, looking at Kirishima’s videochat box as he focused at his lap where you assumed his Switch laid.

“Absolutely not,” Kirishima smirked. “But now I have Crimson Riot Land to disassociate on.” You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but your interest had been peaked.

“Hey, where’s Kami?” Mina made a show of tapping her wrist. “He’s late.”

Which was weird. Kaminari was either scheduling their videochats or the first one in the call whining when someone was 30 seconds late. That’s what happens when you’re the most extroverted person in a group during a global pandemic.

“He’s on a date with that Tinder boy.” Sero stated as if it was common knowledge. He laid flat on his stomach toward his laptop surrounded by homework he’d held off till last minute. You tried desperately to forget about the mound of your own homework lying nearby.

Your jaw went slack in surprise and Mina exaggeratedly gasped. Even Bakugou paused writing and looked up at the screen confused.

“Where? Why?” Mina gripped her laptop monitor and began shaking it aggressively. “How?”

“McDonalds parking lot. He’s trying to make up for Prom getting cancelled.” Sero tapped his temple with his pencil’s eraser as he thought. “They’re staying in their cars with their windows cracked to avoid the virus.”

“That’s… romantic?” You said uncertainly.

“It’s fucking stupid.” Bakugou snorted, leaning against his hand. You stuck your tongue out and he made a mocking face.

“I forgot tonight was supposed to be Prom night.” Kirishima leaned back on his hands thoughtfully. You wished you could say the same. You looked over to the calendar hanging to your left beside your bed that had today’s date circled in red sharpie.

“How could Prom King forget?” Sero smirked, placing one of his books atop his head and leaning into crossed arms. Clearly, he’d given up hopes of productivity.

“I wouldn’t have won.”

“Literally everyone loves you Kiri. You were the only person people wanted to vote for.” You said. An unconvinced smile spread across his face and your heart dropped that he didn’t get to experience that love or recognition. He really deserved that moment.

“I’m just pissed I spent hundreds of dollars on a dress I don’t even get to wear.” Mina crossed her arms. “I would’ve looked so damn good.”

You looked at your own closet where your dress hung uselessly in its plastic store-bought bag to never be touched. You were sure there was someone you could give it to who would make some use of it in the future, but that just wasn’t the same.

“Who fucking cares. It’s all a waste of money,” Bakugou said uninterested.

“It’s not a waste.” You said offended, but he just rolled his eyes at you.

You knew Bakugou felt that way, but it still hurt hearing him say it. Perhaps it was because you had the pathetic fantasy that you could have asked him to go and he’d have said yes. Or because you picked out a crimson red dress specifically because you knew that was his favorite color. Or maybe even it was because you’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year history class and filled your head that this night would’ve been the night everything changed.

It didn’t matter anymore. The night was gone, and so were your chances with Bakugou. You’d just have to accept things for how they are. Your friendship wasn’t bad after all. You’d take late night videochats over no Bakugou any day.

“It’s a monumental moment of our high school careers!” Mina threw her hands up. “We go through four years of hell for one night of fun and the chance at a coming of age romance scene.”

“That’s stupid.” Bakugou stated. “Who honestly cares about that shit?”

You furrowed your brow. It was almost too easy to get worked up when you were talking at your laptop. That and being cooped up in your house for weeks probably made your emotions ten times stronger than usual. “Maybe I do.”

He blinked confused. “What?”

“Maybe I was hoping for a stupid teenage promposal and awkward slow dancing and cute stupid lovey confessions at a waste of fucking money dance.”

Mina looked all too amused at Bakugou’s stunned expression. Sero’s eyes were flickering around his screen while Kirishima’s head was directly downward to avoid confrontation. You felt your face reddening as the seconds passed.

“I didn’t… you aren’t…” Bakugou furrowed his brow and looked more and more stoic as moments passed. You quickly began regretting your comment. Just because you had been looking forward to prom doesn’t mean you had to force your excitement on to others.

“Bakugou… I didn’t mean to—”

“I gotta go.” He logged off the chat and you felt your stomach knot. You hadn’t meant to offend him. You shouldn’t have gotten upset that he ruined your stupid fantasies.

