#brought to you by someone who nearly had a crisis about what she's wearing to church on Christmas vs on New Year's Day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angelqueen04 · 4 years ago

Text

Hamliza Month, Day 19

@megpeggs @historysalt

Pain Summary: Alexander races back to Philadelphia after receiving a terrifying letter. Warning/Note: Discussion of miscarriage, references to/implied depression (hence why there is no preview for this one and everything is under behind the Keep Reading link). The angst and sadness is strong in this one, folks. Fair warning.

Among other reasons for wishing your return is Mrs. Hamilton’s earnest desire. It seems she has had, or has been in danger of a miscarriage, which has much alarmed her. But Doctor Khun by whom she is attended with Doctor Stephens, assures that she is in no danger. However she is extremely desirous of your presence in order to tranquilize her. [1]

The words, read only once, still managed to burn through his mind. A miscarriage. This had never happened before, not once. Eliza always maintained excellent health when she was carrying their children. She seemed to blossom, keeping a rosy, healthy color about her cheeks as her belly grew. The births were always painful, that was true, but she came through each time without cause for alarm. Why was it different now? What had happened?

He really ought to be truthful with himself. He knew what had happened, what was different. Barely a year ago, both he and Eliza had nearly lost their lives during the yellow fever epidemic. It had only been thanks to the miracle of Ned’s tender care that they had survived. Then, there had been a great deal of sickness among the children, particularly little Johnny, which had only added to the stress Eliza labored under.

Then, of course, there was Alexander himself. Though he had done as much as he could to aid her in caring for their children while they were ill, he had seen even then that Eliza was not doing well. Then he had insisted on accompanying the army as they dealt with these rascals in the back country. She had asked him not to go. Just once, but she had asked. When Alexander had insisted that he had to go, if only because of Henry Knox’s lengthy and irritating absence from Philadelphia, she had fallen silent and not brought the subject up again, not bothering to argue with him.

He could still remember his last sight of her as he’d ridden off. Pale almost to the color of milk, a strange thinness about her person even though he knew she was eating regular meals. She’d looked exhausted, despite her frequent efforts to rest whenever possible.

Her condition had not improved in his absence. Mother Schuyler and his brother-in-law, Philip Jeremiah, had visited Philadelphia while Alexander had been away, and they had been much alarmed by Eliza’s fragile health. They had even tried to convince her to travel back with them to Albany, where she could rest among and be supported by the family. She refuses to leave without you, Philip wrote, and will not hear of the children leaving either.

Hurry back, brother. End this and come home.

Alexander recalled wincing when he read of Eliza’s refusal to leave the state without him accompanying her. He could guess very easily as to why she refused to go, even if she had not confessed her reasons to her mother and brother. So, he had had done his best to hurry things along, but everything could be handled only so fast. After Philip’s letter, there had been little news. Eliza wrote to him when she could, but she said little of her health, focusing instead on the children. She said nothing of him coming home either. The tone of her letters was brittle, almost wooden. It had only increased his disquiet, but there was little he could do except keep doing what he was doing so that he could return home.

And then, finally, came the letter. Knox said Eliza was ‘extremely desirous’ of Alexander’s presence. Knox wasn’t known to exaggerate in his choice of words, and really, they had only confirmed the unease he had been living more and more with as the weeks passed.

She needed him. She had needed him before, but he had still gone away, so certain that he was indispensable to ending this crisis with the whiskey rebels. So he’d left her alone in a way he had never done before while she was carrying a child.

And now that child was gone.

Alexander could feel the tears stinging his cheeks as he guided his horse onto Market Street, the setting sun shining now directly into his eyes. He barely noted passing the Presidential Mansion, his focus solely on locating a familiar gate in front of a lovely house of red brick.

He spotted the hitching post first, the one Alexander had ordered installed in front of the house for the use of guests or government officials that might arrive there on horseback. It was deserted at the moment, but that meant little. The doctors might have arrived on foot, or their horses may have been put in the barn behind the house, particularly if their stay was going to be of some duration.

Bringing his horse to a halt, Alexander vaulted off of his horse, and stumbled a bit when he landed hard. It had been a long time since he had done something like that, and he was no longer twenty-one. Getting his feet back under him, he looked toward the men of his escort, who had actually managed to keep up with him. Tossing one of them the reins of his horse, Alexander turned on his heel and strode to the front door.

Someone must have been watching for him, because the door opened before he could even reach for the knob. In the doorway stood Ned, stripped down to his waistcoat and breeches, with tired, dark-rimmed eyes. “Ham,” he greeted solemnly, stepping back to allow Alexander to enter the house.

“How is she?” he demanded as he entered the front hall. He struggled out of his military coat, both because it wasn’t needed – the house was more than sufficiently warm – and the sudden feeling that it did not belong, that it was almost insulting to be wearing it in this house of mourning. Eliza had not wanted him to go, had not wanted him out there risking his life when his family needed him here, but he had insisted on doing so, had insisted on playing soldier again, to relive the glories of his youth.

Well, he had, and now he, they, were paying the price for it.

Ned, to his credit, didn’t try to delay or prevaricate in his response. “Mrs. Hamilton is resting comfortably upstairs,” he said. “Mrs. Washington has been here for some hours, sitting with her so that she is not alone.”

Alexander barely waited for him to finish before he started to move toward the stairs, but was brought to a halt when Ned’s hand closed around his arm. “Ham, wait.”

He tugged at the other man’s grip. “Not now, Ned,” he said impatiently. “I need to see my wife.”

Ned didn’t relent, however, meeting him with an equally firm gaze. “You need to collect yourself first, Alexander,” he said. “You’ll do Mrs. Hamilton no good if you go rushing in there and disturbing her from the sleep she needs to preserve her health. Plus, there’s more that you need to know.”

Alexander wanted to shrug his old friend off and continue on his way to reassure himself of his wife’s survival, but his words struck him. Eliza needed to rest to get better. He shouldn’t disturb her. This was about what she needed, not him.

“Fine,” Alexander said through gritted teeth, and allowed Ned pull him into the dining room. There remained a fair bit of food on the table, looking like the remains of a buffet. There had been others here, but must have left before his arrival. At Ned’s gesture, he sat down at the table, eyeing the food warily. He wasn’t hungry.

“You should eat, Ham,” Ned said firmly as he joined him, seemingly reading his mind. “The last thing anyone needs is you fainting from lack of food.”

He shot his old friend an impatient look, but decided not to bother arguing. He picked at some of the meats and bread, avoiding the fruits.

“The children?” Alexander asked suddenly as he began to eat, the silence of the house falling heavy on his ears. Surely there should have been some noise coming from them? It was too early for them to have gone to bed.

“The President took them to stay at the Presidential Mansion,” Ned informed him. “He thought it best so that Mrs. Hamilton wouldn’t be disturbed.” He paused before adding, “Young Philip proved himself very responsible, keeping his younger siblings in hand.”

Alexander nodded. Under any other circumstances, he would be pleased by the news that his firstborn had handled himself so well. When he finally finished what was on his plate, he made to stand, asking, “Are you satisfied now, Ned? Can I see my wife now?”

“Just a minute, Alexander,” Ned said. “It’s important that you know her condition before you go up there.”

He stilled. Her condition? What did that mean? Was Eliza in further danger? “What is it?” he demanded.

Ned took a deep breath. “While I know that Secretary Knox’s letter intimated that Mrs. Hamilton suffered a miscarriage, Dr. Kuhn and I are more inclined to judge it a stillbirth. The babe was well formed, but was small, too small to have survived.”

Alexander closed his eyes. Poor, poor lamb, he thought, fighting back a wave of tears. He’d focused so much on Eliza that he had not given the child much thought. “What was it?” he asked. “A boy or a girl?”

“A boy,” Ned responded, his expression shifting from professional to sympathetic.

Another boy. They’d hoped for a girl this time, to give Angelica and Fanny a baby sister on which to dote, but they would have welcomed a son with equal joy. In either case, he and Eliza hadn’t had the chance to discuss names. Their poor boy would go into the grave without anything to mark his existence.[2]

Taking a deep, shaky breath to stem the tide of tears, he whispered, “I’d like to see my wife now.”

Thankfully, this time Ned didn’t try to stop him when he stood and strode toward the stairs.

Just as Ned had said, Mrs. Washington was with Eliza, having pulled a seat close to the bed. An embroidery hoop sat in her lap, but it was clear she had given up on working on it, perhaps due to the fact that only a single candle was lit in the room. The older woman looked up as he pushed the door open further and stepped into the room. A relieved expression crossed Mrs. Washington’s face.

“Ah, Colonel,” she said upon seeing him, “I’m glad to see you’ve returned.” She glanced toward the bed. “She’s been dreaming, and calling for you.”

Mrs. Washington was kind enough to quickly vacate her position and depart, leaving Alexander standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at his sleeping wife. Though the candle provided little in the way of light, he could see how, if anything, Eliza’s color seemed worse than it had been when he’d left. Her dark hair had been braided back away from her face, but that only emphasized how gaunt and haggard she looked. Even with her eyes closed in sleep, he could see the furrow of her brow, and Alexander knew that if he touched her cheek, he’d feel the clammy sensation of dried tears.

“Oh, love,” he murmured, drawing in a ragged breath. Sliding around to the side of the bed, Alexander unbuttoned his waistcoat and shrugged it off, tossing it carelessly onto the chair Mrs. Washington had left behind. After removing his boots, he crawled into their bed and curled himself around Eliza’s side, draping an arm over her and gently pulling her close. He buried his face into the crook of her neck.

Her belly was still swollen, he realized, like the baby was still there, though Alexander knew from experience that that would soon fade. Eventually, Eliza’s body would begin to return to its normal shape, and although the marks of her pregnancies would remain, there would be no other sign that there had ever been a sixth Hamilton child.

She’d had to deal with this all by herself. While Alexander recognized that she had had the support of friends like the President and Mrs. Washington, and the care of talented physicians like Ned and Dr. Kuhn, Eliza had still been alone. Who had been here that could truly share in her grief and sorrow?

Who should have been here? He should have, but he hadn’t, placing the suppression of a bunch of unruly rascals over Eliza’s health and wellbeing. Oh, there had been many good reasons, all of which Alexander listed to Eliza before he left, in his own head in the ensuing weeks he was away, and on the frantic, harried race back to Philadelphia.

But now… lying here, cradling Eliza’s frail, fragile form in his arms, he realized just how hollow those reasons were. Alexander should have been here, taking care of his wife during her time in need. But he had turned his back on this duty, the sacred duty of any husband, and now God saw fit to punish him for it.

The tears came silently and, while part of him fretted about disturbing Eliza, once they started, he had not the strength to stop them. “I’m sorry, my Betsey,” he whispered into her neck, clutching her even more tightly to him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Alexander held her close all through the night. He must have slept at some point, because when he opened his eyes, he found, first, that the dawn’s earliest light was beginning to creep through the window, second, that he was lying on his back and, third, Eliza had shifted away and now lay on her side, her back to him. Tremors shook her body, and he could hear the sound of repressed sobs.

He sat up hurriedly and reached for her, saying, “Betsey?” He pulled at her shoulder gently, urging her to turn back to him. He could feel the stiff resistance in her body for a moment, but then it gave away and she let him bring her around to face him.

Eliza’s cheeks and eyes were flushed and red from crying, and he wished he had a handkerchief to wipe away the tears. Instead, Alexander gathered her back into his arms, cradling her close and letting her bury her face in his chest while he rested his chin on top of her head. He rocked her as he would rock one of their children when they were ill, trying to soothe her even as he struggled to keep his own grief in check.

They stayed like that for a while, remaining undisturbed by the outside world, for which Alexander was grateful. Much as he longed to see his children, right now it was their mother who had to be his first priority. She had suffered his neglect, his disrespect, for far, far too long, and this was the terrible, terrible result.

“We’re going to leave, Betsey.” The words flew from his mouth before they’d even fully formed in his head, but as they settled into his thoughts, everything began to take shape. Correspondingly, her shaking body stilled in his arms. “I’m going to start writing my resignation.[3] I’ll submit it to the President, and I’ll start making preparations for us to return to New York.” He leaned back and looked down into her face. “We can perhaps stay with your parents for a time? Would you like that?”

She stared up at him with watery eyes, and he was not blind to the naked skepticism in them. He winced, knowing that she had a right to be doubtful. Alexander had talked of resigning before, had made vague promises that they would return to private life, but he had never followed through. He had made excuses for it, citing this or that crisis that required his guiding hand. Eliza had endured and soldiered onward, even as their continued residence in a city that she had never truly warmed to wore on her. She’d even endured a scolding by letter from Angelica when she heard the rumors of Alexander’s considered resignation from public service, though he didn’t think she ever responded to it.

“It’s time to go home,” Alexander said, and then he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I know you have cause to be suspicious, darling, but I truly mean it. We’re going home.”

Eliza did not respond, but she slowly sank into him, relaxing into his embrace for the first time in months. She buried her face into his chest, and her fingers gripped his shirt in the grip of someone who had been drowning, but now had something to keep them afloat.

Alexander refused to disappoint her. Not again.

-----

[1] Henry Knox to Alexander Hamilton, 24 November 1794.

[2] In truth, we don’t know the gender of the baby Eliza and Alexander lost at this time. No record was ever left that I know of, not even where they might have buried the poor mite. I chose to go with the baby being a boy because it seemed more likely to me. Out of eight children who came from successful births, six were sons, indicating that, on a physical level, Alexander was more apt to father boys.

[3] Alexander Hamilton to George Washington, 1 December 1794. Alexander certainly did not waste time, did he? Knox’s note above was dated November 24th, and literally within 7 days, Alexander had received it, raced back to Philadelphia to Eliza, and then wrote his dated resignation, which I imagine Washington received that same day or close to it, given its important contents. One week.

#my fanfiction #hamliza month #hamliza #alexander hamilton #elizabeth schuyler hamilton #edward stevens #martha washington #tw: depression #tw: miscarriage

56 notes · View notes

wonderlustlucas · 5 years ago

Text

four - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt They say good things come in fours. Who? Couldn’t tell you, but they especially do during Christmas. Maybe that’s just Saint Nick. ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 11.7k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. mentions of alcohol & s e x. teenagerz being teenagerz. insane amount of fluff & stupidity. kind of ends w a smutty cliffhanger. ⇢ summary After suppressing how you felt about Hyunjin back in high school, you thought you were done going back on your feelings. Turns out, a little time apart, the spirit of Christmas, and an accidental nap is the perfect cocktail for falling in love with your best friend.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n hello & merry christmas! here is a gift for you all on this very merry day. also, thank you for 1,000 followers! that in itself is one of the best presents i could ask for. thank you for all your kindness & support on my blog & for following me in the first place! it truly means so much to me. i hope you enjoy reading! ♥︎

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Sorry! I just woke up

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Whats wrong fool

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Did u rlly think 12 texts were gonna wake me up?🤦🏻‍♂️ godt damn u on some WACK shit

You roll your eyes in time with each consecutive text that Hyunjin sends, waiting for the lock screen of your phone to blacken after reading them. He’s about as useless as pedals on a wheelchair, you think, ignoring the texts and forcing the device into the snug back pocket of your jeans before transferring the last two excessively packed grocery bags into the trunk of your car with an exhausted huff. Christ, if the bagging lady put one more item in those bags, she would be the one to blame for six cans of soup rolling about the parking lot.

The license plate rattles when you slam the trunk lid closed before hurrying around to the driver’s side and anxiously hopping inside to start blasting the heat. It is obnoxiously chilly for the first of September. Well, not really. Your body is just beginning to get used to the ungodly wrath of summer’s sweltering heat leaving you in a constant state of sweat and nausea for the past three months. Not that you’re complaining, of course. You nearly did somersaults of joy when the morning news reported a temperature of sixty-one degrees with some wind gusts and welcomed the beginning signs of autumn with open arms.

You would never admit to Mom who told yo uon the way out to change out of a tank top or at least wear a jacket, but yes— you are, in fact, cold. But now you have godsent warmth blowing from the vents and the seat warmer on its highest setting beginning to thaw away the goosebumps painted on your skin. Giving your arms one last rub, you lean up enough to retrieve your phone and open the conversation with Hyunjin.

