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fangirlwriting-stories · 1 year ago

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They Say You Can’t Fight Fate (I Say Fucking Watch Me)

Chapter One

Chapter Four:

They spent the next day getting Roman’s car back (which was still in good condition, just needed adjustments after driving so long on the road), and then exploring.

The town was pretty small, but there still seemed plenty to do. Granted, Remus was used to far less to do, but there were still a couple bookstores, some good looking restaurants, a cinema, and, what Remus would have made them leave if they didn’t have, a rage room.

They both headed there first, and walked in to find two employees arguing behind the desk.

“No, no, shut up, shut up and listen, are you listening to me?” said the one with purple hair. “I will put up with a lot of shit from you, but I am not going to sit here and take this!”

“Well excuse me,” the other one said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to have an opinion.”

“You aren’t if your opinion is fucking stupid!”

Roman cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, hi?” he said.

To Remus’ eternal delight, the purple one turned to face him, held up a finger and said “Hang on,” then turned right back to the other one.

“Now listen,” he said. “And tell me, Janus. Have you ever run for your life?”

“Janus” said nothing.

“Well, have you?”

“You told me to listen,” Janus said. “Do you want me to listen or do you want me to answer your questions?”

“I swear to god Janus,” the purple-haired one said, as Remus leaned forward, absolutely riveted.

“It doesn’t even matter Virgil, because we’re not talking about real life, we’re talking about fiction, and that gives me free reign to judge whoever I want.”

“Have you. Ever. Run for your life?”

Janus threw his hands up. “No! Obviously I haven’t, Virgil!”

“Well then how do you know you wouldn’t be exactly as stupid as a horror movie character?”

“Because I have a functioning head,” Janus groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

“Do you know how much head function goes out the window when you’re running from a man with a chainsaw?”

“Uh, hey,” Roman said, drawing both of their attention. “Are you going to let us in?”

“Shh-shh,” Remus said, putting a finger up to Roman’s mouth. “I want to hear this.”

Thankfully, the other two seemed to take Remus’ interest as all the permission they needed, because they went right back to arguing, and Remus walked forward to lean on the desk and watch.

“I don’t know what to tell you Virgil, you’re not going to convince me of this,” Janus said. “I don’t care how much psychology is behind it. It’s a story, it doesn’t have to be realistic.”

“Yes it does,” Virgil snapped, looking up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t have to be reality, but it needs to be believable!”

“I’m sorry, what is the criticism launched at horror movies so often it’s become a joke all on it’s own?”

“Janus—”

“Isn’t it something about the characters making stupid unbelievable decisions? No, wait, that couldn’t be it, because that would mean you’re a moron who’s making a stupid argument.”

“I’m going to strangle you,” Virgil growled.

“Look, the way I see it, we’re diametrically opposed on this anyway,” Janus said with a shrug. “Seems like we need outside input. You want to ask the customers here?”

“Oh please leave me out of this,” Roman said, backing up.

“I think you’re both right but for the wrong reasons,” Remus said with a delighted grin. “Yes, human reasoning goes out the window when someone’s chasing you with a chainsaw. But also, it’s funnier if the characters are stupid.”

Virgil turned to stare at him. “It’s a horror movie. It’s not meant to be funny.”

“Is it not? I’ve never actually seen one of those. Not by lack of trying, it was apparently just too much on my delicate mental state. But I don’t know, the idea of people running screaming from a guy with a chainsaw like that’s not gonna make them easier to find sounds hilarious, in my opinion. Anyway, can you let us in so we can break a bunch of shit?”

Now both of them were looking at him in confusion, but after a second, Virgil sighed. “Fine. I guess since no one is going to listen to reason anyway,” he said in annoyance. “Are you both eighteen?”

“Yep,” Remus lied instantly.

“Cool. Don’t damage the structure of the room, just the items inside it. You can hit stuff against the walls as long as it’s not hard enough to make holes in them. Make sure you’re wearing shoes if you break anything glass. Janus will take you to grab your safety gear. Are either of you intoxicated, sick, injured, or pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant,” Remus said instantly, as Roman groaned and buried his head in his hands in the background. Remus had a similar response the last time they went to a rage room.

“Congratulations,” Virgil deadpanned, sliding two liability waivers across the table. “That’ll be 60 bucks for each of you.”

“Great, put it on our parents’ stolen credit cards,” Remus said, fishing one out of his pocket and passing it across the counter.

Virgil stared at him for a second, seeming vaguely suspicious, which was an interesting reaction, since Remus had just said out loud the cards were stolen. Janus, on the other hand, was smiling at him, appearing closer to intrigued.

“You got it,” he said, taking the card from Remus and running it through before passing it back to him. “Lets go get your safety gear.”

Remus grinned at him, and he and Roman both followed Janus back into another room, where Janus gave them both eye protection, coveralls to change into, and gloves.

Remus had been to a rage room once before, but the feeling had been totally different. He’d spent the time smashing TVs and vases in an effort to get some kind of, well, rage, out at his situation and everything he was going through. And it had felt amazing in the moment, but then he’d gone back to the mental hospital and everything had just felt more insurmountable.

This time, however, as soon as Remus walked into the room, he started looking around in delight at everything there. The second Janus closed the door, he ran over and smashed a hole into a TV screen. Roman laughed in delight behind him and went to do a similar thing to a TV nearby.

Remus whacked his TV several more times, then turned to cause a good amount of damage to an empty bookshelf. When he’d hit that enough times, he turned to several decorative vases. When those were appropriately shattered, he moved over to a pile of cords and headphones.

And rather than anger like the last time he’d been to a place like this, the whole time he felt like he was shaking with adrenaline and mania and joy. Roman was taking out a fair bit of items with just as much energy, and near the end of their hour-long session, they both ended up in the middle of the room, surrounded by broken and shattered objects, with grins that were way too wide.

Remus looked around for a second, then started laughing. Roman started laughing a second later, and they both ended up on the floor, laying down in a relatively clean area and staring up at the ceiling.

“Fuck,” Remus said.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed.

“I liked that better than last time,” Remus said.

“Me too,” Roman said. “I pretended all of the stuff I smashed was Mom and Dad or one of your orderlies.”

“Fuck,” Remus realized, turning to look at him. “Why didn’t I think of that? We have to come back now.”

Roman laughed. “You think Mom and Dad will be cool with us maxing out their credit cards on rage rooms?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said, turning back to the ceiling. “But I think I have a better idea.”

…

Virgil and Janus were surprisingly willing to hire the two of them. Apparently they didn’t have a ton of employees right now, and two more would boost the hours they could be open, since Virgil and Janus could only work when they weren’t in class. They were both a few years older than Roman and Remus, and trying to work their way through community college.

So now, when he and Roman weren’t apartment shopping or going on drives through the area around town or trying to figure out how the hell they were going to afford not dying, they were working at the rage room, usually with Janus and Virgil for now, since they were new and still learning some things.

Remus liked Virgil and Janus. They didn’t ask too many questions and bought that Remus and Roman were both eighteen without asking to see an ID. (Well, they were close, so Remus could understand why they bought it. He and Roman both looked a little old for their age, you could blame the trauma, and they’d only have to last until June before they wouldn’t have to lie anymore at all. But it was still nice that neither Janus or Virgil pushed too hard.)

Janus shared Remus’ tendency for chaos, and he’d introduced Remus to spray paint art. Just on plywood that was going to get smashed in one of their rooms, so far, but Remus loved it all the same, and he sure Janus would be down to spraypaint in slightly-less-legal places one of these days. It would be Remus’ first crime! He was a little embarrassed it had taken him this long to commit one, but the orderlies had watched him too closely for him to get away with much back at the institute. Janus was clearly experienced, though. He said he knew how to spraypaint, and shoplift (which Remus and Roman should both probably learn just for survival reasons), and Remus could never be quite sure if he was joking when he said he’d gotten away with arson once.

Janus talked with Roman about theatre and acting, which was clearly less superior to his conversations with Remus, but that was okay. Roman could keep Janus’ boring half, as long as Remus got to have fun with him.

Virgil was a little less out there overall, but he still got approval from Remus once he brought in his whole collection of horror movies for the two of them to watch in the back when they didn’t have customers. Unsurprisingly, Remus decided he liked the super gorey fucked up ones the most, though he did ask Virgil to steer clear anything with mental hospitals or crazy people. Virgil, thankfully, didn’t ask. Remus liked that quality of his more every day.

In what was more of a surprise, horror-movie enthusiast Virgil also loved Disney just like Roman. The two of them spent hours talking about it and debating it— apparently they liked it for very different reasons. Roman liked the mushy gushy happy fairy tale aspect like a loser, and Virgil, in what Remus could almost respect, liked the darker undertones and weird messed up messages that could be found throughout the movies. They both went back and forth on this topic often.

And unfortunately, it was during one of these debates that they ended up on a topic neither Remus or Roman liked.

“See, that’s another thing about The Lion King. I can’t decide whether they should have added soulmates or not,” Virgil said, waving his hand dismissively as he scribbled down something on the inventory sheet. “Like yeah, as far as we know animals don’t have soulmates, but if they’re going to be humanizing the characters to such an extent anyway, it’s at least worth thinking about.”

Remus exchanged a glance with Roman, who rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” he said without looking at Virgil. “Honestly, the romance wasn’t my favorite part of the movie.”

“Oh yeah, me neither obviously,” Virgil said. “That’s hardly the only great thing about it. It just could have made Simba and Nala’s relationship different is all I’m thinking.”

Roman didn’t reply this time, and after a second Virgil seemed to take notice and glanced back up. He paused and stood up straighter when he noticed both of their faces.

“Wait, did I touch a nerve or something?” he asked, setting the inventory sheet down.

“Don’t worry about it,” Roman said, but he turned away, and Remus looked down at his hands and started to fidget.

“Oh shit, I really did,” Virgil said. “I’m sorry. I got it, soulmates are off limits.”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Roman said hesitantly, but he trailed off. Remus glanced up at him, and he glanced back again.

“Dude, you don’t need to explain,” Virgil said. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t talk about it. Anyway, obviously Be Prepared is Disney’s best villain song, but do you have a preference in regards to the second best? I’m torn between Poor Unfortunate Souls and The Mob Song from Beauty and The Beast.”

Remus glanced over at Virgil, surprised to find him moving on so comfortably. He really didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Granted, Remus didn’t have much of a perspective on how important soulmates were in general society, but it was all anyone ever seemed to talk to him about growing up. He wasn’t expecting Virgil to be so comfortable writing it off as a subject entirely.

“Uh,” Roman said, seeming just as caught off guard as Remus was. “I think I prefer The Mob Song. It’s a good cautionary tale about thinking critically. Sorry, I need to back up for a second. You’re just okay with not talking about soulmates? At all?”

Virgil looked back over at him. “Yeah. Is that bad? You didn’t seem to want me to.”

“But…” Roman glanced over at Remus again. Remus shrugged.

“It’s just not usually something we get to wiggle our way out of,” Remus said, turning back to Virgil. “It’s, you know, soulmates. We always have to deal with it.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Always? What soulmate obsessed nuthouse did you grow up in?”

Remus flinched hard, taking a couple steps back, and Roman stepped closer to him.

“None of your business,” Roman snapped at Virgil, who was now looking thoroughly confused and a little offended.

“Dude, you’re the ones who keep bringing it up now,” Virgil said, holding up his hands. “I was totally cool dropping it and moving on.”

“I’m taking my break,” Remus said, turning around and running off before either of them could say anything else.

Instead of the break room, however, he headed straight for the employee bathroom and locked himself inside. Thankfully, it was a single person bathroom, meaning Remus was free to slide down to the floor and slam his head back against the door and slow his breathing without anyone watching him.

Virgil was going to figure it out now, and then he was going to call Remus’ nuthouse and get him shipped back there and Remus couldn’t take going back there. He’d rather die, and that was not hyperbole.

A knock came at the door. “Remus?” Roman called. “Remus, it’s okay. It’s just me. Virgil’s not here.”

Remus reached up and turned the handle just enough so the door would unlock, then scooted forward so Roman could open the door and buried his head in his knees.

“Hey,” Roman said, locking the door behind him and moving around to kneel in front of Remus.

“This is the stupidest fucking freak out of all time,” Remus said into his pants. “He literally fucking said we didn’t have to talk about it and then we didn’t shut up about it.”

“It’s… new,” Roman said hesitantly, putting a hand on Remus’ arm. “It’s okay. We’re figuring this out together, remember?”

Remus mumbled some kind of weak affirmation, because Roman was right but also he wasn’t doing so hot.

Roman squeezed his arm gently. “Re? Can I help you somehow?”

Remus pulled his head up. “Can you tell me I’m okay?”

Roman’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Can you say it anyway?” Remus said, answering his unasked question with another question. “Even though I’m kind of not?”

Roman nodded, and pulled Remus forward into a hug. “You’re okay, Remus,” he said. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Remus took a deep breath in and wrapped his arms around Roman. And for a while, they sat there breathing.

…

They explained some of it to Virgil, afterwards. Or, well, they explained it but they didn’t. They told him that the two of them were platonic soulmates, and most people where they’d come from had been super not okay with that, and they were used to some kind of angry or condescending reaction when they explained.

Virgil said, again, that he got it, and they didn’t have to talk about it, which he’d apparently meant the first time. He also offered to tell Janus so they didn’t have to have a repeat of the conversation, which they took him up on.

So after that, they had a job in a cool place with cool people, who were really actually okay with not talking about soulmates. And Remus was pretty sure it was still going to take him a while to get used to that, but that was okay. They weren’t in a rush.

...

Chapter Five

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #creativitwins #platonic dukexiety #platonic prinxiety #platonic dukeceit #platonic roceit #my fic

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quietwingsinthesky · 9 months ago

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📚🍬🔪🦷

what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

(oh, it’s this little bit i’d completely forgotten about that i think i scribbled down immediately after finishing hellbent.)

“And what color were Clara’s eyes?” the Doctor asks, slipping it into the rhythm of their conversation like any other question. Even’s fingers drum against the metal of the staircase they’ve seated themself on, two soft thuds of flesh and two clacks from parts that aren’t very good at pretending to be fingers anymore. They tip their head to the side.

“You don’t want my memories of her, Doctor.” Even drums again. One-two, three-four. “We weren’t exactly friends.”

“Nonsense. You’d have loved Clara,” he says it on reflex. He waits for something to follow, some internal feeling that he’s correct in his assumption or entirely off base. Nothing comes.

“You loved Clara,” Even corrects, gently. It sounds like pity, and it grates.

“See? You’re already telling me things.”

“You knew that already,” Even says. “You knew, or you wouldn’t be asking in the first place.” They shift forward, crossing their arms over their knees. “Please don’t ask,” they whisper.

Post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character.

Well, let me set up my usual fallback of Supernatural to allow me wiggle room for my Doctor Who take, but: my unpopular opinion is that Jack is an adult. He’s treated as an adult in canon. Making him into a child in canonverse stuff will have me squinting in suspicion for most people. obviously, not my trusted and beloved mutuals who are Understanders (and. more importantly. who I know are not harboring some unexamined ableist ideas.) but. everyone else does not get a pass and will be gazed upon with disdain :D actually, the bigger crime of making Jack a child and simplifying him is that you’re being boring, the fun of him comes from how messed up his situation is and how his sudden jump to adulthood is both horrifying but also one of the few ways he can grasp at control.

anyway, that’s a settled hot take in place so that i can say one for doctor who that im not sure is a hot take or not because i don’t know the fandom as well. but anyway, it’s that 90% of eleven and river’s scenes together did such a disservice to both of their characters that it actively uninvested me in the romance they were trying to sell. I feel like i may have said this before, but it’s like there’s a switch they flip when it’s time for the episode’s mandated eleven and river flirting time where they both turn into much more generic characters acting in ways that feel very ooc so that the show can. i don’t know, really. create tension, I suppose? But the tension falls flat because they aren’t acting like themselves so you can’t get invested in this relationship because it doesn’t feel like it’s being built off of them connecting. And it really stands out as just, truly awful, because you’ll also have some fantastic scenes actually exploring their relationship and the effects it has on both of them, the positive and the negative, and yes, I am talking about the broken wrist scene from Angels in Manhattan again because i wish all of elevenriver was like that, and it’s not, and i’m mad about it-!

what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

okay, i know it says research but it is much funnier to me if i just say that. sometimes. you need to describe a character touching something and you need the physical stimuli in your hands to really describe it, right? right. understandable. okay, so going from that, sometimes you need your character to say, lick a chair and describe that, and you realize you have no idea how to because how would you know what licking a chair is like? and then you look at your dining room chair from across the room. and you have to make a decision here. about what matters more to you. your dignity or your accuracy.

and if you’re a good writer, i think accuracy always wins.

share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

breathing exercises are bullshit. you need to find a chant. you need to find something you can memorize and then when you feel yourself getting anxious, you need to start repeating it over and over and over. anything at all. what matters is that you’re saying it, out loud, and you can hear yourself saying it and you need to like the words so you’re focusing on what you’re saying, and this will save you. When I was in middle school, I did exorcisms. In high school, I’d repeat monologues from Hannibal to myself. Nowadays, I’m usually using the “heart. lungs. liver. nerves.” chant from slay the princess because it is short and ominous in a way that can be funny after a few repetitions and helps laugh the anxiety out of me.

and in a pinch, if you don’t have anything memorized, pull up the nearest piece of written text you have and start reading it out loud and don’t stop reading it until you’re calm again, and keep going a little after that just to make sure. Could be a fanfic you’ve got on your phone or could be an actual book. I’d reccomend the Iliad, because half of that book is just reciting name after name after name and you will start to hear how ridiculous it is rather than hearing your own anxiety, and it’ll help. you say “so and so brought 50 ships and he was the son of that guy who was king of this. and also this other dude, son of yet another guy we will never mention again, friends with holy shit another guy-“ and eventually you’re going to start giggling your way out of an anxiety attack.

#oh look i got an excuse to rant about elevenriver oops.#like. god there’s good in there!!! but also it’s so bogged down it’s frustrating as hell #ask #dw oc

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mysterypond · 2 years ago

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Get to know your fic writer! 2, 18, 26, 31, 55, 58, 74

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Yes and no... A lot of my planning process is super vague because I'm a pantser, so I rely more on what I call "key events"

Like for the Pariging coffeeshop au my outline was honestly just

Chapter 1: problem customer

Chapter 2: chess

Chapter 3: date

Chapter 4: Pariston kidnaps Gon

Chapter 5: jail

And that was pretty much it, because I kind of come up with most of the stuff I write while I'm actually physically writing it. Sometimes I will spontaneously merge / create new chapters too. It just depends on the vibes.

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

So funny story, a lot of my fics have what I call "working titles" which is a silly thing I'll use as a placeholder that often times ends up becoming the actual title. For humor fics I like to have funnier titles, and for more serious fics I try to keep the titles more serious. It just depends on the vibes. I'm honestly not the best at titling things, however I feel like I have a lot of really good titles and then a bunch of mediocre ones.

