#a man who is always looked over in favor of Sid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iho6hi2 · 4 months ago

Text

Shattered Ones.

Type: Oneshot

Pairing: Fubuki Shirou/GN! Reader

Summary: You fear that you can never be Fubuki's anchor and day by day, you see him sink further into misery. You follow his example.

Warnings: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Survivor Guilt, Grief/Mourning, Established Relationship, Unresolved Tension, Codependency, Unrequited Love, One-Sided Relationship

Word Count: 3,342

A/N: FUBUKI SHIROU THE MAN THAT YOU ARE YYYOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS. Will forever think about how much trauma Fubuki has gone through and how most of it has gone unaddressed...

Fubuki's eyes are fixed on the picture, unblinking and half-lidded. They have been so for a little over an hour.

His hand grips the photograph. It's not hard enough to cause any creases or damages, but his hold still borders on possessive.

Much like him, you're transfixed. You keep on staring, as if hypnotized by the sight laid out in front of you. However, your attention is not on the photo at all — you don't even give it a single glance. What catches your attention are the dark, heavy bags under Fubuki's eyes; a clear symptom of his restlessness. They're not recent and they have gradually been getting worse.

You're able to relate. Your eyes are also bloodshot and dazed, though they're able to remain focused by pure power of will, distantly observing the direct cause of your own lack of sleep.

He doesn't bother saying anything out loud, nor does he even register your presence lingering behind in the slightest. Fubuki merely gazes at the image, lips continuing to maintain the shape of a frown, which looks natural on his features. He'd spent a good portion of his life looking sullen, after all. Although you can't really tell if his eyes are sad or if he's simply drowning in nostalgia by his lonesome.

You consider approaching him and embracing him, but Fubuki is someone who always looks out of touch with reality whenever physical contact is initiated. He's not sure what to do whenever you hug him out of the blue, though he always manages to play it off as only being caught unprepared.

He would freeze up and blink down at you in shock, lips parted in mute astonishment, before his beautiful, gentle smile takes its typical place on his face. Then he would wrap his arms around you and, even though his muscles tend to tense up whenever you're in close proximity with one another, he would force them to relax midway throughout the hug.

You can see beyond his façade. You always have. Fubuki is not so much an open book as much as he is a torn page from one.

A fleeting scrap of paper with words scribbled on both the front and back. So transparent and yet so opaque at the same time. You struggle to assimilate him despite reading him with such ease.

Either that or you've simply disillusioned yourself into believing you're capable of deciphering him despite it probably not being the case. You don't want to find out the truth in favor of preserving your feelings, which have grown increasingly fragile over the course of your relationship with Fubuki.

You stop leaning against the doorway to your shared bedroom and slowly begin to make your way towards his seat on the bed, doing your best not to step on a loose floorboard and alert him. You loom over his shoulder, studying his furrowed brows and the subtle clench of his jaw first, then redirecting your attention to the picture itself.

Your eyes narrow in suspense before softening in belated realization.

The photograph managed to capture a moment in time where Fubuki appeared to be truly happy for once. His features are young, juvenile. His eyes, which are nothing like today, are round and innocent. They display none of the anguish he holds nowadays and if you didn't know any better, you'd think that he's still capable of smiling so freely and happily.

He never will be. Fate has made it so that he can never find it in his heart to be as carefree as the kid he once used to be.

Your eyes scan the other side of the picture. Fubuki's arms are draped over his little brother's shoulders.

It's Atsuya. You know Atsuya, but you don't really know Fubuki Atsuya. Fubuki Shirou will never know who Fubuki Atsuya could have grown up to be, either.

He only remembers Atsuya as the cocky, overexcited and easily irritable brat. He remembers him as his little brother, who loved to brag and would constantly puff his chest out whenever he scored a goal. His little brother, who tended to surpass him in most aspects. The little brother he lost to an avalanche.

The little brother he grows to miss more and more with every sunrise and every sunset.

Startling you, Fubuki snorts bitterly. "You know what's the worst part about all of this, [Name]?" He doesn't bother looking over his shoulder in order to hold eye contact and you're also in no way surprised he sensed you breathing down his neck, though you were hoping he would be distracted enough not to even notice.

You make no effort to reply; it's not like you could formulate a sensible response regardless. Besides, something tells you Fubuki wasn't expecting an answer and he probably wouldn't appreciate receiving one, either.

At this point, you realize Fubuki isn't necessarily talking to you and more so to himself. You're just an outlet for his frustrations, here to bear witness to his torment and be the shoulder he leans on when everything comes crashing down in flames.

No matter how many times Fubuki opens up his heart to you, it doesn't take away from his pain. Somehow, if that was even possible, it becomes stronger and more prominent with each and every passing day. You know it just as well as he does, but disregarding the fact and choosing to pretend that you're none the wiser doesn't hurt any less.

He continues speaking, clutching the photo in his hand tighter. "I'll be turning twenty-six this year, but he'll always stay only five."

Fubuki Shirou has had acne, he's had to shave. He had went on dates and he had also won countless of matches, not to mention the FFI Cup as well. He's had to constantly conquer his spine-chilling, gruesome fears and treat his own injuries no matter how badly they hurt.

Fubuki Shirou has needed to mature way earlier than any of his peers and he had already developed into an adult, but Atsuya will never know what having a beard was like. He'll never understand how to solve for x. He'll never have his first kiss and he'll never have the pleasure of seeing the ocean or of travelling abroad.

You had never met Fubuki Atsuya. The only one you know is the Atsuya, which can never come close to capturing the real one's essence; he's just a capsule of blurry, distorted, distant memories, which stray from reality.

He doesn't appear in front of you often, but the few times he does, it's always a strange and a memorable experience.

Atsuya only materializes when Fubuki goes through immense amounts of stress, which is a rarity in and of itself with all things considered. Such instances were the time he got replaced as a coach by a member of the Fifth Sector and another was the night before he had to travel to a remote island to rescue kids being tortured by the said organization.

In all of these occurrences, Atsuya shows up abruptly. You never receive a warning and the only telltale signs are his eyes and the intense scowl on his face. Unlike your boyfriend, Shirou, Atsuya's eyes regard you with upfront indifference. You're used to Shirou's sugarcoated acts of reassurance, which do wonders to help distract you from the ugly truth. The truth you consciously attempt to suppress.

Atsuya is nothing like Shirou. He's sardonic, honest, always speaks his mind and never tolerates anything whenever he feels like he's being sligted by someone. Shirou is completely different in that regard; he just keeps on enduring and enduring until he physically can't handle it anymore. Old habits die hard and in some cases, they never die at all.

"Shirou, it's okay if you're—," you begin hesitantly, with your eyes darting anywhere around the room but his face in fear of seeing a flicker of upset directed at you, however he cuts you off before you can finish what you've started.

"It's not okay and you know it, [Name]. It's never going to be okay. Not now and not ever. Please, drop it." Fubuki states and his words carry a tragic tone of finality. He puts an end to whatever uncomfortable conversation you were about to have and leaves in his wake a silence that's just as unbearable and suffocating.

Fubuki didn't raise his voice, but he might as well have just yelled at you right now. Like always, you pipe down with guilt eating away at your insides like a pack of vicious hyenas and simply slump on the bed, keeping noticeable distance between the two of you. The very notion is virgin and celibate, but you don't pay it any mind.

The awkward, tense silence persists for several more mintues before you decide to break it. "Sorry. I always do more bad than good," you sigh and shift to lay on your side, because that way your view of Fubuki is entirely obscured. Whatever emotion contorts his features next, you won't be able to know and this fact brings you immense amounts of relief.

In order for your sanity to remain fully intact, you need to keep yourself blind and ignorant. That's the only way for you to keep holding on.

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault and I shouldn't take it out on you. Atsuya's dead, he has been for a long time and I've accepted that, but every year I'm reminded that he'll never get to grow up like I did. It's like he's stuck in time." Fubuki sniffles without shedding any tears. He's long since lost the ability to cry and all he can do now is scrunch up his nose, staring absently at the ceiling.

You perk up at his words and slowly sit up, cautiously crawling towards him like he's a ticking time bomb you might accidentally set off. You reach him, inch by inch, before hugging his waist and placing your chin on his lap. You're yet to stare into his eyes and, instead, settle for gazing at the messed up pillows to your left.

He makes no move to reciprocate the gesture and you take no offense to it. Even if he were to squeeze your hand or pull you closer, it would be insincere.

You love when Fubuki lays himself bare for you, so you don't need to speculate each and every minute detail in hopes of uncovering hidden meanings. He's fully clothed, but naked to the human eye at the same time.

All you can currently see is the real Fubuki Shirou. The good, the bad and the ugly; you're unable to discern a difference between them. He's always the same to you — ethereal and delicate like porcelain. He's the same man that ensnared you in his trap, whether he's aware of it or not.

You're a mouse captured, moments before your inevitable doom.

"I wish I could've died instead of him, sometimes." Fubuki muses with a half-smile and you tighten your hold on him, miffed.

"Well, I don't think that's what he would've wanted. Have you ever thought about the fact that he would want you to live on for the both of you?" You argue and, for the first time in a while, you force yourself to look at him. There's veins bulging out of your neck as you strain yourself to shout at him.

Fubuki blinks and his amusement is soon replaced with a pensive, thoughtful frown. He stares at the picture again, then redirects his attention to you. He dabs at his eyes, wiping away any tears threatening to spill. Afterwards, he opens the drawer next to his side of the bed and places the old photograph there, face down, before shutting it closed.

He lies back down, but this time he shows you his back rather than his face and then proceeds to pull the covers over his shoulders. "[Name], I don't say it a lot, but I really am sorry."

Your mind jumps to the worst-case scenario and your throat instantly closes up, an uncomfortable lump resting on your epiglottis. There's a pit in your stomach — an allegory for dread.

You struggle to find the words to properly express yourself, though you settle for a simple, "Sorry? What for?" You don't want to hear him say it out loud. A part of you hopes he backtracks like he always does, though something is different this time and not in a good way.

Don't say it. You plead to no avail. You know exactly what kind of storm is heading your way. You've known since the moment you first met him, but you chose to face it head-on. This is what resilience gets you: perpetual despair.

Fubuki, as if reading your mind and choosing to spite you once and for all, places the final nail in the coffin gently, with feather-like meticulousness. His last venture to destroy you, to utterly devastate and crush you, is delivered with a voice akin to that of a lullaby. "I'm sorry for everything."

The lights are off and then it's just static silence between the two of you, under the guise of sleeping or at least trying to.

There's a blizzard outside. The snow and rain pelts hard against the window in your shared bedroom and you can practically hear Fubuki's breath hitching in his throat. You sense him trembling slightly. He seeks no comfort and you don't attempt to give him any; two strangers stuck hostage on a cold bed, claiming they're in love.

Before you realize it, you're crying. The tears drip down and stain your cheeks, but you don't bother wiping them away. You let them flow freely because you fear that you'll be far too numb to bawl like this ever again in the near future. And if Fubuki hears you crying like a baby, he ignores it in favor of suppressing his guilt.

You seek no comfort, especially not his, and he doesn't attempt to give you any. Everything comes full circle when it regards the two of you.

Fubuki's sorry he can't love you the way you love him: devotedly, ardently, unconditionally. Try as he might, he can't bring himself to love anyone. Not anymore.

However, he's selfish and wants to have you remain by his side. He hates being alone — to the point it becomes unbearable. He doesn't think you'll forgive him and he simply can't forgive himself and his actions, either. Perhaps, if you were to despise him from the bottom of your heart, that'd be for the best.

It's better for things to remain this way. The Atsuya in his head agrees, too.

★

"Good morning, [Name]," Fubuki greets you cheerfully the moment you step foot into the kitchen. You're blinded by his smile, the one he uses to sweep truths and details under the rug when he divulges too much against his will.

You play along and return the gesture. It's your forte. You and Fubuki are constantly entangled in an intricate dance, treading on thin ice between lies and sincerity, between hiding and revealing.

How easy it is for the both of you to act like nothing ever happened yesterday is nothing short of disturbing, yet befitting.

You hug him and wrap your arms around his torso, his own reaching out to cradle your face in his cold fingers. His eyes are kind, but there's no sentimental depth when he gazes at you from up-close. You're his polar opposite.

You kiss him and though he's quick to react, you can still see the way his eyes visibly widen in shock before you forcibly close your own so as not to perceive any negative reactions he subtly expresses.

Fubuki's sad because he's consciously leading you on, purposefully, and this kiss is a manifesto of his greed and opportunism. The remorse brewing within him is repressed and kept at bay, determined to do everything in his power to keep you around for as long as possible.

You deepen the kiss and push him against the countertop. His back slams against the cups behind him and one of them falls down, breaking into pieces.

You separate from him, by reflex and definitely not by choice, and cringe. "Sorry. Didn't mean to act like a horndog." The embarrassment creeps in before you can stop it and you merely watch as Fubuki crouches down and begins to pick up each of the shards.

"You always worry too much about everything. I wonder if it's a chronical condition," Fubuki makes an astute observation and you're tempted to roll your eyes because you can hear the snark behind it, though you hold back.

You watch as he carefully holds the pieces and carries them over to the trashcan, blinking with a small smile.

You look down at the floor and notice he missed one. Whether it was done on purpose or not, you can't really tell. With Fubuki, it's always hard to distinguish. You pick it up, holding it between your fingers, and stare right back at your reflection. The likeness of you is distorted, off putting and jarring.

"It's kind of familiar." You begin with a clipped tone. Fubuki stares at you before squatting down in an attempt to figure out what you mean.

It's not like you to be vague, Fubuki thinks. He doesn't like it when you beat around the bush, nor does he appreciate having to guess where your trail of thought leads to. He likes you best when you speak your mind, brash and reckless as it may be. It's familiar, nostalgic, and it makes him homesick.

He follows your gaze and fixes his attention onto the stray piece. He can already see the small cut opening up on your skin after the glass accidentally grazed it. He just smiles; it's not his mess to clean. "What is?"

It reminds me of us, you want to say out loud, but your lips are sealed shut.

The blood from your wound smears against the piece. It doesn't even hurt.

When something is broken, you can always glue it back together. When it's people that are shattered, no amount of glue can be of use.

You didn't know it at the time, yet you tried to play hero with the naïve ambition of binding Fubuki back to reality and away from the tumultuous waters threatening to swallow him whole. Now, you're afflicted with the same cracks you first saw in Fubuki. You never knew self-destruction could be a contagious disease.

"Never mind. I was about to say something lame." You shake your head and proceed to wince from the sting, pretending it hurts. You turn to look at him, raising your hand up to him with pleading eyes. "Kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better?"

"I'll pass," Fubuki declines within a heartbeat, rocking to and fro on his heels. You huff at his flower boy persona.

★

That night, Fubuki wraps his arms around you and brings you close to him, his chin perching itself on top of your head. You, in turn to his sporadic display of affection, snuggle even further into his chest, desperately listening to the sound of his heart, which is surprisingly peaceful in comparison to other nights that fly by just like this.

He holds you tight and despite the soothing heat of his body and the slow, content breaths he lets out, you've never felt colder or more alone.

There's a storm brewing, but it's not outside. It's always been an invisible force between the two of you and only you can see how it will end. You pray that the end is not near, but each and every day you can sense it being your last.

★

The following morning, you see Fubuki holding that same picture of him and his brother.

It feels like heartbreak. You're left to helplessly watch him perish with the knowledge that there's nothing you can do for him.

You're just collateral damage.

#SORRY...#I know its pretty uncommon for ie x reader fanfics to be posted on the tumblr community #so im sorry for the jumpscare everyone #You can ignore this #this is more like a character study tho #fubuki shirou x reader #fubuki shirou #inazuma eleven #inazuma eleven x reader

35 notes · View notes

yourmommygay · 1 year ago

Text

Faking it all: part 2

Summary: high school au where colby is the popular guy and chloe is the shy good girl, one day colby gets fed up with Amber's constant flirting so he asks chloe to be his fake girlfriend. Will they fall in love im not sure.

Pairings: colby brock x plus size!chloe sanchez (aka you reading this) , sam golbach x Amanda sid (oc) , jake webber x Tara yummy.

THIS IS A SERIES, MDI 18+.

Warnings: explicit language, smut, mutual pinning, bullying, fighting, mentions of abuse, colby being kind of a dick at first (but not to you), Amber being a bully (I love Amber so much, she would never pick on some1 I know but it's just for the story)

Prt 1 here

Most days chloe would sit in Mrs smiths classroom at lunchtime, this was one of those days. Sitting in the seat close to the window she was watching a group beginning to form around Amber and colby. Huffing chloe turned her head downwards and carried on reading a book she recently brought.

Chloe's phone pinged and she picked it up seeing it was a video from Amanda, in the video colby and Amber where standing there. "I don't like you Amber, I'm kindof already seeing someone anyway" colby said Amber quickly questioned who not bothering to cover up her jealousy, "chloe, I'm dating chloe" colby replied. Chloe's eyes widened, she was in fact not dating colby. However, she wishes that she was.

Just after the video she heard the classroom door swing open and slam shut, "I knew you would be in here" colby said walking over making sure the door was locked. "Whyd you lock the door?" Chloe asked colby glancing at him, "everyone is following me and I need to ask you for a favor" colby looked almost desperate.

"Let me guess, you want me to be your fake girlfriend?" Chloe asked him not daring to look up from her book, "wha- how did yo- um.. yeah. Only if your ok with that obviously I'm not gonna push you to do it" colby said rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I could do that, after all I do kinda owe you for always sticking up for me against the bullies" chloe said putting the bookmark in her book before placing the book into her bag. "So how do you wanna walk outta here? holding hands? Linked arms? Arm around my shoulders?" Chloe asked colby standing up right infront of him looking up at him as she was only 5'2, chloe thought.

Curse colby and his tallness.

Colby immediately answered. "What ever your comfortable with" chloe nodded in thought before putting on her bag and grabbing colbys face, kissing his cheek. "To make them think there was another reason for the door being locked, you want them to really buy into this don't you?" Chloe grabbed Colby's hand and pulled him over to the door, unlocking it and opening it to see Amber being up front of the crowd. "Can I help you Amber?" Chloe said.

"Yeah you stole my man" Amber scoffed. Chloe hummed in agreement for a second before turning to colby. "Ok, baby if you want to date Amber go to her, if you want to stay with me then come to me" chloe walked over to Amber standing slightly to her right. Colby started walking towards Amber before moving completely over to chloe laughing, pulling chloe into a hug burying his face in her neck. "I guess it decided Amber, he can date whoever he wants. Oh, he wasn't your man. Never was" chloe grabbed colbys hand again pulling him away from the crowd of people.

"You did good back there, with the faking" colby said chuckling. In all honesty chloe forgot she was faking, or at least was meant to be faking. She really did want colby to chose her, she always had.

"Can we just get out of here I got 2 free periods next" colby asked chloe walking towards the school parking lot towards his car, chloe just nodded before saying. "Can we go to our spot please?" Colby nodded, as he got into the drivers seat and chloe climbed into the passengers seat.

A/n I know these are short chapters but I'm a night owl and well it's 4:24am for me in England and I'm still awake haha. Anyway hope you liked this short chapter.

#colby brock imagine #colby brock #sam golbach #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #sam golbach imagine #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach story #sam golbach smut

74 notes · View notes

peony-pearl · 6 months ago

Text

@khoc-week - Journal

I decided to do a little snippet section of what Nimue's journal could look like; it doesn't track the induction of every team member, but mostly some important emotional and plot beats for Nimue (without being too long or spoilery XD)

Day 1: I have decided to chronicle my journey after finding quite a handsome book in a marketplace located somewhere known as Twilight Town. For a world that seems so established, I have never heard of it. I must be very far from home, which feels stranger than having been stuck in the Realm of Darkness.

If my companion, Merlock, is to be trusted, then Yen Sid has become a man of old age, meaning many years have passed while I was locked away. It has been a week since I returned to the Realm of Light and each day my desire to see him cowering and curled at my feet only becomes stronger. I will rid the realm of his cowardice and falsehoods, and I will have peace.

Day 23: It seems Chaos doesn't intend on giving us much space. He has followed us from world to world, even through Merlock's use of dark portals. But he doesn't seem to want to turn us over to Maleficent. He is like a buzzing fly, but I have seen what he is capable of. If we are to be followed around by a godling, I suppose I'd rather it be one that enjoys our company. Merlock isn't too enthusiastic about his presence, but I think I managed to convince him how this could work in our favor. He's a stick in the mud, but he does see how being on the good side of such a creature would be beneficial to us.

