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9tzuyu · 3 years

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the ties that bind us

note: this is just a vent, i’m not sure how much sense it’ll make. but it’s based on this post (just pretend this fic makes sense because it was really just a loose idea that got carried away.)

in other words: you’re talking to natasha without her knowing its you.

im begging you to be nice jsjddjdj this is probably cringey idk. mostly posting this for myself. i hope at least one person likes it though, idk.

i wont tag on this fic simply because its a vent :P dont wanna trigger anyone.

warnings: talks of eating disorders & depression. there’s a minor mention of self harm (brief description of scratching, nothing more).

thank u moli for proofreading i love uuuuu

. . .

natasha romanoff was one of the last avengers people would expect to have social media. everyone knew her to be an insanely private person, so the fact that she managed something so public was a stark contrast to their beliefs.

she didn’t post much, didn’t see much of a point in posting really. sometimes the spy would reply to fans, sometimes like their posts, and other times stalk their pages. that only happened once every few months though as social media was the last thing natasha worried about.

the most recent change in natasha’s life had been a new addition to the avengers.

you.

she hardly ever acknowledged your existence, let alone speak to you. for reasons unknown, natasha wasn’t too keen on getting to know you.

which, in a way, crushed your soul.

you’d looked up to the ex-assassin since before you were recruited. it was amazing to you how someone just a few years older than you could stand so strong, so put together, almost unbreakable.

since day one natasha underestimated your skillset and ability to function as part of the team. after a while, her lack of trust began to irritate you, but you managed to hold on to a sliver of hope that she’d someday let you in her little circle.

for now, as embarrassing as it was, you ran a small twitter account for the redhead. you already had a list of insecurities, it might actually kill you if anyone found out. your paranoia was what made you so protective of everything you did, touched, and left behind.

first thing in the morning you woke up dizzy, heart pounding in your throat, and your stomach hurt from being on over 40 hours of emptiness. then you’d gotten your ass chewed out by fury in front of the entire team for being reckless on a mission. everyone ignored you for a good bit of the day, too overwhelmed with disappointment towards your actions to speak to you.

lunch was an easy slip, but dinner was hard to get out of. you tried to go straight to your room but steve began to interrogate you as to why you weren’t having anything. you could feel natasha’s eyes burning in the back of your head with each question the super-soldier asked. nonetheless, you blamed your lie on a wave of nausea and made your way into your room.

after changing into baggy sweats and a t-shirt you plugged in your phone, ready to be done for the day.

you were half asleep when a blue notification lit across your phone screen.

8:06pm

natasha romanoff: i hate romcoms.

her tweet was very random, but very much natasha – punctual, straight to the point.

replies, likes, retweets and quote tweets quickly began to build upon each other in response to the statement. you fumbled, desperately trying to think of something to reply with.

8:07pm

alianovna: do you like horror movies?

of course you knew this, and you were sure people were flooding her mentions with the very same question, but it was worth a shot.

unexpectedly, natasha replied to you two minutes later.

8:09pm

natasha romanoff: love them.

your mutuals were freaking out, congratulating your notice. you’d be more excited had you not already known natasha and how she acted towards you.

but at least you could still pretend.

your fingers scrambled to type out false reactions. keyboard smashes and unreadable tweets filled your timeline. fifteen or so minutes later and a request notification appeared in your direct messages.

to your utmost surprise, it was natasha. you did a double check, switching between the profile and the message to see if it was really her. and it was. but surely she didn’t dm fans often, that’s not like the redhead at all.

8:24pm

natasha: read through some of your tweets, i’m sorry you’re having a hard time.

you’d completely forgotten about your little rant a few days prior. you didn’t have a lot of followers, so you didn’t think it mattered. just having a place to vent anonymously was more than enough.

natasha’s message had you stuck though. the very same woman who ignored your existence on a daily basis was now reaching out to you – well, a fake version of yourself.

8:25pm

alianovna: it’s alright.

five seconds later three little dots popped up on your screen, causing your eyebrows to pull together in confusion. why was she so quick to reply?

8:25pm

natasha: are you feeling any better?

alianovna: i’m as good as i can be.

8:26pm

alianovna: sorry i don’t mean to be rude, but why are you dming me? i’m sure there are so many other fans who have told you about worse situations.

natasha: call it a gut instinct.

you didn’t reply to her message after that, too unsure of what to say.

the ring of your alarm woke you up early the next morning. it was 4am and you were on a tight schedule. you reluctantly got up, body aching with every movement, and tiptoed into the kitchen.

you were up at an hour where no one else would be awake, which made preparing breakfast a lot less anxiety-ridden.

carefully, you sliced an apple and a few strawberries and placed them into a glass bowl. you were careful not to fill the dish to the top in fear of consuming too much.

unbeknownst to you, natasha watched your movements from afar, eyeing the tiny portions you made for yourself. she also noted the amount of distress you’d been in while you sat down to eat, it wasn’t normal.

the redhead had long since suspected something wrong with your relationship with food for a while now. watching your struggle only confirmed her assumption. a pang of guilt shot through her chest knowing she could’ve been a more supportive teammate. maybe that’s why she randomly decided to direct message a fan, to make up for her lack of encouragement on her behalf.

she left before you could see her.

. . .

the next few weeks were pretty routine. you’d be sent on small missions, come back to train (or in other words burn as many calories as you could), and occasionally hang out with whoever was around the compound.

oh, and natasha? you continued to anonymously text her, finding yourself growing more and more attached to the distant woman.

you’d tell her about how depressed you felt, how much you craved the touch of someone else – even if it was just a hug. when you’d tweet about something bothering you, natasha messaged you as soon as she could. and from what you could tell she hadn’t caught on.

the only thing that changed in the redhead was that she began to watch you more, increasing your discomfort around her.

today had been particularly rough for you, and you weren’t really sure why. no one scolded you for doing anything wrong thing, nor did they overload you with useless paperwork that took you hours to finish.

it was a relatively normal day.

but the frustration of dealing with your disordered thoughts seemed to be a bit higher than usual. you’d already snuck in your day's worth of exercise, and you kept your calorie intake lower than the day before – it just wasn’t enough.

not wanting to anonymously bother natasha, you went to your only other (somewhat) safety option.

10:08pm

alianovna: i wish i didn’t feel so alone.

you only had about 250 followers, so it didn’t really matter that you tweeted such a sad message because you already knew no one would reply. no one wanted to deal with it, mutual or not.

10:08pm

alianovna: the one person i thought i might be able to talk to literally hates me.

you added on to your thread.

alianovna: just having someone’s company would be enough. they wouldn’t even have to say anything. i just need someone. i can’t keep doing this on my own.

alianovna: i’m so sad, my heart hurts.

you slammed your phone against your bed, curling yourself in a ball. tear tracks were evident on your face as you began to think about everything you weren’t.

maybe if you pushed yourself a little harder.

maybe if you spoke a little louder.

maybe if you were an entirely different person – maybe then someone might like you.

your shitty coping mechanisms only reflected how you felt on the inside, not that anyone would ever find out though. you kept your guard as high as you could, which only ever resulted in complete isolation.

a ding came from your phone and you immediately knew who it was.

10:17pm

natasha: hey, what’s going on?

“oh fuck you,” you mumbled, too pissed off about the fact that you’d never really be able to talk to her.

you were angry. angry at the world. angry at natasha. angry at your team. and most importantly, angry at yourself.

10:41pm

natasha: please answer me.

seeing the urgency of her text to an anonymous fan only pushed your state of loneliness further into your mind.

and your lungs.

and your heart.

and oh my god, you couldn’t breathe.

your fingernails began clawing against your collarbones as a desperate attempt to try and ground yourself.

10:51pm

natasha: i hope you’re okay. i’m worried.

but that was just it – natasha didn’t care if you were okay, and she wasn’t actually worried about you.

10:51pm

natasha: it’s easier if you reply to me rather than have me hunt you down.

shit shit shit shit shit.

wincing at your raw, sticky skin, you looked down to find a light amount of blood on your fingernails.

“there goes peaceful showers,” you whispered. “fuck, how do i even reply? i fucking hate you, natasha.”

a lie.

you don’t think you could ever truly hate natasha. she didn’t even do anything wrong. what you hated, was how your expectations were met with resilience and insularity.

nonetheless, you shoved your emotions down once again and began to type.

11:03pm

alianovna: i’m fine. and for the sake of my own privacy don’t look for me. or track me down. or whatever you do as an avenger.

natasha: just please don’t ever do that again. i was so scared you’d done something you’d regret.

natasha: so are you ready to tell me what’s going on?

11:11pm

alianovna: doesn’t matter. goodnight natasha.

throwing on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, you shut your phone completely off and grabbed your keys. you weren’t sure who was up, most likely tony or bruce, but they’d both be distracted by whatever their latest project was.

you were doing fine until you bumped into someone. apologies almost began to slip from your mouth until you realized it was natasha. so instead of saying sorry, you shoved past her without another word.

natasha stood speechless at your behavior. yeah, she wasn’t one to talk to you despite how nice you continued to be, but she knew it wasn’t normal for you to shove her.

then she remembered the state of your wellbeing. your eyes were red and tired underneath, a clear indicator that you’d been crying.

she tried to catch up to you, but by the time she made it out, you were already gone. seeing you so upset didn’t sit right with her at all.

waiting for you was the right thing to do, natasha knew that.

you weren’t really sure where you were going until you pulled into the back of a hotel parking lot. it felt almost impossible to feel more alone than you did right now. you slammed your head against the tip of the steering wheel, not caring whether or not a honk disrupted the silence of those around you.

one thing you were sure of was that you didn’t want to go back to the compound, not right now at least. the urge to text natasha was almost overpowering, but every time you remembered how little she regarded your presence the desire vanished instantly.

too much was already crowding your mind and thinking about natasha only made things worse. so you put your car in reverse and sped off in a hurry.

natasha began to worry more each hour that passed, not only about her friend online, but about you as well. she backtracked your behavior as much as she could.

until something clicked.

she realized just how alike you and her online fan were. it couldn’t have been a coincidence that at the very same time she’d lost contact with her distraught fan, you were upset as well. natasha also remembered how unusually protective you were over your phone, never once letting anyone else lay a finger on it.

you’d even vented to her a bit about your food troubles, but she never thought too much of it because millions of people struggled with eating disorders.

on top of that, she always thought it was a little odd that her ‘fan’ never gave away their name. her assumption was out of privacy, but that obviously wasn’t the case.

and your tweets, specifically the one about someone hating you, there was no doubt that was a jab at her.

it made sense though. it was easier for you to talk to her as long as she didn’t know it was you.

natasha felt awful. you were struggling so openly and yet no one else could see it except for her, and she didn’t say a word about it.

the clock read 2:33am when you came back. it’d been the longest three hours natasha ever had to endure.

you came back to see the redhead sitting on your bed. natasha glanced up from her phone and lunged herself in your direction. she cupped your face, worried eyes scanning over your body for any signs of injury.

“you left…”

“i’m a free person.”

you moved to take off your hoodie, trading it in for a tank top.

“what happened to your collarbones?” your harsh glare met natasha’s green eyes. “that’s none of your concern.”

she swallowed, carefully trying not to startle you. “i think we should talk.”

“and i think you should get out of my room.” you snapped, turning your phone back on after hours of being shut off.

“did you not hear me? get out.” she winced at your tone of voice. “i don’t think you really want that.”

“seriously, get-”

“i know it’s you. alianovna? it’s you isn’t it?”

“if you’re so sure, then why are you asking me?” natasha kept quiet, eyes still firmly trained on you.

you could feel the lump in your throat begin to rise; and although you tried you hide it, your lip began to quiver. “please. please leave. please natasha,” you begged, voice cracking with shame.

“no.” she paused. “that’s not what you truly want.”

“you don’t even fucking care!”

natasha closed her eyes, trying to remain calm and collected. “but i do-”

“no, you don’t. you care about a version of myself that isn’t even fucking real. you don’t care about me. and that’s fine, i’m used to it by now. but don’t come in here to try and save your ass because you have a guilty conscience.”

she crossed her arms. “i’m not leaving this room.”

“well move so i can lay down. i’m tired.”

you weren’t sure why you were pushing natasha so far away when you’d been craving her comfort for months. perhaps it was because your secret had been exposed, maybe even because you felt like it was too good to be true. either way, your emotions were involuntarily controlling your choice of words.

natasha complied, watching you adjust yourself comfortably. she bit her lip, nervous to ask for such a risky request.

“can i hold you?”

touch, warmth, security, that’s all you ever wanted. and natasha knew how much you craved the comfort of someone else. that was her ticket in to make up for all that she ignored.

“i just cursed you out and now you’re asking to hold me?” your voice gave out at the end of your question.

“having someone’s company would be enough. they wouldnt even have to say anything. i just need someone.” she finished reading your tweet, vivid from her memory. “that’s what you said, right? i wasn’t there for you then, so if you’ll let me i’d like to be here for you now.”

“just don’t hog the covers.”

natasha smiled, relieved that you accepted her offer. she draped her left arm over your body while her right arm lay beneath your neck. a moment later she clasped her hand over yours, rubbing her thumb across your knuckles.

“why didn’t you ever give me a chance?” natasha’s finger movement briefly stopped. “i don’t know. i think i just became overwhelmed by the idea of someone else living here. i got so comfortable with how things were that, i dont know- it felt too much.”

natasha unconsciously pulled you in closer and for once, you felt a little less alone. she was warm, and her hold was more than protective.

“it doesn’t make it right, i know that. but i am sorry, and im not here just cause i have a guilty conscience.”

“how did you know it was me? i never let anyone near my phone.” she giggled, not revealing the loose pieces to your mystery. “call it a gut instinct.”

natasha placed her chin in the nape of your neck, closing her eyes as she squeezed you gently.

a hug.

one you’d been wishing for since the day you met her.

“you know all my secrets.”

“i know all your secrets,” she confirmed.

“and you’re not going to leave me alone now, are you?”

“i’m not going to leave you alone.”

“which means i have to get help now, don’t i?”

“which means you have to get help now,” she repeated, holding your hand a little tighter. “but it will be okay.”

but things already felt okay around natasha.

“no. it will be better.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader

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kaypeace21 · 3 years

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Analyzing the clothes in stranger things (narrative analysis)

*most of these details are quotes directly from the costume designers Amy Parris, kim wilcox, and others working on st. And a few details i will mention a lot of other fans have already noticed. Along with some clothing details I spotted myself and or my personal insights from specific clothing choices others or myself spotted.

Clothes reflects the Byers’ poverty (and at times is used to highlight their socioeconomic differences with the wheelers)

The show's costume designer, Kim Wilcox, explained to Yahoo TV that the ghost busters costumes were a bit of a socio-economic signifier.

"Will’s suit was actually built from scratch, whereas the other ones are different kinds of flight or mechanic suits that we were able to find out in the world.Will’s is my favorite because it’s a little big on him and kind of droopy. We thought about how these boys and their moms would have come up with these costumes. Some of the wealthier moms might have been able to go and buy a little suit to trick out, but Joyce doesn’t have the money to do that. Her family just kind of gets by with her one salary; most of their clothes come from the thrift store, or they rewear stuff they’ve had for years and years and years. We love the scene where she is hand-sewing the little Ghostbusters logo onto the costume that she’s made. Joyce has sewn on the Ghostbusters emblem, but you can see it’s a little bit messy, which makes sense for Joyce too. I like that about that costume."

Paris (joyce vs Karen's wardrobes): "Mrs. Wheeler can afford to be seen in a different outfit every time she appears, with many changing hairstyles and lipstick colors.Joyce on the other hand, who's a single mother and has to pinch her pennies with two sons, is often seen wearing the same pieces of clothing day after day. She may even be seen in some of the clothing from her eldest son's closet because she can't afford to buy things for herself"

Paris (about Will's clothes in s3) " Will has ill fitting shirts to show that he's growing out of some pieces that mom Joyce doesn't have the budget to replace or hand-me-downs from older brother Jonathan."

Byers’ hair: "Hindsgaul (hair stylist) and Ryder opted to have Joyce's hair a bit longer in s3 , as a reflection of just how much taking care of things like a haircut isn't top of mind for her right now.That woman has given up," Hindsgaul says. "She's just shoving her pain off." She also points out that the whole Byers family is all rocking a very similar cut with all of their bangs, which is a real contrast to Wheeler household where everyone is very "done." "When we first met her in season one, she pretty right on with the ’80s with a little bit of a mullet feel to it [her hair]," she says. "But now she doesn't even realize. She can't focus on stuff like that because she's been through so much." Her thinking? Joyce would trim up the front purely out of necessity so she could see—and not bother so much with the rest."

These contrasts between the families reminds me of how in s3 Jonathan's car is about to break down and it can’t even go past a certain speed limit (but jonathan just jokes he's lucky it even moves) . But in the same season, nancy drives her brand new 1985 -model- car and cares so little she crashes it into bikes and doesn't even bother to check for damage.

There is also a little clothing detail I noticed (that’s another contrast between the Byers and Wheelers) . In s1 we see Ted help Mike put on a tie mentioning to Mike it has to be a “little tight”. And right after this scene: we see Jonathan struggle to put on a tie (and then ripping it off in frustration-signifying his lack of a father figure that could have taught him how to do this when younger). So in s3 we see Jonathan’s ties are always poorly done and slightly loose around his neck. The same season Jonathan comments about how Nancy’s dad makes 6 figures and his dad “isn’t even around”.

El & Hopper sharing clothes illustrates their bond

I've mentioned this in a past post (and i’m sure many others noticed as well). But there is 1 plaid shirt el wears that popped up 3 times in the show. In s2 we see hopper pat her on the head while wearing a tan flannel, and later in s2 she hugs it when thinking about him and missing him. And of course in s3 she wears this at the end of s3 in order to feel close to him (after his perceived 'death'). We also saw in s1/s2 flashbacks el wearing Hopper's blue plaid shirt.

Then we have the blue bracelet. This was originally Sarah's hair tie which hopper wore on his wrist throughout s1-2. But he gives this bracelet to her in the last ep of s2 to signify he accepts her as his daughter (which she continues to wear in s3). Before Hopper's death we see them hold hands and the bracelet surrounds both their wrists .

Max also giving El a scrunchie may be foreshadowing of her future arc? (my theory)

We know Hopper at the end of s2 gave El his (daughter’s) old blue hair tie after he got adoption papers for her. Signifying he thought of her as his daughter/family now. I wonder if max at the end of s3 giving El her green hairtie has a similar meaning ? Like she’s family to her now?

Both hair tie scenes are subtle and not even vocally brought up to the audience. We’re just supposed to notice and come to our own conclusions.Curious what it’ll mean going forward and the possible narrative implications.

It could also possibly hint at Max paralleling Hopper in the future. Both characters give El a hairtie, after the d*ath of a family member. Maybe Max (like Hopper) won’t cope well with the loss/de*th of a family member initially?She was awfully down in her last scene of s3 ( during Hopper’s speech). :(

(My Theory) Mike's s3 clothes matching his parents reflects he's trying to emulate their dysfunctional marriage - in relation to his romance with el.

(This is a detail the costume designers never mentioned )

We already see how el's shirts connect back to hopper -and illustrates their connection (or Jonathan and Joyce sharing shirts reflects their poverty). So what about the fact that in s3 we see during his relationship with el- he wears shirts that resembles both ted and Karen's ?

Specifically when the costume designers made Mike's wardrobe in their words “ more mature/adult” in season 3 to reflect Mike’s desire to become more mature . I believe the adult clothes he's wearing reflects his desire to mimic the 'conventional' ( and loveless) romance of his parents. Which is why he's wearing shirts from both of them.

Ted/karen are in a loveless marriage and as nancy said "never loved eachother'. But it was a marriage that was done because it was viewed as the logical choice and something that would look good to outside viewers. I believe every wheeler- karen, nancy, and Mike made the mistake of trying to be with the conventional romantic option (regardless of love). We are told karen got with ted because he "had money and was from a good family" (he was also an ex jock). nancy tries to avoid doing what her mother did- but initially she gets with Steve the conventional choice- rich, jock, and popular (despite not loving him). And Jonathan says being with Steve would be her making the same mistake as karen. However unlike nancy who is aware of the obvious fact her parents don't love eachother and who tried to avoid the same fate. Mike seems to want to emulate his parents dynamic thinking that it is "normal" or "love". In s1, Mike tells el to sit in the laz-e-boy chair ted sleeps in (and even tells El with a smile “you like that? that’s where my dad sleeps.” (And in s3 the lyric 'i should have walked away ' plays as karen stares sadly at ted sleeping in the chair, regretting her predicament of being married to him). After fighting with el Mike says 2x "what did I do wrong?" Emulating how ted after fighting with karen says 2x "what did I do?" Also, Similar to stancy- which is paralleled to karen/ted- mileven is called "bullshit" (aka not in love). We also see how Mike is using the perspective of his parents marriage to guide his romantic choices. He tells Will (while wearing the yellow shirt) he has to get a girlfriend because they're ‘NOT KIDS ANYMORE" and that getting a gf is a part of growing up (and they aren't allowed to just never get gfs and live together as old men). Then when talking to el he tries using the "crazy" (romantic) line he initially used on Will . But when El doesn't understand and he can't describe his supposed feelings for her he just says "blank" (love) is " SOMETHING OLD PEOPLE SAY". Showing he views 'love' with el (at least subconsciously) as something like his parents loveless marriage- its just what old people say. Its an act -a lie (to keep up social appearances and look good to others).Notice during the store scene (where the confession takes place) he never actually apologizes for lying to her-because his romantic confession is also a lie. He perceives his dynamic with El (at least subconsciously) to being similar to his parents. Mike even says women-specifically El ‘think with EMOTION, NOT LOGIC’ showing he doesn’t perceive his romantic relationship with el as something based on emotion but just the ‘LOGICAL CHOICE’ (and a part of becoming an adult-similar to his parents).

Mike says after not apologizing for lying he has a (romantic) “feeling” a(love for) her- but again el called him out for lying about his “feelings” previously. It’s all lies.

He thinks he has to have a gf/wife in the future (not only to look good). But, cause he views that as normal and the only “logical option” (and a part of growing up). And that somehow just ‘saying you’re in love and faking it’ like his parents is- how adults ’love’ .

We also see when wearing the blue shirt he claims in the pool shed el is "the most important thing " to him (which el ignores). In contrast to this, Mike in s2 tells Will in the byers-shed asking for Will to be in his life was "the best thing he's ever done."

Its also important to point out- what karen and ted were doing in the scenes with the yellow and blue shirt. ted in his blue shirt tells karen "well there's someone for everyone " (and puts an arm around karen) and karen sighs miserable she's married to him. And in a similar blue shirt Mike tries to get back together with el- the pool shed/ hospital scene. And El implies Mike should stick with his “own species” (guys).While karen in her yellow shirt says “people tell you, you shouldn’t , you can’t”. And Mike wears almost the same yellow shirt . And then he says to Will they can't be together for the rest of their lives (and never get girlfriends). Cause obviously people would say that they “shouldn’t” and “can’t”. Heck Karen in s3 is stuck in a romantic relationship where she’s faking attraction to her partner-while she’s secretly into a guy named William . Wonder how that parallels to Mike???

I also talked about how the shirt Joyce and Jonathan share also reflects not only their poverty but their issues with romance, as well- here.

Lucas' bandana , California inspired look,and karate kid attire

S3 had lucas' style be more heavily styled by cali/Beach fashion according to Paris (to reflect him dating Max) . She also states Lucas wore a shirt that says in Japanese "karate kid" - because Lucas ' is aware of max's crush on Ralph machio (the karate kid). While his bandanna is supposed to be his dad's - from the Vietnam War.

Hopper's clothing evolution is supposed to reflect him slowly working 'outside the law'.

"When we first see Chief Jim Hopper, he's clad in the tan uniform of a lawman, which Kimberly Adams based on Chief Martin Brody from both Jaws films. In Season 3, he's long since eschewed his officer's getup, since he's been taking some time away from the force, and favors Hawaiian shirts in the vein of an '80s icon, Magnum P.I. This reflects his transformation from of the law to very firmly outside of it, which is a progression that's been happening the entire series."

Nancy going from her s2 preppy look to her more bold colorful outfits of s3 was supposed to reflect how dating jonathan has influenced her style (+ other Nancy easterggs)

(similar to Max influencing Lucas’ style).Paris states Nancy used to dress preppy similar to 'Molly ringwold' when dating Steve . But later when dating jonathan she takes fashion inspiration from "new age" music - which jonathan is a fan of.

El wanting to look “pretty” in s1 had NOTHING to do with crushing on boys (my theory)

In s1 El is compared to Mike’s “sister” and “cousin” by Lucas/dustin. El even asks Mike if he’d “be like (her) brother.” In s2 Mike and El are even compared to luke/leia siblings who kissed (via Mike saying it’s a trap to El ). One thing I never hear people mention is how El wanted/wants to be like Nancy. Nancy in s1-2 wore a ballet slipper necklace .We then see El in s1 get emotional looking at a ballet box in Nancy’s room to make this connection. She wanted to be Like Nancy . We see in s1 el call Nancy “pretty”/later El calls herself “pretty” when wearing Nancy’s dress. She didn’t want mike to think she was “pretty” cause she was into him. she wanted to be “pretty” in order to be like Nancy (who had what she thought was a normal life she was deprived of).El just wanted to be ‘normal’ !(And subconsciously a sibling to Mike).

El in s2 even calls the teddy bear (her mom intended for her) as “pretty”. Her wandering around the room that would have been hers if Brenner didn’t take her-is a direct parallel to her being emotional in Nancy’s room (and seeing what she nevef had).

This is why she cries and calls Billy’s mom “PRETTY” (while describing her attire-like her dress) . Cause El knows what it’s like to have a maternal figure stripped from you- similar to Billy.

Robin's sneakers (that she wears all season) hint that she's gay

This was mostly maya's doing but she drew bo*bs/n*ked women on her sneakers and wrote “won't go down in history but i will go down on your sister” . Also she just wrote on the shoes the word "t*ddies'. Pfft Maya .

El’s other s3 clothes (showing possible narrative connections to Will & Robin):

Am I the only one who found it interesting that in s3 we see Will took up painting (we see paint in castle byers) and El wears a shirt with (purposeful)paint splotches on it. We see both of them paint in the 004 teaser

And a bit random but El also wears a red raincoat, like robin who wears one when holding hands with her (straight-bait) love interest Steve. Cough the stobin and m*leven confession parallels in s3-talked about that here.

Dustin's clothes reflects his love of science and other interests

Wilcox (for s2): "subtle changes will evolve as each character matures, like Dustin's delightfully dorky graphic tops, which include a brontosaurus hoodie and a bright yellow periodic table T-shirt." He's our little science geek, but he is growing up," says Wilcox, explaining the custom-built ode to chemistry. "So we thought it would be fun to continue that, but maybe get a little bit more into the science in his head."

"For s3 , so-called 'nerds' gravitated toward Weird Al and his music, so it seemed fitting that Dustin would wear that t-shirt," explains Parris. "To complement that, we gave him the cassette tape shirt because he's starting to get into music."

so maybe the theatre shirt from s1 is foreshadowing for s4?

Max's clothes reflects being from california/ being a tomboy

"Max (Sadie Sink) in s2 prefers sporty hoodies and zip-up track jackets, based on popular '80s beach-inspired labels like Ocean Pacific.She's a skateboarder and she's from a beach town and she's a bit of a tomboy," Wilcox says of Max's aesthetic. "So she likes to wear a lot of color ." Paris in s3 states "As the summer comes around, Max brings her sunny Cali style to Indiana in a wardrobe of cutoff denim shorts, tank tops and much more colour than we’ve seen previously.More optimistic colours now that she’s feeling the summer vibes, and her Californian style is making an impact...Now Max gets to bust out her SoCal wardrobe: sunny yellow tanks and shorts, plus a collection of rainbow T-shirts. Naturally, Max has a technicolor scrunchie collection to match her colorful wardrobe." We also see her debut outfit may be based on when Jill in ‘charlie’s angels’ skateboards for the first time. Jill & Max are both from California too.