“I should apologize.” You muttered.

“Don’t bother,” Mina waved your comment off. “He’ll walk it off. Let’s watch a Netflix movie.”

The boys agreed and you exited the chat to pull Netflix up in a separate tab. Although the others were vocal throughout whatever movie Mina and Sero had argued over, you were absentmindedly zoning out at the dress hanging in the corner of your room. You really hoped you hadn’t ruined your friendship with Bakugou over something as stupid as a school dance. Even if you had been looking forward to it for such a long time, it wasn’t fair to take out your frustrations on him.

When the movie ended you contributed as little as you could their discussion about what you’d watched and helped schedule the next big online hangout that weekend. When everyone logged out you took a deep breath and stared at the mound of texts and worksheets lying on the nightstand beside you. Reluctantly, you realized it was probably time you stopped avoiding the coursework you’d been assigned.

Thankfully, the moment you opened your Algebra text your phone vibrated on the mattress beside you. A sign that you were meant to procrastinate work one night longer. You slammed the book shut happily and grabbed your phone.

Bakagou: Look out your window

You read the message over several times before wrapping yourself in your comforter and crawling out of bed to your second-story window. When you pulled back the curtain to peer through the glass your jaw went slack, and your phone fell from your limp hand.

Beneath your window was Bakugou, standing in your yard holding a poster with ‘PROM’ written in black sharpie in one hand and a handful off daisies in the other, clumps of dirt still attached to the roots. He was dressed in a charcoal button-up and dark slacks, and his hair that had been a wild mess just hours ago was now tame. You stared confused for several long moments before hurriedly undoing the windows lock and pushing it open.

“What are you doing?” You shouted.

Even from the second story you could see his face turning red as he answered. “The fuck does it look like I’m asking you to prom!” He waved the half-assed poster around as if you somehow missed it.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t fight the grin taking over your face. “But we don’t have prom.”

“It’s supposed to be symbolic.” His grip on the poster tightened to the point you could see it crinkling near his hand.

“I thought Prom was a waste of time?” You leaned lazily into the palm of your hand as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“It is, but apparently it matters to you so…” His scrunched up his nose and kicked at the ground. “Are you going with me or not?”

You started to chuckle. “Yes. Obviously, I’ll go with you.”

He looked almost relieved at your answer. “Thank fuck.”

You smiled fondly at Bakugou who stretched his arms above his head before a frown overtook your face. “This is so stupid.”

His eyes widened briefly. “Well, I didn’t have a lot of fucking time. I know the poster is ass and the flowers are from my yard, but it’s not like I can give them to you anyway so—”

“No.” You waved your arms frantically in front of you. “No, you’re amazing.” You clarified and a small smile appeared on his face causing your heartrate to quicken. “I’m mean this.” You gestured toward the sky. “It just wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

“How was it supposed to go?”

You felt your face flush. You stumbled over your words before deciding that he drove all the way here and if that wasn’t a sign you were meant to have a fairy tale prom night you didn’t know what was. “Well, first off you wouldn’t have to stay in my yard like this.”

“That does make it a little difficult.”

You nodded your head. “I’d be wearing my way too expensive dress. We’d get to take awkward photos and slow dance together and…” It was taking all of you not to turn away from his intense gaze. You urged yourself to continue. To finally say what’s been on your heart for years. “I’d probably tell you that I’ve been stupidly in love with you since Freshman year.”

You gripped the windowsill tightly to keep your nerves to a minimum, but the cocky smirk Bakugou gave you did bad things for your health.

“If we weren’t in a pandemic...” You added. “That’s probably how it could have theoretically happened.”

He nodded his head and chuckled. “And, theoretically, I’d probably respond by saying something stupid like I’ve liked you for a while too. Maybe I’d try kissing you if you’d let me.”

You smiled so wide your cheeks began hurting. “Well, hypothetically speaking, if that had happened, I probably would’ve let you.”

“Yeah?” Bakugou smirked.

You nodded.