Day 30: We were so close. We found his tower! We found his tower and we managed to corner Yen Sid like the vermin he is! But he has allies we weren't prepared for. Fairies, three of them, and a small group of young warriors at his disposal. In the ruckus, a girl tried to stop me with no weapon, no magic; she rushed over to me and grabbed my hands and the hilt of my keyblade in an effort to subdue me. Such a brave little maiden! I didn't have the heart to toss her across the room; unfortunately Merlock doesn't have the heart I have, and he did toss her rather unceremoniously onto her lover boy, a young soldier who serves a 'King Mickey'.

In the middle of the fight, Yen Sid and the Fairies that serve him relocated us to a different world before we could stop him. I don't remember much after that, except for Merlock stopping me from blindly swinging my keyblade, and I had screamed so loud I have now lost my voice. Merlock now insists I drink an herbal concoction to soothe my throat; he won't leave until I drink it. Perhaps he does have a heart.

Day 50: We have a new attendee in the ranks. A girl named Mint attempted to rob Owen as he wandered through the crowds in Corona. He handled her rather swiftly, although once she caught sight of Chaos, she became much more agreeable. She has apparently lost her title of crown princess as of recently, and is looking for something called a Relic to win back her status against her sister. When she learned of our goal, she became enamored with the thought of gaining some powerful magic; and thus we are now a party of five. (Six if you count Puck, but he is Owen... or is Owen Puck? I am still figuring that one out)

Day 62: The days are feeling shorter; it is rather an odd thing. When I was first released, the hours dragged by as I wanted nothing more than to make my way to Yen Sid's tower. To feel my claws tear at him and hear him beg for mercy. But now I can barely keep track of the time. I often find myself in Merlock's presence, hearing his tales of his travels and attempted conquests. He's a talented shapeshifter, and the talisman Maleficent gave him has tremendous magic. I told him I'll bet he's the best sorcerer I've met and he laughed, remarking how I'm saying that out of spite for the man we intend to rob. I laughed hard for the first time in so so long. I didn't want that moment to end, and yet there was nothing incredibly special about it; but I will always remember that sunset.

Day 70: Owen discovered our newest addition today: A sorcerer locked in a rather fantastic mirror who goes by the name of Magnifico. He is an odd fellow. It seems isolation was not very kind to him.

He spoke of a land called Rosas... it has been abandoned since I was a girl. I don't think anyone has lived there since my grandparents' time. Seeing him try to come to terms with this was more painful than I'd like to admit, and thus I offered him a place with us. He seemed reluctant at first, but overall he had little other choice, and he accepted our conditions, and is very enthusiastic about our goals, as it will benefit him greatly.

Day 100: I have come to find out that the girl who tried to stop me from obliterating Yen Sid some weeks ago is named Roxanne, and in putting her hand on my keyblade, it has unlocked her own powers. I saw her put herself in my way today, clumsily wielding her key. She was so determined, though, it was incredibly charming. I yanked the blade from her quicker than she could react. Whoever is training her is giving her quite poor advice, but she has a strong light. Harle managed to push the poor girl through a dark portal and I decided to be a good sport and at least toss her keyblade in after her.

Day 111: I have been humbled today. Our newest member is a scientist named Hollander. A man who allowed himself to be his own experimental model on the darkness; his work mirrors that of mine many years ago, the work Yen Sid destroyed.

He is slowly succumbing to a power he has taken years to control. His body has become twisted and gnarled with dark powers flowing through him. One day, if we don't find a way to reverse his situation, he will become a heartless, and he isn't sure if there will be enough of his true body left to create a Nobody.

Day 130: It is hard to believe how much time has passed since I have been released. My days seem so bright - so much like my days in Felicity.

I look to my team as they rest after a long day. As they talk, and laugh.

I feel nostalgic for days I have lost; days I will never have again.

How can so much joy bring so much pain?

Day 150: I saw it in his eyes; a feeling I wasn't prepared to feel such happiness surge through me again.

I spoke with Merlock, about how we had demolished a rather large heartless Maleficent had put in our path with ease; about plans; about the team, about how we would face glory soon and revel in the spoils of taking Yen Sid's magic.

His excited laughter met mine, and as I felt so jovial, I remembered him.

I remembered Yen Sid, looking at me with those eyes. I thought of old talks of old friends and confidants and those we fought together with.

I became withdrawn, and quickly excused myself for bed, pretending an old injury was acting up. He didn't seem too concerned, which consoled me. I passed by the team, who all had something to say as I retired; but each time I tried to respond in full, my heart felt too tight.

I can't do it again. I can't become attached.

I've finally made my decision, despite how much it hurts; it will only hurt worst if I let it go any further.

When Yen Sid is defeated and I have ensured Merlock's inheritance of his magics -

I will disappear from this world once more, and return to the embrace of the Realm of Darkness, where neither time nor light can hurt me again.

#kingdom hearts oc #Nimue #my writing

9 notes · View notes

pangolinheart · 1 year ago

Text

FFXIVWrite 2023 DAY 11 - ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

Some more SidWoL for those of you who enjoy it! I'm reasonably happy with how this one turned out, so it might get us it's own name later. If anyone enjoyed it, let me know and I can try more with this pairing.

(Also, full disclosure, the universe apparently didn't want me to write this one, because my power went out last night while I was writing and I had to hand-write more than half of it. In the dark. By flashlight. Also Tumblr Mobile tried to sabotage my formatting and removed all my italics, but it should be fixed now.)

Rating: Teen Genre: Angst Characters: Sidurgu Orl, Z'rhiki Irhi (Warrior of Light) Pairings: Sidurgu Orl/Warrior of Light Word Count: 2,333 Content Warnings: Implied character death

It was the same dream as always; the grassy plain, the blinding sun, his parents kneeling on the ground. He knew they were his parents even though their features had grown blurrier with time. That was just how this dream went. How much of it was a memory, and how much of it was just a memory of the dream? There was a man in chainmail standing over them, sword pulled back, about to swing. “Don’t look,” His father told him. He never listened.

He blinked. Did he? He must have, because suddenly the dream around him had shifted. The lush green meadows were replaced by windswept tundra. His feet sank not into soft soil, but snow. A frigid gale buffeted his face with icy snowflakes. The sky above had grown dark with thick, grey clouds, the only light the moonlight that slipped between them. The man with the sword was the same, but this time, kneeling in the snow was… Fray?

Wait, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t how it had happened.

He hadn’t even seen Fray die.

“Don’t look,” Fray’s voice was as measured and calm as ever.

“FRAY-“ He started to call, but another barrage of bitter wind and hail made him flinch.

When he recovered, he was no longer cold. The snow was gone, replaced by hard-packed dirt. Around him rose neither rolling hills nor frozen peaks, but soaring cliffs of sandstone. Just over the clifftops, the sun was beginning to set. This… didn’t look familiar. Where was he?

This time, the man had changed as well, though he remained frozen in the same pose. Rather than the blue and silver regalia of Ishgard’s Temple Knights, he wore the warped black and red armor of a Garlean Soldier. The longsword that had been clutched in his hands was now some sort of modified blade, though the handle curved past the grip, like a machinist’s pistol. He looked down, and his stomach dropped as if it was full of stones.

Kneeling in the dry dirt was not his parents, not Fray, but her.

The last rays of the sinking sun splashed orange across the landscape and mingled with the hues of her mismatched eyes as she looked up at him, forcing a reassuring smile.

“Don’t look, Sid,” she said, and this time the blade swung.

“NO!” He lunged forward, but he knew that he would be too late.

He was always too late.

Just before the warm blood could splatter on his face, Sidurgu woke with a start. He sat up abruptly, eager to put any sort of distance he could between himself and the dream. With the heel of his hand, he pushed damp hair from his forehead and out of his eyes. He was shaking, he realized. He took a moment to catch his breath before casting his gaze to the bed beside him, to find the woman next to him dozing peacefully under the blankets. He didn’t know what he thought he would see, but he was relieved, nonetheless.

Dammit.

He had tried so hard not to end up here. Not “here” in his bed above the Forgotten Knight, Rhiki curled up next to him – he obviously hadn’t tried that hard – but here…

Caring.

He had told himself from the start not to get attached. At first it was because their arrangement was temporary. She was there as a favor to a fellow Dark Knight and her predecessor’s friend. She would help him defend this mysterious girl until more permanent arrangements could be made, and in exchange for her time he would teach her some of his tricks. And then, presumably, she would leave. Simple and transactional.

But then he became the “more permanent arrangements”, and she kept stopping by. It was nice to have another adult to talk to, so he didn’t complain, but still he had said to himself, don’t get attached.

He had reminded himself over and over again.

Don’t get attached, he had thought as he watched her regale Rielle with tales of her travels.

Don’t get attached, he had told himself as she helped him stitch and bandage the wounds he had hidden from his charge.

Don’t get attached, he had repeated as she laughed at her own joke over drinks in the dead of night.

He knew what would happen if he started to like her, if he started to care about her. He knew because it was the same thing that always happened to people he cared about: something terrible. Something that would eat away at him day after day after day. Something that would tear open all of the healing wounds. Something that would hurt.

He should know better.

Once bitten, twice shy, the saying went. What about twice bitten? Thrice?

How many times would he have to learn the same lesson?

Until it stuck, apparently.

Rielle, at least, was different. Rielle was here, where he could protect her. Or at least die trying, his cynicism added. But Z’rhiki was the Warrior of Light (though, even were she not, she wasn’t the type to stay put for too long.) She was constantly being called from one crisis to the next. Wherever the battle was, there she was. He didn’t even know where she went half the time, at least until she returned. He no longer expected her to lose interest or voluntarily break off contact. What he expected now was much, much worse.

At least she had told them where she was headed this time: Ala Mhigo, to fight a seemingly impossible war. He couldn’t go with her, of course. He had Rielle to think about. She probably wouldn’t have had him anyway. All he could do was wait – wait to hear from the rumors of strangers that the Warrior of Light had died hundreds of malms away. He had seen people die, and he had not seen people die but had known it was happening, and that he was powerless to stop it, and he wasn’t sure which one was worse.

His heart was still racing. He took a few more deep breaths to quiet it as he tried to scrub the lingering traces of the dream from his mind. He had enough painful memories without adding ones that hadn’t even happened yet. He leaned back and planted his hands on either side of him, tilting his head back and feeling one of the vertebrae in his neck pop. It was impossible to find a pillow, or any type of surface, that accommodated his horns, so he always woke up sore. Even so, he preferred waking to a stiff neck over waking from... other things.

His movement must have disturbed Rhiki’s sleep, because she stirred next to him. She made a few quiet, mumbled sounds, then opened her eyes. After blinking a few times to clear the bleary haze of sleep from them, she turned her head to look at him. Seeing him wide awake, she propped herself up on the backs of her elbows. “Y’alright?” She asked, words still slurred from drowsiness.

He nodded, not trusting his voice quite yet.

“Nightmare?” She asked. Her tone was sympathetic. She had her fair share of nightmares too, he knew. He doubted there had ever been a Dark Knight without them.

“Yes.” There was no point in lying about it. “It’s nothing. You can go back to sleep. I’m fine.”

She continued to stare at him, showing no signs of accepting his offer. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound surprised. The silence lingered for a moment. “Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head. “I’m alright. Don’t worry about me.”

She eyed him for a few more seconds, and he sunk back into the bed, hoping that lying down would appease her. It seemed to, and she slipped back fully beneath the blankets as well.

He lay there for a few minutes, fighting with himself over whether to say anything. He shouldn’t, he knew. He should just let her fall back asleep. Keep his stupid mouth shut. It would be better for both of them.

He was usually such a quick learner.

Instead, he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. It startled a small “mrrp!” from her throat. She didn’t protest, but she did crane her neck to look at him over her shoulder, inquisitive. He wasn’t usually the type to initiate physical contact. She was normally the one who insisted on lying against him or on top of him.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing,” He grumbled back, though the feeling of her warm skin against his, the rise and fall of her stomach under his arm, did soothe him somewhat. It anchored him to that moment, so his mind wouldn’t drift to the bloodstained past or the uncertain future. It reminded him that she was really there.

Once again, he should just leave it at that.

“You shouldn’t go to Ala Mhigo,” he said after a minute had passed.

She looked over her shoulder again. “What? Why?”

“It’s not your fight. It’s got nothing to do with you. Don’t you have enough battles without picking up other people’s?”

“Sid, I can’t just not go.” She insisted, though gently. He had expected this was how the conversation would go.

“Why not?” He countered.

She faltered, though, to her credit, only for a second. “They need me.”

He wanted to point out that everyone needed her. Always.

Including him.

He huffed, his breath rustling her hair. “Do they? Why? You’re a formidable fighter – no one will deny you that, least of all me – but you’re no general, or tactician. You’re not even really a soldier. So, what, exactly, do they need you for? One woman, can’t turn the tides against an entire army, even one as strong as you.”

“Well,” she paused to consider this, finally looking away from him and resting her head back on the pillow. “They need all the help that they can get. I’ve fought the Garleans before, even if it wasn’t in an all-out war. I guess, if nothing else, my being there will be good for morale.”

“Do you even want to go?”

“I-“ She stopped herself before she could give him a real answer. “It doesn’t really matter. The Scions have decided to help, and it’s not like I can just quit.”

Of course she couldn’t. She was one of those “hero” types that he usually couldn’t stand. Self-sacrificing to a fault. Never able to rest when there was someone in need of saving. It didn’t matter what she wanted, or how she felt. She had to go. She had to help her friends. Were the Scions her friends? If they were, then why did she always end up here, with him, in a shitty inn room above a shitty tavern. He didn’t have any delusions about his own importance to her, of course - maybe it didn’t matter if it was him at all - but he had started to realize that when she was at her breaking point, she came here. He didn’t know why, but he knew that she never told the Scions any of the things she told him – about the nightmares or the pain or the guilt or the anger. She’d said as much to him once. He’d never met any of them, and didn’t particularly hope to, but he knew that for some reason, she thought she had to hide all of that from them. But when they called, or whenever the world needed saving, she came running. She did want to help people; of that he had no doubt – she was friendly and kind and probably too empathetic. But he was beginning to suspect that, in addition to all the good intentions and noble ideas, this was just her favorite way to hurt herself. Some sort of bizarre masochism. She knew it was going to hurt her, scar her, but she was happy to do it anyway.

He didn’t say any of this, though. This time he was smart enough not to say anything at all.

She didn’t say anything either, and he was starting to wonder if she had decided to try and fall back asleep when she said: “Why do you suddenly care so much about me going to Ala Mhigo.”

He sighed. Why did he care? He had tried telling himself not too. He had reminded himself what it had felt like to lose Fray, more than a year ago. Did he really want to put himself through that again?

Maybe he was a bit of a masochist too.

“No particular reason,” He replied, glad she couldn’t really see his face from where her head was tucked under his chin. “Just… a gut feeling.”

This time she didn’t just turn her head, but squirmed around in his hold until she was facing him. She didn’t look irritated, just… regretful. Normally she would have teased him for showing such an interest in her affairs, but she must have sensed that the mood was different tonight. She peered up at him, but he carefully avoided her gaze. “Sid, you don’t have to worry about me. You know I’ll be fine, and that I’ll be back to pester you before you know it.”

“I know.” He lied. He didn’t think even she believed that. But these days, it seemed, they were both in the business of lying to themselves. He hoped it was true. He wanted it to be true. But he couldn’t shake that nagging feeling.

“Good,” She yawned widely.

He finally released her, unable to think of anything more to say. He had known she would say no, but for some reason he had felt like it was important to ask anyway. He would just have to trust her. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe she would be someone he didn’t lose.

He doubted it, but it was a nice thought, anyway.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #drk job quest spoilers #sidurgu orl #sidurgu #rhiki tag #auggie writes #SidWoL #WoLSid

11 notes · View notes

danniburgh · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected, unavoidable, unforgettable.

so, i asked if anyone wanted to read something like this and it had 13 notes so i did it

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x f!reader

Summary: Marcus Moreno has a new assistant, a new, very pretty assistant, and struggles to keep it professional, even when she's what he was looking (not that he was looking) for in someone, even when Missy is totally on board with her as her dad's girlfriend, even when she helped them save the world (again) until he can't anymore.

Word count: +8.2k

A/N: ITS FLUFFY GUYS ITS PURE FLUFF OMG IM SURPRISED IT EVEN HAS A PLOT LIKE I IMAGINED THIS SHIT YESTERDAY AKDJNAKDJNA

Masterlist // Read in ao3 // ko-fi

If you said you weren't nervous you would be a complete liar. You were shaking, it was like you were standing in the middle of the street with nothing on but a t-shirt and shorts while it was snowing. You felt exposed, nervous and somehow vulnerable.

It was your first day at your new job. At your dream job.

Even since The Heroics were around you always wanted to be one of them, even though you didn't actually had any powers of your own you wished to the stars almost every night to be part of them, they were, as well as maybe all children's on the world, your heroes.

And now, two minutes before eight o'clock, there you were, playing with the strap of your messengers bag, waiting for the security guard to let you in while he was looking for your name on the list of expected people, wondering how the offices looked like, imagining who you'd be working with.

When they called you to tell you, after a week of trials and interviews, that you got the job, they didn't actually let you know who you'd be working with, what they did tell you was that you'd be someone's assistant. A Heroic's assistant.

And for you that was enough, you weren't expecting more than that, you didn't want any more than that. That was perfect. More than perfect, wonderful, marvelous, even.

The guard let you in and told you that at the end of the day they would have ready your clearance card, so you can enter the building without issue, that made you shiver, you'll have your own card, to The Heroics HeadQuarters. You felt a bit dizzy only by imagining it, you walked (as best as you could on those evil high heels you put on that morning) to the open elevator and pushed the button to the twenty-fifth door, where they'd told you someone was expecting you.

When the elevator doors opened you saw one of the people that interviewed you for the job tapping on her data pad, you walked towards her and she swept you over with her eyes.

"You dressed well" you frowned, looking at your pencil skirt, wondering if she was being amicable or sarcastic "follow me" you nodded and she started walking through the hallway "so your new boss is expecting you, he already knows about you and he already has work for you to do" you walked in front of a glass table with a small datapad on top and a wireless phone on the side "this one is your desk" she said tapping her fingers on the glass, you rushed to let your bag on the table while following her, she stopped walking in front of a fogged cristal door and you with her "please, you went through a difficult selection process, don't mess it up" you shook your head, not knowing what to respond, she knocked on the door and it opened to the side "Mister Moreno? your new assistant is here" you eyes went shut and you let out a small gasp when you heard his name, you were going to be Marcus Moreno new assistant? you were sure this all was a dream, the man was a legend!

"Thank you, Sid" you opened your eyes at the sound of his voice, Sid turned to you and gestured for you to come into the office of the Leader of The Heroics, you gave to steps into the office and were about to pinch yourself on the arm when you saw his tall figure walking towards you and raised up his hand to shake yours "welcome" he said your name and you smiled at the sound of it on his voice "come, sit, we have work to catch on" he turned around to sit behind the desk, you heard the door closing and turned, Sid wasn't there anymore, you stood for a few seconds, trying to process everything that was going on, then you felt an intense stare in your body and looked at your new boss, he smiled at you lifting one corner of his lips and moved his head to indicate the chair in front of him for you to sit.

"Thanks" you muttered as you sat, and as he started explaining his way of working and what would become your basic functions as his assistant, you couldn't stop thinking about all the times you've seen that same man sitting in front of you fight criminals, end wars, save people, hug children and talk to important people all over the world. A few days ago that man in front of you was just an image on your tv (and phone and computer, if you were honest, but no one was counting) and now he was there, in front of you, in the flesh, talking to you, addressing you, knowing you, looking at you. This was one of the best, most unexpected surprised you've ever gotten.

"Is everything clear?" he asked you, you woke up from your daydream and nodded. You weren't sure at what, but you'd figure it out eventually.

"Yes, Mister Moreno" he smiled again.

"Great, can you do me a favor?" he said, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, you nodded "can you go downstairs and get Missy? she's training" you nodded a few more times.

"Sure, I can do that" you said, getting up, really unsure of what he meant by downstairs but you didn't want to ask, you walked to the door and it slided open, you turned to him, he was holding the door remote.

"Basement two" he told you, you nodded again "thanks" you heard while getting out.

"No problem" you yelled back, already out of the office.

He saw you walking away and closed the door again, wondering if you'd be able to find your way to the training basement, he thought you could, you seemed to him like a smart girl... like a smart woman.