Some of my favorite titles and their meanings

Five x Star x Service - the whole thing centers around Ging and Pariston's employee-customer food over Pariston rating the coffee shop poorly out of 5 stars, and what Ging does to bring the rating up. Pretty self explanatory but I like it.

From Me x To You - the whole fic is written in the form of letters, so it's a play off the writing on the envelopes.

Re x Do - A timeloop fic

Baked x Beans - this one is super stupid but Beans is high during the events of the fic so

Let x Go - It's a play off "allow to proceed" and "give up" based on how exactly you interpret the dynamics between Mito and Ging during the fic.

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Five x Star x Service - I know I talk about this fic a lot but it's pretty tame up until chapter 4, which turns the goofy stakes serious.

Double x Date - it's double fake dating where no one is satisfied (Ging/Beans + Pariston/Piyon where Pariston and Ging are trying to play mind games for each other)

when the world sleeps it dreams - honestly anything I say about this fic is a spoiler

Bringing x The x Milk x Myself - Mizai milk. Enough said.

Name x Game - dwun's payback for ging legally changing his name... it's short but the gag at the end is fun.

AITA for assuming the bounty hunter out to kill me was a woman? - the only AITA to make this list just bc it has chrollo as the narrator

I'd say pretty much all of these are "wild rides" in their own ways

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

A bit of both. A lot of times it starts with a "what if X character did Y thing?" For original stories, I always start with plot first and then create a character to navigate it.

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

I would say my favorite character to write would have to be Ging but specifically because I've used him as a rp character for so long that I've delved into my headcanons for how he thinks and the justifications for his actions that I think I have a really strong grasp on how I write him. Which is kind of funny in that part of the way I characterize him is like "me, but if I were more of a jackass" especially since the way I have him swear in fics is a 1-1 ratio of the swearing style I use when I speak.

I don't actually know if people like the way I write Ging or not, I don't really get compliments on my characterization of him compared to other characters but also I don't really care. People have different ways they view the characters, and the way I write him is my personal interpretation so if people don't agree it's not my problem.

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

Writing for sure!

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

Haha this is pretty funny because there's a few surefire tells if you know me well enough.

a) There are certain words I misspell very frequently but also consistently without catching it. The most common giveaway is that i write "uhg" instead of "ugh" because phonetically "uhg" makes more sense for how I pronounce it.

b) sense of humor. I feel like the humor fics I write balance a fine line between "lol random xD crack" and "this has like, structured jokes". I like to write a lot of situational humor, and sometimes I'll choose certain funny words in the prose to deal extra psychic damage, so I think someone would have a hard time replicting my style of humor.

c) there's a few phrases that are similar to things I say irl which I feel are less common to use in fics, because a lot of times my prose is written in a similar way to how I speak. I've had friends who know me irl comment that my writing SOUNDS like I'm reading it to them in their heads, just because I have a very particular and unique cadence to my voice (I blame living in 3 different areas with 3 distinct regional accents for that one). I think people who have heard me speak either irl or over voice chat would have a much easier time if I gave them a passage from a few fics and asked them to identify which one is mine.

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married2myphone · 3 years ago

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Chapter One: Who Did It?

Life As The Avengers' House Keeper

Pairings: Platonic! Avengers x Female Reader

Tags & Warnings: humour, fluff, found family

Chapter Summary: Ex-Hydra agent/Undercover Shield agent/Avenger turned house keeper, Y/n, spent the entire day picking up after the Avengers after they threw a party the night before. She was incredibly exhausted, and after making dinner, she was ready to just call it a day... Until someone decided not to follow the very simple rule of "Put used dishes in the sink after using them." Now Y/n was about to rain hell upon the Earth's greatest defenders.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/n: I don't usually write fics like this, but I'm a sucker for found family. Also, reader is really short cause I think it makes it funnier.

Tag List: @olsensnpm, @natasha-belova, @caroldanvers2

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

—

The Avengers have gone through more than what any regular person could ever imagine. It felt as though everyday, they were putting their lives on the line to protect others, and they did it all with a brave face. Whether it be nazis, aliens, super soldiers; they defeated them all and saved the world more times than they could count.

They were heroes, the greatest hope of the Earth. There was nothing that could defeat them, and whenever they were brought down, they never hesitated to get back up. It was as if after everything they’ve seen, nothing could ever scare them anymore. In a way that was true. Very little scared the members of the Avengers. They almost feared nothing at all.

Except for one person.

“Who did it?”

The Avengers were lined up in the middle of the living room of the compound. Some had their arms crossed with a defensive look on their faces, some were avoiding eye contact and moving awkwardly. Either way, they were all forced to face the five foot two woman in front of them who was close to losing her shit.

She had spent the entire day cleaning up after Tony threw a party last night, then she had to carry all that damn laundry to the laundry room, which for some reason, was on the other side of the damn compound; then do grocery shopping because their fridge was completely cleaned out for the week, then she had to fold and distribute the clothes; then she spent three hours cooking dinner.

All she had to do was set the table and eat, then everything would be done. She could sleep, and everything would be fine. It was an incredibly stressful day, she just wanted to get it over with. But of course, something had to be wrong.

There was a missing glass from the cabinet and that completely ruined the table set up. She couldn’t find it anywhere and she has told this team of knuckleheads thousands of times over that after using a dish, they put it in the sink. Not even the dishwasher because she didn’t trust them to organize it properly. Of course, they stayed stubborn, and normally, Y/n would let it go.

But not today. She was looking to beat some ass.

So there she was, standing impatiently in front of the world’s strongest heroes, threatening them with a slipper. Behind her was a table set with perfectly good food that was getting colder by the second.

No one was allowed to eat until Y/n figured out which one of them was guilty for leaving a glass out.

“Peter?” The boy flinched and almost physically jumped at his name being called, hesitantly raising his head and meeting the woman’s eyes.

“I won’t get mad if it was you. Just be honest.” She said in a calming tone, though her still gripping a slipper in her hand didn’t do much to ease Peter’s nerves.

“It wasn’t me, I swear. I always wash the dishes after I use them like you told me to. I even dry them and put them back in the right cabinet right after intsead of using the dishwasher because that wastes money.” Peter whined, still very scared as he eyed the slipper in the woman’s hand.

“Alright, I believe you. You can eat.” Y/n said with a sigh, and Peter let out a breath of relief, a smile coming up to his face as he happily left the line and went to the dining table where food was prepared.

“Sam, Bucky.” Y/n called out and Sam let out an offended grunt.

“Why are you asking us?” He asked and Y/n raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why are you so defensive?” She countered and Sam looked away guiltily at the question.

“I can’t speak for Sam, but it wasn’t me. I have my own bottle I drink from. I never use the glasses.” Bucky said and Y/n stared at him down, trying to gauge whether or not the man was lying.

He stared back challengingly, though when Y/n tilted his head, he couldn’t help but clear his throat in awkwardness, his eyes going down to the floor. For such a stoic man who was known for his unwavering stare, it would be a shock to see him fall to the gaze of such a tiny woman. But it happened so often now that the rest of the team was used to seeing it.

“You can eat.” Y/n said and Bucky gave a grateful nod, walking over to the table with Sam trying his best to walk with him without drawing attention.

“Sam, you’re not off the hook yet.” Sam let out a groan, muttering about how it wasn’t fair as he went back in line.

“Rogers, you gonna diplomat your way out of this one?” Y/n asked, turning to the man who had his arms crossed with an amused look on his face.

“You saw me drinking earlier. You also saw me put the glass in the sink, so it wasn’t me.” Steve said, rather happy with his prepared alibi.

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t use a glass earlier. I see it all the time. Use one glass, put it in the sink, then take out a perfectly clean glass an hour later instead of using the one you already took. You’re not safe yet.” Y/n said, pointing the slipper at Steve who shook his head and raised his hands in defense.

“Natasha-”

“It was me.” Bruce spoke up with a shaky voice, but Y/n didn’t move her eyes from Natasha.

“No.” Y/n said in response to the scientist who opened his mouth to retort.

“But-”

“Bruce, sit your ass down.” Y/n interrupted, tilting her head over to the table.

Bruce glanced between Natasha and Y/n before letting out a sigh and reluctantly making his way over to the table so he could eat.

“What’s your excuse?” Y/n asked Natasha who had a stone cold look on her face, incredibly unreadable.

“I don’t drink a lot of water.” Natasha said and Y/n narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“I know, which is why we’re gonna have a talk later about your health. Now, get over there.” Y/n said and Natasha let out a sigh before she went over to the table, mumbling about how she was in perfectly good health.

“What do you have to say for yourself, old man?” Y/n asked, turning to Clint who let out a tired sigh. The one time he decides to stay over for the weekend, and he was already in the middle of another issue.

“Look, I live with three kids and a wife who likes to have the house in a very specific way. If someone’s gonna misplace a glass, it’s not me.” Clint explained and Y/n narrowed her eyes at him before relenting.

“Fine, but only because Laura always talks about how great you are at home.” The words made Clint smile and he happily went to eat dinner while texting his wife and teasing her about what Y/n said.

“Thing one and thing two.” Y/n said as she turned to face the twins. Pietro was sitting on the couch, staring at the food impatiently while Wanda had a confident look on her face.

“I’m the most organized person in this entire compound, and you know it, Y/n. I would never leave a glass out. I even took out all the dishes from the dishwasher and put them all back in the right place while you were out.” Wanda said and Y/n smiled happily at the girl.

“I know you did, and thanks so much for that. Go eat.” Y/n said in a kind tone. Wanda sent a cheeky grin to her twin brother and flipped him off with both fingers before going over to the table.

Pietro rolled his eyes, about to flip off his sister back when he caught the glare Y/n was sending his way.

“Y/n. Beautiful, kind, talented Y/n.” Pietro said with a sheepish grin.

“Did you leave a glass out?” Y/n asked, ignoring Pietro’s flattery.

“No.” The boy answered simply.

“I don’t believe you.” Y/n responded and Pietro let out a scoff, hands shooting up in disbelief.

“What do you want me to say? I didn’t do it.” Pietro said, but when Y/n showed no signs of believing him, he let out a huff and crossed his arms, pouting like a child.

“And then there were three.” Y/n said, looking at the remaining Avengers. Steve continued to look incredibly amused at the situation, Sam looked offended, while Pietro continued sulking.

“Time’s ticking, boys. They’re gonna finish all the food before I even think about letting you eat.” Y/n said, staring down the three.

“And what are you gonna eat, huh? You gonna starve like the rest of us?” Sam asked dramatically, pointing his finger at the woman who raised her eyebrow at it. Sam quickly put the finger down but continued his stance.

“I spent seven days locked in a cell with no food and water and still managed to survive. One night without dinner won’t kill me. Besides, I can cook whatever I want, whenever I want.” Y/n countered and Sam cursed under his breath.

“Damn, she’s good.” Sam said and Steve shook his head at the hilarity of the situation.

“Look, maybe depriving us of a meal isn’t the best way to sort this situation out. How about we discuss it formally over dinner like adults and get to the bottom of it there. You spent so much time making this dinner for us, Y/n. It’d be a waste if it wasn’t eaten by all of us.” Steve said, slowly approaching Y/n with his arms out.

“Kiss ass.” Sam muttered to Pietro who snickered. Y/n cleared her throat and glared at the two. Pietro slapped Sam’s shoulder to show that he was on Y/n’s side, but this only caused Sam to retaliate and the two began a back and forth fight of slapping each other, which Y/n rolled her eyes at.

“You make a very compelling case, Steve… But no, I’m standing my ground. Until you all learn how to follow the small amount of rules I ask of all of you, the next dinner you’re gonna be eating will be laced with poison.” Y/n said, pointing his finger and glaring at Steve.

“Hey, gang. What’s for dinner?” Everyone in the room turned to Tony who walked into the room. His hair was wet with a towel around his neck, and the man walked over to the water dispenser with an empty glass in his hand.

“What?” Tony asked, turning to the team with furrowed eyebrows when he realized everyone was staring at him in complete silence.

Y/n let out a deep breath from her nose, eyes closed as she tried to control her irritation. The Avengers watched with bated breath as Y/n went over to the fridge and pulled something out before going over to the pantry and pulling something else out.

She then walked back to Tony, snatching the glass in his hand while he was mid-drink, causing some of the water to splash on him.

“Hey!” He said in protest, but was cut off when Y/n shoved two things in his hand.

He looked down to see a tiny tub of microwaveable rice, along with a can of tuna in his hands.

“Enjoy your dinner, Tony.” Y/n said with a menacing smile before turning to Pietro, Steve, and Sam.

“Go on and eat, you three. You’re gonna run out.” Y/n said and there was a pause before everyone went back to their business.

Sam and Pietro quickly went over to the table and Steve went over to the dumbfounded Tony Stark who was looking in confusion at his “dinner” before glancing over to the whole meal prepared for the rest of them.

“You might want to go take a look at the rules list again, buddy.” Steve said, patting Tony on the shoulder before going over to the table.

“Anyone who feeds Tony is eating canned food for the next week.” Y/n called out from where she was before entering her room, the slamming of a door ringing through the air.

Y/n let out a sigh and went over to her bed, reaching into her side table and taking out a tupperware of mini donuts before grabbing a remote and turning on the tv.

It was a known rule in the compound that no one was allowed to eat on their beds, but Y/n was an exception to all the rules. Not just because she made them, either. Y/n was the one responsible for doing everything around the compound, the rules were simply to make things a bit easier on her.

If Y/n from a few years ago saw her now, she would think that she was some imposter and kill her on sight. But so much has changed during that time. From one of the best HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the field to the Avengers’ housekeeper.

She went from having a kill count of over two hundred people during her first year as an agent with a ninety-eight percent success rate on missions at the age of nine, to doing the Avengers’ dirty laundry every Sunday. She used to be a high level threat and if she lasted long enough, she would’ve been an Avengers level threat too. But now she helps out Spider-Man with his Home Economics homework every other weekend.

Sometimes Y/n finds herself thinking “What the hell am I doing?” Whenever she remembers that she could very much kill everyone in the compound without breaking a sweat. But just as fast as that thought came, it disappeared with a mere shrug.

That life was way behind Y/n. Old Y/n would think she was completely humiliating and a disgrace to everything she worked for if she saw her now, but present Y/n didn’t give a single shit. She liked her life now, and she meant that.

She never imagined herself picking up after the Avengers who, surprisingly, were the most reckless people when it came to self care. But here she was now, and she wasn’t complaining. Well, sometimes she did complain, but overall, it wasn’t a bad time.

Y/n had originally met the Avengers when they were formed, save for Clint and Natasha. She’s been there from the beginning; undercover HYDRA agent posing as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was then chosen for the Avengers initiative. It was supposed to be easy. Act like a hero and get all the information she could on them to help HYDRA take them down, along with anyone else who got in their way.

But she was compromised. Emotionally, at least. Even though Y/n had too much pride to admit it out loud, they all knew it. She had grown fond of them and didn’t particularly want to see any of them die. So, she indirectly helped Steve with the whole HYDRA situation at S.H.I.E.L.D.

When they realized Y/n was a member of HYDRA all along, they threw her in a cell and subjected her to a bunch of questioning. It took a really long time to get everyone to trust her again, but she found her way.

She ended up escaping her cell and went into hiding for an incredibly long time. Then the battle of Ultron came and she decided, eh, why not fight with them one last time against a bunch of murderous robots in a floating city? It was a good way to go.

But somehow, they all managed to get out of that alive. Realizing that Y/n really was a changed person, the Avengers decided they could keep her around. It was clear that she wasn’t the same person she was before and had no intentions of breaking their trust again.

They had offered Y/n her old job as an Avenger once more, and after thinking about it for a while, Y/n realized that she didn’t want to go back to fighting. The battle in Sokovia was more than Y/n ever bargained for, and she really was prepared to die then.

Y/n knew that if she stayed with the Avengers, things would be just like that, if not worse, and Y/n was tired. She had spent her whole life fighting; raised from the ground up to be nothing but a soldier meant to be ready to give up her life for a cause she never believed in.

But she didn’t want to leave them either. That time she spent laying low was one of the loneliest times in her life. The Avengers taught her what it meant to be a human instead of a weapon, and she owed them the world. She just wasn’t ready to pay that debt through more years of fighting.

During that time on the run though, Y/n learned one thing. She was damn good at housework. She had to keep herself occupied during that time alone, and Y/n spent most of it learning how to cook, clean, and everything else. It was relaxing to her because it kept her mind off of the bad things.

When the Avengers brought her to the new compound where there was always some new mess being made, Y/n felt like she was in a playground. So much to clean and Y/n was more than willing to do all of it.

Well, most of it. The compound was a huge place, Y/n wasn't about to clean all of that every single day. Even she had her limits. So they agreed to keep her services within the living area, and if Y/n was particularly bored, she could clean elsewhere if she so pleased.

Soon enough, it was decided. Y/n was going to be the Avengers’ housekeeper. They were a bit hesitant about it first. It didn’t really feel right to have an old member of the Avengers just clean up after them like a maid.

Though Y/n did threaten all of them that if they ever called her a maid, she’d kill them all in a heartbeat.

Years passed though, and Y/n continued being their housekeeper. Plus, the team grew and Y/n found herself a family. She was happier than ever, despite how annoying some of them could be. Being a worldly threat and deadly killer couldn’t compare to picking after these odd bunch of heroes.

Being the Avengers’ housekeeper changed her life for the better as she was introduced to things she never would have known had she stayed in HYDRA. It was no surprise that HYDRA didn’t care much for their agents. For a long time, she was living like a weapon and she never saw anything wrong with it, because she didn’t think there was any other way to live.

But then she became a part of the Avengers and they treated her like she was a real person. It took awhile, but the longer she stuck around with them, Y/n started believing that maybe she was human. She liked feeling human. She liked all the things the world had to offer, and she liked the feeling she got when she was around the Avengers.

So there she was, lying in her bed eating donuts while watching some children’s cartoons when just years ago, she was spilling blood without even a second thought.

Life was good.

#avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #mcu x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #clint barton x reader #bruce banner x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #peter parker x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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blackgirlsuperherorants · 4 years ago

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Stuckys, we need to talk. Like, seriously.

I understand you're upset that Stucky is not canon in the MCU, but you have got to stop yourselves from using that fact to shit all over Black characters just because of their newfound proximity to Bucky Barnes. Seriously. No, seriously. I'm going to call a bunch of you out, now, but I hope you listen and take heed.