You both smiled at each other and Bakugou ran a hand through his hair. You’d give anything to sprint downstairs and out your front door to tackle this boy in a hug right now. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to kiss him and the fact that you couldn’t was driving you insane.

“Well, theoretically, if I were to ask you on a date. What would your answer be?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow in your direction.

“I’d say McDonald’s parking lot next Monday?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going on a date at a McDonald’s parking lot.”

You pushed out your lips in a pout and crossed your arms. “No fun.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously it’s a yes.” You rolled your eyes. How could he ever think you’d say no. Especially after tonight. “I’m just upset it’ll take so long.”

“We talk every day.”

“Not the same.”

He rolled his eyes, but a smile dusted his lips. “I waited this long. What’s a little quarantine gonna do?”

You weren’t sure your face could get any redder, but after that comment you were sure you had invented a new shade. He left that night resting a bouquet of garden flowers in your yard and a promise to see you in the distant future. You watched him drive off down your street, staring long after his car had disappeared. You rested your head against the windowsill, wrapped your blankets tightly around yourself, and continued to smile until the muscles in your cheeks ached.

Somehow, your prom night turned out better than you could have imagined.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #bakugou imagine #bakusquad #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #sero hanta #mha #quarantine au

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hold-my-hand-kuroo · 5 years ago

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tendou as my favorite naruto!! openings-

it’s midnight where i am right now, so a big hbd to one of my favorite nerds!! here’s something quick and dumb that i did while i’m still functioning,,,this is what he would’ve wanted, i’m sure of it.

also before someone @’s me, i have more than four favorite naruto openings, but i just don’t have the time to write them all- (i am a “lovers” supremacist though).

pairing: tendou satori x reader

i. “We’ve pretended to forget the things we held dear, so we can just laugh and say it’s nothing.”

Tendou can’t say that quitting volleyball after high school was a bad idea. No longer does he have to ache throughout his legs and arms, and no longer does he have to practice inside a stuffy gym until the sun was gone. He can finally rest on the weekends or take time to work on assignments before midnight. It’s liberating and less stressful on his part. Plus, even if he slightly missed volleyball from time to time, he could just watch one of Ushijima’s games during his now-open weekends. For sure, Tendou can’t say that he regrets leaving the sport.

But he also can’t say that he doesn’t miss his paradise.

His favorite spot at university is the secluded spot in the back, hidden away from most students. It’s where you find him during long breaks in between classes or during lunch, and it’s where you sit under the shade of a tall tree, watching Tendou as he bounces the volleyball back and forth against the brick wall. The sound is soft, gentle, and steady, and it helps you concentrate on your work. Sometimes, after the long, grueling hours of an all-nighter, you find the noise to be lulling, almost hypnotic. It wasn’t hard for you to nod off.

Today is no exception. Procrastinating and leaving your final papers to the night before wasn’t your best idea, and after what seemed to be the strangest period of limbo, drifting between dozing off and waking up, you found yourself finally submitting and missing your entire night’s worth of sleep. You take your lunch break as an opportunity to finally get some rest, and when you round the corner, Tendou’s already there. He’s humming a tune, fingers pressing against the white ball. Hearing your footsteps, he turns and gives you a wide smile. Even then, he doesn’t stop tossing the ball.

“You look terrible,” he comments, stifling his laughter. You groan, settling against the wood of the tree but make no effort to respond. Tendou changes his song, picking a melody that is more calming while continuing to play. The gentle breeze sets you into a deep slumber with the redhead acting as your lullaby.

When you wake up, you find yourself leaning against his shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and then close almost immediately at the sudden intrusion of sunlight. Tendou chuckles from beside you, placing his hand over your closed lids and whistling to himself. Feeling around for his other hand, you trace your fingertips over his own, lingering touches dancing on his skin. You can tell that he’s in a good mood based on the song he’s humming. It was either that or the kiss he places on your cheek after letting you open your eyes.

“Satori?” you murmur, voice still tinged with drowsiness. He pauses his singing, signaling you to finish your thought. “Why aren’t you in the volleyball club?”