He would be lying if he said he didn't liked you at first sight, for him you had something that he didn't know how to describe, but he probably could point out to others, he did think you'd be an excellent assistant by just looking at your resume, that's why he chose you it the end, but when he saw you on the doorstep of his office for the first time he noticed it on you, he didn't know what it was, but it was there, in your eyes, in you, and he liked it.

Wandering through the hallways of The Heroics HeadQuarters looking for the exact room in which your boss' daughter was trying wasn't exactly how you wanted nor expected to spend your first day on the job, but you knew Missy, at least how she looked like, you didn't think she'd be that hard to find.

After what it felt like an eternity (but it was more like ten minutes) walking on your devilish heels you found the room where Missy, along with a blond girl (that looked really small to be lifting fifty pound weights), a stretchy slim boy and a tall floating girl were training, you weren't sure if you were even allowed to enter the room so you stood in the entrance just waiting to be noticed by either one of the kids.

"Who are you?" you heard a small pitchy voice below you, you turned down and saw the small strong blonde girl "my name is Guppy" she said, you smiled.

"Hi Guppy, I'm Mister Moreno's new assistant" you answered, extending your hand so she could shake it with hers "it's nice to meet you" She shook your hand very strongly and ran to Missy, the girl was dressed in a pink shirt and had her brown hair tied up in a low bun, she looked at you and somehow made you feel really small. She approached you and you felt as if she was studying you with her stare "hi Missy, your dad sent me for you" you said, very low, intimidated by a middle school girl.

"You're the new one?" she asked, with a warning look and crossed arms on her chest, you nodded, she took a step closer to you, an action that made her tilt her head upwards to look at you in the eyes, normally looking at a kid like that would make either one of you laugh, but her eyes were deep (as deep as her father's, you noticed) and she had one eyebrow raised. You didn't know what to say, or what to do for that matter, you didn't want to disrespect your boss' daughter, but you were starting to feel very uncomfortable "I'm Missy, it's very nice to meet you" she said suddenly with a smile, taking your hand to shake it. You let out a small, very surprised "oh" when she changed her attitude. She released your hand and started walking, you followed her.

For a slim and small girl she walked really fast, you had to almost run to keep the pace (you were blaming the shoes at the time, after some time you did realise she was indeed very fast), and she was speaking (quite loudly) about her training while walking.

"And Guppy really, really likes to throw those little fish she makes with water at us, even though we told her to stop, but she's cute so she gets away with it" she said, pressing the elevator button to get the doors to open "you know, I'm really glad my dad has someone to help him" she said, entering the elevator with you behind her "maybe now he can finish up earlier and we can have dinner at home instead of his office" she let out with a sigh.

"Don't worry, I will make sure he gets home to have dinner with you" you said, minding more the pain in your feet and glancing at your wrist watch, not actually knowing how important those words were to the girl, you didn't see her smile when you said that, you didn't see the glow rising in her eyes when she watched herself sitting next to his dad, having a half nice, warm, almost cooked dinner at home while watching some movie on tv, instead of sitting in front of him in his office eating take out.

She stood there in silence, you felt her stare, you actually felt her eyes looking at you, all of you, but by that point you didn't even mind, you wanted to sit down as soon as you could and start with whatever your boss told you to do. The elevator opened and you both walked down the hallway towards the office, she knocked the door three times and it opened, Missy entered the office very nonchalantly.

"'Sup, father figure" she said, making you snort, both Moreno's looked at you standing in the doorframe.

"Sorry" you said, and walked backwards to sit behind your desk, you heard the door slide closed and you sighed, it was only nine in the morning and you were already exhausted.

Missy looked at his father, who was looking back at his datapad, she sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, Marcus felt his daughter stare on his head, he looked up to her and took off his glasses.

"What?" he asked her, Missy smiled.

"I like her" the girl said, he glanced at the door and looked back at his daughter, nodding "she's really pretty" she said, making her father smile "so you agree?" she said.

"Missy..." he cut her out, the girl laughed.

_____________________________

The phone rang again, you took the call without looking at who was calling.

"Marcus Moreno's office?" you said still typing on you data pad.

"Hello" Missy said "he forgot to pick me up from school again?" she asked, you jumped out of the chair, looking at your watch.

"Oh gosh, Missy" you gasped, it was twenty minutes after Missy's school day ended "I'm so sorry, he's still on a meeting" you said, thinking of what to do "don't worry, hang in there, I'm coming" you said, hanging up the phone.

You took your bag and ran as fast as you could, you pushed the elevator button several times until the doors opened and pushed the main floor button. While the elevator went down you typed a message for your boss to see when his meeting was over "If I'm not there when you're done, I went to pick up Missy from school". The elevator doors opened and you ran to the tramcar so it'd take you to the parking lot.

When Marcus checked his phone, half an hour later, he felt (once again, for the third time on that week, and the first time in the day) like the worst father ever. He quickly dialed your phone number (that he'd already memorized) trying to think what to say, trying to think how to thank you for what you were doing, knowing you didn't have to.

"Mister Moreno?" you answered.

"Oh god, I'm sorry" he said "I know it's not your job, thank you so much for going to take her, thank you, I promise you won't have to do that again, and I will make it up to you"

"You're welcome" said Missy, Marcus widened his eyes "I don't mind if she comes to school for me everyday, you know?" you smiled.

"Missy" Marcus muttered, realizing just then he was on speaker and they were on the car. "I'm sorry, honey, I'm really sorry"

"I know that, don't worry" she said, Marcus felt doubly guilty, because his daughter had all the right to be angry at him yet she understood that her dad was bussy "did you know she drives an ecological car?" she asked, turning to you, she was sitting in the co-pilot's seat, smiling widely "it's so cool!"

"I-I didn't know, that's great" Marcus said, smiling at the sound of her daughter's happiness.

"So she's been working with you for two months and you didn't know the car she drives? That is cold, father" Missy scolded him, making you laugh. Your laughter made Marcus smile.

"I'm sorry" he apologized, you didn't know if it was to you or to his daughter or maybe to both, there was a small pause "see you girls here." he said suddenly and hung up the call. Missy looked at you.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked, you gulped, not even knowing you were smiling and glanced at her, Missy noticed how you gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Nothing" you said. Missy grinned at you.

"Look, I may be a kid, and I may not know very much about things, but I've seen those kind of smiles" she said, playing with a strand of her hair. "my teacher smiles like that when she talks to the soccer coach, and the soccer coach smiles like that as well when she talks to my teacher" you didn't know what to say, or how to act. "do you like my dad?" she asked, you choked a bit on your own respiration and Missy gave you a quick worried glance.

"Missy..." you stuttered.

"It's ok, y'know?" she said, trying to reassure you "I see how he looks at you" you closed your eyes a bit, forgetting for a split second you were driving, feeling your stomach turn at the mere thought of Marcus Moreno even looking at you in any way. "and I really think he shouldn't be alone anymore" she murmured, looking out the window, you looked at her, she was playing with the thin necklace she was wearing, with a small, barely noticeable smile on her lips and a nostalgic stare on the street "he's been taking care of everything for so long, I think he needs to let someone else take care of him" you smiled at that "and you do that when he's at work" you looked at her "besides me, but he doesn't listen to me anyway" she said, returning at her normal sassy, know-it-all self.

A comfortable silence fell upon the both of you, you were trying to process what she told you, trying your best to not focus only on her statement of her dad looking at you, but admiring her maturity, amazed by that girl sitting next to you, barely able to look out of the window of the car, that was so assured of herself and was so aware of her situation that she was thinking about her father's happiness, interest and well being. Then you got self-conscious, was your crush for your boss noticeable? was Missy the only one that had any notion of how you looked at her father? did your co-workers know about how you looked at your boss? You hoped they didn't, because it was nothing, even if Missy just told you he looks at you in some way , it was nothing, you were sure of it. Yes maybe you dreamed about your boss taking you out, maybe when the day was slow you daydreamed of him making you go into his office and getting comfy on the one couch he had on it and just talk to you until he remembered he had something to you, and maybe sometimes you got those dreams that were dirty and steamy as well but it was nothing. Wasn't it?

"You okay?" Missy asked when you parked. You nodded and smiled at her. "you didn't answer my question" she said, looking at you with a funny but serious face.

Your smile grew wide, you looked at the girl and somehow knew she wouldn't tell him a single thing you two talked inside that car, you knew that even though she was a kid, and that she was your boss' daughter, she would keep the secret guarded until you wanted.

"Yeah, I think I do" you said, Missy smiled at you "I like him" she clapped a few times before getting out of the car, making you laugh.

_____________________________

You were so concentrated to get everything your boss told you to write in the email you were typing that you didn't notice the little crouched shadow trying to sneak next to your desk.

"Hi" you heard, you jumped, startled. Missy smiled and stood up straight.

"You scared me" you said, putting a hand on your chest, smiling back at the girl standing in front of you with her backpack hanging from her right shoulder "honey, your dad is busy right now" you told her "he's on a conference call" you pointed to the conference room at the beginning of the hall.

"Yeah, I know, I came to see you" she responded with a more serious tone, you tilted your head in surprise.

"Oh yeah? what for?" you asked.

"I wanna talk to you" Missy said, walking towards her father's office, waiting for you to open the door with the remote she knew you had.

"Alright then, let's get inside" you stood up with your datapad and your phone and opened the door for her. You both walked into the office and she dropped the bag she was carrying on the floor next to the door, she walked to the couch and sat there, then she tapped the seat next to her with a hand, you closed the door and went to sit next to her. "do you mind if I finish up some emails while we talk?" you said, she nodded.

"Yeah, no problem" you smiled at her response, even so wary as well of her tone.

"So..." she started, you made a small noise while resuming your typing, acknowledging her "how long you've been working here?" she asked.

"Three months now" she made a thinking sound and you saw her putting her hand on her chin.

"I see"

"Why?" you asked, sending one email and opening a new draft.

"Just wondering" she said, looking over your shoulder, curious of what you were doing.

"I see" you said, she laid back into the back of the couch, smiling, you crossed one of your legs over the other.

"Do you trust my dad?" she asked, looking at your shoes.

"Of course I do" you looked at her, you noticed her almost spaced out expression "Missy are you ok?" you asked, she nodded.

"Yeah" she looked back at you and smiled, you smiled back "I'm just asking" you hesitated a bit but let out a sigh, agreed to her silent reassurance that she was indeed okay and looked back down into the datapad.

You both stayed there, enjoying each others company for a few minutes, she was looking at you, letting you finish your job, she was thinking at how much better things had gotten since you came to work with her dad because somehow you'd make her dad's life easier, she was thinking at how he put more attention to her than before, and more attention in general, she was thinking at the way her dad looked at his assistant, even though he has told her many (many) times now that he can't look at her in any other way than his assistant because that what she was, even when Missy knew that they both wanted to be something else, she didn't know what, she just knew that the wanted something more, she also was thinking about you, about how it'd be fun to have you around more, about how she would really like to have somebody to talk about stuff she knew she couldn't tell her dad, like the way she was starting to see Wild Card or how her body made her feel sometimes, she thought about how it would be really fun to have someone to mother her, once she saw you hit send to the last response you were supposed to write she called your name.

"Can I hug you?" she asked, you frowned worried and put down the datapad, you wanted to ask her again if she was okay, but when you looked into her eyes you saw that she really wanted it, it was almost as if she was smaller than she appeared to be, she even seemed younger, you didn't respond when you already had your arms around her slim body. You heard her gasp and smile, and felt her small arms around you as well "this feels good" she whispered, you smiled and held her tighter, she rested her head in your shoulder.

"It's everything ok?" you both heard next to you, you broke the hug and you felt Missy reluctantly sitting up.

"Yeah, dad, we're fine" she said, standing up and going to hug him without saying another word. You smiled at the scene, standing up and walking to the door, Marcus looked at you as he hugged his daughter and Missy buried her face into his chest.

"Is she okay?" he mouthed at you, you looked at the girl and nodded.

"Just enjoy it" you mouthed back, looking at him in the eyes, making him smile "I'm gonna go" you mouthed again, and for a brief second he wanted to tell you to stay, he wanted to grab you and hold you with one arm while holding his daughter with the other, he wanted to rest his head on your shoulder just as Missy was doing it just two minutes before and smell your perfume that he liked and brush your back with his hand, he wanted you to say there with them, he wanted to tell you to stay there with them forever. But he remembered where you were, and who he was, and who you were, and brushed of as much as he could of those thoughts and nodded back at you.

They both stood in the middle of the office, hugging, while you got out and closed the door.

"Missy, you're okay?" he said, brushing her brown hair with his fingers.

"Yes, can't I hug my dad?" she said, still inside his arms.

"I mean yeah, but a hug like this on a random tuesday?" he said, making Missy laugh and look up at him.

"When are you gonna ask her out?" Marcus choked at his daughter's question.

"Ask who?" he said, playing dumb, Missy broke the hug and went to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Ask who?" she imitated him, Marcus smiled at the way she did that, exactly like his mother.

"Why are you asking me that?" he said, sitting in the other chair, next to her, taking off his glasses.

"Because you obviously like her" she said, thinking if she should tell her dad what she knew, wondering if you would get mad if she did, she decided that she wouldn't tell him yet "I mean, you do, right? like her?" she asked.

Marcus rubbed his eyes with his fingers and sighed.

"Missy, there's things that kids don-"

"Please don't do that" she cut him off "don't treat me like I'm dumb... because you and I know I'm not" he nodded "I just want you to tell me truth"

"Why do you wanna know this so much?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Because I think you deserve it" she shrugged "I think you should go on a date or something"

Marcus smiled and shook his head, putting back on his glasses.

"Thank you, honey" he said "but have you asked me if I am ready to date somebody?" Missy frowned and looked at him.

"Well, are you?" she said, loudly "dad I think you are, but don't want to admit it" Marcus smiled again, sometimes his daughter outsmarted everyone he knew, even himself "besides she's really cool" Missy said, crossing her arms in her chest "and she gives really nice hugs" she finished, in a cocky tone.

Marcus was about to try to give his daughter a rebuttal when an alarm went off. Missy stood up of her seat and looked at him, he rushed to his datapad and Missy ran to grab her backpack.

The office door opened and you stood there wide eyed and clearly scared. That wasn't a fire drill alarm, that was a different one that you've never heard in your life.

"What's going on?" you asked, agitated, Missy looked at you and then at her dad, that was looking at his datapad.

"There's a spaceship trying to land on our territory" Marcus said, Missy ran up to him and snatched the device from his hands, your boss looked at you "it's just one, the guys are gonna take care of it and we'll be f-"

"Dad" Missy said, he looked at her and she showed him the screen "it's not just one, it's more" Missy looked at you and saw you breathing fast and heavily, she ran to you.

"Are you ok?" she asked, scared you shook your head "it's gonna be ok, I promise" the girl said on top of the alarm that was blasting everywhere, and even though you were taller, older and somewhat stronger than her, you believed her and nodded, she helped you sit down in one of the chairs in front of Marcus's desk.

"Marcus Moreno, please report to the Directors office" you heard on the datapad your boss was holding, he looked at you and then looked at Missy.

"Turn on your bracelet" he said to Missy, she nodded you saw the girl tap twice to the bracelet she was always wearing and then saw your boss doing the same with his watch "take her to the bunker downstairs, and then stay there with her until I call you, okay?" he said, Missy nodded and looked at him.

"A bunker?" you whispered, they didn't seem to hear you.

"We're gonna do this together, right?" she asked, Marcus looked at her and took off his glasses.

"We made a deal" he said, Missy rushed to you and helped you stand up, you looked at your boss waiting for him to tell you something, anything "stay with her, she will protect you" he told you, you felt your head spin and nodded as much as your neck let you, Missy took your hand and the three of you rushed out of the office, you saw people running away and towards you, everyone seemed like they had somewhere to go or something to do, while you were being escorted by a little girl to a bunker you didn't even know existed even though it was very obvious they would have one.

You saw Marcus running away from you while Missy pulled you from your arm to a set of stairs that went down way too many floors.

"Wait, wait" you said, Missy stopped and you took off your high heels with one hand, you didn't even bothered to take them with you as you heard a really loud crash on top of you, the alarm ceased and now there was just silence, you ran with Missy until you felt your lungs sting and your breath was getting shorter by the second.

"Missy, they crashed onto the building, please stay in the bunker, both of you" you heard your boss voice through Missys bracelet, the girl looked at you and you both ran the fastest you could, you reached the third basement and started running to the bunkers door, that was already closing.

"C'mon!" Missy yelled, you weren't sure if she was yelling at you or at them, but when the man that was closing the bunker's door saw you it was too late, the door couldn't be stopped and you both stayed out.

"Damn it!" you cursed out loud, Missy looked at you "sorry". The girl talked into her bracelet.

"We were late, they closed the door already"

"Stay there, please" you both heard. Missy frowned and looked down, you were trying to recover from all the running and then saw the girl walking confidently towards the elevator.

"What are you doing?" you asked hurriedly "Missy, come back!" she opened the door and you jogged to reach her, the elevator closed and started moving "where are we going?"

"Back up" you looked at her like she was crazy.

"What?" you said, looking down and just remembering you didn't have any shoes on. You were getting anxious "for what?"

"Do you know how to fight?" she asked, you looked at her back and blinked a few times.

"I mean... a little" you tried to remember when was the last time you went to the gym or some moves you learned when you were a kid and went to karate school and your anxiety grew more with the little number on the elevator screen that showed the floor you were on "what if I don't remember much?" you asked Missy.

"Then find something and hit them with it" she said, stretching her arms.

"Hit who?" you said, almost crying.

"Hit the aliens!" Missy yelled, the elevator door opened between floors and you heard the little girl sigh in desperation, you were trying to process what she told you.

"Aliens? like the last time?" you asked, watching her climb the space to get to the floor that was a few inches below your waist, you could hear people struggling in there and Missy looked at you, crouched on the floor.

"This time they're real" she said, she extended her hand for you to take and she helped you climb as well "stay down" she said and you nodded, still trying to make sense of everything that she said and what was happening, you could see some sort of amorphic four legged beings, with gray skin and three eyes, they were just walking around, didn't seem to notice you slowly walking behind them "dad? we are in the seventeenth floor, where are you?" she whispered into the bracelet on her wrist.

"Outside! do you see them? how many are there?" Marcus said back. Missy looked at you and you counted the ones you could see.

"Eight" you whispered as she got the bracelet close to you

"Be careful, they appear to be deaf, don't let them see you"

Missy looked at you and you tried to examine the floor, looking for any weapon, you tried to get back to the elevator to go outside. One of the things saw you two moving and walked towards you, you started shaking again and when it tried to grab you Missy kicked its front leg, it then stood in its two back legs and you mimicked Missy's kick, then punched it in the neck and ran back to the elevator while it stumbled backwards.

"Missy, are you coming?" your boss asked.

"Yes, we're coming" both of you crouched back to the elevator and begged for it to work "where did you learn that?" Missy asked you, you pushed the button to the main floor and the machine went faster than before, you braced yourselves to the rails on the side.

"Did you think they'd hire me without me knowing some stuff?" you grinned tiredly.

"Wait, what, we?" Marcus' agitated voice broke the silence.

"Well who else?" you said "both of us" Missy smiled at you.

The elevator opened, this time it did correctly, the first thing that you saw was Guppy, the little girl that really amazed you, throwing one of the four legged aliens into a wall, Missy ran around her and you behind her, crouching, along the main hall was Wheels protecting the entrance while Wild Card electrified two aliens at the same time, no one of the kids seemed to notice you run. You got out the building and saw a huge octagonal shaped spaceship hovering over the building, you could see Lava Girl, Miracle Guy and Shark Boy trying to move it together while Crimson Legend and the twins were fighting (and messing) with a horde of aliens on the left side of the parking lot, on the right side there was Invisi-Girl and Lighting Fury along with Noodles and Marcus fighting to stop some of the creatures that wanted to get inside the building.

Missy ran to them and you ran behind her, concentrated on not falling and also on the way your boss brandished his katanas.

"Dad!" Missy yelled, Marcus turned to her and frowned one of the aliens grabbed him and threw him into the air, you felt dizzy, Noodles stretched his arms to catch him before he landed on the pavement.

"Thanks, buddy" he yelled when the stretchy arm left it sitting on the floor, Missy ran to him and you were about to go after her when you saw one of the creatures running towards her as well.