1) This isn't about queer representation for you. It's about Chris and Sebastian being hot white men and you wanting to see them make out on screen. And that's literally fine, who doesn't want to see that? But you need to start admitting that's what it is. Because if it wasn't about that, and it was really about queer representation, so many of you wouldn't be calling Sam Wilson "sloppy seconds", and y'all wouldn't treat both Sam and Anthony like an afterthought. Even with a lot of y'all becoming Sambucky shippers, you're doing it under the guise of Sam being some sort of consolation prize because Bucky can't have Steve. Sam has no agency, and also is treated like he isn't as good. Literally, I saw a TikTok with some girl pretending to be Bucky and Sam, and having Bucky literally tell Sam he's sloppy seconds because he can't have Steve. Literally yikes, guys.

Also, it's always girl fans who do this. I'm not saying there aren't any, but I never see gay men who are MCU fans shipping in this toxic way. And I definitely have seen gay men ship Stucky, but I swear to God there seems to be a clear difference in the way they ship vs the white girls who clearly just want to watch Chris and Sebastian make out. Literally every toxic Stucky I've ever seen who does stuff like this is a white girl. I'm not going to say no gay men are toxic fans, because there probably are some, but the amount of fans I see shitting on Sam who are white girls far outweighs any toxic Stucky gay man. Like I always say on here, Stucky is an obvious ship and I understand why people ship it, but it never had to be canon and treating it like it's the end all be all, and especially shitting on other ships like Sambucky, is really weird and, again, makes it obvious that it's not really about queer representation for you.

2) Bucky is allowed to flirt with Sarah Wilson. The same girl I saw saying Sam was "sloppy seconds" also said Bucky was only flirting with Sarah because she's an "extension of Sam", and because Kevin Feige won't let Sambucky happen so Sarah is the stand in. How insulting and sexist to insinuate that a woman is simply an extension of her male family member. No matter how you meant it, that's a really sexist notion. I've seen people make funnier jokes, like Bucky can't decide which Wilson sibling he likes, or he's going to become a Wilson one way or another. Neither of those jokes takes autonomy and humanity away from Sarah. ALSO, Sarah is a dark skinned Black woman being portrayed as desirable to the white boy fave on a major TV show that is part of the biggest film franchise in the world. I'm not sure if y'all know how much colorism effects Black women, especially dark skinned Black women. Hollywood almost never casts dark skinned Black women as desirable love interests. Especially one that isn't super modelesque with basically European features and bone straight hair. This is a positive thing for representation of dark skinned Black women, and I KNOW you've seen how happy Black girls were just seeing that 2 second interaction. How dare you reduce it to being there because Marvel stole your Stucky, and especially not because she's simply "an extension of Sam." At this point, there's no clear indication that Sarah and Bucky will literally happen, but goddamn, you can't let Black girls be a love interest for just one second? Even if you like "queer Bucky", bisexual men exist, damn. Sticking Bucky with Sharon for no reason, like they did with Steve, would have been weird and bad and you would have been more valid for questioning Marvel's motives for doing it, but letting Bucky be himself and flirt with a cute girl on a boat for 2 seconds isn't a bad thing. And if Sarah does actually become his girlfriend, it's an absolute win, and you need to let Black girls have this.

Like, I get Stucky, and I also understand wishing Marvel would just finally let any main character be actually queer. I seriously understand. But can you complain about that without shitting on the Black characters and the fans who are happy about them, right now?

I never was a fan of Stucky, because I don't think you have to have romantic feelings for someone to care about them that deeply, so I don't understand the Stucky shipper assertion that Marvel somehow stole something owed to them... but I also do understand why you ship it, and it's honestly not a bad ship. You guys just take it too far and make things uncomfortable for everyone else. And, as I've been saying for years, sometimes you make it lowkey racist. People have been shipping Stevesam since CA:TWS and you guys have downplayed it the entire time, and even used Sam as Steve's stand-in for Bucky in your fics and all of that. I remember reading fics tagged Stevesam where Steve would be having sex with Sam and then reminiscing about how it was with Bucky and wishing he were still with him, and y'all literally never saw how gross that was. Using Sam like a consolation prize. Now Steve is gone and you're still treating him like that.

And Sam and Bucky have never once treated each other like a stand-in for Steve. They treat each other like individuals with autonomy, and they even care for each other on the level that the other person needs it. It's actually really fucking good, the canon version of their relationship that's unfolded with the show. If y'all could let go of Steve for a second, literally, you would see how great Sambucky's dynamic is and that neither of them would ever see the other as "sloppy seconds" or some kind of consolation prize. It's gross.

Also, I hope Sarah gets that super soldier dick just to piss y'all off.

I'm done.

#TFATWS #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sarah Wilson #stucky #sambucky #shipping #mcu #marvel #stevesam #also if bucky was in wakanda for two years #you know he was gettin that wakandan goodgood #whether it was men women or enbies #he was enjoying some beautiful wakandan people #so you best believe he's definitely attracted to gorgeous ass sarah wilson #not because she's an extension of sam either #he can't decide which wilson sibling he likes #because he's a bi disaster #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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mismaeve · 3 years ago

Note

didn't realize i needed be to told i was cute until i saw this prompt so if i may humbly request character of your choice x reader with this prompt - “ you're really cute, you know. “ gender-neutral reader, if you don't mind 💕

Thank you so much for the ask. Now that I finally had time to write it, I had so much fun. I picked Thranduil for your imagine, so I hope you will enjoy this little drabble. I've never written him in this manner, so I hope the story makes sense. Anyway, I really do hope you like it. Please, kindly, let me know! 💕

↳ Only You, Thranduil x Gender!Neutral Reader, Modern AU Warnings: general fluff, suggestive language (maybe?), swearing Word Count: 800+ Gif Credit: @incomplete-coincidence

“I still cannot understand why you bother watching this nonsense,” Thranduil scoffed and rolled his eyes at the screen, clearly exasperated at the show you were currently watching. It didn’t take a genius to see that he wasn’t a fan of Game of Thrones. He would get especially worked up every time one of Daenerys’ dragons would come up on the screen. “It just feels so wrong, every fiber in my body is telling me that a dragon is no pet, let alone a child,” he would grumble under his breath, his hand going to rub the side of his face and neck. You began suspecting that Thranduil, because of Game of Thrones of all things, was developing a nervous tick. ㅤ “Will you relax, it’s just a show. I get that fun is an abstract concept to you, but you could still try, you know?” you teased with a smirk plastered across your features. You wondered if he knew that you secretly found his annoyed state amusing if not downright hilarious. The more worked up he got, the funnier it became for you. “Would you just look at her, straddling the fucking thing like it was no big deal,” he sounded almost horrified, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing. You stole a quick glance over at him and saw that Thranduil was shaking his head in disapproval. Clearly, the man was very unimpressed with the Dragon Queen. ㅤ The longer you watched him for from your seat on the couch, the more it seemed to you that he was actually uncomfortable with this evening’s source of entertainment. Giving it no second thought, you moved over to him, swinging your legs across his lap. Suddenly, it was no longer amusing, and you felt the need to comfort your man. Placing your head neatly in the crook of his neck, you snuggled close to him, breathing him in as you did. Sometimes you were convinced he smelled close to divine, like something that wasn’t from this world. You closed your eyes as you enjoyed his scent, something deeply earthy with a hint of wildflowers and freshly trimmed grass. ㅤ “You’re really cute, you know,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you in that much closer to him. “Even though I force you to watch Game of Thrones with me?” you asked him cheekily, lifting your head enough to be able to glance up at him. His pale eyes were watching you with a seriousness you had rarely seen before. “You’re the only one I would ever watch it with,” his tone matched the look in his eyes, making you feel unsure of whether he was joking or not. “You’re the only one I’d do a lot of things with,” he continued softly, his eyes lighting up some as his features seemed to relax. You felt so mesmerised by him, being so close with him always had a way of feeling deeply intoxicating. “Things like what?” a widely curious smile drew upon your lips as your eyes never left his. “Well, let’s see here, kisses for one,” he murmured quietly as he dipped his head and offered you a kiss so deep yet lovingly soft that it summoned a flock of butterflies in your stomach. You gasped when he broke your kiss at last, thinking that if he hadn’t allowed you to come up for air, you would have passed out from oxygen deprivation. And it would have been worth it. “Caressing your body,” he whispered sensually as his fingers found the skin on your neck, moving every so lightly, just barely touching. Thranduil’s long digits offered their feather-like touch all along your neck, and when they approached your hairline, it summoned pleasant goosebumps. You fought the shiver that had suddenly emerged from deep within, your body enjoying every moment of this. “Telling you I love you, is something else I’d do only for you,” he breathed out hot against the skin of your neck, only amplifying the already existing feeling of pleasure. “I’d only ever be with you,” his whisper was barely audible, if he hadn’t been so close, you wouldn’t have heard it at all. You smiled to yourself, still even after all this time, it baffled you how you had managed to get this lucky as to land such an amazing man like him.

The two of you fit so well together, it felt like it was always meant to be. Written in the stars. A touch of destiny or something else just as divine and powerful. “I love you too,” you murmured back at the man who had become everything to you. Just like you knew you had become his everything. It was truly a match made in heaven.

#requested content #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #thranduil x you #thranduil x gender neutral reader #thranduil x reader #thranduil modern au #thranduil imagine #thranduil fanfiction

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funkwhistle · 4 years ago

Text

Bruises

Pairing: Dutch Van Der Linde x fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of dubious content later

Prompt: 3.3k - Reader and Dutch being a secret thing in camp and at Clemens Point reader removes more clothes/changes and reveals these almighty hickeys and finger shaped bruises covering their body. - from @dragonwolf121 -

(Image is mine - don’t reupload without credit)

The hot summer rain had let up for a few minutes this morning, but it was back with vengeance by noon, drumming heavily on the tents and turning the usually dry grass in camp into muddy swathes. Cain loved these, of course, rolling in them and shaking mud on everything whenever he could. Miss Grimshaw had let you off any jobs which required you to leave the little shelter provided by the girls' wagon. Occasionally, someone left camp for some reason, and returned a few hours later looking dishevelled and like a drowned rat; even though the rain was warm, the air was cooling rapidly.

You were sitting cutting vegetables for the stew next to Tilly, watching as the rain created ripples on the lake. On the other side of camp, Arthur and Dutch were huddled, whispering, in the opening to the latter's tent, although it mostly involved pointing at the rain and scowling. As you were watching them, Dutch caught your eye and you could see the faintest hint of a smile crossing his face as he looked at you, turning back to the conversation before Arthur caught what he was looking at.

Just his look alone made you forget what you'd been doing, your heart dancing happily in your chest at the fact he was happy to see you. Chancing another glance, you could tell he wasn't as absorbed in the conversation as before, his eyes kept flitting to yours over Arthur's shoulder and he kept shifting awkwardly. You hoped he was thinking of what you were; how the pair of you had spent the majority of the last night.

You sighed as he moved, placing languid, open-mouthed kisses on your jawline. His hands held the top of your thighs, digging bruises into your skin as you straddled his lap on the bed, head tilted to the side to give him better access to your neck. The pair of you had been at this for a while, enjoying the comfort of the other's arms, and the soft kisses you placed on each other. Dutch, however, clearly had other ideas as he rolled his hips into yours, making you let out another breathy sigh, aware that all that was separating you from the rest of camp was four thin canvas walls.

“I've missed this,” he hummed, attacking your neck again with kisses which made your eyes flutter closed. He'd been away on a job with the Sheriff for a few days, and tonight was the first night the pair of you could reunite without suspicion. You couldn't remember how you'd lived at camp before seeing him, these illicit nighttime visits brought a thrill to your comparatively mundane life.

Much to your disappointment, however, he pulled away from you, allowing the both of you to catch a breath and look at the other's face; the pupils in his dark eyes were blown wide, and his usually well-pomaded hair was ruffled as a result of your roaming hands. You loved to see him like this, the usually powerful gang leader covered in smudged lipstick and eyes full of lust for you. Just thinking this made you smile, and you kissed him again, making him groan a little as you rolled your hips.

“Hello? Are you in there?” Tilly was waving her hand in front of your face, shaking you back into the present and making you realise you'd been staring into the distance, vegetables long forgotten in front of you. “What were you thinking about?” she asked, moving to sit beside you again, she was sewing Karen's dress which had a fresh tear in.

“Obviously it was something saucy, she's gone all red!” Mary-Beth laughed, throwing a cloth at you. You knew she loved the romance books, her nose always buried in one, driving Miss Grimshaw mad and making the rest of camp laugh. Shaking your head dismissively at Mary-Beth, you laughed their comments off, repressing the memory in favour of chopping tonight's stew vegetables.

The remainder of the afternoon passed without interest, the rain stopped as the evening drew in, allowing you to leave the wagon and walk around camp to stretch your legs. You'd walked to the edge of camp, sitting on a damp branch to look out over the lake when you heard footsteps behind you. Knowing you were outside camp now, you hand found the knife in your boot, wrapping your fingers around the familiar handle as the footsteps neared. Heart pounding, you spun around to point the knife at the oncoming stranger.

“Well, that's one way to greet me,” Dutch chuckled lightly, grabbing your hand and redirecting the knife away from his face as he walked to sit beside you on the log. You tucked the blade back into your boot, shuffling so he could sit comfortably, slightly embarrassed at your reaction to him approaching.

“You know someone could see us,” you objected, although you wished nothing more than for the pair of you to sit together for a little longer.

“Nobody dares to follow me out of camp aside from Hosea, and he's drinking again,” Dutch smiled a little as he said this, placing his hand on your knee, making your heart leap to your throat. Glancing behind you, you leaned so your head was on his shoulder, you felt him pressing a kiss onto the top of your head as you sighed in bliss, this was where you were happy.

You sat there for a while, enjoying listening to his breathing, and how his hands moved over your knee; both of you looking out over Flat Iron Lake, seeing birds on the island fight over some food, and, occasionally, a silver glimpse of a fish in the water. It was relaxing, and it took your mind off the worries of camp, or of the next job the man beside you was plotting.

This tranquillity didn't last long, however, and Dutch's hand kept riding higher and higher up your thigh, making your mind race into all manner of possible situations. Before you could say anything to him, he'd turned to look expectantly at you, indicating his lap. Happily, you straddled his lap, all previous inhibitions disregarded in anticipation to feel his lips on yours again. Even though he'd kissed you last night, you felt as though he was a drug you couldn't yet quit. And you didn't have to wait long, as he crashed his lips onto yours without hesitation.

Compared to the romantic, gentle kisses you'd exchanged last night, these were harsh and full of need from both of you - you'd been hiding this relationship since Blackwater. Quickly, the kisses moved from your lips to your jaw, to your neck. Then the kisses turned into gentle bites and licks, sure to leave their mark on tomorrow's skin. His hands found your thighs again, like last night, ensuring you couldn't move away from him as he continued his loving attack on your neck.

“We can't do this here,” you said, realising where this was headed and twisting away so you could look at him. “Someone could come and see us,” He nodded, placing a quick kiss upon your lips; while neither of you were happy with this decision, you moved from his lap, his hands still touching any part of you he could as you sat back down next to him.

“Come see me again tonight,” he said quietly, taking in his handiwork over your neck.

“I'll be late, I think Karen suspects something, she asked where I was last night,”

“I don't mind,” Dutch murmured, pressing a final kiss onto your cheek before he stood up, offering you a hand up as well. “I'll see you later my dear,” You smiled a little at his last statement, watching him disappear back through the trees to camp while you stood, thinking about him.

You pulled your coat up in order to hide the bruises forming on your neck, deciding to change as soon as you reached camp into something high-necked, praying nobody would speak to you as you did.

Fortunately, your prayers were answered, most of the camp was gathered around the campfire, making it easy for you to go to the wagon and change. Although as you snuck through camp, you could swear you had the attention of a Mr Van Der Linde who was very much enjoying your reaction. You could feel his smirk from across camp as you reemerged from changing, knowing he'd make a sarcastic remark about it tonight, before adding to the collection on your neck.

The night progressed, and you sat with the other girls, laughing over Sean's drunken singing and Uncle threatening to flash him if he doesn't shut up. You'd managed to drink a few beers, and everything was tinted with the blissfulness of feeling tipsy, somehow the awful jokes Bill told were funnier, and Lenny's dancing seemed almost professional. It wasn't until Miss Grimshaw came and told you all off for being up late did you go to bed, giggling over something trivial with Mary-Beth.

You removed the extra layers you'd been wearing, the darkness covering the bruises on your neck as you all settled onto the roll mats; praying the rain did not return overnight, the damp ground could be felt through your mat, but you were consoled by the fact you'd be nestled in Dutch's bed soon enough.

Fortunately, alcohol let the others get to sleep fast, Karen was soon snoring loudly, and you wiggled into a sitting position, so you could pull your coat around you and sneak to his tent. Javier and Micah were still sitting by the fire, so you made an effort to remain in the shadows, knowing if they realised where you were going you'd be subjected to endless teasing.

“Psst-” you hissed, fiddling fruitlessly with the catch on Dutch's tent, until you felt his fingers over yours, undoing it with ease and letting you into the warmth. The small wood burner was blazing, and some of his wet clothes were hung up to dry in front of it. You were endlessly jealous of this, your dresses had to dry at the whim of nature, praying it would remain sunny enough for them to dry before another rainfall. Dutch noticed you shiver a little at the temperature change, indicating for you to sit by the fire until you were warmer.

“Are you alright my dear?” he settled down beside you, wrapping you in his warm arms, sitting behind you on the pallet floor.

“I'm alright, just tired of the rain,”

He opened the book carefully in front of you, looking over your shoulder to read, his large hands engulfing the small book, rings shining in the light from the fire as he started to read.

“Me too,” Dutch replied, and after a little deliberation, he shifted from you, picking up something you couldn't see before moving back to wrap his arms around your waist.

“Can I read to you?” you nodded, noticing the book he had clasped in his hands, a well-worn copy you'd seen him read regularly, always seeming to be completely absorbed in it. You could feel him smile, knowing he loved nothing more than to speak about what he was reading with anyone who stood still long enough.

“The human race has travelled a long way, since those remote ages when men fashioned their rude implements…” you were only half listening to him, watching how the flames licked up the logs on the fire and revelled in the comfort of his arms. If you could sit here, blissfully warm in the arms of this man you could die in peace.

“…of flint and lived on the precarious spoils of hunting, leaving to their children for their only heritage…” Leaning your head, you rested it on his chest, letting it rise and fall in time with his breathing.

“…a shelter beneath the rocks, some poor utensils—and Nature, vast, unknown, and terrific, with whom they had to fight for their wretched existence.” Dutch paused for a moment, glancing down at you now, curled up with your head on his chest. As much as you were enjoying listening to him read, you were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to curl up and fall asleep here.

“Come on my dear,” Carefully, Dutch moved from behind you, scooping you up and transferring you from the warm spot on the fire to the comparatively soft bed. His hands carefully pulled you dress you'd neglected to remove earlier, his movements soft, as though you could be broken if he pulled too hard. You laughed a little as he fumbled with one of the clasps on your boot, and you leant down to undo it with ease, making him huff a little.