My Theory : El's many makeovers may reflect her search for personhood

Then there is the makeovers . This is just a theory on my part but i believe El's inability to stick to a clothing style - and constantly reversing her makeovers every season- is reflective of her not knowing who she is. As El says in response to max telling her she should pick clothes that feels like her- "like me? How do I know what I like?" The whole series we see her try and adopt the fashion-style and verbal phrases of the people she's mimicking. I think sadly she is simply mimicking what she thinks people want- as those around her consciously/ subconsciously try to influence her.We first see in s1, el adopt the gowns and Buzzcut of what brenner her father figure wants (she's stripped of any ability to express herself). Later she wears Mike's clothes as he takes care of her (and she adopts phrases from him: mouth breather, friends don't lie,promise) , then the boys give her a barbie-esque makeover. As she wears Nancy's dress who el throughout s1 thought was pretty and who she aspired to resemble. In s2 this makeover is undone - and now instead of Mike's clothes- she adopts hopper's plaid attire ( and copies hopper' phrases: not stupid), later another group of people give her a punk makeover (and el adopts the bitchin phrase). And then yet again this look is undone and she wears a soft pastel dress and makeup for the snowball. However by s3, all these looks are undone- and she goes back to wearing Hopper's clothes . Later max (like everyone else) gives her a makeover. Max to be fair tries to get el to choose for herself. But the costume designers allude to the fact el is once again just copying max. Hindsgaul : " Max is the one who shows her the way." The stylist describes their similar looks as "girlfriend styles" (because El’s style is meant to resemble max’s). Then we have el verbally copy max ("make my own rules", as well as a myriad of other phrases). And by the end of s3 this makeover is also undone for the most part- she goes back to hopper's flannels and is wearing max's hair tie now. None of it is ' her'-but others around her!

I also think it’s interesting Max says for El to dress what feels like her - and not hopper or her bf (”not Hopper. not mike. you”). But then max’s bf dresses to impress her. And Nancy seems to do something similar with jonathan- possibly giving those pairings a negative connotation about not being yourself when dating someone?

Some clothes in s3 were supposed to illustrate some characters embracing entering adulthood while others fearing it

"We made Mike feel a little more mature," says Parris. "He's got more solid polo shirts — he still has some stripes and patterns — but his outfits are not as juvenile or as young-looking as Will's." She intentionally dressed the latter in more child-like, wider stripes."

"You can see between their clothing that Will hasn't grown as much," adds Parris. "But you can see that Mike is maturing a little bit more in the colors and patterns he's choosing."

Amy paris, states that this was well-intended due to Will's inability to move on from their childhood and accept their transitional course into their teenage years

while the teens " Nancy and Johnathan dress more professionally, accepting they are entering adulthood. "

The change of bright clothing between s3 and its 3 month time skip in the fall is supposed to represent the show returning back to its narrative roots

"You can tell the leaves are changing and it's a little bit after, and so the boys are back in pants, you can tell it's almost fall," Parris says. "So it's starting to get a little chillier, the clothing is less bright, we kind of knocked it all down a bit more, make the colors more muted, just to make it feel a little more similar to the first two seasons, just to connect it back to what we've been seeing...So it was nice to have a shift change completely in the clothing, and just the feel of the show."

personally i think “what we’ve been seeing” is the purposeful superficiality of s3 and it’s characters trying to abide by what society/the audience wants from them- expressed via bright colors, overly upbeat/comedic tone, being ooc, consumerism, and dysfunctional romance. The ‘new coke’ refs being a whole meta joke about s3 in itself. In April 1985, Coca-Cola decided to change its recipe, abandoning what we now know as Coca-Cola Classic for a new flavor that was not well-received by coke fans -known as “new coke”(shown all over s3 which ALSO takes place in 1985). Aka the bright veneer/superficiality/shallowness of s3 is ‘new coke’ in this analogy. There have been various analysis (you can read here) where me and others talked about this topic in waaaay more detail.

Movie and show references

- Will's s1 vest was supposed to emulate Marty from back to the future. Similarly max has Marty's skateboard.

- Joyce's s1 look (hair, leather jacket, smoker) was inspired by the Meryl streep’s character in silkwood (1983) same year as s1). The silkwood character is also poor, and struggling with her kids after a messy divorce.

- the russian assasain is styled after the terminator

- el's s1 makeover to walk without garnering suspicions.was inspired by the et makeover where et does the same. Similarly her dressing as a ghost for Halloween is another et ref-since et also dressed as a ghost for Halloween. And yes Mike being a ghostbuster while El is a ghost, is a 100% a diss of their ship XD

Millie Bobbi Brown : ‘” [The Duffer brothers] told me that the performance that they wanted me to resemble was E.T. and that relationship between E.T. and the kids,” Brown said. "I thought that was very interesting, and Matt and Ross were like, Basically you’re going to be an alien.'"

-el wears a shirt from the winona movie "lucas" (worn by the movie character lucas). movie-Lucas says him and Maggie are like "romeo and juliet" (like what mileven was verbally compared to in s3). He’s in an unrequited romantic relationship with maggie (and they aren’t endgame). And he later says him and Maggie are from “different worlds.” (similarly st-Lucas in s2 says about the mileven stand in- "they're not in love they're not even from the same planet." We know it's in ref to mileven because he's directly referencing he-man and barbie kissing. El in s1 watches he-man. And in s2 - dustin also has a he-man doll next to a et doll (which el has been compared to).

- similar to the movie theatre/video store. The Halloween Holliday was used for the duffers to insert as many of their inspirations in the show as possible - in as an organic way as possible. We have the ghost busters ref (with the boys), max as Michael myers from nightmare on elm Street, and el dresses as a ghost (similar to et-who dresses as a ghost for Halloween). The guests at the Halloween party- dress up as film characters too . Nancy and Steve dress up as a couple from risky business. 1 girl is a character from flashdance. The man in the toga is inspired by the character in national lampoons: animal house (which steve says is one of his fav movies in s3).one girl is in a wonder woman costume -reffed in s3. Billy is dressed as a villain vampire from 'lost boys'. Tommy (Steve's ex friend) is a villain cobra kai character (karate kid- a film referenced in s3).

- An unconfirmed easteregg I noticed was “bad news bears”.

the colors and over all design: mostly white. yellow lines on the legs/collars/and cuffs, matching yellow belts,hats,socks, and undershirts . The “bears” and “tigers ” written in black on the front. It SEEMS LIKE A FILM EASTERGG. I Wouldn’t be surprised if this 70s film “bad news bears” was inspo. One baseball player in the film was even named Billy.I watched the remake/ original and both have a focus on 1 player and their ab*sive dad (who is a baseball coach). Which narratively fits with what we saw in s3.

-an unconfirmed clothing easteregg is IT. The Duffers said the novel & 90s miniseries were inspo for ST. But, Finn (Mike) was also in the recent IT remakes. So maybe Max’s yellow/red raincoat -is a ref to Georgie in the IT remakes. Who wore a yellow raincoat in a storm and is highly associated with a red balloon. Georgie wore this yellow coat when interacting with the monster (during a rainstorm). Similar to Max during a rainstorm - interacting with Flayed- Billy. Yellow raincoats are also a common visual trope in other horror media , as well. The bright color is meant to contrast the bleak-dark weather around them.

-Max’s s2 look probably is inspired by 80s skateboarders in cinema: charlie’s angel skateboarder (Jill) + marty mcfly. Marty, Jill, and Max are all skateboarders -and all 3 are from California!

- lucas and max wear shirts that Donna and Eric (a couple) wear in 'that 70s' show. Max -is donna the feminist, tomboy, red-head, who doesn’t take sh*t. What’s interesting is lucas wears one of eric’s shirts when they’re broken up and he’s fliritng with other girls- and earlier in the season Max called Lucas ‘Don juan’ (a name for a player- so it’s maybe foreshadowing of a s4 breakup too?)

- The bathing suit attire of Billy and heather was influence by Fast Times at Ridgemont High' . The slow-mo montage of Billy walking in his bathing suit to the song “Moving in Stereo” is a reference to phoebe kates character doing the exact same thing in 'fast times' . However Paris also states Billy's suit was also from the "1989 hoffman look' (from baywatch)

-’Scoops Ahoy” uniforms were also loosely inspired by the nautical-themed mall-restaurant at "fast times".Fast Times at Ridgemont High's "Captain Hook Fish and Chips" .

- hopper watches and styles his mustache and floral shirt after the character from magnum pi. In previous seasons his look was inspired by indianna jones and sheriff Brody from jaws.

- the mayor of s3's look was inspired by the mayor-villain in jaws. Both also share the name larry. And both put money before the town’s people’s safety.

- Steve's style was inspired by by Tom Cruise’s characters Joel Goodson in Risky Business and Stefan "Stef" Djordjevic in All the Right Moves (1983). Both films are referenced by Steve in s1. ‘All the right moves’ is on the movie theatre sign he spray paints in s1. And ‘Risky business’ is the film he asks Nancy to go see with him. He also mentions how Carol said he looks like Tom Cruise, who Nancy has a poster of in her bedroom. Steve also wears the same Nike shoes that Cruise wore in All the Right Moves. Other inspirations in the designer's mood boards were Johnny Depp as Glen Lantz in A Nightmare on Elm Street (Glen Lantz was the love interest of NANCY Thompson in the original Nightmare on Elm Street film).

- Nancy's style in early seasons is supposed to be based off john hues films. And Paris states she was supposed to have a 'molly ringwold vibe’. Her look was also was inspired by ‘freaks and geeks’ lindsay weir.

-lucas wears a Japanese shirt in order to impress max and to emulate the karate kid. Since Max has a crush on Ralph machio- the main protagonist of karate kid.

- Matthew Modine, who played Dr. Brenner, didn't much care for the description of his character's costume being a "plaid shirt, beard, and jeans". I think it’s interesting how brenner’s initial appearance would be more similar to Hopper/lonnie’s-making the ‘you are like papa’ phrase have a bit more of a punch (if they all had similar apperances). “Modine decided to model his hairstyle after Robert Shaw from Battle of the Bulge and get a suit similar to the pristine one worn by Cary Grant in North by Northwest.”

#joyce byers #jonathan byers #will byers #mike wheeler #el hopper #byler #jim hopper #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #dustin henderson #byeler #billy hargrove #stranger things theory #stranger things

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yamsfrecklvs · 4 years

Text

haikyuu characters as my favorite artists/bands : headcanons !!

i just needed to talk abt this okay

includes: kuroo, sugawara, yachi, tsukishima, oikawa, yamaguchi, kenma

warnings: nothing much, just a bit of swearing maybe

kuroo as arctic monkeys:

he just ... gives that vibe.

i just KNOW that he’d listen to them, probably while practicing alone or while doing homework because they give him the right amount of energy

i’m pretty sure he jams to some of their songs in front of the mirror while imagining to play the guitar and mimicking it because he’s like that and we all know it !! he does it in the locker room too and the other guys walked in on him doing that shit a million times but who cares he thinks it looks cool </3

probably got to know them thanks to kenma

thought abt learning guitar because of them

listens to the slowed and reverb versions

blasts their songs in random car rides

his faves would def be: fluorescent adolescent, suck it and see, arabella, you’re so dark, snap out of it, teddy picker and my propeller

sugawara as lana del rey

classy but CHAOTIC and just the right amount of spicy

he has all the vinyls. i just KNOW it.

he’d just sit there and enjoy the music calmly, maybe outside at night or in the morning while he walks to school

def forced the team to listen to some songs

i think he’d also be really into her whole aesthetic and the old 50s hollywood vibe, her music surely influences his personal style too

has some of her songs in a hypothetical makeout playlist to get in the mood

HE LISTENS TO THE UNRELEASED SONGS AND NO I DON’T TAKE ANY CRITICISM.

his faves would be: blue velvet, salvatore, cherry, gods & monsters, freak, yes to heaven, florida kilos and smarty

yachi as mitski:

i don’t think i really need to explain this one

i’m sure she relates to some of the struggles in her songs :(

class of 2013. yeah.

she listens to her when she’s really sad and maybe needs to let everything out, her music is so moving, emotional and intimate and that’s enough to make her feel better after a long day

also listens to her whilst doing her homework

probably makes playlists for the team with some of her songs in them :(( she’s so cute i can’t

uses some of her songs to calm herself down when she’s nervous

def scribbles quotes from her songs on her notes and thinks it makes them prettier

her faves would be: class of 2013, my body’s made of crushed little stars, townie, carry me out and two slow dancers

tsukishima as cigarettes after sex

will never admit it but he’s a huge fan

knows every song by heart

nobody knows that he listens to them except for yams and he often gets teased for it

is overall just a sucker for their cheesy slow romantic songs because deep down maybe he just wants love yk

is not good with words so he WILL dedicate their songs to show affection to people he truly cares about

probably listens to them to relax or even sleep

listening sessions at 3am when he can’t sleep

probably walks around in early winter mornings with his earphones in blasting their songs because they help him start the new day

secretly dreams about love with their songs ... sigh i know that he’s a softie but he will never admit it

his faves would be: john wayne, young & dumb, crush, i’m a firefighter, k., each time you fall in love

oikawa as taylor swift:

he STANS taylor to an uncomfortable extent

probably listens to her old music while practicing and her newer songs when he’s at home

definitely cried while listening to some songs

mirrorball is the song he resonates with the most. idc (“I’ve never been a natural, all do is try, try, try”)

totally listens to her while getting ready

his playlists are full of her songs

he definitely made a playlist full of her songs for iwaizumi (you can take this as just platonic or romantic, take it as you will, i just think he’d do it either way <3)

they give off the same vibes tbh <3

his favs would be: mirrorball, style, lover, i did something bad, love story, cardigan, you belong with me, paper rings and ‘tis the damn season

yamaguchi as poppy:

i JUST KNOW that this boy would listen to her. i feel like he’s really into any sort of alternative music even though it doesn’t really look like it (am i influenced by the punk yamaguchi au? maybe.) so her metal sound is just *chef’s kiss*

he just sits there silently with a little smile on his lips with metal music in his ears. it gives him lots of energy

when he’s alone he def gets up and screams at the top of his lungs to all of her songs. all of them.

also enjoys the old albums like bubblebath

is in love with her style but probably too shy to even try doing the same

has playlists full of her songs to go FERAL to

likes her covers too and was probably in the poppy fandom since the beginning so he basically knows everything

his faves would be: i disagree, fill the crown, money, lowlife, am i a girl?, iconic, BLOODMONEY, computer boy and girls in bikinis

kenma as penelope scott

great music to play games to

the anger in her songs sometimes resonates with him

the hyperpop influence in her music scratches his brain just right

probably likes that she’s not that well known

sweet hibiscus tea. that’s it. it’s his song.

probably listens to her entire discography in one sitting sometimes

listens to the unreleased songs too

his faves would be: dead girls, cigarette ahegao, sweet hibiscus tea, lotta true crime, born2run and moonsickness

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #hq scenarios #hq #hq imagines #tsukishima kei #haikyuu yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #kuroo tetsurō #haikyuu kuroo #yachi headcanons #sugawara koushi #mitski #taylor swift #kozume kenma #arctic monkeys #oikawa #oikawa tooru

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mooshys · 4 years

Text

tokyo day off

genre | gen, humor

characters | Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Kugisaki Nobara, Zenin Maki, Inumaki Toge, Panda, Gojo Satoru, Character Cameo, Reader

summary | A summer outing in the city takes a wrong turn.

word count | 4.0k

author’s note | I don’t know what possessed me to write this. I really don’t. But anyway, this came to me like a fever dream and I feel like we need some comfort after everything Gege has been putting us through with the current arc. Here’s to enjoying a day with your favorite characters in the city!

The day started like any other at Jujutsu High.

Classes began in the morning, lunch, some training, and afterwards time to relax was granted. Summer afternoons in Tokyo were hot, but the weather today wasn’t all too dreadful. The scatter of white clouds offered shade from the harsh rays of the sun and the breeze from the mountains tickled your skin, coaxing you out of your room.

With nothing to do, you and the rest of the student body congregated together in the usual spot near the dorms. At the base of a tree next to the training grounds, you sat behind Nobara, playing with her hair to make a neat braid as she scrolled through her phone. On either side of you, Megumi and Maki had their backs against the trunk, both flipping through a book and scanning the words at their own pace. The others were lying right on the grass in the shade, enjoying the nap inducing weather. Panda acted as a pillow for Yuuji and Inumaki as both boys were drawn to the plush of his fur.

The moment was serene. Calm. Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

It almost felt wrong to be doing nothing.

For a while, there was silence between the group with only the sounds of cicadas chirping in the trees and the caws of a crow to be heard. Nobara crossed her arms in front of her chest and let out an agitated sigh.

“I’m so bored!” Nobara groaned aloud. “How’re we in Tokyo and we’re doing absolutely nothing?”

“Hey, sometimes doing nothing isn’t all too bad,” you said as your fingers combed through her hair to finish the braid you were making. “I mean, I’m pretty sure the quote ‘May you live in interesting times’ is a curse.”

“It is,” Megumi agreed. His eyes were still on his book, but he was focused on the conversation. “It’s better that nothing’s happening anyway.”

Nobara stuck her tongue out at Megumi. “Booooooring.”

“If you’re so bored then just leave,” he snapped.

Nobara was about to bite back, but you stopped her from arguing as you tied her hair, finishing her braid. More interested in her new style than Megumi, Nobara grabbed the end of the tail and fished her phone out to take a picture. You laughed at how easy it was to appease her while Megumi merely shook his head at her attention span.

The sudden commotion between you three caught Maki’s attention and she set her book aside.

“Oi, we know you’re bored too, Fushiguro,” Maki said, a teasing edge to her voice. The corners of Megumi’s lips quirked downward. He shut his book and looked up to pay attention to what his senior had to say. “That’s why you aren’t in your room right now and you’re sitting with us out here. Just admit it.”

“It was getting stuffy at the dorms,” was his quick reply.

At this, you and the others raised an eyebrow at him. Even Inumaki peeled himself off the comfort of Panda’s fur to get a good look. He said it too fast, like he had it rehearsed in the back of his mind if anyone asked.

“Lies,” Maki leaned in closer and inspected his face for any tells. She cackled when he broke eye contact and then turned to the rest of the group. “You know what? We should do something together instead of spending the afternoon here.”

Inumaki raised a hand in the air. “Tuna mayo.”

“Exactly,” Maki agreed, nodding her head. She stood up on her feet and pointed a finger at Megumi. “I think the last time we spent the day together as a group was—”

“Never!” Panda finished, excited as to where this conversation was leading.

Maki hit her fist into the palm of her other hand and smirked. The other upperclassmen got up to their feet and stretched their bodies to get ready for an outing. Nobara, the catalyst of all this, held a fist up into the air as she beamed, victory written all over her face.

“Tokyo day trip!” she cheered. Yuuji joined her side and started to mimic the comical poses she was making. “And here I thought we’d never get the chance to explore the city!”

Maki chuckled and made her way towards you, offering a hand to help you up. You took it without hesitation. An outing together would be a nice change in pace. After all, you could barely remember the last time you hung out with everyone.

“Then,” she hooked her arm around your neck and snapped her fingers at Megumi, “let’s get ready to enjoy Tokyo!”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

After getting changed out of the Jujutsu High uniforms and into more fashionable summer attire, you and the rest of the gang made it to the heart of Tokyo on a short bus ride away from the suburbs. The city was packed. It seemed as if everyone was out and about today, the streets busy with locals and tourists alike.

The impromptu day trip started off on a high note. With summer came the sales, and Nobara was keen on hitting every shop to see what they had to offer. She dragged you and Maki with her to multiple boutiques to try on matching outfits and find certain pieces for her wardrobe. She wasn’t shy at all when it came to shopping.

Meanwhile, as you and the girls shopped for clothes, the guys stuck nearby, either buying food from street stands or going into a different store to look around as they waited. They had significantly less bags on hand, but kept themselves busy with their snacks and drinks.

A bit tired from shopping nonstop, you decided to leave the boutique and join the guys outside after browsing the racks. Nobara was already paying and Maki was right behind her, so you made a quiet getaway.

When you left, you found Yuuji outside, holding onto a crepe decked out with numerous sliced fruits and a nice mountain of whipped cream. Panda, Megumi, and Inumaki were nowhere in sight.

“Itadori, where are the rest of the guys?” you asked, sitting down next to him on the bench.

“Went to grab some drinks over there,” he pointed at the tea shop a couple stores down. “Fushiguro said it was getting too hot and he needed something to cool himself down.”

At his explanation, you nodded. Even though today was a lot cooler than others, the mix of asphalt and crowds caused the temperature to rise. A short break was definitely needed.

Conversation with Yuuji continue with him blabbering excitedly about dinner with the group. As he spoke, you eyed the crepe in his hands. It was meticulously decorated with glazed fruits, a mountain of cream, and cookie sticks jutting out at all angles, looking almost too pretty to eat.

“Do you have a sweet tooth?” you asked, interrupting him. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Kinda!” Yuuji scratched the back of his head with his freehand and grinned sheepishly. “To be honest, the main reason why I got this was because the guy working the stand was so awesome.” He did a few action poses and chopped a hand into the air. “He was cutting and flipping the fruits into the cone like a ninja!”

Noticing your gaze focused on his crepe, he grabbed a small biscuit from the top and offered it to you. Surprised, you took it and thanked him as you bit into it.

“Do you like sweets?” he asked this time, grabbing a biscuit for himself and chomping on it. “We can share this if you want!”

Before you got the chance to answer, Nobara and Maki promptly left the boutique and joined you two. Nobara let out a sigh of exhaustion as she fanned her face with her hand and plopped down beside you. In contrast, Maki scanned the area for the others.

“Itadori, the others—”

A cup of milk tea was held in front of Maki’s face, interrupting her question.

“Here,” Megumi said, holding up a drink carrier with several other cups. Inumaki stood beside him holding onto an extra drink of his own. He handed it off to you and you graciously took it. “We got drinks for everyone.”

“Wow, look at you guys!” Nobara applauded them. “Keep this up and you’ll be sure to find a date soon!”

Megumi momentarily scowled while Inumaki held up a peace sign. You took a sip from your drink and instantly found yourself relaxing into the seat. This moment of rest was definitely needed after walking around nonstop. Nobara and Yuuji seemed to think the same, a blissful expression painted on their faces as they enjoyed their treats.

“Where’s Panda?” Maki asked as she took a sip of her drink. Megumi’s face twisted in confusion.

“He’s right”—he turned around and was met with an empty space—“Panda?”

“Salmon!” Inumaki exclaimed, pointing further down the sidewalk.

In the direction Inumaki pointed towards, a giant crowd of tourists and locals alike were surrounding Panda. Hoards of people were trying to get a picture with him, mistaking him for a random street mascot. Cameras were shoved in his face and children cried to pet his fur which left him in a state of distress.

“Oi, Panda!” Maki yelled out. “Let’s go!”

He didn’t seem to hear her as he was more focused on the many phones being shoved in his face. Maki sucked on her teeth and set her bags down. She beckoned Inumaki to follow her.

“You four wait here. We’ll get Panda out.” She gave one last glance over her shoulder. “It won’t take too long!”

With that, she and Inumaki dove into the crowd to try and diffuse the situation. The two were pushed aside like rag dolls as they tried to get closer into the circle and shouts of “Wait your turn!” could be heard even from where you were standing. It looked like they were having a difficult time as the crowd only seemed to attract more people.

“Should we help?” you asked while surveying the entire scene. Panda was practically being mobbed at this point. “I think it might take some time for them to get him out.”

Megumi stared at the madness and took a short sip of his drink. “No, we shouldn’t.”

“Might as well sit down and relax until things get settled!” Nobara exclaimed. She let out a sigh of relief and stretched her arms to the sky. “There’s still tons we gotta see before it gets dark and I really—”

Nobara never got to finish what she was saying as Yuuji shushed her. She was about to curse him into the next decade, but Yuuji held a finger to his lips and then pointed at the other side of the street.

All eyes followed in the direction he was pointing towards.

There, standing on the opposite sidewalk, was Gojo. He was donned in casual attire, rocking a pair of jeans, a crisp white t-shirt, and dark sunnies to replace the Jujutsu Tech uniform he typically wore. His phone was pressed to his ear, completely oblivious to you all staring at him as he was more focused on whoever he was talking to.

“It’s Gojo…” Yuuji whispered.

Nobara jumped up from her seat and positioned herself right next to Yuuji. She held a hand above her eyes to block out the sun as she stared at him.

“He looks so out of place,” she said. “Something about him…”

“It’s the hair, right?” Yuuji commented.

“No, not the hair.”

“His clothes?”

“He just sticks out like a sore thumb,” Nobara said. “I don’t even know.”

“I think I get it. It’s like seeing a zoo animal out of its cage,” Yuuji added. He bit into his crepe and swallowed it in one bite.

Megumi whipped his gaze away from his phone as soon as he heard Yuuji. “Excuse me?”

“You know, like seeing a giraffe walking in the city,” Yuuji elaborated, waving a hand in the air as he explained. “It’s hard to look away!”

Megumi cringed as he imagined a giraffe with a striking resemblance to Gojo. “Gross,” was all he could reply back.

“Shouldn’t we just leave him alone?” you asked, nervously shifting on your feet. Even though you guys were a comfortable distance away from Gojo, it still felt weird to spy on him. “I mean, it’s not like he’s even doing anything interesting…”

“It’s fine!” Nobara waved a hand at you as she kept her eyes trained on him. “He’ll never know!”

You were about to pull them away, but Megumi grabbed your wrist to stop you. He shook his head.

“Stop trying to rationalize with them,” Megumi sighed out. “All your words will go in through one ear and out the other.”

“What’d you say, Fushiguro?” Nobara asked. She didn’t even look at him when talking.

“See.”

“Something about this feels wrong,” you mumbled. “And what if he catches us—”

“He’s got a bouquet!” Nobara pointed out, interrupting you. “Looks pretty expensive too!”

At the mention of flowers, you and Megumi slowly inched towards Nobara and Yuuji to get a glance. Curiosity got the better of you two. True to her words, Gojo was holding a nice arrangement in his hands.

“There’s no way anyone sane would date him,” Megumi said, squinting his eyes to see if it was a hallucination. It wasn’t.

“It’s not like he’s bad looking,” you said.

“Yeah, but he’s insufferable.”

He was right about that. Still, you liked to look for the best in people. “True, but maybe there’s someone out there in the world who can look past that.”

Megumi shivered at your words. Poor soul, he thought.

“I wanna see who that person is,” Nobara said and looked up at you. “Aren’t you interested in his date?”

“...No,” you lied through your teeth.

“Aw, c’mon! Just one look!” Yuuji wiggled his fingers in front of your face as he spoke, his words turning more animated. “What if he’s into cougars? Like a sugar mama.”

“Gojo does not need…” Megumi paused and let out an exasperated sigh. “A sugar mama.”

“You never know, Fushiguro! He might be into that kinda thing!”

“Do you even know what a sugar mama is?”

“I sure do!” Yuuji snapped his fingers at Megumi. “My gramps used to—”

“He’s moving!” Nobara shut the two up and grabbed onto your sleeve. “Let’s go!”

“Kugisaki!” you yelled out at being dragged against your will. Instead of letting go, she locked arms with you.

“You can’t expect me to be stuck with those two dummies for this,” she whispered to you. “Besides, I just wanna see who his date is, it probably won’t take too long. We’ll find out, come back, and after that we’ll go shopping for matching tracksuits!”

At her words, you peered over your shoulder. Megumi and Yuuji were following closely behind you two, still talking about Gojo and his supposed sugar mama preference. Yuuji clapped his hands as he laughed while Megumi spoke in a calm manner; even though he objected earlier to it, Megumi didn’t look like he minded the detour all too much.

“Fine… but we’re getting matching tracksuits right afterwards!”

Nobara grinned and then playfully nudged you with her elbow. You did the same back with a bounce in your steps.

Operation Follow Gojo And Find Out If He’s Really Into Sugar Mamas was a go.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Hours passed and you four were still following Gojo through the city.

What seemed to be mischievous fun slowly morphed into a hellish nightmare. Your feet were throbbing in pain and the summer heat heavily weighed down on you, causing a light layer of sweat to coat your body. After an hour of tailing him, seeing Gojo’s date became a matter of pride. If you all threw in the towel now then it would have meant a loss of dignity from wasting the day following him.

“How long has it been?” you muttered, trying your best to not groan in exhaustion.