Adrenaline started pumping into your body, you saw one of Marcus' katanas on the floor and started running to grab it, for you it all happened in two seconds; you grabbed the weapon and then ran towards the alien, you sliced one of its back legs and it turned to you, it tried to turn around to grab you and you sliced off the other back leg, it screeched in pain and you jumped, lifting the katana and with all the strength in your body perforated its body with it. It stopped moving and you dropped the weapon looking around you, feeling the adrenaline pumping into your head and your chest.

Missy and Marcus were looking at you jaw-dropped.

You picked up the katana and walked towards the other one, picked it up as well and walked towards your boss, he was getting up the floor when you handed him the weapons.

"That was so badass!" Missy yelled looking at you, you smiled at her shyly and then looked at Marcus, he took only one of them.

"Take the other one" he said, his voicetone was deep and you noticed his sweaty forehead and the way his eyes looked all blood pumped because of the adrenaline, you wanted to stay there and look at him until he told you to stop, and you were wondering if, by the way he was looking back at you, he maybe wanted the same thing. Missy cleared his throat and made you wake up from your daze, you nodded and looked at Missy with a smile on your face.

"Does anybody have any idea what on earth do they want?" the voice of Miracle Guy could be heard through the intercoms.

"What if they just want to takeover the world?" Noodles voice was heard.

"It seems possible" Ms. Vox said then, you looked around and didn't see her outside "they look like they're looking for something inside" she said while a sharp g note was heard on the background.

Missy took your hand and you both walked towards the dead alien in the middle of the parking lot while the others fought its friends.

"What are we looking for?" you asked, Missy shrugged, for you it just looked like a short-necked giraffe with gray skin and an extra eye. Then you noticed a small black piece of metal inside of a hole it had on a side of its neck "Missy" you called her, she came to your side and you pointed to the thing with the katana. Missy raised his wrist.

"Dad? we found something" she said, she reached to grab it and you stopped her with one arm.

"It could be dangerous to touch" you said, shrugging. Marcus jogged towards you, Missy showed them the metallic thing and he got closer to the alien's corpse to see, he then shove his hand into the hole and you and Missy made a grin in disgust. You saw your boss examine the small thing and weighting it in his hand. He turned to Missy.

"Take this to Wheels" he said "go!" Missy nodded and grabbed your free hand to take you with her, Marcus stayed back, he couldn't help but smile at the way his daughter grabbed you and grasped your arm so tight to not lose you, he was surprised at how you were taking the situation and he was so amazed at the way you were fighting, every single extra minute he got to see you he realized he liked you more and more, and by that moment in which you held and gripped one of his katanas, he knew he was screwed.

Up until that moment that you were running with Missy you realized (again) you were shoeless, but somehow it made you run faster, you got inside the building again, the boy's wheelchair was set on the covered part of the entrance, Missy went to him.

"Cover us" she told you, you widen your eyes and even though you nodded you didn't even know how to do that. You glanced around and saw Guppy sitting down on the reception counter, sipping water, while Wild Card walked around the lobby (or what was left of it) amongst two dead aliens "we found this inside the alien" Missy said, handing the metal piece to the boy, he looked at it and then he rested the thing on top of one of the datapads his wheelchair had.

"It looks like some kind of... remote control" he said, surprised, Missy looked at him and then back at you

"Alien!" Wild Card yelled, a creature was running towards him, Guppy jumped down the counter and you ran to it, tried to slice it but didn't reach it the first time, the second time you waved the katana from below and got his upper thigh (or what it looked like it anyway) you saw the boy throw fireballs at it and you called him.

"Can you electrify this katana?" you asked while slicing the alien on one of the front legs, the kid grinned and nodded, you threw it at him and he catch it with no issue.

"Electric powers" he said, making the blade of the katana glow with energy, you grabbed Guppy and ran with her on your arms, you looked at the kid slide below the alien, nailing the weapon inside its stomach with one single push, the thing screeched loudly and the girl in your arms cheered at the boy. He walked towards you and handed the weapon, you let the girl down and she raised her hand to give you a high five.

"They're controlled!" Missy yelled, you turned to her, wiped the sweat from your forehead and walked to her "Wheels found the control inside of that ship" she pointed at the one in the sky, the huge one that Lava Girl, Shark Boy and Miracle Guy were still trying to move. She repeated the same into her bracelet to her dad.

"We're going, you cover us down here" Marcus said, the five of you walked out of the building again, Missy grabbed your hand, you looked down to her and smiled at her. "Wheels, guide us over here, buddy"

You saw the boy putting down the other screen on his wheelchair and started tapping and speaking to the adults that were about to heist their way into the ship, suddenly all of the aliens outside noticed that most of the heroes were trying to get inside their ship and went onto them, Guppy and Wild Card ran towards them to fight them, you were about to follow them but Missy grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

"Please stay with us" she said, you nodded and watched as below the ship another battle started, you saw Marcus slicing and dicing aliens and in some way that was not at all weird for the moment you felt your stomach turn at the way he was fighting to protect the world.

"I need my other katana" his voice was heard on Missy's bracelet, you felt he was looking back at you, you raised the hand that was holding the weapon and felt it vibrate, you saw him lift is hand as well, calling his companion to return to him, your hand was pulled by some invisible force that took the katana from you, you saw Marcus move his hand and the weapon moved as well, while traveling to him the katana was stabbing and slicing aliens, you smiled as you watched him.

"Show off" Missy said under her breath, you laughed.

The battle continued while Wheels guided his dad and the rest of The Heroics, already inside the ship, to the controller of the aliens, then he guided them on how to dismantle the controls and you saw in awe how all the aliens dropped to the floor, keeling towards the ship.

Wheels took over the controls on her datapads.

"Get out of the ship, I'm about to send it home!" he yelled, they got out together and the boy beside you tapped some more, made the ship pick up all the aliens and sent it back from where it came from. Missy cheered up and you finally caught a breath.

"Well done, Wheels, really well done!" Missy said, you smiled at the boy and turned to see Missy, she smiled back at you and then turned around to see her dad, she ran up to him and hugged him.

You could hear him prasing her work as they walked back inside alongside the others. Your boss looked at you and raised a hand to grab your shoulder. You felt a shiver go down your spine when you felt his touch. He smiled at you.

"Good job" he said, clearing his throat. You stood there, blinking. You knew you didn't deserve anything else from him, you knew you weren't entitled to something else than that, because after all he was still just your boss, and you were his assistant... But, to you it was unavoidable, to want something else, to want another thing, to want more. Because you weren't supposed to even be there, brandishing one of his weapons, slicing aliens, getting covered in their weird bodily matter, shoeless, sweaty and tired. That was not your job, and you did it anyway, you did it selflessly and to help but you still felt like you deserved more than just what he was giving you.

"Thanks?" you said, he nodded, tightened up the grab on your shoulder and then dropped his hand to the side, walking past you to the elevators. Missy watched him in disbelief then looked at you, you looked back at her and opened your mouth, not even knowing what to say.

"Really?" she whispered, you smiled, bemused and kind of frustrated by what just had happened.

"I-I don't even know" you muttered.

"C'mon, let's find your shoes" she said, making you laugh.

_____________________________

They'd given you a week to rest after the battle, and they told you as well they would start training you to be an agent, that was, somehow, a raise.

But you weren't as happy as you were sure you should, because after your week-long rest, everything was the same, everything came back to normal. Just you, your boss and your boss' daughter that appeared out of nowhere and lightened up your days.

You checked your watch, longing for the end of the day so you could drive back home to put on the pajama and watch some cheesy movie about a romance that you wanted to live.

"Can you come inside, please?" you heard Marcus' voice through your new intercom, you didn't bother answering, insead you stood up, grabbed your datapad and opened the door.

"Yes?" you said, walking inside the office, you saw Marcus close the door on his end and shifting in his chair "do you want me to bring you anything?" you asked.

"Sit, please" you hesitated for a second before doing it, and waited for him to talk.

You saw him fiddle his fingers and avoiding eye contact, he was nervous, and he was getting you nervous, for a moment the thought that he was going to fire you crossed your mind but you shoved that right where it came from.

"Are you ok, sir?" you asked, he cringed a little and made a grin.

"Call me Marcus, please" he said, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands.

"Are you ok, Marcus?" you said his name with stealth, almost as if it'd wear out if you said it, he looked at you when you did.

"Now I am" he responded, he stood up and walked around his desk to sit in the chair next to you "see, there's something I need to tell you, because I didn't before and that won me a scolding from Missy" he said, grinning, you frowned, amused.

"And what is it?" you asked, kind of hopeful.

"What you did out there" he said, pointing at the window "that was incredible" he smiled, you smiled back, satisfied, because that was what you wanted after all, recognizon (you wanted more, you did, but he couldn't know) "and for me, how you did that to save my daughter, that's unforgettable" he got closed and grabbed one of your hands that were resting on your lap, your body started sending you alarms, what was he doing?, why was he touching you like that?, why was his thumb rubbing slowly the back of your hand?, why were your eyes getting watery?, what was going on? "you were unforgettable".

You let out a sigh, and bolded up and turned your hand to grab his. You noticed how that surprised him, but he didn't take it back.

"I know we probably shouldn't do this" he said, putting his other hand in top of yours "but I wanted to ask you for quite some time now..." you tightened your grip on his hand "if maybe you'd want to grab dinner with me." he said the last part in a mumble, dropping his gaze down, you smiled and got closer to him to hold his chin up with your fingers, he looked at you, amazed by the contact. You nodded.

"I'd love to grab dinner with you" you whispered. He smiled at you.

You bolded up a second time, this time it took out more energy out of you but you knew it was something you needed to do. You spreaded your hand along his jaw and got closer to him, he immediately closed his eyes and leaned into your hand, tearing a smile out of you, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips against his.

His lips were soft and steady, you let out all the air you had in your lungs when he deepened the kiss, moving his mouth to taste your lips, it was something taken out of the movies, the way his facial hair felt on your skin was almost heavenly, and the way your breaths synchronized into one while he stopped holding your and and leaned in to grab your waist and your back made you melt into his arms.

It was incredible, and at that moment you realized something. Something that you hadn't think of before until his mouth was into yours, his hands were holding you and your heart was racing at double speed.

You were utterly and completely in love with him.

Unexpectedly, unavoidably, unforgettably in love with him

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #we can be heroes #unexpected plot lmao #it took me like seven hours to write you better appreciate it #pedro pascal

258 notes · View notes

aestheticsuwu · 3 years ago

Text

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Hope you like it @indecisive-behaviors sorry for my bad writting i couldnt help myself to write a little snippet lol .

....... ........

Johnny lawrence had a hard time growing up and adjusting from just him and his mother to living with Sid .

The man expected alot from him even if he was just a kid . Every move he made was being watched , waiting for one mistake .

When he was a teenager , he and his friends would beat the shit out of kids who seemed weaker or in Dutch words a fairy .

He was full of anger and it was the only way to let some steam .

The other half he spent being with his girlfriend Ali that he loved , but she later broke up with him because he wasn't the guy she fell in love with .

Not even a week later she started dating a guy from college .It made him angry , made him like he was nothing but a weak boy .

Felt like he was full of anger like a dark cloud just following him .

Sid always gave him shit , always telling him that he was just a pussy and just like the kids he would beat up .

College wasn't for him it was just time wasted , he dropped out with one month in . The look of dissapointment of his mom hurt him more than the harsh words Sid yelled at him .

Then one day he crossed into a man named kreese , he was wasted but soon after he got into a fight with a dumbass that got in his way .

Kreese stopped him before he killed the guy . Told him he had potential of being something big , at first he thought he was full of shit and almost threw hands at him too .

The man gave him a card to call him when he was tired of wasting away talent .

Thats how he was thrown into the underground business after he was thrown in jail almost killing Sid and left him in pulp .

Kreese had taken him out of jail , Johnny had to repay the favor by doing what he did best using his anger and destroying the ones around him .

Johnny thrived from the anger that pumped in his veins , the blood that would splatter and the satifaction of feeling in control .

He didnt want to give the feeling or the money up .

He was Kreese favorite fighter his star pupil , thats why he was the only one to get to meet the boss of the underground that was given to John Kreese to keep an eye on .

" You were born to be a cobra, lawrence with that power you can control the world with just the palm of your fist . "

He believed every word yet when he wanted the person he couldnt have . He felt like a useless powerless ant .

He wished to he had never went with kreese to meet the man thaat would hurt the person he would love the most .

The Mansion was huge bigger than the ones he grew up with Sid. Maids and butler walked around and carrying on with their dutties . They were directed to the backyard full of little trees and cherry blossoms that seemed the opposite of the tales of Mr. Silver .

A foot in the garden , weirdly he felt relaxed even more so when he had spent the night with shannon and smoking weed .

" Did you wrapped your hand like i told you yesterday , if you dont start taking care of yourself someone else will take your place . "

" Yes sensei , Carmen helped me out and We both know no one can take my place .

Kreese chuckles proudly .

" John my man ! Long time no see , What do i owe the pleasure .

" Its been a while has it . Hope im not interrupting . "

" nonsense pal . "

" I wanted you to meet you lawrence , the one i been talking about . "

The man had piercing cold stare , but johnny wasn't scared when he almost killed sid with his bare hands , hes not going to start now just because the guy was freakin rich .

Terry looked unimpressed, like he was staring a gum at the bottom of his shoe .

" How old are you kid ? "

" 24 ."

" Does he got the potential for it or will he back out like scared kid ? "

The question was directed to kreese like if he wasn't just standing there . God he wanted to beat the shit of this self absorbed guy .

" I could prove it to you right now . " He answers before Kreese could get a word in .

The guys just chuckles and smiles , Johnny really wanted to break his hand where he places it on his shoulder .

" Alright then , Your in the big boy world now . "

" Mr . Silver ? "

A older lady called , He guessed she was a secretary or probably his wife .

" Mr. LaRusso said that hes going to church and you could stay here with your friends . "

" Nonsense . Get the car ready , Well gentleman got any plans today ? . "

.....

It had been awhile he had gone to church , couldn't remember at all .

Stepping out of the car , he watches in the distance where Mr. Silver and the larusso guy- he looked more like a boy to him .

When the guy walks in first , Silver makes a hand motion to follow him . They make him sit besides the boy while Kreese and Terry sit in the back to talk business .

All he wanted to do was run the fuck out of there . He felt everyone could see his bloodstained hands , and all the fucked up shit he's done and about to do .

He didnt even realise his leg was bouncing until he felt a dainty hand over his , where he place above his knee .

" First time ? "

" Its been awhile . "

" Focus on the beautiful angels instead of thinking about how the people might see your sins . "

The boy whispered to him , not once he looked at him in the entire conversation but he didnt take his hand back either .

Johnny looked at the angel , he felt the whispers and the judging eyes dissapear, For the first time he wondered how can an angel look so sad and beautiful at the same time .

Said angel turned to face him , Johnny felt mesmerized by his huge doe eyes .

" What are you doing ? "

Clenching his fist to feel the dull ache of his knuckles . Holding his gaze , his eye flicker one more time to their hands and then back to him .

" Looking at the angel . "

....... ....... ........

" If im Bambi , What does that make you , the lion ? "

" i guess it does , The lion has to protect the Bambi from the hungry snakes . "

#Lawrusso #lawrusso au #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #terry silver #john kreese #carmen diaz #moodboard #ralph macchio #william zabka #billy zabka

39 notes · View notes

miracleonice87 · 4 years ago

Text

Say You Won’t Let Go

a Sidney Crosby wedding series

Part Two

a/n: here’s part deux! read part one here. this will have at least one more part, probably 2! worth noting that I know next to no French and am relying heavilyyyy on our pal Google Translate in this story.

summary: a little more background throughout, as Juliette and Sidney meet up with their families and hockey star-studded bridal party for a rehearsal at their iconic wedding venue. if you’re not familiar with the location (it’s honestly incredible), click here for a look!

warnings: mention of deceased father. otherwise, so damn fluffy it’s practically cotton candy.

_____

Sidney and I arrived at the church exactly on time, much to Lauren’s satisfaction, with two cars carrying Mario’s crew pulling in at the next moment. I closed the passenger door of Sidney’s steel grey Range Rover and turned to take in the sight of our wedding venue, Heinz Chapel on Pitt’s campus, reaching a hand up to shield my face from the early evening sun as I gazed. Sidney did the same, coming to stand next to me and snaking an arm around my torso.

“Not a bad place to get married, eh?” he teased, kissing the crown of my head. I smiled and shook my head. “I’ve dreamed of this since the moment I first saw this place,” I told him. “It’s perfect.”

He took a step forward, offered his hand to me and grinned, quite pleased that we had been able to reserve the coveted location last summer despite it typically being booked three or more years in advance. I didn’t often request many special favors in the name of my uncle or fiancé, but this was one that seemed a necessity. Taking Sidney’s hand and walking toward the cathedral-style landmark, I said a silent prayer of thanks that I’d gotten even more than what I always dreamed of, in so many ways.

My family and Sidney walked into the chapel to find his parents and our bridal party already mingling near the pews, excitement palpably buzzing beneath the magnificent arches and towering stained-glass windows that decorated the exquisite interior. As we stepped through the doors, they turned our way, and I let out an echoing, very French-Canadian-sounding, “Allooo!” making them all laugh.

I first greeted Troy, Trina, and Taylor with hugs and warm hellos. Sidney’s parents were staying at his former townhome on Mt. Washington, which previously served as his bachelor pad and now housed Taylor in light of her recent move to Pittsburgh. We had spent much quality time with the elder Crosbys since their arrival from Nova Scotia a few days ago, helping us with final preparations and enjoying each other’s company ahead of my official entrance into their family.

Both Trina and Nathalie had accompanied me earlier in the week to my final dress fitting and pickup appointment at the bridal boutique where I had selected my gown. Though my mother did plan to attend the wedding ceremony as a guest, she was uninterested in playing the traditional mother of the bride role and joining me for such commitments, which hadn’t surprised me but still stung sharply, especially when I was fastened into the gown and presented by the salon attendant to a waiting Trina and Nathalie.

Bitter tears pricked my eyes as I allowed myself to feel robbed of sharing that moment with my own mom. My sadness was quickly overcome, however, when the women, sensing my sadness, warmly embraced me and fawned over me, admiring the perfect fit of the gown, both becoming emotional when Nathalie tucked my headpiece and veil tenderly into my hair.

The three of us stared at my reflection in the mirror for a few moments as we let tears of many complicated emotions fall, with joy prevailing above them all. I couldn’t keep the enormous smile from my cheeks when Trina squeezed my shoulder and whispered, “Oh, sweetheart, just wait until Sidney sees you.”

Now, we were less than 24 hours away from that moment, with our bridal party and family bustling around us in the chapel.

As our officiant, Father Antonio, announced that we would be lining up for the rehearsal momentarily, Lauren approached me with a grin, extending a bouquet she had made of the countless ribbons and bows from my bridal shower gifts acquired a couple of months ago. I giggled at how cheesy yet adorable the arrangement looked, thanking her as we huddled at the back of the aisle with my bridesmaids and Sidney’s groomsmen.

“This place is a little beat up,” Nate MacKinnon, our best man, ribbed Sidney from between the two of us. “I don’t know why you guys picked this dump,” he added, pulling me to his side. Sidney shoved lightly at his chest before the two of them laughed and embraced.

“Yeah, the old barn in Cole Harbour was booked this weekend, so we kinda had to settle for the next best thing,” Sidney played into Nate’s teasing, as his longtime best friend Mike, also a Cole Harbour native, approached us.

“Kind of a shithole,” Nate whispered, earning a warning glance from me as Austin tried to hold in hysterical laughter. “You can’t say shit in church!” Austin forced out from under his breath. “Oh, we’re going straight to hell,” Mike commented softly. Sidney gave me an apologetic look and I smiled up at him.

“It’s fine. These are our people!” I said to him, flicking Nate’s elbow as I passed him. “Besides, we’ve already been living in sin,” I added, winking at Sidney. He gave me a look of mock disbelief and insisted, “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a nice Catholic boy.” I giggled and pushed onto my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, which smelled of his fresh aftershave.

In addition to Nate, Mike, and Austin, we greeted Sidney’s other groomsmen as we prepared for the rehearsal — his current teammates Kris Letang and Evgeni Malkin and former Penguin Marc-Andre Fleury. They had all graciously accepted the invitation by Sidney to play this special role in our day, with Geno flying in from Russia and Kris and Marc-Andre from Quebec.

Marc-Andre had brought a few other important components to our day along with him — not the least of which was his wife and my best friend, Veronique. She and I had first met when Sidney and I were only casually seeing each other, and she had predicted this wedding long, long ago. She had been one of our biggest cheerleaders since the day we met, and despite her and Marc’s eventual move to Las Vegas, the four of us remained the closest of friends, visiting each other when the men’s respective teams played and whenever else possible.