Once you were rid of your outerwear, you lay down, pulling some of the furs over you as you watched Dutch remove the many layers of shirts and expensive vests in exchange for a red union shirt. While he was undressing, he would carefully hang his clothes on a singular hanger, ensuring they would not get a crease in. Anything he could not hang, such as his treasured pocket watch and pipe, would sit on one of the crates beside the bed.

Dutch crawled under the covers with you, pulling you close so he could nestle his face in the crook of your neck, your back pressed to his chest. His breaths ghosted over the kisses he'd placed earlier, you could feel his eyelashes fluttering on your neck, sending shivers down your back. You shuffled to get comfortable, finding your eyes were beginning to drift shut. Quietly, behind you, Dutch's breathing was deeper, occasionally letting out a quiet snore as you drifted to sleep.

Morning light pierced its way into the tent, and you found yourself being shaken awake by Dutch. Not wanting to get up, you buried your face further into the bed, knowing you had to leave soon or you'd be caught out. Camp was stirring, Pearson could be heard tending to the fire and clanking bowls together for some breakfast; soon enough the other girls would be up, and then you'd have no reason for your absence.

“Come on dear,” Dutch was handing you clothes which you pulled on haphazardly, not caring if you looked presentable in them. He did your boots up as you pulled on your thick coat, you could say you'd been on a walk. As he stood up, he placed a kiss on your lips, pulling you to him before holding the opening to the tent, allowing you to leave. Quickly, you snuck out the tent, hurrying to the wagon, praying the others had not woken up yet and you could sneak into bed unnoticed - usually you wouldn't have stayed so long with Dutch, leaving in the early hours of the morning instead of at breakfast time.

Your prayers were not answered however, Karen was sat, propped against the wheel of the wagon, plaiting some grass. The other girls were still fast asleep, but you knew you'd have to lie to her. As you approached, she looked up, cocking an eyebrow at your dishevelled appearance and overnight disappearance.

“I went for a walk?” you whispered, careful not to wake anyone as you neared Karen, but she shook her head, before indicating you to follow her to the water's edge. You didn't have much choice in the matter, so you followed, thanking god that the ground was dry enough to walk on now.

“Where were you, if someone found out- they think there's a rat already-” Karen hissed, as you both looked out over the lake, glad for your warm coat as the cool morning breeze swept off the lake.

“Do you want my coat?” you offered, pulling it off your shoulders and handing it to her, which she accepted, pulling it around her. You stood there in silence for a little while, you could tell Karen was thinking, trying to put the pieces together. Before either of you could speak, you heard Micah yelling behind you,

“I just went for a walk, as I said,”

“I heard you leave last night, that's one long walk,” you threw her a glare at this, she'd caught you out, you didn't have an excuse for this. Karen looked pleased with herself, although she was shivering with cold - she was still wearing just a thin slip dress.

“Come on! Breakfast ain't gonna make itself is it ladies?” you could hear his footsteps approaching, ready to say something about Karen or you again. Both of you turned at the same time, watching as he sauntered down towards you; however, his approach was halted when he caught a glimpse of you. Not knowing what he was looking at, you checked your hair and dress, sure you didn't look amazing, but you weren't flashing anyone.

“Well, what have we here?” Micah ignored his favourite target, Karen, in favour of approaching you, almost standing on your toes he was so close. You could smell the stench of last night's alcohol on his breath, and his moustache had the remnants of last night's stew on it still, something you'd never wished to discover. His fingers ghosted over your neck before you realized what had caught his interest; the dress you were wearing was low cut, exposing the purpling bruises over your neck from yesterday.

“Who gave you these sweetheart?” he asked, his voice dripping in false sweetness, his hands roaming from the edge of your neck to the top of your dress. “Didn't realise you were quite this much of a whore?” you whispered this last word, his spit hitting the side of your face. Your heart was pounding, wanting nothing more than to smack the smirk off his face, but knowing if you did so he was stronger than you were.

Over his shoulder, Karen was averting her eyes, glad not to be the target of his merciless comments. By now, Micah was hissing about how much you charged in your ear, and you took a step back from him, feeling the water flood into your boots in an attempt to get away from him.

“Mister Bell,” a very familiar voice called loudly across camp, shocking the both of you and making him step back from you rapidly. Dutch was standing at the opening of his tent, his face dark with thunder at Micah, anger etched in every line. This was the first time you'd seen Micah listen to something someone said, as he backed away from you, not without a parting comment,

“Well, I guess we know who the lucky guy is then?” You swore under your breath at him, pulling at your dress as he walked away, towards Dutch's tent. Breathing deeply, your heart rate slowed, now that Micah was far from you and you could move from the water, feeling your boots squelch with each step they made. After Dutch's yelling, the whole camp was up, most of them unequivocally staring at you on the shoreline. You could feel your face heating up, knowing they could all see the bruises as well.

Karen offered your coat back to you, and you pulled it on, hiding your neck from inquisitive eyes as you both returned to the main camp. As you passed people, there were hushed whispers, rumours about where the bruises came from. Your face was hot, so you hid behind the wagon, changing into a high necked dress and attempting to silence the tears of shame that ran down your face.

A/N: This is the longest single chapter I’ve written (it’s not much at 3.3k, but I like shorter ones?), and this took a while. Also sorry about the Micah slander at the end, I’m writing a Micah fluff in some sort of redemption for that XD.

(ik I did not tag this as fem!reader at the start - it's been changed!)

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emperor-palpaminty · 4 years ago

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Admiration

If he was a storm, she was a hurricane. She cut through enemies swiftly, and Fives couldn't resist but watch in sheer admiration. Though he was a clone, he was never afraid of admitting the depths of his love for the jedi.

Well, in his mind. Whenever they actually had the moment, on a scouting mission alone together, or in the medbay, or in the throws of war and dragging one another from the grip of death, Fives never said a word about his love- but he felt as though his very glance would envelop her with the affection seeping from his gaze. Yes, he loved her, and everyone seemed to know about it but her. At least, if she did, she had not said anything. Sure, she had touched his arm briefly, even brushed her hand on his back and, yes, on that one scouting mission, she had let herself curl up in the cold night by him and allowed his warmth to protect her.

Fives didn't have much to lose. But she did. Her place in the order, her rank as a general, or, hell, if her master found out, she could be reassigned to another batallion. And there would be a better, braver, funnier Fives. And she would love him and they would have clone-Jedi babies.

It took him too long to realize he didn't need her to say yes- he just needed her to know.

Fives' stroll down the corridors to the hanger were interrupted by the lovliest string of swears he had ever heard- her melodic voice a juxtaposition of the curses, and it was the best song. He peered in, watching her hovering over a small astromech unit, sucking on her knuckle. "Uh oh. Someone having some trouble?"

The Jedi snorted, but cast him a small grin. "Shut up." When he laughed, she shook her head and sucked on her knuckle again, stepping away from the shut-down droid. "Yeah. He's being a stubborn little bastard." She insulted, voice raised, earning a disgunted and off-tone key beep. "He'd better straighten up." Her lips cocked and she sat against the closest A-Wing as Fives entered, glancing back behind him. They were alone- at peace.

"What mad plans does the Jedi have for taking over the battlefield?" Fives cocked a brow, sitting on the ship shell next to her, placing his hands behind him so he could have some balance. "Explosions? Stealth? You and I, lurking around, taking down the enemy?"

The jedi giggled and leaned back on her hands as well, making Fives painfully aware of how close they were, and the promimity made his his heart sputter. "I was thinking we could have a bad ass entrance. Come in, guns blazing-"

"You don't have a blaster."

"You'll let me have one." She smirked and batted her lashes at him. "What could a sweet little padawan do to a bunch of big, bad, droids anyways?"

"Ha! Loads." Fives raked a hand in his hair. "Trust me, you can do damage. Especially to my heart." He dramatically pressed a hand to his chest plate and the other to his forehead. "With your blaster, with you blast of love-" His poetry was cut short by a light punch and laugh from the jedi, which was shortly followed by a pained noise.

"Oh! That was my bad one."

It was shocking, how quickly he transformed from a joker into a caring and concerned man. Fives sprung up, bending over and grabbing her hand, examining it. "Shh, cyare," He mumbled, eyeing the botched knuckles. "I have some bacta on me." He offered a smile as he moved a hand to his belt, grabbing a pouch that had what she assumed were the bacta pads. His movements were soft, gentle, and the thumb that circled on her hand still made her swallow.

"Cyare?" She mumbled, glancing up at him. "What does that mean?"

The ARC trooper barely offered a moment of hesitation. "It's a term of endearment we use. It's mandalorian or some language. Something like that."

The Jedi pursed her lips, tilting her head to watch him, his thick curls bouncing on his forehead and the tattoo on his temple. "Can I call you Cyar?"

"Sure," Fives chuckled, his hand smoothing the bacta pad down gently on her skin.

The jedi paused, fighting a smile from her lips. Her thumb caught his hand before she whispered, "Or maybe I could call you cyar'ika, if you'll call me the same."

His head popped up in shock, smacking her nose. "Oh! Oh, ow!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," Fives grabbed her and glanced around. "Kriff, Kriff,"

The Jedi laughed, shaking her head and leaning her head back. "It's okay, Fives," Her voice came out half-snort-ish as she clutched her nose. "At least you didn't have your helmet on."

Fives stopped, looking down at her, voice softening. "If your nose wasn't bleeding, I would ask to kiss you. And I know you're a jedi-"

"Oh, Fives. When my nose stops bleeding, I'll let you." She laid her hand on his arm as he walked her out of the bay, towards the medic room. "My rank doesn not stop me, and it will not stop me, from kissing you."

#fives #clone trooper fives #fives x reader #jedi!reader #star wars #clone wars #clone wars reader insert #minty writes

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 4 years ago

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Prompt: You have always had a problem with self image. To you, there would always be someone prettier, someone funnier, someone more worthy of love, but to Fred, you are the most amazing person in the world, and he’s determined to make you see that.

A/N: I’M GOING THROUGH IT CAN YOU TELL??? Anyway, I really just wanted to feel loved, so I wrote Fred being amazing and stuff, so yeah! Also, Yule ball bc I fucking love writing it, its so cute and fun.

Warnings: Kind of angsty but ends fluffy, Swearing, so many commas, Fred being *soft*. SELF DEPRICATION!!! I truly believe everyone reading this is absolutely beautiful and kind and amazing in their own unique way, this is just how I be feeling sometimes.

You walked down the hallway, holding your books close to your chest and trying not to bump into anyone. You were headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, just wanting the day to be over.

For the past few weeks, all you could feel was dread. The Yule ball was coming up, and while a night full of dancing and music and having fun sounded amazing, you also knew you weren't going to be asked to go.

Now, you only had a week until the ball, and you were planning on how you were going to spend the night, probably reading, and talking with your owl, seeing nobody would be around.

You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You felt like no matter how many times you tried to be funny or open, you were always met with a closed door. No matter how much effort you put into your appearance, you ended up looking the same, or worse. No matter how much you studied, you were always a little more behind than you wanted to be. No matter what you did, someone was doing it better.

Of course nobody saw you that way, and especially not Fred Weasley. You had become good friends with the Weasley twins your first day at Hogwarts. You were all in the same year, and got along quite well, seeing the three of you all had a bit of a mischievous streak. But Fred noticed that over the years, you seemed less like yourself. You were more introverted, you didn’t laugh as openly as you used to, you didn’t smile as much, and it broke his heart.

Fred had developed a crush on you around 5th year. He loved everything about you, how your laugh was louder than others, how your eyes crinkled when you smiled, how you were kind and open to everyone you met, how you were able to make him laugh, but also take him seriously when he was hurting. Of course George started to notice, and would tease him constantly.

“Just ask her out!” George would say, which would just make the older red head smile but shake his head.

“If she said no it would ruin our friendship, I don’t want to lose her” Fred would say, wishing situations would be different.

However, Fred was now watching you as you sped walked down the hallway to the common room. He could tell something was off, so he shouldered George, signaling that he was going to break off for a bit, before following you into the common room.

You quickly muttered the password and went inside. The common room was empty, which was a huge plus for you, not wanting to be social for the rest of the day. You took no time plopping your things down before laying back on one of the couches. Maybe now you could get some reading done in peace and not have to think about-

“Hey, are you ok?” Fred asked. you hadn’t heard him walk in and the sound of his voice made you jump.

“Oh! Fred, uh yeah, yeah I’m fine why?” You asked, heart beating quickly but not because of the recent scare.

You had also been crushing on the Older Weasley twin for a while. You loved how he always wanted to make you smile, even on the days you thought nothing could make you feel better. He introduced you to his family, who you love dearly, and also made you feel somewhat appreciated. Like you knew that he wanted you around. Of course you would never tell him your feelings, too afraid that he would reject you, and ruin your friendship.

“Well, I saw you walking in here and I thought you looked a little overwhelmed, so I wanted to see if there was anything I could do?” Fred asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Really its nothing, my brain is just somewhere else today I guess” You said, trying to move past the topic.

“Well I’m all ears if you want to talk” He said, coming over and sitting across from you on the same couch you were currently resting on.

There was a part of you that didn’t want to bother him. That he would surely be uninterested in any personal problems you may be having. But then there was another part of you who knew him as your oldest friend. As the person who has been by your side through everything, and suddenly before you could stop yourself, the words were tumbling out of your mouth.

“Its stupid, but I’m just bummed out that I’m not going to the Yule ball” You said, causing Fred's eyes to widen a bit but you didn’t notice, too busy looking down at your hands.

“Why aren't you going?” Fred asked

“Well I was thinking of just going with some friends, but most of my friends already have dates and going alone would look lame as fuck. So I think I would rather just stay in and read or something” You said, shrugging a bit.

“Well I don't have a date” Fred said, taking you both by surprise.

“You don't?” You asked, genuinely surprised he hadn’t asked someone, or at least been asked by some other girls who you knew where fawning over him. In reality, Fred was thinking about how he would ask you, and whether or not you already had a date.

“Nope, so if you want we can go together so you we don’t have to suffer alone all night” Fred said, adding some humor to the conversation. You smiled at him, before thinking it over.

“He’s only asking you as a friend” You thought to yourself.

“Sure! God knows what kind of trouble you would get into having to spend a whole night alone” You said, causing the both of you to laugh a bit.

“Great, so I’ll see you there?” He asked, to which you nodded your head.

“I’ll be there” You said smiling, before Fred rose to rejoin George, and tell him about the best thing that has happened to him all year.

The rest of the week went by in a flash. You and Fred were each to busy with either school or quidditch practice to really talk to each other, and you barely had time to go out and find a dress, but finally, the Yule ball was here, and you were freaking out.

“What the fuck am I doing?” You practically yelled to Angelina, who was sitting on her bed watching and you paced back and forward in your dress.

“You’re going on a date with the guy you’ve had a crush on since first year. What's the problem?” Angelina asked

“It wasn’t since first year!” You defended, before adding “And the problem is that I’m probably in love with him, and he probably thinks were only going together as friends, and I’m going to have to see him, and talk to him, and dance with him for HOURS while trying not to look like an idiot!”

“Y/n, I promise you wont look like an idiot, you look hot as hell” She said. You sent a look her way, causing her to laugh. “I’m being serious! this dress looks amazing on you, your hair is perfect, and I did your makeup so you know it could be better if you tried, you’re going to be great, so shut up and get your shoes on they’re waiting for us”

“Fine you said, finally stopping your pacing and taking a deep breath. What's the worst that could happen? A lot, but still, try and think positive.

Fred was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase waiting for you and Angelina to come down, Angelina being Georges date. Fred however couldn’t stop fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, which was starting to annoy George.

“Mate seriously, just chill out I’m sure everything's fine” George said, trying to somewhat relive his brothers anxiety.

“I know, I know, but what if she changed her mind, or-” Fred started, about to go off on a rant before being stopped when a sharp elbow jabbed him in the ribs. Fred was about to go off on George for the stab, but before he could he followed his eyes to the staircase, on which you and Angelina were currently walking down.

You looked amazing. Your hair framed your face perfectly, your dress coming down to your ankles and the color complimenting your skin tone. You were wearing heels, which only made you slightly taller but still, it was a few more inches that allowed you and Fred to almost be face to face. He was absolutely gobsmacked.

You were walking down the stairs, desperately trying not to trip with these shoes which you were not used to wearing and taking in the sight of Fred. He was wearing a dashing suit, and you could tell he had done his hair a bit, but besides that he was still Fred, the same Fred that made you laugh and made you feel wanted. The same Fred you fell in love with.

You finally reached the bottom of the stairs and came face to face with Fred, who still hasn’t said a word, the mere sight of you making his brain short circuit.

“Wow that bad?” You asked jokingly, but deep down you were a little worried about his lack of a reaction.

“What? No! No, you look amazing!” Fred said quickly, causing you to smile and blush a bit.

“Why thank you, you don't look to bad yourself” You said, and Fred couldn’t help but smile back.

“Shall we?” He asked, sticking out his left arm which you accepted.

“We shall” You said, causing the both of you to laugh before walking into the ball room.

The night was everything you expected and more. There was dancing and amazing music, and every once in a while you and Fred would just take a break and talk.

You were laughing with Fred about new prank idea when something caught your eye. There where two girls on the opposite side of the room, looking at the two of you and whispering to each other. Immediately your anxiety got the better of you, and all confidence you had gained during the ball now seemed to disappear.

“Would you excuse me for a second?” You asked, causing Fred’s eyes to furrow before he nodded, allowing you to pass him and walk out of the ball room. Fred watched as you left, before turning and making eye contact with George, who then made a hand motion at him to go follow you. So without thinking, he took off and tried to find where you went.

You were now standing outside, your elbows resting on a stone wall as you looked over the grounds, letting the cool autumn air wash over your skin and calm your nerves. You tried to relax but your mind couldn’t help but wander. This was stupid, you shouldn’t have come, you should have just stayed in your room and-

“Hey, are you ok?” Fred asked walking towards you, again causing you to jump a bit

“Hey Fred, yeah I’m ok I just wanted to get some air. You can go back if you want I wont mind” You said, trying to calm your breathing.

“Well I’m not going back without my date” Fred said goofily, coming to stand next to you and rest him arms by yours, but you didn’t laugh, just shook your head.

“You don’t have to call me your date Fred, I know you only asked me as a friend, so you don’t have to call this something its not” You said.

“What?” Fred asked, genuinely confused as to what you were talking about.

“Come on Fred, I know you only asked me because you felt bad. You didn’t have to waste your night on me I’m sure there are plenty of other girls you would have rather gone with” You said, still not looking at him.

“Why would I want to go with anyone else Y/n? You’re my best friend” Fred said, trying to make his feelings clear without actually having to say them just in case things didn’t go in the direction he wanted.

