#anyway i know i normally ask people not to dunk on my family members when i complain about them in posts like this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kurt-nightcrawler · 5 years ago

Text

Together Again

John Allerdyce x Female Reader

Request: Hi! I love your your writing (especially the mother nature ones and crush honestly,,,,, art lmao) and I was wondering if you could write something else for John? Like honestly anything I'm just really starved for pyro content 😂 if you don't want to then uh dw 💜

A/N: if you guys want a blurb about wedding vows or baby making sex let me know!!

Warnings: teen pregnancy, swearing, mentions of sex, and some angst.

Word Count: 8.9k

“Hey, I know it’s been a while, but I miss you… and I know I shouldn’t… but I can’t help myself. I’m really sorry for everything I did. I hurt you, I acted out, I ruined all the relationships I had at the mansion…” His voice faltered as tears fell from his eyes.

“Um, you don’t have to call me back… I’m just really sorry for being such an asshole… You deserved better…”

You jokingly scoffed to yourself.

Typical John, You mused. Never realizing his potential.

“I love you…”

The voice message ended. You felt your eyes watering. Despite it all, you missed him. You missed John so much.

He joined Magento’s army, brotherhood, and left you. You didn’t want to side with either of them, Charles or Erik.

You wanted to run away somewhere, live a small-town life, maybe in Europe or something. You hadn’t really figured out all the details, but you assumed that figuring it out as you went along would suffice. As long as you had John by your side, nothing could get in your way.

But then he wasn’t by your side. And your entire world came crashing down.

You had woken up to an empty bed. Unusual, since John was in it with you the night before.

His clothes were gone, and it felt like he had never been there to start with.

You got yourself out of bed, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas. You wanted to know where he went.

You made it downstairs to the den, where your friends were seated with some staff members.

“Ah, (Y/N),” Xavier said. “You’re awake. Please sit down.”

You sat down on the couch next to Kitty. “What’s going on? Where’s John?”

“Allerdyce left,” Logan stated with a bitter tone.

“Left? What do you mean he left?”

“Magento is forming a new brotherhood of mutants, and he’s planning to attack Worthington industries.”

“Is this about the “cure”?” You asked.

Xavier nodded, “John left to join him.”

No… You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “That can’t be true. He wouldn’t just leave and not tell anyone. He would have told me if he was thinking about joining forces with Magento!”

“(Y/N),” You looked over at Bobby, “We had an argument in our room late last night. I tried to convince him to stay but—“

“No…” You were shaking. “You’re— you’re lying!” You stood up too quickly and you got a head rush.

“I wish I was—“

You felt like you were going to be sick. You could hear the blood pounding in your ears. Your vision was blurry, and you were sweating.

You ran to the nearest trash can and dunked your head in as you heaved.

Kitty held your hair back and rubbed your back. “Let it out. Let it out, (Y/N)...”

You puked your guts out until you didn’t have the energy to continue. Then, you turned over, moving your head out of the trash and started crying.

No one knew what to do about you— and Magneto trying to kill a bunch of people was a bit more of a pressing issue.

You didn’t want to go to Worthington industries and fight. You didn’t want to see him. You wanted to be left alone.

Plus, with your mutation, the X-Men thought you’d be a good guard for the mansion if anything happened.

It was a few days before anyone came back, and while they were gone you caught a stomach bug. Constantly vomiting, bad cramps, and your chest was extremely sore.

You didn’t know what to do about it, so you kept a trash can nearby and drank lots of water and took some ibuprofen.

When everyone returned, Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue, all ran to hug you, knowing you’d need it.

“I punched him for you,” Bobby whispered. You held him tighter and let silent tears rain down your face as you hugged him.

The three of them told you about the battle, and what happened to everyone, and a new addition to the team— Scott’s younger brother, Alex Summers, who had apparently been friends with one of the brotherhood members, but decided to switch sides and support his brother.

He was in the medical bay downstairs with everyone else, getting checked out.

“What have you been up to?”

You let out a weak laugh, “Nothing much. I’ve been watching tv and puking my guts out the past few days…”

Your friends nodded in sympathy. “You’re probably sick from all the stress…” Rogue commented.

“Yeah, that’s probably it. When it’s a good time, I’ll ask Dr. Grey to give me some medicine other than pain killers.”

“Good idea…”

“I’m gonna go shower,” Rogue said, getting up from the couch.

“Me too! Kitty replied. “Are you going to change Bobby?”

He looked over at her, “Uh, yeah. I will in a little bit.” The girls walked off, satisfied with his answer.

You patted Bobby’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t talk him out of leaving…”

“He’s… He’s stubborn. I don’t think any of us could have convinced him to stay…”

“(Y/N)...” Bobby sighed.

“He never told me about even wanting to leave!” Your words stung in the air like venom.

“He’s not coming back, is he?”

Bobby shook his head, “I don’t think so. After the fight, the brotherhood just kind of wandered off… We have no idea where any of them went—“

“And that includes John…”

There was a pregnant pause before Bobby spoke up.

“He really loves you.”

“Not enough to stay,” You scoffed.

“He just didn’t want you to get hurt… And while he’s dumb as shit, deep down, he meant well…”

“It’s just…” You snuffled your nose. “Three years, B. We were together for three years. He confided in me, and we trusted each other and we were gonna move out to the countryside in France or maybe Denmark…” Your cries interrupted your words, and all Bobby could do was hug you. Trying his best to comfort you.

You weren’t sick with a stomach bug from stress— you were pregnant.

It was simultaneously the best and worst news of your life. Everyone was supportive and kept reminding you, you didn’t have to keep it, you were only 18.

You weren’t sure what you were going to do. John wasn’t there and you had almost no money.

You didn’t want to raise a child alone, but you didn’t want to send them into foster care either.

It was a messy situation, and with each week passing by, your baby grew, reminding you to make a decision.

“I’m going to keep it. I’m going to stay here and raise my baby. It’ll probably be a mutant, so what better place for a mutant child to grow up?”

Everyone was excited for you and your baby. Kitty was excited to “be an aunt”, Rogue was excited, ablet a little nervous, with her no-touch rule, and Bobby just wanted you to be happy.

You found out you were having a boy, and you were so excited, you cried. Jean and Ororo threw a baby shower for you and Bobby, Logan, and Scott helped redo your room so it could function for the baby too.

Everything was going great. So great, in fact, you didn’t think about him most nights.

You still longed for John, and you wanted him there with you, to see your baby at the ultrasound screenings, feel him kick for the first time, and decide on names. But you had to remain strong. With or without John, you needed to be a good mom for your son.

Before and after his birth.

No one was allowed on the roof normally, but you were especially not allowed in your condition.

Yet you went up there anyway, for a moment of quiet and alone time.

You had snuck up to the roof before in your 4 years at Xavier’s. Most times it had been to hide with John. Or just lay and star gaze— your head resting on his chest, and his hands either preoccupied with his flames, or they’d be in your hair.

You placed a hand on your stomach, thinking it would maybe soothe you, but it didn’t really work.

You heard footsteps, and you quickly looked over to see who it was.

“Sorry— I uh, I didn’t think anyone was up here.” He started to leave.

“Alex, no, you’re fine. You can stay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! Of course.” He walked over and sat next to you.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good, good.” He nodded. “How have you been?”

“Same as you…” You both awkwardly laughed together.

“That’s good.”

“Mmhmm…”

Alex shifted in his spot awkwardly.

“Are you uh… are you excited about being a mom?”

You laughed. He was so nervous. “Yeah. I mean, I’m nervous as hell, but I have all my friends around, more than willing to help me, and my life is secure and safe.”

Alex nodded, shy and awkward, yet attentive.

“Is… Is Bobby excited about being a dad?”

You were shocked. “Bobby’s gay.”

“I know, but wait— isn’t he— is he—“ Alex was so confused.

“Bobby’s probably my best friend here, his old roommate, um, he’s the father…”

Alex’s face was red as a tomato. “Oh…”

He knew about Bobby’s old roommate, seeing as he took over his spot in his room. He didn’t know much, and he was pretty sure he died or something.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine. You didn’t know…”

“Did he… did he die?”

You rubbed your eyes. “No… he left to join the brotherhood, days before I found out I was pregnant…” Alex listened to your every word. He still didn’t know who this guy was, considering he too, joined the brotherhood during the battle at Worthington industries, but so did a ton of other mutants.

“I don’t really know how to contact him now, and… I don’t really want to at the moment.”

“You don’t have to…” Alex said. “He left, and that’s his problem.”

“Yep… And besides, I’m not alone. I have my friends and family here.”

“Yeah, see! You’re doing great.”

You laughed at Alex’s words. He was cute and dorky. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You were crying. Crying in pain, in joy, in sorrow, in relief— you were extremely emotional. Your baby was finally born.

Once he got all cleaned up, umbilical cord cut, and was in your arms, laying on your bare chest for some bonding, people started coming in.

At first, it was just Bobby, Kitty, Rogue, and Alex. They had some flowers, balloons, and presents with them.

“We got you some things…” Rogue began.

“Awww... how are you guys?” Kitty interrupted.

“We’re fine. He’s asleep.” You glanced down at your chest.

“He’s so small.” Alex’s eyes were glossy.

“He’s all pink,” Bobby observed.

Kitty hit him on the arm, “He just came out of her vagina!”

You laughed, “He was a C-section.”

“Oh, I was a tumor baby.” Everyone looked at Bobby like he grew a second head. “What?”

Rogue rolled her eyes, “Anyway, we all got you a card and some gifts.” She set them down on the ledge near the visiting chairs and window.

“You guys didn’t have to do that.”

“Most of them are for the little guy,” Alex said.

“Still! He’s gonna be so spoiled…”

Your nurse walked in after you said that. “Alright mama, we gotta get him weighed and everything. Just get stuff for the birth certificate…” She set papers down on your table tray. “If you’re up for it, you can fill stuff out now, or have someone else do it for you… We’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Aww, bye…” Your friends cooed at your son.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “He’ll be in the nursery, and you can go see him in a little bit. Then if he’s fine, he’ll be back here with me and you guys can hold him.”

“We can’t stay in here forever. This room is too small, plus Scott and his posse wanna come say hi.”

“Right, right.” You took a sip from your water bottle the hospital gave you and looked at the birth certificate and other papers with it.

“So… What’s his name?”

“I don’t know…” You admitted. You hadn’t really thought of a name.

Well, you had, but it was kind of stupid.

You wanted to name him after John, his father because he was one of the few things you had left of John. You also wanted to name him after Bobby or Alex, because they’d been some of your best friends and there for you during your pregnancy.

“Well, you have sixty days to think about it.” Bobby reminded you.

“Yeah,” You yawned. “Oh boy… Sorry— Sorry, I just—“

“Nonsense. You gave birth like what maybe an hour or two ago? Take a nap. You deserve it,” Kitty told you.

“Yeah, we’ll go down to the nursery and see if we can spot him.”

“Okay, you guys sure?”

“Yes, mom,” Alex teased. “We’re sure.”

“Okay, okay.”

“We’ll be back.”

Once the four shuffled out of your room, you quickly examined the birth certificate.

You took a pen and wrote down your name, John’s, and the perfect name for your son.

“Johnathan-Robert Alexander (Y/L/N)! Get back here!” Rogue scolded.

“Sorry Marie, I just saw a cool bird, and it flew away…”

She ruffled his hair, “Your mom is gonna be mad if we don’t eat lunch. I let you play outside for an extra twenty minutes.”

“Oh, okay…”

It had been six years since your son was born. You named him after his dad and your two best guy friends. His nickname was Jr, or Junior, because of his initials.

He took after you mostly, except he had John’s eyes and mutation.

You and your friends all became X-Men and teachers at the mansion, and they all pitched in to help raise Junior, despite you telling them over and over again that they didn’t have to.

It wasn’t easy. You were a young mom— there were some pity looks at the grocery store, people asking if Junior was your little brother, you had no biological family around, despite the X-Men making up for it, and you were single.

Not the end of the world, but sometimes, late at night, you thought about John.

You know he did what he thought was right, somehow. You just wish he didn’t leave. Keeping you safe, what bullshit.

Sometimes you resented him and you were glad he was gone. Sometimes you cried and wished he was there with you.

He would have been a great dad. Nervous, and a little unsure at times, sure, but you know he’d love Junior and do anything for him.

You were grading papers when your phone rang.

You didn’t recognize the number, and you had no idea who’d be calling you at noon in the middle of the week.

It stopped ringing and you didn’t look at it again for the rest of the hour.

You glanced over at your phone as you took a bite from your salad. The caller left a message in your voice box, which was weird since spam calls usually don’t do that.

Maybe it was someone with the wrong number, thinking you were a lost loved one.

Oh god! I better listen to the message!

You picked up your phone and went to your messages.

Your finger didn’t even hover over and hesitate when it hit the play button.

You were crying. Six years later. Six years later, and he finally reached out.

You didn’t know what to do.

What did he want?

You rubbed your temple. What if he’d been in trouble with some bad people? What if he was dying?

You quickly selected his number on your screen.

“Would you like to call? Yes or no?”

Your thumb hovered over yes.

Why didn’t you just push it? What were you so afraid of?

“God…” You groaned. “What am I doing?”

“No! No, no… I have to call him back. Urgh!” You ran a hand through your hair.