With Lauren as my maid of honor and Stephanie, Alexa, and Taylor as three of my other bridesmaids, my friend Jacqueline, a Pittsburgh transplant with Canadian roots whom I met while studying at Duquesne, rounded out my crew of six ladies who would stand by my side on this long-awaited day.

To up the cuteness factor, Sidney and I had selected Marc-Andre and Veronique’s daughters, Estelle and Scarlet, as our flower girls, with Geno’s son Nikita and Kris’s son Alex as our ringbearers. Nikita was still a bit young to understand his role, but grinned broadly when Sidney told him when they arrived just how important he was to our day. On the other hand, Kris told us that Alex had cried after his parents had asked him to be in our wedding, because, as much as he adored and was attached to Sid, Alex had been under the impression that I was his girlfriend, not Uncle Sidney’s.

Eventually, after Sidney and I made the rounds to greet them all, the entire bridal party was grouped together to begin the walk-through. The venue’s wedding planner wrangled the children as the priest noted that Sidney needed to leave my side to approach the front of the church alone, in preparation for his emergence from one of the side doors at the front of the sanctuary tomorrow.

Playful “oooh”’s erupted from our groomsmen, who teased Sid about having to pry himself away from my hip. Sidney rolled his eyes, nodding and smirking, before turning his full attention to me. He tucked some hair behind both of my ears before caressing my cheeks with his thumbs.

“You gonna be okay, Jules?” Sidney asked, eyes wider than normal as he searched mine carefully.

I knew he wasn’t asking if I would be alright once he left my side to stand twenty yards away for the next five minutes, but rather if I would be able to contain my emotions as Mario walked me down the aisle, even during a practice run, in place of my father.

We had talked about this specific part of our day a number of times, with Sidney even pondering aloud whether he should walk me down the aisle himself because walking with anyone except my dad felt impossible to me. His sweet dad had even offered to do so, should I desire. After each conversation, Sidney and I both kept arriving at the same conclusion — that the best and most appropriate plan of action was for Mario to give me away and also to join me for the traditional father-daughter dance at the reception.

I nodded, holding onto Sidney’s wrists. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I’ll be okay,” I promised. He nodded solemnly in return and kissed my forehead before pulling back with a wink.

“You can do this,” he encouraged. “I’ll see you up there.” I gave him my best smile as he turned and walked to the front of the chapel.

As our wedding party lined up in front of me to take their positions, Nate stopped me for one of his signature bear hugs, resting his chin on top of my head just for a moment before releasing me. The rest of our group squeezed my hands and rubbed my arms lovingly as I walked to the back door of the sanctuary where Mario waited, hands folded in front of his hips and a tentative smile on his features. He, too, gave me a sweet kiss on the forehead before holding my shoulders at arm’s length.

“Listen, princesse, it was one of the greatest honors of my life when you asked me to walk you down the aisle,” Mario said, soft enough that only I could hear. “But if you’ve changed your mind and would rather do this some other way, please, just say the word.” I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his waist just as the piano music began.

“No, you are exactly the person my dad would want doing this if he couldn’t,” I told him confidently. Mario let out a small exhale, and I could tell he was trying to remain composed. As we parted, he said, “Then let’s go make him proud.” He offered his arm to me and I wrapped my hands around it firmly, leaning my head into his shoulder briefly.

We watched pairs of our party head down the aisle toward Sidney and the priest at a relaxed pace: Jacqueline and Geno led off, followed by Veronique and Marc-Andre, Taylor and Kris, Alexa and Austin, Stephanie and Mike, and finally, Lauren and Nate. Alex walked down the aisle in a near-skip, holding a fake pillow very carefully just as his mother, our beautiful friend Catherine, had instructed him, with Nikita by his side mimicking his every move. Their fathers gave them thumbs up and everyone clapped lightly when they reached the end of the aisle.

Next, after a bit of prompting from both their parents at the front, Estelle and Scarlett followed the boys’ path, scattering fake rose petals in place of the real ones they would have tomorrow, earning their own quiet round of applause. As the children were seated at the ends of the front pews on either side, the music shifted, and our wedding planner turned and gave Mario and me the nod.

“Ready, Juliette?” he asked softly. My eyes traveled down the long red carpet in front of us to the steps where the love of my life stood centered in between our closest friends and family, waiting for me. He gave me a warm, adoring smile and at that moment, I felt my unease melt away, just as it always did when Sidney was near.

“I’m so ready,” I whispered.

65 notes · View notes

myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

Text

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 3

Word Count: 2,340

POV: Reader than switches to Sid

Warnings: Language

Notes: I had planned on this being a bit longer but with everything that happened I didn’t get to write as much as I want. Also this was kind of unplanned, but since everyone wanted a prank included I decided to write it in. Hope you guys enjoy!

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

You stood there wracking your brain trying to figure out what you had done or said that first night you met Sidney Crosby. He'd done a full one-eighty in twenty-four hours on you. When you'd left the party you actually thought, that there was quite possibly something between the two of you, but since then it was painfully obvious that he'd changed his mind. It was never more evident than in this moment right now when he clearly could've cared less about the snacks and extras that you'd had delivered to his room, let alone the book you'd left. His simple, 'oh yeah, thanks,' made it evident that he just tolerated you and your job with the team.

You knew it was going to be hard with him. It was part of the reason why you added the book on Egyptian history for him, hoping that it would sort of be a peace offering, or at least some common ground for you both. If he didn't appreciate that, he was surely going to hate the one on ancient Rome that would be waiting for him in D.C. It was too late now, you weren't going to not send it. If anything it only strengthened your resolve to somehow get yourself and Sid to at least be friends, since there would obviously never be anything more.

The following morning you headed on the bus with the team to the arena for morning skate, where everything went great. You began to see why the guys took naps in the afternoon, as their schedule was super demanding. As you headed back on the bus, for the game, you didn't expect Tanger, to grab the seat next to you. "So, how are things going so far?"

"Really good I think." It was true all the guys had been super nice and so receptive to all that you'd been doing for the team, well everyone except Sid. You chose not to get into that with Tanger though, so instead, you added. "Unless you've heard something different?" It seemed like a smart way to see about Sid's indifference, without flat out asking him how Sidney felt about your new role.

"God, no. Everyone loves you. You really outdid yourself with the little care packages. We all appreciated them." Well, not everyone.

"Just trying to do my part and make the trip a little easier for you guys."

"Speaking of that. I was wondering if I could ask a favor." He ran a hand through his hair as if he was nervous, which seemed silly since you'd known Tanger for a while now.

"Sure, that's my job you know. I'm here to be helpful."

"Well, this is kind of personal. Alex's birthday is coming up and…well Catherine always does the shopping and comes up with something over the top for him. I was hoping that this time, maybe I'd have some great suggestion to give her. Obviously, I suck though, because I can't think of a damn thing."

"Oh, I can totally help with that." You took out your phone as the bus pulled into the arena, everyone filing out to get ready for the game. "Let me see what I can come up with and I'll get back to you."

"Yeah, that would be great." You followed Tanger off the bus, then went about a few odds and ends that you started helping the staff with. It was probably about forty-five minutes later that he found you again.

"Hey (Y/N), I had this awesome idea about Alex's birthday present."

"Oh yeah, what were you thinking." You asked as you made your way over to the locker room where Tanger was standing. He opened the door for you to come in. You tended to avoid going into the room unless it was necessary, not that you couldn't. Social media was in there all the time filming things, so it wouldn't be like you were the only female in there. It just seemed like a line you weren't ready to cross yet; though at the moment you had no choice but to follow him.

As you gazed around the room, you had to appreciate the way Dana Heinze and his guys made the locker room feel more like home. Each stall had a nameplate on it, and the Pens emblem was placed throughout the room. Most of the guys were in there, prepping for the game. They didn't even take notice that you were there. "Tanger, you're up." Hollered Chris, one of the team trainers.

"Shit, can you grab my phone out of my bag. I saved it in there." You wandered over to where his bag sat. It still amazed you how they lugged all this equipment around. You had a feeling it was going to be a challenge to find a cell phone in the damn thing with how big it was. Crouching down, you pulled the zipper back the whole way to shed some light into the black piece of luggage. That's when Marc-Andre popped out with a loud roar.

"Jesus Christ!" You screamed stumbling back, as your heel caught on some random piece of equipment on the floor. You would've landed flat on your ass if it hadn't been for someone grabbing you around the waist and holding you tight against their body. Even though you'd literally just been scared half to death, you somehow felt safe in this person's arms; like nothing bad could happen to you as long as he was around. It was a bad feeling to have considering this was a new job, and you didn't need to be developing feelings for a player. You took another minute to just absorb the feeling of being in this person's arms, as well as catch your breath.

He must have heard or felt your deep intake of breath, for the next thing you knew he was saying. "It's ok. I got you." You knew that voice, well you honestly knew all the guys' voices; you just weren't used to be held in their embrace. When you looked back, Sid's brown eyes were staring into yours. They were filled with concern, and well something else, desire. You could see it in his eyes as much as you were sure that yours reflected the same. It was dangerous territory and there was no exploring it as the whole team had their eyes on you.

"Thanks," you said righting yourself. You turned your full attention to Flower than. "What the hell, Flower! You just scared the crap out of me." You were laughing along with the rest of the room now, and Marc-Andre had the biggest smile on his face.

"Welcome to the team." He said coming over and giving you a big hug. "You're not an official member until we prank you."

"Oh my god, you should've seen your face." Horny came up and embraced you as well. "It was priceless."

"I got it all on video too," Tanger said holding his phone up, that you were suppose to be looking for.

"Wait…you guys were all in on this?" You looked around the room and about half the guys were nodding their head.

"We do it to all the new guys. Couldn't leave you out." Most of the guys came over and gave you a hug, saying that you were a good sport about things.

"You do realize I know where all of you sleep right? And I will get you back." You shot back with a little laugh before exiting the locker room. "Now get your asses ready or we'll see who scared of who." The moment you shut the door, you leaned against it heavily to stop your racing heart. To anyone else, it would look as though you were still recovering from having the wits scared out of you, but what you couldn't get over was the feeling of being held in Sidney's arms and the look in his eyes.

All this time you thought he was indifferent to you, but that look told you otherwise. You could still feel his hands wrapped around; it was like an imprint that couldn't be wiped away. There were so many things going through your brain at the moment, and yet this wasn't the place or time to think about it. You pushed away from the door, just as it opened; startling you once again.

"Hey (Y/N)," thankfully it was Tanger's voice and not the man who was at the forefront of your mind. "I don't need that present for Alex, Catherine has it covered." You rolled your eyes at him, you should've known that was part of the prank. He just shrugged his shoulders at you. "I had to sell it, didn't I?" You took a towel and threw in his face before, heading down the hallway to get back to work.

SID'S POV

What the hell had just happened? No one had told him they were going to prank (Y/N), for if they had he would've advised against it, but damn had the timing been right for her to literally fall in your arms. When she'd walked into the locker room, you couldn't breathe. It seemed like every time there was a game, the woman dressed in something to tantalize your dreams. There was nothing left to do but walk out of the locker room and get some air. That's when you had the misfortune or fortune as it were, to be in the perfect spot to catch her as Marc-Andre scared her.

Her body fit perfectly to yours, as your arms came around her mid-section to steady her. Your forearm had brushed the underside of her breast and just that small contact alone had you yearning for more. There was an undeniable spark between the two of you at that moment, and when she turned to look at you; you knew she felt it too. At least she had the sense to recover because right now you didn't give a damn that there was a game to be played in an hour. You wanted nothing more than to haul her off to some dark secluded corner and kiss her senseless.

The thoughts running through your head were pure madness. You shouldn't be thinking about the things you wanted to do to her body or how you wanted to know what she felt like under those layers of clothing. You needed to pull yourself together, you had sixty minutes of hockey and a team that needed your attention. So, when Rusty called out to see if you were playing soccer that's what you decided you needed to do to get your mind off of (Y/N).

Three hits into the warmup ritual, you were still thinking about her. Only this time it was about the last game and how she'd touched your hat and brought you good luck. That superstitious side of yours, kept an eye out for her so that you could do it again. However, this time she was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, with both yourself and your irrational tendencies, you headed into the locker room and tried to focus on the game ahead.

The first period you played like shit and Ottawa was up one to nothing. You were beginning to wish that you would have just asked (Y/N) to touch your hat, for it felt like you were now being cursed or maybe that was happening because you'd held her a little too close to your body earlier and your bad game was some form of punishment. By the middle of the second, you were sure it was the latter, for the Senators were up, three zip. Thankfully Horny was at least able to get you on the board with one goal shortly thereafter. You'd just spent a particularly long shift out on the ice and were skating back to the bench when you saw her on the ramp, nervously watching the game with such intensity as if by sheer will alone, she would have one of you to score a goal.

As you sat on the bench, something in you shifted and you stopped thinking about your silly superstitions and decided that if (Y/N) seemed to have that much faith in the team so were you. As you skated out on your next shift, the puck somehow found your stick on a pass from Horny. A spin to the left and a fake on your opponent and you tapped the puck into the back of the net, cutting the other teams lead to only one. As your teammates crowded you, it wasn't words of celebration you shared but ones of motivation. And when you made your way back to the bench, there she was smiling brighter than the sun. It was contagious and you could help but smile back when she caught your eye.

When the third period started the team was on fire, Carl Hagelin scoring shortly into the period to tie the game. There was a feeling deep in your chest that you were going to win this one, and somewhere in your mind, you acknowledged you want to do it for (Y/N). Things changed though, when Beau went down, after a bad hit from Zibanejad. The medical staff was on top of things as they took him back to the locker room and you saw (Y/N) disappear with them. She missed the rest of the game, and also the empty netter you put in sealing your victory. By the time the buzzer sounded, and you headed down the ramp; you could just make out (Y/N) and Beau heading out of the arena. Beau's arm wrapped around her as she helped him out. The rational part of you, told you she was just doing her job and helping him; though it was the irrational one that told you it looked more like a girlfriend tending to her injured man. Unfortunately for you this time, the illogical part of you won out as you found yourself jealous of your teammate the first time in your life.

#Not So Dangerous Liaison Series #Sidney Crosby #sidney crosby imagine #Sidney Crosby Imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic

179 notes · View notes

himbowelsh · 5 years ago

Note

I clicked on your "Love language" band of brothers post and almost passed out with inexplicable emotions... don't know if you've done one for the Pacific, could you do that + including Daniel Jackson?

right, so it took me genuinely forever to write these up, because there were a lot of boys here... and in the meantime, i answered this ask about the pacific characters falling in love which turned out super similar. give that one a look for more gushy romantic content! i also included all the spr boys, because just doing jackson felt... lonely, idk. anyways here’s wonderwall

The Pacific

John Basilone: Acts of service. John’s the sort of guy who needs to be needed by his loved ones. He gets restless whenever he starts to feel stagnant, so always having something to do --- especially if he’s doing it for others --- keeps life interesting. Sometimes, John does favors for his partner before they even realize the favors needed doing. No, they didn’t notice the sink was leaky, but it’s great that it no longer is now; no, they didn’t see their mailbox get blown away by last night’s storm, but this brand new one is certainly nice... it can get a bit overbearing if he doesn’t have much else to do. John’s good at focusing all his energy into things, which is frankly why he needs hobbies. Just take up couple’s yoga or rock climbing, he’ll love it. (Yes, Quality Time is also one of his love languages.) Robert Leckie: Words of affirmation. How cliche can Writer Man get? Very, and he only gets worse from here. Honestly, though, Bob is always verbal about his affections. He likes putting things into words, is the thing --- it’s how he makes sense of his own emotions as they run through his head. He speaks in metaphors and poetic phrasing, romanticizing emotions that aren’t always gentle... but when he loves someone, his partner gets to hear about it. His friends get to hear about it. His neighborhood mailman gets to hear about it. This man cannot, and will not, hold back. Giving gifts might also count as a secondary love language, because he particularly enjoys showering his partner with surprises --- like a sonnet he wrote himself, a piece of jewelry he thought they’d like, or dinner reservations at their favorite restaurant together. He just... loves seeing the surprise on their face. Eugene Sledge: Quality time. Eugene is a simple man who prefers a quiet life --- he really doesn’t need much. Spending time around someone is good enough for him. As an introvert, he values a partner who he can share space with, without feeling weighed down; when Eugene is close to someone, he ceases to be drained by their presence, even sometimes recharged just by being around them. His love language is calm and quiet, each partner doing their own thing in the same room, utterly content. If he gets to share things with his partner, like interesting books or sketches of birds he’s done... well, that’s even better.

Chuckler Juergens: Physical affection / Acts of Service. Like... Chuckler has a dozen ways of showing affection, and is very open about it. He doesn’t hold back in any way; physical affection comes easiest to him, being an enthusiastic tree of a man, so he’s more than willing to hug and even lift people off their feet under the right circumstances. He enjoys touch; he loves receiving touch, and it makes him feel most loved. It’s hard to call that his primary love language, though, when that’s not really how he gives affection. Chuckler’s care is made obvious through his instinctual doting, the way he gives to his loved ones constantly without the expectation of recieving anything in return. He looks after them... but to be looked after in return isn’t something he’d know what to do with. He’s at his happiest being hugged by a partner as they stroll through a rainstorm, while he holds an umbrella over their head --- the best of both worlds for him. Runner Conley: Literally a mess. He doesn’t have a love language, he just bounces back and forth with a little bit of everything. Look, he got them something cool at the store, because it’s a funny shade of purple that reminded him of them! Look, his favorite movie’s playing, let’s watch it together! Look, their sink pipes are making a weird noise, he can totally fix them! (No, he cannot, but he did pay the plumber who cleaned up his mess generously.) One of those people who genuinely don’t have a love language, because they’re a little bit of everything. A relationship means figuring out what your partner needs in real time. Runner just rolls with the punches. Hoosier Smith: Quality time. Hoosier is very particular about who he spends his time with; the sheer act of accepting someone into his space means he cares about them. He betrays his affection for his partner in fond smiles and tiny gestures, like sharing a blanket or offering a bit of the food he’s eating (!! generous hoosier spotted in the wild!). Should he actively seek out his partner’s company, it’s a revelation for everyone involved --- there’s no surer sign that Hoosier’s truly in love. Sid Phillips: Physical affection. While Sid is absolutely a gentleman in love, he’s also a very physically demonstrative lover, and enjoys physical affection in return. He can get a bit clingy at times, just because he enjoys being close to them. Tucking his arm around their shoulders or feeling their body against his side comforts him; he needs physical touch to be assured that they’re still there. Nothing makes him feel more loved than when his partner dotes on him, cupping his face and peppering kisses over his brow. He’ll turn bright red, but won’t be able to keep the grin off his face, which makes it all worth it. RV Burgin: Acts of service / Words of affirmation. Burgie’s a generous lover in every sense of the word. His instinct is to give --- after all, what better way could there be to show someone he cares for them? While not shy about his verbal praise, and he certainly grows more confident in speaking his feelings aloud over time, Burgie’s willingness to help his partner with anything -- even things he knows nothing about, like fixing a car or shopping for a new toaster --- shows exactly how devoted he is. He’ll rearrange all his day plans just because someone he cares about needs something. Jay De L'Eau: Quality time. Literally he just wants to be around his partner --- he enjoys it so much, and is so happy just to be with them. Yes, this means he occasionally gets dragged into things he’s got no interest doing. Does he really want to be involved with brunch? Did he needs to volunteer at an animal shelter for six hours? No, but it meant spending more time around his partner, and getting to know them more, so it’s worth it. He doesn’t ask for the same in return, but a partner who took interest in his interests would absolutely delight him --- he’d feel so loved. Bill Leyden: Acts of service. As mentioned in the previous headcanons, he’s... such a nice person when he’s in love that it’s weird. He won’t just do favors for his partner --- he’ll do them for his friends, without being asked, and without bitching about it once. Usually, he’s doing these favors while his partner is around to witness it. (Wow, look what a great person he is! What a generous friend! What husband material!) Bill knows what’s up. He’s doing fine. Snafu Shelton: Giving gifts. Are they gifts any sane person would necessarily want? Not really. How’d he get into their house to leave a doll made of sticks on their pillow? Who the hell knows? Is it a threat? Possibly. He just... he doesn’t really know how to go about it any other way, so he gives things. They’re not expensive things, cause damn him if he’s got money to burn... but if he were to splurge on anyone, it would be on his partner. If he spots something he knows they’ll like on the store shelves, or just something that reminds him of them... hell, he might even save up for it. Just for them --- nobody else in the world. Andy Haldane: Quality time. He really adapts to the other person, trying to figure out what they need/want the most. Andy can perform of the five love languages well, and it’ll mean the most coming from him... but he’s most comfortable just spending time around his partner. That’s all he needs. Intimacy, emotional and physical, is so important to him... being able to have a companion who he can share space and thoughts with makes all the difference. He wants a confidante. He wants someone to share with --- not his thoughts, all the time, but everything he loves the most about life. If they can find moments to simply revel in each others’ shared company, Andy’s a happy man. Hillbilly Jones: Acts of service. Devotion is Hillbilly’s greatest virtue; when he’s in love with someone, they become priority, and he’ll have their back through anything. This includes doing anything for them. Not little things, like tying their damn shoes, because a body has to be able to stand on their own (and frankly, Hillbilly loves a partner who can look after themselves)... but big things. If he knows something is stressing them out, he’ll try to take care of it behind the scenes to make their life easier. He wants to manage problems before they become problems, just to keep them off his partner’s plate... but the quietest gestures, like the plate of breakfast he puts together in the morning or the massage he offers after a long day, speak the loudest for how he truly feels.