“Exactly, I’m your friend. You’ll only ever see me as a friend. You should be here with someone you like, someone you care about, someone who makes you happy and who you want to dance with and who you want to spend your time with” You said

“I already think all of that when I’m with you” Fred said, still not quite sure what you were saying.

“No you don't, not romantically. You could have asked any girl you wanted to come to the ball with you. Girls who are much prettier and funnier and more outgoing than me. Someone who you don’t have to ask out because you feel bad, but someone who you actually want to be with” you said, quickly wiping some tears that were threatening to fall.

Suddenly all the pieces came together for Fred. Why you had been so distant as of late, why you hadn’t been being yourself, why you seemed so low all the time. It was because at some point along the way, you developed an image of yourself that you weren’t good enough, or pretty enough, or funny enough. An image that wasn’t true, and to Fred, you were all of those things and more.

“Y/n, please look at me” Fred said, causing you to let out a breath before finally meeting his eye.

Your eyes shone from your recent tears, making them that much brighter, the moonlight danced off your skin and made your face seem to glow. Fred saw you, and saw the person he loved, and the person he needed to show was everything he would ever want. He took a deep breath, before bringing his hands up to cup your face and closing the space between you two, connecting his lips to yours.

You took a second to respond, mostly because you were in your head thinking ‘what the fuck, is this actually happening?!’ but then you took no time to melt into his touch, moving to hold his arms. After a while, you both finally pulled away, Fred looking into your eyes and smiling.

“Y/N, you are the funniest, most beautiful, most kind person I have ever known. I knew when I met you on our first day, I knew when I fell for you in fifth year, and I knew when I asked you to the ball last week. There is no one here I would rather be with than you” Fred said, causing tears to well in your eyes but this time in happiness.

“You had a crush for me in fifth year?” You asked, making both you and Fred laugh.

“Yes, and for some reason I still do, but hey if you don’t feel the same way I can just-” Fred started but you cut him off, grabbing his suit coat and bringing his lips down to meet yours again.

“I like you too” you said, quickly breaking the kiss to speak, “since sixth year”

“So, technically speaking you could say that I like you more than” Fred said, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t ruin the moment” You joked, causing the two of you to laugh before re connecting your lips again.

The Yule ball was absolutely better than you could have ever expected.

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Woooooo I hope you liked it! But yeah if you read this and really connected with it in the “I’m not feeling great about myself” kind of way, my DMs are always open, and I’m always happy to talk, so feel free to hmu. I love you all, you’re all amazing and beautiful and awesome, and thank you for reading <3

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic

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bordeleaubeau · 4 years ago

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my ex’s best friend - trevor zegras

wc: 4212

trigger warning: talks about the loss of a parent and being walked out on.

based on my ex’s best friend by blackbear and mgk:)

“god i cannot wait for jack to be here!” jordan gushes as she runs her hand through her hair, messing up her curls just enough. “it’s been so long, and i know he’s definitely gone to parties back in michigan, but college parties are so much more better. not that he’d know that though.”

you laugh louder than you mean to, but you can’t help but agree with your best friend. jack and you had grown up together in michigan and you were so close that you were basically ellen’s honorary daughter. it also helped you had played for little caesars girl’s team, so you’d occasionally see the youngest hughes every now and then. with that, you got a scholarship offer from harvard and the rest was history.

now, this is where things get more interesting. you introduced jordan and jack, instantly thinking that jordan would be nothing other than a hookup. but jack had taken a serious liking to her and vice versa, which eventually led to them dating after just two months of them knowing each other.

and now here you were, standing in your best friend’s boston university dorm room waiting for your childhood best friend to arrive for the start of his road trip. “he should be here any minute now, jo. newark isn’t that far and-”

you’re cut off by a squeal coming from the brunette, and she’s popping up from her bed. “he’s here!” and just like that, she’s gone and leaving you to sprint after her down the hall to let jack into the building.

you’re laughing following after, no doubt driving the people on the floor below you insane by the sounds of your feet thudding against the carpeted floor. the two of you race down the stairwell until jordan throws open the side door where the first overall stood, a glowing smile on his face at the sight of his two girls.

you stand back, allowing jack and jordan a moment. the two exchange a few words followed by a brief peck to the lips before they release each other from their hold. then it’s your turn, and you’re smiling as you wrap your arms around jack.

“hi jacky,” you mumble into his chest, feeling him quickly kiss the top of your head.

“hey kid, how’ve you been holding up?” god, you wish you didn’t know what he was referring to. but you knew right away.

behind you, jordan is frantically shaking her head with wide eyes trying to take away from the topic. you draw away from jack, trying to find the words. “it still, it still hurts, i guess. but i’m okay, promise.” you give jack a weak smile, one you know he sees right through seeing as he knew you for almost all your life. “are we gonna go or what?”

“yeah jacky, i think it’s time you experience a real party, not one of those dumb little high school parties.” jordan teases her boyfriend and you smile, watching as she links her arm with his. “plus, y/n goes to that smart person school that like, no one has ever heard of before and i heard they don’t know how to have a proper party.” she throws you a smile over her shoulder and you roll your eyes with a smile on your face. if anyone could poke fun at you like that, it was jordan. jordan and jack. and that’s why they made such a perfect couple - jordan was just like jack, so when you didn’t have jack you pretty much had the girl version of him right at your own disposal.

the three of you walk towards where the party of the night is at, letting jordan lead the way seeing as she was the only one that knew where she was going. you knew you’d definitely have a few friends there, and some old ones as well.

“is uh, is you know who going to be there?” you hear jack quietly ask and you swallow hard. you knew he was just trying to be nice by not saying his name, but not saying it only made it feel more real.

“um, i don’t know. i don’t think so. i talked to dom in econ today, they had a big game tonight so they’re probably tired. but i’m not sure, i haven’t talked to him in the past few days.” you cross your arms over your chest, looking to the right towards the street to try and blink the building tears in your eyes away. you shouldn’t feel this way. it was your fault anyway. right?

you keep quiet, trying to distract yourself in any way you possibly could. what you had said was true - you did prefer bu’s parties to harvard’s. there was something about going to a party and being that mysterious girl that could hook up with any guy and him not know anything about you. he couldn’t find you in classes if he was that interested. you couldn’t exactly do that at harvard, being so well known on both campus and the ice.

maybe that was what you needed. a distraction for the night. you were certainly dressed to earn some turned heads, and you were sure you were going to end up using that to your advantage at some point that night.

the three of you walk into the party a few minutes later and right away you have a bad feeling. at that moment you feel like you should trust your gut and just walk away, but you know you can’t just ditch your best friends like that.

jordan turns, yelling over the music. “what do you want to drink? whiteclaw good? me and jack will grab it and then we can all meet up by the living room?”

you nod, giving her a thumbs up not exactly feeling up to yelling over the music. you already felt sick to your stomach, and you weren’t sure the effects of the alcohol would help with this one.

“y/n!” you hear your name being yelled and you quickly turn to see a familiar blonde, and a smile graces your face.

“hey ry!” you move in to hug her, your arms wrapping around her quickly. you met ryley through jordan, of course, and she had to be one of the sweetest girls you had ever met. she was always willing to go the extra mile if necessary. “how’ve you been, babe?”

she shrugs, followed by an exaggerated eye roll. “same old same old. you know how it is. but how are you? you look hot by the way! i’ve already seen like, five guys that can’t keep their eyes off you!”

“i’m doing alright, just waiting for jack and jo. jack’s in town to play the bruins, so he came up for the night to see jo.” ryley nods along with your words, and before she can respond you see jack and jordan walking up from behind, two white cans in jordan’s hands and a giddy smile on her face.

“ryley!” jordan squeals, throwing her arms around the blonde. “ryley you’ve met jack before. don’t have to worry about that one.” you let out a laugh and jordan hands you the mango flavored seltzer and you thank her. “i think jack and i are gonna go play beer pong if you wanna find a partner and play us?”

you purse your lips, trying to think for a second before you ultimately decide to shake your head. “nah, i’m all good. i might play later though.”

“come dance with me and some of the girls then!” ryley smiles, gesturing her head towards the living room where there are plenty of sweaty bodies dancing on one another. you nod your head, accepting her offer.

“i’ll find you in a bit jo! go have fun you two.” jordan smiles at you, blowing you a fake kiss before she pulls jack towards one of the back rooms where you’re sure she’s already scoped out a beer pong table.

you know pretty much all the girls that are all dancing together - there’s amber, then there’s hayden, bella, and then maddie. all fairly sweet girls that you had had multiple encounters with and they were friendly each and every time.

“hi y/n!” bella grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you right into their little group. she glances down at your hand and she gives you a look. “honey you haven’t even-” she stops herself, grabbing your whiteclaw right out of your hand and she cracks it open. “just for that you’ve gotta chug, babe. sorry i don’t make the rules. you’re already slacking.”

“bella!” you laugh, most of it being drowned out by whatever soundcloud remix was being played, but nonetheless you still take the can from her and lift it to your lips, tilting your head back as you drink as much of it as you possibly can.

“that’s our girl!” ryley cheers you on, along with the other girls, and as soon as you empty the contents of your can you’re in a fit of giggles, shaking your head at the girls in front of you.

“you guys are too much, i swear.” you say, setting the empty can on a table behind you that was already littered with plenty of cans. one extra wouldn’t hurt. “you guys are so much better than my harvard friends.”

“which is exactly why you should transfer!” maddie exclaims, her hands going up to emphasize her statement along with a smile.

you jut your bottom lip out, and before you can say anything ryley beats you to it. “she plays a sport, mads. it’s not exactly that easy.”

“nu uh! wait a damn minute, but didn’t you have an offer from bu?” bella puts her hands on her hips, raising one of her eyebrows at you, and you can’t help but laugh at the feeling of being interrogated. if only they knew the whole story.

“i go to harvard solely for hockey. i can’t help that i liked harvard’s staff and coaches better than bu’s!” you defend yourself, but bella isn’t having any of it as she raises one of her hands to your face. “bella, come on.”

“no, no, i don’t wanna hear it. wanted to go to school with snobby rich kids instead of snobby cool kids! i get it!” all four of you are laughing, but it’s probably the alcohol making the situation funnier than it actually was.

you give bella a quick look, “if i wanted to go to school with snobby cool kids then i would’ve gone to bc.” your fit of laughter only intensifies at the look of pure betrayal. bella raises her hand, finger pointing behind your shoulder.

“the door is that way. i think you got lost. don’t let the door hit you on the way out, y/n. actually, i hope it hits you. maybe it’ll knock some sense into your head.” you can only giggle, and it only takes a few seconds before bella’s mean facade falls and she’s laughing as well.

“bel, come with me to grab another drink.” you gesture for her to follow you and she does, singing loudly - and poorly - to ucla. you only join in with her, laughing as the two of you make your way into the backyard where the coolers were. “god, it feels so much better out here.” you grumble, opening one and grabbing a whiteclaw for bella before grabbing one for yourself.

“we can stay out here for a bit, i don’t mind.” bella says, cracking the top of her can and taking a quick sip. “how have you been? after the whole… yeah. and with jack being here, i wasn’t sure if-“

you cut her off and shake her head. “i’m okay. everyone thinks i’m not okay but i, i am. we weren’t together long anyway.”

bella’s eyebrows raise, “y/n. you and trevor were together for over a year, it’s okay if you’re upset! no one would blame you, not one bit. besides, you were really happy with him. everyone wanted to be you two.” you purse your lips, eyes glued to the ground. you met bella the week of the break up, when everything went down, and you had spilled practically everything to her, maddie, hayden, and ryley. and of course jordan.

“i promise bel, i’m doing good. never been better, actually. might just go and hook up with one of his teammates if one’s here, honestly.” bella laughs, nodding her head to agree with your statement. “let's go back in. we’re probably missing, honestly god knows what.”

you go to walk in the house, but bella grabs your wrist to pull you back. “seriously, y/n/n. if you ever need to talk, and you can’t tell jordan because of jack being friends with him, please just know i’m here. right across the river, quite literally, too.” she gives you a soft smile, one that you return.

“thank you bel, i appreciate it.” with one last smile the two of you walk back into the house. “i’m gonna use the bathroom, but i’ll be right back, okay?”

bella nods and the two of you disperse, you heading one way and her the other towards the living room. you end up in the back room, walking towards where you’re assuming the bathroom is, but get stopped by jordan who’s hanging off jack’s arm. “oh y/n/n!” your best friend sings. “dom needs a beer pong partner and i think that you’re the perfect candidate!” she slurs ever so slightly, leaning more into jack. part of you wants to decline, but dom is giving you a cute smile that you just can’t ignore.

“fine.” you sigh, walking over to the table, “long time no see, dom. thought you guys had a game tonight?”

dom shrugs, “we won, so some of us decided to come out and celebrate. probably won’t stay out for too long, you know?” you nod along with him, taking a sip of your drink.

“i get it. and i don’t blame you. i’m dead after games, so kudos to you.” dom chuckles, motioning towards the table.

“we’ve got to come see a game some time. heard you guys aren’t half bad.” you nearly choke on your drink from trying to hold your laugh in, which just makes dom laugh. “what! i’m telling the truth!”

“not as good as bu, that’s for sure. so you’re funny, fensore.” you smile into your drink, eyes glancing behind jordan’s shoulder, and that’s where your entire world comes crashing down.

the second dom said some of the guys were here, you should’ve automatically assumed he’d be here. that’s just the type of guy trevor was - big win? celebrate with a party and end up getting laid by the end of the night. you weren’t surprised.

your initial glance turns into a full on stare, and trevor must feel it. he looks over the shoulder of whoever he’s talking to and his eyes meet yours - and the words you never spoke? he could see them in your eyes. everything you never said was practically laid right out on the table.

“i swear to god, i never fall in love, but, but then you showed up and i can’t get enough of it.” trevor’s words make you freeze, and upon feeling your body go stiff on top of him his hand that’s running up and down your side freezes as well. “y/n?”

“what did, what did you say, trevor?” you ask, picking your head up to look down at the brunette, a look of pure confusion on his face. the poor boy had no idea what he had done wrong - he didn’t think he had done anything wrong in fact.

trevor swallows hard, sitting up more so his back is resting against the wall of your dorm room. “i said that i love you, y/n.” he lets out a soft chuckle. “i thought that was obvious by now, i mean, we’ve been together all this time and i just-”

“we weren’t official for a few good months, trev,” you shake your head as you speak. “and that was because of you. you didn’t want to be official for like, five months.”

“which is -” he cuts himself off. “i don’t even know what’s going on. do you not believe me? what’s the deal here? because the fact we’ve been together this long and this is the first time i’m saying it, the first girl i’m ever saying it to, that should just support everything.”

you just couldn’t get yourself to say it. internally, you knew that every single bone in your body was desperately in love with trevor zegras. dozens of journal pages had ink scrawled on them, gushing in detail about all the lovely things he had done for you that day. but mentally? mentally you couldn’t let yourself believe you loved him. you couldn’t give him the willpower to absolutely destroy you if he ever so pleased. not after your family had come crashing down, and especially not after your mother had walked out. how could a mother walk out on her own blood that easily? her own child, that she claimed that she loved with all her heart.

“y/n do you not, do you not love me?” the pain in his eyes absolutely shattered you and had your heart aching. you wanted to tell him. but you couldn’t form the words. your silence, however, spoke volumes and trevor nods. “i can’t be with you, then.” he scoffs, shaking his head. “i can’t be with someone that doesn’t love me. not when i’ve put all my energy and love into them, and i’m, and i’m not getting any of that in return.”

“trevor i’m sorry.” those weren’t the three words he wanted to hear. they were three words, of course. but they weren’t the right ones. it’s a miracle you can even apologize to him, voice cracking as the tears form in your eyes.

trevor shakes his head, pushing himself up from your bed. “i’m done. i’ll see you around, y/n.”

you stumble backwards a few steps before completely turning around and leaving the room quickly, the sounds of all three of your friends calling after you drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

you see bella and ryley start after you, but you make a b-line for the backyard in an effort to try and ditch some of your friends that you knew were most likely trying to follow you out. but you weren’t sure if you could handle that, and you sure as hell were sure you wouldn’t be able to handle the breakdown that was about to happen.

as soon as you’re outside you lose it. you’re bawling right away, and you’re sure those around you thought you may be absolutely insane for breaking down in tears that quickly. your vision is blurred, but you see a figure walking towards you. you may not be able to make the figure out, but as soon as they pull you into their chest you know who it is.

“shh, you’re okay, y/n. i’ve got you, okay?” jack coos quietly, his hand combing through your hair trying desperately to calm you down. “i’ve got you, i promise. god i’m, i’m so sorry. we didn’t know trevor would be here. jo didn’t realize he was right there either, y/n/n.”

you can’t get any words out, sobs wrecking your entire body as you cry into jack’s chest. all he can do is run his hand down your back and try to reassure you that you’re okay, but it would take a lot more than that.

“y/n can we talk?” your whole body goes rigid and jack’s hand on your back freezes. you pull away from him, looking over his shoulder to see trevor. when he sees your tear stricken face, his eyes soften. “please. can we talk.”

jack looks down at you, a questioning look on his face asking if it’s okay. you nod, and jack presses a kiss to your head. “i’ll be right inside if you need me.” once again, you nod, and jack gives you one last squeeze before he’s walking inside. right away you cross your arms over your stomach, suddenly feeling chilly and more exposed than you had inside. your cropped cami and ripped jeans weren’t doing it anymore.

trevor hesitates, his lips pursing for a second as he steps a few feet forward. he’s trying to find the words to say, and finally, he lets them out. “jordan told me.” you take in a sharp breath, feeling your bottom lip start to tremble, trevor takes a few steps forward, and you let him wrap his arms around you. “i’m so sorry, god i am so, so sorry, y/n. i was a dick, i should have talked to you about it before just breaking up with you, i just, god i’m so sorry.”

you melt into him, arms slowly wrapping around his torso as you cry against him. his voice is genuine and sincere. you nod against him, letting him know that you’re okay - as good as you can be - and to let him know it’s okay.

“can we go talk? somewhere in private? i was just about to go back to my dorm if you’d wanna come.” you were lying if you’d say you weren’t hesitant. because you were. it was probably going to be a bad idea, but nonetheless you go against your better judgement.

“yeah. yeah that’s okay.” you manager to croak out and pull away from trevor’s chest. you don’t get very far however, his hands go to your cheeks and his thumbs run underneath your eyes to catch any tears.

trevor then lets his hand fall to yours, intertwining your fingers and pulling you into the house. “we’re gonna go back to my dorm, to talk.” trevor says, looking at jack. his eyes move over to yours, silently asking you if it’s okay with you.

“it’s okay, j,” you reassure him. “we’ll see you guys tomorrow or something, okay?” jordan and jack both nod, and trevor is leading you out of the house towards the street.

it’s quiet for a few moments, and you don’t blame him. it’s the first time other than social media that you’ve seen him in four months and it wasn’t necessarily under the best conditions. you would’ve liked it to not be at a party - but it is what it is.