“Whooooo…” You hit yes, out your phone up to your ear, and let the phone ring.

You were sweating and your heart was pounding like a drum.

What if he didn’t pick up?

“Hello?”

“Hi, John, it’s me… (Y/N).”

You asked him to come to the mansion, to sit down and talk to you. He seemed nervous over the phone, but he agreed to come and talk.

“He called you? After six years of nothing?” Kitty scoffed in disbelief.

“My number isn’t the same as it was in 2006. Plus who knows what he’s been up too since…” Your words trailed off.

“Why didn’t you ask to meet up at like a Starbucks or the library?” Alex asked.

“I want him to meet Junior.”

“Are you insane?!” Rogue asked, looking over at you.

“The mansion is a place we’re both familiar with, and he doesn’t have to see him right away…”

The three all had unsure looks on their faces.

“It’s my decision. And while you’ve all been more than supportive, I believe he has a right to meet his son. He doesn’t have to be in his life permanently, as much as I’d like that, but he should at least know about him. See him once, maybe.”

“You’re right,” Kitty spoke up. “He deserves to meet his kid. We may not like him or want him around, but Junior is his son. We can’t change that.”

“Kitty’s right. John’s not the greatest, but he always tried when it came to you, and he deserves to meet his son.”

“When is he coming over?”

“Tomorrow at 10.”

“Hey, kiddo.” You slowly opened your son’s door and peaked in. “You ready for bed?”

“Yep!” He popped the p. “I fed George and Rock and Socks.” Those were the fish in his little aquarium. “I brushed my teeth, and I put my pajamas on!”

You gave him a hug, “That’s great, sweetie!”

Junior sat under his covers in his bed, and you sat on the edge. “What’d you do in your classes today?”

“Well, Ms. Monroe read us a book about a farm where the cows found a typewriter and made the farmer change the farm up!”

Wow, starting them young.

“And then she taught us about different types of plants. Did you know broccoli is actually a flower?”

“I did not,” You blinked.

“Does this mean I don’t have to eat it anymore? People don’t eat flowers!”

Oh, Junior thought he was so slick.

“Actually kiddo, some flowers are edible. So, no, you can’t cut out broccoli.”

He frowned, “But I don’t wanna eat flowers!”

“Rules are rules… And besides, you wanna eat healthily and get strong, don’t you?”

“Yeah!” Junior’s face lit up. “So I can beat Gabe when we wrestle!”

Gabe was Scott and Alex’s 10-year-old brother, who also went to Xavier’s school. He was one of the few kids even close to Junior’s age, making them almost best friends.

“See! That’s the spirit! Now, do you want me to read to you before you go to sleep?”

“Hmm… Hmm… Hmm…”

You laughed a little, “I’ll take that as a no.”

Junior yawned, “Hmm…”

“I’ll let you get some sleep, okay?” You got up, bending down to kiss his forehead.

“Okay, mom… Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetie.”

You closed the door behind you as you stepped out. You stood there for a moment to take a breather.

John was going to love him, you weren’t worried about that. You were worried if you still had feelings for him and you were acting irrationally.

No, You decided as you brushed your teeth in your bathroom. I’m not acting irrationally. I’ve wanted to talk to him since he left. I have no anger or sadness left in me, and I just want to catch up.

“(Y/N),” Professor Xavier spoke into your mind. “You’re making part of the mansion shake.”

“Shit!” You dropped your toothbrush into the sink and tried to pace your breath.

“It’s alright, dear.”

You had geological manipulation, and while you had practically mastered it, you still struggled at times.

You rubbed your face with a towel and sighed.

You knew getting any sleep was out the door at that point.

You must have fallen asleep at some point and gotten some sleep because you woke up almost an hour late.

“No, no, no!” You were frantic, slipping on your clothes, trying to brush your hair and somehow rock half-assed bed head and no makeup so you could be presentable in under five minutes.

“Hey, (Y/N), you slept through your alarm—“

“I know, Bobby!” You were running down the hall to get to your classroom.

“So I got Junior dressed and ready for the day—“

You slowed down to stop and open your door, looking at Bobby. “Oh my god. Thank you so much…” You instantly wrapped him into a hug.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…”

“I’m just so worried… about John and—“

“You’re gonna be fine,” He soothingly rubbed one of his hands on your back.

“I got no sleep last night… I’m anxious about John coming back too. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Yeah, together.”

You stood peeking through a window, waiting for him.

10:00 came, and a rugged, black Jeep pulled through the gates.

You watched him step out of the car— brown leather jacket, facial hair, and he looked slightly more muscular than you’d last seen him. He’d aged, just like you, but not in a bad way, despite the fact he looked a bit tired. But then again, so did you.

You left your hiding spot and went outside to greet him.

“Hey!”

“Hey!” He quickly checked you out, but it didn’t go undetected by you. “Wow, you look— great!”

“You too.” You stood there, face to face, unsure if a hug or a handshake was appropriate.

“So, how have you been?”

“Good, um— well, a lot has changed since you left…”

John nodded awkwardly. “But uh… I could give you a tour. Tell me about what you’ve been up to?”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“So… Bobby, Rogue, Kitty, and I all became teachers...“ John chuckled. “What? Hard to believe?”

“No, no…” He shook his head. “Are Bobby and Rogue still together?”

You laughed, “No way! Bobby came out of the closet and Marie sees some guy from New Orleans, I think his name is Remy? I’m not really sure…

John smiled, “Yeah, he told me— junior year, he didn’t like girls.”

“It hurt, Rogue,” You admitted. “But she understood.”

“Well, that’s good, I suppose…”

“Yeah, yeah.” You wandered down the halls a bit, before speaking up.

“So… what have you been up to?”

“Well, I lived in Genosha for awhile…”

“Magento’s hippie colony?”

“Hey!” He jokingly scoffed. “It’s not a hippie colony!”

“Okay, Mister.”

“Anyway, I uh, I started writing…”

You rose your brows in surprise, “Really? What do you write about?”

“Romance, mostly…” John was flustered. “Gothic romance. One of the people on Genosha knew a guy, he’s a literary agent—“

“Wait, are you…?”

“Yeah, I’m an actual published author. I only have two books out right now, the first one came out in 2008, and the other just last year.”

You were baffled, all this time, and you could have contacted him sooner somehow. “I had no idea… congratulations! That’s amazing!”

“Thank you…”

“Yeah, of course. You do anything else?”

“My mom died two years ago… I went to her funeral… I saw my dad.”

“How’d that go?”

“Not great… but, you know how it is.” You nodded in sympathy. “Anyway, what’s new with you? Besides teaching… Any new X-Men? Are you… seeing anyone…?”

“Scott’s younger brother joined the team, and he has another brother—“

“Mommy! Mom!” You froze. John noticed your shift in demeanor and glanced from you to Junior.

“Junior, you’re supposed to be in class.”

“I was, but then Stacy Brown, the girl with the lizard tongue, threw up, so Stacy got taken to Dr. Grey’s lab and Ororo let us leave early.”

“I know who Stacy Brown is, sweetie. You don’t have to tell me she has a lizard tongue. That’s not very nice to point out people’s mutations.”

Junior frowned and sulked a little, “I’m sorry…”

“I forgive you.”

John’s eyes kept moving between you and Junior. When did you have a kid? He couldn’t be any older than five or six.

“Hi. Who are you?” The kid spoke to him.

“Oh,” John crouched down to equal eye level. “I’m John… What’s your name?”

“My name is John, too! Well, actually Johnathan-Robert, I was named after my dad and one of his closest friends, even though his name isn’t actually Johnathan. Everyone calls me Junior though, cause my initials are JR.”

John was floored. He had a son.

He had a son, and he left him. He left you.

Oh, God…

“Uh, Mr… Mr. John?” Junior asked. “Why are you crying?”

“Uh, Junior, sweetie…” You trailed off. “He’s your dad.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry…”

John wiped his eyes and stood up, “What for?”

“I made you cry… I’m really sorry…”

“It’s okay. They were happy tears.” He rubbed his eyes.

“Oh… Do you wanna see my fish? I have 3 of them in my room, they live in a terrarium!”

“Aquarium,” You corrected him.

“That’s what I said!”

John smiled, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Come on, then!” Junior grabbed his hand and led him upstairs.

John moved back in.

Not with you necessarily, but he wanted to be a part of Junior’s life. He felt like the world’s biggest asshole for leaving days before you found out you were pregnant.

He joined the brotherhood because he felt like you were the only person who saw him as a decent human being. He didn’t agree with everything Xavier said and stood for, and he was tired of people comparing him to Bobby.

He wanted to fight for what he thought was right. He wanted to be able to just do what he wanted without hurting the one person he cared about. Which is why he didn’t tell you he was leaving.

But he knew he hurt you. He knew soon as the battle was over and he claimed one of the small homes on Genosha as his.

He was scared to reach out the first few months. And then he assumed you left Xavier’s and he didn’t know how to contact you from there. He only just got your number because a graduate from Xavier’s moved to Genosha, giving him your number and telling him you hadn’t left.

He didn’t even hesitate to call you. He didn’t even care if you cursed him out on the other line, yelling about how you never wanted to see him again. He just wanted to hear your voice one more time.

What he wouldn’t have done to hold you in his arms again, feel your soft, pink lips against his, your bodies pressed against each other, becoming one.

But he knew he didn’t deserve any of it. He didn’t deserve you. He knew he fucked up.

And what hurt him the most was he thought he was worse than his own father. The one who beat him, called him a monster, sent him away to a foreign country, left in the care of strangers— he thought he was worse because he wasn’t there in the beginning. He wasn’t there for the doctor’s appointments, the birth, or his first steps and words.

You talked to him. Tried to convince him he wasn’t bad, while still holding your ground and making him responsible for just up and leaving.

“I should have gone with you. You know I would have. I would have followed you to the fucking moon if you asked.”

“I know… I just thought keeping you out of all that was the best choice.”

“We were fucking kids John! We really didn’t know much. We still don’t! We’re 23 with a child.”

“You don’t have to forgive me. You don’t have to love me again. I just want to be in my son’s life, please.” He was trying his best to not cry again.

“Most of the time you’re a great guy. I want you in Junior’s life… I just… I don’t know if we can ever go back to how it was before.” I still love you, but I’m not ready to rush into anything…

“Yeah, no, I get that. You have no reason to trust me, and no obligations to date me…”

You sighed, “I want us to be friends. Not for anyone’s sake but for our own… because as much as I should… I don’t hate you.”

“Thank you.” His voice was breaking.

“Friends?”

He nodded, “Yeah, friends.” You wrapped him in your arms in place of a handshake. Neither of you said anything. Nothing needed to be said.

John had been living at the X-Mansion for almost two years. He taught an English class or two and continued to write more gothic romance novels while spending as much time as he could with Junior.

He became friends with Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue again. He became friends with Alex. He was friends with you, despite wanting more.

But he knew he didn’t deserve it, and he was just glad to get what he could.

“So… what do they like, do in Romania?”

You looked up from your lesson plan for the week and gave John a funny look.

“What do they do in Romania? Aren’t you the one writing about vampires? You should know.”

“Yeah, but you’re a history teacher!”

“I teach kids about the civil war, Marie Antionette, and the Han dynasty.”

You sometimes worked together in the library or in one of your rooms or classrooms. John— writing the next chapter of his novel— and you, usually doing lesson plans or grading tests.

“What are you writing about anyway?” You turned in your chair to watch John scribble words down in his notebook. He preferred to write down on paper first, then type it up.

“Well, she’s making Von take her on a date since she’s been living with him for a month and he confessed he liked her.”

“Isn’t Von a vampire?”

John nodded, “Half. Anyway, he’s gonna like, take her stargazing on the rooftop. I don’t know what else they’re gonna do after that.”

You pondered for a moment, “We used to do that all the time…”

“Yeah, um…”

You laughed a little, teasing him. “Do you base all your stories on our romantic endeavors?”

“Not all of them!” He defended.

“That so?” John hummed in response. “What has the great womanizer, St. John Allerdyce, been up to in his love life the last few years?”

“Not much,” He admitted. “I went on a few dates, a handful of hookups, but nothing really worked out…” He tried to shake the feeling of longing for you off, “What about you?”

“Same as you. Not much luck, especially with being a young mom, and raising a kid with two of her best friends who are guys, it tends to… scare people away…”

John swung his legs to the side of the bed, about to get up.

“They’re pussies,” He said while looking at you.

You nodded, not noticing he got up, “Yeah, besides I’m busy…”

Your train of thought was forgotten as John’s eyes looked into yours. You weren’t speaking.

Your eyes glanced down at his lips. They were soft and pink.

You cleared your throat, trying to distract yourself from your thoughts, unaware John’s brain was on the same page as yours.

He unexpectedly pressed his lips against yours. You were wide-eyed with shock as he did so. You weren’t expecting that.

But you were glad it happened.

He broke away too quickly for your liking. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Do it again.”

“What?” John almost thought you were kidding.

“Kiss me again, Sinjin.”

And so he did. His lips collided with yours, your mouths moving in sync.

His weight and force caused you to fall back in your chair, with John straddling your waist. Your hands were tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to moan a little against your mouth. His hands were roaming up and down your body.

You partially ground against his crotch, causing him to break his lips away from yours and curse.

It didn’t last long, as he went back to kissing your lips like a horny teenager, pulling your shirt up off of you.