No one answered, too embarrassed to even say the number aloud.

The instigators of the group, Nobara and Yuuji, were the most heartbroken about this lost time. They walked through the city like zombies, their spirits crushed. While Yuuji was crestfallen, Nobara had a dark aura surrounding her body. You and Megumi maintained a safe distance from her.

The thing about Tokyo was that it was a large city. A metropolis with twists and turns and buildings stacked up right next to each other like rows of dominos; it had attractions built up into the sky and malls dug underground. You could walk around Tokyo for an entire day and still not cover a quarter of it.

And yet, you were sure you explored the city twice over when tailing Gojo

He used every single back alleyway, rounding corner after corner, almost like he was walking around in circles. He would go into random stores and shop around for a bit only to walk out empty handed. Nothing he did in those few hours of surveillance made sense.

With the sun starting to set, all your motivation sank along with the light. Following Gojo really was the biggest waste of time you had ever indulged in. You checked your phone and saw Maki’s text about going back to the dorms with Inumaki and Panda. A sigh escaped your lips.

“Maybe we should give up,” you said. “Maki and the others already went back to Jujutsu Tech.”

Megumi, the only other one with a rational head on his shoulders, agreed with you. He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck to alleviate the built up tension. “If we leave now we can grab dinner here and then make it back on the last bus.”

Nobara and Yuuji seemed to be fighting an internal battle within themselves. Dinner in Tokyo would be a hell of a lot better than the food at Jujutsu Tech… but at the same time, what if Gojo met up with his date right as you all left? Both tightened their fists at the prospect.

Then a miracle happened.

(Or so you thought.)

Yuuji was the first to notice. From the corner of his eye, he saw another figure approaching Gojo. He quickly hid himself behind a parked taxi, grabbing onto Megumi’s sleeve to avoid being seen. Nobara did the exact same with you. All four of you had your heads stacked upon one another while monitoring the situation: Yuuji at the bottom, Nobara, you, Megumi at the top.

Tall, blond, and well dressed, Gojo’s date approached him with an apathetic expression. Lips turned downward and brows furrowed together, his date was less than impressed. This didn’t faze him in the slightest. Gojo slid down his sunglasses and winked at his date, turning the charm meter up a notch.

Nobara let out a gasp while the rest of the group held their breath.

“They’re gay!” Nobara screamed, pointing towards Gojo and Nanami.

Her sudden outburst garnered a few stares and the accused turned towards your direction. Gojo snickered into his hand while Nanami raised an eyebrow.

“Gay?” Nanami repeated, unamused. He turned his attention back at Gojo. “Explain.”

“I brought the kids along with me too,” Gojo jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at where you and the rest of the gang stood. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Upon hearing this, you deflated completely. The entire time following him was a complete waste. Gojo played you all like a puppet on a string.

“He knew…” Megumi muttered as he covered half of his face with his hand in shame. “He knew we were following him this whole time.”

Gojo practically skipped to where you all were standing, smiling like a cheshire cat. Upon seeing the dejected look on your faces, he let out a laugh, one loud enough to warrant people to look his way as he slapped a hand to his knee.

“This is a lesson,” Gojo began once he caught his breath. “Don’t stalk people in the city.”

“We weren’t stalking you!” Nobara and Yuuji objected at the same time.

“Then what were you four doing?”

You all kept quiet, unable to answer his question. Because truthfully, you guys were stalking Gojo to get a peek at his “date” which turned out to be a giant ruse. Gojo merely cackled at the silence.

“That’s what I thought. Anyway,” he motioned a hand towards Nanami and looked over his shoulder. “Nanami, take care of the kids for a second.”

“Excuse me?” Nanami couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Is this what you called me here for?”

Again, Gojo laughed. Seems like he was going to screw over Nanami as well.

“Yup!” He waved and blew a kiss in the most grandiose manner. “I’ll see you guys in a little bit! Don’t go causing too much trouble for Nanami!”

Right after finishing what he wanted to say, Gojo disappeared in the next second, blending in with the city crowd. You blinked at how easy it was for him to fly off your radar. The others thought the same, keeping quiet.

Tokyo was a complete bust.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

EXTRA:

“See! The sushi comes to you on little bullet trains, Kugisaki!” Yuuji cheered as three plates of salmon nigiri arrived at the booth. He couldn’t stop grinning as he marveled the miniature replica. “Let’s make another order!”

After getting caught red handed and toyed with for the majority of the day by Gojo, he decided to treat you and the rest of the first years to a nearby kaiten sushi restaurant as a peace offering. Not because he felt bad, but rather he didn’t feel like going back to Jujutsu High so soon. You all accepted for the free meal and a ride back to the dorms.

Inside the cramped booth, Nobara and Yuuji were talking over one another while eating, trying to show off their Tokyo knowledge through random trivia found online. Megumi, the most mentally mature of the bunch, spoke up to correct them every now and then, earning either the stink eye from Nobara or finger guns from Yuuji. Their energy was infectious, causing you to laugh along.

With the night nearing its end, you decided to ask the million dollar question. After all, it was the reason why your day in Tokyo was wasted.

“Gojo, what were you doing with those flowers?” you asked as you passed a plate over to him. Since you never got to see his date after his disappearing act, you were curious with what he did with the bouquet.

Instead of stuffing the sushi into his mouth, Gojo set his chopsticks down for a second and paused. In a comedic manner, he closed his eyes and rubbed his chin, seemingly in deep thought.

“Ah, since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you,” he said as he clicked his tongue and snatched the nigiri with his chopsticks. “I was giving them to a friend of mine. It’s been a while since I last saw him, so I decided to do something special.”

“A friend?” It was hard to imagine him with friends. He seemed to drive everyone within a five foot radius up the wall. “Really?”

“Yep,” Gojo replied. He popped another tuna nigiri into his mouth and savored the flavor for a moment before finishing what he had to say. “Flowers are a nice gift, right?”

“I think they are,” you answered truthfully. “Did he like them?”

He smiled. And it wasn’t one of his usual fake asshole smiles he did whenever he beat you guys to the dirt during a spar session, but rather a genuine one. A rarity. “I think he did. He better because that bouquet was expensive.”

“Maybe next time you should invite him with you,” you motioned to the entirety of the table, “to this.”

Gojo chuckled as he watched you all get along. Nobara had Yuuji in a chokehold while Megumi watched from the other side of the table with a stone cold visage. The corners of his lips threatened to twitch upward.

“I think he’d like that.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #itadori yuuji #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #inumaki toge #zenin maki #gojo satoru #yuuji #megumi #nobara #inumaki #maki #gojo #q

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fishmongeringstudies · 3 years

Text

eleven: before the first day of the world

i always thought the quote 'we contain multitudes' was a john green quote because of the way its use had, over time, evolved from unironic to deeply ironic to some weird squeamish mix of the two that meant half of the audience would cringe when it was deployed while the other half would nod very seriously and lean back in their seats, thinking fondly about the summer of '97. for the record, i've always been part of the former. except for this one time in my anthropology class this spring where we were talking about the complexities of human behavior in different environments and i, seeing a glowing opportunity to inject some 2012 tumblr-era humor into the room, typed into the zoom chat: we contain multitudes.

unfortunately, we do. but not in the john green sense, which would mean we smoke cigarettes and want to contribute to world peace, or we crochet blankets and simultaneously want to destroy the small backwater town we grew up in with an electric chainsaw. i'm talking about something less looking for alaska and more i will rip all your hair out with a screwdriver. something that cuts at the fabric of your relationship with the people around you, something that makes it hard to figure out which path to take back to your dorm.

have you ever been ruined by someone who, after ruining you, skipped off happily to lunch with jessica who lives down the hallway and whom you would trust with your bank account number, and found yourself unable to do anything but give half of the lunch parade your blessings?

let's make it simpler: sometimes people are more fucked up than they're worth.

and yet i believe that there is no such thing as a bad person. the adjective-noun combination assumes that the noun always possesses the quality of the adjective, while the people who elbow you down the stairs and into the yawning mouth of hell and then wander off singing cheerily into the woods are the same ones who bring friends care packages when they're sick, who entertain long, thoughtful conversations about philosophy and the flaws of the world, who make great lab partners in group projects. the girl whose definition of love is a chain around the neck is a wonderful orator. the boy who only knows how to understand other people by cutting them up and putting them back together wants to design buildings that will save lives. people are inconsistent. we contradict ourselves and then, upon noticing the contradictions, panic, knock over a vase of flowers, and burn the whole house down.

it always comes back to fire when i write about the last fourteen weeks of spring. we're incredibly flammable, you and i. we're instant fire-starters. we're chemically insane.

at the start of the semester when i allowed someone to tell me in an awkward, prepubescent voice that i was broken i wanted to hate them. then i wanted to forgive them; then i wanted to be their friend. three months later i discovered how hard it is to stay on good terms with someone who knifed you without even realizing they were holding something in their hand to begin with, and yet he's still here. talking to the person who lives at the other end of the hallway. walking to the dining hall with the alligator stairwell, his hands shoved in his pockets. trying to graduate. trying to stay alive.

dear friend: i don't want to be your friend anymore. but don't die on me.

that's the sentiment i leave spring with. a bittersweet note that's more bitter than sweet, like ninety-seven percent cacao chocolate, the really awful shit, the stuff i like to think only white american yoga moms with fat apple-faced babies tied to their hips are willing to eat, and even then, only for the instagram sponsorship. when i think of spring i think of the aftertaste, because everything was sweet in the moment, in the immediacy of the screaming sun and the shifting sky above your head. everything looked like it was made of stars. it was only after i'd chewed up the burnt thing you picked off the ground and gave me, swallowed, and walked the long way back to my dorm, that i realized you'd handed me a pile of dirt.

it was pretty good dirt though, and you know the other day someone asked me, after scrolling through this blog with an eye on their watch and the other on the words flying across the screen, if i hated it here after all. if i wish i'd stayed in singapore, among the palm fronds and the pale, moon-white butterflies. no, i said incredulously, my spoon jammed in my kool-aid jello cup. this is the happiest i've been in ten years.

lately i've been trying to articulate the sense of hopelessness i experienced while growing up. how does one even begin to describe the endless staircase of the days, how each week yawned before me like an abyss with an immortal, unbreakable heart? how do you give a voice to despair?

this morning i went to target with my friend. we didn't find a rectangular frying pan so i bought a bag of mandarins instead, and it was sunny on the way there but on the way back a smear of white cloud dashed across the sky and wrapped its soft fingers around the sun's mouth, by which i mean it got colder, by which i mean that for a while, it felt like spring again. when we got back to our dorm i put the mandarins in the fridge and wandered back into my room and then put on the podcast i've been listening to all week, listened to them talk about monsters and knights and the intricacies of war, love, forgiveness. today i didn't sleep through lunch like i did the day before. today i sat in the garden and read a book.

i think the thing about growing up the way i did is that by the time i was fourteen it felt like it was all over. like i'd ruined everything before it'd ever really begun, and even knowing what steps i might take to mend the god-sized crater i'd dug in my backyard, i couldn't bring myself to take them. so things ended. and because life is a bitch and forgiveness never comes from those you most desire it from, you just kind of laugh and drag yourself through the debris.

i think this is why, in spite of the shouting and the cherry-flavored regrets and the hallways full of footsteps like thunderstorms, and the girls and the boys with their teeth like claws, their claws like daggers, their words careless enough to kill, i feel like a person here. because i came here with nothing. two suitcases, one weighing twenty kilograms and the other weighing nothing at all. i repeat: this is nothing at all. do you understand what i am saying? i was no one when i got here. and now i am no one with some prepubescent mistakes scratched into my forearm and a few ideas about self-preservation. but the pages of this book are still blank. they are inviting me to fill them with the illegible dancing chicken scrawl that is my specialty and the bane of every english professor's existence.

i look over my shoulder and my old bookshelf full of journals, red journals, journals packed with the misery of the last nineteen years shrugs its shoulders. it says they gave you bad books and you wrote half-decent stories; what else could you have done? you did the best that you could in the circumstances you were given. you're still doing that now. then, satisfied with its little speech, it burns itself down.

and that's all i need, really, to keep going.

05.31.21

#trying a new thing in which i stick the post under a cut and pick a nice line from the thing to use as a sick one liner opening #let me know how you like it. if you dont like it i will come to your doorstep and cry for 8 hours just so you know #but i will only accept honest feedback of course. just letting you know #you know #yeah #oh yeah

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detectiveidiotboy · 3 years

Text

His Time In The Commonwealth II: Nick Valentine’s Story

so as my beloved fanfiction, The Black Widow’s Waltz, comes to an end, i’ve decided that i am going to re-release the backstory chapters as their own stand-alone fic, since they read well as their own story. before that, i thought i might do a fun little thing where i release each of the companions backstories as their own post here on tumblr under the tag #his time in the commonwealth.

and thus! on to part two!!! Nick Valentine; and how he made the worst decisions of his life

When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

It was dumb quote, but damn if it wasn’t applicable here.

“Nate!” Nick called, steeling his voice. “We need to talk.” The raven haired man looked up from the pot he had been stirring at his campsite. He was dressed in sturdy flannel shirt, hair tied back with a string - he was the picture of an old-world survivalist out on a camping stint. Nate smiled when he saw the synth detective - his friend.

“Nick,” He said, a pleasant ring to his voice, “Well isn’t this a surprise. I didn’t know you liked camping.”

Nick felt something stir deep in that little part of him that still insisted he was human. Nate had an effect on people, and Nick knew he wasn’t immune. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to just sit down with his friend and have a bowl of stew made from whatever wild creature Nate had picked off that day. Maybe this whole thing was ridiculous; Nate was odd, some would say a bit quicker to violence than the average wastelander - but he wasn’t a murderer. Right?

Whatever remains, however improbable...

“This isn’t a friendly visit,” Nick said, eyes narrowed. He stood firm between the trees, hands at his sides. “I’m here on business.”

Nate cocked his head, expression genuine and confused. “You didn’t tell me you had another case come in.” Nate said.

“I didn’t,” Nick said. “This is something I’ve been working on alone.”

“I wish you would have told me,” Nate said, turning back to his soup to stir the pot before it boiled over. “What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t help you crack a case that has you this worked up?”

“The kind who’s become my prime suspect,” Nick said. Nate had pulled the spoon up to his mouth to sample his creation. He lowered the spoon as he took in Nick’s accusation.

“Prime suspect?” Nate said, brows knit. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”

“Cut the crap, Nate - I know you murdered Piper,” Nick hissed. The words hung between the two for a long moment. The pop pop pop of boiling water broke up the monotony of the windless day. Nate stared at Nick, Nick stared at Nate.

“Well, I have to say,” Nate said, lowering his spoon back into the pot with a soft ting, “that’s quite the accusation coming from someone I thought was my friend.” The words stung, as did the harsh tone Nate said them in. Nick had to fight not to flinch. “I suppose you have some evidence to back up this claim that I murdered my girlfriend, right?”

“I do,” Nick said grimly, “you know I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t absolutely sure it was you.”

“Then by all means,” Nate said, crossing his legs and spreading his arms, “share with me.”

Nick took a breath. He’d been preparing for this confrontation for hours. He still didn’t think he was ready. “Piper didn’t tell anyone where she was going the day she went missing,” Nick said, “not even Nat knew where she was.”

“I know,” Nate said, sounding impatient. “That’s why it took the city so long to find her remains.”

“But you see, the thing about that is,” Nicks said, “When they found Piper, there was a notepad and pencil in her pocket, as if she had gone out looking for a story.”

“She was dedicated to her work,” Nate mumbled, eyes staring at the autumn leaves on the ground. For all Nick saw, Nate looked exactly like the grieving boyfriend he claimed to be. The kind, accurate description of his late friend followed by the image of Nate appearing somber and dejected made Nick's head spin, but he soldiered on.

“That she was,” Nick nodded, “which was why she never left Diamond City without telling someone where she was going. What good’s a story if there’s no one to tell it, right?”

“I assumed it was something secret or sudden,” Nate said. “Something like a follow up on her story about the mayor now that he’s dead and confirmed to be an institute spy.”

Nick grimaced. He would have to circle back to that later, since he was almost certain that Nate had been the one who 86’ed McDonough as well. “That’s what everyone assumed. Hell, even I thought that the poor girl had finally bitten off more than she could chew, maybe pushed one too many buttons with the Institute - but then I thought about it and something about the story I’d heard just didn’t jive.”

“Oh?”

“See, the body was found with a notebook and a pencil,” Nick continued. “Now I’ve sat down to plenty of interviews with that girl over the years - not once did I see her use anything other than a pen.”

“So that’s your evidence?” Nate said, unimpressed. “Piper switched up her writing utensil and suddenly you think I killed her.”

“No, of course not,” Nick said, “But the fact that you were the last person to see her alive does raise a few questions.”

Nate narrowed his eyes. “Nick, you know that I was nowhere near Diamond City when she died. I was with you, tracking down those holotapes."

“No - you were nowhere near Diamond City when Piper was presumed dead,” Nick clarified.

“I don’t think I follow you here, Nick," Nate said.

“I found her, Nate, ” Nick said, voice softer than intended. He felt his jaw lock up. If he were human he would have swallowed - the reflex was still there for him. He took a deep breath and continued. “She's in a bunker not far from the old drive-in. I found the real Piper.”

It had been only a few hours prior that Nick found himself face-to-face with the body of his dear friend; there was no mistaking her face, slumped over an old-world desk with eyes still open. She hadn't been dead long. If only he had been faster… the state of her body and room surrounding told him she hadn’t been dead more than a week, maybe even only a day or two - which was a far cry from the near month-and-a-half that the city guards had presumed her deceased. When all of this was over with, Nick would go back and make sure she was buried properly. For now, he had to see justice through.

“When the guards found what they thought was Piper's body, they couldn’t make out her face. The poor thing was filled with so many bullets the only way they could identify who it was was by her clothes and the notepad planted on the body.” Nick said. "The Piper I found died about a week ago, around the very same time that the Guards found the fake Piper."

“So if I'm following you," Nate said, eyeing Nick with an unreadable expression, "you think someone kidnapped Piper, dressed some random body up in her clothes, and then, after the guards found what they thought was Piper's body, they killed her."

"Not someone, Nate, it was you. I know it was you," Nick said solemnly.

"And why do you think that?" Nate spit. "What motivation could I possibly have to kill her?" He was clearly offended, which was fair enough considering the accusations - but if he really was the culprit as Nick suspected, then there was a disturbing amount of genuine indignation present in his eyes.

"I don't know," Nick admitted. "No matter how much I think about it I can't say why you did it, but I do know is how you did it."

"Enlighten me." Nate crossed his arms and glared.

Nick closed his eyes. He hated every second this dragged on. "Everyone assumed McDonough's assassination was the work of the Institute, including Piper. She was worried that if the Institute had anyone to come after next, it would be her. Now she was fearless, and she'd put her life on the line to tell the people the truth more than once before, but Piper wasn't just worried about herself. It was Nat she was really concerned for."

Nate's eyes twitched, following along the story. "So that's why she skipped town… You think she went into hiding."

"Exactly," Nick said. "When I went snooping around that bunker there weren't any scratch marks or signs that Piper had been trying to escape - hell, there was a spare key in her pocket that worked with the lock. It was a nice set up too; Piper had everything she needed to live down there for weeks - food, water, ammo, turrets. There was no way she managed to stock up all that alone. Piper did well for herself as writer in a city, but not that well. She had help making herself disappear, someone she trusted more than anyone else, someone with the means to sponsor her little stay in the woods."

"And you think that person is me," Nate concluded. "And you think the person who helped her hide would be the same person who killed her, since no one else would have known where she was - ergo, you think I killed her."

"Bingo," Nick said.

Nate sighed, slumping back against a tree. "Nick, as much as I admire your skills as a detective, the evidence you've provided is circumstantial." He said. "I won't deny that I have an over abundance of caps, and Piper trusted me more than just about anyone else, but you're still missing one key thing here - why would I kill her? She was my girlfriend."

"And that's just what you were banking on, wasn't it?" Nick accused. "Why would anyone suspect you - the two of you were like a couple of sweethearts pulled straight from a 2050s romance flick. All you had to do was play the part of the grieving lover for a few days and then disappear for a little while."

Nate narrowed his eyes, expression soured and irate. He opened his mouth to argue, but Nick didn't want to hear it. "All that is besides the point. I don't need to know why you killed her. All I need is proof that you did," Nick said, "Hard evidence."

"Evidence that you do not have," Nate pointed out.

"Not yet," Nick said, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a key with a Vault Tech ornament attached to the chain. Covering eyes of the tiny vault man was the number "2" stamped on in old-world ink. "This was the key I found in Piper's pocket. It's a copy, a spare, and I'm wiling to bet that whoever did her in has the original." Nate snarled and Nick felt the place where his heart should be skip. "It's been over a week since you've stopped by Sanctuary or any of the other settlements where you offload your crap. I checked. I'm willing to bet you still have the key on you-"

"Nick, this is ridiculous," Nate said with a roll of his eyes. "Even if you don't find the key on me that won't prove my innocence."

"But if I do find it, it prove at the very least you lied when you said you didn't know where she was, and if that were the case then you should have known all along that body the guards found wasn't her," Nick said.

The pair stared at each other, both knowing exactly how this would end yet neither wanting to initiate the final move. Soft sounds of woodland life filled in the gap in their standoff. Nick found his nerve after twenty full seconds and spoke.

"Empty your pockets."

"This is stupid."

"Turn out your pockets, Nate," Nick said, this time far more sternly.

"It wasn't me!" He insisted. "Anyone could have killed her! She was hiding from the Institute after all-"

Nick unholdered his gun. "Nate, don't make me do this," He said, putting the wide-eyed man's head in his sights. "Just turn out your pockets, nice and slow."

Nate stared at Nick as if he had never seen the synth before in his life. If Nick hadn't destroyed their friendship before, this was likely the last straw. He didn't want what he said to be true, but part of him hoped to God he was right. He'd crossed a line here and he knew there was no going back if this was all just a mistake. Slowly, Nate's hand reached down into his jeans. He dug around in his right pocket for a moment before pulling his hand back out, fingers curled around something small. Nate opened his palm to reveal a keychain labeled '#1' over a Vault Man fob.

Nick lowered his gun, opening his hand to accept the damning key from Nate. There was no denying it now. Even if the keychain was some sort of astronomically improbable coincidence, Nick's optical sensors were sensitive enough to detect every groove in the key's body - it was identical to the one Nick had found on Piper. He looked between the metal object and his supposed-friend, waiting for an explanation. In spite of everything, Nick silently begged for Nate to prove him wrong.

Come on, Nate, work with me here, Nick thought. Tell me I'm wrong. Give me an explanation, something I don't know, something obvious I've overlooked. Give me some new evidence, some new lead - promise to help me find whoever killed Piper and bring them to justice. Just please, don’t be you.

Nate continued to stare at Nick, expression unreadable. His anger he’d shown before had died off into an almost calm, pestered look. Silence dragged on between them for a full eighty-four seconds, the numbers ticking up in the back of Nick’s head. Finally, Nate’s shoulders dropped, and the thin line of his mouth fell into a disgusted frown.

“Really? You couldn’t have waited, like, a month before doing this?”

Nick was struck by the shift in tone. Nate wasn’t upset any more - if he ever really had been - but instead just seemed bothered by Nick, as if the synth had interrupted his afternoon with some trivial nonsense. Nick couldn’t keep the shock from his face.

“Does that mean you really did it?” Nick said, unable to stop himself. “You murdered Piper?”

Nate arched a brow at his former friend. “I thought you already figured that out, detective,” He said mockingly. “Yes, Nick. I killed Piper. Everything happened exactly as you said it did, down to the last detail. Congrats, you solved the case - serves me right for palling around with a cop.”

Nick realized well after the fact that his mouth was open. Dread flooded his system as he went over the words Nate said, replaying the admission a thousand times in his head in a desperate bid to find some meaning other than the obvious. “Why?” He said when he could finally get his mouth around the words. “How could you do it, Nate? She was your friend - your partner. She trusted you!”

Nate had the audacity to roll his eyes at Nick. “Why do you care? She was annoying anyways.”

Nick couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could this be the same man who had rescued him from the Triggermen? The man who’d been helping him work through cases for almost two months now - who’d helped him track down Eddie Winter and put the old Nick’s fiancé to rest? A part of him wondered if Nate had been switched out by the Institute, because surely to God Nick couldn’t have been so thoroughly fooled for so long.

But he knew that wasn’t true. The Nate in front of him was the same Nate Nick had always known. The same man who killed Skinny Malone and Darla while saving Nick's life. The man who had gunned down the entire settlement of Covenant while rescuing Stockton's daughter from fanatics. The same Nate who had burst out laughing and applauded when Nick put his foot down on Winter's chest and nailed him between the eyes. Nate had always been this way. Cunning, smart, charming, sadistic, cruel. Some detective he was - Nick had been overlooking the obvious this whole time. Nate was a monster.

“You’re sick,” Nick hissed, anger winning out over hurt and betrayal. He dropped the key and raised his pistol to take aim again. “I ought to shoot you now before you cause any more harm.”

Nate laughed, a choked, manic sound. His head turned to the side and he squinted at Nick. “Oh come on, don’t be like that,” Nate said. “We can still be friends, you know?”

“I’m not your friend,” Nick spit, “apparently I never was. Friends don’t murder each other’s friends because they’re ‘annoying’ them.”

Nate sighed in a harsh, irritated breath. “You’re overreacting,” He told Nick. Nate turned around, completely unphased by the barrel of Nick’s gun pointed at his temple, and began packing up his camping supplies. “Come on. Let’s just forget this whole thing and move on. She’s dead now - shooting me won’t bring her back, you know.”

“Shut the hell up you goddamn physcopath” Nick snapped. “The only reason I haven’t put a bullet in you yet is because you’re going to come back to Diamond City with me and face justice there.”

“Really?” Nate said as he smothered the campfire with dirt and stones. “Does Diamond City even have a judicial system? Even before everything went all martial law it seemed to run on a system of ‘do what we say or get shot.’”

Nick ignored him. He’d come to the conclusion that anything he said to Nate would be brushed off or disregarded completely. Nate didn’t seem to grasp the severity of what he'd done, and Nick was beginning to realize that nothing he said would make him understand. There wasn’t a shred of decency in that bastard that wasn’t a put-upon performance.

Nick marched up beside Nate and snatched the man by the wrist. Nate looked at the metal skeleton of a hand clutching his arm, then up at Nick with a curious expression.

“You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not,” Nick said sternly.

“I really don’t know what you think you’re accomplishing by doing this,” Nate said calmly.

“You know what? I don’t really give a damn what you think,” Nick said. “You either follow me back to Diamond City or get shot in the head and dragged back as a corpse - either way is fine by me.”

Nate snatched his wrist back, throwing Nick’s hand off with a force Nick hadn’t realized a human was capable of. Nate shot the detective a skeptical look. “You’re not going to shoot me,” He said confidently.

“The hell I won't!” Nick said, raising his gun once again to level with Nate’s skull - this time the barrel sat less than an inch from his forehead. Nate knocked the gun away with a casual swipe of his hand.

“No, you won’t,” Nate said, reaching down to grab his sleeping back that he had rolled back up into its case. “You’re not a killer, Nick - I’ve never seen you shoot someone who wasn’t shooting at you first. Face it, you’re just not built for this.”

Nick grit his teeth, eyes locked with Nate for a moment before the latter turned and continued packing up. His finger tightened around the trigger, hands trembling. Why couldn't he shoot? Was there some sort of calibration error in his circuits?

Finally, with the last of his items packed up, Nate turned his back to the detective and began walking off back towards sanctuary. “Whenever you get over this come find me, ‘kay?” He said with a dismissive wave. “I got a pretty interesting radio call from an old friend of yours up north. Seemed like he had a case for you, and I'd love to tag along. I'd be willing to check it out with you if you can manage to keep your pistol in your pocket.”

Nick watched as Nate pushed his way through the forest, stepping over brambles and bushes to clear out. His head was lined up in Nick’s sight, but he didn’t seem to care, because Nate was just that confident that Nick Valentine was not going to shoot him in the back.