“i understand why you didn’t tell me, y/n.” trevor breaks the silence, and you glance over at him to see him staring straight ahead. “and i don’t blame you for it, either. i knew your mom wasn’t in your life, and of course i didn’t want to ask why. but i wish you had told me. god i just, i want to show you the love you deserve, y/n. i want to love you. i do love you. i just, i need to prove that to you and i’ll take as long as it takes.”

you squeeze trevor’s hand, and you’re thankful that trevor’s dorm is only right down the street. the night is chillier than it was when you first left for the party and you were cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. “i know you do. i just, i panicked. you’re the first boy i was ever serious with, and no one other than my parents and friends of course told me they loved me. i never felt like i was capable of love, because, how could my own mom claim that she loved me, but then one day just disappeared from my life? her own child. that she gave birth to. she never loved me, trev. not if she did that.

“then it’s her loss, isn’t it? wherever she is, she’s gonna see your name, y/n m/n. she’s gonna see the amazing, incredible, phenomenal girl that you’ve become. the same girl that’s going to change the world some day. and i hope she’s kicking herself everyday for walking out on you and your dad, but god you guys are so much better without her in your lives. i love you, y/n. i never stopped.” trevor halts in his tracks, making you come to a stop as well. “and i want you. i want all of you. your good days, your bad days, the days you don’t feel lovable. and it is perfectly okay if you don’t say you love me back, because we can work on that. i’ll stay. i promise. you have my word.

you practically throw yourself into his chest, arms wrapping around his neck and your fingers curling in his hair. “i’m gonna hold you to this, z.”

“do you wanna stay the night?” he asks quietly, his hand running through your hair. “we can do more talking, if you’d like. i’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“i’d like that, trev. i’d like that a lot.” you answer quietly, looking up at the boy that’s already looking down at you.

the boy that you love.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine

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letsbenditlikebennett · 3 years ago

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Gold Digger || Ari & Kitty

TIMING: Current-ish PARTIES: @kallmekitty & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ari goes to crash in Kitty’s room after some nightmares and they hear something outside. In a true Ari & Kitty fashion, they now have a new pet. CONTENT: Sibling Death

The nightmares had become routine at this point. Ari would spend thirty minutes before bed trying to fill her mind with positive thoughts yet no matter how hard she tried, just a couple of hours she’d shoot up in bed with a sheen of sweat covering her body. Tonight was no different and she felt the cracks in the foundation becoming worse. She was so exhausted and hugged her pillow pleading for her mind to just allow her to sleep. Physically and mentally, she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take, so in an effort to maybe get more than a couple hours of sleep, she quietly padded over to Kitty’s room and knocked softly. With an indication she could come in, Ari opened the door and asked, “Do you mind if I crash in here? I– Bad dreams.”

Kitty hadn’t gone to sleep after she got off the phone with her family, instead choosing to stay up a little later. Her brother had wanted to watch some new horror movie that had just come out, and horror just couldn’t scare her quite right anymore, so she’d agreed. It wasn’t the movie that kept her up. She was just missing home a bit more than usual. She liked White Crest well enough, the people in it moreso, but she’d never really thought about leaving home on her own. The only person she would have left with was gone, though, and that was her fault. Kitty wasn’t one for pity parties, but she missed Parker. She missed her best friend. She missed the boy she loved, even if it had never been the way that folks had wanted. So she rubbed at her eyes and put on a smile when Ari walked in, pulling back the covers and patting the unoccupied side of the bed. “Course,” she said. “Get in here. I told you, I’ll kick your bad dreams’ ass.”

Ari managed a weak smile as Kitty talked about kicking some dream ass. If anyone could manage as much, it’d be Kitty. She always found it easy to slip into a playful rhythm with the other wolf and pretend like the world was all fun. They both knew it wasn’t, but as she padded into Kitty’s bed, she wanted to allow herself to believe as much for a minute. She was a bit surprised to find her roommate still away. She’d been pulling a lot of shifts at the diner lately so it was hard to have a good grip on her schedule. As she laid down and rested her head on her hand, she noted, “I wasn’t expecting you to still be up. I know your name’s Kitty, but I swear Flippd has been working you like a dog.” She cracked a smile at the stupid joke. It still fell a bit flat and she let out a sigh. “I think it’s more me and my own head that needs its ass kicked. Guess all the shit I didn’t want to process had to catch up to me eventually or something.”

Laughing at the joke, Kitty said, “They must know I’m actually a wolf. The name’s just a cover up.” She had been working a lot lately, though. She didn’t know why, some sort of desire to make sure that she and the rest of the house were provided for, maybe. Farm’s needed maintenance, and maintenance needed money, and money needed hard work in order to get anything done. It was something to devote her time to, Kitty realized, something to think about. “My brother wanted to watch a movie. We were FaceTiming.” She said by way of an explanation. She looked at Ari in concern, though, glancing over at her in concern. “You want to talk about it?”

That was one of the things Ari loved about Kitty. She could always go along with a joke meant to lighten the mood. Usually always had an even funnier joke of her own to contribute. It made her company easy, soothing even. She laughed along and snuggled into the warm blankets. She was glad Kitty was having some time with her brother. It had to be hard being so far away from her family. She sometimes wondered if turning into a werewolf was what made Kitty leave in the first place. Maybe one day she’d know, but it didn’t feel like something to push. “That sounds like a nice time,” she said wistfully. It made her miss nights on the sofa under blankets sleepily watching movies with her own sister. She took a moment to ponder Kitty’s question. Talking about it was probably a good idea, but even that made her feel a pang of guilt. She was supposed to be the one looking out for Kitty and it really felt like Kitty was more her rock than anything else. Maybe if she at least admitted some of it, she’d feel better. Even just being able to sleep more than a couple of hours would be enough. “Yes and no,” she answered with a sigh, “More like it’s just a lot. I guess my whole life has kind of felt like a slow spiral since I lost my sister a couple years ago. Everyone just sort of keeps dying and so much of it was my fault. Celeste died protecting me. Sammy died because I tried to save him. Todd was only brought on to be a fae meal because Sammy was dead. Alcher…”

Ari felt her voice crack with the last one. Kitty deserved Alcher here, not her. She took a deep breath. “I should have gotten between them. I shouldn’t have just trusted Kaden would stop just because I begged him too. And I know Alcher would hate me for forgiving him, but it’s not that simple.” She burrowed further into the blanket as if that could hide her from any disappointment that admission would bring. It wouldn’t be unearned, the image of Alcher that haunted her told her as much every day.

“It was a shit movie,” Kitty said fondly before she moved the blankets around Ari, trying not to appear like she was fussing over her even if she was. Kitty wasn’t maternal, but she did care about her friends, and she wanted to make sure that Ari was comfortable, especially with what she was going through. She listened as Ari spoke, her face turning somber. That was so much weight to put on Ari’s thin shoulders. Kitty knew Ari wasn’t a kid anymore than she was, but, God, the girl looked so young sometimes. She looked so haunted sometimes. Both of them were a little haunted. Both of them had a little too much on their shoulders. Kitty could understand. She understood. That was why she shook her head. “Honey, none of that’s your fault. It ain’t on you unless you’re the one that does it.” That was why Kitty knew she was responsible for Parker.

Kitty sighed. “Or you could have died. You don’t know what would have happened.” Kitty still didn’t understand what happened, not really, but she’d heard how monster hunters could be. Once they were on their hunts, there wasn’t much that would stop them. She didn’t know this Kaden, but it was clear Ari cared for him. It was less clear if he would have stopped if Ari had gotten in the way. “I don’t know if she would have hated you, but forgiveness is your own choice. And you’re right: it’s not that simple. I doubt there’s a damn thing in this world that is simple.”

There was no anger, no sense of betrayal, only comfort. Some small part of Ari knew that would be the case, but had kept that guilt close to her chest anyway. She couldn’t put a finger on why. She used to be a relatively open book and she couldn’t figure out exactly when that changed. She couldn’t simply place when she stopped feeling worthy of the love she gave out so freely. Still, she felt haunted. She could still hear Alcher’s whispers creeping in the back of her mind like a fever dream that never ended. That didn’t change the kind of friend Kitty was. The older wolf was always understanding and supportive. She always had a way of framing things that made it feel a little lighter. Deep down, she knew there wasn’t a single secret that wouldn’t be safe with Kitty. She pondered her words for a minute. She hadn’t pulled the trigger, that much was true. “Yeah, maybe,” she agreed quietly. It was hard to not feel like she hadn’t done enough.

“I guess I could have, huh,” Ari said as she thought it over. If that happened, Kaden and Alcher likely would have destroyed each other. Or the surviving of the two would live with that guilt forever. That’s not something she’d wish on either of them. She leaned her head into Kitty’s shoulder and let out a sigh. “I guess it doesn’t really matter much anymore whether she loves or hates me,” she contemplated, “If it were the other way around, I think I would have forgiven Alcher, too. I get why they wanted each other dead. She killed his family and his family killed her family. They’d both done bad things, but I loved them anyway. I’ve done plenty wrong they’ve both forgiven me for, too.”

She paused and curled further into her friend. “You’re not upset that I did though?”

“You know I’m right,” Kitty wheedled softly, nudging against Ari as the smaller girl moved in closer. She knew she couldn’t convince Ari of that if the other girl wasn’t ready, but she’d try. At the end of the day, she didn’t know Alcher well enough to know whether or not she’d hate Ari for her forgiveness, but that didn’t really matter now. Alcher had loved her wolves, her pack. She seemed like the kind of woman who would do what she needed to protect her family, and she’d somehow included them both as a part of that. Even Kitty, a turned wolf who had no place in any of this. Alcher had been nothing but kind to her, and she’d carry that with her wherever she went.

“You could have,” Kitty repeated softly. “And I don’t think that would have turned out too well for anybody, do you?” Kitty certainly wouldn’t still be in White Crest. She would have packed up right then and left without a word. She was still figuring this whole thing out, being a part of the supernatural in a way that wasn’t quite what she expected, and being with the smaller wolf was the closest she’d felt like home since she left home. She didn’t really know what she’d do without this. Kitty wrapped her arm around Ari. “I think that’s how it goes. You love people because you love them, even if they’re wrong. They were both wrong. I think you ended that, the cycle of violence, when you forgave him.” She sighed. “So, no, I’m not upset with you, sweetie. It’s a big thing to forgive, especially for such a little wolf.”

Kitty let her voice take on a teasing tone, hoping to cheer Ari up a little more, before she heard something outside. A trash can was knocked over. She sat up a little, her arm still wrapped around Ari. “Shit. Was that a fucking raccoon?”

It was hard for Ari to figure if things would be better or worse if it had been her to fall instead of Alcher or Kaden. One or both of them would be living with the same bone crushing guilt that haunted her moments, waking and sleeping alike. Kyle had said she was the first wolf and friend he had really had. With Nell gone, she couldn’t imagine leaving Kitty behind. There was a constant battle in her mind of whether she deserved to be here or whether she needed to stop being reckless and stay. Both her and Kitty had said it, nothing was ever that simple. “No,” she finally agreed, “I don’t think it would have.”

She would keep trying to believe that. It was easy for Ari to take to heart when she was lying beside her closest friend. Of all the places Kitty could have found during her travels, she was thankful it was White Crest. She could feel the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Kitty’s words echoed all she had wanted to do since she’d lost Celeste. It still didn’t feel like she was doing anything as effectively as Celeste had, but she could keep trying. It was all she could. She nodded from her place cozied in the blankets. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “I like to think people are bigger than the things they’ve done. And that’s what I’ve wanted since– to end that cycle of violence. I guess forgiving him plays into that.”

Ari smiled at the last part. “You’re one of the few people who can call me little and not catch these hands.”

A crash from outside had both of them on high alert. The clanging of plastic bags and the bin indicated it was the trash can that had fallen which could mean a number of things. She sat up, still partially nestled into Kitty. Ari grimaced. “That doesn’t sound good. Raccoon or bear is my guess though we should probably pick it up before we have trash fucking everywhere.”

She reluctantly moved from her spot on the bed to take a peek outside the window. “Huh,” Ari commented, “I don’t see anything. You may be right about the trash panda. Better get it to scurry off.”

Kitty allowed herself to relax a little at Ari’s words. And they might have to have this conversation again, might have to talk this through again late at night when Ari’s mind started working too hard, especially if doubts creeped in like mosquitos buzzing around on a Mississippi summer night. Kitty would just have to swat them away again until it stuck. She’d keep doing it as long as Ari needed her to, as long as she was around. She didn’t mind. It was the least she could do. Hell, it was something she wanted to do. Long term wants weren’t things she’d held onto since she left home, but this one, she thought, was worth it.

“Forgiving him’s a lot more than some folks would do,” Kitty said. She didn’t know what to say about people being bigger than what they’ve done, being more. Sometimes, she felt so small. She thought about waking up covered in blood, and she thought about what was left of her best friend, and she thought about the look on his mama’s face when she said she didn’t remember the night before, didn’t know where he’d gone, and she felt tiny. Magic had always been beautiful to her, but the magic inside of her was an animal, and it was ravenous, and it had only ever done bad things. But Kitty couldn’t talk about that. She shouldn’t put those kinds of things on the other wolf. She laughed instead. “I’m grateful. Your hands are just too powerful for me to face.”

With a sigh, Kitty followed Ari to the window and looked outside, but she didn’t see anything either. She hoped it wasn’t a bear. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with a bear. But Ari said she thought it was a raccoon, and Kitty couldn’t help the silent laughter forcing its way through her body. “I fucking love raccoons,” she said quietly, happily. “I hope it’s a raccoon.”

“Probably,” Ari agreed, “I think I’d feel worse if I didn’t forgive him.” As much was true, especially after she saw how low he’d been that first night she stopped by. It was clear he was full of remorse for the lives he’d taken, so much so he couldn’t even stand to look at his weapons. With support, Kaden could probably grow into someone he could be proud of. Ari wondered if the same could be true of her. She used to believe as much, but she didn’t feel like the same person anymore. That girl she was two years ago seemed a whole world away, but maybe if Kitty could love the person she was now, she could learn to do the same. All she knew was these late night talks were something she cherished and never wanted to lose. To have a friend who could see the parts of her that she hated and still love her anyway gave her hope that maybe she could one day be deserving of it again.

She laughed at Kitty’s joke as they made their way outside. Ari could hear something rummaging through the trash can which checked out for a racoon. “You may be in luck,” she said with a chuckle, “It sure sounds like a raccoon. Probably going after the bits of leftover food.”

As Ari approached the bin, she tentatively peeked inside. While still a small animal, it was far too long to be a raccoon. The creature’s long body was striped and it had bright yellow eyes that were looking up at her. To her surprise, it wasn’t a piece of food hanging carefully from it’s lips, but a bracelet she’d lost. Overall, it looked harmless and kinda cute. She looked over at Kitty, “Have you ever seen one of these before? Looks kind of like a weasel or ferret.”

She carefully reached into the trashcan and scooped the little guy out. “Hey, buddy,” she cooed, “Mind if I take that back?”

“I think I can understand that,” Kitty said. She figured that she’d probably forgive the people that she loved, too, for doing bad things. That was kind of the downside to love: it took away most of the logic that existed in people’s bodies and replaced it with something that didn’t understand that the ways of the world were supposed to be simple and straightforward. Nothing was ever simple. Nothing was ever straightforward.

Kitty bounced on the balls of her feet as they headed outside, excited by the prospect of seeing a cute little critter without having to worry about chasing after it because of a werewolf prey drive. Not that raccoons made tasty treats, but they, like most things, ran in the face of a giant predator, from what she remembered of a full moon a couple of months ago. When they made it to the bin, she leaned in with Ari, taking a long look at the creature inside. No, it wasn’t a raccoon, but that didn’t matter at all with how cute it was. Kitty couldn’t help but let out a little aw, especially when she saw that the creature had a bracelet in its mouth. “Not a raccoon, but still a thief,” she said happily.

“Still striped, too, though it’s the entire body instead of just the tail,” Kitty added, looking over the little creature and its markings as Ari pulled it out of the trash. She reached over to give the creature scritches behind its ears. “I haven’t the faintest idea what it is,” she said happily. “It’s cute as hell, though.”

“A really cute thief,” Ari said with a wide grin. It seemed to be comfortable enough in her hands and she used one of them to give it some scratches near its ears. The little weasel leaned into her touch and she cooed at it. If it were literally anything else, she’d probably be sketched out by the stripes, but this little guy was far too adorable. She carefully took the bracelet from its mouth and put it back on her wrist with her free hand. “I’m not sure either. It’s a long boy so I think it's some kinda weasel. He’s friendly.”

Ari held her hands out and asked, “Wanna hold him?” She passed their new friend off to Kitty and observed him momentarily. It needed a name. With how long it was, Ari immediately suggested, “We should call him Noodle! And keep him, he shouldn’t have to dig through the trash for food.”

For a critter that had been rooting through the garbage, their new friend was incredibly docile, and Kitty couldn’t help but be a little enamored. “I grew up with some weird ass animals,” she mused quietly. “Not just farm animals, but my mama has an axe-handle hound, and Taki ain’t the first ovinnik I’ve ever seen.” She realized, probably, that this was the most she talked about her life before. She’d shared she had siblings, and she’d talked a little bit about farming practices when they were working outside, but she didn’t talk about that. The magic. Even with Nell, she hadn’t talked about it much.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Kitty said, taking the weasel happily into her arms. It squirmed around, seeming to enjoy it, and she cradled it like a baby and rubbed under its chin. She laughed, then, at the name suggestion. “Noodle. He is kinda noodle-y, ain’t he?” The weasel squirmed some more and settled in as if to prove her point. “Yeah, I’m alright with that. It’s a little quiet around here,” she teased. “What d’ya think Kyle’s gonna say?”

Outside of some mentions of her siblings and the farm, Kitty hadn’t talked about home all that much and Ari hadn’t pushed. If Kitty wanted to talk about that stuff, she hoped her friend knew she was always there for a listening ear. “Huh, Taki is the first ovinnik I’ve ever seen, not sure I know what an ax-handle hound is either,” she mused as the little weasel settled into Kitty. Her family had to know about the supernatural if that was the case, but she tried to subdue her own curiosity for the sake of her friend. She knew some things were too hard to talk about, especially if you weren’t ready.

“Long and skinny like a Noodle,” Ari exclaimed, “He’d be perfect for the ‘My money doesn’t jingle jingle, it folds’ sound on TikTok!” She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, nightmares long forgotten at the prospect of another animal around the farm. There was a mental checklist in her head of things she'd need to get for the weasel so it’d be comfortable, well-fed, and safe. “Awesome, I’ll go to the pet store tomorrow to get some stuff for it. Can’t be that different than a ferret, can it,” she asked and added, “I’m sure Kyle will be fine with it. I mean look at him, who wouldn’t love this little guy?”