“Wait, wait, stop.” John froze, looking you directly in the eyes, his face barely two inches away from yours.

“Is everything alright?”

“Buy me dinner first, before you undress me, okay?”

You didn’t want to get carried away. You wanted a clear mind before you slept with him again. Kissing and going on a few dates and whatever else you were doing was enough at that moment.

He nodded, in total awe of you— The small details of your face one could only see if they were this close— “Tomorrow at 7. Does that work for you?”

“That’s perfect.”

“So I need you— if you can’t that’s fine! You have lives of your own— but I kind of need someone to watch Junior for the night.”

You really hated asking people to babysit, but it was Kitty and Rogue. They wouldn’t care.

“Not that we won’t do it,” Kitty said. “But why can’t John watch him?”

“Well—“

suddenly, Bobby burst through the door, screaming the girls’ names.

“KATHERINE! ANNA MARIE! I HAVE HUGE NEWS!”

“What is it?”

“John—“ He looked at you, and then stopped his sentence.

“Oh… I’m assuming you told them.”

“Told us what?” Rogue asked.

“John and (Y/N) are going on a date.”

“Finally,” Kitty let out.

You were confused, “What do you mean, finally?”

“Are— are you serious?” Bobby asked in disbelief.

You nodded.

“You two are so in love, it’s sickening sometimes!” Rogue scoffed.

“We are not!” You knew that wasn’t true. You obviously still had feelings and so did he, but love? You weren’t sure if it was that.

“Please, he never stopped loving you, and you never stopped loving him.”

“Bobby…”

“(Y/N)...”

You groaned.

“Look, I’m not gonna push you into saying the L-word anytime soon, but the guy writes romance novels for fuck’s sake! You’re gonna have a great time no matter what.”

Yeah, you thought to yourself as John drove down the crowded New York roads.

We’re gonna have a great time no matter what.

You went to some restaurant that just opened. It wasn’t too fancy or too casual, but since it was new, you still needed a reservation.

After dinner, you walked around the city streets, just catching up, looking at shops and apartment buildings and all the people.

It almost felt like you were teenagers again.

Holding hands, watching the sunset…

John pulled out his phone to snap a few pictures. You decided to try and photobomb, making dumb faces and peeking your head into view of the camera.

John shifted his hands and arms so you were the camera’s main focus.

The way the sun's rays reflected through the lens behind you making you glow, (John already thought you were most of the time), your goofy smile— he took a picture, but to him, it looked more like a renaissance painting.

He glanced away from his phone to see you without a lense.

You still looked like a heavenly being to him. You always did— strong, beautiful, intelligent, witty, and you were an amazing mom.

He didn’t have anyone to use as a base for “mom skills”, but he didn’t need that to know you were amazing. Not just with Junior, but all the young kids at the mansion.

Of course, there were times when you faltered or felt like you weren’t good enough, times where you would make the mansion shake on accident, but everyone had weak points.

John didn’t see you as any lesser for them, he knew your life wasn’t easy. Even if he had never left, it wouldn’t have been perfect.

But he couldn’t dwell on the past forever, despite how much he wanted to at some of his weaker moments.

“Whatcha looking at?”

He blinked. “You… The sunset… You look like an angel.”

You nervously laughed, “Stop it.”

John put his phone away and got back to your side.

“I’m serious, you’re beautiful…”

Your gaze fell down to your feet, not unnoticed by John.

“Hey,” He cupped your face with his hand, forcing your gaze on him. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me right now, but you will one day… I promise you that.”

His hand faltered and you hugged him.

“God, you’re so nice to me.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He plainly stated.

You narrowed your eyes at him and pointed a finger. “No self-deprecating talk!”

John laughed at your attitude shift. It was cute. “Alright, but that means nothing from you either.“

“Fine.”

John kissed the top of your head, causing you to smile like a madman. It made his heart flutter a bit.

Your first date was almost two years ago. It seemed so long ago, yet almost like it was yesterday.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm.

You immediately woke up, but John just groaned and stirred in his sleep a little.

He had an arm wrapped around you, so you had to wiggle your way out of bed. “Come on, sleepyhead…”

John groaned some more, his grip on you just got tighter.

“If you don’t let me out, I’ll pee on the bed.”

John’s eyes shot open, and you smirked to yourself, having been victorious.

“That would be hot.”

You gagged as you walked into your bathroom. “Gross!”

John followed you, “You know I’m just joking.”

You shook your head, a smile evident on your face. “I know, I know.”

You turned the sink on and began washing your face. John used the empty space in the mirror to brush out his bed head.

You caught him starring at you a few times as you both went through your morning routines.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” He kissed the crook of your neck. “Today’s just gonna be a good day. That’s all. I can feel it.”

You let his words sink in for a moment.

“Yeah, today’s gonna be a good day.”

That’s when John knew. His instinct, gut, or whatever you call it, knew this was it.

He casually walked out of the bathroom and grabbed a small box. You were preoccupied with applying some makeup.

He came back in, on one knee in the doorway.

You looked over at him, nearly dropping your brush on to the floor, your jaw slack.

“(Y/N), I love you. And this isn’t some big romantic gesture, but love isn’t only seen in big romantic gestures. It’s the small things, the intimate moments. I did have something planned, but I really couldn’t wait. I love you… and…” John’s words trailed off. He was starting to cry. Your eyes were watering too.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded, “Yes, yes!”

John got up and kissed you. Then he slipped the ring on your finger.

You admired it, “Wow… it’s beautiful…”

“So are you.”

You kissed him without missing a beat.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

John didn’t hesitate with that.

People cheered and some jokingly wolf-whistled. Junior made a sour face.

Your wedding was magical, and despite having to say hello to every guest and dance at least twice, you were happy. So happy.

John was happy too. He had a big smile on his face the whole time, no matter what and he was so excited to call himself your husband.

Some people teased him and others were very surprised, claiming John was really out of his element.

You knew better though. You both just loved each other, and after John spilled his guts on how much he loved you in front of everyone at the altar, he couldn’t care less who saw him like this.

You just had a quick breakfast before you had to teach your first-hour class. You didn’t think anything of it as you were running a bit behind.

You were fine though, and your schedule was going smoothly, your class was taking notes as you talked about the French Revolution. Students were asking questions when needed, and most of them were paying attention.

Suddenly, you felt a wave of nausea hit you. You tried to keep it down, but you couldn’t, and immediately darted to the trash can near your desk.

Your students were murmuring among each other, unsure of what to do.

“Um… Ms. (Y/L/N)? Are you okay?”

You used a tissue to wipe your mouth and applied some hand sanitizer.

“Yeah— um—“

You couldn’t come up with an excuse though, for one of your students opened a portal and grabbed John and another teacher.

John rushed to your aid, asking if you were alright.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“I’m gonna take you to Dr. Grey. Piotr, can you watch her class for a little bit?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied, a little unsure and worried about your well being.

John helped you out of your classroom, despite you insisting you didn’t need help.

Thankfully Jean was in the lab, so you didn’t have to go looking for her.

As you explained what happened, John sat at your side like a nervous puppy.

“Babe, I’m not going to die. I probably just ate something bad and my stomach didn’t agree with it.”

“Food poisoning is really serious—“

“It’s probably not that.”

“You rarely get sick aside from the common cold or seasonal allergies.” He reminded you.

Jean smiled, at how much John was worrying. It showed he cared.

“Have you had anything else happen to you lately?”

“I’ve been a lot more tired, and more headaches, but that’s just aging, right?”

“Probably. I’m gonna have you fill this out though, just in case.” Jean handed you a clipboard with a questionnaire attached.

You read each question, leaving a checkmark or an x, depending on what it was. You handed it back to Jean and she read it over.

“I’m gonna have you pee in a cup, just so I can test it for a few things.” Jean opened a plastic wrapping and handed you a small plastic cup.

“Bathroom’s on the right.”

You came back quickly, informing Jean you left the cup in the bathroom.

“I’ll go get that… and I should be back with your results soon.”

She walked out, leaving you and John alone.

You checked your phone, seeing some missed texts from Kitty.

KITTY: Hey

KITTY: heard you puked in class today :( you alright?

(Y/N): yeah, I’m in Jean’s lab. She’s testing my urine for something…

KITTY: oh my god! Are you pregnant?

(Y/N): What!!?

KITTY: that’s usually why they test urine. Although, when I’d go to the dr. they’d make me pee to see if there was like protein in my pee or something

KITTY: idk

(Y/N): There’s no way!

(Y/N): Well...

KITTY: *side eye emoji* didn’t you tell me your period was a little late?

(Y/N): Yeah, but that’s normal!

KITTY: You’re almost 30

(Y/N): So? Your period isn’t always regular, and we’re the same age

KITTY: I’m a lesbian. You have a husband.

You turned your phone off. What if you were pregnant again?

Obviously, you were in a good place, you would be fine having a kid. (Plus, Junior had been asking for a sibling awhile back.) You just hadn’t really discussed it with John.

Why mess up a good thing? You, know? You didn’t need another child, but you wouldn’t be disappointed.

Oh god! You were definitely pregnant and what if John didn’t want more kids? What if your body couldn’t handle carrying another baby? What if—

“Sweetheart, you’re shaking.” John’s hands held yours, trying to keep them from moving. “Are you alright? Do you feel like you’re gonna faint?”

“I might be pregnant…” You whispered. You don’t know why you whispered it.

“Are you sure?”

“My period is late— but even after five different kinds of birth controls it’s never really been on a regular schedule. Me throwing up could have been morning sickness—“

John couldn’t hide the smile on his face. You were rambling about how you were probably pregnant and how worried you were. He just held your hand, and calmly said your name.

“(Y/N), you’re gonna be okay. You’re an amazing mom, and I’m gonna be with you through all of it this time.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

Jean came back with your results.

“So?”

“You must have eaten something bad, or your period is coming up. Some women vomit during PMS.”

“Am I pregnant?” You asked.

“No, why? We’re you expecting that?”

“Oh, no. We’re not— I just thought— cause you made me pee—“

Jean shrugged as she typed on her computer. “I did test for that. But no baby…”

You nodded, asking what to do next.

John sat, lost in his thoughts. He was so excited at the thought of you being pregnant.

Do I want another kid?...

When Junior had asked for a sibling not too long ago, John said, “No way.”

Now?

“Just drink plenty of water, and bed rest. I’ll get someone to cover your classes for tomorrow after we disinfect your room. If you don’t puke or have any new symptoms within the next 48 hours, you can go back to teaching.”

“Make sure she stays in her room, okay?” Jean said to John.

“Yes, ma’am.” He half-joked.

John led you up to your shared room, shutting the door behind him.

“Lay on the bed. I’ll get you some pajamas, and then some water. How do you feel? Do you need more blankets? I’m sure I can get Bobby to cover my next class, I can cuddle with you if you’d like.”

“No, Sinjin, I’m fine, really… besides, I can make another lesson plan, or finish my book—“

“Oh no, you don’t. Jean said you needed to rest. So, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do. Even if that means I have to sit and watch you.”

“Creep,” You teased as you changed into your pajamas.

“Edward did it with Bella,” He argued, while quickly texting Bobby, asking to sub for him.

“Didn’t you say Stephanie Myer was an ‘embarrassment in the gothic romance community?’”

“Besides the point…”

“Okay, Edward Cullen.”

John removed his shoes and socks and joined you in bed, “Shut up.”

“Make me,” You teased, eyes bearing into his. John kissed your forehead.

“I would, but you puked up breakfast not even three hours ago.”

You frowned, “Then don’t cuddle with me! You’ll get sick.”

“My body is like a furnace. Most diseases don’t last in me.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

John shrugged as he draped an arm over you, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumb.

You shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, before settling on a position.

“Hey, Sinjin…”

“Yeah?”

“What if I was pregnant?”

John’s hand stopped.

“We thought I was for a minute, and you looked excited, despite the fact I was freaking out… Do you want another kid?”

John flinched a little at your sharp question. “I mean… it’s your body. It’s up to you.”

“No, no, we’re in this together. Do you want another kid?”

“Honestly?... Yeah, I do. I know I was on the fence when Junior first asked, but that was months ago… I want to experience everything, and be there for you this time… do you want to have another kid?

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay… Wait— when can we— Jean said 48 hours without puking—“

You glanced over at the clock, “10:43 AM. This Wednesday.”

“Right. At exactly 10:43 AM, on Wednesday, we can have sex… Oh my god.” John laughed, somewhat disappointed and embarrassed by his words.

“What?”

“We’re like an old couple, scheduling when to have sex.”

You laughed, “Plenty of people schedule sex— remember when we were younger? We’d plan around when Bobby and Kitty wouldn’t be around so one of our rooms were empty—“

“Okay, okay… I’ll go to the store and get some viagra.”

You snorted, “Don’t think you’ll be needing that big guy.”

“You’re right. I’ll just get some extra large condoms.” John joked.

“First off, that defeats the whole point of baby-making, and second, you need small at best.”

“You wound me, woman!”

You smiled stuck your tongue out like a child.

When you were in better health, you and John didn’t waste any time— You went at it like rabbits.

You thought you’d get pregnant on the first try, seeing as you weren’t even trying for Junior, but that wasn’t the case. You had to try a few more times before getting there.

Test after test, until finally, one said positive.