Nick lowered the gun just a fraction. Nate was right about him, Nick wasn’t a murderer. Not in his previous life, and not in this one. Despite how much the post-apocalypse had tried to break him down, Nick had always stuck by his morals. Everyone deserved a chance to become a better person, and justice cannot be found by gunning down defenseless people. Even Eddie Winter had pulled a gun on him first during their standoff in his bunker.

“Hey, Mister Valentine!!”

Nick turned, mouth open and chopsticks full of noodles in the air. The young girl in a pink coat looked up at him; she was new in town, if Nick recalled. Barely old enough to be out of school and already trying to start up her own paper company. The news was one of the old Nick’s guilty pleasures - as yellow as journalism was back then, it was nice to sit down with a paper and read about what was happening in the world. Nick had been rather thrilled to hear someone was trying to bring it back.

“Hi there,” He said, putting down his bowl on the counter. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet.”

“Piper Wright, chief writer of the Public Occurrences. Yes, I know the name's ironic, ” She popped up onto the bar stool next to Nick. Amazingly, she hadn’t seemed bothered at all by Nick’s half-empty bowl or his metal hand - he was used to the first one or two meetings with people being riddled with uncomfortable questions and staring.

“Good to make your acquaintance, Piper,” Nick said, tipping his hat politely. Very few people liked to shake hands with a synth, he’d learned. “The name’s Nick Valentine, local private eye.”

Piper smiled like he’d just announced himself as a wealthy corporate heir here on holiday. “I’ve seen the signs,” She said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “I was hoping to ask you a few questions for our latest issue.”

Nick tried not to let his discomfort show. Him and questions were almost never a pleasant pair if he wasn’t the one asking. His past was a touchy subject, especially now that the Institute was becoming a major threat, and if people weren’t asking him about that, their questions typically centered around his anatomy in a far too personal way - he could hardly imagine what queries would pop up in the mind of a post-adolescent girl. Still, the kid looked excited, and she was being professional about this. Besides, if things got out of hand he could always excuse himself and head back to the office.

So, Nick shrugged and said, “Sure, Piper, I got a few minutes.”

“Thanks!” She squeaked, snatching a notepad from her pocket and clicking her pen. Nick braced himself for whatever questions came next. “So word on the street is you were recently in Goodneighbor for a case,” Piper started. “Can you give me a statement on the current state of affairs in Diamond City’s delinquent sister town?”

Nick blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Oh, um,” He said, wracking his memory for the case she was talking about. Lately his memory had been getting harder and harder to sort through. Nick didn’t know how long he was built to last, but he was sure he was well past his warranty. Finally, Nick pulled up details about his trip. He took another second to skim through the less appropriate sections and put together his response. “The place is doing a lot better now that Hancock is in charge,” he said. “There’s a couple of shops set up now that keep the doors open, and you’re a lot less likely to get stabbed if you turn your back on the wrong guys. I even heard they’re putin’ together a Neighborhood Watch, similar to what we got here in Diamond City.”

Piper nodded, scribbling on her pad in barely-legible letters. Nick paused to let her catch up, watching her absorb herself in her work. He wondered if that was what he looked like when he was pouring over case files.

The interview lasted for over an hour, ending with Nick inviting Piper over to the Dugout Inn to introduce her to the Bobrov brothers (and to treat the skinny orphan girl to a meal.) Never once did she mention his synthetic nature, nor did she ask about his past. Part of him knew she was biding her time, there was that journalistic glint in her eye that hinted at a deep curiosity, but she was polite enough to save the more personal questions for later. It was the first time in a while Nick had been treated so much like a person.

Nick pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out louder than any he'd fired before. The bullet nailed Nate in the back of the head, causing him to lurch forward as he fell face first into the forest floor. The leaves settled; Nate didn't move. Nick lowered his pistol, staring at the body of a man he'd mistakenly thought was his friend. The sound of the shot reverberated through the woods, bouncing off trees and echoing in Nick's auditory processors.

The gun ended up back his holster, barrel of the crude pipe-pistol still trailing up smoke. Nick looked at the man face down in the dirt, letting his visual systems perform a cursory scan for signs of life. Not even a twitch. Nick ran his good hand over his face and sighed.

"Christ," he muttered, fingers curled in frustration and dragged them down his face. "Damn… shit."

Nick looked back at the body, feeling nothing for the monster he'd gunned down. He pulled the rim of his hat down over his eyes and turned around, ready to walk back towards town.

Nate laughed.

Nick's walk of shame came to a sudden halt; the sound of leaves rustling as Nate pulled himself up off the ground filled the air. "Well shit," He said, hand coming up to touch the blood on his forehead. Dark red lines ran down his face, staining his lips and they curled up in a smile. "You think you know a guy…"

Nick barely had time to react. He turned around just in time to be tackled by the impossibly fast man. He didn't even have his gun out of the holster - Nick reached up and raked his metal claw of a right hand across Nate's face, aiming for the eyes. He pushed Nate off of him, scrambling to get to his feet. He wasn't built for combat, but he could slow down his processors to give himself an edge over most biological opponents. It did almost nothing against Nate; the man was inhuman in his movements. Nick got his gun in hand but before he could fire off another shot Nate had him by the wrists, yanking the synth's arms painfully back against the socket. Nick yelled and was forced to drop his weapon.

The two broke apart from their death grapple, Nate panting and Nick reeling internally to keep up. The man's black hair ran down from his tied-back hair, sticking to the blood on his face in frizzed clumps. Nate chuckled, still gasping for air. He reached into his jacket for a pair of brass knuckles with home-make spikes. "So," Nate snarled, "this really how you want to go out?"

"If it's the last thing I ever do, Nate, you're going to pay for what you did to Piper," the synth hissed. Nick lunged at Nate, aiming for his neck. Nate shrugged off the attack with a side step and an elbow to Nick's torso. Nate wrapped both hands around each other and slammed down on Nick's shoulder, throwing him off balance before pinning him to the ground. Nick turned, scrambling for his discarded gun. The brass knuckles came down on Nick's jaw, tearing the synthetic skin and damaging the delicate machinery there. Nick grunted, but managed to get his fingers around his pistol. He turned, propping himself up by his elbow to unload his last 5 shots into Nate's chest and neck. Nick might as well have been shooting a wall for all the good it did.

The brass knuckles came back down on Nick's jaw again and again, knocking the synth flat on his back. Nick's sensors screamed in warning, flooding his mind with signals that half of his face had been torn away. He felt the sting and the cold of his skeletal jaw exposed to the elements. Nate hovered over him as he reeled from the damage, panting hard as he rose back to his feet.

Nate took advantage of Nick's sensory overload to bring his foot down on the synth's chest, tearing through his undershirt and exposing his synthetic plates. He kicked away the plastic there as if Nick were little more than a can of cram. Nick tried to scramble back on the heels of his hands, but Nate's foot came down on the freshly-exposed wires of his chest, the pressure pinning him down and flooding his system with agony.

Nick cried out. There was no helping the involuntary response. His insides were far more sensitive to damage than his outsides, and his systems translated that through his neural network as pure agony. Nate seemed to delight at the newly discovered weak point in the synth; he ground down with his heel, tearing the wires out of place and snapping delicate components. Nick choked on a scream.

"I really didn't want things to end this way, Nick," Nate chided. "It's not too late to go back to the way we were." The offer was followed by a jerk of Nate's foot, digging deeper into Nick's wires and an agonizing, overly-full feeling in Nick's middle. Nick grit his teeth, raising his head to glare at the man who had him pinned.

"Go to hell!" Nick spit.

Nate shrugged. "Ah well, have it your way." His foot yanked back, ripping several wires out from Nick's center. Coolant flooded his system and his vision blinked. Before Nick could react, Nate stomped down directly on his power core, cracking the casing with an electric jolt through Nick's system. He couldn't remember a single instance of pain worse than the feeling of electricity freely flowing through him, energy fading fast as every single internal system shorted and failed at once. Nick seized, sputtering and jerking as Nate kicked down again, cracking his core and initiating Nick's final shutdown procedures.

Critical failure imminent, entering semi-permanent hibernation. Shutting down higher processes.

The last thing Nick saw before the world went dark was Nate staring down at him, smiling and laughing as the lights went out in Nick's eyes.

---

Nick’s processors came back online as if not a single second had passed since he was put down. The stiffness and rust in his joints begged to differ.

"What on earth…?" he dragged a hand down his face, eyes still closed. He flinched when he felt the part of his face that had been torn off courtesy of Nate's strong left hook. He could only imagine what he looked like now. Nick blinked, but his optics weren't functioning yet, so it just made the darkness he experienced all the more prominent. "Hello? Anyone there?"

"Nah, you're just imagining me," A new voice rang from Nick's side. A hand rested on his shoulder, urging Nick to stay laid down. "Turns out synths can go schizo too."

Nick furrowed his brow. He recognized the voice. "Deacon?"

"Bingo! Get the synth a prize!" the sound of Deacon's laughter filled the room

It had been a long time since he'd seen the man. Nick was one of the few people Deacon couldn't fool with his disguises - thanks in part to Nick's advanced optics - so it gave Nick the unique opportunity to befriend the man who knew everyone in the Commonwealth but no one had ever really met. So far, Nick hadn't been tempted to take up on that offer. It wasn't that he disliked the man or thought he was a bad guy (in fact, Nick was almost positive he was pretty high up in the Railroad, which was a cause he could get behind as an escaped synth himself) it was just that when he wasn't putting on an act Deacon was… well, annoying.

Regardless, Nick would put up with him for now. It appeared the man of mysteries had saved Nick's life, since there didn't seem to be anyone else around and the last thing Nick recalled was having his power core crushed by a megolomaniacal jackass.

Nate.

"Shit," Nick muttered, hand over his bare mouth. He hated the way he could feel his teeth against his palm. "Nate… that bastard got away."

"Heh, yeah, he sure did…" There was something deeply depressing hidden behind those words. Nick felt a tug on something in his chest and his systems threatened to power off again. He sucked in a breath reflexively - a hold over from his lost humanity.

"The fusion core should be able to support basic operations on this unit," A new voice, this one far more curt and masculine than Deacon's. Nick frowned at being referred to as a 'unit' - then remembered he didn't have the synthetic muscles to do that any more. Christ, no wonder the new guy didn't think he was a person - depending on how much damage there was there might not be much left that separated Nick from the mindless Institute drones appearance-wise.

Vanity aside, there was something else more important in what had just been said.

"Fusion core?" Nick said, turning to face the direction of the voice. "Are you tellin' me I'm running on fusion power right now?"

"Affirmative," the clinical voice said after a brief hesitation. "I am adapting your systems to accommodate for the change in source power. There are a few more optimisations that need to be in place before you are functioning at full capacity." Nick felt a hand in the hole of his chest redirecting the wires.

"Right - and who are you again?" Nick said, leaning his head back against what he assumed was a table. "Not to be ungrateful, but I prefer to at least know the name of the guy performing system wide changes to my person."

Deacon snorted. "That's fair - I prefer it if the guy at least buys me a drink before rooting around in my insides," Deacon said. Silence filled the room until he decided to answer the question for the other man. "This is Paladin Danse - he's another one of Nate's discarded 'pet projects'."

"Former Paladin," Danse corrected. Paladin? So he was Brotherhood, then? That explained his expertise with fusion technology, and his stiffness about talking with a synth. Danse unscrewed the casing around Nick's central nervous system. Nick grit his teeth at the buzz it gave him, but apparently auxiliary power didn't reach his diagnostic system, so he was spared from the worst of the pain.

"Pet projects?" Nick prompted. "What has that bastard been up to since he tried to off me."

"I'd say he more than 'tried'," Deacon said. "You've been offline for the better part of two years, old friend."

Nick started, emotions churning under his exhausted systems. "Two years?" he said. Deacon made a noise of conformation.

"Welcome to the year of 2289, bud! Diamond City is a police state, Goodneighbor is back to complete and total anarchy, and just about everywhere else is some degree of hell-on-earth - and we owe it all to our mutual sociopathic murder-friend." Deacon's voice was as cheerful as ever, but there was a undercurrent of cynicism that Nick didn't recognize in the man. Something had changed for Deacon personally in the past two years. It seemed for a moment that Deacon wasn't going to elaborate, but thankfully Danse took over for him.

"Deacon told me that you and Nate were close before he turned on you," He said as he messed with Nick's insides. "It is my understanding that he murdered someone one who was… friends… with you?" Nick could hear the many, many levels of discomfort this man had over talking to a synth. Guess you could take the man out of the Brotherhood… Deacon must have given Danse a crash course on synth rights, since the former Paladin was at least willing to operate on him and explain the bare minimum of what was going on. What a member of the Railroad was doing hanging around with a Brotherhood soldier - ex or not - was it's own mystery.

"He did," Nick answered the question posed to him. "Piper. A reporter from Diamond City. They'd been dating for a couple months, but I guess he got bored and decided that a break up was just too much work, so he killed her." Nick's voice was spitting with malice by the time he reached the end of his story. He felt the hands inside of him twitch as he spoke - an emotional response.

"I'm… sorry for your loss," Danse said, clearly uncomfortable with a synth expressing emotions. "Nate has ruined a lot of lives, and ended even more prematurely."

"The guy's a downright bastard," Deacon agreed.

Danse continued. "Deacon informed me of your history with Nate because he believes it may make you a valuable asset-"

"Ally," Deacon corrected.

"-to our cause."

"And what cause would that be?" Nick asked.

"We're gonna take that Sole Surviving fuck down," Deacon said darkly. Something about the man had definitely changed, there wasn't a doubt about it left in Nick's head.

"Ambitious goals," Nick raised a brow. "Can't imagine how much use a barely-functioning old synth will be, but if there's any way I can help you can count me in. I made a promise to Piper that I intend to keep."

"Excellent," Danse said. He twisted something in Nick's spine and his eyes flickered to life. His vision was duller than before, almost like he was looking through an old terminal rendering, but at least he could see again. Power began flooding his limbs and Nick felt energy surge through him unabated. "Is this sufficient for basic functions?" Danse asked.

"Might be a bit much, actually" Nick admitted, testing out a flick of his wrist. The motion was faster than he wanted. Danse nodded and adjusted the settings. While he worked Nick thought of something. "Stop me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't we be better off teaming up with one of your two 'connections' to take down Nate?"

The pair shared an uncomfortable look between the two and Nick felt his heart (or whatever counted for it) sink.

"If it's the Brotherhood you are referring to," Danse said, voice low, "then that would be impossible. They're gone."

"Same with the Railroad," Deacon said, looking away from them both.

"Gone?" Nick asked. He flinched as one of his wires was snipped. "What do you mean gone?" After the entrance they made into the Commonwealth, Nick didn't exactly expect the Brotherhood to just pack up and leave quietly. And as for the Railroad…

"We mean gone, Nick," Deacon said. "As in gone, destroyed, deceased, dead, departed, no longer in existence." Nick stared at Deacon. There was a barely noticeable tremor in the man's arms; Deacon wasn't the type to get emotional, but that didn't mean he didn't have emotions. As far as Nick could tell, the Railroad had been Deacon's family, likely the only people who actually knew him as himself and not as some alternate persona.

"Jesus. I'm sorry," Nick said to the man. Deacon shrugged.

"The Brotherhood was eliminated as well - taken down from the inside by Nate," Danse continued as he finished up the adjustments to Nick's new core. "He was granted an honorary emergency Knighthood in the hope that he would assist us in infiltrating and neutralizing the Institute."

"An honorary Knighthood?" Nick said skeptically. "I've never known the Brotherhood to be particularly liberal with their granting of titles."

"He had… assistance in acquiring Brotherhood support," Danse said, voice thick with an attempt to hide his guilt. "Among the ranks of the Brotherhood there was a synth infiltrator - Nate befriended him- it- and used the connection to get closer to Elder Maxon." Nick felt the excess of power ebb and sighed, allowing the ex-soldier to replace his chest plate before sitting up.

"Mhmm," Deacon hummed as Danse finished his story. "And are you going to mention the fact that the 'synth infiltrator' was you, or should I?"

Nick had to admit - he hadn't seen that coming. He looked back at the ex-Paladin, whose teeth were grit and eyes firmly planted on the ground. He would have never guessed the man was a synth - judging by the look on his face, neither had he. Being the way Nick was had its drawbacks, but at least he never had any delusions about his synthetic nature. This poor bastard must have just found out recently.

"I was unaware of my status at the time," Danse said, confirming Nick's theory. "However, that is no excuse. Subconsciously, I must have been aware that my actions would lead to the destruction of the Brotherhood. After I avenge them, I fully intend to face the consequences of my betrayal - unintentional though it was."

"Oh come on, man," Deacon whined with a roll of his eyes, "you're not some kind of Institute sleeper-agent. Nate tricked you. He tricked all of us."

"That's one theory," Danse said, packing up his tools. Nick threw his legs over the side of the table and tried his hand at standing up, thankful that despite lacking a shirt he still had his pants, which made the process far more dignified than it would have been without them. His internal gyroscope was offline, giving him a sense of synthetic vertigo. He kept a hand on the workbench, adjusting to his new stage of being.

"How long is the fusion core going to last?" Nick asked. He was under no delusion about the state of his body. Fusion cores were more like batteries than the self-sustaining generator his previous core was - the average core could keep power armor going for about half a day at most. Nick was far less energy-intensive than a suit of armor, but there was no telling how his systems would react in the long term. His life expectancy had at least been cut in half, likely more than that.

"It's hard to say," Danse told him. "It can be replaced, and will most likely have to be changed out rather frequently.”

“How frequently are we talkin’ here?” Nick asked.

“There’s no way of knowing for sure,” Danse admitted. “Because you weren't designed for fusion power there's no way to gage the charge without removing it."

"Fantastic," Nick grumbled, already imagining a life of constant, unpredictable shut downs. Still, better than being dead, he supposed.

Danse handed Nick a shirt and his coat and hat, all of which he gratefully accepted. Covering up his new chest wound was a start to feeling back to his normal self, but one glance at his face in Deacon’s sunglasses said that he was going to have to take up wearing scarves if he ever wanted to feel a shred of dignity again.

“So,” Nick said, still rubbing at the metal now taking up the space where his jaw should be. “What’s the plan for putin’ Nate on ice?”

Deacon smiled, as though laughing at his own internal joke. “Heh. Ice. Funny you should mention that…”

#fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic #fallout 4 fanfiction #fo4 fanfiction #Nick Valentine #fallout 4 companions #the black widow's waltz #his time in the commonwealth

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 4 years

Text

mystic meadow and the sweet spot

pairing: harry styles x reader (farmers market au)

warnings: anxiety, awkwardness, shy!baker!harry, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, cockwarming

word count: 6.8k

synopsis: harry hates working the farmers markets, but the girl in the kombucha booth is cute

author’s note: hope you enjoy! xx all the love

masterlist

—

Harry used to hate working the farmer’s markets; there was so many people, so many awkward encounters, and so many stupid questions. The heat of the midsummer didn’t help either. He hated having to set the booth up and take it down, with the help of nothing more than an inadequate coworker, who spends most of his time on his phone or flirting with the other vendors. He hated working the markets, which is why he honestly contemplated quitting when his boss told him that he was scheduled to work the new rounds of the summer circuit, but the pay was double what he was normally making, in addition to mileage compensation.

It’s been a couple weeks since the market season began; every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, he has to set up his booth, put on a fake smile, try to sell as much as he can, and take the booth down, only to start it all again the next day in a different location. It’s exhausting, draining.

Today isn’t as bad as others. Cas, his poor excuse of a coworker, hadn’t even bothered showing up, but other than that, Harry hasn’t had any rude customers, and Andy, the guy who owns the spirits booth, gave him a couple bottles for cheap. By the end of the day, he sold most of the product, with only a few pastries and macarons to save for tomorrow, which will be handed out as samples.

He’s nearly all packed up when a girl meanders over near his booth. A loose yellow tee hangs off her shoulder with pale pink lace peeking out from the top of her chest, and she offers Artemis, the elderly woman who works the soap booth next to him, a soft grin. They make eye contact, and she gives him a warm smile. Thinking she’s a straggler who doesn’t know the market is closed, he offers her a tight smile while not-so-subtly boxing up the remainder of baked goods.

“Hmm, macarons,” the girl mumbles, fingering at the blue and white plaid tablecloth. “Any good?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says softly. He has never been really good when it comes to small talk, which is one reason why he probably isn’t able to have any lasting relationships; he barely had any acquaintances, let alone meaningful friendships. He scratches the back of his head, beneath a wool beanie he apparently had to wear, even though it’s been burning hot all day. Sweat seeps into his hair, threatening to drip down his neck. She nibbles on the inside of her cheek. He slides the tray of eclairs onto the side table, wrapping it with a healthy amount of plastic wrap before placing it in the insulated tote.

“And you’re not just obligated to say that since I’m a potential customer,” she smirks.

“Would never lie to such a pretty girl,” he says, smiling. He honestly can’t believe that those words actually came out of his mouth. A blush makes its way from his neck, to his cheeks, to the tips of his ears, and he prays that she can’t see it. The sun is setting; dull oranges and pinks peek over the tops of trees and wrap around her like wings, bright and comforting. He wipes his forehead, trying to conceal his blush from her. Just by looking at her, he’s sure that she wouldn’t even bat an eye at the rosy flush to his skin, but his stomach still balls up.

“Smooth,” she says. “You come here often?” Regret passes over her features as soon as she asks that, brows furrowing and head shaking. “Sorry, that sounded stupid. I just haven’t seen you. It’s normally Ryan or Cas,” she explains. She starts folding the tablecloth when Harry packs the final trays of pastries away.

“Well, Cas didn’t even show up today.” Harry can’t help the bitterness that seeps into his voice. He doesn’t mean to dump all of his anger on this poor girl, but she’s looking at him with such understanding eyes, it’s hard not to completely break and rant about everything that’s been building up. She hands the cloth to him, which he takes with an appreciative nod. “But, yeah, ‘ve been workin’ this fo’ a couple of weeks,” he says. Feeling like he’s being a little too standoffish, he offers her a smile, nudging the tray that caught her eye toward her. “You like macarons?”

It takes a bit for her to answer, and she bites at her lip, fingers wringing together. The skin of her palms are stained a pinkish-purple.

“Yeah,” she says. “They’re my favorite.”

“Here,” he says, scrambling to get a box. He digs into the tote, easily ripping into the plastic wrap. “Take some. Better you than me. ’Ve had enough sweets to last me the rest of my life.”

“Thanks.” She takes the box of pistachio-honey, raspberry-basil, and orange cream. “Pretty,” she says, fiddling with the gold ribbon he tied around it and already picking at the label. She lingers for a little bit, like she’s waiting to find something else to talk about, fingers tapping nervously on the table top. “I, uh,” she stutters, gesturing toward the booth across the way from his and a little to the right, “work the kombucha stand over there.”

It’s a large booth with large, draping black curtains shifting. If the wind catches it just right, he can see streams of warm colors painted on them, layered and bold. Two men are taking down a large banner that says ‘Mystic Meadow Kombucha’ with the outline of a bull’s skull beneath it, wildflowers winding around it. It seems to be more extravagant than Harry’s setup, with 3 large kegs in the front, decorated with fake vines and flowers.

“D’ya paint?” He asks suddenly, gesturing toward her hands.

“I do, but these are from some beets. We were testing new flavors, and I, well—” She bares her hands, laughing lighty, “I wasn’t careful enough.”

“I see.”

“So, I’ll see you around,” she says after a minute, offering him a shy smile. Before she walks away, she raises the box of sweets with gratitude. “Thanks, again.”

“See ya,” he says, eyes lingering on her, watching her skip back toward her booth. One of the men looks at Harry and smirks, nodding knowingly. The rest of the night, he finds his gaze wandering back over to her booth. A couple of times, she catches his eye, and when they leave, in an old van with a flaking paint job that wobbles over every bump in the road, she waves at him.

It’s ten at night before he gets back to the bakery, the sun long gone, but the dry heat still hangs heavy in the air. Marty, the owner, is still in the office counting the money for the night that she probably wasn't able to get to earlier. It’s a fairly small operation, with only two baristas, two managers, Marty and Ryan, and two bakers, himself and Cas, who probably won’t have a job after today’s no-call-no-show. Harry leans against the doorframe, handing her the bank pouch.

“‘M headed out,” he says. “See ya tomorrow.”

“How was it?” She asks before he can leave. He turns around.

“Wha’?”

“The market,” Marty supplies. “Is it still as bad as you thought?”

“Today was better than others,” he says vaguely, his mind wandering to the girl at the kombucha stand. A smile plays on his lips. Marty cocks a brow, leaning back in her chair.

“So you wouldn’t mind working next week?”

“Nah,” he says, “Tha’s fine.”

That night, he dreams of a girl, with pretty eyes, a yellow t-shirt, and stained hands.

In the weeks following their first encounter, Harry takes the time to visit the kombucha girl before the market opens, and at the end of the night, she stops by to get a box of leftover baked goods. He’s learned a lot of things over the past few weeks: her name is Y/N, she’s the daughter of the owners of Mystic Meadow, her main jobs being selling at local markets and businesses and coming up with the different flavors, she’s working on her bachelor’s degree, she’s single (Harry found it difficult to contain his joy when she told him that), and she’s an all-around sweet girl, who’s wonderful with people.

Harry also found out that he hates kombucha.

But that doesn’t stop him from getting one every time he stops by. It’s normally before the market is actually open to the public. She just gets so excited whenever he tries a cup of the newest flavor, normally an odd mixture of spices or herbs with vinegar and a fermented fruit flavor—it’s not even good fermentation, like with alcohol— it tastes absolutely horrid, but Y/N looks at him with such hopeful eyes the first time he has a sip; he couldn’t bear seeing the disappointed look in her eyes, so he accepts the little plastic cup from her, nodding thankfully, and takes it back to his booth, where it will sit for the remainder of the night, untouched and dripping with sweat, leaving faint rings on the tablecloth.

“I brought you something,” she says to him one afternoon.

It’s early August, the sun at its peak, beating down on his black tee; he really needs to learn how to dress for such heat.

“Yeah?”

She lugs a black glass bottle from the cooler in the far corner of the booth, hidden behind the wooden chair for her. Her smile stretches from ear to ear; it’s hard to contain his own, but why would he want to? When you’re in the presence of beaming sunlight, you shouldn’t shy away, rather, embracing it because you never know how long it’s going to last. Her finger is hooked in the small hole near the top, and she slams it down on the table, the decorated glass jar filled with inspirational quotes and stickers with the Mystic Meadow logo on them nearly toppling over. He clumsily grapples for it before everything falls.

“Sorry,” she laughs, rubbing the sweat that has already formed on the bottle. She holds it out for him to take. “It’s a growler of the pear and pink peppercorn,” she says, smiling. He takes it gingerly from her hands, turning it over and feeling the weight.

“Wha’?”

“You said it was your favorite,” she says, her grin falling slightly. His heart stops for a second. Guilt floods him as he smiles widely, dimples settling deep in his cheeks.

“Ah, yes,” he says. “Thank you.”

It’s quiet after that. Neither of them, he’s noticed, are very good at making conversation. Y/N is normally the one to initiate the pleasantries, but it still takes a little bit before they can actually get into a deep conversation. Sure, when they finally find a subject that the both of them are passionate about, they can talk for hours, like her paintings or his music, but the starting off is always difficult. Granted, that’s not abnormal for Harry; he’s never been much of a talker. He can fake it if he has to, but he’s a bit of a blundering idiot sometimes, and he’s learned that the less he speaks, the less likely he is to embarrass himself—especially when he’s around Y/N.

He’s been trying to find the courage to ask her out on a date for the past few weeks, hell, ever since the day they met, but of course: he hasn’t. Granted, he’s never had much luck in the dating scene, probably because he can’t flirt for the life of him. There are some times where something charming comes out randomly, but it’s soon followed by an uncomfortable silence, and he gets embarrassed.

He just needs to go for it. He knows that. He tells himself that every time he misses his chance, when he waits too long, and the window of opportunity is slammed in his face. Y/N is a wonderful match for him, and she’s too sweet to completely laugh in his face or flat out reject him.

But it’s still scary. His heart is in his throat, and his palms are sweaty. He wipes them on his jeans, noticing the slight tremor. He tucks them in the pockets of his jeans (yet another terrible clothing choice for such a hot day).

He just needs to do it, rip it off like a band-aid.