[2:37 PM] YN: please. smell my balls

[2:37 PM] YN: nothings wrong btw. i was GOING to ask if u wanted any specific snacks for tn buttttt someone didn’t answer

[2:37 PM] YN: and excuse u i called too. i may be an idiot but im not stupid

[2:38 PM] YN: ik u would never hear a text when ur having wet dreams of yeji

You stop there with a smug smirk when the three dots on his side appear, knowing you’ve hit his funny bone with this one.

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Bruh

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇 :I’ve literally never have had a wet dream ab Yeji pls stop

You cannot fight your shit-eating grin, thumbs circling over the keyboard in thought as he apparently deletes whatever other text he was going to send when the three dots disappear.

[2:38 PM] YN: mmhmmmm

[2:38 PM] YN: because last time you slept over you weren’t whimpering her name in ur sleep

[2:38 PM] YN: sureeeee

You decide to end your teasing there and continue once you’re home. It is starting to get late, after all, and Mom will begin to worry that the creepy employee always in aisle sixteen has abducted you. Plus, you’re cruel and like to watch Hyunjin suffer. Switching the ringer off, you throw your phone into the cupholder and drastically lower the heat and turn off the seat warmer. It’s starting to feel like a sauna in here, and not in a fun way. Can’t understand how anyone enjoys hanging out in a sauna to begin with anyway, but to each their own, you guess.

In the five-minute drive it takes until you are pulling into the driveway, Hyunjin calls three times. He is incredibly peeved at your lack of a response to his distressed texts and still wound up from your text about Yeji. As if! You’re already a clown not realizing his ever-growing affections for you, but to think he had a crush on Yeji? You’re the whole damn circus!

By the time he calls a fifth time, now sat up on his elbow in bed and strumming an annoyed beat of his fingers at his thigh because he really just wants to yell at you for being the most annoying person alive (and maybe to hear your voice, too), you have brought in the last of the bags and look to Mom who has started to put the groceries away and expects you to half-heartedly do the same.

“It’s Hyunjin. He’s having an existential crisis because I haven’t answered his texts,” you explain to her, unenthusiastically holding your phone as it vibrates against your palm. Half of you wants her to ask to finish putting everything away first just so you can torture him even longer. Alas, such extravagant wishes are denied, because when it comes to Hyunjin, your parents would undoubtedly throw you under the bus just to keep that boy happy. And so, just like any other time, Mom’s undying love for Hyunjin has her dismissing you from the kitchen with a hearty laugh.

“Jesus Christ! What?” You hiss, halfway up the stairs when you tap to answer his call on the last ring.

“Wow! Look who finally decided to answer!” Hyunjin shouts back, the swoosh of his sheets once he finally falls back against his pillow again rustling all too loudly through the phone. “I was driving,” you spit, marching into your bedroom and collapsing against your bed, the same rustle of your blankets sounding loudly into his ear. “There’s a thing called the speaker, ___. Ever heard of it?” He retorts, evidently shutting you up and he knows he won this round if your silence is anything to go by.

“Whatever,” you groan, using all your toe strength to kick the sneakers off your feet by their soles, “what was so important that you couldn’t wait and had to call me five billion times?”

“I had a question. And you hurt my feelings.” Well, shit. You can practically hear and see his pout through the phone and your heart positively swells in your chest at how undeniably, unjustifiably cute he is. You sigh.

“I’m sorry for making fun of you about Yeji. I’m going to do it again but next time I promise I won’t pull the wet dream card,” you apologize frankly; because, in all honesty, it would be worse to say you are not going to do it again when you most certainly will. Bullying Hyunjin is fun, what can you say?

Hyunjin heaves an exasperated breath from his lungs because he knows there is no point in arguing with quite possibly the most sarcastic human he knows and that’s the best form of an apology he’s going to get. Whatever. He’ll make sure to wipe his morning snot and droll on your shirt in the morning. “Anyway,” he grumbles, in the background you hear Kkami bark from a few rooms over, “I was going to ask if you wanted to come over my place instead? I know your parents probably want to see me and stuff but mine are out of town for the night so we can sleep in my bed until like three without Mom waking us up to force feed breakfast.” You roll your eyes. Of course your parents want to see him.

“Plus, Mom just put that grey comforter I know you really like on my bed so we can cuddle all night and watch stuff on YouTube,” he quickly adds as a convincing afterthought. He’s really got his sales pitch going on this one. Truth is, you have only slept in his bed with that stupidly soft blanket twice last winter break, but it’s still sweet that he remembers how much you loved it (aka how quickly you fell asleep and how grumpy you were being woken up because it’s just that darn cozy). Either way, you would never pass up an opportunity to snuggle up with Hyunjin in the comfort of his own bed with his citrusy, floral scent on the pillows luring you to sleep.

“My Mom is going to be heartbroken, Hyunjin,” you tease, “but who cares. You had me sold at sleeping until three. Do you still want me to bring the snacks I got?”

“Oh, thank God. I love your Mom’s cooking but I haven’t left bed all day and I really want to keep it that way. And yes, please. I’ve been eating dry cereal for the past two hours.”

“Hyunjin, have you brushed your teeth yet?”

“No. Didn’t you just hear me? I said I’ve been in bed all day. Eating cereal. When would I have brushed my teeth?”

“You’ve officially taken breakfast in bed to a whole new level, Jin. I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh, and please, you have no concept of personal space so make sure you brush your teeth before I come over.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Love ya, bye,” Hyunjin promptly hangs up, probably eager to get back to binging whatever drama he’s watching before you lecture him about his hygiene again. Not that it matters, anyway; chances are, it went in one ear and right out the other and you’re going to drag him out of bed later to brush his teeth.

Damn. You didn’t even get the chance to say love you back. Not that it matters.

It doesn’t, you quickly shut down the pesky thought that keeps you up at night and force it back into the storage part of your brain labeled ‘Deal with Later,’ because, really, you’ll have to think about that later. It’s not that you don’t want to think about it yet… you just don’t have the time to stop and really figure out what your feelings toward Hyunjin actually are. Yeah. That’s it.

And now isn’t the time, you tell yourself, scooting up the mattress in order to bury your face in the pillows to suffocate the pounding throb in your head. Hyunjin is nothing special.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Everything about Hyunjin is special. Anyone with eyes, ears, even a nose can sense that. You had quickly found out just how wonderful he is when you met him freshman year of high school. At the time, he was everyone’s sweetheart by the first day, but it just so happened his eyes were all on you.

He was obviously adorable, and every class you had together he always made a point to talk to you and returned your sarcasm with an impressive level of expertise. So, when it came to him asking you to the first homecoming, the answer was yes without a second thought. But during the last slow dance of the night, with his hands gently holding your waist, he at last listened to his conscience and revealed that as much as he liked you, he truly did not want to date in high school. Or right then, at least. And honestly, you were glad; Hyunjin was quite possibly your favorite person you had met thus far, and you would have rather kept him as a friend than commit to a relationship the second month of school and risk losing him later down the road.

And boy, keep him as a friend you did. As it turned out, Hyunjin grew to be your truest, best friend in high school. Sure, you each had your own friend groups, but the two of you were the iconic pair everybody knew. But strictly platonic, despite the rumors and wishes that went around for the next four years. You like to think that neither of you ever developed feelings past what everyone feels toward their best friend— an innocent, wholesome sort of love.

But when had things changed? Hormones, as always, were definitely a big part of it. Hyunjin was always a cutie, but it wasn’t until he grew into his own skin and developed a newfound confidence did you start to see him differently. Until everyone saw him differently. Neither of you missed the way people stared him down, pupils dilating every time he ran his fingers through the black tufts of his hair, hearts aching for some sort of interaction. Or when you started attending parties, groups of girls would fling themselves at him in a blundering disarray, most of which he would turn down with a gentle dismissal that flew over their heads, too drunk to actually care.

But then there were times his dick made the decision for him, desperation and deprivation weighing in on him and you’d watch with a tight jaw as he’d leave the room with the pretty girl of the night skipping after him. You never realized it was only on those nights did you wind up in the back seat of Han Jisung’s car.

But even after the physical attraction sizzled out over time, things were not the same. Hyunjin wasn’t your hidden little treasure anymore. All eyes were set on him and it took more than a glass of water to swallow your jealousy. But why? Why were you so resentful all of a sudden?

It’s hard to share Hwang Hyunjin, you decided. Once established that you were his main hoe and he was yours, it became a significant burden watching others try and get in between. Not that they did it with a malicious attempt to separate you, but it still hurt. You’re selfish, and you admit it— Hyunjin, quite frankly, is the love of your life. Romantic or not, nothing could change your feelings toward him. It goes beyond his unfathomable beauty and spunky personality. Everything about him from his nose to his hands, to his distaste for onions and the way his face scrunches up when he lets out that giggle of his and even to the way he prefers to sleep against the wall but will force you to when you’re over so he can “protect you in case there’s a monster” all mount into this big, giant section of your heart set aside for Hyunjin.

So despite your efforts to ignore the pang of jealousy each time he would find a potential someone or the joy whenever he’d find his way back because “they kept wanting to hang out in the morning even though I said I don’t wake up before noon,” this Hyunjin-shaped hole in your heart seems to only grow the longer you ignore it. Kind of like every medical condition out there: the longer you ignore it, the worse it gets. So, basically Hyunjin is your heart disease.

Yikes. Sounds a lot worse when you try putting it into words.

Well, he won’t be your heart defect for long if he keeps ruining those pearly whites of his by only brushing once just before bed, you chuckle to yourself, rolling to your side at the sudden lack of oxygen between your face and the pillow. There’s a fleeting moment without thought when you unconsciously reach for your phone to check for any notifications before the fattest revelation of them all falls from the ceiling and smacks you right upside the face.

Shit. Looks like you’ve gone right ahead and totally dissected each and every fiber of your feelings for Hyunjin.

Blinking up at the ceiling, the weight of your emotions isn’t as heavy as you expected them to be. Instead, it’s more of a breath of fresh air, as if you have finally accepted the way things fell instead of ignoring them. Your feelings for Hyunjin have always been there. It just took a little effort to get them out.

Nevertheless, it is going to be difficult hanging out with him in a few hours with your exposed emotions still needing to be processed. Especially when he will pull you to his side and keep you nestled there the entire night. Rubbing your temples, you realize it will take some serious self-control to put everything on the back burner and just enjoy the time spent with Hyunjin.

Sighing, you check the time on your phone again. 3:21 and a text from Hyunjin asking if you could bring green tea.

“Mom!” You yell, defeated. “You were right!”

You used to think Hyunjin lived far away. Truthfully, he’s only fifteen minutes away if you go ten over the speed limit. But the only way to get to his house entails driving through the chaos of the mall and town center, which adds an extra ten minutes sitting through traffic no matter the time of day.

Now, Hyunjin’s college campus is two hours away. Well, technically five from you, since you’re almost three hours away in the opposite direction. So you’re lucky if you get to see him once a month with how hectic school becomes and how difficult it is trying to plan to come home the same weekend. Fortunately, it has worked out this semester. And while you should spend this time with your families, they know how much you crave one another’s company as the weeks drag on. The twenty-two minutes it takes getting to each other’s homes is totally worth it.

You expect Hyunjin to tell you to use the key hidden underneath the resin meditating frog statue in the front garden to unlock the front door when you text him you have arrived, but to your utmost surprise, he’s there, awake, to open the door for you.

“Stinky!” You yell, dropping your things on the floor to burry yourself in his embrace, standing on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck in order to really get the full experience of hugging your favorite giant. “Poopy!” He shouts in return, long arms winding tightly around your waist and even going so far as to lift you up a few inches. God. Hate when he does that.

“Why are you up? I thought I’d have to let myself in with you sleeping all your problems away,” you ask, smiling gratefully when he bends down to pick up your bag. “I realized Kkami hadn’t been out all day, so I came down to let him out and find actual food,” Hyunjin explains as he makes way into the kitchen, opening the back door to let said dog back inside. “Aw, poor thing,” you pout, squatting to scratch at Kkami’s neck when he zooms faster than the speed of light to you, “does that mean you brushed your teeth?”

“I did, actually,” Hyunjin snorts right back, scrunching his nose at you before turning away to open the fridge. Sitting on the floor with Kkami in your lap, you take the opportunity to finally get a good look at Hyunjin now that he’s distracted. And of course, he looks good. Really good. Last time you saw him he still was a brunette, a look he rocked during the spring and summer months. This is the first time you’ve seen the freshly dyed black hair in person. Even though he always looks handsome, something about Hyunjin with black hair completely changes his aura. Brings back memories of how badly you wanted him in high school. You shiver at the thought.

And, to top it all off, how he manages to stay in such disgustingly good shape despite his atrocious eating habits never ceases to amaze you. Like, come on. The boy eats worse than a raccoon seven days out of the week, lives off boba, works out maybe five times a month, dances in his free time and still keeps his body in tiptop shape. God, you hate him. His pediatrician probably hates him, too. You even go as far as to sniff the fries in your dining hall and you gain five pounds.

Even now, he looks unnecessarily regal in the baggy material of his sweatpants and flannel. And the warmth of his kitchen’s ambient lighting does nothing to suppress the heavy thumping of your heart. So casual is his dress, yet how immaculate he looks rummaging the cabinets for a snack.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, the familiar softness of his voice shaking you from your daze as he closes the refrigerator door after his unsuccessful search. Here’s the thing: you really aren’t hungry, but Hyunjin clearly is, so if you say no then all he will be thinking about is food until you decide that you are hungry. “Yeah,” is what you say, nudging Kkami off your crossed legs to stand, “I brought green tea and a few snacks, but we could order Chinese food or something. The place near Dunkin’ and the gas station makes bubble tea now, too.”

Hyunjin’s brows shoot up, flashing his boxy smile. “Is it good?”

“I mean, I’ve only had their pork dumplings and mango tea before, and it was pretty good. I don’t know about their noodles or anything, though,” you shrug, moving to stand beside him at the kitchen island. Distracted by Kkami trying to jump onto the sofa in the living room, you don’t look to Hyunjin until the poor dog is successful in doing so. Startled to find him already gazing down at you, your heart truly is not prepared for him to go right ahead and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. Totally not freaking out or trying to overthink his need to constantly cling, you justify his actions by quickly recalling the time he said, “My head is too godtdamn big for my godtdamn body.” More like his head is too heavy because instead of a brain it’s just a chunk of cement up there. He just needs to rest his head sometimes.

Yeah.

“Mm, I don’t know,” Hyunjin hums, swaying your body with his to an unheard tune. By now, any coherent thought has dissipated into thin air and all you can do is melt against him. “Why?” You manage.

“’Cus if we order anything that means I’ll have to get up and get it.”

“Oh my God, Hyunjin, really?” You laugh. Your hands naturally glide to where his are linked at your stomach, pressing to interlock your fingers overtop his. “If that’s the only reason for your uncertainty than I could always come get it, idiot.”

“No! It’s okay,” Hyunjin says, jumping back before you can even process it, “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“Ohhh ‘kay,” you laugh breathlessly, whiplashed by the whole thing. Good thing you aren’t hungry, because when was the last time Hyunjin turned down food? Blinking at him precariously, he doesn’t seem to notice until one too many seconds of silence pass by.

“C’mon,” he demands excitedly, jumping back into reality, “my roommate told me to watch this anime called Soul Eater but I wanted to watch it with you.” Once again, before anything can even register past every single That Was Cute™ alarm ringing in your brain, Hyunjin is grabbing your bag and reaching for your hand, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs.

You and Hyunjin binge aforementioned anime until he falls asleep first around 2 AM, only stopping to order food an hour in (he’s an indecisive man indeed), to get up to retrieve it, and to actually eat while catching up. For most of the night, you are able to forget the way his heartbeat against your back mirrored your own in the kitchen. But then, a little while after you fall asleep yourself, Hyunjin unconsciously shifts closer and you spend another hour blinking at his relaxed hand twitching against your abdomen, trying to keep the hurricane inside your heart at bay.

You can’t make it home October. Hyunjin texted you to let you know he was going to be the third weekend in, and you tried desperately to manage your time in order to make it work. But one group project in chem lead to another paper in psych and before you knew it, your roommate was listening to you sob over a boy and curse out your classes.