You and John were so excited, not a dry eye between the two of you.

“We’re having a baby!” John held you close, his hands down at your stomach.

“I’m not showing yet, it’s too early…”

“I know, I know,” He sheepishly admitted. “I’m just excited.”

“We can’t tell anyone until the second trimester, or well, we’re not supposed to, because it’s such early development right now that something could go wrong, usually it doesn’t— but that’s what all the doctors and books and mommy blogs online say.”

John nodded, he’d read a few books, and some articles online, but he knew you’d already been to doctors before and just knew more.

“When do you think we should tell Junior?”

“How are we gonna tell Junior,” You corrected him.

“He wanted a sibling. This should be easy.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “If we start to struggle how to explain this to him, it’s all on you buddy.”

“Alright.”

John knew what was going to happen. He knew what a cesarean section was. He even watched videos, about it.

But boy, oh, boy, seeing it in person was so much different.

Your doctor let him cut the umbilical cord, which he was super nervous about. He was anxious about everything.

Was your daughter safe? What if you woke up before you got stitched up? What if you had a sudden health complication?

His mind raced as he watched your baby get cleaned off and checked on.

“Is she okay?”

“So far. We’re going to take her to the nursery to get her weighed and measured and move her mom out of the delivery room. Stay with her, when the anesthesia wears off she’s gonna be pretty sore.”

John didn’t want to leave your baby girl, but he wasn’t going to disobey your doctor.

You made it into your recovery room without any trouble, and after a few minutes, your nurse left you and John alone, saying he could visit your daughter in the nursery soon.

“I’ll wait until our friends and family get here.”

Your nurse nodded and reminded you to press the button on the side of your bed if you needed anything, before heading out the door.

You named your daughter after your other two best friends, Katherine Anne Allerdyce. John wanted to name her after you, but you argued what if you had another girl?

He got all flustered and nervous at the idea, which you found cute.

“Do you wanna hold her?” He asked Junior.

He nodded and was told to sit down in one of the chairs.

“She’s so… tiny…” He emphasized.

Everyone laughed or chuckled at Junior’s demeanor.

“She was born a few hours ago,” You reminded him.

“Oh… Yeah.”

Everyone else took turns holding her and cooing and doting over Kat.

“Aww, hello… Hello Kat… Aww, you’re so cute.”

“Bobby she’s asleep.”

“Hush let me hold my niece.”

John frowned. “She’s my child and I’ve held her less than you have.”

You rolled your eyes, “Babe, let Bobby dote.”

“Fine…”

Kitty pulled out her phone, “Let me get a picture of you guys! Bobby, John, and Katherine. I think it’ll be cute!”

“Fine, fine.” John rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

He scooted closer to Bobby and grinned up at Kitty’s phone as the flash went off.

“Ow!” Bobby winced. “Did you have to use flash?”

“Aww… you blinked.” She pouted.

“I was blinded!”

“Hush it, you big baby. Let me take another one.” Kitty positioned her phone to take another picture again.

“No flash this time!”

“It’s not on!”

John smiled again and so did Bobby. Kitty took her photo and then admired her work.

“Aww, you guys look so cute together!”

She handed her phone to John so he and Bobby could look at the picture.

John smiled.

He looked tired, normal with age, raising a kid, and being up for hours while his wife gave birth.

But he was happy.

His life wasn’t how he thought it would be, but unplanned plans are usually the best ones.

He had a family— not just you, Junior, and Kat— but Bobby, Kitty, Alex, Rogue, and everyone else at the mansion. He had people to fall back on and that supported and loved him.

He looked over at you, talking to Alex while sipping from the straw of your hospital cup/water bottle they gave you. His heart yearned. Despite how tired you were, and how you couldn’t even walk at the moment due to giving birth not even 24 hours ago, John still thought you were the most beautiful and brave person he knew. His writing could never compare or encapture your character, no matter how hard he tried.

But it didn’t matter.

You both had what you never knew you wanted.

And you were happy.

#john allerdyce #john allerdyce x reader #pyro x reader #x-men x reader #x-men oneshot #john allerdyce x you #pyro x you #john allerdyce oneshot #pyro oneshot #x-men x you #early 2000s #original x-men movies #modified timeline #oneshot #x reader

194 notes · View notes

deathsteel · 4 years ago

Text

30 day fanfic challenge

Prompt #22 - Funeral

TW: canonical child death, not as sad as it seems, Dean is kinda a jerk at first

Okay, maybe it wasn’t classy to crash funerals. But Dean had never claimed to be terribly classy.

What he did claim to be was a great actor who could make himself cry on demand and the proud owner of one very well fitted suit that was perfect for mourning.

It started by accident, really. Dean had shown up for the funeral of one of his friend’s grandmother’s cousins intending to comfort the grandmother who’d always loved Dean and never forgotten his birthday, not even once. And he had ended up at an unexpectedly decadent funeral for a 98 year old multi-millionaire that happened to be being thrown the day after. Since he’d missed the funeral he’d intended to attend, Dean figured ‘fuck it’ and proceeded to enjoy the expensive free food and murmured condolences of the deceased’s foxy granddaughters.

The second time he did it may have been less accidental and Dean cried both for Muriel who had died at the ripe old age of 102 as well as for the organic chemistry test he had just bombed. It was so cathartic that he was hooked, a junky even.

He stopped going on dates because flirting with the widow or widower and coaxing a smile out of them was so much more appealing than sitting through the awkward get-to-know-you conversation of a first date. The emotional release of crying onto a stranger’s shoulder had nothing on getting blackout drunk and Dean found more and more of his social life being spent in funeral homes and cemeteries than in bars.

Until he accidentally walked into a funeral without doing his research first. Which, typically he did so much research so that he could pull off pretending to be the second cousin once removed or the mentee that the family never knew their loved one had mentored, but today he’d been busy and distraught over getting a rejection letter to his first choice for his doctoral program so he’d just picked out a funeral from a random obit and darted out the door.

So he wasn’t expecting...this. A funeral for a kid.

Dean had never gone to a funeral for a kid, something about the grief of a life snuffed out too soon had seemed too raw for Dean to be able to fake. It had felt much more disrespectful to crash those funerals than the ones for people who had lived a long and full and fascinating life.

It also seemed pretty evident to everyone else in attendance that Dean was in the wrong place. First, he was waaaay over dressed. Everyone else was wearing colorful clothing ranging from Hawaiian shirts to garish tye-dye and Dean’s black on black ensemble stuck out like a sore thumb. Secondly, Dean appeared to be the only one affecting an air of solemnity. In fact, the entire funeral home had been decked out to resemble a circus complete with juggling clowns and a guy making balloon animals. There was popcorn and a cotton candy machine and even a girl in a Hawaiian shirt carrying around a pair of parrots on her shoulders.

Dean intended to turn on his heel and march right back out, but it looked like some family member was already making their way towards Dean- a tall woman with short brown hair and a face that looked like it was meant to smile, which it was even if her eyes were not.

“Hello there,” The woman said, reaching out to take Dean’s hand and hold it in both of her own. “Thank you so much for coming, I don’t think we got to meet ever. My husband spent the nights at the hospital, so I don’t recognize all of the nurses. I’m Jody, Owen’s mom, thank you for coming.”

“Um, yea, Dean,” he muttered in reply, giving his real name when he never EVER usually did. But he was so caught off guard he didn’t know what else to do.

“I’m sorry about the change in dress code,” Jody said with a laugh, gesturing to the long rainbow plaid dress she was wearing. “Sean said Owen would’ve liked it. He didn’t like for things to be boring, you know?”

Dean nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he mentally planned his escape. He was an asshole and this was it, this was the last time he crashed without doing his research first.

“Well, anyway,” Jody continued, looking over Dean’s shoulder as another few mourners milled into the room. “Please enjoy yourself and have fun.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as the woman moved away, running a hand through his hair as he looked around the room. He’d hang for ten minutes and then duck out so it wouldn’t look so suspicious.

“You don’t work for the hospital,” A deep voice announced next to Dean causing him to jump and spin guiltily towards the source.

He found himself face to face with the guy who had been making balloon animals not even five minutes ago. A distant part registered that the man was attractive, like truly unf, but a more sane part of Dean realized that he was about to have his cover blown by a hot dude wearing rainbow suspenders.

“Uh, yea I do?” Dean asked, trying to convince even himself.

“No you don’t,” the man said, narrowing his blue eyes at Dean in suspicion. “Because I work at the hospital and I know everyone who ever set foot into Owen Mill’s room and you do not work at the hospital.

Fuck.

Dean weighed his options for a long moment before deciding he was well and truly powned. “Listen, dude. I didn’t realize this was a funeral for a kid okay. I don’t normally do this kind of thing. I’m gonna leave, just don’t make a scene okay?”

“Right,” the other man said slowly, his eyes and voice conveying how very little he bought Dean’s bullshit. “Take that jacket off and give it here. Make sure your phone and stuff are in your jacket.”

“Uh...excuse me?” Dean asked as he reached for the buttons on his suit jacket, loading his keys, wallet, and phone into the pockets before he handed it over to the other man and allowed himself to be led deeper into the room where the funeral was being held.

“Our nurse who signed up for the dunk tank is sick,” the balloon guy explained, stopping beside a large dunk tank that was situated on a blue tarp in one corner of the room; he patted the tank meaningfully before turning back towards Dean. “You man the dunk tank and I won’t rat you out.”

“What!?” Dean choked, looking at the slightly murky water and then back down at his fairly expensive suit.

The other man just raised an eyebrow at Dean and stayed silent, his full lips pursing just slightly to hold back what Dean strongly suspected was a triumphant smirk.

“Ugh okay,” Dean groaned, throwing up his hands as he made his way towards the dunk tank’s ladder and toed off his shoes. “For the kids.”

“Always for the kids,” the other man agreed, moving to the side of the tank where the bullseye was and taking up his role of barker with what Dean felt like was too much enthusiasm. “Dunk the Dummy! Step right up and Dunk the Chump!”

Quiet a few dunks later, Dean was soaked and shivering and vowing that he would never crash another funeral when the other man came back up to him with an apologetic grin and a towel.

“Thanks,” Dean muttered sarcastically as he took the towel and wrapped it around himself.

“Maybe you won’t crash any more funerals,” Balloon guy admonished only slightly apologetically. “Seriously, I clocked you as soon as you walked in. And you’re lucky it was me instead of a pissed off parent.”

“You go to a lot of funerals?” Dean asked as he roughed the towel over his dripping hair.

“Call it a work related hazard,” the other man replied with a grim smile. “But hey, it gave me a reason to learn balloon art and it makes the kids happy when most of the kids I see don’t have much to be happy about.”

Dean nodded in understanding, figuring he’d shove his whole leg in his mouth since his foot had already seemed to take up permanent residence there. “So uh...how did you know this kid anyway?”

“I was his oncologist,” the other man replied evenly, nodding at Dean’s self-recriminating wince. “So yea, man--”

“Dean,” he offered, cutting across the other man because it felt like he owed it to the doctor by that point.

“Dean,” the man said, with an incline of his head. “I’m Castiel. Just uh, do me a favor. Stop crashing funerals okay? It's pretty damn disrespectful.”

“Absolutely,” Dean promised, crossing his heart with the tip of his index finger. “I’m a changed man, I promise.”

“Great,” Castiel replied, rolling his eyes indulgently. “Have a good day Dean, thanks for coming.”

Dean nodded, handing the other man back the soggy towel in exchange for his jacket and his shoes that he picked up instead of putting them on over his dripping socks.

“But hey, Dean,” Castiel called as Dean started away. “If you ever want to take another turn at the dunk tank, you can look me up at St. Mary’s.”

“Right,” Dean said with a nod at the other man, turning to leave again before Castiel could see his blush.

His funeral crashing days were most definitely over, but maybe his tank dunking days had just begun.

#30 day fanfic challenge #fic writing #funeral #destiel #destiel fanfic #spn

6 notes · View notes

ngame989 · 5 years ago

Text

SVTFOE: A Retrospective

Happy Mama Star Day!

OK, first and foremost, a quick update on TGG: I plan to have something ready for at least one of the major anniversaries coming up, and hopefully will resume slightly more regular updates from then forward. Thanks to everyone for your continued support, it’s been a rough year so far for me personally and for everyone in in the current pandemic situation. The anniversary of both STH and Mama Star seemed like a fitting time to get some things off my chest, both good and bad, so I’ll do that now and get it out of the way to focus on bigger and better things in the future. Fair warning, this is gonna be long and rambly and personal more than it is any sort of serious show analysis. If you’re looking for fun, feel-good celebration of what definitely were some of my favorite moments in the series, I’m not so sure this is gonna be the post for you.

It goes without saying that Star vs the Forces of Evil, for better or worse, is incredibly important to me and has been without fail for years. How are you supposed to feel when something that important lets you down so hard? Is having such strong, mixed emotions and attachment better than having nothing you care about at all? The past year hasn’t answered these questions for me, and this post certainly won’t either. There’s no thesis or likely any kind of closure here, just me baring a bit of my soul here on tumblr dot com.