Saving Private Ryan

John Miller: Words of affirmation. He understands keenly the value of words, and what impact the right ones can have. John is never careless with what he says; he always means them, and expects those around him to mean them too. When he says he loves someone, there’s no room for interpretation: he loves them. He’s best with verbal interaction, values communication in a relationship, and will often hold onto a fond word said by his partner weeks --- even months --- after it leaves their lips. John’s got an elephant’s memory for words, and each one has meaning to him.

Mike Horvath: Acts of service. Of course, Mike’s more than willing to tell people what he’s thinking outright, but to him, caring for someone is more about what’s done than said. He’s an action guy. Being able to help someone he loves in any way --- whether it’s fixing a leaky sink, pushing a broken down car, or getting them take-out when they don’t feel like making dinner --- means enough in the long run. He doesn’t make a big deal about it, but Mike’s a reliable presence; when he cares for someone, he’s always there when they need him, ready to help.

Stanley Mellish: Words of affirmation. Just because he’s a loudmouth doesn’t mean he doesn’t care; Stan shows his affection through teasing and remarks that are half-straightforward. It’s hard to tell when he really means it sometimes, but he’s not shy about talking to his partner. What he thinks, what he wants, what he loves... they all come out eventually, in a trickle or a flood. Stan’s feelings only grow stronger when they’re spoken out loud. He’s not a big fan of vulnerability, even alone with the person he loves, but sometimes he says something without a single ounce of sarcasm --- confessions of love and admiration so blunt, so devastatingly sincere, that there’s no doubt he means it.

Adrian Caparzo: Physical affection. With big body comes big responsibility, and Caparzo’s happy to rise to the task. It helps that he grew up in a big, loud family, where the go-to means of affection was smacking and tackling each other. Physical affection is the best way he knows how to show affection. Yes, he’s a hugger. Yes, he sometimes lifts people up. (Yes, he’s lifted Mellish a few times, but it was an accident, and Mellish doesn’t like to bring it up.) Honestly, he can be a little careless with it, too free with physical contact at times... but nothing makes him feel more reassured than having another body near him, available to hug or seek comfort from if needed.

Irwin Wade: Quality time. Wade doesn’t demand much in a relationship, but he also doesn’t impose. He’s got a naturally mellow presence --- “calming”, some people have said, and he’s not sure how he feels about that --- but while he wouldn’t mind being caught up in the bustle of a louder partner, he’s just as happy spending a night in. Just enjoying time with them, relishing the quiet moments when both of their guards are down and they’re at their most natural... those moments are precious to him. He feels like he learns more about his partner then than any other time.

Daniel Jackson: Acts of service. Jackson doesn’t need lots of words to tell someone how he feels --- and frankly, if he can show it without words, he will. He was raised to believe a man’s words ain’t worth much if he can’t back them up with action, and that’s exactly what he does. Lord knows, Jackson would never tell someone he loves them if he couldn’t show it in twenty different ways. Doing things for them makes him feel useful, gives him a rush of pride whenever they smile at him; he might not be able to afford fancy gifts, but he can do chores to make their life a little easier, massage their sore muscles after a long day, cook breakfast and run errands when they need it.

Richard Reiben: Words of affirmation. Local Man Does Not Know How To Shut The Hell Up. He’s really good at talking, even if he’s not saying anything at all --- it’s a talent. Expecting Rich to shut up is like expecting a frog to grow wings. When he feels something strongly, he’s learned to say it loudly. Full disclosure, he’s not the best with feelings, and being sentimental out loud makes him feel like an idiot, so no eloquent declarations of eternal love here... but he’ll think of two dozen ways to say it in the meantime, like “those pants are working wonders on you” or “your presentation’s gonna be better than all the rest of ‘em”, or “no one does that better than you”. His partner doesn’t have to dig too deep for hidden meanings to realize he’s actually saying “I love you”.

Timothy Upham: Giving gifts. Don’t get me wrong, he’s read love poetry in half a dozen languages, and even enjoyed some of it... but ultimately, Tim is better at giving words, rather than saying them. He’s thoughtful, noticing what authors they like to read, what their favorite genres are, favorite topics of conversation... picking out books is like a game to him, and he’s got a talent for finding what other people will enjoy. He likes to surprise his partner, presenting a fresh volume somewhat nervously, rambling about exactly why he picked it until they take mercy and interrupt him. Sometimes it’s fiction; sometimes, it’s learning hobbies; sometimes it’s little volumes of philosophy or poetry that remind him of his partner... he’s even written his own poems, once or twice, though his face was so red when he gave it to them that they almost thought he needed medical attention.

James Ryan: Acts of service. He can be overeager at times, but gosh, does this boy mean well. It’s most important to James to show how much he cares for people; he loves spending time with them (ideally showing them his hobbies or going on “adventures”, which might involve a spontaneous hike or going to a diner at 3am) but more than anything, he loves doing things for them. He’s eager to. Throw him a bone --- or a task to do --- and he’ll jump on them. It gives him a sense of purpose, and the earnest feeling that he’s giving back to his partner all the love they show him.

#spr #saving private ryan #the pacific #hbo war #headcanons

54 notes · View notes

ducktracy · 4 years ago

Text

179. rover’s rival (1937)

release date: october 9th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky, puppy), robert c. bruce (rover)

at long last, rover’s rival makes history before the short even begins: this is the first cartoon to debut the opening using “the merry go round broke down”, as well as the first cartoon to have porky bursting out of the drum at the end (which i believe is animated by sid sutherland? for the 1937-1938 season anyway). the merry go round broke down would be the longest running theme song—even the merrie melodies would drop “merrily we roll along” in favor of the former in 1964. quite a feat indeed!

the cartoon itself is a fun one (as are the clampett porkys of the 1937-1938 season, a particularly strong one): porky is eager to teach his old dog rover new tricks, despite the old saying. a plucky little pup is just as eager to out-perform the old pooch, much to the displeasure of porky and rover.

the structured, spherical, well-constructed close-up of porky as he peruses a book on how to teach your dog new tricks (by author clawed meatly, no less!) can only be attributed to john carey’s hand at the cartoon’s open. porky babbles on in excitement (”oh be-boy, here’s a honey of a-a trick to teach my deh-dee-deh-do-de-dee—eh-pooch!”), wasting no time to jump out of his chair and grab the necessary toys to entertain his pup. for an expository sequence, the scene flows quickly but smoothly, especially the scene where porky grabs the hoop and the ball to play with rover. there are no cuts, and he doesn’t stop to grab either—he just glides along, propelled by his giddiness.

juxtaposition is key to comedy, and here is no exception: clampett does a great job of building up to rover’s reveal. porky dashes to rover’s doghouse, calling fragmented commands to whatever lies within the kennel. “ol’ strongheart”, as porky calls him, is finally introduced with a triumphant fanfare. hold on the still of the doghouse, and our hero enters:

note how the book porky was reading wasn’t titled “new tricks to teach your old dog”. there are no clues that porky’s faithful companion is a withered, tired, geriatric old dog (except for maybe all of the positive reinforcement—that is, “ol’ strongheart”, the fanfare, porky’s excitement—which makes itself too good to be true). chuck jones is, of course, behind the animation of rover’s entrance. once again, part of the three key identifiers to chuck jones animation: dogs, drunks, and close-ups. sometimes all three!

porky tells rover that they’ll try a couple of easy tricks “to weh-warm up”. as rover follows his owner’s order to sit up, remnants of the more comic strip looking iwerks shorts sprinkle in to the animation of rover’s vertebrae cracking as he slowly sits up--little stars and lines (accompanied by treg brown’s excellent creaking sound effects) further just how weak and old porky’s faithful companion is. if we still had any doubt, our suspicions are confirmed as rover answers porky’s command to roll over in the voice of an old man’s (provided by robert c. bruce, who would narrate a good number of upcoming cartoons): “eeeeh?”

enter the antagonist, a perfect, pint-sized foil: rover’s rival, a tiny little pest of a pup who tinkers into the scene. he spots rover struggling to roll over and winks knowingly at the audience, jabbing a thumb in a gesture that reads “get a load of this guy!” interesting to note, they don’t cut away to the pup’s introduction--rather, the camera zooms in as the pooch gets closer to the action, a fade leading to the next shot. a subtle but nice move that brings the audience along with the pesky little rival and evokes a sense of involvement, menial as it may seem.

bobe cannon animates the close-up of rover struggling to roll over, repeatedly flopping to one side. the stray pup offers to display a shred of neighborliness by blowing on rover as he gets close to actually rolling over, once more tipping him back where he started.

porky, undeterred, moves to a new tactic: the ol’ jump through the hoop trick. he signals for his faithful companion to do so, and is taken aback as the little pup jumps through instead. great joke after: porky eyes the now broken hoop, turning around as he curses “aww, neh-ne-nu-ne--shucks!” as he does so, the absence of the hoop reveals a metallic pan hanging on the side of the house, which rover (still following porky’s orders) crashes right into. wonderful timing and wonderful sound effects.

the rival pooch approaches a dazed and confused rover (with a double exposure cuckoo clock springing out of rover’s head and cooing wildly to suggest as such), barking up a storm before snarling in a high pitched, nasally voice “ya old antique! why, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks! why don’tcha give yourself up?”

despite the pup’s incessant bullying, porky is still determined to go against the age old saying. as he offers for rover to catch a rubber ball, rover chews out the smug pup, raving about young whippersnappers. “watch THIS!” rover awaits the ball thrown into the air with an open mouth, leading to some prime scheme hatching opportunities for the pup.

there’s some nice dry brush action to convey the movement as the puppy lugs a conveniently placed pumpkin and throws it into the air with a some effort, which lands squarely in rover’s maw (much to the bewilderment of porky.) dry brushing would be everywhere in the 40′s cartoons--and i say that lovingly, it’s an art!--but it’s awfully interesting to find it in a 30′s cartoon. you’d be amazed at the variety of ways it can convey speed or motion!

john carey does some wonderful animation of the pup’s comeuppance, now touting the ball in its mouth and giving a self-satisfied, quiet “yea, man!” (a reoccurring catchphrase in the cartoons of the late ‘30′s) before launching into a showboating routine. he bounces the ball onto his back legs, juggling it and even turning into a seal--barks and all--as he balances the ball on his nose, putting poor old rover to shame. instead of having the pup act like a seal, his hind legs melt together to form an actual fin, pushing the gag further. it’s a great little detail, and the jaunty score of “’cause my baby says it’s so” serves as another plus.

ending the routine, the pup opts to berate rover more, who grows tearful from the barrage of insults. “you mean t’ say... i’m one of them thar... used-to-was-es?” the prick pooch imitates rover’s speech (and appearance, his face saggy and wrinkly--to quote the cartoons, “a reasonable facsimile”): “yes, i mean to say, you’re one of them there used-to-was-es!”

finally, porky intervenes: “hey, don’t eh-imic-eh-ick-eh... don’t imic-eh-eh... don’t mimic rover, he’s eh-see-eh-ss-ehh-sensitive!” so, of course, the pup magically gains a few pounds in the face to mirror porky, stuttering back in a nasally voice (more than normal) “eh-geh-geh-geh-gee, i’m sorry to hear eh-theh-theh-eh-theh-that!” he snarls at porky in comically ear-splitting volume, rendering porky hurt for a despair-filled two seconds. but, of course, he’s back to his excitable old self after he finds another trick for rover to do.

clever decision to make the trick a “surprise”: we don’t find out what it is until after rover excitedly dashes over to porky (doing a running take in mid-air as he struggles to gain traction). the trick is simple: fetch the stick. porky tosses the stick, prompting the pup to lean up against porky’s belly nonchalantly and give a monotone, condescending countdown: “one... two... three... seven... eight... two... nine... ten...”

predictably, the puppy grows impatient, and darts off screen to outperform rover once more. rover, on the other hand, takes his sweet time picking up the stick, which proves to be to his detriment as the pup swoops in last second to grab it. i love the “shiver take” on the lower body of the pup as he slides away with the stick (another “yea, man!”, no less)--little touches like that to remind us that this is a ‘30′s cartoon are much appreciated, on my end at least. nevertheless, rover still goes in for the bite, spitting out a mouthful of dirt.

porky and the pup play a quick round of spiteful tug of war with the stick. porky manages to free the stick from the ever menacing jaws of the beast, insisting that it’s rover’s turn to get it. he throws it again, and this time rover does manage to grab it: but his dentures free from his mouth, clamping down on the immobilized stick on the ground, returning with a mouthful of nothing but saliva. pooch, on the other hand, returns the stick--dentures and all. this drawing speaks for itself in how funny it is, porky’s befuddlement always a plus.

rover inserts his dentures before getting the stick a third time, whereas porky pins down the pup (who’s winding up to retrieve it once more.) the timing of porky pinning the pup is excellent: the jump itself is only six frames, and all on ones, making it go by in an instant. treg brown’s thumping sound effect of porky pinning his entire weight down on such a small creature is the icing on the cake.

seeing as this is a cartoon, and a warner bros. one at that, the stick lands in a site filled with dynamite. so, of course, it’s only logical for a senile old dog to confuse his stick with a stick of dynamite explicitly labeled as such. rover retrives the dynamite and brings it back to an overjoyed porky (holding the pup by the turtleneck). bobe cannon animates porky gloating to the pup: “see? rover got the s-eh-ss-ehh... he got the suh-eh-seh...”

polite head pats from porky turns into porky thrusting rover’s face into the ground as he does a take, finally realizing that he’s holding ”DYNAMITE!!!” the dynamite physically clings to porky’s hand as he aimlessly thrashes around in attempt to throw it, finally managing to do so. the pooch runs off to catch it, whereas rover inquires “dynamite!?” and does some running of his own.

dashing inside the house, rover plops himself into porky’s armchair with urgency as chuck jones animates the hilarious close-up of rover frantically thumbing through a dictionary, mumbling and sweating all the way. the dead-eye and reading glasses are the perfect touch to top off the gag.

elsewhere, the pooch returns to porky with the dynamite, whispering another satisfied “yea, man!” as a job well done. porky is quick to throw the dynamite off into the distance, ordering “ee-eh-GO HOME, WILL YA!?” after the pup retrieves the dynamite once more, we’re treated with a GREAT scene by chuck jones as bob clampett’s love of magic tricks give us rapidly appearing dynamite sticks, pulled out of the infinite pockets of the pooch. chuck’s animation of porky frantically pulling on an interminable string of dynamite sticks (in the same manner of the old never-ending handkerchief trick) is especially smooth and a delight to see (animated on ones.) the upbeat score of “nagasaki” also compliments the scene nicely, reflecting the frenzied action.

eventually, the altercation turns into a rapid fire throwing match between pig and pup, dynamite sticks flying. porky struggles to catch all of the sticks, but does so anyway. the nuisance of a pup adds insult to injury by sticking dynamite sticks in porky’s mouth and ears (which would be revisited 13 years later in chuck jones’ classic the ducksters), segueing into a standard but great gag: the pooch asks if porky has a match on him. porky thinks for a split second, and, out of the goodness (or, gullibility rather) of his heart, reaches into his pile of explosives and pulls out a match.

the pooch lights all of the dynamite in porky’s possession as we cut to rover, still frantically thumbing through the D section in the dictionary. back to porky, who frantically scales a tree after recognizing his peril. the persistent puppy pops out from a bird’s nest full of baby birds, offering a terrified porky a plethora of dynamite sticks. with the same speed as he went up the tree, porky flies back down to the ground, where he STILL can’t catch a break. cue one of my favorite mel blanc deliveries as the pooch appears from the bottom of the tree, forking over a dynamite-lit birthday cake. porky rejects the pup’s birthday wishes with an ear-splitting “uh-teh-ee-eh-tee-eh-tee-ehTAKE IT AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!”

once more to rover, who finally uncovers the definition of the elusive dynamite: “noun. ‘a high explosive.’ EXPLOSIVE!?” he runs like he’s never ran before as he darts out of the house. back to porky in a hilariously staged shot, praying incomprehensibly to himself as he’s surrounded in a barricade of dynamite, the sadistic puppy laughing and pointing at him in the process.

thankfully, rover comes to the rescue: he scoops up the barricade of explosives, carrying the bundle in his mouth as he runs away to expose of the danger. of course, that doesn’t stop the puppy, who manages to lift rover up (with a gleeful grin towards the audience as he does so), turning him around and bringing him back to porky. porky tosses the dynamite away, inadvertently disposing of rover’s dentures along with the bundle. yet, like before, the pesky pooch returns with the dentures in his mouth, dynamite sizzling away in between the false teeth.

some lovely, dimensional angles of the pup sweeping across the screen and into the foreground as he and rover engage in a high stakes game of tug of war. in ‘30′s cartoons, animation is bound to be rubbery, especially in a clampett cartoon, but the decision to turn the dynamite into the consistency of rubber to demonstrate the push and pull of the two forces is a nice touch. rover manages to grab a hold of the bundle of dynamite, his own dentures snapping him right in the nose.

the gag isn’t staged very well and gets lost in the action, but rover’s dentures fly into the air as he dashes away once more to dispose of the dynamite. the dentures land back on a nearby tree branch, snagging onto the pup’s tail and causing him to dangle aimlessly from the branch. the same type of gag would be used just a few months prior on ub iwerks’ porky and gabby, which clampett also had involvement in. as the cherry on top, rover returns briefly to shake porky’s hand in a sorrowful but respectful goodbye. porky covers himself just in time for the explosion offscreen, marked by an orchestral resolution chord and a sign from the dynamite site that lands conveniently in the scene: “WE’VE BLASTED!”

both porky and his sadistic little puppy friend are quick to rush to the scene of the crime. the drawing of rover lying flat on the ground is confusing at first glance: he’s supposed to be covered in dirt, but the transparency of the cel and two dimensional line work of the dirt covering him make it appear as though rover had been dismembered in the process--gruesome, isn’t it? nevertheless, the pup proves to be much more mournful than porky, actually displaying a shred of empathy as he tearfully chats up rover, blabbering on about how he didn’t mean any of it, rover is capable of learning new tricks, and that he’s “the best little stick-bringer-backer that ever was.”

as to be expected, rover pops up, perfectly fine, just in time for the iris out: “do ya mean it?”

bob clampett has the most porky entries out of any director, and while i frequent his the most, this is one i continue to forget about. which is a shame on my part, because it’s so much fun! right off the bat i say you should go watch this one, it’s a lot of fun. while it’s nowhere near as boundary breaking as clampett’s later films, it’s still rife with energy and life. i love how the gags are often pushed to being taken literally: the pup’s hind legs turning into a fin as he mimics a seal, his face contorting to match rover’s and porky’s, the “WE’VE BLASTED!” sign after warnings of “DANGER -- WE’RE GONNA BLAST” sprinkle up between shots, and so forth. moreover, there’s some fine animation in this one, from john carey and chuck jones especially. the seal scene with the pup and the never-ending dynamite are probably my favorites, though there are a ton of funny shots as is, such as the pup with the dentures and porky praying as the pup openly mocks him.

of course, it’s not perfect--the animation is messier in some places than others, and you could argue that the back and forth structure of the gags could grow repetitive, but the benefits certainly outweigh the negatives. this is a fun early piece that reflects how far the cartoons have come, but also demonstrates that there’s much to look forward to it. go check it out!

link!