“Geb’s got a head that looks like an axe. He liked sitting on the porch and barking at all of us and eating sticks, honestly. A good little fella,” Kitty said, giving the weasel another belly rub. She’d never get a familiar. Hell, once a month she was a literal fucking animal. She felt so much closer to the world, though, which was what she wanted. Even if she knew it wasn’t the same. But now she could hear the little weasel’s heart. She could smell the night and all of its individual scents. She couldn’t touch the earth and make it grow, but she knew the smell of it in the air, on her tongue. That had to be enough.

“Yes!” Kitty said loudly, her voice startling the little weasel as she jumped as well. “Sorry, fella.” She rubbed it under the chin again. “I think weasels and ferrets are of a similar family. Distant cousins, if nothing else.” She was already pretty stoked about the creature, even if it was kinda weird and definitely not what some folks would qualify as normal. Really, that just meant that it fit in around them. “You know what? You’re totally right. This is the most lovable face in the world.”

“Huh, you know, makes sense with the name,” Ari said as she imagined what the hound looked like. It did sound pretty damn cute, though she thought most animals were cute. She wondered how Kitty’s mom had gotten one, but she returned her focus to their new pet. She leaned toward Kitty and gave it a little pet after it jumped from the excitement. Noodle seemed to settle right back into her arms happily and it brought a wide smile to her face. “I guess that’s that then,” she beamed, “Welcome to the family, Noodle!”

#wickedswriting #kitty #p; kitty #p; gold digger #sibling death tw

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kareofbears · 3 years ago

Text

plainly in truth, chapter 3/5

"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Ryuji grips the letter like it was silver and he was a werewolf in the full moon.

He picks it up, skims over the first line before putting it down beside him, feeling worse every time he does it, only able to read the fine-printed lettering from the flickering lamp post above him. The constant change in light would normally bug him, but he doesn’t really care about it now; it’s not like the words would change in his hand, and he’s long since needed to actually read it to know what it reads.

His feet dangle over the canal, enjoying the way a rush of adrenaline would go through him when he looks down into the deep waters. It’s late enough in the night that even with the city lights around him, he can’t gauge how deep it goes.

Soseikawa Park was only a five minute walk from Odori Park, but with the narrow river and steeped hills, Ryuji found it secluded enough to let himself sit. Breathe. Not exist, even for just a few minutes. It’s like having his own bedroom, except it smells faintly like a sewer and there’s an intersection about ten meters above where he sat underneath the overpass. If he can ignore the never-ending rumble of cars and trucks driving above him, it can almost be considered peaceful.

He lets himself fall back, the grass tickling the back of his neck and his spine screaming in relief. They’re heading out again in two days, which means more days of being in an inescapable RV surrounded by his best friends who are keeping an eye on him because they’re good people who don’t know how to mind their own fucking business.

Idly, he lets his hands pull and brings it to his face—blades of grass. He lets it get taken by the wind. After brief consideration, he shoves the letter back into his pocket before he can do the same thing to it.

He is so tired.

Blindly, he hits the vague area of where his pocket is and fishes out his phone, hitting the first speed dial before he can talk himself out of it. As two rings go by, he stupidly hopes that she doesn’t pick up, as if she hasn’t ever missed a phone call from him even when she’s at work.

The third ring gets cut off halfway through. “Ryu!”

Despite himself, he grins. “Hey, ma. Checking in for the weekly call.”

“I was just thinking about you,” she says, and he can hear the laundry machine run in the background. “I was wondering if you had eaten today.”

“Ma, you ain’t gotta worry about that kinda thing anymore. I’m a big boy now.”

“You’re breaking my heart!” He can almost see her, phone tucked in the crook of her neck, work-worn hands folding her laundry as fast as she can so as to not hold up the next person in line. “It doesn’t matter how big you are, you’re my boy. How can I not think about whether my boy is eating or not?”

“All I’ve done on this trip is eat, ma.”

“Oh, and Akira! How’s that handsome boy doing? Still taking the world by storm?”

That pulls a genuine laugh from him—he never needs to hold back when it comes to talking about Akira, at least. “You know it. He’s the only guy in the world who can stand toe-to-toe with me in chowing down. I swear, he’s slipping some of it under the table ‘cause he’s so damn fast. Forty seconds! Forty seconds to inhale an extra large beef bowl! Blows my mind, seriously.”

“Could never do anything in halves, can he?” she chuckles, before the quality of her voice shifts. “And are you enjoying yourself?”

He hesitates. “Yeah, of course. It’s a roadtrip across Japan, how can I not?”

“Good.” There’s some crackling over the receiver, and he guesses she’s probably adjusting the basket full of clothes on her hip. “That’s all I want to hear. As long as you’re happy, Ryu, I’m a happy old woman.”

Ryuji opens his mouth, ready to console her.

I’m always happy!

You worry too much, ma.

There’s nothing to worry about.

“Sorry, but,” he swallows thickly. “I think they’re calling for me? So—”

“Alright,” she says, and he might be imagining the disappointed tinge to it. “Call back when you can, okay sweetheart? I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he clears his throat. “I love you, ma.”

“I love you too, Ryu.”

He hangs up, letting the phone slip out of his fingers. It lands hard on the flat grass

For a long moment, he just lays there, listening to the gentle lapping waves and cars honking with impatience of people who have somewhere to be. He tries to meditate for half a minute, with all the information he had learned from a couple of YouTube videos, and gives up, because of course he does. Squeezing his eyes shut, he can’t do anything about the creeping dread that’s in his stomach getting stronger, squeezing and squeezing until he feels sick. It’s like his insecurities are having this huge fight against each other, feeding off of one another until it gets too big for him to handle and all he can do is breathe and try to do something about it.

And he’s fucking sick of it—breathing. He’s sick of the stupid breathing techniques, sick of counting down from ten and waiting for his own heart to chill out because his brain won’t stop reminding him of everything he did wrong, of shit he’s still doing wrong because at least this way, nobody knows what he did was wrong. It’s just him that can point and laugh at himself, and that’s way better than having the world do it for him.

He doesn’t cry, because he’s not a crier. He’s the type of guy to throw a fist through drywood before shedding a tear, and he hates that about himself. Rather than do something that will actually help, Ryuji lays there, perfectly still. Listening. Waiting for a meteor to fall on him, or for the overpass to crash its entire weight on top of him.

Instead, he hears footsteps.

His heart rate slows by a fraction, and opens his eyes to meet gray ones. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Akira says, a smile in his voice. “How did you know it was me?”

Ryuji almost feels offended. He would know Akira by sound alone, the way his heels would click in the Metaverse. The way the balls of his feet would strike the earth, hardly muffled by grass or cheap sneakers or anything else as trivial. Ryuji would know he was there; no matter how blind he was with hatred for himself, his love for Akira would always guide him back to where he needs to be.

“Lucky guess.”

“One hell of a guess.” He plops down onto the grass and Ryuji lifts his head, allowing Akira to wiggle until he could use his lap as a pillow. “Your turn,” Akira says.

“My turn to what?”

“To ask me how I knew where you were.”

“Oh.” He lets his eyes slide shut again. “I kinda just assumed you could do that.”

“You assume too much of me sometimes.”

“I assume the right amount.” Ryuji refuses to shiver when he feels long fingers start to card through his hair. “You’re giving me goosebumps,” he sighs.

“That’s a good thing, I think.” The fingers pull away and he’s about to complain when he feels something gets thrown over his torso. “Here. You always end up forgetting to wear an extra layer when you go out like this.”

Ryuji rearranges Akira’s jacket over himself. “Sap.”

“You know it.” He resumes combing through his hair, and Ryuji lets himself relax, just a little. It’s strange—it’s hard as hell being around other people nowadays, and even though Akira can make him feel that sometimes, mostly it helps the eternal twisting of his stomach to settle.

“You’re good at that,” Ryuji mutters.

“Thank you. I’ve had plenty of practice with Morgana.” And just to make it worse, he uses a little bit of nail on his nape, sending electricity running down all the way to his fingertips.

His mouth twists unhappily. “Don’t do shit like that while talking about the cat, for the love of god.”

Akira does it again, like the little shit he is. “You still have that weird thing with your neck?”

“Quit it!” Ryuji slaps his thigh and he can’t muster much anger when he can feel Akira’s shoulders shake from silent laughter. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“You’re right.” Gently, softly, like the world’s lightest feather, he feels lips brush his temple. “I’m funnier.”

His eyes open, and his entire vision is obscured by curly black hair and tender eyes. “You’re right,” he breathes. “You’re funnier.”

Akira bends down again, and Ryuji catches his lips, overflowing with something soft but unafraid, and it’s so good that Ryuji reaches for his cheek just to make it last a little bit longer.

When they break off, Akira kisses his temple again, this time on the left side. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh,” he scratches his head, brain a little fuzzy. “Tuesday?”

“It’s Wednesday, and I meant the date. It’s August tenth.”

“Okay?”

Akira thumbs at his collarbone. “I know this might be a little lame that I know it by heart, but I left Tokyo on March 19th. That would mean it’s been—”

“One hundred forty-four days since you moved away,” he finishes. “I know.”

Akira blinks, and then laughs, and Ryuji knows it’s an especially good one because sound actually comes out this time. “Yes,” he says, elated. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

“I told you dude, we’re really on that telepathy shit.”

“We really are.” A pause. “I miss you.”

He’s about to joke—I’m right here, you big dummy—but find that he just can’t. “I miss you too.”

They can’t say what they mean: I will miss you. Summer vacation doesn’t last forever, and two months will always be a hell of a lot shorter than the rest of the ten months that they’ll be apart. Somehow, he dreads seeing Akira gone, and he’ll dread seeing Akira back in Tokyo because it would mean that he’d actually have to see what Ryuji’s really like. Actively pushing away his best friend just so he doesn’t have to see his failures; doesn’t that just make him the worst piece of shit in the world?

There’s a gap, though. A little loophole. A crack in the timeline. A place where maybe he’s allowed to be a hollowed out version of happy; the now.

“Tomorrow’s our last day in Sapporo?”

“Yeah?” Akira replies, surprised at the change in tone.

“Which means Jail stuff is done, right? All your grocery shopping and Sophia Prime’s been ordered and packed up?”

“Yes,” he says, a lilt in his voice. “It’s all done.”

Ryuji sits up and faces him, reaching for his wrists, relishing in the heartbeat thumping against his palms. “Let’s do something. I don’t care what, but let’s do something. Eat at a diner, go to a museum, rob a bank, whatever.” He runs his thumb along the veins there, long since those bumps have been ingrained in his brain. “Let’s do something, just you and me.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Sakamoto?” He has a cocky look in his eye, and Ryuji’s half-tempted to kiss him again just to wipe it clean off his face. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.”

He knows. That’s the scary part. Would Akira still follow someone he doesn’t know as well as he thinks he does? “I’ll get us lost,” he jokes.

Akira doesn’t laugh. “I’d rather be lost with you than learn to lose you.”

It’s been ages since he’s been flustered at anything Akira does, but he feels a rush of heat crawl up his neck. “I’ll—” Ryuji shakes his head, willing his embarrassment to go away. “Shit, uh—”

“I’ll pick where to go,” he interrupts, a little too smug for his liking. “I’d say I’ll pick you up at your place, but…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a comedian,” Ryuji rolls his eyes. “I’ll be ready whenever.”

“Fantastic.” Akira checks his phone, wincing. “It’s late.”

He grips his wrist tightly. “I know.”

Thankfully, he’s never needed to explain much to Akira. “Okay,” he says softly. “Ten more minutes?”

“Yeah.” He lets his eyes slide shut once more, letting out a breath. The world will keep spinning. His stomach will keep twisting. Time will keep marching on, but at least he has this. “Ten minutes sounds good.”

—

The first words that Futaba says as she enters the RV was: “Oh, hell.”

“Hello Futaba-chan, Yusuke-kun,” Haru greets cheerfully from the booth. “How was your shopping trip?”

“...Fine,” she replies, stepping aside to let him in, lugging a four-foot tall canvas in his arms that accidentally hits the ceiling. “Got a new Featherman action figure.”

“I got a canvas,” Yusuke answers from behind the wall of white. “Though I assume you can see that.”

“I can.” Her smile doesn’t falter, and it’s making the hair on Futaba’s nape rise like a nervous animal. “Quick question, since you both are here…”

Haru pulls a tote bag from underneath the table, and it’s so heavy that when she throws it on the table, her teacup nearly topples over. “Would you like to take a guess of what’s in this bag?”

A billion jokes pop into Futaba’s head, but both of them stay silent, terrified and confused. They both knew this was coming, but they didn’t expect her to be so forward about it.

“I suppose that’s a pretty strange question, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” She reaches in and pulls out thick, heavy textbooks, all brightly coloured and consist of beaming, diverse students on the front cover. “Care to tell me why you were both looking at cram books while we’re on our fun roadtrip?”

Yusuke pushes Futaba aside, eyes on the books and wide with shock. “You bought them?!” he exclaims.

“Wait—” Futaba hops repeatedly, trying to catch a glimpse from over his shoulder. “You bought all of them?”

“Of course.”

“But why?”

She thinks about it for a moment. “Hmm, think about it this way. If Akira’s in charge of the group as a whole, and Makoto’s in charge of the more analytical aspect of things, think of me as a somewhat stern yet loving parent who doesn’t quite know how to mind their own business.”

“I thought that was Ann’s job,” Futaba mutters, heart hammering in her chest.

“Now,” Haru leans forward, and as if to prove her role, speaks in a gentle tone. “I’m not mad at you. That would be ridiculous. But I saw you two looking at these books, and I know how expensive they can be, so I’ll give them to you.”

She blinks. “You would?”

“Absolutely!” Haru smiles wide. “On the condition that you tell me why you need them.”

Futaba and Yusuke exchange a glance, before Futaba makes a T with her hands. “Timeout!” she yells, dragging Yusuke by the collar out of the RV.

“What do we do?” he whispers once the door is shut. “It’s not as if we can tell her.”

“I don’t know, maybe we should?” she pushes up her glasses. “Damn, the things money can buy you. Our vow of silence is getting thrown out the window for two handfuls of yen.”

He looks her dead in the eyes. “I would tell the world my deepest secrets if it meant having lifetime access to a grocery store.”

“Don’t say that, you sellout!”

“I’m not selling out. My art already reveals the deepest portion of my soul, it’s not my fault that the common observers cannot pick up what I’m putting down.” He squints against the setting sun. “She’s waiting. What do we do?”

“Okay, okay, okay, just let me—” her mind whirrs rapidly, and for a second she really feels like Sophia. “Give me a second.”

“I have a suggestion,” he points at her. “If we’re not averse to lying, let’s tell them that you need them for school. You’re struggling with academics, you need a bit of outside help, so we took a look at the textbooks.”

“Good idea! Wait.” She frowns. “They’ll never buy it. Let’s say that you need them.”

“I’m at the top of my class!”

“But they don’t know that!” She balls her fists together, determined. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“I didn’t say yes to this.”

Futaba kicks the door open, making Haru pause wiping her spilt drink mid-stroke. “Inari’s struggling with his classes!”

“I—“ Yusuke stammers. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’m struggling with my classes. They’re mighty indeed, and even I find them difficult. I am...struggling.”

Haru looks at them doubtfully. “Yusuke is?”

“I am,” he answers as Futaba says, “He is.”

“Yusuke,” she repeats, gesturing to the neatly-stacked pile of textbooks on the table. “Is struggling with precalculus?”

They stare at her. “Yes,” Yusuke says, slowly. “I am struggling with previous calculus.”

“Out of curiosity, Yusuke,” Haru scratches her cheek. “Do you know what a parabola is?”

“Of course I do,” he replies with the wisdom of a thousand monks. “It’s a self-contradictory statement.”

“That’s a paradox,” Makoto corrects from the steering wheel.

“What the heck?” Futaba jumps a foot in the air. “Why are you here? Why were you hiding?”

“I like to sit here a few hours before we start another road trip,” she says, before glaring at them. “You two. Does this have to do with Ryuji?”

“T-timeout!”

Futaba makes a beeline to the door again, but Haru’s faster. She slips past them, standing in their way, perfect smile still in place. Sometimes Futaba forgets how strong she is in negotiations; her and Yusuke were probably tutorial levels compared to the upper management of Okumura Foods. “Answer her question, please.”

Yusuke sighs, tired. “You know what you’re asking for, don’t you? If we tell you what’s happening here, it would be breaking the trust of one of our teammates.”

“Yusuke!” Futaba hisses. “Are you really thinking about telling them? It’s not even our secret to tell.”

“No, it isn’t.” He makes eye contact with Makoto. “But she made a point. What would make us better friends: if we kept a secret to the grave while letting him suffer, or tell someone who can help even if it means being some sort of tattletale?”

“But…” she trails off, resolve crumbling. “Dude. It’s going to suck so much.”

“I know.” He pats her head, before moving to Ryuji’s backpack once more. “Don’t worry, I’m willing to take his anger if need be.” Yusuke gestures to the booth. “Everyone, take a seat. It’s about time this finally gets cleared up.”

Smoothing out the envelope in his hand, even more crumpled than when they had it last, he clears his throat, takes one last glance at Futaba to make sure. At her tentative nod, he begins to read its contents in a loud, clear voice.

When he finishes, they sit there, staring at the thick paper in silence.

“Oh my god,” Makoto breathes. “I knew it was bad, but—”

Haru shakes her head. “Not this bad. And he talked about it so much, but we didn’t even…” she glances down at the textbooks, idly rubbing its spine. “I didn’t think much of it.”

“None of us did,” Yusuke says. “But does that make it any better?”

They fall in silence again, but Futaba can hear the answer loud and clear. Hell no.

The door opens forcefully, pulling them out of their stupor.

“What’s up, my beloved friends!” Ann calls, shopping bags in tow. “God, I’m gonna miss Sapporo. Things here are so cheap compared to Tokyo, sheesh!” She sets them down, laughing when nobody says anything. “Jeez, what’s going on? Did I miss something?”

“Ann-chan,” Haru says carefully, all sense of cheer, for intimidation or otherwise, gone. “Take a seat. There’s something you should know.”

—

The Ferris wheel looms over them, blocking out most of the sunset behind it. “Nice,” Ryuji grins appreciatively. “I should’ve seen this one coming.”

“You should’ve,” Akira agrees, tugging him into the open carriage. He goes in willingly. “It was staring at you the whole time we’re in Sapporo. And besides, every romantic movie has a Ferris wheel scene, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah? Name one.”

“Death note.”

Ryuji makes a face, and Akira laughs. “Yeah, I know. Bad example.”

It’s a tight squeeze but they sit next to each other, ignoring the bench in front of them. The seats are hot, and even though it’s nearly evening, the heat barely eases up on them. Still, he finds himself pressing himself against Akira. He runs cold, much colder than Ryuji; narrow wrists are ice, prominent collarbones frost.