September left you emotionally wrecked, to be totally honest. You hate Hyunjin and you hate the way he makes you feel and you especially hate how realizing you have a crush on him makes you unsure if everything he does is his way of hinting he feels the same or if he’s always been this touchy and you are just now recognizing it. So, missing a month of seeing your favorite human being essentially means missing another day of trying to decipher which actions of his go in the Friend list, and which go in the Questionable list. And that, my friend, is unacceptable.

You absolutely cannot not go home this month. November is the calm before the storm (the storm being exams looming the second week of December), and while it would be beneficial maybe staying on campus to continue preparing, you tell yourself going home will be just as helpful. Mental breaks, and stuff. Totally not just to see Hyunjin.

Either way, Hyunjin asks you if you would join him on the seventeenth to go to his second cousin’s christening and you absolutely cannot say no when you know how bored Hyunjin gets at family events when they aren’t for him. And so, fast forward to the third Sunday of November and you are ready to pass out ten minutes after entering the church.

“I’m so happy for you two! I always knew you would last into college,” one of Hyunjin’s aunts exclaims, pinching your cheeks but the only pinch you feel is that of your heart.

Clearly she is misinformed, or just prone to jumping to conclusions but yet again, you can’t really blame her with how couple-y you and Hyunjin are. Past the single tunnel vision of your gaze, you watch her smile falter when Hyunjin goes rigid beside you and oh my God this is the most embarrassing moment of my life, his whole family thinks we’re dating and here we are still stuck in each other’s friendz—

“I’m glad you think so, imo,” Hyunjin suddenly picks up, sneaking an arm around to rest his hand on your hip, tugging you close, “I don’t know what I’ll do if she ever decides to leave me.”

It’s nice to think that he means it, to imagine that you are here not as a tag-along but to join him in a family ceremony because you are part of the family. The thought turns your blood to sugar and everything surrounding you falls apart; you listen to the rest of their conversation without processing it, the precise detailing in the marble pillars blurs into a mass of white, and you still feel his strong hold on the curve of your waist yet you are lost in the swam of possibilities.

How lovely it would be to live up to her assumption. To ‘last into college’ as a couple, not as best friends. To be able to call him yours even when you’re not together, to come home and kiss his lips, to sleep in his bed and it mean more than the laziness of blowing up the air mattress. At some point, he leads you into the third pew to sit beside his parents, and when you greet them with a hug all you can think about is them viewing you as more than their son’s friend.

God, you hate it.

You’re not as religious as Hyunjin and his family. But for the first time in years, you find yourself looking to the crucifix during the service and praying to whoever is up there to give you some strength and patience, because Lord do you need it.

Hyunjin is a funny guy.

Or so he thinks.

It’s not that he isn’t funny. It’s just— compared to your friends Minho or Changbin, he isn’t at the top of the list. When you think of Hyunjin, the first words that pop up are soft, loud, and dramatic.

It’s not that he isn’t funny. He’s just weird.

Insanely, ridiculously weird. For example, the time he called Jeongin a vitamin. Or the time he slapped half a bottle of sunscreen on his face. Or his random bouts of dancing at inappropriate moments. Just to name a few.

After the Baptism, Hyunjin acted like nothing happened. Didn’t even bring it up. Not even a joke. After the ceremony, you joined his family for a luncheon, which just involved the two of you being weird and making peculiar dancing videos on SnapChat with the swirly filter and complaining about school for a few hours until he drove you home. Obviously you stopped for food again on the way.

But that was it. Things went on as normal, and you returned to campus later that night and forced the whole experience to the back of your brain. It was officially grind season, and grind season meant studying for exams. No parties. No boys. And certainly no Hyunjin.

You both were home for winter break in the blink of an eye. And in normal Hyunjin style, he sort of vanished for the first week. Probably catching up on his strict sleeping schedule, you presumed, and accepted the fact that it was going to be a few days before you saw or even heard from him. The only anticipation you felt was wanting to give him his Christmas gift.

After what seems like an eternity away from Hyunjin, you get out of the shower on this fine Saturday before Christmas to find a slew of texts from him.

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Aloha mamacita

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: How do u feel about getting froyo tn

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: We can get fat and then u can sleepover aaaand

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: We can stare at the wall for a few hours

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: And

[5:53 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: *cough*

[5:53 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Exchange Jesus gifts

See? Weird. Who wants froyo when it’s thirty degrees out?

[5:53 PM] YN: “aloha mamacita”

[5:53 PM] YN: uHmmmMMM

[5:53 PM] YN: im down mr president

[5:54 PM] YN: why do u want ice cream in winter tho. don’t u want like

[5:54 PM] YN: hot chocolate or seomthing

Obviously not. Two hours later, Hyunjin arrives to pick you up for froyo despite all your efforts in convincing him maybe you could take the train to the city and watch a light show, or simply drive around and swoon over the rich people houses and their Christmas decorations. He didn’t budge. This leads you to your second question of the day: why is it that when you threw on sweats for the occasion you called yourself a hag, but upon entering Hyunjin’s car you make a mental note of how hot he looks when he’s wearing the same exact thing? You groan at the thought. It’s because it’s Hyunjin, of course.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he greets, flicking your forehead once you settle into the seat of his Subaru WRX because he’s a hotshot and likes to flex that he can drive a manual. Not really— the car is absolute garbage by now, having been his Dad’s old car (his Dad likes to flex too, apparently). However, Hyunjin takes care of it enough for it to seem five years old instead of ten, and, either way, watching him work the stick shift is unexplainably hot.

You swat his hand away. “Drive, bitch,” you huff, twisting to buckle yourself in. Once he’s reversed out of your driveway, you glance back to find him fighting against a devilish smirk.

“So,” you start once he has navigated out of your neighborhood. His brow twitches up. “Are you taking Hawaiian and French at school? You’ve been throwing quite a lot of languages at me recently.” Hyunjin shoots you an unamused look. You return it with a wrinkle of your nose.

“Anyway,” he ignores your teasing, pausing to switch gears for whatever reason so he can make it through a yellow light, “how did your exams go?”

“Well, you know…” You trail off, looking to your window. It feels a lot later than eight o’clock. With it getting dark so early in the evening nowadays, it feels as if nighttime is always following you.

“You know… what?” Hyunjin interrupts your daze, concern laced in his voice. “They were fine. I passed everything, I’m just worried about my major,” you explain sadly, barely glancing at him before you are turning back to the window to stare at the moon. Must be nice being a moon. Just get to hang out in the sky watching everyone and being watched.

“I mean, if you want to switch, now’s the time. Better do it now before the second semester,” Hyunjin advises, wise as always. Not really, but he’s right. “What are you thinking of going into?”

Yikes. He’s going to kill you.

“Nursing,” you blurt.

“Oh my Lanta, ___, are you serious?” He groans, stopping at a convenient red light presenting the perfect opportunity for him to smack his forehead on the wheel. Dramatic. “How are you gonna manage that? You’ll practically be two years behind everyone else!”

“I know,” you sigh, throwing your head back on the headrest, “that’s the problem. Bio just isn’t doing it for me. I don’t think I can spend the rest of my life in a lab watching mitosis. I need something more rewarding, so theoretically nursing is a perfect start. I don’t know, though.”

“Why don’t you switch to interior design or something? We could get our own HGTV show, ___,” he says, but you don’t meet his gaze when he glances over because beneath his words, you can sense some serious hopefulness. Interior design would be cool, but you’ve never considered that as a career choice. You once helped your parents pick out everything when they redid a bathroom at home and that turned out great, but as a major?

“I don’t know, man. I’ll have to talk to my counselor about it, I guess,” you shrug, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt over your head and tightening the drawstrings until the material covers your eyes, “why can’t you audition to be a K-pop star or something? I could be your manager. Heck, even your makeup artist. I’ve done your makeup before, remember?”

Hyunjin laughs, loud, and the sound sinks deep into your heart and makes you feel warm all over. Stress? Gone.

For the next few minutes or so, the ride is comfortably quiet. At some point, he turns on the radio and Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” floods your brain and reminds you to look forward to exchanging Christmas gifts later. God, you hope he likes it. You really went out on the sentimental gifts this year.

Hood shielding your vision, you jump when his large hand suddenly comes to grab the top of your head, squeezing hard and you imagine he’s trying to press some hopefulness into your brain. “Hand on the penis stick, Hwang,” you bark, blindly reaching for his own head across the way and pulling his ear when you do so. Good Lord, you hope no one can see into the car because… what.

Hyunjin lets out a giggle this time, reaching to pull you into a headlock and even though he’s got your head shoved up against his sturdy chest and goes on to give you a noogie, you’re stuck being all high and loopy on the sound of his happiness. And hey, it’s nice to know you’re the cause of it.

“We’re literally parked, idiot. If you had your hood down you would’ve realized,” Hyunjin snickers, releasing you after watching you struggle for a few seconds. Jerking away from him, you swiftly pull back your hood. “Oh,” you laugh, reading the flashy Yogo Factory sign above the building in front of you, “you could’ve just told me instead of watching me bask in misery.”

Hyunjin suitably ignores your moaning and groaning by getting out of the car and standing in front of the car, illuminated by the headlights. Why? Why must he look so scrumptious in his black hoodie and grey sweatpants and four-year-old white Nike sneakers? He has no gosh darn right!

After fixing the mess he made of your hair, you at last join him outside the car, shooting him another glare and moving ahead of him to open the shop’s door without waiting for him. “From now on, we have to start texting each other what we’re wearing before we go out, ‘cus this looks a little ri-donk-ulous,” Hyunjin whispers in your ear as you make your way to the cup selection, trying to ignore all the stares you— no, he is getting along the way.

“What do you mean?” You ask, plucking two medium sized cups up before turning to look at him. Then you look down at yourself. Oh. Looks like you’re both wearing the hoodie from junior spirit week. “Nice.” Just Couple Things™!

Back to Hyunjin being weird— why did he drag you all the way out here just to get a cup of chocolate frozen yogurt and maybe half a scoop of peanut butter chips?

Meanwhile, he watches in absolute disgust as you blow through your own dessert. Vanilla yogurt with probably every topping offered because you physically cannot make a decision, especially when they have chunks of cookie dough up there.

“So,” Hyunjin starts, trying not to look you in the eye considering you look like a goblin shoveling globs of diabetes down your throat, “have you talked to Jisung recently?”

You choke on a Fruity Pebble at his inquiry, prompting him to reach across the table and slap your back a few times until your esophagus is cleared. “Ugh,” clearing your throat one last time, you take a few sips of water while shooting him a glare. Jisung? Really? “How dense are you?” You hiss unintentionally.

Hyunjin raises his hands in defense. “Just a question.”

Yeah, just a question. Dumbass. “I mean,” you laugh awkwardly, “not really. We have a streak on Snap and sometimes we’ll talk occasionally but I don’t text him every day or anything. How about you?”

He shrugs, concentrating instead on stirring his yogurt into a goopy mess. “Eh. We still use our group chat a lot but that’s it. He’s too busy making music in Malaysia.”

You chuckle at this, picking out the boba from your own cup and leaving the rest now that it has started to look like something sold at the Chum Bucket. “That sucks,” you offer, not the best at giving him consolidation, you opt for linking your feet around his own in some weird act of intimacy, “isn’t he coming home for the holidays, though? I’m sure you can all have a reunion soon.”

“Yeah, he is,” Hyunjin hums, suddenly too focused on trying to escape your trap under the table. Annoyed Hyunjin is cute. “Stoooop,” he whines, kicking at your shins before breaking into boisterous laughter at your relentlessness, “I will not hesitate to throw this cup at your face.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, “I’d like to see you try.”

At this, Hyunjin drops his stupidly long arms beneath the table and easily captures your foot by the ankle, pulling hard enough for you to slip down your side of the booth. “Hyunjin!” You shriek, panicking slightly at your sweaty hand’s insecure grip against the leather. You’re going to fall. You’re going to fall flat on your ass underneath a table at a frozen yogurt place because the boy you like pulled your foot too hard. Fantastic. Ignoring you, he starts to wiggle your shoe off your foot no matter how hard you try to squirm out of his relentless grip. “Stop trying to eat my toes in the middle of Yogo!”

Finally, he releases your foot, letting it fall limp against his thigh.

“God,” you huff, breathless as you squirm back up your seat, cheeks burning ferociously, “you are such an ass.”

Behind the playful smirk he fails to hide, something darker glints in Hyunjin’s eyes and it makes your heart skip a beat. Then, “We should go.” The suggestion makes the heat of your blush scorch even hotter down your neck and you instinctively turn away, only to find the customers on the other side of the shop watching you with just as perturbed looks. Fantastic, part two.

“Okie,” you squeak out, blinking after him in complete and total bewilderment as to what just happened when he gets up to throw his trash away. Whatever. Following after him, you too toss your cup out before quickly finding your hand engulfed by his larger one as he leads you back outside, the sudden sharpness of the cold air bringing tears to your eyes. You desperately want to ask him what that was about, or why he’s acting so sneaky, but you stay silent, too afraid your voice will come out shaky and vulnerable. Instead, you let him tug you into his side and try to keep up with him no matter how badly your knees threaten to buckle with each glance you sneak up at him.

It’s silent when you enter the car, watching warily as he reverses out of the parking spot and maneuvers through the lot. Your heart rate seemingly cannot slow itself down, adrenaline taking the place of oxygen the longer you stare at him, at the concentrated scrunch to his face, at the cute tip of his button nose and at the swell of his lips and you distantly wonder what would happen if you pulled him into a kiss at the next red light.

In the midst of your daydream Hyunjin clears his throat, bringing you back to reality and you realize with a startle that he has caught you. Jesus Christ! What has gotten into you? You mentally smack yourself upside the head, instantly turning away from his cocky little gaze and staring straight ahead in search of something else to focus on. “___,” he sing-songs, slow and sensual and entirely demolishing the walls you have built around yourself. It is at this red light you wish to simply open the door and run.

“Yes?” You manage, wincing at how small your voice sounds and while looking out his window instead of into his eyes, you notice him grip the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. The tension is insurmountable, weighing in heavily on your chest and you desperately wish to arrive home, even though that means having to survive the next twelve hours with him. Anything is better than the small confines of his car.

“What do you want to do when we get home?” He asks, cool as a cucumber. You pale. It is a dangerous question and you do not know if he realizes that. “Um,” you cough, scooting to sit up straight, “whatever you want.” You whisper the last part, genuinely petrified because you have absolutely no idea if your brain is twisting everything to make it seem like Hyunjin is flirting or if things are totally normal. No idea.

“Hm,” he offers, tilting his head in thought, “we shall see.”

Yeah. We shall.

The rest of the ride is quiet, comfortably or uncomfortably you cannot say because you are too busy trying to calm the Spongebob burning office scene occurring inside your own head, hopelessly telling yourself that everything is fine, Hyunjin’s fine, you’re fine. Just pretend like nothing happened, you tell yourself when Hyunjin pulls into his driveway with practiced ease. “Ugh,” he groans after retrieving your bag from the back seat, and you watch with a raised brow as he skips up to his porch, yelling, “I have to pee!”

“Begone with you, piss boy,” you tease, holding the screen door open for him as he struggles to unlock the storm door and pulling on one of his hoodie’s drawstrings just to annoy him. “Stop,” he growls, low and playful but nevertheless sending a swarm of butterflies to your tummy. You ignore him. Finally unlocking the door, Hyunjin shoves the keys into his pocket and seizes your wrist, yanking your arm down with enough force to nearly topple you into him. “Why are you being so annoying tonight?” He frowns at you, nose and brows scrunched in irritation and it is only because of his proximity do you finally soften up.

“Sorry,” you pout back, bringing your other hand up to boop his nose, “I just missed ya.”

“Ew,” he snorts, stepping past the threshold and kicking off his shoes. You follow suit, closing the door behind you and clicking the lock into place as Kkami comes sprinting over. “B-R-B,” Hyunjin announces, presumably bouncing away to the bathroom.

“Oh, boy,” you huff, squatting to pick up the fluffy little dog and hugging him close to your chest, “your dad is making my life very difficult.” Pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, you put Kkami back down and grab your bag before heading upstairs, knowing Hyunjin is going to take his grand old time and probably take a shit while he’s at it. Plus, you’re impatient and dying to take your bra off.