It’s been a rough year or two for me. I don’t want to get too much into the specifics, but let’s just say I hit a crossroads where the entire path I’d envisioned for myself in life came into serious question, and I had been spiraling into depression and paralyzing anxiety over a complete lack of any fulfillment in my “professional” life for months before I even recognized it for what it was. Season 3 finished airing around the last few months of my undergraduate degree, which (while obviously it significantly emotionally impacted me) was a generally happy and stable time in my life. As things started to change and get worse for me, SVTFOE S4 was my ray of hope. I’m not kidding when I say that some days in the hiatus leading up to it, the thought of S4 delivering on its potential for emotional fulfillment and Starco goodness (consistently, not just at the end) was the only thing that got me out of bed in the morning and the only positive thing I could see in my future.

When we got the S4 we got, it shattered me, utterly and completely. This isn’t an attempt to dunk on S4 in some “objective” manner - hell, I even like a lot of the things about it that the fandom despises (the ending prioritizing character closure over lore, the upheaval of the political structure rather than just having Star become the Goodest Queen, etc). I’d still make the argument that a lot of the character development was very flimsy and poorly paced, a very clear effort to force the relationship resolution to be delayed until the end at all costs, but that’s not the point here. Life felt dull and lonely and warm fluffy Starco was my vicarious escape from that, and the season we got left me so completely hollow insid that it felt like I couldn’t breathe for its first more-than-a-dozen episodes, and I was so burnt out that I couldn’t even properly enjoy the parts that were genuinely good.

Even earlyish on, I was already fearing that things wouldn’t be resolved till the end and that there’d be almost none of the content I actually longed for from the show. As I’ve mentioned before, The Greatest Gift was born the morning after Lake House Fever’s late night release, out of salt and spite and a need to give myself something good to look forward to, even if it would be something I’d be making myself. I completely removed myself from even passing conversations with my best friends in the fandom because it hurt too much to even think about. I even had Seddm give me summaries of episodes before I watched them so I could take some time to emotionally prepare (at least until the 2nd to last week). And to the show’s credit, its last few weeks of episodes (with some exceptions) tried their absolute damnedest to right the ship (pun intended) and bring back the sorts of things I wanted with a vengeance. I was smiling like a complete fool for 12 hours straight after Here to Help. The ending didn’t fix my issues with the show, not by a fucking long shot, but it at least left me on a positive enough note that there was a feverish enthusiasm to continue it further on my own.

But it’s been tough. Have you or a family member/friend ever gotten bad food poisoning from a restaurant you really liked, and the smell of it makes you queasy afterwards even though you do really like it? That’s probably the best analogy I can draw to a lot of my relationship with SVTFOE since it ended. PLEASE NOTE I’M IN NO WAY TRYING TO EQUATE THE MAGNITUDE OF MY IRE WITH A CARTOON WITH SERIOUS DISORDERS THAT PEOPLE SUFFER FROM, but I’d almost be tempted to liken it to PTSD. Seeing reminders of the painful parts can put me in a bad mood for hours, and on some days even just dwelling on the show in any way will invite creeping negativity and “why the fuck couldn’t it have just-” types of thoughts taking over. There have been some days writing TGG where having to draw inspiration from or reference events/dialogues in S4 was so emotionally taxing that I had to stop writing for the night. I blocked Seddm’s entire askbox tag because I’d find my own emotions frothing into a rage over things in the show people would bring up. I’ve lost acquaintances and potential friendships over my bitterness. I instantly block anyone who posts even a hint of Tomstar/Kellco content in the Starco tags on any site because it induces such palpable negativity in my heart - I think I’m up to 1000 accounts blocked on Instagram right now, which is why Toxic runs the TGG page over there. If you’re one of the people out there that tried to strike up a conversation with me over a shared interest in the show and I vomited bile into your DMs, I sincerely apologize. And to anyone who got wrapped up in the brazen high hopes I put forth here every day as S4 approached and came crashing down with me as a result, I’m sorry for that too.

And yet... I can’t say there’s not a genuine love I still have for a lot of it. I still have my little shrine of stickers and pictures that I’ll sometimes just get let myself get lost in. There was a recent postcanon fic started by someone who just caught up on the show that brought such a depth of warmth into my chest that I’m smiling like an idiot just now thinking about it. I haven’t watched even a clip (let alone a whole episode) that Star and Marco’s voices in my head feel distant and abstract, but when I’m writing chapters I can still get emotional imagining them saying and doing things out of their devotion to one another. I’ve made no secret that I (to put it very very very lightly) have a strong distaste for the vast majority of this fandom, and yet the joy of knowing I could make people’s days or lives brighter gives me a satisfaction I can’t put words to. Don’t get me wrong, writing quickly just isn’t my thing normally anyway - I’m not trying to suggest that the sole reason for TGG downtime is that I’m driving knives into my own heart and pouring my blood onto the page. Just that that’s part of it, and it takes its toll.

The last few months, although I have missed the joy of brewing up fluff ideas and seeing them come to life, have admittedly been a welcome reprieve just not having to think about this stuff so much. In the last few weeks I’ve finally been coming around to a bit of a better place where the good bubbles up without bringing as much of the bad with it. It will likely still wax and wane, and I can’t guarantee if or when TGG will fully finish. And this isn’t my entire life - I have MMOs and card games and all kinds of other hobbies that suck up lots of my time, so don’t worry about me just lying in bed sobbing over S4 for 12 hours a day. I don’t know if the day will ever come when I can truly be at peace with it all, but I don’t want to toss out the good with the bad. All I can ask is for your patience as my own journey evolves alongside my writing, until the day comes when perhaps this story can finally come to a close. Thanks for reading, and stay safe.

Ngame

#starco #tgg svtfoe #ngame

60 notes · View notes

headoverhiddles · 5 years ago

Text

Little Pistol - Ron Tully x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You travel to Stockton for a conjugal visit with Tully. The two of you have been apart too long for formalities.

Notes: This was a request! As per my usual disclaimer, I don’t condone Tully’s ideology, this is his character, minus that!

Gif used belongs to stilinski-ortiz-dolan!

Tully had been on the boards for a visit for six months. There are a lot of things he can bribe the guards for, like rooms to talk business with his guys, private lines on the phone, and a general prison-wide acceptance that no one would fuck with him unless it really was the law. What he can't bribe anyone for though, is a wait bypass for a conjugal visit. His name is on the list like the rest of them, and even though he'd pay a pretty penny to see you monthly, it's just not something he can do.

Now, having waited quite a bit of time, Tully's "good behavior" had paid off. The next day was his visit with you, which would last a day.

"You seem happy," the guy behind him in the communal washrooms mentions. No one talks to Tully much, for fear of what he’d do to them if he wasn’t in the mood, but this guy was the prison idiot, and Tully didn’t mind his chatter now and then. The taller man is washing his face in the sink, shaving his growing facial hair a little and trimming his hair.

"I am."

The guy smirks. "Can I ask why?"

Tully drags the plastic razor down his chin, inspecting himself. He didn't want to shave it too close, since you always said you liked his stubble... liked the way it felt between your thighs. Tully's small smile grows a little, and he dunks the razor in water. It had cost him a couple fifties to be allowed to clean up a little with actually helpful instruments of hygiene this morning.

"I'm seeing my girl tonight." He gestures to his things, and the guy goes over, finding a polaroid of you in a black bra and panties, posing on top of Tully's bike.

"Shit. With a body like that, what makes you think she's still your girl?" the guy chuckles. Tully doesn’t dignify the man with a look.

"It’s not like that." He takes some scissors from his sleeve, trimming his black hair close to his temple. "I know she'd die for me. And I'd die protecting her." The guy's still staring at the polaroid of you when Tully's done his haircut. "Alright, put it the fuck down, or I'mma have you stabbed."

He takes the photo, and feels himself stir already. His eyes run over your perfect tits, down your legs, to the thin black fabric covering that pussy he knows so well. He sets the photo that he’d touched himself to many times by the mirror, and checks his reflection. He'd never really considered himself to be handsome, which is why he became powerful instead, but you seemed to think he was the sexiest man alive. He didn't mind that.

"Lucky you get a visit," the guy mutters.

"I almost didn't. See, you're not supposed to get visits from anyone outside of family. Technically, I haven't married (y/n) yet. But, I pulled some strings. 'S what I do."

"Mm. I don't have any girlfriends or anything. Last visit I got was my mom, back in '07. Got banned til the end of my sentence cause my mom tried to plant weed on me. Guess she likes the quiet around the house."

Tully, not really listening, grunts in response. He then does up another button on his blue shirt, and looks down at the picture again, really studying it. He remembers the way you screamed his name while he fucked you over that motorcycle. He takes it as a personal challenge to raise even more hell tonight.

---

You sit in the diner in Stockton, California. You'd traveled up here with a few of the guys who work for your boyfriend, since they had to do some work anyway, smooth some shit out before Tully caught wind of it and had their heads. They knew to take good care of you, or they'd pay for that with their life too. You yourself are about to go see Tully, and you can't wait. It had been so long.

Dressed in a little white crop top, a short black skirt, and sunglasses, you're feeling your best. You know ever since he got the news he’d been scheduled for a conjugal, Tully's probably had tonight in mind day and night, and what you wear won't alter the fact that he's going to give you the best pounding you've ever taken. But you want to wow him too. He hasn't seen you for the better part of a year, after all, and to get a real good reaction out of him, you need the element of surprise.

"Want another milkshake, hun?" a kind, older waitress with smile lines and grey hair asks. You smile back.

"Love one."

You tap your nails on the table, watching out the window at the people walking by in the heat. You're used to living in Southern California, since Tully's the shot caller and doesn't go out on rides, but he conducts business up here in the northern part of the state sometimes. Liaisons, stuff like that. The county jail he does his time in is unfortunately pretty far away from the reclusive home you two share in San Diego. Still, you keep busy and make do while he's gone, keep an eye on how things are run in his absence. It's what you have to do to stay sane.

"Don’t mean to bother you. But can I ask what your tattoos mean?" the waitress asks, sliding you another of your favorite flavor of milkshake.

You glance down at your knuckles, which have T U L L Y tattooed across them, a letter per finger.

"My man," you say wistfully.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly, noticing the sorrow in your eyes, "Did he pass away?"

"No," you smile, "He's just away right now, doing time."

"Shit, no kidding. My husband's been in for two years now, serving another five. Kills me every day."

You move your stuff to one side of the table. "Sit, if you want." The lady checks her watch, and sits across from you. "I hate it," you confess, "It's the worst. It's the life I chose to get involved in, but it's rough when it actually comes back to hit you at night, when you don't have their arms around you."

"I know just what you mean, hun. Probably shouldn't be saying this, but... my husband is an arms dealer, works in the gun trade. Under the table deals out in San Pedro, all that."

"My Tully's a shot caller," you say, not elaborating any further on his gang or who he's affiliated with. This lady seems nice, but you're never sure who could be an undercover cop, or the wife of a rival gang member.

"You're visiting him, then?" she asks.

"Yes. Tonight."

"Baby, you have the time of your life tonight, you hear me?"

"Oh, you know I will," you giggle, "When he hasn't seen me for a while, things get very physical."

"I can imagine." She winks.

You hand her a Polaroid you've got in your leather jacket pocket; Tully's got the other one from this day. In this one, you're dressed in black panties and a black bra, and you're sitting on Tully's lap, straddling him. The photo shows the backside of you, showing off your backside, and Tully has got his face looking over your shoulder, glaring darkly as his fingers sink into the flesh of your ass. It's a photo of the two of you that never fails to turn you on, especially recalling how hard he fucked you over his bike after this picture was taken.

You sigh, twirling the straw. "He's my ride or die... and I'm his forever girl."

Finally, it comes time for the guards to collect Tully. They know exactly what he's going to do to you, as they're the ones who have had to listen to Tully groan your name every morning and night whenever he gets the urge.

“This has been a long time coming,” one guard sighs.

"Just don't make too much noise," the other guard pleads. Tully glances at him.

"I don't remember payin’ you off to tell me how to fuck my girlfriend."

The guy concedes, keeping his mouth shut. They let him into the room, far away from the others and the best money can buy (he at least had some sphere of influence in this department), and they go to close the door.

"She'll be in in a minute." Tully undoes the top three buttons of his shirt, and waits.

---

You get a pat down in the lobby of the conjugal area. They take out a gold switchblade and a couple of metal rings, leaving your pockets empty. Then you're ready to go in. The guards let you in, and you see Tully sitting on the bed. He looks up.

"Hey, baby."

"Hey," you grin. One of the guards steps in.

"24 hours, Tully. Make it count." He shuts the door after himself, locking it, and you look around. It's almost like a normal home-- there's a mini fridge, a bed, a TV, and a living area.

"I missed you," you say, and walk over to him. He accepts you into his lap, and you cup his face, pressing your lips to his.

"So did I," he murmurs against your lips. "You doing good? Looking after the boys, making sure they're doing their jobs?" You nod. "Good. They're a bunch of jokes when I'm not around."

"Well, now that nobody's around... am I correct in thinking you wouldn’t say no to a strip tease?" you ask, snapping the strap on your bra underneath your shirt.

"Yeah," he nods, sitting back on the couch. You slowly take your shirt up over your head, watching as his eyes fall down to admire your breasts.

"You like that?" you murmur, bunching your hair up a little as you slide your fingers downward.

"Thought of me while you did that the last few months?"

"Nuh uh," you grin, "Trying to trick me? I know I can only cum when you tell me to."