“Was wondering,” he blurts out, shifting nervously on his feet. “Do you have plans on Saturday?”

“No, do you have something in mind?” She looks at him with hopeful eyes, and he melts. He wishes he could be as comfortable as Y/N, to not be constantly worried about the approval and validation of the people around him. He wonders what it’s like to wear his heart out on his sleeve.

He wishes he could live like that.

“Uh, I have work,” he says, “but after, maybe, we could get dinner?”

“Sounds like a date.”

—

The Sweet Spot Bakery and Cafe is a cute little shop on a corner in downtown, ironically next to a nutrition store. A blue neon sign shaped like a mug flashes in the corner of Y/N’s eye. Rain pounds onto the red and gold striped awning, dripping onto the flooded concrete. There’s cute flower boxes beneath the windows, but the flowers look sad and droopy, the dirt splattering out with every powerful raindrop. Antique metal tables are stacked in the far corner, out of the rain. Y/N shakes off her umbrella.

A sweet chime sounds when she pulls open the door. Inside, the scent of coffee and sugar fill her senses. There is just something so comfortable about being in a bakery or even a cafe that always reminds her of warmth, of intimacy, of home. The shop is fairly empty, with an older man reading in one of the corners, snug in a velvet chair, and a couple quietly chatting on the other side, hidden behind a hanging plant, their legs crossed over each others’ on a leather stool.

An older woman greets her from behind the counter, obscured by a gold espresso machine. She’s short with graying black hair, brown eyes peeking behind horned glasses. Her red painted lips stretch into a smile.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?”

“Hi, is Harry here?”

As if he could hear her, Harry stumbles out from the back, the door swinging idly behind him. Flour coats his arms to his elbows, with a few stripes on his nose and forehead. The green bandana struggles to hold back his hair, curls slipping onto his forehead.

“Y/N,” he breathes out. He wipes his hands on the apron, a cloud of white billowing out. He coughs. He shoos the woman away and leans against the counter, his features impassive. To the untrained eye, he looks normal, fine, calm, even, but Y/N has learned how to read him; from the faint blush on his cheeks to the look in his eyes, which are unable to meet hers. He looks anxious, more so than usual, and there’s a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Sorry, I forgo’ to tell ya, but I’m scheduled to close tonight.”

“That’s fine.” She tries to hide the disappointment in her voice. “We can do this some other time, then.”

“I can take my break in a bit. Marty doesn’ really mind how long it takes. D'ya wanna sit? Be out in a minute,” he says quickly.

“Sure,” she says, nodding. She opts for the corner booth, away from the other customers. Harry comes out from behind the counter only a moment later, like he promised, clean with a large white mug clutched in one shaky hand and a white box, wrapped in a pretty gold bow, in the other.

“Here ya go,” he says, sliding a large mug toward her. Foam sloshes over the edges and onto the table, wetting the napkin under the cup as well as her hand. He curses under his breath, grappling for the napkin dispenser. A poorly shaped face made with cinnamon smiles up at her, and she wants to aw at the sight, her lips pouting.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wiping her hand with a stale paper napkin.

“It’s fine, H,” she whispers, placing her hand on his.

He doesn’t really know why he’s so nervous (more nervous than usual). It’s not like this is his first time meeting her; they’re comfortable with each other, and they joke around, and he also knows that she’s interested because of how understanding she was when he told her that his shift changed, or maybe that is a sign that she’s not interested.

He really needs to stop overthinking these things.

He’s a grown man. He should be able to talk with her without his hands clamming up or his heart beating out of his chest. Maybe it’s the pressure of it being defined as a “date” that makes it even worse. He just hopes that he doesn’t psych himself out.

“Thank you.” She grins.

“No problem. Remembered that ya told me once that you liked honey and cinnamon.”

Her heart swells at his words. Even though Harry puts on an uneasy exterior, he’s very attentive and loving. None of her exes would have remembered how she took her coffee after she mentioned it once.

“Sorry,” he says again suddenly, looking at the sad excuse of a smiley face on her drink. “Don’ normally work the front unless it’s too busy.”

“You should. Such a pretty face, I can’t keep it all to myself.” She pinches his cheek, and he shys away, swatting at her hand playfully. He nudges the box toward her.

“Macarons. Your favorite,” he says, and she nudges it to the side, taking a large gulp of the coffee.

“How’s it been today?” She asks, rubbing some of the foam off with her thumb.

“Slow,” he admits, breathing out shakily. His feet tap nervously on the floor, tapping back and forth, from heel to toe.

“Hey, it’s just me,” she says, placing a gentle hand on his. “No need to be nervous.”

“Right,” he says, nodding. “I jus’ feel like I should apologize again. I should’ve said something to you about my shift change.”

“It’s no problem, Harry,” she reassures him.

“I just got promoted. Marty needs help with orders and stuff, so I’ll be the bakery manager, now. She wanted me to close as a part of my training.”

“That’s great,” she smiles, lacing their fingers. He stares at them, his thumb tracing over her knuckles gently. Her skin is calloused and warm. He tugs her hand up to his lips, and she gives him a shy smile.

“You’ll still be working the markets, right?”

“Ya can’t get rid o’ me tha’ easily, lovie,” he smirks.

“Good.”

They talk for a good ten minutes, but the conversation is no deeper than the short interactions they normally have at the markets.

Harry wishes that wasn’t the case.

“Harry,” Marty calls from behind the counter, interrupting them. “A timer’s going off. What’s it for?”

“Oh, um—” He stands up, looking at Y/N with apologetic eyes. “I promise I’ll make it up to ya. Tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she says, downing the last of her drink and gathering her things.

“Brunch? I’ll text ya?”

“Harry,” Y/N calls out after he slips behind the counter.

“Yeah?”

She presses a quick kiss to his cheek, not missing the red forming on his neck.

“See you tomorrow.”

She gives him a wink before leaving. Harry stands, stunned in silence, his fingers tracing the warmth lingering from her lips.

“Whipped,” Marty mutters, a soft smirk toying on her lips.

“Shut up,” he scoffs.

“I’m not judging. It’s cute, H.”

“I don’ need this, ‘kay?”

She throws a wet towel at him, catching his leg before the door to the back closes.

—

As promised, they had Sunday brunch, with bottomless mimosas and American biscuits, something he still isn’t used to, with jam and poached eggs. Y/N, who is a lot bolder when she has some alcohol in her, chattered on and on about her friends, her parents, and her classes. College never seemed like an option for him. He always held the belief that in his career choices, a baker or a musician, he doesn’t need a degree; you either have it or you don’t type situations.

But Y/N, the smart little cookie, loves school. She talked about how she may get an education degree, but one is plenty of work right now. She commended those brave enough to be in a double major. She asked him about his family and his job, mostly; he would rather listen to her than talk, so he kept his answers short and sweet.

Afterward, they went to the park, cliche as it seems, because even though he’s lived in the area for nearly five years, he never took the time to stop by any of the parks, and Y/N took full opportunity of this: she gawked at him, pulled him out of his chair at the bistro, and slammed some cash onto the table. He tried to argue with her, that he should at least leave the tip, since he was at fault for their date yesterday not going to plan, but she wasn’t listening.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been to any of the parks,” she said, tugging him along the sidewalk. “There’s a nice one around here, only a ten minute walk. It has a pond and that cute little playground equipment—you know, the tiny slides with tiny stairs for the little kids. Do you remember those?” She stops. “Should we get bread to feed the ducks?” She shakes her head, answering her own question. “No, we can do it some other time.”

They spend the rest of the day by the pond, people watching, another one of Y/N favorite past times. After dinner, Harry didn’t get home until after sunset and went to bed with a smile on his face.

The next day, Harry spends two hours contemplating whether or not it was too early to send a good morning text. He nervously rolled around in his bed before he accidentally sent the message. She responded quickly after, and they talked for the entire day (seriously, he didn’t get up unless he absolutely had to).

Tuesday, market day, comes around quickly, and Harry gets there earlier than usual, not so subtly waiting for the Mystic Meadow van to chug through the grass lot, and when it does, his heart speeds up, but he doesn’t recognize the girl that hops out of the passenger side.

His mind runs amuck, as usual. Even though they talked nonstop the day before, he thinks that maybe she’s not here because she doesn’t want to run into him, that she was annoyed by him already, his wariness and nerves. His heart skips a beat at the thought. He tries to reassure himself that there are so many other possible explanations, but his anxiety wasn’t having it.

It takes him a while to gather the courage to go over to the booth, and he tries to act as inconspicuous as possible, pacing slowly in front of the other booths, organic fruit, soap, paintings, and jewelry, until he’s at Mystic Meadow. The chalkboard sign that usually says Y/N’s name in fancy lettering says, ‘Florence will be helping you today’ instead. A girl with very long, very bright hair turns toward him. Thick blue eyeliner outlines her eyes, and smattering of freckles enlivens her pale skin.

“Can I help you?”

“Where’s Y/N?”

She looks taken aback by the question.

“Sick,” she answers slowly, brows furrowed.

“Oh,” he whispers. “‘M Harry,” he says. Her eyes widen suddenly, and she gives him a quick once over, leaning her hip against the table.

“You’re Harry?” She laughs. “We thought she was making you up.”

“Tha’s...” Harry doesn’t really know how to feel about that; it’s a cacophony of pride, excitement, and little anxiety. Pride for the fact that Y/N talked about him to her coworker (and potentially even more people, since Florence said “we”), excitement from the fact that Y/N seems very interested in him, and, of course, anxiety from this stranger's piercing gaze. He wonders what Y/N said about him; maybe she talked about how awkward he is or his gauky figure or his clumsiness—

“How sick is she?”

“Not too sick,” Florence says, winking.

“Oh, tha’s not—“

He hates the fact that he actually sounds disgusted, even though he honestly doesn’t mind the thought of it. Sure, Florence is right; he wouldn’t mind being with Y/N in that way, but that’s beside the point. They have only been out on two dates, and the first one was at his work, of all places, so he doesn’t really count that one. He wants to take their relationship slow.

“I’m messing with you,” Flo laughs, crossing her arms, “Although, it is nice to see a grown man blushing.”

“‘M not blushin’,” he says, wiping at his cheeks petulantly. “Uh, is Y/N alright? How sick—” He swallows thickly. His skin heats up even more, struggling to find his words. He’s trying to figure out how to ask where Y/N lives without sounding like a stalker. Maybe he should just ask Y/N himself.

“Where, um, does she—”

“Here,” she says, chuckling. She rips a piece of paper loose from under the register box and writes down an address with looping script.

“Thanks.” He leaves the booth with a quick nod, the paper clutched tightly in his sweating palm; hopefully, it doesn’t smudge the ink.

“Hey, Harry,” she calls out. He turns. “You’re a good guy. I’m glad she met you.”

If he wasn’t blushing before, he sure as hell is now.

—

Y/N looks worse for wear when she answers the door to her apartment, eyes tinted red with exhaustion, puffy and droopy, and she sniffles, a stuffy breath slipping through her lips. She’s wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. Her eyes widen, and she tries to hide slightly behind the door when she sees that it’s him.

“What are you doing here?” She squeaks.

His nerves spike again, worried he’s intruding or maybe it was too soon for him to start showing up at her house unannounced, when he’s never even been there before (he knew asking Florence for her address was a bad idea). They have only been on a couple of dates, and now, he probably ruined any chances he had with her by acting impulsively and like a total creep.

“I asked Florence,” he answers softly. “Said you were sick.” When tears fill her eyes, he’s sure she’s going to yell at him for disturbing her and tell him never to come again. He doesn’t think he’s ever regretted anything so much; his skin is hot, his racing heart sinking into his stomach. “‘M sorry. I jus’ thought, since you were sick, you may wan’ some company. I’ll leave, sorry, sorry—”

“No,” she says, grabbing onto his arm before he can leave. “I’m sorry for freaking you out, but…” Her throat closes, and she tries her hardest to not start ugly-crying, but with Harry standing on her front porch, visibly drained from work, arms full of grocery and pharmacy bags, makes it very hard not to break. It’s exhausting having to take care of yourself when you’re feeling ill, and with Harry simply there, and knowing that he was thinking about her, makes things so much easier.

“You’re so sweet, H,” she says, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“May I?”

“But—” She hesitates, nibbling at her lip. “I’m in my PJ's,” she says softly.

“And ‘m all sweaty from being in tha’ sun all day,” he smiles. He lets himself in, thick boots thundering on the hardwood. “I came straight from, but I did pick up some soup and Sprite and tea. Hope you have honey and lemon,” he rambles, tugging everything out from the bags.

“Wasn’t real sure what kind of sick ya were, so…” He scratches the back of his neck. “I got everythin’.” He gives her an awkward tight smile.

“Thank you,” she sighs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. “Do you wanna shower? I’m sure I have some clothes that can fit you.” She guides him to the bathroom, laying some towels and clothes into his arms. “The shower head screams sometimes so don’t be worried. It normally stops if you wiggle it a bit.”

“Thanks,” he smiles. Her shower is filled with dozens of half-filled soap bottles decorated the shelves and the little basket hanging from the shower head. The hot water is nearly all gone by the time he decides to use the no-more-tears strawberry shampoo. Her towels are warm and soft, softer than he thinks he’s ever felt before, and they’re big enough to nearly swallow him whole.

He finds Y/N in the kitchen with a warped mug, seemingly handmade, filled with steaming tea. She stares at the cap of medicine on the counter, breathing heavily. He can see the confliction on her features, one moment she’s nearly convinced that she doesn’t need it, that her body can take care of it overnight, but she also knows that if she didn’t take it, she’ll be in for one hell of a terrible night; then she remembers how awful it tasted the last couple of times she’s had to take it.

Her nose scrunches when she finally decides to down it.

“Thanks for the tea,” she says, “I was just about to head to bed.”

“Oh, uh,” he says nervously. “I don’ want to impose. I’ll leave. I jus’ wanted to make sure ya had everything ya needed.”

A part of him wanted her to invite him to be with her; that part that is touch starved and eager to be near her again wants to toss any worries to the side.

“As long as you’re fine listening to my coughing all night, I’m fine with you staying the night.”

She listens to nature sounds to go to sleep.

How cute is that?

For the first couple minutes, they were ocean sounds, but she didn’t like the seagulls; she had him switch it to rain after a little bit. She looked a little embarrassed when she started playing them, but Harry listened to music in order to fall asleep, so it’s really no different. He never thought about listening to nature sounds, but it’s definitely something he could get used to.

It takes them a bit to finally get settled together. They start on their own sides of the bed. Not wanting to push his luck and make her feel uncomfortable, Harry stays on his side, trying not to hoard too much of the blankets, with a pillow hugged to his chest. She’s afraid that he won’t like her being so close to him, given her current state of health. They stare at the ceiling stubbornly, one occasionally glancing over to the other.

Soon, the night-time medicine kicks in, and Y/N throws caution to the wind.

“Fuck it,” she whispers, rolling onto her side, one arm nestling underneath him with the other prying between the pillow. “You okay with this?” She looks at him with pleading eyes, and he smiles.

How could he say no to her?

“Definitely.”

And so, she snuggles deeper into his chest, eyes growing heavy at the feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp, the scent of strawberry shampoo and Vix lulling the both of them to sleep.

—

Kissing her is something he doesn’t think he could ever get tired of. The feel of her soft lips over his, with tongue and teeth, aching and messy, is addicting. He never understood why people liked kissing so much; granted he’s only had five other ones to go off of, only two of them ever lead to a full-blown make out session on his bed, but still; how much fun could it be to practically suck another person’s face off?

But he severely underestimated the power of Y/N’s lips. The first time he felt them was a couple days after he spent the night with her when she was sick. It was a quick little peck he gave her when he dropped her off at her apartment, and ever since, he was hooked. It still completely baffles how much he aches for her lips when he can’t see her, and when he finally gets his fix, it feels perfect.

He finds himself craving the taste of her tongue.

How can someone’s mouth taste good?

It’s December, now, the market season long gone, and he and Y/N have been together for nearly five months. It’s more serious than any of his other relationships. Obviously, that’s not saying much since he hasn’t had many, but Harry slowly found himself opening up more toward her, which is more than any of his other ones.

He nips at the skin of her neck, tugging off her tee, and he finds the hickey he left a couple days ago, just below the collarbone, tongue pressing lightly on the tender skin. She whimpers.

“Fuck me, H,” she moans. She’s wearing a pink, lacy bra, the same one she was wearing the first day they met. He slips the straps over her shoulders, leaving a trail of kisses behind it. Her head lolls back against his, and his hand finds its way to her neck, caressing the warm skin. He can feel her heart rate pick up.

She slips her pajama pants and panties down, kicking them across the room. She slips further down the sheet, his hands firm on her hips. He tugs her frail bra up over her head. He fondles her breast for a bit before his lips trail down the valley, his warm mouth wrapping around her tender nipple, tongue soft against the pebbling skin. Y/N feels herself melt into him, skin sensitive to every teasing kiss he leaves down her body.

“Hey, babe?”

He rests his chin on her tummy, the thin hairs coating his jaw ticking her skin.

“Yeah?”

A sweet smile crosses her face at the chills that cover her skin when he speaks, lips so close to her skin, her pussy throbbing. Her thighs twitch. She runs her fingers through his hair, fingers smoothing the flyaways down. He kisses her bellybutton.

“I love you.”

He isn’t expecting that.

He chokes a little bit, his throat closing up on him.

“What?” He lifts himself up, crawling back up her body, and she cups his face. “Really?”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek.

She’s not afraid that he won’t say it back. Hell, there's a part of her that doesn’t even expect him to say it back. (There’s an even smaller part that thinks that he’s just going to leave, but she doesn’t want to think of that). She’s not afraid because she knows that she needs to be the one to reassure him, to love him, to coax him out of his shell, and she’s completely willing to do that, to put forth the time and effort, because she is wholeheartedly enamored with him.

She waits for him to process everything; she can see the confliction in his eyes. Ever the worrier, Harry is thinking of the negative outcomes that can come if he goes about this the wrong way, but he doesn’t dwell on them for too long. He thinks of the mornings that he woke up in her arms, the afternoons they spent in tje park, a new tradition for them, the evenings they spent in contemplative silence, where she would paint his profile and he would serenade her with another love song, and the nights they spent making love.

Loving her is probably the easiest decision he’s ever made.

“Love you too, babylove.”

Y/N lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and she pulls his forehead onto hers.

He wants to thank her, for being patient, for being understanding, for loving him, for just being her, really. He doesn’t think she realizes how much of an impact she has on him.

She sits up and pushes him beneath her. He leans against the headboard. It’s cold against his hot skin, sweat slipping down the small of his back. They both struggle in pulling off his pants; he almost hits her in the head. She settles low on his thighs, straddling him, and her feet tuck beneath his calves. She spits on his cock, wetting the red tip, and strokes him slowly. He moans, pouting slightly.

“No teasin’.” He tugs her forward, until their chest to chest, his hands settling low on her hips, rocking her wet pussy back and forth over the length of his cock. Her clit rubs against the head, making her hips jolt within his grasp. He easily slips inside of her, his head knocking against the headboard. She teases him, still, just barely putting the head inside before pulling out slowly. It takes a couple more tries before she sinks fully onto him, a drawn out groan slipping past his lips. He pulls her back in for a kiss, fingers trailing along the curve of her spine.

“So deep,” she moans, her thighs twitching and quivering at his side. She caresses the skin of his belly, thumb teasing along the thin hairs.

“There ya go, baby,” he coos. “Takin’ me so well.” He sets his hand on her lower abdomen, feeling the little bump. “Can feel m’self,” he smiles. He waits for her to start moving. It takes a little longer than usual, probably from the lack of preparation, but she doesn’t let that stop her. She moves her hips back and forth, wiggling about to find that one special spot.

He thrusts himself into her, and she nearly collapses completely onto him, with a broken whine breaking from her chest. Hands gripping her fleshy ass, he moans against her neck. She tastes of sweat and cherries, addicting, and she grinds harder into him, hands gripping the headboard, which hits the wall with every move of her hips. The mattress creaks noisily beneath them, but they can barely hear it over the sound of each others’ moans of pleasure.

“Love you,” he says against her lips.

She breathes out her response, a pledge of her own love; it’s weak, but that’s no surprise, since she struggles for air when he bucks his hips, hitting the deepest part of her. The aching in her chest only adds to the pleasure, the burning fire in her stomach. Her arousal slips down to his thighs.

“‘M gonna come, babylove,” he whines, skimming his nose over hers. Her teeth nibbles his lips, riding him faster.

“Come in me, H, wanna feel you,” she says breathily. His arms quiver around her, squeezing her tight to him, his face digging into her neck. Her toes curl when he comes, his nails digging into her skin. She eases him through his high, cupping his cheeks and wiping the sweat from his forehead. She pulls his head to her chest, fingers carding through his curls; his heaving breaths leaves her skin wet. She moves up, whimpering softly, but he stops her, feeling some of his cum slip out onto his thighs.

“Hm, no, lovie,” he whines, wrapping an arm around her waist. He gently moves them onto their sides, while keeping his cock nestled deep inside her. “Wanna feel you.”

She loves being so close to him, warm and full. She’s never done this with anyone. It’s intimacy at its core, with Harry holding her so tightly against him. It nearly brings tears to her eyes. She’s so glad that she met Harry, so thankful that she took that leap of faith and talked to the cute guy at the baked goods booth, who had wise eyes and a nervous smile. She’s glad that she inched past that guarded exterior to find his soft, gooey middle. Harry kisses her forehead, shifting slightly, and her sensitive walls flutter around him.

“Feels good, baby,” she moans, rubbing along his waist.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah,” she says, still at a loss for breath, her fingers absently tracing over his inked skin. Goose pimples rise in their wake.

“I don’ like kombucha.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t like macarons.”

—

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #ellie writes #ellie writes fluff #ellie writes smut #gif not mine #credit to owner

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sandu-zidian · 4 years

Text

Blabbing about this Musician!au I started last summer that has now also turned into a marching band!au because I got sad and nostalgic because despite how shitty it could be, marching band defined my high school life and social life and I couldn’t had asked for anything else.

I also don’t have every single prequel character (because this au is surrounding the prequel characters) in Star Wars smacked into here, and I gave up halfway through a couple of months ago in terms of brainstorming. Anyways, this is hella long so check everything out under the line if you’d like! don’t want to spam everyone with something that’s like, 4 pages long

Now, you might be asking. What instruments are these characters playing, or what are they doing in marching band? well, boy oh boy do I have some lore for you.

Anakin Skywalker: alright lets start of with the “Chosen One”. Now, I gotta say. He’s got some intense brass vibes, specifically high brass. But I don’t know. He didn’t really mesh well. And given his natural talent with the Force in canon, I thought that Anakin would be a sort of prodigy. And we all know the two instruments associated with that: the piano and violin. He’s more of a piano dude, so here we go! piano prodigy Anakin Skywalker. He also gives mad drumline vibes, and I can see him as either the lead snare, setting the tempo, or the main quad player. He’s brash, slightly obnoxious, but damn is he fucking good at what he does.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: I literally started this AU on the idea that Obi-Wan would play the cello. One of the defining quotes for him is that fucking “infinite sadness” quote. And we all know that cellos play some of the saddest pieces out there. (see: Elgar cello concerto) However, I can’t see him as a marching band dude. He doesn’t really give off color guard vibes (since that’s where most non-band people go to) so I have him as the resident student helper who everyone tolerates because he brings ice cream after band camp.

Ahsoka Tano: Ahsoka is a flute player. As a flute player, I have intimate knowledge on this. She’s like the chill flute player who’s competitive enough to keep her position as principal, but is also chill enough to not have a big ego that butts heads with everyone. She also gives mad color guard vibes. Also speaking about that from personal experience (am I lowkey projecting my own experiences on her? you didn’t hear that from me). She seems like the type to love swing flags and sabre, and is 100% captain by senior year.

I have Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka as siblings in this AU because I say so. Qui-Gon is around here somewhere as the resident hippie dad who lowkey smokes pot and will support his children while giving a big ‘fuck you’ to Dooku.

Yoda’s also in here somewhere, and I love the idea that he’s an old Chinese/Asian man who refuses to speak english and will only do so with the most backwards grammar so his grandchild (Qui-Gon) and great-grandchildren (the trio) are forced to speak Mandarin/Cantonese to him (pick your poison). He just spends his days cutting up fruit and also might pull out his erhu if everyone asks nice enough. (I want to say he was a Peking Opera musician, but immigrated during Mao’s reign after he lost opportunities during the cultural revolution)

So, I know that it doesn’t make sense for a family to have 3 sets of twins and one triplet set, but fuck that I do what I want.

Cody Fett: okay so, Cody 100% plays the french horn. I don’t know, he just, he does. He’s got that air of sophistication because he can play the hardest brass instrument, but at the same time, he’s incredibly good at it and is matter-of-fact about it. He also would be the mello section leader (I was playing with the idea of drum major, but for now, leaving him as a section leader for now). He’s a bit uptight to be a low brass player, but cool enough to still be associated with the general brass group.

Rex Fett: I got Rex and Cody as the eldest Fett twins. Rex feels like a string player, so I have him on violin. I can see him be very hardworking and practicing diligently to the point where he easily sweeps through to concertmaster in high school and the local youth orchestra. He also gives of mad drum major vibes. I can see him copying music, handing out drill charts, and hauling the met around. Also, just think about Rex doing a fancy ass salute at competitions. Yes.

Next round of twins lets gooo

Jesse Fett: You could say Jesse has brass vibes. I see him as a reed person though. In concert band, he’s on clarinet. I used to think clarinets were as stuck up as us flutes but no they’re literally balls of chaotic energy ready to be unleashed. Just imagine Jesse blaming everything on his reed. I see him as the guy who switches to saxophone for marching band, though. He’s got the energy of the clarinet and the saxophone harnessed. Also, wouldn’t be surprised if he knows how to play the sousa.

Kix Fett: Y’know, when I originally made this AU, I had Kix as a musician as well. I’m gonna scratch that. He’s going to medical school, or at least, he’s planning to. He’s on the pre-med track and is dying in organic chemistry and wishes there weren’t so many pre-requisites. However, in high school, he definitely played the oboe. Of course Kix chose one of the hardest instruments to play. Also, just imagine him trying to make his own reeds. I don’t see him as a guy who’s in marching band. He’ll come to competitions and maybe football games if he’s bullied into it. Kix is the guy who’s classes are all AP and he’s dying inside.

Next round of twins yeet:

Fives Fett: shit, I forgot I gave them all real names. If I remember correctly, Fives is Frank. Anyways, trumpet vibes. Need I say more? He’s on the trumpet in marching band as well and he’s the dude who’s obsessed with DCI and always tries to play as high as he possibly can and absolutely demolishes his chops. I would say he’s section leader as well. He also hangs with the drumline at the back of the bus and always plays meme songs on blast and sends weird pictures to people’s phone via open airdrop.

Echo Fett: I think his birth name is Ethan??? I’m spitting thoughts not checking my old documents. Anyways. Echo feels like a string person. Specifically, low strings. So, he plays the bass. Upright bass. Whatever. You get what I mean. He sleeps in the case after school and hates hauling it everywhere. He was in marching band as a mello player (the easiest brass instrument to pick up for the activity so) but he was in a car crash that left him paralyzed from the hip down, and had to quit to recover. He never stopped playing, and found ways to adjust. (I do not know how exactly this would work, since I’m able bodied and also don’t play the bass, but I know he’d at least have a stool to sit on in order to lean his body on. let me know if you have other ideas i’d love to hear them!)

Finally, we got the triplets:

Dogma Fett: Dogma plays the bassoon. He’s a low reed kinda guy and between the bari sax, bass clarinet, and bassoon, he fits the last one the best. He and Kix moan over making reeds and he’s on the quieter side. He just vibes and plays all the low notes and has fun whenever he’s got some moving part. I see Dogma as someone who is only casually into marching band. He uses Jesse’s old student clarinet as his instrument and he’s always on time, knows his sets, and his technique is on point. He always finds himself roped into his brothers’ shenanigans though.