“Babe, are you getting sick of me? Or do you just hate me?” he laughs. “I’d run out of time to breathe, let alone see you on the regular.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“Are you really asking me if I miss being bruised all over and struggling to meet deadlines?” He laughs again and pokes your face with a teasing glint in his eye. “Y/N, I’m hurt!”

“You seem to like it a lot considering that you’re literally playing on your own every day.” You put extra emphasis on the last two words and give him a knowing look. Tendou just shakes his head.

“Nah. I only played in high school because joining a club was required. I don’t really care about it now.” His response is simple, less wordy than his usual elaborations, so you let the topic rest. Closing your eyes again, you take part in the humming. The melodies, completely different, clash like day and night, and it makes both of you laugh.

Tendou watches as you fall back to sleep, eyes filled with fondness. In truth, maybe Tendou misses his volleyball club a little bit. His paradise. Not the sport itself per se, but the people around him. It was hard finding classmates that didn’t find him utterly repulsive, so he wasn’t surprised that he fit well into a team that was filled with nothing but the most eccentric people he has ever met. Ushijima and his love affair with volleyball and Semi with his drive to risk it all were standouts, but he supposes that there were others too. Yeah, he misses them more than he’d like to admit, and he misses spending all his waking hours with them. Just a little.

“You stopped humming.” It’s more of a comment on your part rather a complaint, but you can tell by his jolt that you had unintentionally snapped him out of his deep thoughts. “There’s nothing wrong with missing high school, you know?”

“No, it’s okay.” He lies through his teeth, and you’re aware, but you decide to stay quiet.

ii. “I will never let go of your hand. Tell me what is on your mind.”

Tendou works hard because he knows he’s not enough. Because he feels undeserving.

When you waltzed into his life, he hardly had any time to prepare. It’s the first time someone has ever liked him back, and he’s still surprised to this day. Tendou’s not sure which qualities exactly that have caught your interest, but he’s almost 100% sure that your taste is terrible. There isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t think that the person holding your hand on the street could be someone so much more attractive, so much more appealing. Someone who didn’t make kids hide whenever they saw him or someone who could embrace you and say with full confidence that you deserved each other. You don’t need someone that constantly makes you worry. You definitely don’t need a guy like him.

He knows your entire schedule and pays special attention to your free periods so that he can visit you. His head is now space for him to keep notes on every little thing about you from your pet peeves to your favorite snacks. It’s counterintuitive for sure, thinking that he’s not worth your time but also desperately trying to keep a hold of you. It’s paradoxical, he knows, but he’s stuck in a limbo of wishing you the very best while also craving your touch and affection at any moment given in time. It’s selfish, and he finds himself wondering if the title of ‘Monster’ is fitting after all.

“Are you sure you’re okay like this?” he asks nervously one Saturday with you sitting by his side. You look at him curiously, setting your book down.

“What do you mean?” His eyes become shifty, looking away.

“I mean, aren’t you bored just reading manga at my house?” he asks, chuckling nervously. “We could go to that restaurant you wanted to go to instead-“

“We’re always doing the things I want though, Satori,” you whine. “That’s why today’s date is something you like. You’ve been wanting to catch up with this series for a while now, right?”

“Yeah, but-,” he tries to protest, frowning, but you just shake your head, silencing him. You don’t know much about the series, but you whenever you see Tendou’s eyes glitter at something particularly cool that his favorite characters did, your heart becomes warm. It’s incredibly endearing, and you definitely want to spend all day just watching him pursue his interests instead of fussing over you. You want to know more about his hobbies, his likes, and dislikes, but he’s oddly reserved about those topics.

“Which character is your favorite?” You ask in hopes of having Tendou open up and maybe give you a passionate rant, a sight you’ve been wanting to see for a while now. Nudging at his lanky arm, you crawl under, placing yourself in his lap. He immediately sets the volume down and pulls you into a tight embrace, balancing his chin on top of your head. You’re not upset about it, but you’re just a little disappointed. You were hoping that he’d keep reading.