"That's right," he smiles fondly, watching your hips swing back and forth. You finally rub the finger between your legs, and get on the edge of the bed, pulling your panties to one side. You hear the low hitch in Tully's breath, and you sink your fingers into yourself, loving the feel but craving the stretch of your boyfriend.

You dip your fingers in again, lips parting as you moan. "Gonna join in?"

"Right now I'm just going to sit here and watch, babygirl. Seeing you do it in person is a nice change. Your moans are fuckin’ beautiful, but a visual always helps." He gives one of his dark smirks, and sits there, watching. You feel the heat rise even more as his eyes travel, your skin heating up just knowing he’s appreciating the show you’re putting on. You let his name escape your lips with a sigh. "My beautiful little slutty girl," he murmurs, and unzips his pants as you watch in feverish arousal. He takes his cock out, and starts to pump it slowly in his hand while you watch, shoving your fingers deeper. Your eyes are trained on his fist, where it's jerking up and down. He lifts his chin.

"Look at that," he starts to stroke a little faster, "All you, baby." You flip over, not reaching enough depth in this position, and sit on your fingers, letting them disappear deeper into your pussy. Tully sits forward, intense gaze trained, unblinking, on where your hips are slamming down. "You're so fucking hot," he whispers.

"Yeah?" You ride your fingers harder, "You like that? You like that, baby?"

"S good, sweetheart." He moans, squeezing himself. "Fuckin' tease."

"Get over here and pound me then," you say, licking your lips obscenely. He finally stands, and grabs you by your hair. You groan as he drags you over to the bed, where he shoves you down onto the soon-to-be-destroyed mattress.

"You wanna feel daddy's cock?" he asks, and you crawl forward, stroking up the length of it. He lets you for a moment, reveling in the feeling of your hands on his dick again, but eventually urges you off again. He crawls onto the bed between your legs, and pushes your thighs far apart, exposing your soaking pussy to him.

"This is all mine," he whispers, "You know this cunt belongs to me." He hums. “I own a lotta things, and this here’s one of em.”

"Yeah, daddy," you breathe, and he seals his lips over you, upper lip teasing your clit while his tongue dips in and out of you. Fuck. One thing among many that can be said about Tully, is he knows how to eat you out spectacularly.

"That's good, that's good," you start chanting, "Please... sir, please..."

He groans, and the vibrations make your clit throb. "Imma take good care of you, babygirl, don't you worry," he assures softly, eyes glowering up from between your legs, "Take good care of my girl. She deserves it. Deserves gettin’ fucked good too. Don't you?"

"Yeah..." you whine.

"You've been a real good girl, waiting for daddy. Only cumming when he's talking to you on the phone. You know the rules."

"Daddy," you gasp, feeling your orgasm build, "I-I have a confession." Your voice sounds so small, and your tone is airy in your breathless state.

"Mmm? Tell me, sweetheart."

"You won't be mad?"

"That depends." He strokes soothing hands up your calves, and you shudder, flashes of his punishments running through your head.

"I was... in the jacuzzi with the girls the other night. I was thinking of you, and... thinking of what you'd do if you were there. I was wearing your favorite bikini. The one that's translucent, so you can see my nipples?"

"Mmhmmm."

"And..." You wiggle your hips, chasing your release at the mercy of Tully's tongue. "And I... well, the jets just felt so good, I... mmm!"

"Tell daddy," he encourages with a growl.

"I let the pressure make me cum in my swimsuit, imagining it was you." You let out a moan as his tongue licks a stripe up from the base to the tip of your clit.

He hums. "It's okay. It’s okay. I understand. Some things just can't be helped. I know you tried." You exhale, uncomfortable waves of arousal washing over you. You wish he'd fill you up. "I'm proud of you, you know." You look down at him again. "You're so brave. I'm in here, you're all alone. I wish I could be there for you, remind you every day why you'll always be mine."

"You are there for me. When you can be. You bribe the guards with your hard earned cash to get ten minutes on a call with me, to check in, make sure I’m alright. You're in here getting shit done, and I’m running things at home. It’s how we do it."

"Mmyeah. But I'd much rather be back in the game than calling the shots in here. In a perfect world, nothing would stand between us. Two of us against the world."

"Together as one," you smile, arching your back.

Tully shares your smile, as he presses soft kisses all the way up to just barely graze your cunt again. "Against all others." He nips at the dip in your hipbone. "Mm. Babygirl, when I'm out, I'mma do this... every night. That’s a motherfuckin’ promise."

You grind your hips toward his mouth, and he holds them down firmly against the mattress as he launches a proper maneuver on your clit, making you cum in seconds. You ride it out, hands fisting in his hair. He crawls over top of you, staring down at you like he's about to devour you. You don’t doubt that he is.

You part your legs even more, and he picks them up, throwing them over his shoulder and holding your hips up. He guides himself to line up with your dripping cunt, and pushes into you easily with a low grunt, your first orgasm having slicked you up perfectly. Each following thrust is harder than the previous; Tully isn't wasting time. Already sensitive, you feel the second orgasm building. Desperate, you run your hand through your hair, getting it out of your face.

"I need it, fuck Tully, I need your cock!" you practically shout, and his grunts increase in volume as he dedicates all his energy to making sure he uses you properly. "Fill me up with your cum, daddy?" you ask innocently.

"Oh, you know I will."

"Fucking do it then."

"You’re a mouthy one, sweetheart," he moans, and he throws his head back, biting his bottom lip hard. “You test me.”

“You love it.”

“I tolerate it... cuz I love you so fucking much... ohhff, shit...”

“Look at me when you cum?” you gasp breathlessly. He obliges, jet black hair hanging and jolting with his tattooed body as he puts all his weight behind fucking you as deep as he can. He looks you in your eyes as your own eyelids droop in desire, and he gasps your name as you both reach your peaks together.

You hum softly in contentment, and climb on top of his larger frame, laying on his chest. He puts an arm over you, body rising and falling with labored breath.

"What do you want to do now?" you tease. He looks down at you, brushing your matted hair aside affectionately.

"We still got 23 hours left. You do the math."

173 notes · View notes

milayna-liveblogs · 5 years ago

Text

So I haven’t actually gotten anything done here, and the reason is that Target “balanced” its intake process on “normal” operations - by which I mean, it was inadequate, but barely limping by; and Coronavirus scare has blasted that out of the water. https://rpjohnston.tumblr.com/post/612260495706161152/working-retail-right-now-is-the-worst-targets I need to draw a new avatar - it’s been years - but my drawing program, Flash CS6, is on my laptop and it’s had...problems...since I accidentally let the battery run down. If I can’t salvage it, I’ll need to figure out GIMP or something. Anyway, I have looked at potential shows to blog! When I asked people, they suggested YuYuYu - Google tells me this is Yuki Yuna Is A Hero. I know nothing about it except the blurb: “The deity that protects humanity grants superpowers to the members of a middle school "hero club," who must assume magical forms to combat invading creatures from another world.” People tell me it’s really good though! From last season, there’s I Don't Want to Get Hurt, so I'll Max Out My Defense. To be honest SAO kinda broke the MMO anime genre for me but the premise sounds interesting enough to give a try. Coming in Spring: BNA. It’s a Trigger anime and I’m a huge fan so unless it bores like like Luluco this should be a slam dunk. Tower of God. The animation draws me - it reminds me of the higher-quality Flash movies from Newgrounds, and I like to experience media that is less “mainstream”. This is based on a Korean webtoon, and is a Crunchyroll original. Appare-Ranman! This has some WILD designs, yo. I dig it. Colorful as heck, and the premise is cool too! Why is it relatively low on membercount? Unless it tanks hard I think I’ll have a blast. Finally, at some point Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid S2 ff will drop. I don’t know about blogging that one - I enjoyed the firsts eason, but as another liveblogger put it, it’s 25% fanservice, 25% gross shit, and 50% genuine heartwarming WLM found family. Since I didn’t do the first season, IF I did this, I’d either have to blog the season I already watched, or start on the 2nd season, and I dunno about either of those options. I thought I’d find more from last season that I’d like but they either didn’t interest me from their synopsis or were continuing cours. Still if there’s anything from Winter or Spring that anyone wants to see drop me a line! Or if any of these are probably no good let me know that too. Depending on when things come down, I might start my next series with YuYuYu, or with one of the Spring animes when it drops. Hopefully that won’t be too long. I hate being too exhausted to do anything creative.

#future plans

1 note · View note

serenlyss · 6 years ago

Note

.41 ritshou

Thanks for the prompt! This ended up being a little more than a drabble haha but I had fun with it! This also turned into a Ritsu’s birthday fic so happy late birthday Ritsu!

—

Ritsu draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, leaning forward to rest his chin atop them. It’s not a very comfortable position, especially considering the fact that he’s currently perched on the roof of his house, on a hard incline with nothing much keeping him from sliding down to the edge except for friction, but he does it anyway, because it makes him feel like his heart isn’t beating as fast or hard as it actually is and like he isn’t on the verge of a mental breakdown.

The night had started out fine. Ritsu hasn’t had a birthday party in a few years now, but all of a sudden he has people around him that he actually wants to celebrate with, people that want to celebrate with him. So why does he suddenly feel like the world is ending? Under his feet, he can faintly hear music playing as the party goes on without him.

The night had started out fine, but two hours in he’d looked around and realized that nearly half of the faces all around him were almost entirely unfamiliar. Classmates and club members, the student council, members of his old soccer team… he knows them all by name, but he doesn’t actually know them. He isn’t even sure if he can call them friends. Even Kamuro had been there, which had caused him to feel overwhelmed in a whole different way. He’d looked around and hadn’t see any sign of Shou or Shigeo or Teru, the people he’d actually wanted to be there, and suddenly it was like he’d been dunked underwater, the sensation stealing his breath from his lungs and making every step feel like the air itself had been resisting him.

He’d excused himself with perfect politeness, not an inch of his inner feelings allowed to be seen on his face, and made his way upstairs. He’d hardly even hesitated to throw open his window and climb outside, clambering up onto the rooftop where he now sits, wondering why in hell he’d thought throwing a party had been a good idea. He digs his fingers into the denim of his jeans and exhales, his breath colder than the July air outside.

“So this is where you ran off to!”

Ritsu doesn’t mean to flinch, but he does anyway, his body twitching involuntarily in response to the voice that he recognizes instantly as Shou’s. His friend pulls himself up fluidly onto the rooftop beside him and leans forward until his face is in Ritsu’s periphery, all bright red hair and pale, freckled skin and glinting white teeth in the darkness. His light blue eyes reflect the dim yellow street lights below them as he meets Ritsu’s gaze, legs sprawling out in front of him as he settles himself down at Ritsu’s side.

“What’s up? The party’s downstairs, you know,” Shou asks with all his regular flippancy and charisma, the words coming across entirely casual despite their deeper implications.

Ritsu waits a half-second before he replies, “Just getting some air. Did Shige send you?” He has a feeling that his brother, ever so sharp-eyed and intuitive nowadays, had been the first to notice his absence. He wonders if anyone else had, or if they’d been deaf to his presence to begin with.

Shou shakes his head and moves his face out of Ritsu’s line of sight, leaning back against the roof with his hands behind his head. Ritsu lifts his own head and lets his gaze follow him. “Nah, I came to find you when I got out of the bathroom and saw you were gone. It’s your party, you know, you should be there for it,” he replies. Shou’s calm demeanor has an area of effect on Ritsu, whose shoulders sink a little lower as he listens.

“I guess,” Ritsu murmurs, but even if he knows the party is technically for him, it doesn’t feel like it belongs to him anymore.

Shou’s smile falters at this, a hint of concern comes to his face. He props himself up on his elbows, turning to give Ritsu his full attention. “You alright?” he asks. “You look sad, did something happen? You can tell me, you know.”

I look sad? Ritsu echoes in his mind, blinking. That can’t be right. Ritsu is very careful to keep his thoughts to himself, and his expressions are always carefully under wraps. Not even his family can tell when he’s feeling sad, most of the time, though he has a feeling Shigeo sees more than he lets on. Ritsu opens his mouth to produce a scripted response: I’m fine, just a little tired. I ate too much cake and have a stomachache. I was taking a phone call before you showed up. Instead, the words that come out of his mouth are, “There were too many people.”

Shou doesn’t respond right away, which is weird enough in its own way. When he glances in Shou’s direction again, he finds wide blue eyes staring back at him, flashes of recognition and sympathy behind clear, unhidden surprise. “Really? You invited them, though, didn’t you?”

“Some of them,” Ritsu mumbles in response. He sighs softly against his knees and finally lets his body unravel, feet sliding down the tiled surface of the roof as his head and torso lean back against the roof beside Shou. He tucks his arms close against his sides and clasps his hands over his stomach, and feels a warm summer breeze blow his bangs out of his face and to the side. “My parents invited some of them, too, but they’re… all people I know.”

“Well then, you know a lot of people,” Shou says simply, wiggling his legs against the uneven roof’s surface in search of a more comfortable position.

He’s barefoot, Ritsu realizes, having ditched his shoes somewhere along the way. For some reason it makes Ritsu want to smile; Shou never had cared much for manners or rules, and his rebellious spirit feels so, so refreshing when Ritsu is confronted by his own “good child” demeanor. He hums quietly. “I guess so,” he responds with a shrug of his shoulders, sinking just a little deeper into the roof as he breathes steadily and lets his wound-up limbs relax.