The two of them lean over the window, pointing out random scenery as if it were the first time they were seeing them. Restaurants, statues. Weird looking cars and flower beds. Decorated high rises and insects that fly by. It’s like they were tourists, or a retired couple who just want to travel the world. He’s never wanted to be old before, but Akira always has a way of making him change his mind.

Like clockwork—Ryuji makes a joke. Akira laughs. His heart feels lighter.

When he finds himself leaning against him, feet up on the bench, Akira wraps his arms around his shoulders unhesitatingly. Ryuji wonders if he can hear the way his heart thuds inside his bones. He wonders if he knows it's for him. The Ferris wheel stops, right at the very top, gently swaying like it were a giant cradle. They’re not very high up, but it’s far enough that he feels like he’s left the entire world behind.

Ryuji presses his lips against those wrists, relishing in the way he can feel the heartbeat increase. “You nervous?”

He can feel his head shake behind him. “I’m happy, I think,” Akira says in a hushed voice, like it was a secret, like it was a sin.

A breeze flows through, and Ryuji closes his eyes when lips press against just below his ear.

Would it be worth it to have a Palace? A Jail? Would it be worth it to lose himself, just to be in this moment for the rest of time?

Carefully, he flips himself sideways, just so he can press more of himself against Akira. The carriage rocks gently, and the metal bench underneath them is sharp and uncomfortable. Arms tighten around him. Chest to back, knee to knee, they couldn’t be closer, but Ryuji leans back, wanting nothing more than to bottle the rhythm of his breathing and the smell of his soap.

I’m happy, too, I think, he wants to say. If we stayed like this for the rest of our lives, until our skin is permanently tattooed into the hot steel and our bones are the only thing they take out of this bench because the rest of us had already rotted, then I’d be pretty damn happy.

Craning his neck backwards, Akira is already staring.

Then he’s kissing him—once, twice, again and again, and Ryuji realizes that something’s different. This wasn’t the kind of kiss he was used to. There was a desperate air to it, an urgent edge from both of them that neither was ready for. Stealing each other’s breath and giving it back; the cycle continues, the clock keeps ticking.

Ryuji pulls himself up, not breaking the kiss, cupping his cheek and soaking him in like a flower to the sun; an endless yearning, like he’d shrivel up and suffocate if it vanished. The sun framed Akira, and for a split second, he feels like he understands what Yusuke sees on a canvas.

When they part, foreheads leaning against each other, Ryuji lifts a trembling hand to wipe the tear that rolled down Akira’s cheek.

“What’s up?” he asks softly. “Is something wrong?”

“I feel like you’re a miracle, Ryuji.”

How do you respond to that? When the person who said it feels like they’re the one who’s magic, who’s too good to be true?

“Fuck miracles,” he says, pulling Akira in again.

—

The circuit felt like it ended too soon, but it’s night when they finally stepped off, holding hands and faces flushed. He hopes the ride operator doesn’t hate them, but he’s in too good of a mood to really complain.

Ryuji stops in his tracks when he sees who’s in front of them.

“Ann?” Akira questions, taken aback. Eyes dark and brows pulled close together, clutching her purse like a weapon of war—she looks like she’d just seen someone set an orphanage on fire.

Her voice is shockingly deep, gaze fixed on Ryuji. “I’m borrowing him for a second.”

Before either of them can say anything, Ann takes him by the bicep, and he can only glance at Akira before he’s dragged back into the Ferris wheel.

“Did you even pay—?”

“Don’t start,” she hisses, pushing him on the bench, hard. “Don’t you dare start, you damn liar.”

His blood runs cold. “What?”

No. That’s impossible.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” She shoves her hand in her bag and throws something rubber at him. “Do you know how long it took me to find a good one here? I spent my entire day in the shopping district—not looking for clothes, or shoes, or whatever the hell I thought would be fun. No, I spent our last day in Sapporo looking for that.”

Ryuji looks down at the hot compress in his hands, a lump in his throat.

“Because you weren’t doing anything to your knee,” she continues, jaw tight. “Despite me trying my best to help you get better. I thought that you must’ve been really fan-freaking-tastic at hiding the pain that you told me about. That I trusted was the truth because you’re one of my best friends and I trust you. I trust you with my life, my secrets—” Ann grits her teeth. “What the hell?”

“How did you find out?” he asks hoarsely.

She knows. If she knows, they could know. If they could know—

“Damn you, it doesn’t matter how I found out!” she throws her hands in the air, voice so hurt that it twists his insides impossibly tighter. “You think I would care? You think that this is important enough to lie to me about? Dammit, I don’t care that you—”

“Don’t say it,” he begs. “Please.”

“I don’t give a single shit that you failed second-year, Sakamoto!”

Her words ring against the steel walls, deafening.

Bile crawls up his esophagus, and he readies himself for another attack. But for some strange reason, his vision doesn’t blur. Instead, anger kicks in like it always does.

“You don’t care?” he asks, incredulous. “This doesn’t even have anything to do with you!”

“It does when you lie to me about it!” she yells back. “Do you not care about me? About your friends who would go to hell and back for you?”

“How dare you—!”

“You lied to me, you hid it from everyone else, you ignored our advice because it doesn’t mean shit to you.” She points a finger at him. “And look where that got you.”

“Shut up.”

“We all noticed, you know! Each and every one of us noticed that something was up, even the literal robot—”

“Shut the hell up, Ann.”

“And for what? All you accomplished was hurt our feelings, hold in yours, and keep it from the love of your life—”

Ryuji stands up, rocking the carriage and nearly toppling Ann off her feet.

“It’s because I fucking hate myself!”

She grips the barred window, eyes wide. They stare each other down for a few long moments, before the ride comes to an abrupt end. The door swings open, allowing a cheery greeting from the oblivious employee.

And then Ann sighs, shoulders deflating. “Come on,” she jerks her head to the door, before stepping out herself. “Let’s go.”

“What?” he asks, puzzled. “Where?”

“If we’re going to delve into the psyche of Sakamoto Ryuji, we might as well do it with some food in front of us.”

—

The cafe Ann takes him to is bright, filled with pastries and crowded with people—stools are pastel blue, baristas are wearing cute bowties, and each cup of coffee comes with an alarming amount of whipped cream on top. Sojiro would have a heart attack if he walked three kilometers of this place, but Ryuji’s glad that the resemblance is far and away than that of Leblanc.

The booth is pressed into the corner of it all; up against the window and far enough from the main bustle that they’d have to really put their all into it if they wanted to take their order. On one side sat Futaba, nervously tracing shapes on the window while Haru sits beside her. The opposite end has Yusuke and Makoto.

They all look up when they hear the bell chime, and Ryuji almost laughs. “It’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen you guys look so serious,” he remarks, sliding next to Makoto while Ann sits next to Haru. “Where’s the food at? Come on guys, food’s good for you.”

He raises a hand. “Excuse me! We’re ready!”

“Ryuji,” Futaba’s voice is brittle. “I—”

“Hold on shorty,” he reaches to pat her head, voice coming out soft. “We’ll get to that. I promise.”

A waiter comes, takes their drink order, and leaves. When he does, Yusuke places a heavy hand on the table. “I was the one who told everyone.”

“That’s not true!” Futaba cries out, and everyone jerks back in shock. “That’s bull! I’m the one who told him to go through your stuff ‘cause he was worried about you, but I’m the one who actually—”

“No, I’m the one at fault here,” Haru casts her gaze downwards. “It was really none of my business, but I forced these two to tell everyone here. I’m so sorry—”

Ryuji sighs. “Guys, it’s fine.” He’s met with an incredulous look. “Okay, it isn’t, but none of this is your fault, you know? I’m not mad.” His gaze shifts to Ann. “But you’re allowed to be mad at me. I know I shouldn’t have hidden it.”

She gives him a weighted look. “Then why did you do it?”

“Ann,” Makoto warns.

“No, I’m not budging on this.” She leans forward. “He lied to me. Lying doesn’t get you anywhere good. That was really stupid of you.”

“Ann!” Futaba cuts in, horrified.

“You’ve seen what happened with Shiho.” Ryuji flinches back like he’s been hit. He knows. Ann knows he knows. But she keeps going anyway. “She lied to me about what was happening, and I lied to her back. It kept going and going, and—” she snaps her fingers. “She’s gone from my life. For how long? I don’t know, maybe until we graduate. Maybe until her rehab ends. Maybe longer. Who knows? All I know is if we had just—talked, or—” Ann shakes her head, frustrated. “From the start. Tell us what happened. And afterwards, let us help you, or I swear to god I’m going to cry, and I know you can’t stand it when people cry.”

The silence is deafening, even with the clamor of people and voices around them.

Ryuji lets out a breath. “Yeah, alright.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You will?”

“I will,” he repeats, idly checking his pulse. Heart rate is a little quick, but in no danger of having another breakdown. “I’ll tell you everything.”

The waiter chooses that time to drop off their drinks; all cold except Haru, nursing a hot cup of tea. They definitely didn’t buy enough to justify the god-knows-how-long they’re going to spend here, but they’re just gonna have to suck it up.

“Alright,” he starts when they’re alone again. “We going from the start?”

“The very beginning,” Ann confirms.

With one last glance at his friends, he sighs, sits up straight, and flashes them the biggest grin he can muster:

“Hi,” he greets. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, and I failed my second-year of high school.”

No one’s expression shifts, not even an inch. He can’t help but be a little impressed. “You guys know that I’ve never been the greatest with books. Shit, screw greatest—I’ve ranked bottom five ever since I started middle school. Didn’t help that my leg got fucked to high heaven and everyone started hating me. Nearly dropped out a couple times. Had no one, really. Worst time in my life, hands down.

“So imagine this dumb little kid, middle of April, running into this guy.” Without meaning to, the grin shifts into something more genuine. “Good-looking dude, super smart, real charmer but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by lookin’ at him. And that guy saved my life. Ten, twenty, thirty times over. He was so great that the dumb kid obviously fell in love with him. But what’s even crazier is that the guy fell in love with the dumb little kid, too.

“Crazy, right? Sounds made up, but I promise it’s true.” He catches Futaba’s expression shift to exasperation. “I know, I can’t believe it either.”

“That’s not what I meant, you sap,” she says.

“Yeah, but that dumb little kid,” he explains. “Couldn’t believe it. Literally couldn’t believe it. Thinks that he struck the lottery, struck by damn lightning. I mean—” Ryuji laughs a little. “How can someone so amazing and cool be in love with such a moron? What made it worse…”

He gestures at all of them. “Was that the guy had so many people in his life who was also amazing. His social circle was made up of, and correct me if I’m wrong: a successful journalist, a politician, some dude from the mob, a random child who breaks gaming records on the daily, and I’m not even counting people from this goddamn table. So dumb little kid knows, he fucking knows that somehow, someway, he tricked the cool guy into falling in love with him. The kid sucked, no, sucks,” he corrects. “At everything. Can’t do anything worthwhile.”

“Ryuji…” Haru whispers.

“Almost done, I know it’s running on kinda long,” he promises. “So the dumb little kid became kinda obsessed with the group’s ‘activities’, and it’s obvious why he would, right? If he knows he’s not good enough for the guy he’s in love with, then he can at least try to be. But since he already sucked at school to begin with, dummy over here completely bailed on school and ended up flunking so bad that he failed an entire year.”

An entire year. An entire year.

It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, but he’d rather get hit by a truck than lose it in front of so many people. Gritting his teeth, he does what he knows is bad, what every google search and YouTube video says you should not do—he pushes his feelings, far and hard away from himself, so far that it’s like it doesn’t even exist.

It works surprisingly well.

“And, uh—” Ryuji clears his throat. “He hid it. Because you know the one, single thing that’s worse than realizing you’re not good enough for the other person?”

No one answers. “Waiting for the day that they realize that you’re not good enough for them.”

“And that’s pretty much the bulk of it.” Reaching for his mug, he takes a sip of his lukewarm lemonade. Damn, he really did talk for a while. “I didn’t want to tell the rest of you because one, it’s really fucking embarrassing that I failed, and two—”

“Akira can’t know,” they all say in unison.

“Exactly, you guys get the point by now.” He drums his fingers against the table, trying to ignore the blatant gloom cast on all of their faces. “Question time starts now, if anyone wants to ask anything.”

Makoto opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “If anyone even thinks about feeling pity, or be all ‘no, you’re smart actually!’, I am walking out of this cafe and I am not looking back.”

“What about summer school?” Makoto asks immediately. “If you didn’t want us to know, then you could’ve taken that without even telling us.”

“Summer school was never an option.”

“And why not?” she slaps her hand against the table. “It would’ve solved this entire situation!”

“Because Akira was coming home for the summer,” he says simply. “And I wanted to enjoy my time with him without this hanging over my head.”

Her jaw drops open. “But...that’s…”

“Stupid?” he offers. “Idiotic? Really dumb? Potentially throwing away my entire future? Yeah, I gotcha. Another part of it was that the thought of staying at Shujin for another minute makes me want to jump into traffic, if that helps make me look a little better in your mind, miss prez.”

Makoto’s expression of confusion freezes, taken aback by the harshness of his words. Ryuji cringes at himself. “Sorry.”

“No,” she says finally. “The fault is mine. I have no right to judge your actions, or to pretend I know what kind of stress is burdening you.” Hesitating, she asks, “May I request another question?”

“Shoot.”

“What were you going to do when we eventually go back to Tokyo?”

As expected of someone who went head-to-head against the ace detective in front of the entire school; her questions are brutal. “I don’t know, honestly. I was planning on ignoring the problem for now and just sort of,” he gestures vaguely. “Enjoy the summertime sun?”

“A moment,” Haru goes through her bag. “It’s a long story, but I have these—”

The second the books peek out of her tote, he recognizes the cover immediately. “Cram books? You bought some?”

“Yes!” she answers, mistaking his reaction for eagerness. “It’s a very small gesture, but I’d love for you to have them.”

“I—” he leans away from them, breath catching in his throat. “No.”

“No?” she blinks.

“Not now, senpai.” Trying out his new trick again, he forces his heart to slow down, forces his breathing to regulate again without any of the techniques, and forces himself not to feel any of the fear that he’d normally have to go through. It works, but barely. “I’m not—I don’t think I’m ready to deal with that yet.”

“That’s fine.” Haru puts them away, and as hard as he tries, he can still see how dejected she was. “I’ll hold on to them for you.”

“Thank you.” He glances around. “Any last takers? Q&A is almost up.”

“I have one,” Yusuke pipes up.

“Go for it.”

“How are you?” he asks genuinely.

Ryuji can’t help it—a laugh gets pulled out of him. “How am I?” he repeats.

“Yes. How are you?”

“Uh,” he laughs again. “Not good, man. Not good.”

Everyone startles when Ryuji stands abruptly. He slams down the rest of his lemonade, relieved at how it helps his parched throat. “Alrighty, that took a lot out of me! Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of being surrounded by fake coffee and poser cafe fanatics.”

“I’ll take care of the bill,” Haru says, following his lead and scooting out from the booth.

“What? No, come on. I don’t care how rich you are, at least let me pay half.”

“Ryuji.” She looks him dead in the eye. “I’ll take care of the bill.”

“...Yes ma’am.”

Slowly, they all start filing out, some exiting the cafe while Makoto goes to the till with Haru. Ryuji reaches for Ann’s elbow before she can leave. “Hey.”

Turning her head, it’s as if her lips were permanently stitched downwards. “Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he says, somber. “That was shitty, and it doesn’t matter what I’m going through—you can’t deal with lies. I get that. I won’t put you through that again.”

Ann kisses her palm before slapping it against his forehead. “You better not,” her voice drips in affection. “You said not to console you—”

“I did, and I meant it.”

“But I’m here for you,” she rubs his skin harder, and he winces at the chafing. “You know that, right? No matter how crazy the shit inside your head gets, I want you to talk to me.”

“I know it,” he says, not just because he wants the friction to ease up. “I know it now, for sure.”

“Good.” Ann releases him, and goes to join Haru and Makoto up front. “You might want to head out. Someone’s starting to make a fuss.”

“What?” he turns around, making direct eye contact with Futaba, nursing a blank expression on her face. “I see.”

The bell chimes once more when he steps out, relieved at the cool summer air that hits him. “Shorty,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “What’s good?”

“Here.” Ryuji glances down at her, who’s holding a familiar, now very-crumpled envelope between her fingers. It’s weird seeing her hold the letter announcing his failure like a bomb, but he understands the sentiment. “I had to show Ann because she wouldn’t believe me until I got some proof.”

“Thank you,” he says, shoving it in his pocket. “I’m not mad at you, you know.”

“I know you’re not.” She swallows and stares down at her shoes. Her laces were covered in little beads and stars, something he had bought for her during a weekend hangout once. “This isn’t me pitying you, or showering you with some kind of boohoo potion.”

She swallows again. “I failed my first year of high school. It was for a completely different reason—guilt for who I thought I killed rather than wanting to be something else. But I know. I know so much about what you’re going through.”

Futaba looks up, and his heart wrenches when he sees the tears in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry if I made you sad, or that I kept calling you stupid back then,” she sobs. “I don’t mean it, and I’m so mean to you all of the time but I don’t mean any of it. I told everyone your secret because I wanted to—” she hiccups, and she pushes her glasses to the top of her head. “I wanted to give you your own version of what the Phantom Thieves did for me, but I reached out to you guys back then. No one forced me to do anything, but I took that choice away from you.”

He pulls her in his arms, and her tears are hot even through his shirt. “I know, Futaba,” he says, patting her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

She hits his chest weakly. “Me taking care of you?” she sniffs. “I’m literally the one crying right now.”

“Just for now though,” he shrugs. “Next time I cry, you’ll be the one handing me tissues, I swear.”

They stand there, the two of them standing in the middle of Sapporo while people give them weird looks—Futaba, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks, and Ryuji, refusing to ever let his emotions make things worse for everyone else again.

—

When they get back to the RV, each of them emotionally exhausted, Ryuji goes to kiss the top of Akira’s head. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Akira looks up from his card game with Morgana and Sophia. “You look like you had a wild night. Ann take you all somewhere fun?”

“Totally,” he says, sliding the letter back in his backpack. “Best night ever.”

“Take me next time. Sophia’s kicking our ass.”

“She is not!” Morgana denies, tail swishing. “Just a little,” he relents.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Ryuji announces, hiking his backpack on his shoulders and heading out, before running into Ann outside.

“Oh my god,” she says, disturbed. “He really, really doesn’t know.”

“Yup,” he moves past her. “And we’re keeping it that way.”

#p5 #p5s #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #ryuji sakamoto #akira kurusu #akiryu #pegoryu #ann takamaki #futaba sakura #persona 5 #persona 5 strikers #chapter three! *thumbs up*

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