#lt #looney tunes #rover’s rival #reviews #long post #clampett

27 notes · View notes

crosbymalkin871 · 5 years ago

Text

The Price of Love (1/?)

CHAPTER TITLE: All It Takes is One Huge Paycheck…

RATING: M PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: E. Malkin/S. Crosby

CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINK: Alcohol, Foul Language, mentions of Prostitution, Mario Lemieux, vague allusions to Smut

AUTHOR’S NOTE: FINALLY! AFTER FOUR-FIVE MONTHS OF NO HOCKEY, THE LACK OF MOTIVATION, AND ME ACTUALLY NOT HAVING TO DEAL WITH A LOT OF STRESS, I’M FINALLY BACK!!!! Originally I wanted to post this the night of game 1, but shit happened and then I tried to post it before game 2, but y’all are getting it today! XD As a piece of compensation on my end, chapter 2 will be posted on Sunday evening. I promise, and if I don’t keep my word, bash me in the head with a hockey stick until I get a concussion.

Before you all begin reading, I just have to say thank you to everyone who has messaged me their excitement and their support throughout these difficult moments, it really means a lot. I also wish to extend my appreciation to 3 specific individuals: my friends @justinschultzy & @eafay70, and my dear Zhenya aka @cakemakethme (who will also be my Beta from chapter 2 or 3 onward). You three were the ones I continuously messaged updates on and your cheerleading was what ended up leading me to finishing this. So thank you very, very much! xxx

I have been wanting to write this fic for…gosh, maybe 2-3 years now and it’s finally being presented to all of you. I’m so excited for everyone to read it and to join me on this insane rollercoaster that is The Price of Love. With that all said and done I hope you all enjoy it, like and reblog, and I will (hopefully) post more sometime in the near future.

DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Pittsburgh Penguins, or are associated with anyone in the NHL. I just have a very strong imagination.

A variety of noises ring out in Geno’s ears.

“Beer, over here!”

“Four sangrias for table three.”

“Vodka. Straight.”

“Whisky on the rocks.”

“Daiquiri. Make it a double.”

“Two champagne cocktails for table seven.”

Orders just keep coming and coming. He had been tossing and filling up a number of glasses and flutes for hours, sending them out left and right at the bar with almost no chance of having a small break in between. It was alright though, he grew used to it throughout his years of being one of the many favored bartenders at the Emperor Nightclub.

That, and he gets some real good money out of it, collecting all the large tips he gets whenever he cleans up the dirtied tables afterward.

With he and Tanger, his best friend and the other tender manning the bar, it feels like a marathon— albeit an easy one— to serve the feisty ladies and semi-agro men currently trying to take over the club.

The Emperor Nightclub is still up and running as the night starts to grow late. With a birthday bunch, a small group of ladies having a girl’s night, a married couple looking for a partner or two to join their bed (whether they were open or poly, Geno wasn’t sure), and college graduates dominating the patrons tonight along with the regulars— the nightclub roars as if it is New Year’s Eve in NYC instead of any other weekend in Pittsburgh.

No empty space could be seen on sight from where he was standing, with new patrons coming in the later part of the night, while the earlier patrons have made the decision to stay even after hours of partying and hollering.

Geno was given a small break as the crowd in front of the bar disperses, having been satisfied with the drinks they were given, taking whatever leftover bills he was given as a form of tip.

So far, it was a relatively good night for him.

Well…until a small, very familiar group came in, with the leader catching his eye like he usually does.

Being a bartender at a pretty famous nightclub in Pittsburgh, he sees a whole spectrum of people walking in and out of the nightclub’s doors: with some of them wanting to down tons and tons of alcohol that’ll make them black out until tomorrow afternoon, and others being on the prowl for someone to either take to their car, a nearby hotel, or even the nightclub’s bathroom.

One of them was about three or four, sometimes even more, prostitutes that are part of the latter category, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t take the time to chat with the bartenders, something that always brightened Geno’s night, especially when he was continuously swamped with drink orders…

…which is how Geno’s break ends: more people clamoring to the bar.

As of on cue, the moment that he continues to engage in dealing with patron’s drinks, the orders come rolling in even faster that he almost skipped a beat. From the corner of his eye, he could see the expression on Tanger’s face becoming more focused as his orders keep coming in with some extra flirting and touching from the patrons on his part.

He snorts at that. While Geno didn’t necessarily mind a customer or two coming up to flirt with him, he was never really interested in them, only responding back just to make their night a little bit better.

Out of all of his friends, it was Tanger that got the most attention from the patrons, with he following at a close second. It made sense because the French-Canadian looked like a supermodel. And himself? Well he wasn’t really sure if American people have a thing for foreigners like him, but he continuously gets complimented on his ability to wear a suit. So he considers that a plus.

His other friend, Dumo, tended to get third; primarily because he got a lot of attention from the college kids, either doing an insane number of shots or just randomly asking about his athletic abilities. Needless to say, it was very amusing to watch him wrack attention from the younger crowd. Though if anybody were to catch his eye, they should be aware of how damn good a cook he was.

The other two bartenders, Big Rig and Schultzy, also managed to garner themselves some attention from the patrons. Big Rig, for his height as he stood almost 7 feet tall (much taller than Geno), and Schultzy, for his happy-go-lucky personality. It was always something that made event the downiest of drinkers smile a little.

Even if he feels just a tad overwhelmed by the all of the drinks he has to quickly make, getting a glimpse of dark, curly black hair and a thick, white fur coat was enough to quell his nerves.

“You all need some additional help?”

A voice comes from Geno’s left side and it makes him jump a little (but not enough to make him mess up an order, which he has done before and has given the person who scared him a very stern talking to). He looks over to see who it was and finds Dumo standing there with his usual laid-back smile. Geno may or may not have breathed out a small sigh of relief at his arrival.

“Possibly, considering that G has been trying to catch a glimpse of Sid rather than seeing how much booze he’s pouring in.” Tanger smirks, placing at Geno teasingly.

Geno rolled his eyes and answered with a scoff. “Yeah. Like you not staring at Flower too, Tanger.” He feels a little vindication when seeing the French-Canadian man scowl in return. “But help always needed, Dumo. Things getting a bit out of hand and no one planning on going home soon.” Even though he knows he’ll get teased about it even more, his eyes couldn’t help wander off around the club, looking at all the excitement that is still going strong.

And again, seeing black curls and a white fur coat— Sid was his name— releases some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Alright then.” Dumo clapped his hands before he started to roll his sleeves of his button-up. “No one is really wanting drinks on my end of the bar, might as well waste time by giving you guys a hand.”

Neither Tanger or Geno responded to him as he already accepted his first round of orders from the loud frat boys and flighty sorority girls welcoming him, leaving the other two to tend the ones lining up at their respective corners.

Within the next minute or so, all three of them found themselves falling into a rhythm as they worked side-by-side, the drinks continuing to flow out and tips continuing to flow in. And with more patrons visiting the bar, come more even more orders and even more tips.

The extra pair of hands certainly help a lot in making the work feel a whole lot easier.

Dumo serves every patron that tries to start a conversation with him, listen to their problems in one ear while paying attention to orders in the other. He also subtly brushes off any flirty advances, but he does throw a smile here and a wink there to please all who are openly staring at him. He even does a little dance to the beat of the music as a little extra entertainment.

“Should’ve been a stripper, Dumo.” Tanger tells him as he stuffs some more bills into his pockets. “Missed the chance to be Magic Mike in Hollywood, but there’s still a chance here.”

Geno snorts as he slides a mint julep down the bar.

“Ha ha. Very funny, Tanger,” Dumo states unamused. “Can say the same about you too.”

Tanger just flips him off while Geno snorts again.

Eventually, the orders died down and the patrons scattered about. Dumo returned to the other bar on the opposite side of the room with Schultzy and Big Rig, while Tanger cleaned up any spilled alcohol left on the bar top.

Geno, meanwhile, began pouring more cocktails, glasses of wine, and laying more beer bottles onto a tray; but these were for any of the people hugging their half-full drinks, or for the tables that were littered with empty glasses and lime wedges.

No. This tray of drinks are for a certain group that he had noticed earlier.

Carefully, yet a little giddily, he manages to carry the tray single-handedly, and without spilling a single drop of liquor, all the way to a very specific table within the Emperor Nightclub.

As he walks closer and closer, the wild pacing of his heartbeat grows more and more. When he finally reaches the table, standing behind the object of his secret affections, he quietly gulps and places a gentle hand on his fur-covered shoulder.

The man stops whatever he was doing and turns around to look at him. And Geno swears he could feel his breath escaping his lungs and his rapidly-beating heart stopping.

Aside from their beautiful curly hair, the man also had the prettiest brown eyes and the biggest, most kissable lips imaginable (not that the bartender would ever admit that to him). He also had on an outfit that was not afraid to show off his…well, assets; outside of the white fur coat, he wore a white crop top with a red maple leaf on it, black leather shorts that magically fits his ass, and past those long, thick legs were a pair of black stripped high-heels that decorated his feet.

Sid smiles kindly at him, his teeth showing behind those glossed lips. “Hi, Geno.” he calls in his deep yet sweet-sounding voice. It didn’t sound flirtatious or seductive, which is normally how he talked to his clients, with the bartender, he always sounded genuine and pleasantly happy to see him serving drinks to him and his friends.

Geno nervously smiled back. “H-Hey, Sid,” he replies, silently curing himself for stammering in front of a prostitute who he may or may not have a big crush on. “Flower, Segway, Mitch,” he also greeted, who were all looking at him before he grabbed Sid’s attention. He began setting down the cocktails, wine, and beer. “Here are usual orders.”

The three other men accepted their drinks: a margarita, a beer, and a glass of white wine, respectively.

Still smiling, Sid happily accepted his cosmopolitan, plucking a strawberry off the skewer that was resting atop the martini glass. “Thanks, G,” he says before popping the mini strawberry into his mouth. “I know everyone has their favorite bartenders, but I still say you make the best cocktails.”

Hearing that from Sid (and watching him eat a simple piece of fruit) was enough to bring a blush and a dumbstruck smile to Geno’s face. “H-Heh…Thanks, Sid.”

Sid nods, eyes shining with a glint of something as he takes a sip of his cocktail.

It was a small moment or two of awkward (on the bartender’s part at least) silence before he coughed. “I, uhm, I’m best get back to work, so…bye.” With that, he quickly flees back to the bar.

(As he did so, he heard the soft giggles coming from Sid, but he failed to see him lightly admonish his friends as they smirked at the obvious crush the bartender had.)

After that little incident, Geno spent the rest of the night catering to any other patron that walked up and asked for— or sloppily demanded— drinks. Whenever he had a spare moment or two, he would glance up at table eight, watching the small group of friends chatting, laughing, and attempting to flirt with some of the other patrons that would stop by their table.

Part of Geno’s heart crumbled whenever he saw Sid respond to some of the men’s flirtatious mannerisms, whether it be throwing out seductive words, or a teasing touch, or even a tickle of breath or the faint press of lips.

He knows Sid isn’t tied down to someone. Why would he, the man was a prostitute after all. But that didn’t mean watching him act like that with others didn’t hurt.

From the moment he first met Sid, back when they were teenagers to young adults and Geno had just started working at the Emperor Nightclub, he always harbored secretly feelings for the young Canadian. He remembered the first time he ever plucked up the courage to speak to him and slide him a cocktail: one of his first attempts at a watermelon cooler, too easy of a drink to mess up on.

It was a bit strong on the booze and not fruity enough, but Sid didn’t tell him that. He just smiled and thanked him in a voice that oozed sensuality and charm, throwing in a wink for good measure. When he saw how awkwardly the bartender responded to it— by stammering and not completely picking up the subtle cue— he dropped the act, apologizing for making him feel awkward. To which Geno has to apologize as well, because he didn’t meant to make the moment awkward, he just wasn’t good at responding to someone who was cute like him.

That made Sid pause and blush, looking away from the bartender for a split second before gazing back up at him, a gentle smile on his face. This caused Geno to smile back, the both of them feeling a bit more relaxed than before. When the awkwardness of it all faded away, the two of them began to chat during the bartender’s break, or whenever he would get a breather from serving. In those small conversations, he realized that the flirty prostitute was actually…very dorky.

A dorky man who had a passion for history, craved mozzarella sticks and cheesecake, and had a strong affinity for sports just like he once did. And he had the goofiest laugh Geno had ever heard and thought it adorable. Seeing this, Sid’s true colors was what made him slowly start to fall in love.

But deep down, he knew that Sid would never feel the same about him. To him, it was fairly certain that he would get rejected upon confessing his feelings. So, in every encounter the two had after that, Geno would simply swallow his feelings and allowed Sid to flirt and be affectionate with other men that weren’t him.

They were just friends, nothing more.

(Although he can’t help but secretly wish for that to change one day).

Geno sighed sadly and began to untie his apron, ready to go into the staff room and change back into his regular clothes when Tanger tapped him on the shoulder. He looked over at him, ready to tie his apron back on, when he sees him pointing to the stairs near the back of the nightclub.

Coming down the stairs was owner Mario Lemieux.

He turned back to Tanger, brow raised. “So? He does that a lot.”

“Yeah he makes his rounds like he usually does, but does he ever personally come to us for anything? Usually it’s Jen that does it for him.” Tanger points out as they see Mario making his way over to the bar areas.

Geno hummed. He had a fair point, usually it was Jen, Mario’s personal assistant, that went and searched for them whenever he needed to have a conversation with them. In any other instance, the bartender would not hesitate to flee whenever he could, but she would usually find him in the end.

But Mario himself coming out to talk to one— or maybe all of them— was highly unusual.

It was even more unusual when he realizes that Mario coming towards him. He didn’t know whether he should run, or accept whatever was going to be handed to him.

Still tying his apron back on just in case, he meets Mario halfway: near the dance floor but not that far from the tables.

“Ah, Geno,” he says as the bartender comes up to him. “I was just coming to talk to you.”

“Need me to stay extra hours?” he asked, seconds away from letting out a tired sigh. He doesn’t like the idea of staying later than 1 or 2 AM on most days, but if the boss says so, he’ll make an exception.

“No, actually,” Mario shakes head making Geno confused. “I wanted to give you something.” He hands the bartender an envelope.

Taking it, Geno still looked confused as to what it was until he opened it, then his eyes widened in shock.

“Boss, are you— Are you serious?!” he exclaimed as he looked between the envelope in his hand, then back at Mario.

“It’s just little bonus, if you will, for being one of my best workers.”

“This more than bonus and you know it!”

Mario placated him by resting a hand on his shoulder. “As I said, you deserve it,” he reassured. “I know it’s more than what you normally make, and more than the other bonuses I give, but there’s nothing wrong with giving a little bit more to hard workers like you.”

Geno gazed back down at the envelope. Inside was a bonus check of over $10,000.

“But—”

“No buts.” Mario tells him seriously. “I mean it. You’ve been very dedicated to your work from the beginning, even if you were completely new to it. But you quickly improved over time and became a favorite amongst The Emperor’s patrons. It’s not hard to see why, Geno. So, go on, take the extra bonus. Do whatever you want with it, a gift from me to you.”

With that, he gave the bartender a pat on the back before heading back upstairs to his office.

The whole time, Geno’s eyes never left the check.

It was a large amount of money. In fact, it was double than what he normally makes for a bonus: $5000 at most, but if his boss said that he deserved it…well, who was he to deny himself a paycheck like this.

Finally, his eyes left the large sum of money, trailing back to the beautiful prostitute that was still sitting at table eight.

Maybe…maybe his chance had finally come. He may not be able to have a proper relationship with Sid, but he could at least spend one magical night with him, for however long he could make it.

He didn’t know what Sid charged for his services, but he hoped ten thousand dollars was enough to satisfy him (he was sure that it was, he was just being really nervous about confronting him).

Gulping, the bartender slowly— and anxiously— makes his way back to table eight. Along the way, he tries to remember all of the fancy restaurants that are in Pittsburgh, and there are quiet a number of them within the city and the surrounding area.

There was the Altius that has an amazing view of the city… the Monterey Bay Fish Grotto is one of the most famous restaurants… LeMont has been around for decades and is still highly regarded… most of the locals would know about the Grand Concourse… since he liked boats, one of the Gateway Clipper’s Dining Cruises would be nice…

Maybe the Hyeholde since it almost be like dining at a castle… the Carlton has a lot of national recognition… Bravo! Italian Kitchen has a good menu and they do have creme brûlée...

Or…he may just happen to like the Cheesecake Factory instead.

Before he could even make a final decision on what he was going to say, he was standing right in front of Sid (or behind, since his back was turned to him). Luckily for him, his other friends were either out on the dance floor or chatting up the other bartenders; maybe they were in the back lounges, but Geno doesn’t really care, he needed to focus on his main objective right now: gaining Sid’s attention, even if it was for one night.

Reaching a hand out, he hesitates for a split second before he decides to gently tap Sid on the shoulders.

The prostitute turned around to see who was standing behind him again, smiling when he realized who it was. “Hey, G. What’s up?” he asks curiously while he licks something sticky off his fingers.

Geno stared for a hot minute before quickly snapping out of it. “U-Uhm—!” He blushed and scratched the back of his head. “I-I want you to know that Mario gave me big bonus just now…”

Sid smiled wider at that. “That’s great, G! How much of a bonus was it? The usual 5k?”

He shook his head, looking away shyly. “No…gave me double that.”

Brown eyes widened as he exclaimed, “Wait. He gave you $10,000?!”

Geno nodded, showing him the envelop with the check in it. “Yeah, and uhm…was wondering if…” He blushed darker, still keeping his eyes away from Sid.

The prostitute was looking at him with concern now. “If uhm…You want to spend a night with me…?”

Sid stayed silent for the longest time, staring blankly at the bartender as he processed what he just asked him. “Geno, are you— Are you asking me to…service you?”

“Yes. I mean, no! Argh!” The bartender shook his head, feeling more embarrassed and stupid now. “What I’m mean is…I take you to fancy restaurant, maybe do shopping, and…” The blush on his face grew darker. “I-If you wanted, we can go to hotel and… you serve me.”

A blush now came to the prostitute’s face. “O-Oh…”

Geno makes a flustered noise, still not looking Sid.

“I don’t— I-I don’t charge that much for a night's service, Geno,’ he tells the bartender with a shy voice. “Y-You can’t spend 10 grand on me in one night…”

“I-I’m know,” he nods. “But I’m try.”

Sid’s blush grew darker as he now looked away from the bartender. Neither one of them really knew what to say after that, the moment growing tenser and more awkward by the second.

Eventually, the prostitute was the one to speak first. “E-Even if you can’t spend all that money on me…it’d be nice to spend a night with you.”

Geno’s head snaps back to Sid, his own dark brown eyes widened at what he said. “R-Really?”

A small smile came to the prostitute’s face as he nodded. “Yeah,” he admits shyly, now looking back at the bartender. “I really do.”

He’s never admitted this to him, but he’s had a crush on Geno for a very long time now, ever since they met as teenagers in this very nightclub. He always thought the bartender would never want to be in a relationship with him because of what he does, but after hearing what he just said to him, he might actually have a chance to see if they would really work out.

“Uhm, great!” Geno exclaims with a grin.

Sid smiles a little more. “Did you have a particular restaurant in mind?”

The bartender pondered on the choices he thought about earlier before finally making a decision. “Altius?” he asks. “Is on Grandview Avenue and have good view of skyline.”

“Sounds great,” Sid nods in approval. “Maybe we could stop by the Cheesecake Factory afterwards. I haven’t had any in a long time and I’m overdue for a craving.”

“I figure you say that,” Geno chuckled. “Had that in back of mind in case you say no.”

An embarrassed giggle managed to escape the prostitute’s lips. “I guess I make my love of cheesecake very obvious, eh?”

“You do, but is okay,” Geno reassures. “I like that about you.”

Another giggle, this time, one that was more airy and a little bit giddy-sounding. “So, when did you want to do this? Tomorrow night?”

“We can do that,” he nods. “I take night off.”

“Are you Mario would allow that?” Sid raises a teasing brow at him. “I mean, he did just give you a big bonus. He may change his mind when he hears you taking a day off.”

Geno waved at him nonchalantly. “Eh. He not mind.” he tells him. “Besides, be nice to get away from club for one night. And I spending night with you, so is good reason.” He lightly smirked at him.

Sid’s blush couldn’t get any redder, but it manages to with the bartender’s words. Just then a waiter came by and served him another drink, this time, a vibrant sunrise cocktail.