Shou, to his credit, looks perfectly at home, sprawled out on the rooftop with no shoes on. He isn’t wearing a jacket, either, but it’s warm enough out that the breeze doesn’t make him shiver. “Well, you may not know them all that well now, but there’s still time,” Shou points out, after a minute or so of silence has passed between them. “I know you have, like, a persona or whatever, but it doesn’t have to be like that forever. You can talk to them like normal people.”

“I guess that makes you a “normal person”?” Ritsu retorts, but it’s humorous rather than hostile. A faint smile blooms on his face as he tilts his head to the side to look at Shou.

Shou laughs, a quiet, private laugh meant only for him, one that’s so different from his usual boisterous guffaws that it nearly gives Ritsu whiplash every time he hears it. “Normal is relative,” he shoots back, and it feels like a weight is lifted.

Of course Shou’s answer to his dilemma would be simple, his solutions usually are. And, to Ritsu’s surprise, his solutions are usually good, too. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he promises.

Shou shoots him a grin, then sits up with a start. “Oh, that reminds me! I was gonna wait until everyone else went home to do this, but I think now is as good a time as any,” he babbles, reaching for his discarded bag and rifling through it for a moment. He fishes out a wrapped package, one with a little white bow stuck to the top of it, and holds it out to Ritsu. “I got you something. Y’know, like a birthday present.”

Ritsu had accepted more than a dozen gifts throughout the night from many of his guests, some of which he was excited to open, and some of which he’d known immediately would have very little sentimental value, but something about this moment, sitting on the roof of his house in the middle of a summer’s night next to the best friend he’s probably ever had, sends Ritsu’s heart racing all over again. He reaches out and accepts the gift, hears the cheap convenience store wrapping paper crinkle under his fingers, and wonders how much thought Shou had put into picking something out just for him. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Ritsu picks at the wrapping paper carefully at first, as though it was necessary to preserve rather than destroy it, and only remembers that wrapping paper is meant to be ripped to pieces when Shou groans and tells him to hurry up already, you’re killing me! And so he smirks and does as he’s told, digging his fingers into the colorful paper and tearing it off in one smooth motion until he can finally tell when the gift in his hands is.

It’s a notebook, one with a hard cover wrapped in a strong, soft material. It feels almost felted under his fingers as he runs them briefly over the cover. When he pulls the cover open, he sees that it’s swiss bound, each page designed to lay perfectly flat no matter what part of the book he turns to. It’s nice, really nice, way nicer than the spiral-bound notebook Ritsu uses for his math homework.

“You’re always ripping out pages of your book to write ideas down on,” Shou says, sitting up so he can lean over Ritsu’s shoulder to look down at the notebook, “but then they end up getting lost or crumpled up at the bottom of your backpack. I thought if you had a book you could use specifically for jotting down your ideas and stuff, you’d be less likely to lose them at the bottom of your backpack or misplace them.” He taps his finger on one college-ruled page, reaching around Ritsu’s shoulder to do so. “What do you think?”

Ritsu is, quite frankly, speechless. Shou doesn’t often show himself to be a very emotionally mature person–neither is Ritsu, in that regard–but the gift undeniably has a lot of thought put into it, something Shou might have heard Ritsu complain about at one point and filed away for future use. “Thank you,” he says again, for lack of better words, “I love it.”

“I’m glad,” Shou says with a grin, pushing himself to his feet. He fiddles with the edge of his t-shirt, moving it back into place after laying down had rumpled it a little, and then he reaches out a hand to Ritsu. “C’mon, we should head back inside before your brother comes looking for us.”

Ah, right. Ritsu had nearly forgotten about the party still happening in the house underneath them. “Yeah, we should,” he agrees, and accepts Shou’s outstretched hand.

#ritshou #kageyama ritsu #suzuki shou #serendipitousfics #drabble request #Anonymous #lyssa's asks

18 notes · View notes

our-happygirl500-fan · 6 years ago

Note

You mentioned Kichi’s parental issues... Could you expand upon that, even if it is just headcanon?

Well there’s the general headcanon of abuse but my idea for Kokichi’s backstory isn’t actually my own but from a fic I read on AO3, I can’t remember the name of it, I think it might have literally been called Dysphoria or something similar and not a lot of people read it and the author took it down like a month after finishing it because it touched upon some really sensitive and frankly uncomfortable stuff and I had only clicked on the story because the notes made an Umineko reference but the story despite its content was actually really well written and always kind of stuck with me. It’s very much like a WoH backstory and considering I always felt a similarity to Kotoko and Kokichi it kind of just stuck in my head.

I’ll put a read more, to sum up, what I remember of the story but tw for mentions or, rape, abuse, suicide attempts, and gender identity and confusion.

So the story was actually really well written and is from Kokichi’s POV from childhood to his time in the killing game to death and there is this reveal where you learn about Koharu along with Kokichi though I’m not sure if it counts as a big reveal because there are a lot of hints in the bits leading up to it but I’m not entirely sure how to do that with a summary.

The story kind of starts out from a woman’s point of view where she married an older man straight out of high school living in a small house, the man is abusive and often drinks but the woman has convinced herself that he loves her and their three-year-old daughter. She’s at the park trying to keep the other park patrons from noticing her daughters bruises worrying that her daughter will make trouble for her husband; she then notices another child with bruises, a boy who other mothers coo at and make comments about how boys always get up to mischief and roughhouse. The mother seems to have a realization and when she goes home she throws out all her daughters dresses and cuts the child's hair.

The story then jumps to a six to seven year old Kokichi’s POV where he’s making up some kind of story about a black eye that he has the other kids in his class ignore him a tell him that no one believes his lies anymore, a teacher who is implied to be new at the school later asks him if everything is alright at home and Kokichi remembers people coming by the house to check on his parents which led to his parents yelling and hitting each other and him so he starts spewing nonsense and annoying the teacher until the teacher doesn’t want to talk to him anymore.

Then there are a couple of scenes about Kokichi avoiding home and some thoughts about his parents, he wonders why his mother tries so hard to lie to everyone to pretend they’re a normal family and then wonders if none of the families are normal and everyone is just lying.

When he finally does get home his mother is at work and his father is drunk, things get slightly violent and then there is what is very much implied to be a rape scene.

Later Kokichi tries to tell his mother what happened and his mother suddenly goes very quiet and calls him a liar, the mother gets more and more hysterical and starts hitting and beating Kokichi until he passes out calling him a liar the entire time.

He later wakes up with him mother repeatedly dunking his head into ice water so that his face doesn’t bruise telling him that they’ll all call her a bad mother if he goes into school like that. Later there is another implied rape scene and afterward, Kokichi decides not to tell his mother.

The story jumps to Kokichi being 8 or 9 in the middle of what is implied to be another rape scene by Kokichi’s father only for his mother to walk in and get into a fight with the father over what she saw, things get violent and the father ends up accidentally killing the mother right in front of Kokichi. The father horrified at what he’s done runs out of the house in a panic leaving Kokichi frozen in shock still on the bed staring at his mother’s corpse.

A neighbor walks into the house when she notices the front door left open and screams at the sight of the dead woman and child naked on the bed.

Police get involved and take Kokichi into custody and he has to explain while still implied to be in shock what happened, the police start calling social services and Kokichi hears two officers angrily talking about Kokichi’s dead disgusted that he raped his daughter and murdered his wife, the first part confuses Kokichi. Hospital scenes are then described with social services uncovering all the abuse and x-raying all the parts of his body. One of the doctors calls him a brave girl and Kokichi corrects him saying he’s a boy and the doctor suddenly goes quiet.

An investigation reveals Kokichi’s mother’s diary where she decided to raise her daughter as a boy because bruises are less noticeable on a boy and even expected than they are on a girl, some social workers try to explain this to Kokichi and even show him his birth certificate that says Koharu Ouma instead of Kokichi Ouma like he expected but it’s shown that he can’t really comprehend what they’re saying and thinks they’re lying.

They catch Kokichi’s father and he’s put on trial, Kokichi’s father insists repeatedly that he did not kill the mother and Kokichi notes the obvious lie because he saw it happen, Kokichi is brought in as a witness and describes what happens only for his father to angrily interrupt him and call him a liar. Kokichi is removed from the courtroom because he’s getting upset but he hears his father still yelling saying Kokichi is lying even as he’s led through the halls of the courthouse. Later Kokichi is told that his father committed suicide in his cell.

Kokichi ends up at what is implied to be Maki’s orphanage where he’s suddenly forced to wear girls clothes, placed in the girl groups and called Koharu. Kokichi tries to explain that he’s a boy and his name is Kokichi but every time he does the adults give him pitying looks and explain that he’s a girl and his name is Koharu. One of the older girls is put in charge of him and she grows very attached and possessive of him, she tells him about her best friend implied to be Maki who used to be so good at taking care of all the kids but left the orphanage suddenly one day. It’s shown that she misses Maki a lot and Kokichi literally thinks that she’s trying to use him to fill the hole that Maki left. Time passes and Kokichi’s hair grows longer and he starts looking like a girl. The girl who takes care of him will often do his hair and dress him up in dresses and tell him what a pretty girl he’s growing up to be and he will internally think that he’s a boy.

By age 11 Kokichi has started to comprehend what his parents did and starts thinking about how his identity as Kokichi is a lie but being Koharu feels more like a lie to him than being Kokichi and he mourns the fact that the truth feels like a lie and the lie feels like the truth. He walks to a bridge in the rain and contemplates jumping and ending it all, the girl who takes care of him suddenly appears and stops him but she ends up losing her footing and falling instead. She ends up drowning and the caretakers at the orphanage think that they were playing around and it was an accident but that she ended up saving Kokichi. Kokichi is horrified that his actions caused a death and feels no better than his father. Later Kokichi steals a pair of scissors and some boys clothes cuts his hair and runs away from the orphanage.

Kokichi lives on the streets for a while and ends up meeting another slightly older boy with hair covering one of his eyes who is working on something to earn food and cash. Kokichi wants in but the other boy looks at him doubtfully and says that a kid wouldn’t really help him Kokichi decides to lie about his age and say that he’s 13 instead of 11 to be taken more seriously. The two boys introduce themselves to each other and Kokichi uses the name Kokichi Ouma for the first time in a long time.

It then goes on about Kokichi picking up more people who are described to be the future members of DICE and Kokichi notes that he’s making his own family, one his mother would never have approved of but a family no less. He then notices that his chest is growing and panics not wanting DICE to ‘know about Koharu’ he starts skipping lunch and binding his chest, he doesn’t miss the meal since he couldn’t taste it anyway. Kokichi then panics again when he gets his first period, he then reads that anorexia can stop girls from receiving periods and he stops eating dinner. He deals with the hunger pains by drinking liquids his favorite being carbonated drinks like panta. He starts wearing white to ‘play the game on hard mode’ to put more pressure on him to stop his periods because if blood appears on white clothes he won’t be able to hide it. DICE member notice Kokichi is eating less but they think he’s reorganizing food to give them more to eat and note that their leader cares more about them than his own health Kokichi lets them think that and feels guilty for lying to the people he cares about and he begins thinking that any admiration they have for him is based on his lies to ‘keep Koharu a secret’.

He feels like a terrible person for lying to the people he’s close to and then starts thinking he must be a terrible person because of all the shit that life has thrown at him and it must have all been because he deserved it and this causes him to start thinking of himself in a more villain like persona.

Then the killing game starts and that goes about the same as most fics describe, he actually likes Tenko calling him a degenerate male. He has complicated feelings about his attraction to guys and whether that means he’s really Koharu or Kokichi but decides to lean into it sort of like a whole ‘I’m so comfortable in my own masculinity I can flirt with guys’ but that means he slightly overdoes it. He feels slightly uncomfortable if not angry at Momota and his idea’s of masculinity. He recognizes Maki as the girl who left the orphanage and a lot of the anger he directs at her stems from his own guilt over the death he feels he caused.

The hanger happens and Kokichi takes off his shirt and Kaito notices his bindings but doesn’t seem to know what they mean, instead asking Kokichi if he’s hurt or something. Kokichi waves off Kaito’s concern but is releaved that he’ll die as Kokichi Ouma instead of Koharu Ouma.

He says his final speech to Kaito on the fact that he’ll do anything to end the killing game and says ‘I had to lie to myself to keep myself sane’ and there’s a flashback of Kokichi’s mother calling him a liar for telling her that his father raped him, ‘I had to lie to myself to stay alive’ and there’s a flashback to him lying to teachers asking if things were alright at home and his parents arguments.

He then finishes his speech and watches the press lower, he wonders what would happen if the first lie the lie that he was Kokichi Ouma had never been told and wonders what he would have been like if he had been raised as Koharu and if he would have been an honest person that anyone could like and get along with, he then decides it doesn’t matter because even if it was a lie being Kokichi Ouma was who he was and he was a liar afterall and it makes sense that his existence was a lie in and of itself.

I did a really poor job describing the fic because it was seriously well written and it’s deleted now so this is only from memory it was really emotional and I’m crying just remembering it but I really liked it so part of me always feels like this is Kokichi’s backstory. I also like the idea that he’s so thin because he’s deliberatley starving himself and the idea that he lied about his age and is tecnically younger than everyone.