Tup Fett: Tup plays the harp. I like to think he met Shaak Ti (we’ll get to her in a bit) when he was young, and she was playing with an orchestra. He met her backstage and she offered to give him lessons. Tup’s not really a part of high school orchestra but sometimes he’ll be brought in. He’s more involved with solo work and the youth orchestra more than anything. Tup’s another on where I don’t think he’d be into marching band. Though I can see him being in winter guard as the dude who just shows up and is lowkey rip and therefore is a hunk on the rifle. His technique’s good but they’ve never been able to saddle him into fall guard.

Hardcase Fett: (i’ve given up on remembering the birth names so i’m just gonna not) Hardcase is 100% low brass vibes. He can’t be anything but a low brass. I see him as a tuba player. He’s chill, laid back, but also reliable for being the foundation of the band sound. He plays the sousaphone in marching band and always blasts either Seven Nation Army or some other popular show tune right after rehearsals. Hardcase also can play the bari sax and no one knows when he learned how to.

OKAY we’re done with the Fett’s! Jango and Boba are in here somewhere but honestly I don’t have enough brainpower to come up with what their roles are. Jango’s gonna be a good dad though. Maybe he was a musician and that’s why most of his kids are going into music. Or maybe he’s just a supportive father. Boba’s the youngest though, that’s for sure. And he’s a little shit. Don’t know if he plays an instrument (probably) or what it might be.

Now lets get into some other characters! There’s a lot. And I wasn’t even halfway done with the characters I wanted to include. What the hell was I on last summer?

Padmé Amidala: Padmé is a flute player who quit after freshman year of high school and started taking music production and music theory classes. She loved it so much that she decided that composing was her jam. Now, she’s highly successful and often works with well known pianist, Anakin Skywalker, on piano concertos. Also, she may or may not be dating said pianists but you didn’t hear that from me.

Satine Kryze: twosetters don’t shit on me but Satine feels like she’d play the viola. She and Obi-Obi-Wan definitely dated in high school but after a year broke up on mutual terms and are just good friends now. A lot of people feel like she’d have been a better political science/international studies major than a music major but she’s good so no one complains (until she gets into a fighting match with someone and wins smugly)

Bo-Katan Kryze: shes Satine’s younger sister and is a mad athlete. She doesn’t play any instruments but she’s deeply active and is on scholarship for college, on the pre-med track with Kix. She’s very scary and most people are too intimidated by her to approach.

Plo Koon: I originally had him as an asian man, but I can see Native American as well. He plays the euphonium and he’s just a sweet man. He helps out a lot with private lessons at local high schools and is often brought in to help with low brass during marching band.

Wolffe Koon: Wolffe and Gregor (get to him in a bit) were both adopted by Plo when their parents died when they were very young. Plo was their godfather and he took them in like they were his own. They’re cousins to the Fett brothers (though don’t ask me how I have no idea). Wolffe is an engineer and works close to home.

Gregor Koon: Gregor is Wolffe’s younger brother and had a short stint of musical interest in middle school but quit after he entered high school. Gregor was in a serious car crash during college that left him amnesiac for a year before some of his memories returned. He now owns a restaurant and sticks close to home. Wolffe often comes around to check up on him because his brain injury still impacts his current life in small physical and emotional dips

Kit Fisto: Kit gives off mad trombone vibes and it’s mostly because he seems incredibly laid back. He’s one of those brass players who’s just a nice guy and while jokes around, never got pulled into jokes as a student.

Shaak Ti: like I said above, Shaak Ti is most definitely a harpist. She has that ethereal quality I think is common in harpists. She’s a tall Indian woman and she loves her job! She’s a private lesson teacher and instructor at the conservatory on top of her job in the orchestra since she’s not called in often to play. She loves all her students and gives good hugs.

Mace Windu: Mace is the director of the Jedi Symphony, the orchestra which almost everyone is involved with. He is a bass player and he likes his more classical pieces over contemporary music. He’s good friends with Yoda and sometimes the old troll has to wack some sense into Windu and have him take on newer pieces. Windu 100% gives off unhinged director vibes because mistakes and lazy musicians definitely don’t end after high school/college is over.

Quinlan Vos: this lil shithead definitely is the obnoxious, slightly arrogant, but kind of deserving of that, percussionist. He loves his snare drum and is also in the drumline. He’s the same age as Obi-Wan and the two are close friends. Quinlan is definitely slightly unhinged and is always at the back of the bus causing havoc after competitions. He’s the guy that I (OP) hate but also can’t help but respect cuz yeah he’s annoying but at least he’s good.

Aayla Secura: Aayla is Quinn’s half-sister, and plays the French horn. Again, like Cody, she’s got this air of professionalism that I associate with French horn players and like, we gotta represent the girls in brass somehow. She just fits it really nicely.

I feel like now is the time to list who’s still in conservatory and who isn’t: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody, Jesse, Quinlan, Padmé, and Satine are all recent graduates. Ahsoka, Aayla, Fives, Echo, Tup, Dogma, and Hardcase are still in conservatory (at varying years of course). Kix and Bo are entering med school/frantically applying and banging their heads cuz MCATs. Wolffe and Gregor are older and have been in the field for quite some time now. Plo, Kit, Shaak, and Mace are all faculty/seasoned professionals.

Somehow, I was gonna bring in The Skiratas (with proper research cuz I know very little about them), Dooku, Ventress, the Oppress siblings, rest of Domino Squad, Cut Lawquene, the other CCs, and more. I designated a page out of my sketchbook for this and my oh my the flow chart was hella confusing. How I thought I was gonna handle that in the summer before my first year of college, I have no idea. Maybe I’ll brainstorm more in the future but for now, this is all I have :]]]

Also excuse some of my slightly unhinged language I started writing this a few days ago while slightly unfocused and tired and stressed so my language is a product of that

#star wars #meta #musician au #my thoughts #I miss marching band so fucking much #I miss DCI #and WGI #miss the community #even if it was pretty stressful at times cuz drama #people love their drama in band #I don’t blame them you get sick of people after band camp #star wars au

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umbry-fic · 3 years

Text

Beaches! And Dolphins! (And Arsonists!)

Summary:

Colette: Misella, come play at the beach with me! Misella: I appreciate the invitation, but I must decline. Misella: I have been informed that I am 'not the beach type'. Colette: What? But... the beach is so much fun!

Colette, Lloyd, Arche and Genis spend an afternoon at the beach. Shenanigans ensue.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia, Tales of Crestoria Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Arche Klein, Genis Sage, Raine Sage, Misella Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Arche Klein & Genis Sage Rating: G Word Count: 4789 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 20/07/2021

Notes+Warnings: A fun fic based on Colette's Crestoria summer alt. (Don't take this too seriously!) Arche and Genis are both wearing their Asteria summer alts.

Slight spoiler warning for a design change in Crestoria chapter 8. No spoilers for Lloyd's side story.

Credits to @likes-words-and-shrimp for inspiring the conversation at the start. Happy summer! ♥

~~~

“Oh god.” Arche spat out a mouthful of pineapple juice, fumbling and nearly dropping the glass she was holding, tiny umbrella and all, into the sand. She coughed into her free hand, desperately trying not to enter a wheezing fit. She had not expected to witness this today.

“Genis already warned me, but… Really, what possessed you to choose this?!” Arche asked in disbelief.

Genis and Colette, in Arche’s humble opinion, both looked adorable - Genis in swimming trunks and a pair of kitten flip-flops; Colette in a swimsuit dress, golden hair tied into a messy ponytail, and equipped with cute accessories that only added to her charm.

Then there was Lloyd. Who was wearing the loudest Hawaiin print shirt she had ever seen, paired with… shorts that were secured with a belt? These were the weirdest clothing choices she had ever seen. Who wore a belt when they were going to the beach?

Lloyd was very red and very noticeable, sticking out like a sore thumb on the beach.

At least he had made a sensible decision when it came to his footwear - he was wearing sandals. If he had chosen to wear covered shoes to the beach, Arche may have needed to bury Lloyd on the spot for his crimes.

Lloyd scowled, clearly not appreciating Arche’s gaping expression or Genis snickering behind her. His childhood friend had a hand on Arche’s shoulder, and it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing in laughter.

“It’s my favourite colour!” Lloyd protested, crossing his arms and glaring away into the distance. “Besides, how much more ridiculous is it than your silly hat, Arche?”

“Excuse me?” Arche retorted, straightening up in indignation. She adjusted the hat in question, which was not a hat at all. “This is a sun visor! Can’t you see it’s made of plastic? It’s a fashion statement. A fashion statement. And a practical one at that, because my sensitive skin needs protection! It’s miles better than your shirt!”

Arche glared back in full force, fire raging in her eyes. Despite her being a full three heads shorter than Lloyd, she appeared threatening enough to make Lloyd take a hurried step back.

“Alright, alright!” Lloyd conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t murder me.”

“I told you this was a horrible choice yesterday, Lloyd,” Genis gasped between snickers, bending down with his hands on his knees. His sides were in pain. “Anyone would have known that this was a horrible choice. Anyone except you! You should have been there when he tried it on, Arche.”

Genis had done more than just tell Lloyd. Upon seeing Lloyd step out of the dressing room, Genis had groaned and buried his head in his hands. For an entire hour. Colette had tried to get him to raise his head with wonderful motivational quotes like “You can do it!”, but ultimately failed to knock Genis out of his stupor.

“Honestly, I’m thanking my lucky stars that I already owned mine,” Arche replied drily. And her two-piece swimsuit was cute too! A win. “I was spared seeing this disaster unfold live.”

“I think it looks nice,” Colette spoke up, butting into the conversation with a sunny smile. “Red looks good on Lloyd. It’s like… How do I explain it… His colour?”

“See? All of you just have no sense of taste!” Lloyd said triumphantly, blushing a little as he scratched the back of his head, grinning from Colette’s compliment.

“I’d say love is blind. But you’re both blind,” Arche commented, shaking her head and patting Genis on the back. “Come on, Genis, let’s go get started on a sandcastle before these two idiots derail this whole day.”

Colette stared after the retreating back of her two friends, Arche holding her drink high above her head and Genis still letting out a final few peals of laughter. She turned back to Lloyd, blinking in confusion. “Love…?”

“JUST - Think nothing of it!” Lloyd blurted out, blushing harder until his face resembled his shirt. All in all, too much red. “They don’t mean anything by it! Shall we get going too? We only have until Professor Raine picks us up to enjoy the beach.”

“Alright!”

Colette still wanted to know what was up, but chose to drop the line of questioning in favour of getting started with this day of fun. Neither she, nor Lloyd, nor Genis, had ever been to the beach. How could they, having been confined to the limits of a single village for their whole lives?

This was her chance to experience the sparkling waters and pristine sands that every child was supposed to know and experience at least once. All with shining eyes, a ton of energy, and the company of her friends! Arche had promised to act as their guide to all things beach-related, boasting about her expertise in this rather strange area.

It was going to be great, and she couldn’t wait!

Colette spotted a familiar figure in the corner of her vision, standing some distance away on the golden sands. Was that…?

“I see Misella!” Colette chirped, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement from spotting her new friend. She hoped she could get to know her better - that was a favourite pastime of hers. “I’m going to go say hi!”

“The girl you met last night at the inn? Have fun! I’ll be waiting with...” Lloyd trailed off as he realised that Colette had already taken off, leaving nothing but a cloud of fine sand in her wake. “Ah, she’s gone…” he muttered, smiling fondly. “Just like her.”

Lloyd turned, following the footprints Arche and Genis had left behind. Might as well get started on learning some beach activities! Then he could help Colette ease into them.

He wanted to make this day as amazing for her as possible.

~~~

“Misella!” Colette called out, practically lunging at the other girl’s back in excitement. Misella, rightfully startled, turned around just in time for Colette to grab onto her hands instead of sending Misella face-first into the sand.

Hm? How strange, Colette thought. Misella was still wearing gloves.

Maybe her hands were sensitive to sand…? That was the only reason Colette could think of. Or maybe it was just a fashion thing! Arche would know. She’d ask her later.

“Oh. It’s just you, Colette.” Misella blinked, releasing the tension from her hunched shoulders.

“Sorry for startling you.” Colette giggled. “I’m glad you ended up coming to the beach! You said you wouldn’t last night...”

“Ah, Kanata wanted to come. He said this was a famous beach and it would be a shame if we didn’t visit it,” Misella replied with a gentle smile, her gaze drifting to a boy with blond hair, who was wearing a plain pair of swimming trunks and was busy lugging a bucket from the direction of the waterfront. Kanata’s hand was bandaged - was he injured? Oh, Colette hoped he’d get better soon!

“And… the rest of my acquaintances,” Misella continued, tone shifting from adoring to carefully neutral as her gaze slid further right.

Acquaintances? What a strange way of putting friends!

Colette followed Misella’s gaze... And had to pause to process what she was seeing.

A man with black hair stood next to a lady with light brown hair, both slaving away with shovels in hand. The man wore a Hawaiian shirt over a pair of swimming trunks, the shirt even more eye-catching than Lloyd’s, and unbuttoned to reveal a strange symbol on his stomach. The lady wore a two-piece swimsuit, together with a sun hat made from straw and a pair of dark sunglasses that fully obscured any view of her eyes.

But what Colette was more interested in was where the two were dumping the sand they were so determined to dig up. All of it, weight and all, was going onto a third person who was so obscured by the pile of sand covering them that only their head of silver hair was visible, together with two flailing arms.

And was that screaming?

“Don’t be worried, Colette. This is an activity known as burying someone in sand. It’s a tradition at the beach, and Aegis volunteered,” Misella said in a deadpan tone. “Yuna and Vicious are just helping him.”

“I… I see.”

“Your swimsuit is very cute,” Misella commented, turning so that she blocked the concerning view behind her. She pointed out the white petals nestled securely in Colette’s hair. “And the flower is very beautiful. Is it a lily? I must admit I’m not too knowledgeable on flower species...”

“Oh, thank you so much! Lloyd picked it out for me, and it is a lily! At least, I think so,” Colette replied, any thoughts about the person in the sand already forgotten. Her happy smile only grew wider as she recalled how Lloyd had gifted the lily to her on the way to the beach.

Lloyd had been shifting from foot to foot, unable to look her in the eye as he had offered her the freshly-picked flower, the petals still wet from the morning rain. She hadn’t understood why he had been feeling so nervous, but hadn’t wanted to probe him on it. She had, however, accepted the lily in the blink of an eye, letting him place it in her hair, his fingers brushing against the tip of her ear for a brief moment and making her shiver. Her heart was filled with warm happiness from his actions. She intended to cherish the flower for as long as she could, for it was a gift from Lloyd, and all gifts from Lloyd were precious treasures.

“Like my brightblaze…” Misella muttered to herself, fingers cupping the precious flower that continued to sit in her hair, no matter her outfit or agenda for the day. It would never leave.

“Yours is really pretty as well! So is your swimsuit. It’s elegant,” Colette said eagerly, wanting to return the compliment. Misella’s two-piece swimsuit with a skirt truly fit her!

“Thank you, Colette. And did you get yours from the same place as us? This…” Misella asked, fingers reaching out and brushing the inflatable float that snugly hugged Colette’s arm. The float didn’t resemble any normal ring float - it was shaped like Lloyd, complete with his large smile, spiky hair and red Hawaiian shirt. It was adorable, and Colette absolutely loved it. She would be keeping it forever, even if she never went to the beach again! Lloyd had said much the same about his float, who looked just like her, down to the exact outfit she was wearing right now.

Besides, who said she wasn’t allowed to wear the float even outside of the beach? She wasn’t opposed to proudly wearing it every day, no matter what anyone said to her.

“I see that you have a similar float.” Colette giggled, gently poking the Kanata-shaped float on Misella’s right arm, which complemented the one she could faintly see on Kanata’s arm. “Did the friendly man at the swimwear shop offer to make you a pair as he did with me and Lloyd?”

“The short man with the accent?”

“The very same! He was so nice.”

Colette clasped her hands together, hoping she’d be able to see that friendly man with the bushy beard again. She wanted to thank him one more time for the generous gift - the pair of floats had been completely free of charge, and the details were perfectly done!

She also wanted to just spend some time with him. He seemed like an interesting person, and Lloyd seemed to like him too.

“Ah, Colette,” Misella said, breaking Colette out of her train of thought. “Kanata is calling for me.”

“Oh! Then I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Sorry for cutting our conversation short…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Colette waved Misella’s worries away. “We can always keep talking in the inn tonight. My friends and I aren't going to be leaving till tomorrow. I hope you have a good time! I’ll be joining my friends now.”

“You too, Colette! Have a fun time!” Misella waved goodbye, yelling after Colette’s retreating back.

Colette really was doing a lot of running around today.

She hoped she wouldn’t trip and ruin something…

~~~

“Sorry about the sandcastle. I lost us the competition...” Colette sighed. She crouched and dipped her hand down, letting the incoming waves wash away the granules sticking to it. That wouldn’t be enough to rid her of all the sand clinging to her from her plunge through the sandcastle, but nothing was likely to do that except a dip in the ocean.

Neither would the water wash away the frustrated frown on her face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lloyd said, his gaze drawn to her, as it always was - watching the sea foam part around her hand; the sea flinging droplets into the air around her. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt. And what mattered was that we had a lot of fun, right?”

“Right!” Colette stood up, her frown fading away. Rivulets of water flowed down her arm and dripped from her fingertips. “I had a ton of fun!” She turned to face the azure waves, taking a step closer. Sunlight rippled on their surface, forming diamonds of pure gold that danced in merriment. “The waters here really are beautiful. They might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen. Apart from Pasca’s clearing, that is. Thanks for suggesting we come here, Lloyd.”

Lloyd walked further out so he was standing next to Colette, feeling the waves lap at his ankles and submerge his bare feet, his sandals having been abandoned in the protection of Arche and Genis.

The sea wasn’t anywhere close to the most beautiful thing here.

“Anything to make that smile return,” he muttered.

No, that title belonged to the girl standing next to him. Her ponytail swayed in the slight breeze that teased his shoulders, her dress fluttering around her thighs, the metal around her neck glinting golden under the sunlight. Her arms were outstretched to feel the sea spray, her head tipped back in bliss. And on her face was the smile he always wanted to put there, bright and happy and content.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Lloyd? Earth to Lloyd?”

Lloyd snapped out of his daze to find Colette waving her hand in his face, a pout on her face and her hand on her waist.

“You can’t just stare at me and go silent, you know,” Colette grumbled.

“Sorry. I… I was, um...” Lloyd scrambled to return to his senses, wondering what he could even say without exposing just how deeply he had tumbled into love. Just being this close to her made his heart sing, not to mention how her current outfit turned her cuteness up to eleven and made functioning normally for him nigh impossible. All the ribbons…

He’d choked on his spit when Colette had walked out of the dressing room, hardly able to believe his eyes. Genis had spent the entirety of yesterday night reminding him of this, and Lloyd knew Genis would never let him forget.

A sudden clicking sound emanated from near their feet, interrupting his awkward attempt at an explanation. Boy, was he glad for the distraction.

“Oh!” Colette squealed in delight, crouching once again to peer at the snout that now poked out of the waters - one belonging to a grey dolphin with shining, curious eyes. “Hello there! Come to say hi?”

So the clicking sound had been the dolphin’s cry! He’d have to thank the dolphin later for saving his hide.

Colette laughed, the sound as refreshing as the sea spray, as the dolphin bumped its snout into her open palm. “You’re a playful one, aren’t you?” she whispered, patting its rubbery head. “Hm, I think I’ll name you Tim. Do you like the name?”

The dolphin proceeded to swim one rapid round, seemingly expressing its joy. It leapt into the air before diving back into the water, the slap of its tail spraying the both of them with a faceful of salt.

“I think it likes it,” Lloyd said. He couldn’t help but smile - even as he blinked seawater out of his eyes - content to watch Colette play with the dolphin. Naming the dolphins was so inherently... Colette.

That was when a second dolphin appeared, emitting equally enthusiastic cries as it joined the first. The two swam around each other happily, squeaking and clicking, with what appeared to be smiles on both of their faces that revealed rows of teeth.

“I think Tim and Robert are friends!” Colette exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She had come up with a second name on the spot. Impressive. “How sweet.”

“They’re… They’re coming back,” Lloyd noted in surprise, staring at the two rapidly approaching dolphins gliding through the ocean. The two sea creatures came to an abrupt stop before him and Colette, both clicking out an unknown message.

“I wonder what it is they want,” Colette mused, reaching out a gentle hand to stroke Robert’s fin. Only to be met with enthusiastic clicking, Tim bobbing its head up-and-down in what Lloyd interpreted as a nod.

“Huh.” This was probably going to sound dumb, but it was the only thing that came to Lloyd’s mind. “I… I think they want us to ride them?”

As if they could comprehend what Lloyd was saying, the two dolphins burst out into a cacophony of cries, shocking even Colette.

“I think you hit the nail on the head!” Colette kicked off her sandals, the two shoes landing on a haphazard pile on the sand, before grabbing his right hand in both of hers. She did it with no hesitation at all, the warmth of her hands seeping into his. He didn’t know how she did it, but he never wanted her to stop.

“Come on! This will be so much fun!” she cried, tugging him along, the bracelet around her right wrist jangling. She was the brightest thing before him, brighter even than the sun, her smile lighting up his chest with fireworks.

He would follow her anywhere. Anywhere in the whole wide world.

“Let’s not keep Tim and Robert waiting!”

~~~

“I wish you would have told us about the dolphins,” Arche grumbled, sitting up on the beach towel that formed her seat and hugging her knees to her chest. Genis was squatting next to her, continuing to work on the turtle sandcastle that had won the pair the spontaneously-held sandcastle competition. And rightfully so, considering how intricate the design was - complete with grooves on the shell and accurately shaped flippers.

Colette wondered how the turtle continued to stand on such a narrow base, however. Shouldn’t it have collapsed by now? Sand wasn’t this stable, was it? How did Genis do it?

“Sorry,” she apologised, plopping down under the shade of the umbrella that the two half-elves had commandeered. Her legs were still slightly shaky from the thrill of the past half-hour. “I was too engrossed and forgot entirely.”

It had been so much fun to navigate the seas on the back of an energetic dolphin with Lloyd by her side, catching the waves and speeding along the currents, feeling the sea breeze kiss her face. The cries of the dolphins and Lloyd’s laughter had filled her ears, his delighted smile carved into her memory. He’d even challenged her to a race, one that had ended in a draw as both Tim and Robert reached the shore at the same time. She and Lloyd had stumbled back onto the sand at that moment, her head spinning from all the tight turns they’d made. His arms had steadied her, as Lloyd always did, as she had turned and waved goodbye to the dolphins before they sped away.

“I’ll definitely tell you next time!” Colette promised. Arche and Genis should get to know the magical experience as well. And she would love to do it again.

Maybe she’d get to see Tim and Robert again! That would be great.

Genis not-so-discreetly elbowed Arche in the side, raising three fingers into the air and shaking his head.

“Ah, you’re right, Genis. Never mind, Colette, it’s alright. I’m actually somewhat glad.” Arche nodded sagely, having understood Genis’ symbolism perfectly. She flopped back down onto the towel, resting her head on her crossed arms. “I would have died so young from third-wheeling.”

“What does that even mean?” Colette asked, half-ready to place her hands on Arche’s shoulders and shake the answers out of her friend. It was bad enough that Arche and Genis seemed to be sharing an inside joke, but they also kept using these mysterious terms that Colette couldn’t wrap her head around! Even Lloyd seemed to be in on it.

“Don’t mind them!” Lloyd hurriedly interjected, slipping his feet into his sandals. Was he… blushing again?

What was happening?!!

Colette pouted. Fine. She’d drop it for now. But she’d find out one day, she swore.

“So. Shall we play a game of volleyball?” Arche asked. “Our sandcastle competition fell apart from the beginning, and…” Arche reached blindly into a backpack that the half-elf had magically procured out of somewhere, for Colette did not remember her bringing it to the beach. Arche triumphantly pulled out a colourful beach ball, all without budging from her lazy position. “...it’s the perfect use for this!”

“Sure. You’re on,” Lloyd replied, grinning. “I bet me and Colette can beat you any day.”

“And you two are automatically on the same team.” Arche finally sat up, raising one eyebrow before dropping it immediately. “Why am I even surprised? Anyway, you sure you want to make that bet?”

Genis sighed, setting down his shovel. He was not looking forward to all the physical exertion, but he knew he’d get dragged into it whether or not he agreed. Might as well indulge his friends. “Don’t try to be cocky, Arche. Lloyd may be the dumbest idiot in the world, but he is strong.”

“Oh, you’re right…”

“Yeah! See? I’d beat you - Wait, Genis!” Lloyd shouted, having finally processed that his friend had insulted him.

Colette paid no mind to the childish jabs her two childhood friends were busy exchanging. Rather, she was deep in thought about how to make the upcoming volleyball game more fun. Genis would get tired fairly quickly, and she’d rather let him rest instead of forcing himself to continue. But that would make the teams unbalanced, and who knew how long Arche and Lloyd could continue playing for?

The solution…

Ah!

“Can I invite Misella and her friends?” Colette perked up, raising her arm like she was answering one of Professor Raine’s questions. She’d come up with a brilliant idea, and she wanted to share it! “Since they’re here at the beach, they might as well join in the fun!”

“I mean… I don’t see why not?” Arche shrugged.

“The more the merrier!” Lloyd agreed.

“Okay then, I’m off!” Colette scrambled to her feet, quickly brushing down her bare legs. “I’ll bring them back here.”

Colette sprinted towards where she remembered Misella was, becoming nothing more than a blur of yellow and red that zoomed past other people. She spotted a familiar head of pink hair and adjusted her path.

Misella was standing with her back to Colette, her arms crossed across her chest. The person who had been in the process of being buried was now fully covered with a massive mound of sand, arms laying slack as if in resignation.

As Colette neared the group of five, the sound of enraged shouting reached her ears. Oh no, was there some argument going on?

All Colette could make out was the word “bazongas”. She had no clue what that meant, for she had never heard it before. Perhaps it was some mysterious creature, befitting of such a unique name. She’d just ask Professor Raine later!

What Colette did know was the chain of unfortunate events that unfolded within the next few minutes. It was such a short time, and yet it was packed to the brim with frantic activity, seeming to stretch into eternity.

Colette spotted Misella raise her arm, a bird of flame coming to life and rearing its head gloriously. She absent-mindedly registered in a small section of her mind that the phoenix was gorgeous, elegant and regal. A perfect match for someone like Misella.

The rest of her mind was focused on all-consuming worry.

Lloyd, Genis and Arche tended to get into arguments a lot. They were always playful, however, never malicious in nature. And they most certainly did not stray into full-on fights with intent to injure. At most, Genis would hit Lloyd lightly in the shoulder, while Arche hit a little harder by slapping the same spot.

Friends shouldn’t hurt one another! She staunchly believed in that! So whatever disagreement Misella and her friends had gotten into, they should resolve it peacefully. Not with red-hot flames!

“Mise - Ah!” Colette was interrupted mid-shout as her foot caught on… absolutely nothing. There was nothing in the sand - not a pebble, not a fragment of a seashell, not a handle of a stray, forgotten shovel. She had tripped over thin air.

The mystery of how Colette had fallen, while intriguing, was not the most important thing.

Rather, it was the immediate consequence of her fall, as it usually was.

Misella, too wrapped up in yelling at Vicious, didn’t hear Colette’s approach at all. The others took notice of the girl flailing her arms in warning far too late, identical expressions of alarm crossing their faces as they stepped forward in a futile attempt to stop the inevitable collision.

“Now burn - Eek!” Misella let out a surprised squeak of her own as Colette’s outstretched arms slammed into Misella’s back, sending them both careening towards the sand.

Unfortunately, this was also the moment wherein Misella released her scorching flames.