Aside from what light his Gudetama nightlight offers, Hyunjin’s room is ultimately left dark. Here’s the thing: he used to have a lamp on his dresser, but then he took it with him to college and only brings it home for summer because he’s lazy and sleeps the majority of the time he’s home, anyway. Instead, he put up his little remote-controlled Christmas tree in addition to the lava lamp he has beside his bed. Perfect. For Hyunjin, at least.

Switching both of these on, their subtle glow offers just enough to keep you from banging your toe against something. It’s happened one too many times. Hyunjin’s room isn’t messy— he really isn’t a messy person to begin with, but he will reorganize the furniture in his room fifty times a year and you never know where the crooked leg to his bedside table will be to ambush your pinky toe.

Setting your bag onto his bed, you excitedly fumble past all your layers and unclasp your bra, maneuvering out of it with a delighted exhale just as Hyunjin begins his ascent up the stairs, steps creaking loudly under his heavy trudging. “I’m an idiot,” he grumbles, leaning against the doorframe to catch his breath.

You don’t bother to look at him, opting to quickly retort instead, “We been knew.”

“Ugh,” Hyunjin groans, exasperated, and you finally turn to him after successfully jamming aforementioned undergarment into your bag, “anyways. I don’t know why I didn’t just come up here, because I have to wash my face anyway and you do too and now we’re both going to have to share a sink.”

“Aw,” you coo, tone dripping with sarcasm as you pat his arm, “poor baby has to share the bathroom.”

“I’m actually going to strangle you,” he sighs, nevertheless following after you into the bathroom.

“Kinky.”

Hyunjin glares, unamused as he opens a drawer for his pink bow hairband and your striped pink and blue one that he bought for you, but keeps here for sleepovers. Yeah. He throws it to your face. “Sorry,” you offer, pulling the soft headband up to hold your hair back, “I’ll try to stop. I’m just so used to annoying you.”

“Clearly,” he scoffs, flashing his stupidly cute teasing smile and in your head, you imagine raising a white flag in surrender— he’s got you, he’s won, it’s over. Time to call it quits and head home. Evidently shut up (for now), you offer him a roll of your eyes before turning on the sink to wet your hands before pumping out some of his scrumptious watermelon face wash. Maybe if you scrub hard enough, you’ll manage to rinse away all the overwhelming thoughts of the night, too.

Barefaced Hyunjin is immaculate. Well, Hyunjin is immaculate twenty-four hours out of the day, but barefaced, freshly washed, hair messy, ready for bed Hyunjin is immaculate, and you are one of the few people lucky enough to see this eighth wonder of the world as often as you do.

Now, maybe it has something to do with the unexpected ambiance the light from his laptop, Christmas lights, and lava lamp have created together that makes him look so unfairly beautiful at this given moment. Or, you’re just insanely pussywhipped and looking for an excuse. You try not to think about it.

“Why are you so squirmy tonight?” He asks, frustrated enough to interrupt Kermit singing ‘Shawty I don’t mind’ playing from his laptop. “I’m not,” you defend, a weak argument indeed, given that you have just finished adjusting your position beside him for the umpteenth time.

“I mean, four female Ghostbusters? The feminists are taking over! I’m an ad—”

“___, you’ve touched my dick like four times. Don’t try and tell me you’re not squirmy. What’s wrong?” Hyunjin interrupts a second Vine, and even goes on to talk over ‘I have the power of God and anime on my side!’ like a lunatic. Oh Christ, you have? Surely you would have noticed. “Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed as you bury your face into the curve of his pectoral and instinctively move your leg settled between his away, “I’m just hot, to be honest.” Technically, it is not a lie. Hyunjin’s family definitely keeps their thermostat at a higher temperature than yours and you always manage to sweat your ass off every time you come over. This time, however, you are certain it has more to do with the assault your heart is facing rather than your sweat glands.

At the sound of his tap against the spacebar to pause the video, you wordlessly and reluctantly sit up from your comfortable spot beside him in order to rid yourself of your heavy sweatshirt. Now, here lies the problem. Sweatshirt: off. Nipples: out. Realistically, Hyunjin has seen your boobs a number of times over the past few years, and even if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye. But right now, your heart is on the line, you’re embarrassed and you’re trying to play it extremely safe.

You toss the hoodie to the floor and nestle right back where you were anyway, slinging your right arm over his torso and ignoring his sharp intake of breath when you snuggle closer. “Better?” He asks, voice strained and it literally makes you nauseous. “Yep.”

He resumes the video. You had started early in the night watching Pom Poko, which unsurprisingly ended with the two of you crying at the bittersweet ending, then moved to TikTok compilations on YouTube to cheer up before moving on from them and onto the classic Vine compilations. You paid good attention for the most part, chuckling along with him to ‘What up, I’m Jared, I’m nineteen and I never fucking learned how to read,’ ‘Bruh chill, I don’t know why you in a big time rush,’ and all the other absolute comedic masterpieces. But after the fourth or fifth video of the same six second clips with an occasional rare one, you began to grow bored and decided to do what you do best: admire Hyunjin.

Sure, ‘Come get yo juice!’ followed by the loud smash of the oven made you smile, but you found the flashing lights casting shadows beneath Hyunjin’s eyes and lips much more fascinating. Of course, this is not the first time you have been held so close to him. But it is, however, all too easy to get lost in the sight of him and you’ve noticed recently that you are in desperate need of a map. Whether it’s due to your time away from him or simply an appreciation for untouched beauty you do not know.

Even now, your gaze flickers to his laptop once you hear ‘Get to Del Taco,’ but having already watched it five thousand times you tilt your head upward to catch Hyunjin’s silent giggle at ‘free-sha-voca-do.’ It’s a vicious cycle, really, going back and forth between wanting to simply enjoy the night and realizing enjoying the night lies totally in Hyunjin’s presence. And so, you continue to fall into this trap each time until you pay no mind to the videos at all, basking in the brilliance of Hyunjin’s joyous smile and the warmth his happiness makes you feel. It is this thought that slowly tugs you to sleep, a fight to keep your heavy eyelids open lost until finally, you give in to the comfort and allow yourself to drift off to the sound of ‘Step the fuck up, Kyle.’

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

“___,” the softness of Hyunjin’s voice at the crown of your head eases you from the clutches of sleep and you stretch your locked limbs before curling further into his side. “We didn’t open presents.” Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his pout, and you realize you must be awake to hear the disappointed words caught sluggishly between his lips so vividly. You hum, hesitant to open your eyes because you really want to go back to sleep. Just for a little while. And so, you ask, “What time is it?”

“Just past two,” he whispers.

You hum again, trying to formulate a sensible sentence in the parts of your brain still asleep, “We can… wake up at four. And open gifts. Okay?”

“Okay, weirdo,” Hyunjin chuckles to himself, sliding lower down the mattress after shutting his laptop.

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

You can’t remember ever falling asleep facing each other. But yet again, your brain is clouded beyond capability and now, you know for certain you are dreaming. Hyunjin never faces you.

Blinking slowly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the impenetrable darkness and you struggle to make out the features of Hyunjin’s face. You know you are dreaming, and so you tug him closer, throwing a leg over his thigh and an arm over his waist. Even in your sleep, you feel the sadness pricking at your heart, for even it knows this is only what dreams are made of. You like to make the best of it.

“You know I love you, Jinnie, right?” Your voice comes out funny, drawn out and mumbled like your tongue is numb and you fight the urge to feel for yourself.

“Of course I do. I love you too.” His reply surprises you. You thought he was asleep and, either way, hearing such fond words from him puts your heart at ease. He must be misunderstood.

“No. I mean like… I like you, love you. Like I want to kiss you… kiss you good morning and before bed love you. Send you hearts and take stupid couple pics and… go on dumb dates love you. You know?” Your words feel garbled and incomprehensible the longer you go on, trying to express how you feel when nothing is real proving to be increasingly difficult. God, if only you could do it when things are real.

You start to feel yourself slipping as he mutters a reply, mind in free fall and fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s whispering and you can’t hear him but you are too tired and helpless to wake yourself up to hear it. No, too lost in the next dream to go back. You can’t tell what is real and what isn’t. Christ, were you awake? You can’t tell. All you know is that you are warm, so, so warm and letting sleep take over you once more is the best answer to all your questions.

Hyunjin always says he hates waking people up. Because he’s normally the one needing to be awoken, whenever the roles are swapped he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

This time, however, he takes it upon himself to repeatedly smack your face with his pillow. Not a fun experience when it’s coming from someone who fails to recognize his own strength. “Jesus, fuck! Okay!” You hiss, the cloud of sleep abruptly ripped away from you with the slap of his pillow against your skin. Arms raised defensively in front of you, you catch his next swing and tear the pillow out of his grasp to shield yourself all before you have even opened your eyes. When you do so, with the blatant intention just to find where he is and hurl the pillow at him, you are met with the harsh light from his ceiling fan and have to squint past the stinging white light to see his shit-eating grin.

“Was that necessary?” You groan, undeniably annoyed and wanting to glare at him more but needing to rub the ache out of your eyes. “Yes,” is all he says, reaching for your bag and catapulting it to you. He is incredibly lucky you are quick enough to catch it before it thumps against your head. What has gotten into him? Did he eat an entire bag of Pixy Stix while you were asleep? You watch, still dazed from sleep and reeling from the whole pillow smacking attack, as he flings open his closet door and turns back around with two neatly wrapped boxes. You squint to make out the dancing Santa T-rex wrapping paper.

“Oh,” you chirp, understanding, and you unzip your bag to retrieve the large box taking up the majority of space, “thanks for waking me up. I’m surprised you remembered. Did you stay up?”

A rosy blush burns its way across his cheekbones. Odd. “I, um— yeah. No, actually,” he stutters, really odd, given he was bouncing off the walls not even thirty seconds ago, “I set an alarm. You made me sleepy.” Hyunjin sits beside you once you have scooted over, leaning against the wall and crossing his long ass legs. He keeps his eyes trained on the boxes in his hands. “Oh,” you hum, looking to your own gift and suddenly wishing for the mattress to swallow you up, “sorry. I haven’t gotten as much sleep as you on break so far.”

“I don’t think anyone ever has,” he jokes and you finally look to him, sharing a cheeky smile before he gets all shy again, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “um, Merry Christmas, ___.”

It’s a simple phrase, but it makes your heart swell. “Merry Christmas to you too, Hyunjin.” Leaning over, you wrap your arms around his shoulders in an awkward side hug, but still end up feeling all drunk and loopy on love when he eagerly returns the gesture, arms curling around you.

“Okay,” you huff, sitting back, “me first.” You dramatically hold your gift out to him, jittery and nervous all over. Buying for Hyunjin is always hard. He’s just so easy to please, but when you want to do more than just please him it’s a constant battle trying to decide how far out you are going to go for him each year.

You watch impatiently as he tears the wrapping paper open first, and then finally lifts the flaps of the box up. “Aw,” he whimpers, pulling out the quokka plushie and attached certificate, “you adopted a quokka for me?”

You grin when he hugs the soft stuffed animal to his chest, the weight on your shoulders partly lifted from his positive reaction. He reaches back into the box, brow scrunched in thought as he regards the framed picture. “The First Day…?” Hyunjin asks, perplexed as he reads the title above the constellation poster. You scoot closer, leaning over to look it over once more. “This was the constellation of stars on our first day of freshman year. The day we first met.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin sniffs, “that’s really awesome, ___. Thank you. This is coming with me to school.” At this, he hugs you again, probably to hide the tears you know are threatening to spill because Hyunjin is Baby and cries every year. “Anything for my favorite fake Aussie,” you smile, leaning your head on his shoulder as he reads through the quokka adoption letter.

“Okay! Your turn!” He exclaims, setting his gifts back into the box and passing you the smaller one of his. He catches your curious glance to the second one he keeps by his side. “We have to open this one together.”

“Christ, okay. Looks like I’m gonna be crying tonight, too,” you sigh sadly. “Ooh,” jumping ahead of yourself, you wiggle your eyebrows at the white box before you, “Hyunjin if you bought me a Fitbit… I swear to God. How many times have I said I am not working out with you?” However, once you finish tearing open the wrapping paper you find it is not, in fact, a Fitbit.

“It’s not a Fitbit, idiot,” Hyunjin scoffs a second too late, waiting for you to slip the lid off the box. “They’re bond touch bracelets.”

“Explain,” you murmur, enamored but confused at the two little house arrest looking bracelets.

“So basically, we each wear one,” Hyunjin starts, taking one of the bracelets out and a burst of color blooms across its small screen at the motion, “and if you touch it, mine vibrates and I ‘feel’ your touch.” As he explains, he buckles it around your wrist, twisting it so it lies correctly. You silently take the second one and help it on him, brain too caught up to actually say anything.

“Try it,” Hyunjin whispers, suppressing his excitement.

You gingerly bring a finger to the little screen, tapping it once, twice. Nothing happens. Frowning, you try again, tapping and holding, then a second time, and finally— a strip of pink light appears and the bracelet gently vibrates as you tap and hold a random pattern. In response, the bracelet on Hyunjin’s wrist lights up blue, buzzing in the same pattern.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you sniffle, fighting back your own tears because you refuse to let yourself ugly cry in front of him, “this is amazing. Now I can annoy you year-round. Thank you so, so much. I love you so much.” He hums, pulling you close when you turn to give him a proper hug. To your utmost surprise, however, instead of letting go he curls one fist into your side and helps swing your legs over to straddle his lap. “Oh.”

“___,” Hyunjin sighs thoughtfully, fingers playing with the sleeves of your tee, “I love you, too.”

You nearly spit up your coffee. If you were drinking coffee. Instead, you’re left with a dry mouth and a slack jaw at his words. Huh?

Glancing to the constellation picture peeking out of his box, and then to the matching bracelets you both wear, you find your mind reeling trying to make sense of it all. Yeah, you say the forbidden L-word to each another all the time, but most certainly not with you on his on lap and his lips mere centimeters away. The answer is so obviously clear as day you have trouble believing it.

“Fuck,” you laugh all of a sudden, as soon as the realization hits you, “I wasn’t dreaming, was I?”

Hyunjin lets out a joyous giggle, hands linking behind your back. Unable to hide his smile any longer, he clarifies, “You were not, madam. We literally just finished talking about when we were going to open gifts and then I got ready to sleep. Two seconds later you dumped your heart out to me, but when I answered, you were asleep.”

“Bruh,” you wince, hiding your face with your hands, “I am so sorry you had to deal with that.”

“No, don’t be,” Hyunjin comforts, reaching to tug your hands away. Your gut does somersaults when he intertwines his fingers with yours. “I was actually, uh, planning on doing some sort of confession to you anyway, but then you went right ahead and did it for me. So thanks for that.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, trying to wrap your mind around it all, “does that mean you, ahem, perhaps like me too?”

“No, I just got us really couple-y long distance relationship bracelets, pulled you onto my lap, and kissed you because I just want to be friends.”

“You didn’t kiss m—”

The sly little fucker interrupts your retort by quickly dipping down to press a fat smooch to your lips, missing miserably and you don’t know if he did it on purpose but you quickly fix the problem, releasing his hands to cradle his jaw and tilt his head the right angle. Finally, finally you kiss him, breathing in the smell of him like some sort of aromatherapy and whimpering into his mouth when his tongue swipes against your own. It is like nothing you have ever experienced, the taste and feel of him making you tremble and igniting a burst of electricity through your veins. You could kiss him forever, you think, sucking on his plump bottom lip greedily until he finally pulls back, desperate for air or trying to reel himself in you can’t say.

“You have to open your other gift,” Hyunjin reminds, chest heaving, and your gaze follows his long fingers as they comb his hair away from his forehead. Automatically, as if kissing Hyunjin once grants you some kind of free pass to do the same, you brush a few stray strands away from his face before leaning back to admire him. “Stoooop. You can’t do that and not expect me to kiss you again. Open. Your. Gift.” Hyunjin whines, squishing your cheeks and turning your head away.

“Okay, don’t blame this on me,” you huff, reaching for the second box before jabbing a finger into his chest, “you, sir, need to stop being so beautiful for like, two seconds.”

He scoffs, helping you rip off the wrapping paper, “You’re the beautiful one here.”