#god this hurt to write #i remember the story being really well done though #i'd recommend it if it was still around #dangan ronpa #danganronpa #dangan ronpa v3 #new danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #drv3 #v3 #danganronpa v3 #ouma kokichi #tw

18 notes · View notes

cacchieressa · 8 years ago

Text

@thatgirlnevershutsup tagged me so here we go: Rules: List the first five* lines of your last 20 stories (or however many you have altogether. WIPs count). See if there are any patterns. *or so 1. and gravity, scientists say, is weak (Star Wars, Anakin & Obi-Wan [Obi-Wan/Satine]) Before he heads to Padmé's apartment, Anakin stops off at the quarters he still nominally shares with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka to change into clean clothes. Normally, he wouldn't bother, but Padmé doesn't like it when he gets engine grease on her furniture and he's currently covered in the stuff. When he opens the door, he's surprised to find Obi-Wan sitting at the table with a bottle of Tevraki whiskey in front of him and a mostly empty glass in his hand. "I thought you'd be out on the town with your duchess girlfriend," Anakin says, teasing. "She's not my--" Obi-Wan stops and sighs, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. 2. Everything That Rises Must Converge (Star Wars, Obi-Wan, Leia, Luke, Vader) Ben woke from a nightmare, one he hadn't had in years, of Anakin burning on the bank of a river of fire, calling out to him for help. He felt chilled to his bones, cold sweat drying on his skin. It was not yet dawn, but he knew he wouldn't be getting anymore sleep that day. Perhaps not for a few days to come, if he was going to be plagued by old nightmares. The Force was shifting, unsettled, around him, unnerving after his nightmares.

This gets long so the rest goes behind a cut:

3. if you find yourself lost, dig (Star Wars, Rey & Leia) Rey let herself get lulled into a false sense of security. The mission itself had seemed simple enough. "Fly me to these coordinates," the General had said, and so Rey had strapped herself into the pilot's seat of the Millennium Falcon and flown. "Stand there and look intimidating," the General had said. So Rey had stood just behind her with her face set in a blank mask and a hand on the hilt of her lightsaber while the General negotiated for the use of an old Rebellion base on Cardooine with the queen of the planet. 4. No Exit (Star Wars, Darth Vader/Ahsoka Tano) Darth Vader sat in silence as medical droids buzzed around him, repairing his life support system and replacing his damaged helmet. I won't leave you. Not this time. Ahsoka's words rang in his memory, tearing open scars he'd thought long since healed over. She was dead, or she would be soon. It should have been pleasing. 5. If You Wear That Velvet Dress (Push, Nick/Cassie) The shop is packed with uncomfortable-looking furniture and racks of clothing. It smells of steam heat, damp wool coats, and desperation. They fit right in, Nick thinks as he shoves through rack after rack of women's clothes before finding the men's section. "I'm not gonna find a tux at Goodwill," he says.  Cassie glances over from where she's fondling a leather jacket. "Not at this Goodwill anyway," she agrees, surprising him. 6. The Extraterrestrial Elf Emergency (The Middleman, Wendy & the Middleman) "And there were no signs of any disturbance?" the Middleman asked. "Other than the fact that someone did that to my doghouse?" the witness--a local homeowner named Charles Brown--responded, gesturing towards the garishly decorated and lit doghouse in his backyard. Gold garland glittered in the blink blink blink of hundreds of twinkling red and green lights. A sign wishing everyone a Merry Christmas blinked in counterpoint. "No." 7. belief undoes your disbelief (Star Wars, Baze/Chirrut) It's not a question of belief. Baze knows the Force exists; like gravity, like time, he is subject to its effects on his life whether he believes in it or not. He’s never believed in much-–the accuracy of his aim, his ability to reload on the run, and the accumulation of credits in order to pay for the finer things in life, or at least a bed and a shower and a hot meal when the finer things (and the credits) are in short supply. People disappointed him early–-the family who died or left or failed to keep in touch when he was the one who left. And friends only last as long as the credits and Correllian ale keep flowing. 8. Bait and Switch (DCU, Steph/Jason) Steph's a lot smarter than the dumb blonde most people take her for, so she's clocked the guy tailing her across campus within the first five minutes, on the long walk from Kane Hall to the Burton Auditorium for her Literature and Civilization lecture. She can't get a good look at him, but he's tall and broad-shouldered and wearing a leather jacket, which could mean he's an annoying LAX bro who's seen too many rom-coms and thinks stalking is romantic or a member of a gang who wants to kill her. Some days it's hard to tell the difference. He doesn't follow her into the lecture hall, though, so she spends the next hour taking notes about existentialism and wondering if Sartre had visited Gotham before he formulated the maxim that hell is other people, and what he'd have thought about vigilantism. She doesn't ask the professor though. She tries not to draw attention in her classes. 9. with our way lit only by stars (Earthsea, Ged/Tenar) It was deep winter, a time when the snow came as regularly as the sunrise, and the sunrise finally came earlier each day, when Tenar awoke from dreams of the sea. She had never been one to put too much stock in dreams; life was complicated enough without adding unnecessary prophecy to it. But the dreams returned night after night for a week and then two. She could almost taste the salt on her lips, and feel the swell of the waves even in their bed of sturdy oak. "Divination was never my gift," Ged said when she finally mentioned them to him, after her tossing and turning woke him after yet another week in which the dream bore her across the seas. "But if you feel there's something you must do, you should do it." 10. Celestial Navigation (Star Wars, Finn/Rey, Anakin) "Go, go, go, go," shouts flight control and the next wave of ships launches, the roar of their engines momentarily drowning out the whine and screech of the TIEs and the X-Wings wheeling above and the staccato bursts of blaster and anti-aircraft fire. The Falcon's entry ramp vibrates under the soles of Finn's boots, but they can't take off without Luke and he's not here. Finn reaches out with the Force--Rey's in the cockpit, right where she's supposed to be, but Luke is somewhere else, his brightness accompanied by the banked fire of the General's presence. Finn's comm crackles to life, and through all the static and the noise, he can hear Luke say, "I'm with Leia and Chewie on Command One. Get on the Falcon and get out. I'll catch up with you at the rendezvous point." "Yes, sir," Finn snaps out, and pounds up the gangway. "Rey, let's go!" 11. what spring does with the cherry trees (Star Wars, Anakin/Ahsoka) It's the middle of the night shift on their second day in hyperspace when Anakin realizes he hasn't seen Ahsoka since they boarded the Resolute. It's not unusual for either of them to sleep for a full rotation after a prolonged mission, but they generally check up on each other afterwards--she makes sure he finishes his after action reports and he makes sure she eats and hydrates, and they go over everything that happened and what they could do better next time. He reaches out in the Force but gets nothing back but a vague irritation, like an itch he can't quite scratch in the back of his skull. He finds Rex in the ready room, hunched over a datapad and a mug of caf. They review some intelligence reports that have come in from Coruscant and speculate about their next deployment, and then he asks, "Have you seen Ahsoka?" 12. the dream of flight persists (Star Wars/Firefly; Anakin/Kaylee) It was easier to get work when the twins were babies. In the aftermath of Palpatine's ascension, there was a lot of chaos as the people who understood what was coming fled to the Outer Rim, and many of them needed a pilot or a mechanic (or both) to manage their pre-war freighters or cruisers. People didn't ask as many questions when they saw a grieving young father trying to care for his adorable infants on his own. Now, it's more difficult, because the kids can't just be strapped into the copilot's seat while they nap or carried around on his back when he pushes his way through a cantina or marketplace looking for a berth. They talk too much, ask innocent questions that no one wants to answer, least of all Anakin himself, and while his skills tend to allow a certain type of people to ignore his famous face, he hates having to trust his children's lives to that kind of greed masquerading as kindness. He's tried leaving them with Owen and Beru, but none of them fared well with the separation, though Beru was more than happy to keep them. They've already lost their mother; he's determined they don't lose their father, too. Not after how close they came to losing everything because of his stupidity. 13. I'm crawling on your shore (Six of Crows, Kaz/Inej) The important thing, Kaz thinks after they fish him out of the water, is that no one can tell how irrationally terrified he was. The slight shivers could be attributed to the dunking he'd taken in the harbor, rather than his horror at being submerged and almost drowned. By the time the fight is over and he's on the deck of The Wraith, he has it under control, though the cold night air is colder against wet skin and clothes. The sensation is nauseating, but he swallows it down and grits his teeth until business is handled. It takes more than an unexpected dip in the ocean to throw Kaz Brekker. At least, that's what he needs people to believe. 14. Just a Little Bit of History Repeating (Star Wars, Vader & Leia) Assassination attempts in the Senate decreased sharply after the Emperor came to power, at least the ones that took place in the actual Senate building. As such, over the years, when he was not present while the Senate was in session, security had become lax. Needless to say, it was a bit of a shock to everyone in the massive room the day half a dozen assassin droids spilled out of the vents and began shooting. Darth Vader was, unfortunately, present, and able to make short work of the droids, even though he felt that the Empire would be better off if some of the sybaritic sycophants who served in the Senate were destroyed. He was no politician but he understood that it would look bad if they were murdered on his watch rather than at his command. 15. The Rumor of Rain (Star Wars, Shmi, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Luke, Rey) One of Shmi's earliest memories is of drops of water hitting her face and sliding down her cheeks--not tears, she thinks then--so she doesn't discount the possibility of rain, the way the other slaves do. (It's not until years later that she realizes they were not her tears.) Spacers are full of wild tales, more hyperbole than truth, but the galaxy is vast and Tatooine is one small dusty corner of it. The elders' stories say the desert used to be lush and green before war brought desolation with it, and there's still water out there for those who know how to look, for those the desert takes into its care. Shmi has always found comfort in those stories, in knowing that a thing doesn't need to be seen to be true. 16. There's Still Time to Change the Road You're On (Star Wars, Anakin, Luke, & Leia) Anakin frowns as he brings his starfighter in for a landing next to the circle of standing stones that mark the dead drop. Jakku is not quite as terrible as Tatooine--there's only one sun, thank the Maker--but it's still full of sand and heat. He grumbles about it as he slides down the ladder and his feet hit the ground. He's going to be finding sand in his boots for weeks, and no matter how much he shakes out his clothes, the cockpit of his starfighter will also to be full of sand, and Padmé will scold him for leaving trails of sand in her sheets. He growls low in his throat even though there's no one around to hear him. He's sure this is all Obi-Wan's fault somehow. 17. The Only Way Through (Star Wars, Ahsoka & Obi-Wan) Ahsoka glares at the flashing lights on the steering console and swears loudly when a sharp thump with her fist doesn't fix the problem. The ship reverts to real space and she braces herself, annoyed and rueful. She's survived too much to die like this, in a stolen Imperial ship that is apparently falling apart at the seams, but the Force is with her, because there's nothing nearby--no ships, no moons, no unexpected stars or black holes or gravity wells to swallow her up. She sighs in relief and sinks back into the pilot's seat, letting the tension leach from her shoulders and breathing her fear into the Force. She gives herself a couple of moments to relax and savor the feeling of not being dead yet, and then she gets to work. 18. The Wild Chance of Living (Star Wars, Ahsoka/Aphra, Vader) Whispers have dogged Ahsoka since her unexpected return from Malachor. She's used to it--rumors and gossip have followed her since she was Anakin's padawan, and she learned then not to take it personally. The distrust is also familiar, if more unpleasant. She remembers the taste of it from the war--from civilian populations and unfamiliar clone troopers, and occasionally, from other Jedi who didn't like her master--and from the years after, when she'd had to make her way hidden and alone. It's new among the Rebels, though. 19. The Black Knight (HP, Sirius/Remus) Remus placed the tray on the table with a thump, cutlery and china rattling. Sirius let out a low moan and lifted his head from where it rested against the cool mahogany. "Breakfast, sir," Remus said crisply, and removed the cover to expose runny eggs and bacon congealing in its own grease. "Ugh." "Will that be all, sir?" Sirius turned his head slowly to look at Remus. "Stop looming, Remus. Sit down." Remus's jaw tightened, the only sign of anger on his otherwise blank face, but all he said was, "Is that an order, sir?" "Yes. And dammit, stop calling me sir." 20. The reoccurring kind (MCU, Steve/Bucky) Steve still dreams of this sometimes, the whisper-soft touch of Bucky's lips on his skin, followed by the rough brush of his stubble or the wet velvet of his tongue. He used to wake up hard and aching after those dreams, frustrated and desperate and angry and sad all at once over something he wanted more than anything and knew he would never--could never--have, thanks to society, his health, the war--and once he'd had it, never have again, thanks to the ice, HYDRA, the Accords. He has it now. Bucky is warm and solid in bed with him, acres of bare skin begging for the touch of Steve's hands and mouth. He still has to fight the urge sometimes to break away and pick up a charcoal--has done it occasionally and they've both ended up smudged and gray in places charcoal probably wasn't ever meant to be. Luckily, skin is easy to wash clean, and the serum gave him an eidetic memory, so he can always draw Bucky later.

I don’t really have anything to say about them? Some should have been rewritten and some, no amount of rewriting could help. I feel like I try to shove as much exposition as possible into those first few lines to get it over with so I can get on with the story. But I am not and never have been great at first sentences. I feel lucky people bother to read my stories at all sometimes.

#random memes #writing is hard!#thatgirlnevershutsup #fangirl problems

5 notes · View notes