He takes the drink with a nod and a slight smirk before the waiter walks away. He takes a sip before turning back to Geno, his smirk growing in seductiveness. “So,” he starts before licking his lips, a little cayenne salt sticking to them. “Will I be seeing you tomorrow night?”

The bartender gulped and managed to nod, trying to keep his dirty thoughts at bay. “Yeah…see you tomorrow night.”

#SidGeno #Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin #otp: we grew up together here #hockey rpf #my hockey fanfiction #mpreg tw #The Price of Love

39 notes · View notes

just-absolutely-super · 5 years ago

Text

The First Crack

@soulxmakaweek

Day 4, Laughter featuring baby (and by baby I mean they’re, like, 12) SoMa. Enjoy!

Summary: It was the first time she had ever heard him laugh like that... Maka, Soul, and a kitchen mishap

FF.net // AO3

Maka had only known Soul for a week and she was thoroughly convinced he was emotionally constipated.

Seriously, the only form of raw human emotion she saw out of him came in the form of his playing the piano. It was like he had opened a window into his soul, one she had peered eagerly into and accepted wholeheartedly. But then he had decided that she couldn't see any more and firmly shut the window before nailing a bunch of two-by-fours to it, making him impossible to read again.

It didn't help that all their interactions afterwards were in the form of arguments. She'd try to get to know her new partner only for him to make scathing, teasing comments about her appearance and her affliction for reading books. This would cause her to lose her temper, leading to a chop before they'd go back to their respective rooms to do their own thing.

It was rather frustrating. She wondered if all boys were like that. She dismissed that thought, though, when she remembered the other men in her life: her father and Black Star.

Her father had no trouble expressing himself. He often wore his heart on his sleeve (as well as a different woman every day), sobbing big fat tears whenever his darling daughter gave him the cold shoulder. Meanwhile, Black Star spent most of his time crowing about how awesome he was and how he'd surpass God while Professor Sid yelled at him to get off the school's roof before he hurt himself.

No, she deduced that all boys weren't as opposed toward expressing themselves. It must just be a Soul Eater thing.

She could have tried harder to get to know him, but her mother often told her that partnerships were so fragile during the beginning stages. Even if you clicked right away, there was always that risk of things becoming strained and awkward the more you got to know each other. The best plan of action was to always go slow and to not force yourselves on each other.

Maka didn't want to try and search for a new partner—one who was a scythe at least—so she hung herself back and allowed Soul to be his moody, closed-off self. If things worked in her favor, he'd open up to her sooner or later…

"Hey, Mama sent me a blender as a housewarming gift. I'm gonna make a smoothie, do you want one?" she asked him one afternoon, poking her head in his room.

Soul was in bed lying on his stomach, some magazine in his hands. He lifted his head up to acknowledge her, "Yeah, sure. You got strawberries?"

Maka nodded, "Of course! I'll let you know when I'm done."

Soul gave a grunt in reply as Maka bounced into the kitchen. She was excited. Excited because not only was she going to try out her newest appliance, but she and Soul would have another reason to bond with each other. Sure, it may end up as them drinking their cold drinks in the living room while aimlessly flipping channels, but it was better than nothing. Maka liked to think of the glass half-full during these occasions.

After setting the blender up, Maka hummed as she brought the ingredients onto the counter. Following the recipe she had looked up at the library, Maka put everything in the jar. Placing the lid onto the jar, she eagerly pressed the start button…only for nothing to happen.

"Huh?" she said, turning every which way to figure out why the appliance wasn't working. She thought she had everything in place. It should turn on!

After fiddling with it for a while with no results, she got frustrated. She yelled out, "Soul! Could you come in here and help me?"

"What's the matter?" she heard him ask from his bedroom.

"I can't get the blender to come on."

"Are you serious?" he complained. She heard his heavy footsteps. "It's a blender, Maka. It's not like they're hard to use."

She pouted at him when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, "I know that! But I can't get it to turn on!"

Soul rolled his eyes, "Move aside. Let me look at it."

He inspected it. She watched him take the lid off of the jar to look inside, probably making sure nothing was jamming the blades if Maka had to guess. Deducing that the blades were fine, he detached the jar from the base and set it on the counter before picking the base up to examine it. Maka was thankful he had done that; she didn't want to worry about him accidentally spilling the contents of their smoothie onto the floor. After a brief moment, he placed the appliance back on the counter before turning to his meister.

"Found the problem. It's battery operated. You didn't put the batteries in, genius." He said, letting out a chuff at her incompetence.

Maka flushed in embarrassment. She was torn between hiding her face in shame and punching that infuriating smirk off his face.

"I… I thought they were already put in!" she defended.

Soul snorted, "Obviously not." He checked the box Maka had opened when she received the package from her mother. "Oh good, your mom included some batteries. Let me install them then we can work it."

Maka watched him place the batteries in, her cheeks still burning from the shame of making an utter fool of herself in front of her weapon. She hoped this didn't give him second thoughts about agreeing to partner up with her.

"Alright, here we go," she heard Soul say. She looked back to him and saw he was about to hit the "on" button. What she also noticed was in his hurry to make smoothies he had forgotten to put the lid back on the jar.

"W-Wait, Soul! Don't—"

Too late. Soul pressed the button and Maka watched his red eyes widen comically at the realization of what he had just done. Both weapon and meister squealed in shock as the contents of what would have been their fruity drinks exploded over them and their kitchen.

"Shut it off! Shut it off!" Maka screamed, running over to the boy.

"I'm trying! I'm trying!" Soul screamed back, strawberry and yogurt and whatever else had gotten into his eyes, clouding his vision and inhibiting him from hitting the correct button.

"Let me!" she said, forcing the appliance closer to her and managing to find the "off" button. She sighed in relief at hearing the whirling blades die down.

"Man, so uncool!" Soul groaned, running a hand through his hair and grimacing in disgust when it came back covered in pink goop.

Maka blinked at his appearance. The pink tinge of the smoothie and random chunks of strawberry worked really well with his white hair. It practically dyed it. Before she could stop herself she gave an unattractive snort before bursting into uncontrollable giggles.

Soul scowled at her, watching as his meister leaned forward in laughter.

"It's. Not. Funny." He growled.

Maka said in between giggles, "Oh…yes it…is! Hahaha, you look ridiculous!"

"Yeah, like you're any better!" he fired back, gesturing to her own smoothie-covered appearance.

"Yeah, well…" giggle, "at least my hair isn't pink now. You look so uncool!" she then fell onto the floor. The comment might have been mean, but after a week of hearing him call her breasts tiny, it felt like a breath of fresh air to make fun of him for a change.

"We'll see about that…" she heard her weapon say. Maka stopped her giggling upon hearing the underlying threat in his words. Looking up to him, she saw he had a maniacal grin on his face, a handful of pink goop in his hands.

"Soul Eater, don't you dare—" Maka's attempt to threaten him turned into a squeal of shock as Soul dived onto her to rub strawberry smoothie into her pigtails.

"Who's got the pink hair now, huh?" Soul taunted, making sure to slather the chunks of strawberries onto her face for good measure.

"You are DEAD!" with a battle cry, Maka tackled Soul.

The two wrestled each other on the kitchen floor, using whatever they could find among the mess as their ammunition. Various noises coming out of their mouths—screaming, threats of bodily harm, and most of all, laughter.

The laughter was mostly consuming them, to the point they disentangled themselves from their brawl to spread themselves out onto the floor. Maka was clutching her stomach as her sides were starting to hurt.

"Ceasefire, ceasefire!" she pleaded, her guffaws too much for her.

"I can't believe I forgot to put the lid on!" Soul said, "That's like…the number one rule of a blender. You'd have to be a stupid cartoon character to make that mistake! And now I'm covered in all this crap!"

He then turned onto his side as he broke into more infectious laughter. Maka would have joined him if she weren't overcome by a sudden revelation.

This was the first time she had ever heard Soul laugh.

Sure, he would snicker at a crude joke Black Star would tell him, or chuckle if he heard a funny joke on television, but as for genuine bone-deep laughter? This was definitely the first.

She just marveled at the site. His sharp teeth fully on display; his deep red eyes closed tight, crinkling at the edges in his mirth; and if she looked closely, she could see tears forming in the corners because he was laughing so hard.

He looked so natural and carefree. Like he didn't have the world's biggest chip on his shoulder. Like he wasn't worrying about how he looked or presented in front of others.

He looked…happy.

"Hey, what's with that look on your face?" his voice drew her out of her musings. He was trying to glare at her, but it was offset by his still present grin, "If you think I look bad, you should see yourself, nerdbrain."

Maka stuck her tongue out at him, "I wasn't staring!" (She ignored how unconvincing that sounded.), "I was just thinking about what a pain this was going to be to clean up, is all!"

Soul sighed, rolling onto his back again before cringing as more of the smoothie substance seeped into his shirt. "Yeah, that's gonna suck… Well, I'll let you take care of it. I'm gonna hop in the shower."

Maka gave an indignant noise, "Oh no you don't! You're the one who caused the mess, I get the shower while you clean up!"

"It wasn't my idea to make the smoothies!" he shot back.

"Well, I'm a lady and ladies go first!"

Soul snorted, "Funny, I thought 'ladies' had more sex appeal—"

"MAKA CHOP!"

"OUCH!"

While Soul nursed his aching head, Maka used the opportunity to run to the bathroom. "I'll help once I'm done showering. Then you can shower and I'll finish what you started!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever…" she heard him grumble as she grabbed some clean clothes and shut the door.

As she peeled off her stained clothing, she thought she heard more of his distinct laughter from his place in the kitchen. She felt herself smile.

It may take some time, but she felt hopeful that she could crack the sturdy exterior that was Soul's metaphorical walls.

Hopefully it wouldn't take too many mistakes and messes for that to happen…

#soma #soul x maka #soulxmakaweek #somaweek #somaweek2020 #soul eater evans #maka albarn #soul eater #my writing

36 notes · View notes

the-overgrowth · 4 years ago

Text

Retrospective: “Faybane” #1

This is where it all started, on July 8th, 2016. Although probably a bit earlier than that, but this is the earliest thing I can find that’s actually written down, so that’s what counts. And back in the day I didn’t let ideas marinate the way I do now, I just started writing pretty much as soon as I got the idea.

Anyway, the document was created at this point in time according to Google Docs, and was last modified in October 3rd, 2016. It’s only 3 chapters long, plus one incomplete fourth chapter, and the whole thing is about 17k words.

Which is a lot for 3 chapters. I would say something about how I’m less wordy now, but the latest draft is like 107k words long, so, like, I will always struggle with shutting the fuck up, methinks.

Also, the reason this is called “Faybane” is because that was the working title I used, and the name of this document. I thought it’d be the proper title but like. It’s bad lmao.

Anywhomst, let’s get into it!

Some background info for those who are new or need a refresher: this WIP became a thing after I read and was disappointed by A Court of Thorns and Roses by SJM, as well as The Iron King by Julie Kagawa and some book by Holly Black, was it Tithe?

ACOTAR was the biggest culprit. I feel that this is important to keep in mind as we go through this mess.

We open on Sidra in the forest with a bunch of men she calls a hunting party. It’s clear she doesn’t want to be there, but since she’s the only decent hunter among them and it’s her sister’s wedding today, she has to make the kill to feed the people attending said wedding.

This is, as the kids say, big stupid, and seems like a very ill-prepared celebration? I guess it makes some sense for them to want fresh meat, but this fresh? What if they didn’t find anything? What if they didn’t manage to kill anything? Is the whole thing cancelled? Stupid.

We find out they’ve been hunting a boar and that this dude named Liam, our Gaston replacement, previously wounded the animal but didn’t kill it, causing it to flee and force the hunting party to follow. It’s up to Sidra to make the killing blow, which she does with an arrow straight into its head. This was back when Sidra was still YA Heroine Extraordinaire and the time period was Vaguely Medieval, I guess.

They begin taking their quarry back home and Sidra thinks about how she normally doesn’t hunt this close to the “Faewilds” because animals closer to the border are said to be bigger and more violent. There isn’t an actual border, people just had to rely on intuition and not wander too far into the forest.

She also mentions a girl named Wilda, who disappeared fairly recently and everyone suspects it was the fae. This isn’t relevant now, but Wilda will return in later drafts, I think.

Everybody, especially my family, knew that I was one of the best archers in town, whether I used a bow or a crossbow.

Shut up, Not!Feyre. Nobody likes you.

I should mention that at this point I didn’t bother googling how big wild boars get and just assumed they were the size of like, a thick medium dog. Which is, if you know how big boars are, very incorrect. Four men pulling the animal seems realistic enough, but then Liam just lifts it up on his own? Not buying it.

Sidra laments how much she hates Liam and we find out that he apparently tried to assault her and she stabbed him? And apparently she’s not happy about his marriage to Sinéad but can’t do anything about it because “Father’s word is law” and Sinéad herself laughed it off when Sidra tried to warn her?

Yeah, gonna call bullshit on that one. No idea why this was here or what purpose it serves, the reason Liam doesn’t exist in the latest draft is because I never figured out what his purpose was so I axed him entirely.

Current!Sidra would just kill him the moment he showed an interest in Sinéad, and Current!Sinéad would 100% believe her sister about something like that.

Some bloke named Connor strikes up a conversation with Sidra, seemingly worried about being this far away from human civilization. Liam teases him about it and calls the fae “knife-ears”, because I still had brainrot back then and liked Dragon Age and had zero original ideas in my head.

The men make jokes about having sex with fae women and Sidra seems so disturbed by this that she nocks an arrow. This isn’t the first time she makes references to feeling unsafe around these men, I have no idea why I wrote it this way aside from being edgy, I guess.

My village was mostly populated by men, and even though I wasn’t one of the pretty girls there, I knew these men weren’t picky, even with all their talk about beautiful fae women. I’d heard that fae women would kill their men after sleeping with them. I had no way of know it was true, but a part of me hoped it was and that Liam would some day soon get “lucky” and encounter a female fae, so she could end his misery.

Edgy, dude.

They eventually arrive and Sidra goes inside her house, which is a simple cottage with three rooms. I think her family are all farmers? It’s kind of confusing. She goes into her and Sinéad’s bedroom, where Sinéad is preparing for her wedding. Also, she’s blonde.

“Sid! There you are!” she said cheerily. “Killed a boar, huh? Good on Liam for taking all the credit.”

If you know your man is trash, why are you marrying him?

Apparently Liam seduced Sinéad with sweets and baked goods. I mean ... fair enough. Considering how Sidra complains about being hungry and skinny and going without food if she doesn’t kill the boar because this year’s harvest was minimal, I’m assuming y’all are starving.

We find out Sinéad’s mother doesn’t let her do anything around the house or farm, to preserve her “soft and white” hands and pale complexion so she could be married off easily. This makes zero sense, you’d think these medieval men wouldn’t have the same beauty standards as Victorian England, plus having a mouth to feed that doesn’t even help feeding itself is just nuts.

But remember, this isn’t Sidra, this is Not!Feyre. She needs to be sad and put-upon and a victim. She explains how she was never pretty to begin with and thus nobody considered her to be worthy of marrying off, which then meant she was put to work and became even less attractive because now she was so cool and badass that all the men were intimidated by her.

Yeah, in a village that already doesn’t have a lot of young women? I’m not buying this, lmao. But go off, Not!Feyre.

I’d been the one helping around, instead. Hunting, mostly. Sometimes I’d chop wood or work the farm. Marrying out of the house seemed impossible. Marrying up was practically a dream you forgot upon waking. Had I been pretty from the start there would’ve been a foundation to work from, but I was a lost cause even before my skin became tan and my hands grew veined and calloused. I had freckles which people mistook for mud and dull brown eyes, a long nose that had been broken one time too many and a mouth that made it look like I constantly felt a bad smell no matter what facial expression I made. I’d always been of rather short stature and had brown hair and thick eyebrows, which in combination with everything else made my parents call me their “little goblin”. The scar on my face didn’t help me either: men didn’t like it when their women were more battle-hardened than they were.

Oh god please, don’t go off! We don’t care! Stop going off!

Also what fucking parents call their poor kid a goblin? Yikes.

Sinéad convinces Sidra to get prettied up and Sidra is all “oh I bet all the men will just fall over themselves for my favor now huh” which is just the most annoying fucking thing, prompting Sinéad to respond:

“Well, winter is coming and game is scarce. If they want to survive, marrying the best hunter in the village might be a good bet.”

Yeah! This is correct! I refuse to believe people wouldn’t be into Sidra! Not only does everyone apparently know she’s the best hunter in town, but Sidra herself confirmed the men here outnumber the women and aren’t very picky.

This is fucking stupid. I’m glad I axed it. In my defense, I was very much trying to emulate the YA shit I’d read so far.

Sidra’s grandmother enters the stage. She’s very old in this draft, but otherwise unchanged.

She was a short and wrinkled old lady with extremely bad vision and an even worse grasp on reality. Or maybe an extremely acute grasp on reality, depending on whether you believed her stories or not.

Sidra changes out of the dress again to go out and help her father prepare the boar, all while sulking.

I didn’t envy Sinead, nor any other bride. Despite what most people thought of me, I wasn’t some poor ugly girl longing for the love of a man and the security of marriage. Did I enjoy the idea of having somebody care for me? Sure. But it wasn’t on my list of priorities. I was still trying to figure out what actually was on that list. Not that it mattered. The prospects for a poor village girl were very finite.

Womp womp.

We get some confusing and barely related stuff about Sidra possibly becoming a royal hunter for the king and also about where the village is located in relation to the Faewilds. She speculates that maybe the fae aren’t real, but the way she and everyone else talks about them makes it pretty obvious that they are? This was supposed to build mystery, I guess.

We skip forward to the wedding and Sidra is moping again.

“How are you feeling?” Father asked and squeezed my shoulder.

I wasn’t sure why he was doing that. I assumed it had something to do with the wedding and the fact that despite there being fewer women than men here, I was still not asked to dance. Though this didn’t really bother me, so I just shrugged.

“It doesn’t bother me. Anyway I will continue to mope and feel bitter about this thing that doesn’t bother me.” Hunny ...

At least Current!Sidra has the self-awareness to admit she’s sad and lonely.

[Father’s] marriage to Sinead’s mother was never out of love, more out of necessity. It was easier when you had a big family.

Except for when this “big family” is 3 people who work and 2 people who are just being fed, right? See, I knew back then that having a big family helps when you have a farm, but I also needed to make Sidra Special so Sinéad had to sit on her ass to highlight how pretty and feminine she was or whatnot.

Bleh.

They talk a bit about Sidra’s mother, who passed away five years ago, and Sidra reminisces about how she used to tell amazing stories. It’s all very ... whatever, and serves only to make this point for the hundredth time:

I wasn’t like Mother. I wasn’t full of life and spirit like her. I wasn’t loved and respected by the entire village like her. I was just her disappointing child whose existence they’d rather forget except when they wanted something killed.

Right after this there’s a really abrupt scene transition. Nothing about the wedding coming to an end, nothing about her going to bed, it’s just ... some while later?

Sidra’s father comes back home from ??? and tells Sidra he saw a stag somewhere, but it was hours ago so she better get a move on.

I’m not sure what either of them thinks this will accomplish? Like ... what is she gonna do with it when she kills it ... Carry it home? On her little boney ass? Hmm? I guess I didn’t think of that because I had meta knowledge that she wouldn’t get it home either way, so who cares about logic, right?

Sidra kills two rabbits while stalking the deer, and despite telling us earlier that she doesn’t venture far away from human civilization and the boar hunting being the farthest she’d been and that she wouldn’t go this far alone, she has no issue dwelling very deep into the forest this time.

Like. Henlo? Can we have one logic please and thanks you? Granted, she keeps stopping every now and then to Feel Things Out, but this really goes against how careful she was before and at no point do we get an explanation to her sudden boldness. Plot reasons, I guess.

She nearly stumbles into fae territories and finally decides to head back, except when she starts returning, she sees the stag she’s been tracking. It’s abnormally huge and has a “dark brown” coat that she finds odd, but of course she’s too stupid to connect the dots.

She sneaks up on it and honestly? This chapter ending still slaps.

A scream of pain left the creature and I saw it topple. But though my arrow hit a deer, a man fell to the ground.

DUN DUN DUN.

And yeah, the ACOTAR roots rear their ugly heads again. I liked the idea of the protagonist shooting a fae disguised as an animal, but I decided to cut out the middleman and just have her obliterate Val right in chapter one. Don’t worry, he doesn’t die.

#retrospective #my writing

5 notes · View notes