“Ew,” you wrinkle your nose, most certainly not used to Hyunjin dishing out such compliments, “this is too Hallmark Christmas movie for me. Let me open my gift in peace, ugly.” This box, unlike the bracelets’, is simple cardboard and when you lift open the lid, a brown leather book looks back at you. “You remember Up?” He asks.

On the leather, it reads Our Adventure Book in mismatched colors. “Yeah,” you whisper, flipping open the cover to find two baby pictures glued on the paper, one of Hyunjin, and one of you. At the top, it’s labeled ‘Before Shit Went Down.’ You laugh.

On the next page, there are random photographs from middle school, and then finally each other’s eighth grade graduation portraits. Then, written at the top is ‘Here It Begins,’ followed by a selfie he randomly took with you a few weeks into school freshman year, and then some from homecoming. Silently flipping through the rest of the book, your tears flow freely now, touched beyond comparison at all the photographs and all the memories accompanying them. Some are from large events like prom, others from random moments you don’t even remember, but each and every one comes together to form a special mold fitting perfectly into that Hyunjin-shaped hole in your heart.

The last picture is from the christening last month. Of course, it isn’t one of the nicer photos his mom took of the two of you, but a SnapChat selfie with the flaming sunglasses filter. He’s mid-laugh and you’re pressing a kiss to his cheek. Funny thing is, you don’t even remember taking it.

The page next to it is blank, aside from what’s written at the top of the page. “Togetha Foreva,” you read aloud, voice choked up and God, you cannot fathom how gross you look right now. “What the fuck, man!” You sob, punching Hyunjin’s shoulder before wiping your nose and cheeks with the back of your hands. “I didn’t sign up for this cock and ball torture.”

Hyunjin laughs loudly at this, pulling you into a hug and giving you a few seconds to recover. “Hyunjin, this is like… seriously the best thing anyone has ever done for me, holy shit. God, you Pinterest son of a bitch, this is such a good idea,” you groan, flipping back through the pages and getting teary-eyed all over again, “I can’t express how much this means to me, Jinnie. Thank you, really.”

Flashing that toothy grin of his, Hyunjin tugs you to lie back down with him and tilts your head up to press a much more accurate kiss to your lips. “I meant what I said before, ___,” he murmurs, “I don’t know what to do without you, and I know we only get to see each other once a month but I can’t keep living as just friends. You’re so much more than that. And I hope all the pictures we add from now on will show this new chapter of our lives. If not, well, then I guess I’ll just burn the book.”

“Are you asking me to be Kkami’s official poop-picker-upper?”

“Yes. Wait— what? No!”

You break into a fit of laughter, only to be interrupted with him pinching your side and causing you to let out a yelp. “Hey!” You bark, jumping closer to him and away from his hand until, finally, you give in to your self-indulgence and go right on ahead in swinging a leg over his hips and pinning him beneath you.

“You ruined my serious love speech, ___,” Hyunjin pouts, face scrunched up at you.

“I’m sorry, baby, go on.”

You pause, blinking slowly at him. He blinks back, the silence in the air weighing in heavily as both of your two brain cells bounce around trying to figure out what did you just call him?

“Never mind,” Hyunjin says, voice a low rumble of thunder as he reaches for your hips and easily flips positions, “I think you’re on the same boat.”

You laugh, tilting your head back and eyeing him indignantly. Fuck, he looks unfairly delectable hovering above you.

“Okay, how many more times do I have to tell you I love you for you to formally ask me to be your girlfriend, stupid?” You scowl, bringing your hands to cradle his neck, thumbs brushing delicately against his jaw.

“Call me baby again and we’ll see about making that happen.”

You raise a brow, tugging his face closer by the chain of his necklace. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas, baby.”

1K notes · View notes

natandwandaseries · 4 years ago

Text

A Nat and Wanda Series Mini Fic: Heart of Gold

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” “Are you kidding me? She is going to love it,” Wanda coaches Steve over the phone, rolling her eyes to Yelena. “I just want to make sure. Tony thinks I should have done a surprise trip to Paris or the Maldives,” “Don’t you get enough surprise vacations?” Wanda sighs, exasperated. “This was your idea.” “I know but,” Yelena gets off her couch, taking the phone from Wanda. “Is too late anyways. If she hate it, she break up with you,” “Do you think she would?” “No. See? Now you feel better.” She smiles, smug. “You be here at five thirty,” Yelena hangs up the phone. “We should probably check on Nat.” “She having existential crisis for sure,” Yelena agrees. They go up to the apartment Nat and Wanda share. To their great surprise, they walk in on Natasha completely calm as she finishes her hair. Her hair has been blown out and styled like it had years ago before Ultron crashed their party. In a far rarer occasion than Natasha doing her hair, she has put on makeup as well. “You okay?” Yelena asks. “Of course,” Nat shakes the can of hairspray. “You aren’t freaking out?” Wanda pipes in, “You are okay?” “Yes,” Natasha fails to keep the amusement out of her voices as she looks at the pair through the mirror. She stands up from her vanity stool and heads to the bedroom, her silk bathrobe just trailing on the ground behind her. They trail behind her, completely mystified by the out of character behavior. “Aren’t you curious what you’re doing tonight? Unless you already know?” “I know we are going to a show and dinner, that’s it.” “It doesn’t bug you?” “I’m choosing to go with the flow,” She answers, slipping into her closet and closing the door. “You feel okay? Someone slip something in food?” “Yelena, I’m fine,” her muffled response comes through the door. She steps out a moment later, wearing a black satin shift dress, pair of heels in hand. As she steps in front of her girls, they get a view of her back, the dress is low cut with crossover pearl straps. Nat goes over to her jewelry dresser and takes out a pair of emerald and pearl earrings with a matching bracelet. “You aren’t freaking out,” Wanda confirms. “I’m content, but I appreciate your concern, both of you.” She kisses Wanda’s head and bumps Yelena’s shoulder, grabbing the clutch off her side table as she walks out of the room, having since slid on the red bottoms. “Please behave tonight. I expect the apartment to be intact when I get back, and no international emergencies caused by either of you.” “I am adult,” “Not really.” She pulls on her green dress coat just as there is a knock at their door. Natasha opens it and Steve is standing in a suit with a bouquet of red roses in hand. “Happy Valentine’s day, Nat.” Natasha’s lips twist into her hidden smile as she places a kiss on his cheek, then takes her thumb to quickly wipe away the lipstick stain. She hands the flowers to Wanda, who happily takes them. The couple leave the apartment and Wanda turns to Yelena. “It is thanks to us that they got together,” “To us? Took until I got here for it to happen. You had years,” She widow scoffs, “I ordering pizza, you want?” Downstairs, Steve gets the door for Nat, and she climbs in without complaint, for once satisfied with being driven. “What was it that you said you first thought when you met me?” “Chivalry wasn’t dead, it was frozen in ice for seventy years,” Natasha laughs, thinking positively of that time in her life for once, with nostalgia rather than resentment. They pull up to the Lincoln Center and walk inside, down to the orchestra seating after purchasing two glasses of champagne. The theater begins to fill up, but no one bothers them. The curtain is drawn, and the show begins. Two and a half hours later, they step into the Russian Tea Room while Natasha nearly gushes about Don Quixote, while simultaneously critiquing a few dancers’ techniques. “Only you could both praise and criticize as the same time,” “I’m a woman of many talents,” She hooks her arm through his. Instead of being led to a table as she expects, they are brought to another room. The Bear Lounge. In the center of the room is a spectacular gilded tree, adorned with lights the resemble large Fabergé eggs, recalling the pair’s first birthday together. There is a large glass bear the seems to be frozen in place while juggling, and mirrors shaped like starbursts reflects off the walls. And on the ceiling is a painting of the cosmos, stars to guide one home. A string quartet plays on the far side of the room and Steve pulls out a chair for Natasha as they sit in the private room, large enough for at least two hundred people, but reserved just for them. “You really outdid yourself, Rogers,” Natasha sighs, taking it all in. “Really?” “It is perfect, I couldn’t have imagined a better night,” She places her hand in his, and rubs her thumb across the heel of his. The soft and intimate motion doesn’t cease until the water comes to take their order. As their meal draws to a close, Steve pulls Natasha from her seat, and she kicks off her heels, her bare feet sinking into the lush carpet. The string quartet begins to play their song, lyrics not needed as the two begin to dance in the under a night sky of their own.

29 notes · View notes

yukidragon · 4 years ago

Text

Our Life, but as Dark Fantasy

Okay, so, Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch is probably the softest story I’ve ever fallen in love with. (And I will always scream from the rooftops that people should play it because I love it so much and it’s free to boot!) It’s slice of life and low stakes and the focus is entirely on the characters living life together and their relationships.

Despite this and enjoying working on my personal sorta novelization and adding in new scenes that fit the mood and add more excuses for fluff... suddenly a light banter scene from one of the parts of the game spiraled out of control into a plot thread of a dark angsty canon divergence with fantasy elements.

Like, I have no intention of writing a full blown story about it or anything. (Not like I’m doing for my preferred route through the game at least.) But, dang it, my passion for this game can’t be contained, and it’s running away with me. Plus, hey, why not grant Cove his deepest wish to finally meet a mermaid?

In other words, I took a fun and fluffy scene from the game and threw in an ominous note of foreshadowing to it at the end, which then blew up into its own post-game scene. Am I going to show it? What the heck, sure. Here’s the scene under a cut. Maybe someone else will enjoy it too.

Disclaimer - my version of Jamie might not match yours, and this is written in third person, so if you’d rather not read about that kind of fan content for Our Life, play the game instead. The writing will be rougher than what gets posted on @dragonandtiger, as this is first draft fooling around. Also, spoilers for Step 3.

...

Cove pretended to sigh as he hung his head. “Maybe it’s for the best.” He peeked through strands of his hair at Jamie as he tried his best to keep a straight face. “Let’s say a merperson did happen to wash up on shore one day…”

He let the suggestion hang in the air for a moment as he turned to Jamie, wearing a faux doleful expression that did nothing to hide the smile in his eyes. “I could’ve lost my girlfriend to their magical underwater world.”

Jamie failed to stifle a chuckle, which quirked the corners of Cove's mouth upwards in response. "Sure, I'd go with the merperson," she teased, "but only if you could come with us too."

Cove didn’t try to hide his grin this time, his eyes lighting up with delighted surprise at the unexpected answer. “You’re a nice person, Jamie,” he said sincerely before he got back into character. He arched an exaggerated eyebrow, doing his best to display serious skepticism. “But what if they didn’t want me? Would you seriously stay on land?”

Jamie placed her hands on her hips and gave him a pointed look. Despite the ridiculousness of the conversation, she wasn’t about to joke on this point. There was nothing in this world that would make her choose to leave Cove behind - not even for some hypothetical mysterious other world full of magic and adventure. Though she offered no words in response, she grabbed onto his arm and clung to it with excessive possessiveness.

Despite the hint of actual seriousness that had crept into the playful debate, Cove couldn’t help but nearly chuckle when Jamie latched onto him, her silent message coming across loud and clear. He couldn’t help but smile softly and think of just how cute his girlfriend could be when she was, as he liked to call it, stubbornly affectionate.

Still, despite the moment of fondness, he wasn’t about to let the joke drop just yet. “If a beautiful, kind merperson falls for somebody, I’m pretty positive the sensible response isn't to turn around and say, ‘No thanks, I’m gonna stay on land with a normal guy.’”

“I don’t want that,” Jamie huffed. She puffed out her cheeks in an exaggerated pout, and Cove couldn't stop himself from chuckling a bit at the sight. She broke character to smile triumphantly at that, before she suddenly straightened up, her eyes lighting up with a brilliant idea. “I should get to be the mercreature, and then I’d invite you to the underwater world.”

“What?!” Cove blurted out, caught completely off guard by the suggestion. He stared at Jamie with wide eyes, his mind immediately already picturing the possibilities of what she might look like as a mermaid. It wasn’t too hard to visualize considering she was already wearing a swimsuit, and the image turned his cheeks pink with heat.

“That's…,” he began, only to falter for a moment. “You… as a mermaid…” He had to take a moment to again picture it, his mouth hanging open just a little in wonder. “That’s… I mean…”

When the idea finally finished crystalizing in his head, Cove couldn’t help but feel thrilled by it. “Yeah,” he said with a brilliant smile. “It’s a good idea.”

Jamie smiled, pleased to have had such a profound effect on her boyfriend. She adjusted her hold so that she held his hand in both of hers. “I’m glad you think so,” she said before her voice grew tender. Her dark blue eyes glittered with adoration as she peered deeply into his eyes of bright aquamarine. “Would you come with me?”

“I…” Cove faltered, staring at Jamie with wide eyes as his pulse quickened. Her gaze was electric, turning into nervous energy inside him that couldn’t be contained. Although he hesitated to remove the hand she held so tenderly, he fumbled with his free hand for something to fidget with and found the sunscreen bottle he had dropped earlier. He flicked at the cap, snapping it on and off again in an erratic rhythm.

After a moment, Cove closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. “Of course I would,” he finally answered. He tried to keep sounding playful, but the words came out soft with his sincerity. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Jamie was beaming, her smile as brilliant as sunshine.

“Thanks, Cove,” she said as she laced their fingers together. “I’d be a happy merfolk.”

Cove returned the gesture, squeezing Jamie's hand as little giggles escaped him. While the whole conversation had been intended as a lark, he couldn't help but feel deliriously happy by the little fantasy they had crafted together.

Jamie leaned in closer to her boyfriend, pleased by how much of an impact her words had on Cove. She couldn't help but imagine the scenario like he was at that moment. It would be such a lovely story.

Or at least, it would have been if it only remained nothing more than a fantasy.

Jamie was swimming like her life depended on it. Limbs thrashing through the water, propelling her closer and closer to the shore. She fixated on nothing else but making it back to Sunset Bird and…

“Cove!”

…

Cove Holden was a wreck. It had been two weeks since Jamie had disappeared, and the police had nothing to offer him but empty promises that they were trying their best to find his girlfriend.

He tried to hold out hope and remain patient, but the longer Jamie was gone, the more he could feel himself breaking down. He had the support of those who cared for him, but it wasn’t enough to hold back the despair that grew just a little deeper each day that she remained missing.

Despite the fact that Cove and Jamie had moved out of their childhood homes not that long ago, he was now spending nearly every day at the Leimomi house like he did during his childhood. Only, instead of going there to visit Jamie, it was to help her moms get through this crisis - it was the closest he could come to feeling like he was actually doing something more than just waiting in agony.

Cove also took to wandering through the old neighborhood more. He knew it was irrational to expect to find Jamie in the places they hang out throughout their childhood, especially when he, her family, and the police already thoroughly checked the areas. Despite this, he found himself at the top of poppy hill.

It wasn’t long ago that Cove and Jamie were both running down the hill, laughing and playing together like children as they raced ahead towards their future. The moment had been so peaceful, so wonderful. He remembered wondering what he would feel when he thought back to that day.

He had his answer now - an overwhelmingly painful longing.

The poppies were gone, just like Jamie. The hill was just as green as it always was, even in late fall; the ocean was just as blue as it beckoned to him not far away. Yet, to Cove, poppy hill felt desolate.

Cove had intended to leave by sunset, but he had been lost inside his head until he noticed the moon hanging in the sky. Despite the obvious reminder that he needed to go home, that he had work in the morning, he found himself lingering still. A part of him dreaded returning to an empty apartment and a bed meant for two by himself.

Looking at the moon and the ocean reflecting it along with the stars above, Cove was reminded of the first time he met Jamie. The sight of the horizon was the same as back then, but the heartache he felt then was nothing compared to the hell he was going through now.

Cove didn’t bother fighting the tears that spilled from his eyes, as he wished desperately for a miracle. “Jamie…”

Only the sound of the waves answered Cove. He closed his eyes listening; he could almost swear he heard Jamie’s voice answer him from somewhere far away, calling his name.

Then his eyes snapped open wide as Cove realized he wasn’t just imagining it.

Cove was off like a shot, running for the oh so very faint sound of Jamie’s voice. He shouted her name, and he heard his in return as he raced down the hill towards the shore. Once he reached the sand, he scanned the empty beach for signs of life, for the barest glimpse of blue hair and even darker blue eyes.