“Do you know any of the characters?” he responds teasingly. You shake your head and pick up the book. “I can start from the beginning if you want-“

“No, no, no! Keep reading.” You’re urging him to continue, practically holding the pages over your head so that he can see them. Tendou laughs, shifts his chin to your shoulder, and complies, taking hold of the book once again. You’re not sure if he’s actually paying attention to the storyline since he keeps peppering you with kisses every few pages or so, but this is a good start. “What’s going on?”

“Curious, are we?” He clears his throat and points to one of the characters. “You see this guy over here? He’s the villain. My favorite, since you asked.”

“Is he…your type?”

“You’re my type,” Tendou coos, stifling another fit of laughter. He continues describing the plot, however, going through what has developed since volume one, each pivotal character, his favorite moments, and unbelievably deep analysis on symbols and events. He’s usually a chatty person, but you’ve never seen him rave over something so personal to who he is as a person. It wasn’t like when he would talk endlessly about something funny that happened or something he saw. Rather, his glow and animated gestures, his sense of comfort, and his lack of restraint keep you mesmerized, and it’s then that you realize that Tendou rarely talks about his hobbies in front of you. You wish he would.

“This is nice,” you murmur, returning a kiss onto his cheek. He immediately stiffens, and you’re a little bit startled. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry for rambling,” he says rather on edge. He quickly closes the manga, arms returning to wrap around your body. “It was boring listening to me just talk about-“

“I thought it was cute though.” You sigh and turn around to face him. Pressing your nose to his, your lips are just barely a few millimeters apart from his. “I could listen to you talk about this all day, Satori.”

Tendou’s not sure if it’s the kiss that you press on his lips that intoxicates him or if it’s the fact that you smell like his shampoo, but for a moment, he feels himself wondering if it’d be okay to let you in onto his hobbies, his likes, his dislikes, and everything that he tries so hard to keep from you in fear of driving you away. Just for a second, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’d be fine for him to open up.

iii. “You cried just now like a sobbing child. Even if the future becomes invisible, I will protect you.”

An angel. That’s what Tendou thinks you are when you let him rest his head on your chest and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer into your comforting warmth. He’s calmed by the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft beating of your heart. The way your fingers rake through his hair, the way your humming fills the emptiness, you’re his safe haven, his sanctuary. His new paradise. He likes how you just seem to know what’s wrong, because he hates to complain, especially to you. He would much rather prefer making you laugh with a funny joke or story, but for now, he lets you play with his hair and caress his back.

You’re humming the song that he often sings for you when you’re feeling down. While you’re not exactly the perfect vocalist, straining at some high parts, you wonder if it helps Tendou at all, even if minimally. He cries quietly, and you wonder if it’s because he’s spent years being sad alone. The thought pains your heart, so instead, you take his palm and place it against your lips, quietly whispering praise. Things about him being more than enough and things that you wonder if he’d laugh at, you pour your sincerity into it all. You know he’ll tell you when he’s ready, so you find a way to pass the time.

“Let’s take a bath, Satori,” you mumble into his hair, waiting to see if he’s willing to get off of you. His movement is slow, reluctant, but you do feel him nodding, getting off of you with his head hung low. He doesn’t mean to be so down, so annoying, and he doesn’t hold it against you if you get irritated. But you don’t, and he feels like he’s the luckiest man in the world. “I’ll wash your hair for you. Come on.”

He holds your hand all the way to the bathroom, refusing to lose contact from the warmth of your skin. Even when the two of you are getting undressed, he’s quickly back to leaning into you in the tub. It’s a little bit difficult since his limbs are so long and lanky, but with a bit of curling up on Tendou’s part, you make enough space for yourself. He practically sinks into your fingers rubbing through his scalp, and you see his shoulders begin to lose their tension. You hum, satisfied, and work the soap around his body, helping him wash up. The smile that spreads across your face when he starts humming back is wide. You feel a little bit dumb, but you’re just so relieved that Tendou’s energy is finally back. The giggles that spill from your lips as he splashes about practically pour out from your pretty lips that Tendou wants to kiss so, so badly, but he decides to wait for a more comfortable position.