And you can guess how that ended.

~~~

“First of all. Lloyd, what are you wearing?” Raine groaned, dragging a tired hand down her face. As the responsible, and only, adult of the group, it had fallen to her to retrieve the frolicking children from the beach before the day got too late, and shepherd them back to the inn. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be leaving this town on time. Or ever.

If Raine was to be truly responsible, she should have been supervising them the entire time. After all, there was no telling what consequences Arche’s shenanigans would usher in, nor the problems that Lloyd’s stupidity could cause, nor the calamities that Colette could trip her way into. Genis, bless her little brother’s poor soul, would try his best, but he was nowhere near intimidating enough to get a handle on all three of them.

But there was no way anyone was going to convince her to spend her afternoon at the beach, passing each second petrified by terror and staring at the slowly approaching waters, waiting for the ocean to swallow her whole. She still wanted to let Lloyd, Colette and Genis experience the beach, however. Colette, especially, had been deprived of a childhood for far too long.

So Raine had happily traipsed off to the library for a few hours of quality reading, convinced that even these trio of troublemakers (and Genis tagging along) couldn’t get into that much trouble in such a short time.

And she’d come back to this mess.

“Is this really relevant, Professor? And why does everyone feel the need to bring this up?”

“Because it’s appalling! I taught you better than this!”

Genis and Arche, sitting on a nearby stone wall and observing the proceedings with identical deadpan expressions, let out a synchronised snicker. Though they quickly shut up when Raine glared at them. They did value their lives.

“That’s NOT the point, Professor! Don’t we have more pressing issues to deal with?”

"Then to get to the point… Colette," Raine forced through gritted teeth, the last word pointed. These kids were really something…

"Yes, Professor Raine?" Colette laughed in a higher pitch than usual, clasping her hands behind her back as sweat ran down her brow. Both because of nerves, and because of... Well... The situation behind her.

It was really, really hot. Not to mention the group of five arguing close-by, the boy who had finally managed to extricate himself from the sand desperately patting at his originally silver hair, which now had blackened tips. It might also have been… significantly shorter than it used to be, and certainly more jagged.

Raine sighed, brow furrowing in exasperation. She could feel the beginnings of a pounding headache.

"I left the four of you for three hours. Why is the beach on fire?"

#tales of symphonia #fanfiction #one shot #tales of crestoria #colette brunel #lloyd irving #genis sage #raine sage #arche klein #misella #colloyd #colette's crestoria summer alt

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crushedbyhyperbole · 4 years

Text

Indomitable

Pairing: Sebastian Stan / Plus Size Reader

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club endless quarantine as long as there are prompts we’ll write them thingy, and a prompt from @prunes-said-bucky. I’ve never written Sebastian before, never really considered it TBH, since he’s not just a character to play with but hey, I gave it a shot. Hope it’s not horrific.

Warnings: Angst, body shaming, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, strong and confident plus size reader, emotional support, kissing and teasing, no smut.

There is a section that contains a list of body shaming comments. This is a block quote with ######### at the start and end, so feel free to skip over those if you are so inclined.

***FINAL REMINDER TO READ THE WARNINGS FOLKS***

Sebastian slumped back in his chair. The computer screen glared at him accusingly as bile rose in his throat. He did this. He failed to protect you. His career, and the whole shebang that went with it; toxic.

There were good parts, hell, there were great parts, but this… this wasn’t one of them. His fans were usually great. Kind, accepting, fun, keen, and dedicated. He loved Winter’s Children and gave as much of himself as he could while maintaining a balance that kept him sane.

You were part of that. Far removed from the lime light, you were a nobody. A regular person. Not tied to the entertainment industry in anyway other than being his girlfriend. The world barely knew you existed and he worked hard to keep it that way.

Until now.

“Hey, sweetie!” You knocked on the study door after letting yourself into his apartment, peeking in to see him at his desk. “You need anything? I’m just about to make some fresh coffee.” You smiled knowingly; he loved his coffee

“Oh, hey, yeah sure.” Sebastian scrambled to shut the screen off so you wouldn’t see what he was reading. “Thanks, babe.” He smiled back.

“Oooohh, was that porn?” You smirked, coming to stand behind him, resting your hands on his shoulders and feeling tension there. “Discovering something new you want to try, huh?” You teased a little to lighten the mood. Something had him stressed out.

He sighed, leaning his head back to rest against your stomach. From there he looked up at you, past your boobs, with worry in his big blue eyes.

“I wish it was porn.”

“Skype audition not go so well?” You massaged his taut trapezius until he moaned lightly, relaxing under your touch. You slid your hands into the neck of his shirt, smoothing them over his chest, feeling the light prickle of stubble where his chest hair was starting to grow back in. “Want to talk about it?”

He wrapped his hands around your wrists, stilling you gently. The nervous lick of his lips concerned you.

“Oh, the audition went great.” He sat up, swivelling his chair to face you where he tugged on your hips to sit you across his lap. “It’s what came after that I need to talk to you about.”

You could see something was really eating him up but you let him get to it in his own time.

“I spoke to Elaine.”

“Social media manager, Elaine?” You knew every member of team of people who Sebastian relied on in his career. Elaine had been with Seb for years, helping him managing his social media presence, and she was very good at what she did.

“Right.” He stroked your lower back absently. “Well, I called her because some pictures got out. Of us.”

You knew he tried to keep you separate from all the media stuff. He needed a safe haven, and he also didn’t want to ruin your life with paparazzi hounding you and gossip sites dissecting your whole existence.

“Of the other week when we went out comet watching and ended up getting jiggy in the back of your car?” You teased.

He laughed, scrunching his face up in that cute way you loved. “No.” He grinned. “Surprisingly, not that.”

“Phew,” you play acted utter relief, “thank heavens my tatas didn’t make it onto TMZ.”

“You’re amazing, you know that right?” He squeezed his arms around your waist.

“Yeah, I know,” you beamed, “caught you, hook, line and sinker, didn’t I?” You murmured into his hair, pressing a kiss there. “What’s up?”

“I don’t really know how to deal with this, y/n. It’s everything I’ve always tried to shield you from.”

You tightened your arms around his shoulders, reassuringly. This really wasn’t like him at all. “Just show me.”

The pictures were fine. Seb and you, sat on a wall by the banks of the Danube, eating charcoal black ice cream in the sun. Holding hands by the stalls of a street market. Him stealing a kiss while you laughed at something he said. They were older photos from a trip you took to Romania the year before. You smiled, remembering the fun you had there. Seb’s boy-like exuberance as he rediscovered his country of birth with you. They were great memories.

It was the bitchy comments that he was concerned about.

##########

Why would someone as hot as him be with someone like her?

Ikr, she fat

Who is she? Nvr seen her b4

Not surprised we’ve never seen her. I’d be embarrassed to bee seen with her too.

Pity fuck

Maybe it’s for a role.

Guurrrllll… Swap that ice cream for a salad.

She’s disgusting! Sebby what are you doing?!!!

Look at that fat body! What a waste of a pretty face…

Pretty? Lol pretty ugly.

What does he see in her?

He looks younger in this. Must’ve already dumped her fat ass.

She’s curvy? Maybe he likes that. Not my cup of tea though.

Curvy like the Michelin man lol

Definitely not the right clothes for your body type sweetie… dress appropriately.

Lost all respect for Seb now UGH!

Look at that cellulite!

Seabass meets a whale lol

##########

You glanced through the comments. Most were positive but some were brutal. You could see why he was upset by these. He cared a great deal about his fans but this was making him consider if it was worth the effort.

Sebastian swallowed nervously, looking up into your eyes.

“You’re worried about how I feel about this?”

“Of course I am.” His tone was pleading. “I love you. I never wanted you to get dragged into any of this crap, but look at them!” He was getting agitated. “I’m going to tell Elaine to take it all down, I’m done.”

“What’s that going to prove, huh?” You soothed.

“Nothing. But it’ll be gone, right? No more fan stuff if they can’t respect both of us.”

“I dunno, it seems a shame to deprive your good and loyal fans of their sexy seabass,” you winked at him, “besides if the things people did online got to me I’d have drawn a line in the sand at some of that filthy dirty fan fiction they like to write.”

“C’mon, y/n, I’m being serious,” he begged with his eyes. “They can’t talk about you like this. It’s shitty and they’re completely wrong.”

“Babe.” You levelled a steady gaze at him. “I don’t care what these people think.” Stroking your fingers soothingly through his hair, you scratched and massaged gently. “The only people whose opinions matter about any of that stuff are right here in this room, okay?”

Seb sighed and hid his face in your plush bosom, and for a while neither of you spoke. He relaxed, breathing slowing until you thought he’d fallen asleep. You trailed your fingers across the back of his neck and to the sensitive place below his ear.

“If you keep at that there’s going to be trouble.” Muffled against your chest you could feel him smirking.

“I like trouble.” You whispered with a cheeky grin as he lifted his head.

“Thanks for distracting me.” He stretched up to place a chaste kiss on your lips. “I think I know what to do.”

“Oh?” You chuckled as he scooted the wheels of the chair closer to the desk with you still in his lap. You tried to give him some space but he held you firm.

“Stay put,” he shifted so you were stable again, “this’ll take 2 seconds.”

Sebastian fired off an email to Elaine, letting her know everything was fine. You weren’t concerned by the comments but he suggested letting a few of his top most trusted fans to help moderate the official site. Let them get invested in the two of you as a facet of his brand. You were definitely here to stay.

He counted himself the luckiest man alive to have found someone so caring, kind and gentle as you, but also someone so confident and steadfast. Your spirit was unbreakable. You were his rock, the foundations on which he grew and thrived.

“So, now that you’re done righting wrongs, what’s the plan for today?” You asked sweetly. “You asked me to sleep over on a work day, so…”

“Well, first of all,” he eyed you mischievously, “I’m going to reiterate how much I love every single inch of you.”

“I like the sound of that,” you simpered.

“Do you?” He teased.

“I do.”

“Good,” Seb nuzzled your neck seductively. “Then we’re going to go out to eat,” he nipped your ear with his teeth. “I made reservations.”

“Sounds… public.” You sighed, distracted.

“Don’t care.”

“Okay…”

“And then,” he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Then, I want to talk to you about getting a place together.”

“You had this planned? You kissed him between sentences.

“I did.”

“Seems rushed.”

“Four years is plenty long enough,” he murmured.

“Ok,” you smiled against his lips, “but I’m keeping my apartment.”

“Of course.” He slid his hands into your hair ready to deepen the kiss but paused. “Where else is all your craft stuff going to live?”

Laughter rang out as you swatted at him and he tickled your waist. The world could do whatever the hell it wanted. As long as you both had each other, there was nothing else you needed, and nothing you needed to prove.

#HBC Drunk Drabbles #sebastian stan x plus size reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fluff #body shaming #confident plus size reader #angst #no smut #cloudy's writing #indomitable

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ribcage-rodents · 4 years

Text

How Iris first had an inkling that Wally had a crush on Dick. Ok so like, bc Star and Gotham are absolutely horrifying during Halloween, Barry is like “I’ll patrol then Iris will take the babies trick or teating”

Originally Wally is really upset bc he wants to go patrolling w his uncle but once he finds out that he gets to hang out w the other hero’s he’s psyched.

So Wally is like 12-13 and dresses up as the flash naturally. Roy is like 14-15 and he’s totally too old for Halloween and over it bc he’s super angsty, and dresses up as like Jason form Friday the thirteenth or some shit bc Black Canary forces him to. Robin only ever celebrated Halloween during his circus days when everyone would paint their face scary and flying Graysons would do aerial ballet show w black fabric so it was like spiders but after that it was just horrifying.

Anyway so Barry picked up this tiny Batman costume and Iris was like “Barry hon, isn’t he like 10? Shouldn’t you get him a bigger outfit?” (He two years younger than Wally, and four younger than Roy) And Barry is like “no trust me babe he teeny”.

Batman shows up to their house followed by a tinsity winsty baby tiny Batman bc Barry ran it over b/f patrol. And wow is that cute. Tiny baby Batman is basically glued to Batman’s side, his teeny little head coming up to Batman’s lower thigh, last time Iris checked 10-year olds aren’t supposed to be that tiny but wow is it adorable. (I’m sorry I just love teeny baby Dickie& giant looming built-like-a-tank batdaddy)

Barry told her what Batman had already explained. That Robin is foreign and doesn’t really know a lot of holiday stuff and also has been severely traumatized the past couple of years and doesn’t really like strangers and knows better than to take anything from strangers.

So it’s obvious that Robin would rather be tied up and drugged w fear gas than in a family aquatintence’s home about to go trick or treating. And Iris is a little resentful of the other boys, hard as she try to be understanding, bc Wally looks so disappointed bc he just wants to have friends and these guys don’t want to have fun.

Anyway Roy is kinda warming up to the whole trick or treating thing but sometimes he can be really mean to Wally but maybe Iris is just overprotective of her boy. Iris takes several pictures during the entire night despite both Batmans being adamant about no photos.

Robin refuses to go up to any house but Iris doesn’t comment on it. She doesn’t want to alienate him, so she doesn’t say anything. She goes up and grabs him a peice of candy but he disappears into the night. She panics for a good couple of seconds but calms when tiny Batman shows up next to Wally and Roy.

She doesn’t try again after that. He likes to walk at the back of the group and every time Iris tries to keep an eye on him, bc he may be a trained hero but central isn’t as safe as smallsville and her parental instincts are going off. Every couple of blocks Wally will try to walk next to him and talk and it’ll work for a while then Robin will slow down and fall behind and Wally’s angelic little baby face gets so sad.

As their trip comes to an end Iris can see Robin wrapping the cape around him tightly w his eyes screwed shut and it breaks her heart a little bc this poor boy must be so uncomfortable and scared that he’s trying to imitate the feeling of his mentors hug. It’s a jarring to imagine Batman hugging anything but she supposes that a baby as cute as that must make even the dark knight just wanna squeeze his sweet rosy, chubby cheeks. She reaches out to place a hand on his head, bc he’s too short to comfortably put a hand on his shoulder.

He jerks back immediately and death glares her, his anger showing full force through the white eyelets. She sent him an apologetic smile and he seemed to unbistle a smidgen.

Once they were finally home Iris watched them from behind the kitchen counter. Wally and Roy were digging into the candy while Robin perched on top of the couch. He kept scratching at his arm, Barry said that it was fine as long as it was controlled. Apparently the poor baby had a pretty serious anxiety disorder and tended to scratch to make himself feel better, it was ok as long as he didn’t have an attack.

She tossed him the single candy across the room, he caught it swiftly in his tiny baby hand. (So cute) Wally shot up to his feet. “That’s not one of my candies right?” Iris smiled, her prefect gluttonous boy. “Nope it’s from your uncles,” it was lie but it didn’t harm anyone. “That’s my backup candy!” Wally cried racing towards the door and snatching up handfuls of candy from the trick or treater bowl. Iris pretend to scold him for being stingy.

Robin slowly unwrapped the candy then examined it breaking off a piece and finally eating the snickers. His eyelets widened comically and he chewed slowly staring down at the candy before shoving the entire (not that fun size is really that big) thing in his mouth. It was absolutely adorable! She wished she had take a video and wondered if this was his first ever candy. (Dick usually just ate cotton candy as a kid, he hadn’t discover cereal yet. But since his parents died he hasn’t had real sugar, Alfred has strict hold on anything sweet in the house and Robin was deemed too energetic already.)

Apparently Wally agreed bc his mouth was wide open and his face was a blotchy-red color. His eyes were filled w what Iris could only discribe as adoration.

Wally swallowed then stood up again. His arms filled w sweets. “Here you can have my candy!” Wally all but shouted at the other boy, he paused for a second looking at his arms, “or we could share,” he suggested instead.

That’s what got Iris, even before his flash experiment Wally has never shared food, not even w his uncle. But here he was offering up some to a boy he hardly knows bc he thinks it’s cute when he eats candy. God she might cry.

Robin smiled at Wally. A real smile, the first one she’s seen all night. “You could still have it all if you wanted!” Wally said again his face turning a couple shades darker and thrusting the candy at robin, who artfully avoided his touch.

“We can share, don’t speedsters need extra calories?” Wally nodded and then proceeded to gather up the rest of the candy scattered on the floor. It was then that Iris noticed that Roy and dipped.

She was slightly panicked. Roy could probably fight for himself but he’s still a baby, a baby that Iris was in charge of. She hurriedly pulled out some blankets and turned on the tv for the boys while she dialed Barry who called Ollie. In a strange turn of events Ollie actually apologized to Iris, saying quote, “Roy’s a little jack-ass of course he snuck off. Don’t worry I’ll find him, probably screwed off to get drunk at some highschool party. Thanks for watching him while you could, I honestly expected him to scurry off a lot sooner.”

It didn’t exactly ease the tension in Iris’ chest but watching those two babies sitting on the couch pass candy back forth watching Charlie Brown specials made her feel a lot better. They were on opposite sides of the couch and Iris could see Wally’s little fingers twitching by his legs, he got up to go to the bathroom and came back only to really casually sit right next to Robin, like basically on his lap.

Robin wiggled up onto the arm of the couch.

“Ok so this ones a Milky Way,” Wally said passing the treat up to Robin.

He popped it in his mouth and chewed. “What’s the difference between this one and the snickers?” He asked, Iris was a little surprised by how good Robins accent was, he spoke like a natural English speaker, which he wasn’t. Every once in a while he’d use a word wrong or mispronounce something, a lit of something would catch on what he was saying but his American accent was pretty flawless.

“Snickers have peanuts, milky ways don’t,” Wally supplied in a duh voice. Robin smiled, “golly, you sure know a bunch about candies. You must be really smart!” And isn’t that so cute! Everyone treats the speedsters like idiots just bc they’re dense but here Robin is picking up on the hidden intelligence like a Batman should. Wally puffed his chest out all proud his face was still all red like a patchy strawberry.

A couple hours passed when Batman showed up. Wearing a different not soaked in fear gas costume, both Iris and Wally were sad to see robin go, well Wally was more devastated. The minute Batman stepped through the front door Robin was disappearing underneath his cape, according to Barry Robin doesn’t like to be more than 3cm from Batman at all times.

“Maybe we can hang out more!” Wally called his blush finally fading. A chipper ok sounded from somewhere in Batman’s cape, (Wally’s face turned scarlet in an instant) at the same time Batman gruffed out a no. Wally’s perfect baby face fell, Batman and Robin left. “Hey don’t worry kiddo I’ll talk to him!” Wally gave a half-hearted smile then went back to his candy eating.

Later he was engrossed in a discussion of patrol w his uncle while they both ate most of central’s candy supply.

As Barry and Iris got ready for bed an hour or so later she turned to him w a mischievous smile. “So it’s seems like Wally’s got his first real crush!” She sing-songed. Barry looked at her confused a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. “Who?” “Robin” she responded. “That’s doesn’t make any sense!” She signed, somethings speedsters really were dense.

#dick grayson #birdflash #wally west #babydickie #roy harper #batdaddy

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

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April Contest Submission #22: Lake Town Sunrise

Words: ca. 3,800 Setting: modern Lemon: no CW: loneliness, moving, high schoolers, mild angst, language

If anyone had asked Anna what she felt about moving halfway across the country to a tiny place called Lake Town during the fourth month of her senior year, well — she would have lied and said she didn’t mind at all. But no one had, so she didn’t have to lie to anyone. Not even herself. And she hated the move.

Anna had no choice in the matter but the seventeen year-old felt like she had no right to complain to her beloved grandfather, who had sacrificed his entire retirement life to raise her from an infant. If he wanted to move, there should be nothing holding him back. But Anna had to admit she wished he’d waited a few more months. Just a few more months and Anna would graduate and be out of his hair. On her own.

Until then, Anna was adjusting to an entirely new life in a new place with new people and new schoolwork. The piles of catch-up homework were her worst nightmare. She didn’t like to have bad grades so she was devoting all of her energy to her classes in an effort not to disappoint herself. As a result, she hadn’t had the time or energy to make a single friend from November to March, and as a social person, the loss of friendship was starting to drive her crazy. Nobody back home even returned her texts anymore; they’d completely moved on and Anna was stuck by herself in a town with only a lake she had yet to even visit, just trying to keep her head above water.

Just because she hadn’t made any friends, however, didn’t mean she hadn’t picked out a couple people from her classes she’d love to be friends with. One girl stood out to her in particular. She was in Anna’s writing class and they often paired up when the teacher required it. Her name was Elsa and she had the prettiest long white-blonde hair Anna had ever seen; usually worn in a braid or a ponytail. Every once in a while she let it loose in gentle waves; those were Anna’s favorite days.

Elsa was a quiet student, never talking with anyone around her. Anna noticed she usually had a sketchbook open and a pencil rhythmically scratching away. She’d give anything to know what Elsa was always drawing, but she couldn’t stare too long or the blonde would eventually glance up and catch her eye, causing them both to look away quickly, blushing.

Yesterday Elsa hadn’t come to school and Anna had found herself rather disappointed. She always looked forward to English class but without the other girl to pay attention to, Anna had stared at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Was Elsa the only reason she enjoyed this class? They had barely had a complete conversation beyond relevant English topics. Still, Anna found herself begging the fates to let her see that sketchbook when she walked through the door to room 37b today.

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs when Anna rounded the corner and saw Elsa at the desk beside hers, legs crossed, focused entirely on the pencil meeting her paper. Anna approached; Elsa looked up and smiled when she saw who was there.

“Hi, Anna!”

“Hey,” she smiled back. “I missed you yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” blonde eyebrows softened, “My grandma was a bit under the weather so I had to stay home and take care of her.”

“You live with your grandma?” Anna asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, it’s just the two of us.”

“Me too,” Anna encouraged, “but with my grandfather.”

“Oh wow! I don’t think I’ve met anyone else here in the same boat.” Elsa closed her sketchbook as Anna took a seat.

“It’s definitely a unique experience,” Anna laughed. She watched the fluorescent lights glimmer in Elsa’s eyes when she nodded in response.

Anna’s heart raced quietly while she pulled out her English notebook and folder. There were still a few minutes left before class began. Maybe she could think of something else to say before the chance was gone. But it was Elsa who took another stab at conversation first.

“What are you doing for spring break?” Elsa asked.

“Oh!” Anna smiled, excited. “Ever since moving here in the winter I’ve been drowning in either snow or catch-up homework, so I’m finally gonna take a break in the nice weather and see what this famous lake is all about! I’ve never even gotten…” she trailed off at the sight of Elsa’s grimace. “What?”

“Sorry,” Elsa said, “it’s just - you don’t want to be anywhere near the lake during spring break.”

“I mean I know it’s gonna be crowded—”

“You don’t understand. That lake is the only interesting thing in a 200 mile radius. Everybody in the entire state who can’t afford a real vacation will be swarming the town - especially the lake. All fucking week.”

“Oh.” Anna sighed, crestfallen. She had hoped to spend some time with her new classmates at the lake; they were still strangers to her after all this time. She had thought maybe she’d even make a friend there. But not now. “Wait, where does everybody go then? If the whole town gets taken over?”

“Well, some have to stick around to run the shops and everything, but most everybody scatters off to vacations of their own.” Elsa explained.

“And what about you?”

“My grandma doesn’t go anywhere. I’ll be around.”

Class started abruptly and the conversation was cut off. Anna didn’t hear a word of the lecture, as her thoughts swirled around her head. Thoughts of the forbidden lake, of people who got to experience “real” vacations, but mostly of Elsa. Elsa had talked to her for so long today - and seemed to enjoy it! Anna felt light and airy, like something was trying to lift her heart right out of her chest. Was this what it felt like, to be on the verge of friendship? Anna hadn’t even experienced these butterflies the entire time she dated Kristoff back home.

Wait. Did she have feeling-feelings for Elsa? Was that - was that allowed? Would Elsa ever —

The bell rang.

Everybody scrambled to pack their backpacks up, except for Elsa and Anna. Elsa jotted something down on a corner of a page in her sketchbook, then tore it out as Anna watched.

“Here,” Elsa held out the ripped corner. “That’s my address. Meet me there after school today when break starts. I wanna show you something.”

Anna took the paper and watched dumbfounded as Elsa left the classroom. Shaking her head out, she looked at the address. It was a five minute walk from her house.

When she flipped the piece of paper over in her hand, the other side (probably unintentionally) had part of a sketch. It was a person, cut off just below the shoulders. Anna stared in disbelief at her own freckled face smiling up at herself in graphite.

***********************************

Anna ran all the way home, making her 12 minute walk in 8 minutes. She found her grandpa sitting in his chair, working on a puzzle. Huffing and puffing from exertion, Anna made her way through the living room to the hallway, saying, “Hey, Gramps,” as she passed.

“In a hurry, child?” the old man replied, glancing up briefly from his puzzle.

“I made a friend, I’ll explain in a minute!” Anna called out as she jogged farther into the house.

She reached her room and threw her backpack to the ground before stripping off her clothes and staring at her closet, hoping something would jump out at her. Her chest heaved as the cool air helped dry the clammy skin of her torso. What was she supposed to wear to Elsa’s house for the first time, where she was going to quote-unquote ‘show her something?’ Was it something casual, something fancy? After a moment she settled on a cute tie dye t-shirt and black jeans. It was spring break after all, she should be able to wear something comfortable.

Anna glanced at her signature twin braids in the mirror. She pulled the hair ties out and ran her fingers through the locks, letting it fall apart into structured waves. Yep, that’s cute! she thought.

On her way back out through the house, Anna told her grandfather she was going to a new friend’s house, and that he should order a pizza for dinner. He had no complaints, but reminded her to be home by 10. Soon, Anna was out the door, headed in the direction of Elsa’s house.

This time, she walked deliberately slowly. Anna didn’t want to be out of breath when she got to Elsa’s house, nor did she want to get there earlier than Elsa might expect. Anna had rushed herself rather hard ever since that final bell rang, but now as she passed houses she had never seen and heard birds enjoying the spring afternoon, she had a few moments to think about what had happened earlier. Precisely: the conversation, the realization, and the invitation.

Just yesterday she was silently disappointed that Elsa was missing from class, and now they’d had a nice interaction, Anna thought she might have a crush on her, and Elsa invited her over to her house! It was all so sudden and exciting. Confusing, but exciting.

Do I really like her? Anna wondered. Well, comparing her feelings to what she used to feel around Kristoff was pretty telling. She thought Kristoff was cute and nice, and she liked how it made her feel when he told her how much he liked her. But maybe that wasn’t what love feels like. Maybe it’s more like what Elsa makes her feel… comfort, acceptance, longing, excitement. Not to mention how attractive she was, with her gorgeous hair and perfect face and shining blue eyes, bluer than anything Anna had ever seen…

Fuck.

Anna might have a little bit of a crush on Elsa. In fact, it might be huge.

But could Elsa ever feel the same way? They were both girls, so Anna felt it was unlikely Elsa had ever had a similar thought toward Anna. However, Anna felt the piece of paper in her pocket. The one with the drawing on the back. Why did Elsa draw her? Was this the only one and it happened to be on the exact page and corner she tore out? Or did she sketch Anna a lot?… Is that why sometimes when Anna was watching her draw, Elsa would glance up directly at her — because Anna was actually her subject?

She sighed. There was so much to think about all of a sudden. She almost wanted to go back to obsessing over her homework and ignoring everybody. But then she saw a mailbox with Elsa’s address and her heart rate took off. That was a normal reaction, right? Totally, for sure.

Anna wiped her clammy palms off on her jeans and consciously corrected her posture as she approached Elsa’s house. It was painted a nice sky blue, with navy shutters. There was an old car in the driveway, which disappeared past the other side of the building. In the front yard was a big pine tree looming over the house, at least three times as tall. As she approached, Anna noticed Elsa sitting at the base of the pine tree, under its canopy created by trimming the lowest branches. She waved from her shady spot when she noticed Anna.

“Hey!” Elsa called out. “You came!”

Anna jogged the last few steps and ducked under the branches to join Elsa’s shady dwelling. “Of course I came!” She grinned widely and plopped down across from the blonde, folding her legs into a criss-cross style. “This tree is amazing,” she remarked, looking up through its branches, barely able to see the bright sky filtering through them.

“Thanks,” Elsa patted the trunk she was leaning her back against, “she’s a good one. Great for quiet afternoons. But this isn’t what I wanted to show you.” She stood up, grabbing her sketchbook and brushing off her pants. “Follow me?”