Movement on the waves drew Cove’s eye back to the ocean. Someone was swimming towards the beach, stretching a pale hand towards the sky in a frantic wave for attention as they surfaced.

“Cove!”

Cove kicked his shoes off before reaching the water, diving in without hesitation. The choppy waves fought him, but he cut through each one with the experience of a lifetime of swimming in the ocean brought him.

“Jamie!” Cove shouted so that Jamie would know he was coming for her. In the dim light of the moon and starry sky, Jamie kept disappearing among the waves, the blue color of her long hair serving to blend in with the dark water.

But Jamie answered in a voice aching with relief, and he knew she had heard him. “Cove!”

When Jamie reached out her hand again, this time Cove was close enough to grab it. He seized her body close and for a moment there was nothing the two of them could do but hold each other, salt water and tears mingling together as their shuddering bodies pressed close while buffered by a turbulent sea.

It was a moment of relief so exquisite that it was almost painful.

Unfortunately, the moment couldn’t last long. The water was too rough to remain there, so Cove shifted his hold on Jamie, hooking her right arm around his shoulders and guided her weary body back to shore. It wasn’t until his feet touched back down on the sand that he realized Jamie wasn’t doing the same, instead heavily leaning against him like a dead weight.

“Cove,” Jamie whispered, her voice hoarse from yelling and heavy with exhaustion. She reached out to him with her left hand, and the sound of metal clinking accompanied it. To Cove’s horror, he saw a shackle on her wrist, still dangling links of a broken chain. “Sorry… I need you… to carry me…”

Cove turned to Jamie, panic rising as questions rushed to his lips, when he finally got his first good look at her. He froze, his mouth flagging open as his eyes went wide and round as the moon.

Jamie’s legs were gone - in their place was a large fishtail covered in shimmering blue scales.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #Our Life #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #or rather #Jamie Leimomi #My Writing #yes I gave my version of Jamie a distinct last name #the developers sounded keen for players to at least give Jamie unique last names #so I just went for it #I should probably give a tag to this au for my personal tumblr #since I suspect this won't be the only blurb I throw up here #Mermaid Jamie

27 notes · View notes

if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 4 years ago

Text

Check Ignition: Part VIII

The Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person requested and I dove into headfirst

First part // Previous part // Next part

Send me requests for other fics, ideas for this one, opinions, whatever! My apologies if the quality seems to have one downhill; I'll be doing minor edits for the sake of readability when I have a good chunk of free time.

“Shhh, guys, leave it,” Jens said. Everyone’s comments died on their tongues. Zoë and Moyo herded the superfluous students from the room and left as well, shutting the door behind. Moyo almost clapped a hand on Robbe’s shoulder, but seemed to think better of it in favor of a saddened smile. It didn’t really help. Robbe wasn’t sure if they ended tonight on good terms.

“We’re going to bed early,” Aaron suggested. “We have to get a jump on those damn exams.”

“Leave it,” hissed Jens.

“I was just saying, we’re—”

“Leave it.”

“It’s a good idea,” said Robbe. “We’re going to bed early.” He hadn’t realized how angry he was all week until faced with its culmination. And now—now he was tired. Stupid and single and tired.

There were still no sheets on his bed; he hadn’t gotten around to doing anything with them. He could perform a cleaning spell on the mattress if it got too bad in their absence. Whatever. Robbe couldn’t be bothered to rifle through his trunk for a cleaner blanket, so he crossed the room and grabbed the one off the fourth bed.

Motherfucker. It smelled like Sander. He really couldn’t win, could he? Robbe threw the blanket to the decimated floor and curled up without any covering at all.

“He wasn’t that attractive,” said Jens, breaking his own rule. “Had to get those roots done again.”

Robbe clamped his pillow over his ears. “Shut up.”

“We haven’t been to Hogsmede in a while. Might be nice to go tomorrow. The four of us.”

Hogsmede. Robbe’s eyes burned.

“I need to stop at Honeyduke’s,” Aaron agreed. “It’s Live It Up week.”

“I’d fancy a pint at the Three Broomsticks.”

The Three Broomsticks. Robbe was not going to cry over this. It brought him back to Sander explaining their fake love story to Zoë, all the little accurate details, all the possibility… that’s all it was. A story. You don’t like me. He cast the Muffliato charm across his four-poster before the tears started flowing. Once they started, they didn’t stop until morning.

“You don’t have to tell us a thing,” Jens said. “We understand.”

I want to, Robbe thought. He rolled over and faced the wall for the remainder of the night.

***

As much as he would love to hardcore sulk, Robbe had never been that kind of person. Sander was gone. They weren’t even together for that long, so there wasn’t much sulking warranted. He took Saturday and Sunday as unofficial off-days before exams, in that he spent them with Jens, Moyo, and Aaron, pointedly not talking about Sander. They did not go to the Three Broomsticks. Jens passed a whole afternoon in Honeyduke’s, attempting to sample every flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavor beans.

Okay, Robbe sulked. But not hardcore.

Robbe resolved that one Monday he would snap out of it in time to guard his outstandingin his five classes. What should he do? What had he learned? He could start there. Starting there was something.

1. He should never drop a class for someone he wasn’t really dating.

Robbe’s Potions exam was the first on Monday, and he went into it grossly unprepared, despite hours of common room studying. There was a large difference between reading theory and enacting what it said. Plus, a lot of his library time focused more on Sander’s eyes than on the written material.

Everyone else chopped up their beans and sprinkled them into their brews without difficulty. Robbe couldn’t remember how many he should use. In the end, he dumped a whole handful in completely whole and stirred counter-clockwise. How much could it hurt, anyway? He left fifteen minutes before the exam period was up, and the Potions master did not bother to stop him. The Drought of Living Death he prepared could probably kill the whole class, Britt and all, even if not in the way it was meant to.

Why had he stopped attending in person? What could Britt have done to him? It hit him—she probably knew the dating thing was fake from the beginning. Sander might have planned it all out to make Robbe look like an idiot.

That wouldn’t account for that night in the workshop.

Fuck that night in the workshop.

Sander waited outside the Potions classroom, his back on the wooden doorframe. Britt would be done soon. It didn’t give Robbe any satisfaction to brush by Sander without speaking—or at least, not until he saw Sander rubbing his arm in the aftermath. Robbe must have hit him with the door.

“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder, hoping it sounded blasé.

It could have been anyone there, he thought. Sander wasn’t special anymore. Then he went to his bedroom and stared at the wall over it.

2. He was not straight.

The specifics were, as of yet, unclear. He was in love with Sander, which meant he liked boys, but he’d kind of liked Noor too. Not romantically. Or even sexually. But like, he enjoyed her company.

Sometimes.

He wasn’t in love with Sander anymore, though, definitely not. Robbe figured if he told himself that at least four to five times a day, it might become a little more accurate. Two weeks was too short a time to fall for someone.

After all this, he needed to get Jens alone and lay it all on at once. Bad phrasing be damned. The boys began packing their belongings on Wednesday, after a mostly uneventful Transfiguration exam (Moyo turned his cockroach into a pair of earrings that still moved their spindly antennae—he seemed satisfied). They would leave on Saturday afternoon. Aaron tried a simple cleaning spell, Scourgify, and ended up scattering his belongings to the four corners of the castle. He scurried away to pack the rest manually, Moyo at his heels to help.

Jens and Robbe were alone. Robbe was ready to talk about it.

“Why is Moyo always here?” asked Jens, in a way that made it sound like he was breaking the tension.

His plan failed, of course, because Robbe was already speaking. “We have to talk about something.”

They stared at each other. Jens blinked.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you,” Robbe began. “I wanted to, but it was always so complicated.”

“Uh, sure, okay.” Jens shoved a crumpled shirt into his trunk, followed by a pair of ripped slacks he could never wear to class again.

“This thing I had with Sander… it was fake to him. But, well, uh, to me—”

Jens nodded. “I know.”

Damnit, no.

“Jens,” Robbe tried a second time, “I’ve realized some things about myself recently. They kind of explain other things, from earlier, so…” He switched tactics. Who knew how long until Moyo and Aaron returned? “Do you remember when you and Jana broke up? How you found out about what’s-his-name and—”

Another shirt in the trunk. Some more destroyed pants. “Yeah.”

“Cool. So um, you should understand that it was—” It was never this awkward to talk to Jens before. Jens was supposed to be easy. Robbe folded his shirts by hand, like his mother did, and placed them carefully in his own luggage as he thought of how best to phrase this. “I did it on purpose. She was gonna tell you and I—well I said—”

“You’re not making sense.”

“I know things about myself now. Learned them. From that. and this.” Here it came, the big jump. Even though Robbe knew Jens, Aaron, and Moyo outlined a whole plan to get him and Sander together, he still worried about what they’d say when confronted with the reality of it. “Jens, I’m—"

“I know.”

No, that wouldn’t work. Again, “Jens, please, I’m—”

“It’s okay, Robbe, I know—”

“I don’t want you to know!” Robbe flopped a shirt down harder than he intended. “I want you to let me say it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m gay. That’s who I am. With or without Sander. Okay? I need you to understand that it’s like that with or without him.”

“I—”

“Don’t say you know. You’re my best friend.”

“Okay,” said Jens. “I understand.”

“Good.”

Jens closed his trunk on top of some clothing that spilled out the sides. He sat down on it to close the latch. Then he reached out and gathered Robbe into the tightest hug ever. It wasn’t nearly everything that Robbe wanted to say, but it was some, and Jens didn’t run away from him. Sexuality crisis, somewhat had. Robbe was sure there would be more later.

3. You don’t like me.

Robbe’s final exam was History of Magic. Luckily, his cramming paid off. He breezed through the questions on the first and second wars faster than any of his peers and was out the door within thirty minutes.

Most students were trapped in their classrooms for another half-hour or more. Empty corridor stretched in all directions, and Robbe didn’t have anything to do for the rest of the day. He knew where he wanted to go.

Sure enough, his astronomy tower perch was vacant. Bright sunlight dyed the campus in shades of yellow and gold, made the upper turrets appear as drawings from a children’s book. Robbe noted in passing that someone had collected Sander’s picnic blanket from its forlorn position on the roof. That made sense. Filch himself must have cleaned.

From overhead, soft music played. Robbe was sure he was hallucinating. He sat down on the sill.

Oh fuck, maybe not hallucinating. Noon cast a shadow of someone above onto the roof below.

Sander’s blanket wasn’t where he’d dropped it on night one because Sander sat on the overhang above the window. He had it splayed across the shingles, a compact player oozing the final lines of that same damn song on a loop, his wand gripped in his hands.

Robbe couldn’t escape him. Couldn’t escape how he felt about him. He could bring it under his control if he made it look purposeful.

“Hey,” he said. “Don’t you have class?”

Sander startled.

This was a mistake. Never mind. Robbe should go.

He leaned even further out the window for a better view of Sander’s setup. A stack of textbooks balanced precariously, end on end, held aloft by a complicated charm of some sort. A quill rolled down the roof and stopped as if by an invisible wall. Sander had created a bubble for his things.

“Cheers to exams,” Robbe said, a bit louder. Sander did not look at him. The music cranked itself up to mask Robbe’s voice—perhaps it was spelled to muffle all noise Sander did not want to hear. That wasn’t fair. “This is my spot.”

“You said you didn’t want to be friends,” said Sander. He didn’t sound upset. Why did Robbe expect him to be upset?

“Can you turn down the music?”

“Britt’s going to join me.”

“That isn’t really what I asked.” Robbe wondered if interactions like this would ever stop hurting. But he didn’t feel as bad as he felt last week. Or on Friday night. Maybe the finality of a no was all he needed to move on. He recalled Sander’s speech word-for-word, mostly the end. You don’t like me.

It hit Robbe in a moment of irrational bravery, when Sander’s music dialed up in volume. Their first night in the astronomy tower, together, illuminated by Britt’s wand. The CD playing in the background. Sander knew what he was wearing on a specific double-date on a specific day—there was no denying something existed between them.

And to have Sander talk like that, say it was nothing… it wasn’t nothing, not to Robbe, and Sander needed to hear it.

So he said it. No introduction, no nothing. “I liked you.”

The Major-Tom-planet song quieted. Definitely some kind of magic there.

“I liked you so much,” he said again. Now that it existed, now that it was said, there was nothing to stop him from continuing. “You can’t tell me I didn’t.”

One of Sander’s quills rolled to the edge of the bubble, only this time, it dropped out and fell the length of the tower.

“We made it up, we agreed,” Sander whispered. “I’m sorry.” He slid down from the roof, landing beside Robbe on the sill, then jumped to the floor. His belongings trailed behind him in a floating line.

Robbe stood his ground and blocked the staircase. “It’s not your thing to decide.” His voice softened. “I liked you. So that’s that. And it’s done.”

Sander scuffed the floor with his shoe.

“Good. You never have to see me again.” Robbe pointed down the stairs for dramatic effect. “I have class. Bye.”

He felt lighter than he had all week when he descended the staircase. Any lighter, and he would have missed it when Sander said, “I liked you, too.”

4. He was a jerk to Noor.

Robbe sought her out on the train home, abandoning his friends in their own little compartment. They had plenty to discuss without his involvement. Pranks and whatnot. The usual. Noor was alone in a compartment near the back of the train, a dozen or so scrolls of parchment dispersed around her. She wrote on one with a broken quill.

She wasn’t a bad person. Robbe should have just told her. The least he could do was tell her when everything was over.

“Hey,” he said, taking the seat across from her.

She looked up, surprised. “Hello.”

“You seemed like you could use some company.”

Noor blushed. “No, I—Britt’s sitting elsewhere, and I have a lot to do.”

“With Sander,” Robbe supplied.

“What?”

“Britt’s with Sander.”

“Oh, um, actually—”

Robbe wasn’t in the mood for the nitty-gritty details of whatever Britt and Sander had going on. Obviously it was toxic. Not his problem. Besides, this conversation was for Noor’s sake, not his own.

“Listen, about me and him,” he said. “I need to apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to lead you on.” He hoped it wouldn’t get awkward. The extent of his recent planning was pretty much just say it without warning and hope it works out.

“I don’t read smoke signals,” said Noor curtly. She set her quill down on the seat next to her, ink stains bleeding into the cushioning. “But I get it.”

“No, it was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Awkward silence. Robbe wasn’t built for prolonged chatter with anyone besides Jens, Moyo, and Aaron. The girls’ group was the exception, and only when Jana and Zoë were present. He fiddled with the beginning of a hole in his yellow sweater.

“I suppose I should apologize too,” said Noor, after a while. “That was fucked up, to say he’d get bored of you. I was a little—well, you know.”

“If it helps,” Robbe said, “you were right.”

Noor frowned. She sat up in her seat, and her parchment fell to the carriage floor. The sweets trolley passed by their sliding doorway without stopping—its driver could likely sense the tension. Robbe explained, “He’s back with Britt.”

“No, he isn’t,” said Noor. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Jana said—”

“Who would know better: Jana, or me?”

Robbe fumbled for something to say in response. Actually, now was a pretty good time to get out, before the topic became any more serious. He said, “He broke up with me.”

“It wasn’t for Britt. She helped him through some stuff, sure, but everyone knows that train’s come and gone.”

“I guess I’m just boring,” Robbe said.

“Bullshit.” Noor picked up her parchment again. She dipped her quill into her ink and began her writing anew, on whatever mess this was. Robbe couldn’t read fucking cursive. “I don’t believe it. Britt says he adored you.”

Robbe didn’t know what to make of that. There was no way he could segue into his next point, which was, of course, that their dating arrangement wasn’t real in the first place, especially after something so honest from Noor. He gave a bullshit excuse, something about chasing the sweets trolley, and got the hell out of there.

***

Robbe said goodbye to Moyo on the train platform. Jens and Aaron lived close enough that their parents parked in the same general vicinity, meaning that they could walk over as a trio. Robbe considered awaiting Sander on the platform as well. Every time he learned something new about Sander’s behavior when he wasn’t there, he got more and more confused. What fake relationship could be convincing enough to have Sander’s ex lamenting its reality?