He hates to admit it, but he loves the feeling of being pampered. Granted, he was always more of a giver, but he supposes that being on the receiving side of things isn’t as bad as he initially thought, especially when you take the towel to rub against his hair and sit him down on the couch with hairdryer in hand.

“My hair is gonna get all puffy if you use that,” is the first complete sentence that leaves his mouth after returning home that night. He lacks his usual energy, but you don’t blame him. Rather, his soft chuckle sends your own spirits flying. “I’ll look ridiculous.”

“Really?” you muse, plugging in the device despite his protests. “I think you’ll be cute, all fluffy and stuff.”

“Why don’t you get a pet or something instead then?”

“Wouldn’t you get jealous if I paid too much attention to a cat over you?”

He pretends to think hard, then nods his head rapidly. You giggle again, maneuvering the hairdryer around his head. The machine is a little loud, but you can hear Tendou back to his usual humming, moving his body around ever so slightly just to make your task a lot harder than it was supposed to be. You watch as he swings left and then right with a certain mischievousness about him, twiddling with his fingers and then casually flipping on the television to his favorite channel. You’re not sure if he actually likes the show that’s being broadcasted or just the BGM, as he never really watched it and would much rather prefer to listen to the audio only while doing something else.

“Babe, can this be our song,” he jokes before going back to sing the opening lyrics to the children’s show.

“Satori, I don’t even know this show,” you reply, trying to sound exasperated as possible. He knows you’re pretending though and raises a curious brow. Then, he breaks into a grin. “I don’t have a good feeling about this-“

“What do you want to watch then?” His question is abrupt, but his eyes glint impishly. You’d be nervous if you weren’t overjoyed at his newly regained energy. “You sound like you want to do something else.”

“You’ll catch a cold,” you try to scold, but he pays no head, grabbing the hairdryer out of your hand and shutting it off. He tugs at the chord gently, unplugging it all together, and reaches for your waist. He places you securely on your lap. You can only stammer short retorts that are muffled by the energetic kisses he places all over your face. He relishes in every giggle and every squeal that escapes your mouth. Even the ways your eyes crinkle when you’re smiling makes his heart go insane. Suddenly, he stops to rest his forehead against yours. Your gaze almost absorbs him completely, but he doesn’t have qualms about that part.

“What’s wrong, Satori?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

He takes a deep breath. “Do you…mind if I vent a little?”

“You know you never have to ask for permission about that, right?” You kiss him on each of his eyes, each a little bit puffy, and then on his cheek. “I’m all ears.”

iv. “So keep trying to break free to that blue, blue sky.”

It’s always a fun, albeit loud, time when Tendou invites his old Shiratorizawa friends over for his reunion parties. You don’t mind at all, of course, considering that you were the one who encouraged this gathering in the first place. To be honest, you’re a little bit curious about how he acts around his closest friends that he talks so much about. You even wonder if a man like Ushijima Wakatoshi, the one you only see on TV or in interviews, is actually as funny as Tendou makes him out to be. In other words, you expect your home to be loud, but what you didn’t expect was that it’d be loud over you.

“Guys, Y/N’s super-duper gorgeous, right?” he asks for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. He’s set on making Ushijima give in to the fact that you’re the most beautiful person in the entire universe, but you wonder how many times you have to witness the professional’s utter silence at the question before Tendou would give up. “Toshi, you should just give it up already and say it!”

“I haven’t seen every single person in this universe, so I can’t answer,” his friend answers, brushing him off. Shirabu snorts from Ushijima’s side.

“Boo,” Tendou whines, kissing your face. From the corner of your eye, you catching Goshiki gagging. “Can’t you be a little bit more excited over the love of my life?”

“We are excited.” Semi chuckles, whacking Tendou a few times on the back to which the red-head responds with feigned pain. “But we know you’ll start sulking if we go overboard with the compliments.”

“I do not sulk that easily!” Tendou huffs, chest puffed out, and slaps Semi back. He only laughs. “I can’t believe I’m being bullied by a guy with no sense of style at all!”

“I asked you about this jacket before I bought it, and you told me it was fine!”