We made our way across the lawn, past the car, and followed the driveway around the side of Elsa’s house. The drive stretched back past half of the small backyard, all the way to a strangely tall garage. It was wide enough for one car but was more like two-stories tall. Maybe a past owner had it built especially for a big vehicle or boat.

We stopped at the regular service door beside the big garage door and Elsa grabbed the handle, her fingers lightly trembling as they reached out. She was nervous to show Anna whatever was inside. Anna was racking her brain trying to guess what it could be. A boat for the lake they can’t go to? A weirdly tall truck? A collection of four wheelers? A quiet place perfect to trick Anna into a serial killer’s lair? No, of course not that one, jeez.

The door opened, the lights flicked on.

Anna’s jaw dropped.

She was wrong about everything.

Inside the garage, the entire space was transformed into a secret hideout of some kind. It like walking into a crazy treehouse but within the walls of a garage. There was a structure made out of lumber, expertly crafted together to form multiple separate areas as well as an elaborate winding staircase/ramp combo that wrapped around the walls, leading up to a partial upper level. All of the woodwork was bright blue with handpainted details which gave it all a realistic ice effect. Where the ceiling was visible there were tinted skylights letting in natural light, bathing everything in a blue glow.

To furnish the hangout, Elsa had a desk she clearly used for homework and art, a futon, multiple bean bag chairs, and who knows what else on the upper level. Anna reached out and laid a hand on Elsa’s arm. “This…” she shook her head out in disbelief. “This is not what I was expecting you to show me - but it’s incredible!”

“Thank you,” Elsa blushed slightly as she dipped her head down in gratitude.

“How did you do this? You made it all yourself?” Anna asked, touching the glossy surface of the painted wood beam closest to her.

Elsa scratched her neck, “Well, when I was little I always dreamed of having an ice palace, a place to get away from my daily life. I love my grandmother but sometimes I just needed to be a kid. As soon as we learned shop in middle school, I knew what I had to do. I asked permission to upgrade the garage and beyond that, my grandma doesn’t know or care what I do out here. She’s never seen it.” Elsa laughed. “So I’ve just been creating this space for myself over the years. I finally finished it last year with the paint job and everything. Oh, and I made the skylights myself by cutting holes through the roof and installing windows, weatherproofing the cracks. That was the hardest part of the whole garage.”

Anna smiled in disbelief. This quiet girl had a whole universe of creativity inside her head, and when the subject was something she was passionate about, she wasn’t quiet at all! Anna had never really been friends with an introvert, and apparently she had been missing out big time.

“You are…. so cool,” Anna finally said. “This is amazing!” She spun around, walking farther into the ice palace, looking up as the homemade skylights twisted in circles. After a minute, she got too dizzy and fell, landing on a beanbag with a thwump.

Elsa laughed and joined her on the nearest beanbag. “You really think so?”

“Of course!” Anna said.

“You’re the only person who I’ve ever invited here. The only one who’s ever seen it.”

“Wait, what?” Anna’s thoughts halted. “How is that possible?”

Elsa rubbed her arm anxiously, “Well, I… I don’t really have many friends. Or any friends, really. This place is my safe space, where I can get away from the world and truly be myself. Here I can read and create and relax, and nobody is here to judge me. I’ve never minded being alone.”

“So,” Anna tilted her head, trying not to come off as rude. “Then why did you invite me?”

Elsa’s cheeks bloomed with pink. “You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to invite.”

Anna’s expression softened as Elsa continued, “I feel safe around you. Even though we didn’t talk much before today, I’ve wanted to get to know you ever since you first walked into my English class.”

Anna’s heart soared. “I’ve felt the same way about you. I lost all my friends when I moved… and as an extrovert, I struggled with that a lot. But I had so much homework to catch up on, I couldn’t find the time to reach out to anyone here. So instead I cut myself off from making friends and buried myself in class work. But the whole time I’ve lived here, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. I wished and wished and wished that you would be my friend, but it felt like I waited too long and I’d be stuck alone for the rest of high school.”

Elsa held her hand out for Anna to take. It felt so smooth against Anna’s palm, she never would’ve believed the hard work these hands had been through if she didn’t see it with her own eyes.

“Well I think it’s safe to say we’re friends now,” Elsa said.

“Absolutely,” Anna agreed. “Good luck getting rid of me at this point!”

*******************************

A couple of hours passed before Anna even checked the time. “I should probably be getting home,” she sighed. “Could we do this again tomorrow?”

Elsa nodded enthusiastically. “I’d like that. And actually, I was wrong before, about the lake. Everybody else’s spring break doesn’t start until Monday so the droves won’t be hitting town until tomorrow night. The lake would be pretty deserted if we got there really early.”

“Yes!” Anna made a fist.

“I mean like sunrise-early.”

“Yikes. Okay. No problem!” Anna wasn’t a morning person, especially when she had the choice to sleep in, but this was a great exception.

A sunrise on the lake with her new favorite person? Sounded like a dream come true!

Anna didn’t even dream that night. She woke a minute before her 3:30 alarm and sprang out of bed. Flipping on lamps here and there, she went to the kitchen to prepare some food. She made an egg scramble which her grandpa could reheat when he woke up, and then she made more sandwiches than she’d ever made at one time, leaving two in the fridge for his lunch, and taking the rest with her to share with Elsa later.

When her lunch pack was filled with ice and sandwiches, Anna went back to her room to write a note for her grandpa and change into her swimsuit. She didn’t know if there would be any getting in the water at this lake on an early spring morning, but she was ready just in case. Then she put a light green t-shirt on over the swimwear, along with dark blue jogging pants and a black and white tie dye hoodie. She probably clashed but Anna preferred to wear lots of different colors, not caring if they went well together.

A bit of a long walk later, and Anna arrived at the street corner Elsa told her about. It was right at the lake. Anna set her lunch bag on the pavement and leaned against the street lamp pole. She felt in her pocket for that ripped piece of sketchbook paper, gently running her fingers over its edges. Before long, Elsa approached in the dim lamp light.

“Good morning,” Elsa said in a quiet voice. The way it sounded so …intimate made Anna’s stomach butterflies go for a loop.

“Morning, Elsa.” Anna smiled, picking up her bag. Elsa led the way toward the lake where they found an empty pier. They walked all the way to the end and sat on the edge, dangling their legs over the dark lake. It was about a ten foot drop beneath their feet to the surface of the water, where it gently rippled just for them.

They sat quietly in the darkness until the faintest tinge of light started appearing along the horizon. It was a gentle pale blue, barely discernible from the rest of the sky at first. Slowly, it gained more light, moment by moment. Soon the light blue was joined by pale yellow, then peach. When a brilliant pink appeared on wispy clouds, Anna couldn’t help but feel it was a metaphor for how quickly and beautifully her friendship with Elsa had bloomed.

Her feelings for Elsa developed like a brightening dawn.

It was light enough now to see each other if either girl dared to turn. Anna felt for the paper in her pocket and slowly pulled it out.

“Elsa?”

“Hmm?” Elsa answered, still staring at the pink clouds, now turning orange.

“Do you draw everyone in class?”

“What do you mean?” Elsa asked.

“When you’re sketching in your notebook, do you draw our classmates? Or anyone in particular?” Anna’s heart was beating so loud she was sure Elsa could hear it.

“Oh. Um,” Elsa hesitated. “I don’t draw a lot of different people. Only the ones who mean something to me.” She glanced sideways at Anna. “Why?”

“This piece of paper you wrote your address on…” Anna held it in her hand. Elsa’s head turned to look. “I couldn’t help but notice this drawing on the back. You probably didn’t mean—”

Elsa swiftly took the paper from Anna’s fingertips and gasped when she saw the sketch. “Anna, I can explain.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Anna placed a calming hand on Elsa’s. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

“I don’t?” Elsa asked, her face visibly red even in the low light.

“No.” Anna said. “I was just making sure I understood how you felt, before…” she trailed off.

“Before?”

Anna reached up and touched Elsa’s chin with her thumb and first finger. She gently tilted Elsa’s head as her eyes asked an important question. Elsa’s breath shook as she nodded slightly. Anna leaned in sweetly, but with purpose, as she let her lips softly brush against Elsa’s. They both let out a nervous breath before closing in again. This time, Anna could really feel the connection between their lips. Anna’s eyes fluttered closed.

She no longer needed to see the picture perfect sunrise, for the colors bursting in her heart and behind her eyelids were even more beautiful.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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ticklishpeter · 4 years

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remember when?

gfhdjbh this is so self-indgulgent. pls enjoy my second fic for diego’s day ! tw for,,,,,, pee i guess lmaoooo

fandom: the umbrella academy characters: diego & all the other hargreeves siblings!!! summary: klaus calls a family meeting; chaos ensues. word count: 1,691

The shrill sound of a bell rang through the mansion as Klaus sang out, obnoxiously loud, “FAMILY! FAAAMILYYYY!” The strong vibrato making Ben angrily cover his ears.

All six siblings met in the room fairly quickly; everyone looking either confused or tired... or both. “What is it, Klaus?” Luther grumbled, sleepily scratching the back of his head.

“I’ve been watching our little old... home videos,” he held up air quotes, “and I came across,” chuckling, he put a video tape into the small television in front of the group, “such a lovely little memory.”

A few seconds of fuzzy fast-forwarding later, the content of the tape made Diego’s stomach drop; it was an old ‘security tape,’ from when they all were 11 years old, of all six of his siblings pinning him down and tickling him to tears.

“I remember that. You guys tickled him until he cried,” Vanya exclaimed with an amused smile, watching the screen.

“Oh, he did more than cry, if I remember correctly,” Luther snickered.

Yes, they made him pee his pants from laughing so hard. No, he would never admit it or talk about it ever again.

His face began to heat up, and as soon as each and every one of his siblings glanced over at him, he bolted off of the couch and ran away; at least... he attempted to run away. He didn’t get very far before he was taken down to the floor by his giant, half-ape brother.

“NO! KLAUS! — LUTHER! — DAMMIT, FUCK OFF!!” Diego growled, trying his very best to fight off his siblings, but it was six to one, and practically hopeless. And he knew exactly what was about to happen.

Luther managed to grab Diego’s upper arms, pinning them to the floor, as Klaus and Vanya each straddled a thigh. Leaving Allison, Five, and, while only visible to Klaus, Ben standing by; almost exactly like old times. Ben’s go-to spot used to be on the thigh that Vanya was now on, but he couldn’t help but smile at the fact that their sister was finally getting herself involved.

Allison took no time to start poking around at his stomach with two index fingers, and Diego’s tough facade lasted about two seconds before he fell into a fit of gasps and yelps, trying not to laugh. “No! It —” His voice was strained and rather high-pitched.

“What? Does it tickle? Huh? Does it tickle, Diego?” Allison cooed in her best baby voice as she wiggled one nail around the surface of his belly.

He tried his hardest to frown but he just couldn’t hold back the giggles that were flooding out of him. It was just one finger, and no one else was doing anything except watching him; why the fuck was he so giggly already?

“I-it doesn’t! It doesn’t t-tick —” he stifled a laugh and squirmed, angling his body away from Allison’s finger ever so slightly.

“It doesn’t what?” Adding her other pointer finger, she poked and scratched around his abs.

“D-doesn’t... t-tickle! Shut up!” he squeaked, saying the word made the dam break again as his shoulders began to bounce.

As Diego gasped through his laughter, trying to keep it quiet, Five kneeled down to his other side, squeezing at his ribcage. “C’mon Diego, laugh it up, you know you want to,” his menacing smile and teasing words catching Diego off-guard; he wasn’t used to Five being in such a mood.

“S-s-stooop,” he whined, almost akin to a toddler about to snitch to their mom. Giggling into his shoulder, he felt his face begin to heat up.

As if he wasn’t about to scream already, Ben reached over Allison’s shoulder, lifted Diego’s shirt only slightly and wiggled a few fingers in and around Diego’s bellybutton.

“NO!” You’d think he was being stabbed by one of his knives with how loud he screamed, and how violently he’d flinched.

Five and Allison looked confused for a second before Klaus’ voice piped up, “Ooh, Ben’s getting the tickle button!” They all couldn’t help but grin; of course he was. The way Diego’s face quickly reddened, and the way his laugh’s pitch heightened was enough of a sign.

“It’s! No, it’s — it’s not a ti — GAH! I-it’s not a b-b-button!” That definitely wasn’t what he meant to say; he just didn’t want to say the dreaded word.

“Pretty sure it’s called a belly button, Diego. What are you talking about?” Vanya couldn’t help but giggle with sheer amusement.

“Yeah, and it is a tickle button because every time you touch it, this happens.” Klaus reached up to poke at his navel, which resulted in a ticklish yelp and approximately 5 successive curse words.

Klaus, with his other hand, then began to pinch and squeeze at his brother’s thigh and Vanya followed suit.

“NOHOHO, — SHIT, NO!” he hiccuped, much to his chagrin, “GUYS, FUCKING — FUCK!! FUCKING STOHOHOHOP, STOPSTOP, GOD D-DAMMIT!”

Five scoffed, a dimple showing on one of his cheeks, “And you all say I have a potty mouth.” His squeezes moved to his vigilante brother’s upper stomach, as Allison focused on the center, her nails now also finding his navel.

Squealing as his legs shook fervently, Diego tugged on his arms with all the strength he could muster (which wasn’t much) and squirmed around as much as he could. God, this was humiliating. He was painfully aware of the squeaky and pathetic sounds he was making but could not, for the life of him, stop making them, which made his face burn.

“Aww, Diego, you sound like a big baby!” Klaus laughed, poking up and down his designated thigh in no particular rhythm, before laughing again at Diego rapidly shaking his head, now practically unable to speak.

“Don’t make any noise and we’ll let you go.” Allison taunted over Diego’s uncharacteristically boisterous squeals, spidering five nails across the middle of his stomach.

“FUCK OFF!” he yelled before quickly changing his tone after she poked a torturous nail into his navel. “OKAY, OKAY, I WON’T MAKE ANY NOISE,” he rambled, turning his head away.

“Deal,” Allison smiled, beginning to drag a single nail in circles around his tummy, slowly but surely closing in on his goddamned belly button.

A sharp exhale left poor Diego’s nose, and she wasn’t even close to the middle of his stomach yet, but he knew what was coming... and that made it ten times worse.

“That wasn’t a noise, right?” Luther genuinely asked before Allison and Klaus shook their heads. “We’ll let it slide for wittle baby Diego’s sake.” Allison mused, relishing in Diego’s reaction as he shook his head into his shoulder and scrunched his face up.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle!” Klaus giggled, clearly having the time of his life.

Five chuckled, loving the nostalgic shared moment with his siblings, “Let’s hope you don’t piss yourself again, Diego.”

“Yeah, I was embarrassed for you,” Luther chuckled, holding his arms down, still with seemingly no effort at all.

He wanted so badly to tell them all to shut the hell up, but he couldn’t because he was too busy trying to swallow any noise he could possibly make. His shoulders bounced as laughter quietly bubbled in his throat.

The closer and closer Allison’s nail got to the hole in his middle, the harder it became to hold anything in. Out of anticipation alone, a humiliating giggle escaped his lips, and with the exaggerated coos that followed, he couldn’t hold back any longer. A screech preceded bouts of giggly, adorably contagious laughter.

“Aww, already? But I’m being so nice to you!” Allison chuckled, a hint of endearment in her voice.

As soon as her nail dipped in, he was done for. But then... she added another hand, and as Five continued to pinch around the skin, Klaus and Vanya reached up to vibrate claw-shaped hands into his lower tummy, and Ben squeezed at his sides. Fucking fuck.

“Tummy attack!” Klaus screeched as the others added in some laughs, teases, and coos.

The feeling of all ten hands (one pair of which was unbearably phantom-like) all scritching, poking, and digging in to his tummy was enough to convince him that he was on the brink of death, and Luther’s fingers twitching into his triceps just added to the torture. Tears began to sting his eyes, and his cheeks began to hurt. He was a squirmy, screeching, laughing mess. And ... oh god, his bladder was getting uncomfortable.

The mixture of a snort and growl that left his mouth made his siblings laugh. “PLEHEASE,” he cried out with a wide smile, “I CAHA-” his cackles faded into silent laughter as his whole body trembled.

A cacophony of coos and teases came from his brutal siblings as they did not let up; Diego felt like the tickling sensation on his stomach was somehow getting worse.

“STOP IT! STOPIT, STOP PLEEEA —” between hiccups, he mouthed the words “I can’t, I can’t!” as he shook his head into his arm, occasionally trying to bite at Luther’s hands. “I’M GONNA P — HA!! I’M GONNA — EEK! FUCK, NO, NO, ALLISON! GUHUHUYS!” Diego’s legs bounced beneath Klaus and Vanya when he felt a huge raspberry right over his belly button. The feeling of that mixed with 50 fingers on his tummy was too much. He just couldn’t.

Diego let out a loud, more urgent sounding yelp as he kicked a leg, “GUYS! GETUPGETUPGETUP!” He would rather die admit that he peed himself again, and he didn’t have to because Vanya noticed his pants’ spreading stain first, immediately standing up and covering her laughing mouth.

“Oh my God, guys!” She couldn’t help but crack up.

The rest of his siblings laughed when they realized; Five doubling over and Klaus cackling as he stood. The second that Luther let go of his arms, Diego held one of them over his crotch and the other over his face before turning away towards the bathroom. All the Hargreeves saw was a middle finger as their ticklish brother wobbily, and angrily, stormed away. He would not hear the end of this.

#ticklish!diego #tickle fic #tua tickle fic #tua #tua tickle fic week #my fics

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livingmybestfictionallife · 4 years

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Two Dharma Bums

Request (anon): Ayo I saw that you were taking request, can I have some platonic Klaus x reader? Maybe klaus just kind living with the reader and them bein all domestic n shit

Summary: Klaus and the reader bond over their shared love of the beatnik counterculture and Kerouac. Klaus convinces the reader to come with him and travel across the country to live out the reader’s dream of the freedom displayed in Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. Also, I’m sorry if it’s rough. It’s unedited and quickly written.

A/N: No pronouns are used for the reader, so this can be female!reader or male!reader. Also, Klaus is 10000% a beatnik in this time period and would have thrived with Burroughs, Ginsburg, and Kerouac.

Arriving in 1960 Dallas with nothing but the spirit of his deceased brother clinging to him, Klaus desperately tried to suppress the anxieties that immediately plagued him. Why was he here? Where were his siblings? Was he the only one who made it? What made him so special and deserving of life over his brothers and sisters? What was he going to do now?

After days without anything more than a passerby’s leftovers, Klaus was desperate for something to eat. He stumbled down street as he followed the familiar aroma of diner food. Growing up so close to Griddy’s, Klaus knew the smell of a moderately priced home-cooked style meal, and his stomach immediately twisted into angry knots of starvation. Without thinking anything through, he flung open the door and dropped himself into a booth near the front of the diner. Compared to the attire of the other inhabitants of the diner--the men’s nicely pressed trousers paired with comfortable overcoats and the women’s long skirts and petticoats--Klaus’s tattered and sleeveless army shirt, laced leather pants, shaggy hair, and dirt covered face instantly earned him the full attention of the diner.

All eyes being on Klaus wasn’t something he would normally turn down. His family knew he loved being the center of attention, and normally, this much attention would be cause for a snarky comment about his importance; however Klaus was tired. He was too tired to think about anything other than how much he wanted to sleep and eat, and that exhaustion led to his eyes drifting shut despite Ben’s continual pestering him to stay awake.

“Um, Y/N,” a young woman holding a notepad and pen said in an attempt to get her coworker’s attention.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked as you turned to meet your coworker’s eyes. With a furrowed brow, you examined her face. She normally wore a kind expression, full of smiles that earned a lot of tips, but her brows were furrowed and she wore an obviously concerned look over her face. Discreetly, she held her pen pointed in the direction of the front of the diner. The ball-point landed on a man with dark hair and grimy skin leaning against the wall with his legs stretched out across the booth and eyes fallen shut. “That’s my section today, isn’t it?” Y/N asked as the girl nodded in a way that instantly made Y/N assume she was thinking, ‘Better you than me.’

It was a chilly twenty-three degrees, which is fairly colder than normal for a Texas winter, and Y/N could see the man in the booth didn’t seem to be dressed appropriately for the weather that was only getting colder. The man shivered suddenly as Y/N reached the booth, and he shot upright as if he had been startled awake.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. Welcome to Norma’s Cafe,” Y/N greeted the man with a half-smile. “What can I get for you?”

“Water, please,” the man said in a somewhat pathetic and empathy inducing tone, “and if you have any crackers, I’ll take those too, please.” As the door to the diner opened, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the man begin to tremble as the bitter air found its way to his exposed skin.

“Sure thing,” Y/N sighed upon witnessing the tragedy that was this homeless man. Already, Y/N’s heart was softened into feeling complete sympathy for the stranger. After returning to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water, Y/N grabbed a pot of hot coffee a mug, and a plate of toast before returning to the table. “I put in an order of the special for you as well. I hope you like your eggs scrambled,” Y/N said and placed the tray of drinks and toast in front of the man.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he hurried to repeat the single syllable until the server turned around to face him again. “I can’t pay for this. I don’t have any money.”

“It’s on me,” Y/N said with a reassuring smile.

“No, I’m fine with some crackers. I’m skinny, I don’t need a lot of food,” he tried to argue with the kindness of the stranger before him.

“You’re my last customer before my shift is up,” Y/N said with a shrug. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.” Once again, Y/N rose in an attempt to wait in the kitchen for the food she ordered for this man only to have him protest one more time

“Can you at least keep me company? Maybe I can repay you with my witty sarcasm and great sense of humor.” A slight chuckle escaped Y/N’s lungs.

“You know I have to leave first to get your food, right?”

“So that’s a yes?” with a roll of Y/N’s eyes, a gentle smile fell over Klaus’s face. He was slightly surprised that Y/N decided to sit in the booth across from him as he ate, and even more so when he was encouraged to tell his ludicrous tale of how he ended up in Dallas in the first place. Their conversation was chaotic and jumped from so many different, interconnecting threads, somehow managing to find its way back to the point of origin after discussing Klaus’s past and Y/N’s seemingly illogical dreams and fascinations.

“Either you have a ridiculous imagination or your a beatnik like Ginsburg or Kerouac,” Y/N huffed and an entertained smirk flashed in Klaus’s direction.

“I’d consider myself to be more like Burroughs,” he retorted with a laugh as he finished the last of his food and sipped on the last of his coffee.

“Well, you certainly look like a dharma bum,” Y/N commented with an endearing and longing gaze. It had been a dream of Y/N’s to be able to pick up and leave, taking minimal belongings along on a journey across the country to a destination that had yet to present itself. Since reading Kerouac’s works, this dream had began to manifest as a pest in Y/N’s mind, constantly scratching at the part of the brain that controls impulses.

“In a way I am,” Klaus responded as he thought back over the course of his adult life. “I’ve never had a place of my own, no place to call home or people who wanted me around for longer than a few weeks at a time. Then there was the war, then ending up here.” His voice seemed to trail off as his mind went through everything he’d experienced in his short thirty years.

“I’ve read ‘On the Road’ and ‘The Dharma Bums’ so many times the spines are falling apart,” Y/N admitted. “There’s something so enchanting about that lifestyle that I can’t help but long for the open road and the uncertainty of where I’ll end up.” Y/N could see the ideas turning around in Klaus’s head as he thought over the words that had been dumped between them.

“Do you have a car?” It was a short and simple question that was answered with a nod of Y/N’s head. “Then let’s go.”

“Just like that? No thinking anything through? You don’t have any ties or anything keeping you here?”

“I just told you my true story. I have nothing and no one,” Klaus stated, subsequently earning an annoyed grunt from Ben. He could tell Y/N was thinking the offer over and the idea repeated in both of their heads like a broken record. “Come on,” Klaus urged, “You’ll be surprised by how easy the act of leaving is, and how good it feels! The world is rich with possibilities,” he loosely quoted the line from On the Road that circulated throughout Y/N’s mind.

“I have nothing to offer anyone but my own confusion,” Y/N responded with another quote, hoping Klaus would understand.

“What are you getting here that you can’t get anywhere else?” Klaus prompted. He had leaned across the booth and was excitedly staring into Y/N’s eyes as his heart raced at the possibility of not having to be alone anymore. “Because in the end...” A hopeful smile formed on Klaus’s face as he began yet another famous quote from Kerouac.

“You won’t remember the time you spent working in an office or mowing your lawn,” Y/N continued.

“Climb the damn mountain!”

*** *** *** *** *** ***

As weeks turned into months and months turned into years, Y/N and Klaus traveled across the country, hitching rides from farmers, truck drivers, and anyone who was still kind enough not to discourage the allure of being a vagabond.

Stories and poetry were the fuel they doused on the fires of their freedom, and always they found themselves immersed in the artistic and melodic talent of telling tales the other seemed to posses. Throughout their happiness and sincerest sense of freedom, they would occasionally find themselves seeking the comfort of one another. At night, often when the music, poetry, and stories had fallen asleep with their traveling companions--Klaus’s silver tongue and ability to fabricate realities out of small truths had accumulated quite a large following throughout their journey--their minds would drift. In these moments of perceived weakness, that they let their vulnerability shine through to one another.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked upon noticing Klaus sitting before a fire beneath the stars of California.

“What’s in store for me in the direction I don’t take?” Klaus asked, once again mirroring the words of Kerouac to allow for the deeper meaning to seep into Y/N’s soul.

“It seems like what you have done, in starting an unorganized cult, is the most absurd thing that could have happened in all of the endless possibilities presented to you at every decision you’ve made.”

“But what about my family. What if they’re alive and they’re looking for me? I thought the love of the people I surrounded myself with, the like-mindedness of the commune, would be enough.” Y/N lowered to be beside Klaus as he stared up at the stars. Silently, the pair sat, feeling the heat of the fire against their faces, until Y/N leaned against Klaus’s side and he fell gently into the genuine human connection.

“Unlike Kerouac, I’m not a believer of Buddhism, but finding enlightenment is an important theme throughout his novels. Maybe the enlightenment you’ve found is that this life that you’ve found on the path that you’ve taken isn’t the one that you’re searching for,” Y/N’s wisdom rolled through Klaus’s mind as he fell backwards into the grass in frustration.

“I took this path in hopes of gaining happiness,” Klaus sighed angrily as he slammed his fists into the soil beside him. “I failed my family and I failed at this; this concept of letting go and accepting the endless possibilities before me!”

“You didn’t fail,” Y/N stated firmly in defiance of Klaus’s self-depreciating words. “Experience is the only thing that can teach you. If I were to give you only water and crackers all that time ago back at the diner, we wouldn’t be in California right now. If you chose a different diner to fall into, you would have never met me, and your life would be even more miserable,” Y/N joked and nudged Klaus’s arm in an attempt to invoke the smallest of smiles in his face. “If I would have ignored your idea of taking to the road as two dharma bums searching for a sign for where our lives were supposed to go, I’d probably still be wasting away as a server in that diner. Just because you got to the place we set our course for doesn’t mean you’re at the destination you need to be at. It took getting here with all of these people following us, following you, for you to realize where your passion and happiness lies.”

With a tear in each of his eyes, Klaus sat up and pulled Y/N close to him. As he felt Y/N’s arms fall around him, a reassuring sigh left his mouth and the tears of joy fell onto Y/N’s shoulder. Klaus tightened his grasp on his friend, and hesitantly spoke. “Thank you, Y/N. I know this distance is what you wanted and that the road was kinder to you than to me, but I have to go back to Dallas. I’ll miss you, but I’m grateful to have met you.” Slowly, Klaus rose from where he sat and blew a kiss to the person who had been at his side through it all. It was all he could do as he hid the pain of losing the first person who had shown him kindness three years ago.

“My path is with you. You’re my friend, Klaus, but more importantly, you’re my family now. If not for you, my life wouldn’t have changed. If not for me, yours could have gotten worse. Our paths were intertwined for a reason, and I’m not going to ignore that. When you need me, I’ll be there. That’s what family is for.”

Klaus smiled as Y/N strode to his side and the pair hurried off towards the van. The same thoughts and anxieties that flooded their minds when they left Dallas floated in their minds like a veil of mist that clouded their vision, but this time was slightly different. Sure they had many miles ahead of them, hardly any money to afford the trip back, were in dire need of sleep, and didn’t know the way back, but they knew where they were headed and why, and they had each other, and that was enough for now.

Tags: @multifandom-ramblings, @bisexual-with-adhd, @ne0n-gh0st, @thehanwen @helena-way07

#klaus hargreeves #umbrella academy klaus #klaus x reader #the umbrella academy klaus #number four #the umbrella academy number four #tua four #tua2 #tua klaus hargreeves #hargreeves #Robert Sheehan #klaus hargreeves x reader #anon request #the umbrella academy season 2 #rob sheehan

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