The boys shared idle gossip on their way to the parking lot. Nothing substantial. Robbe’s head was too full of thoughts, most of them Sander-related. He wasn’t angry, or upset, or tired right now. How did knowing one little thing from Noor make a difference in his overall mood? They split off to their respective parents with casual goodbyes and a promise to write at least once during the holidays.

“Hey,” called Jens, just as Robbe opened the shotgun side.

Robbe turned back, his rucksack swinging off his shoulder. He swiped a hand across his eyes.

“Were you in love with him? Actually?”

They spent two weeks together. Two weeks, plus months and months of pining from afar that couldn’t count for much. It was supposed to last longer. What had Sander said, that day after their date? He wanted it to continue through the holiday break. And now, nothing. Robbe summarized this feeling the only way he knew how: “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

He climbed into his mother’s waiting car, and with that, it was Christmastime at the Ijzermans house.

#sobbe #wtfock #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #hogwarts au #fake dating #fanfiction #sobbe fanfic

13 notes · View notes

avengersassemble-fics · 5 years ago

Text

New Perspective

Modern AU! Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Life seems to be falling apart around you as your husband of three years suddenly reveals an affair, and seeks a divorce. Your perfect life is flipped upside down with his revelation and you have to learn how to be you again. An unforeseen friendship starts to bloom between you and your neighbors new lover, but will these late night rooftop rambles be enough to keep you from going completely batshit crazy in the turmoil of your life?

part 01/?? “no sunshine”

word count 4.2k

an: hehehehe...... this is vastly different than anything i’ve ever written. lemme know what you think ok :) also this is the song mentioned in the story. its beautiful. please listen to it. this song got me through some wicked times. but it sets the tone for where someones mind is at in this.

The only thing people dreaded more in the morning then running late, missing their bus, or possibly anything that could go wrong that early in the day is the sound of the alarm that rings through your phone. It’s scientifically proven that 53% of people feel absolute dread when the incesstuous beeping that comes out of the tiny device startles them awake. But there are people who wake up before it even starts, already anticipating that god awful sound to start their day. You were one of those people as of late.

Before the sun had risen over the building around you and peeked into your bedroom, you were awake. You honestly couldn’t say if you had fallen asleep or not. Your eyes felt exceptionally dry but that could have been from the crying rather than the lack of sleep. But still, you watched your screen illuminate the room and ring loudly to let you know it was 7 am. You had to drag your hand to cancel it, and laid on your side for a few moments after.

You weren’t ready to “conquer the day”. You wanted it to disappear and you along with it. Unfortunately, life wasn’t as graceful to you as you hoped. Or else none of this would even be happening. You wouldn’t be lying here in the dark having to accept the fact your husband of three years was having strangers come and move all his stuff out. You wouldn’t have to be living with the fact that he wants a divorce and instead wants to be with the woman he cheated on you with. No, life was a piece of shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You pushed yourself up and rubbed at your face to try and get any kind of feeling back into it, or maybe just back into you. You threw the cover off your body to get out of bed, and fixed it right back to where it was perfectly neat. You hovered for a moment, your eyes going over the unslept side of the bed that he used to sleep in. It was perfectly intact, his dent almost completely faded away by now. It broke your heart to look at so you got dressed as fast as you could and went to the living room.

His boxes littered every square inch of the apartment, it was like climbing mountains for you to reach the small kitchen to get some kind of caffeine in you. But when you finally popped that K-Cup into the machine and it made you a steaming hot cup of coffee, you let it warm every inch of your body. By the time you finished the cup of coffee there was a knock on your door, and you knew it was the movers. You placed the empty mug down into the sink and then trampled over a few more lines of boxes before you could throw the door open.

There stood about three men, and one handed you something to sign, and you did. Almost immediately after handing them back the clipboard they came in and got to work. You watch in silence as they take load after load of the boxes around the room, and out the door to the van outside. Each trip makes your heart break a little more, because the room gets more and more empty as they go. He had a lot more possessions than you thought. It was making the apartment look sad and empty. Not like the home it once was.

They went room by room until they made it to the bedroom. All there was in the boxes was his clothes, every last one of them. With each mountain of boxes that left, you saw the last and final one, with your wedding album sticking out the very top one. At least he was taking that with him. Maybe . . . Maybe he would look at it and just remember what you two had.

You watched them load that stack onto a dolly and felt prompted to follow them out. Though they took the elevator and you went for the stairs, you nearly met face to face near the entrance to the building. You trailed after the men and noticed the rain that was pouring outside, and then one of them suddenly stopped in front of you.

“He told us to make sure you held onto this,” the man said, and before you knew it he was shoving the wedding album in your arms. You grabbed it quickly since the man was pushing the dolly out into the rain. Your feet only brought you as far as the threshold, and you leaned against the doorway and watched them quickly back up those last few boxes. You felt your hand shaking before you, and tightened your grip on the album in your arms, watching as they loaded themselves in and drove away with the last remnants of your marriage.

You listened to the patter on the rain on the street as it sunk in for you that that was it. He didn’t want to work on it, he just wanted out. And now he was out. Gone. And you were alone. You peeled yourself off the doorway and took a step back into the building, and closed the door shut. Closed yourself in from the world. With the wedding album in your hand, you walked back up the stairs and to your apartment, letting the door close behind you.

Oh god it was so empty. The walls looked stripped without the photos that once decorated them; you could see the shadows that were once there. The couch that was in the living room looked lonely without the armchair he took with him, but it was so . . . just so barren.

You looked at the time on the microwave. 10:05. God, not even a lot of time passed by. What were you going to do all day? You couldn’t stay here. That was definitely not the answer. You walked back to your room and snatched your phone from the bedside table and dialed the only number you knew by heart (besides his), and it rang a few times. But once you heard the voice on the other end you relaxed your shoulders.

“I was wondering when you were going to call,” Natasha’s voice rang in your ear. You smiled a bit, though you were actively fighting tears back. “Did they leave already?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Yeah they’re gone. Everythings gone.”

“Did he-”

“No,” you cut her off, already knowing her question. “No, he didn't come.”

“Bastard,” she mumbled, and you rubbed your hand on your pants, “Well, Wanda and I were meeting for brunch. Want to meet us?”

“God yes,” you pleaded, already up and grabbing a jacket to wear. “Cafeteria?”

“Always,” Natasha answered and said her goodbyes and you were out the door. As you were locking your apartment you spun around and hit a body.

“Geez, I’m sorry-” you trailed off as you were met with the stare from your neighbor, Sharon.

“No worries,” she moved around you with an awful amount of bags, and seemed to struggle with her keys.

“Do you need help . . .?” You asked and she sighed but nodded her head. You quickly hopped over and grabbed her keys from her fingers, and jimmied her door open, and she was in quicker than you could pull the keys out. As she set her groceries down, she let out an exasperated sigh.

“Thanks,” she said and walked back over to her door.

“Yeah no-” before you could finish her door shut in your face and you blinked a couple times, -problem.”

Sharon and you didn’t necessarily get along, but who really did with their neighbors? She was a lot better than the old tenants who left their garbage out in the hallway. So you couldn’t really complain, right? You didn’t ponder too much about it as you were headed down the stairs and into the rain.

Cafeteria was one of the more bustling restaurants to meet for brunch in Chelsea. Lucky for your girl group, you had another friend who managed it. Getting a taxi in the rain was probably the hardest part of your journey, ignoring your life crisis of course, and luckily you were into the building fast enough that you weren’t completely soaked. You looked over the brunch crowd before spotting your friends and made your way over. Wanda was the first to see you as she sipped away on her mimosa, but let out a hum when you got closer to signal to Natasha, who stood to hug you.

You all exchanged heys as you settled into your chair and pushed your damp jacket off your arms. Natasha leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, and watched you pensively.

“I’m surprised you aren’t weeping buckets of tears in your apartment right now,” Natasha said before leaning back in her chair and sipping on her drink. “Good for you though.”

“I’m so glad I can count on you for support, Nat,” you said, opting for water right now. You felt dehydrated with all the crying you’ve been doing recently . . . Last night . . . In the cab.

“He’s a sack of shit,” Nat said, earning a nod from Wanda. “I know you love him but holy fuck.”

“Nat,” you warned, but it only prompted her to set her drink down and move forward again, pointing at you and Wanda.

“No, don’t “Nat” me, okay. He is a sack of shit, and I can’t believe he’s doing this all because-”

“Nat,” you warned, a little more forceful this time. “Please. I know.”

She grumbled, sitting back in her chair like a pouting child. Wanada raised her brows, having been sipping on her drink during Natasha’s little tyraid.

“While I agree that he’s a sack of shit, I’m glad you came,” she said, placing a hand over yours. “It wouldn’t have been the same.”

“Thanks,” you managed with a forced smile.

“I should’ve known it was you three when they said I had friends needing a table,” Clint’s voice rang from behind. “Never come just to see me.”

Clint was the one running this joint for the last few years, and he was exceptionally good at it. He liked to brag about the fact that the service stayed “spectacular” even with the boost in numbers they were doing every week. Clint was the embodiment of a true business man, maybe that’s why him and Natasha got along so well. Even dressed for the part, he side hugged each woman at the table and saved you for last, engulfing you in his arms like he could protect you from everything in the world.

“Hey,” he murmured while placing a kiss on your head. You swatted him away and Clint chuckled, whacking you with the towel he had placed over his shoulder.

“This is technically coming to see you,” Natasha said, reaching for her menu. “But we might as well eat too while we’re at it.”

“Yeah whatever you freeloaders,” he joked, earning chuckles from everyone but you, the least you could offer was a smile. “Are we wanting our usuals?”

Each woman said yes and handed him their menu, and Clint was gone in a flash. Wanda and Natasha started talking about something you weren’t paying too much attention to, and your mind began to drift to the day your life started to fall to pieces.

Your marriage wasn’t horrible, in fact to you it had been perfect. You two never really fought, and it was as if the honeymoon phase never ended. He brought you flowers all the time, and when you were working he’d manage to sneak into your office and wrap his arms around you from behind. He always took great detail in the little things, and that’s why you were so fucking in love with him. And the sex? That was otherworldly too. He was otherworldly.

He got home a little late that night. Late enough to where you were already cooking dinner, and he came in fairly quietly. You remembered calling out to him but was only met with silence and the echo of his feet to the living room. The lack of response is what made you look over your shoulder at him and see him staring at a picture that was hung on the wall. A picture of the both of you. He held his tie in his fists and looked like he had seen a ghost.

That’s how he told you he had had an affair. In the middle of your home with you mid stir of the pot of food, he blurted it out so casually you could have missed it. Or well maybe not, not something that grand, that devastating.

“Here we go,” Clint’s voice brought you back to reality as he set food down in front of everyone.

Wanda sat up in her chair exceptionally giddy at the food before her, and Natasha had just finished her second mimosa. Clint told everyone to enjoy and was off again to do who knows what. The smell before you was deliciously pungent, and you realized you haven’t had a proper meal in days. Thank god for these people in your life.

“You zoned out there,” Natasha noted in between bitefuls. “You’re not thinking of him again, are you?”

“No, I’m thinking about how scary you look trying to fit all that in your mouth at once,” you joked. Natasha glared at you which only made you smile a bit. “I can’t help it Nat. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Wanda chimed in, motioning around her plate with her fork. “To remind you he’s a sack of shit.”

“Exactly,” Natasha pointed to her friend before looking back at you. “And to get you to come out and forget about all of it.”

She wagged her eyebrow at you and you shook your head. “I don’t think I’m in a partying mood right now.”

“Well when you’re ready, we’ll gladly take you out for a night on the town,” Wanda smiled. “Like the old days.”

Like the old days.

Wanda’s words stuck with you for the rest of the day. You weren’t sure if that’s what made you finally crack with the realization that not only were you about to be divorced, but a whole chapter of your life was pretty much thrown out the goddamn window. Eight years of your life to be exact. Your college years all had traces of him in your memories, then the year you got engaged, and then the three years of marriage. He was all you knew for nearly a decade now. Oh this was officially all fucked.

Another thing that was fucked? Your neighbor. Apparently.

Here you were trying to drown yourself in vodka and sleep, and your neighbor was getting fucked. Literally. Even with the amount of alcohol you consumed and the fact it made your head whirl wasn’t enough to block out the incessant banging next door. You were suddenly very aware of the fact her bedroom lined perfectly up with yours. Uncomfortably aware. You blinked at your ceiling wondering if this is how she felt when your husband and you--

No. You quickly deleted that thought from your mind. No more talk of him.

With that you pushed your blanket off and stumbled out of bed. Wow, you had more than you thought tonight, but the fact only made you giggle humorously. You haven’t been this tipsy since. . . Hm. You couldn’t even remember when. How funny!

You carefully threw on your thin robe, spinning in a circle as you tried to push your arm through the other hole. Once covered you exited your bedroom and walked down the hall to the closed door that led to the roof. You could definitely make it up those stairs. So you padded over to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of vodka you were working on earlier and went towards the door, stumbling over your feet only just a little.

This was one of the reasons you fell in love with this place. The access to the rooftop made your heart fill with something and your husband (should you call him that anymore?) could not talk you out of it. He said, and you quote this very accurately, “Anything for you.”

Haha! What a sack of shit. Just like Nat said.

You pushed the heavy metal door open and were met with the cool evening breeze. The chill sobered you up a bit for you to see the scene before you. As the heavy door shut behind you, you looked over the candles that were still burning and the food left out near your neighbor, Sharon’s, skylight entry. Hm, so that’s what all her groceries were for. Eh, whatever. You practically stumbled over to one of the patio sets and crawled on to an egg like daybed and settled in against the cushions. With your back against the cover you pulled out your phone from the pocket of your robe (thank you sober Y/N) and scrolled through your music.

You hummed and pushed play on one song and tossed the phone beside you, letting the piano melody and horns float through the air. You closed your eyes when the voice started to sing low to you. Just to you.

There’s no sunshine

This impossible year

Only black days, and sky grey

And clouds full of fear, and storms full of sorrow

That won’t disappear

Just typhoons and monsoons this impossible year

There’s no good times, this impossible year

Just a beachfront of bad blood

And a coast that’s unclear

All the guests at the party, they’re so insincere

They just intrude and extrude

This impossible year

There’s no you and me

This impossible year

Only heartache and heartbreak

And gin made of tears

The bitter pill I swallow

The scars souvenir

That tattoo, your last bruise

This impossible year

There’s never air to breathe, there’s never in-betweens

These nightmares always hang on past the dream

There’s no sunshine..

There’s no you and me..

There’s no good times..

This impossible year

You took another hard hit of the bottle and shook your head at the end of the song. The tears that had fallen you were quick to wipe away when the song changed to something more upbeat, but you couldn’t pay attention to the lyrics. Not anymore. There was a sound behind you, it sounded like glass had broken and you blinked to re-evaluate where you were. It didn’t come from the street below, so you carefully crawled to peer around the dome covering your spot, and your eyes landed on a casually dressed man. Definitely not familiar. It looked like he had picked up something from whatever your neighbor had left out, and then he looked up and noticed you.

You met his eyes only for a second before you retreated back under the dome and nestled the bottle of vodka in your lap. You tried to focus on the music playing through your tiny speakers and ignore the approaching footsteps. But- oh god his form came into view. He walked past your place but glanced you over, and then looked over the edge to the street.

“You aren’t planning on jumping, are you?” He asked.

You scoffed, “Nope.”

He turned around and leaned back against the siding of the roof, motioning to the bottle in your hand. “Whatcha got there?”

“None of your business, that’s what,” you practically slurred and took another sip of the alcohol. You didn’t even grimace at the taste before motioning to him with the half full bottle. “Who’re you?”

He watched you in amusement, a smile gracing his face as he took a step off the wall. “I’m Steve. Who’re you?”

“Are you Sharon’s boyfriend?” You asked instead. He was noticeably defensive, throwing his hands up.

“No no no. Nothing like that.” He motioned for a spot near the edge. “Can I join you?”

“Okay, Steve.” You shrugged. Steve took a seat on the edge of the cushions, relaxing his arms on his legs. He watched as you stared blankly at the next building, and took another swig from the bottle.

“Are you the neighbor Sharon was telling me about?” He asked nonchalantly. You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips.

“Oh that’s rich,” you mumbled and shrugged your shoulders. “Guess that’s me.”