“You shouldn’t have asked him at all.” Shirabu smirks from across the table, arms crossed. “I bet this smart ass thought it was Y/N texting him instead of you, Semi.”

“You didn’t have to do him like that,” Kawanishi mumbles from beside the former setter. Still, that doesn’t wipe away the smirks they’re both wearing, and Tendou can only chuckle sheepishly.

“Well, what am I supposed to when Y/N looks good in anything?” Tendou sighs. His exasperation and added theatrical flair make you giggle even though you’re slightly embarrassed that he’s showing off to everyone from his old team. “Semi Semi, if it was Y/N wearing that jacket, it’d look great. You? Not so much.”

“That’s the most roundabout way of insulting me.” Shirabu and Kawanishi snicker quietly, earning a glare from Semi that goes ignored. “I suddenly remember why all the underclassmen thought you were such a hassle, Tendou.”

You turn to him in fascination. It wasn’t a surprise to you that he liked to tease and poke fun of other people, but you never thought that he was a bully. You initially had imagined Tendou to be a well-respected senior based on his reputation as a middle-blocker. Never in a million years did you think that it was the exact opposite.

“Goshiki, is that true?” you turn to ask, and the younger man nods emphatically. He’s agreeing with Semi so much that his nods make his hair fly all over the place, earning a loud laugh from Tendou.

“Y/N, Tendou was the absolute worst,” Goshiki answers, setting down his drink so forcefully that it almost spills. “He’d always ignore us when we did something good, but then he’d compliment us for absolutely nothing. It messed me up so much that instead of expecting him to cheer for landing a really good serve, I waited for praise for turning off the lights or something. Tendou was awful.”

“That was probably you being dumb, but I do agree that Tendou was never quiet during practice.” Shirabu grimaces, but you’re not sure if it’s because he just remembered something particularly annoying or if it’s because he’s agreeing with Goshiki. “I never want to go back.”

“I remember one time, he thought it’d be funny to salt the water,” Kawanishi mutters and the entire table breaks into a loud groan. “Yeah, I think I have to agree with you guys. Tendou was a handful.”

From beside you, you hear Tendou tsking and catching him wagging a disapproving finger. “Guys, you can’t insult Y/N like that! I’m gonna beat you guys up if you keep going on.”

“Dude, we get it.” Semi punches him once on the arm and then another time for good measure. “You’re married. You’ve told us a million times.”

“There’s that and the fact that we were, you know, at the wedding,” Shirabu sighs.

“Congratulations.” Ushijima’s comment is a little out of place, especially since the ceremony was already a month ago, and he had been one of the first people that Tendou told, but you only smile and thank him again. “It was an honor to be the best man.”

“Toshi, you don’t have to be so formal, you know?” Tendou grins, resting his chin on his hand. From underneath the table, you feel his other hand reach for yours, running his digits over the silver band sitting on your ring finger. “But really, I’m just reminding you guys that Y/N and I are married. I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot since you’re all always so busy.”

“Oh, what would I give to forget you?” Shirabu sighs, earning another chuckle from Kawanishi and even Semi.

You laugh at the playful banter between Tendou and his friends. You squeeze his hand gently, and even while he’s participating in a heated debate with Semi over the gray-haired man’s best album, your husband makes sure to return your squeeze. In full truth, Tendou’s still aware of every little thing that you do. It’s one of the many things that have stayed the same over the years. He still sings, and he still likes to mess up your hair, but most importantly, he makes it a point to keep remembering everything about you. Tendou’s aware that something in him has changed, so he reasons that maybe you had your little changes too. And he’d remember all of them.

“Hey, spill the tea, Y/N,” Semi jokes. “Doesn’t Tendou make for a terrible husband?”

“Yeah right,” Tendou scoffs. His grin doesn’t falter and only widens when you shake your head at Semi. “That’s absolutely correct! I’m the best husband ever."

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #satori tendou #tendou satori #tendou #tendou x reader #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #shiratorizawa #happy birthday tendou!!#nerd!!#lol how do you write dialogue???

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