“Did you move in recently?” He asked next and you blinked a couple times.

“Wha?”

“When she brought me up, I saw some empty moving boxes outside your door for grabs,” Steve explained and your gaze went back out to the sky. “Figured you must be new here. I just moved from-”

“I’m not new,” you blurted out, and Steve raised a brow at you. “No, no. I’ve been here two years? Maybe? I dunno.”

Steve slowly nodded and you took another sip from the bottle he could assume held vodka in it. “Well then whoever left those out-”

“My husband moved out today,” you mumbled. Steve’s mouth fell closed and watched as you smiled a bit to yourself and swished your bottle around. “Er, well he hasn’t lived here in a month. His stuff moved out today.”

Steve nodded a bit before motioning to the bottle in your hands. “Is that what this is all about?”

“Well,” you laughed a bit to yourself. “Maybe 90% him. 10% you guys keeping me up.”

Steve laughed this time. It was low and hearty, but it shook your position on the cushions. You blinked a bit as your vision struggled to level out. That’s when you saw him move closer and you straightened up a bit when his large hands grabbed the bottle and cap from your hands.

“Alright crazy let’s put the bottle down for a second,” he said, screwing the cap back on. You whimpered a bit reaching back for your bottle and he turned his back to you to close the cap full and put the bottle somewhere out of your reach.

“Hey that’s mine,” you said and Steve turned back to you, grabbing your hands and putting them to your side.

“Yeah I know angel,” he said and you chuckled.

“Angel,” you laughed again. “What the fuck is that?”

“Well you never shared your name,” Steve said as he forced you to sit back against the cushions once more. “So what should I call you?”

You pondered his question. “Mmm . . . (Y/N).”

You offered your hand for him and Steve glanced between you and your hand. You wiggled your fingers a bit at him and he laughed again before taking your hand in his and shaking it, though you felt like your whole arm shook with it.

“You’re drunk (Y/N),” he said while shaking your hand. Once he finally released your hand you sighed, pulling your legs up to your chest.

“I know,” you said and then shrugged your shoulders at him. “I wanted to be.”

Steve nodded. “Y’know a buddy of mine is going through a divorce-”

“Did he want it?” You asked him shortly.

“Well yeah-” Steve started and your face fell.

“I didn’t.”

It was a short and simple statement. The silence that filled the air was awkward and heavy, but Steve rubbed his hands together and nodded his head like he was actually curious to hear you speak.

“Were there problems?”

“I didn’t think so.” You scooted up to the edge and rested your hand on the cushion to steady yourself. “We never fought. He acted like he was completely devoted to me! He was perfect. We were perfect.”

Steve shrugged his shoulders, “Was he being fulfilled-”

“Sex was not a problem,” you cut him off, and ignored the glance of his eyes over you. “We had sex everyday-”

“Everyday?” Steve exclaimed and you nodded your head furiously at him.

“Oh yeah. More than once a day,” you confirmed.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled, one of his hands on his knee and his close hand rested over yours. “What a fucking loser, then.”

“Sack of shit,” you corrected. “We call him a sack of shit.”

Steve threw his arms up in defense. “My bad. What a fucking sack of shit then.”

You both laughed a bit and when silence enveloped you again you took Steve’s appearance in. This stranger was fairly attractive, you couldn’t argue that. He was tall and built like a perfect man. Even his beard looked perfect. You were suddenly reminded of the sounds you heard from your neighbor’s room and his attractiveness went right out the window, as you shot up from your place and swayed a bit. Too fast, too furious. Steve was up and steadied you with his hands on your waist.

“Careful there, angel,” he warned as you regained your composure.

“(Y/N),” you reminded him. Steve smiled and removed his hands from your waist.

“I know,” he said with the same smile on his face. You studied him for a moment before you shook your head and patted his chest.

“Goodbye, Steve,” you said. You stepped around him and made your way back to the door to your apartment. Your hand went to tug on it when Steve spoke again, from the same spot.

“I’ll see you around, angel,” he said. You pulled your door open and looked at him, standing by the patio daybed with a wicked smile on his face. You squinted a bit and finally descended down your private stairs, letting the rooftop door close on Steve and your night.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #captain america #captain america fic #modern au steve #steve rogers fic

227 notes · View notes

xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years ago

Note

Summertime prompts list: 27 or 28 with rami? Please and thank youuu😘

I tried to do both—hope it turned out okay! “Late night talks around a bonfire—confessions (27) —serious musings (28).”

* * * * *

The sun was just setting and for a moment, you looked out at the ocean and let yourself get lost in her expanse, the sound of her surf, and the way the hues of the sky were melding with the hues of her water to become one palette of midnight-blues.

“Earth to Y/N!” your friend said, tugging on your ponytail.

“What? Sorry—I was just thinking.”

“Surprise, surprise. I wanted to know if you were ready for Moscato?”

“Ooo yes! I wanna see if the bottle I bought is any good.”

“The apple?”

“Yeah—how’d you—”

Your friend cut you off by handing you a wine tumbler as they took another sip from their own.

“It’s really good,” they confirmed as you took a drink, relishing in the sweet burst of the wine on your tongue and smiling as a strong flavor of crisp, green apples lingered once you swallowed.

“That’s gonna be dangerous.”

Smiling, you spread out the red and black checkered blanket you brought, ignoring the crumbs of sand that inevitably crept their way over the freshly laid fabric, and plopped down, wiggling your bum to encourage the sand beneath to provide you a more comfortable seat.

You watched as a few of your friends lit the bonfire and before you knew it, the sun had been replaced by the moon, nothing but the big fire’s glow and a few tiki torches left to light up the night.

Buzzed from the wine, the laughter, or maybe just from the ocean herself as she continued to crash on the shore, your eyes widened when a sudden whoop of cheers erupted. Immediately, your eyes met Rami’s. Swallowing thickly, you refilled your tumbler and retreated back to your blanket, wondering what the hell he was doing here.

As Rami made his round of hellos, someone turned on their speaker and music filled the night, loud enough to issue a challenge to the crackling bonfire and to the ocean.

“Come on! Come dance,” your friend pleaded, and you waved them off.

“I need way more booze in my system before I dance.”

Your friend laughed and gave you the middle finger as they headed into the small crowd that had begun dancing on the opposite side of the bonfire.

“Anyone sitting with you?” a deep, familiar voice sounded and you took your time traveling up the owner of that voice’s body before you met his gaze.

Rami looked like . . . Rami.

He was dressed in a pair of slim-fit, green shorts that stopped about two inches above his knee, and a blue or grey lightweight button down, loosely buttoned to show a portion of his chest, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up at his elbows. He was wearing a pair of worn canvas flip-flops, and when you shook your head “no” and he sat down, the smell of his cologne washed over you like a baptism.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Same old,” you shrugged. “I think the more interesting question in this situation is how are you?”

Rami smiled softly, his pretty eyes finally turning away from you and toward the fire.

“Tired.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed, giving you time to take a sip of wine.

“Ready for a drink?”

“I did a little pre-gaming,” he confessed as he shifted just a bit closer to you so he could reach into his back pocket and retrieve a small, silver flask.

“And you drove out here?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Rami laughed as he answered, “Still giving me shit, Y/N? I missed that.”

Rami’s eyes connected with yours and everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing back—the good, the bad, and the neverwas. Those feelings sloshed around in your gut like the sweet, summer wine you had been drinking, and when you finally broke free from his gaze, you took a shaky breath as you realized you felt like you were on fire, your skin set to melt at any second.

“Rami fuckin’ Malek! How are you? And where the fuck’s Sami?”

As Rami reached out to clasp his old friend’s hand, you shot off the blanket and escaped what you thought was the heat of the bonfire. As you brushed the remnants of some sand off the backs of your thighs, you walked down the beach until you were out of the light and immersed in shadow.

The Rami sitting around tonight’s bonfire no longer led the same life as the Rami from a few years ago who had shown up on your doorstep, grinning like a madman to tell you he landed the lead of a TV show. This Rami—this Rami was an international movie star.

He wasn’t the same man . . . was he?

As you made your way back to the bonfire, you shook off your thoughts and were nearly free of Rami’s intrusion until he was suddenly there, right in front of you, holding out your cup.

“You left this—thought you might want it.”

“Thanks, Ram,” you said, reaching for the tumbler and as you took it from Rami’s grip, his fingers brushed yours and when that old surge of electricity shivered through your skin, you knew you were fucked.

“Wanna, uh, toast with me?” he asked, his eyes flicking up from the way they had been watching your lips move when you thanked him.

Shaking your head and unable to hide your smile, you said, “Sure—but you better have something good to say.”

“Still giving me shit.”

You laughed and kicked some sand over his toes. “Shut up and toast already.”

Rami took a deep, dramatic breath and said, “To the possibility of tomorrow. Or tonight. To the possibility of possibility.”

You giggled and raised your glass, and he clicked his own tumbler that someone must have handed off to him with yours.

“That was a terrible toast.”

Rami swallowed his wine and grinned closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping you up in a strong hug.

Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were assaulted by memories of friendship, and your sometimes more than friendship, the memories crashing like the dimmed din of the ocean until you just let yourself go, let yourself get swept out to the sea that had always been Rami. Rami fucking Malek.

“I missed your smartass mouth,” he said as he kissed your jaw near your ear and released you from his grip.

“I missed how expensive you smell.”

“You used to tell me that when I was buyin’ shit that was like 30 bucks a bottle.”

“It’s just the magic of you, I guess,” you grinned as you reached up and tweaked his chin.

“I’m not magic—I’m not even sure what the fuck I am anymore,” Rami said through a smile, his eyes containing more seriousness than you were prepared for.

“Oh, now that’s deep,” you said, your brows furrowing with slight concern, but your voice still holding a teasing lilt. “Don’t go all tortured artist on me now. Surely you didn’t come out tonight to muse about your life?”

Rami was quiet for a moment, taking a sip from his cup before he said, “I came out to see you.”

You groaned and closed your eyes for a second before replying, “Scratch that, Alex. I’ll take Tortured Artist for 300.”

Rami laughed quietly, “I meant it when I said—”

“Rami?! Dude! Thought you were Sam! How the fuck they hangin, man?”

Saved again, you returned to the comfort of your blanket, but pulled it away from the fire and out of the light of one of the tiki torches. You flopped down onto your back, your heels dug comfortably into the sand as you enjoyed the cool breeze that wafted up from the ocean instead of the intense heat of the bonfire.

“Rami’s here!” your best friend announced as she landed next to you, flecks of sand pinging against your arm.

“I know.”

“You talked to him?”

“He talked to me.”

“He talked to you?”

You chuckled. “Yes, sweet drunk. He talked to me. Said he missed me.”

Your best friend launched herself half on top of you, her eyes looking ginormous as they peered into yours, the wine from her breath wafting over your face as she faux whispered, “Oh my fucking GOD.”

You reached up, laughing, and squished her cheeks as you said, “I KNOW!”

“Tell him. Tell him how you feeooph—"

“Finish that sentence and I’m garnishing my wine glass with your lips.”

She licked your fingers and you released her as she countered, “S’not a glass. It’s plastic.

You looked at each other and laughed, her rolling away to lay on her back next to you again for all of 30 seconds before another song came on that she liked.

In a stumbling flash, she was up and gone and your field of vision was once again unimpaired as you looked up at the night sky.

“Tryin’ to hide from me?” Rami asked as he sat down.

“You found me, so I’m not doing a very good job.”

Without looking, you could tell that Rami’s face fell by his tone when he said, “I’m sorry. I have no right to impose myself on you.”

Before he could get up, you reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t go.”

“You sure?”

You looked over at him and gave him a sweet smile.

“I’m sure. Besides, one of our pals is sure to interrupt us.”

Rami snorted, “Yeah. Lookin’ for Sami.”

“By the way, where is he?”

“Not you too,” Rami groaned as he laid on his back, mimicking your position with his knees bent and heels dug into the sand.

“Fine. Don’t answer. Shall we just dive right into your existential crisis?”

“I hate you,” Rami deadpanned.

“You brought it up by saying what the fuck even is my life earlier . . .”

“Sami is out with his new girlfriend. Didn’t bring her because she doesn’t like the beach.”

You sat up on your elbows and looked over at Rami. His eyes were closed, his wine cup nestled into the sand near his hand.

“She doesn’t like . . . the beach? That’ll last,” you finished with a snort.

He chuckled. “Haven’t met her yet, but I’m not feelin’ her. I think he’s still hung up on Annalise.”

“Who is here tonight, loving the beach . . . and that Pauly-D lookin’ guy she brought.”

“I texted him that as soon as I got here.”

“Snitch.”

Rami opened his eyes and twisted his head to look up at you.

“What? You’ve always been a snitch. And the two of you have always had the worst taste in women.”

Now Rami sat straight up and turned to face you, his face now hidden in shadow thanks to your distance from the fire. However, people seemed to have forgotten about you, so it didn’t look like you were going to be interrupted again.

“Like you’ve had better luck.”

“Keepin’ tabs on me?”

Rami shifted and you were able to see his face again, his eyes lit up with his desire to tease you.

“And if I am?”

“I’d really love to know why.”

Rami bit his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it.

“I’d rather show you why.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you looked over at him, the night suddenly too hot again despite your distance from the bonfire.

His eyes held yours, more effective than any venom that could cause paralysis.

Your tongue wet your lips, seemingly of its own accord, and that was all the invitation Rami needed before he leaned over and kissed you, his warm hand sliding around the back of your head.

His lips were a little chapped, but when your tongue met the warm, wet, softness of his, desire replaced every conflicting emotion that had run amok in your mind that evening.

You pulled Rami closer as you laid flat on your back and he shifted, his body half covering yours as he explored your mouth.

When the kiss ended, you knew things would never be the same between you again. This was it—this was the moment when your relationship chose a side. No more straddling. No more giving, then taking back.

“Rami. I—”

“Shh. Just listen,” he interrupted, leaning up on his arm so he could look down at you. “No matter what happens to me, my first instinct is to talk to you. I just wanna hear your voice. I find myself living with you in my mind as this eternal figure of response. I always wonder what you would think about something. And I think that’s what’s happened in my past relationships—no matter who I’m with, the only voice I wanna hear is yours.”

You searched his face and were overwhelmed by the vulnerability you found written on it after his confession. For this single moment, you held the power to accept him or to reject him.

“Thank god you’ve finally pulled your head out of your ass to realize that what’s best for you has been right in front of your stupidcute nose this entire time.”

“In front of my stupidcute nose, huh?” Rami said, his face transformed by your acceptance.

“Yeah. I said it.”

“Wanna get out of here? Go someplace and talk?”

“I do,” you answered. “But first I really wanna make out with you.”

Rami laughed, a deep rumbling that sounded low in his throat and chest.

“Whatever you want, Y/N. I’m gonna do my fucking best to make sure you have it.”

Grinning, you pulled him into a kiss.

#rami malek #rami malek x reader #implied female reader but it's not specific #rami malek fluff #fluff #summertime fluff

87 notes · View notes

dhwty-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Zutara Week Day 1 - Reunion

It’s Zutara Week again babeyyyy! I am so excited for this, prepare to see nothing else of me for the next week. Thanks so much @zutaraweek for this year’s prompts, they are amazing! I haven’t got everything written yet and I hope that I manage to get through it this year instead of chickening out like last year. Anyways, those of you who have already read my 2k18 Zutara Week and my 2k19 attempt will know that I always connect the prompts to one coherent story. And wouldn’t you believe it, this year they’re even in the right order!

But now enough of that, here’s what you’re all here for:

Read on AO3

There was a revolution going on and it wasn't Zuko's fault.

It had started about three months ago on one of the outer islands where the scars still ran deep and the power of the Fire Lord was weak. Zuko could understand it. At least he thought he could because peace was hard earned and harder kept and setbacks were frustrating. There were a lot of setbacks.

When they had won the war one decade ago, they had been full of childish naivete. Because at one point they had truly believed that defeating Azula and Ozai would mean an end to all hostilities. At one point they had truly believed that these two battles would end the war. It had been childish. It had been naive. They had been children.

Ten years, however, were a very long time. A very long time for children to grow up. A very long time for trauma to subside. A very long time to be sitting in an opulent war room again arguing with the same people about the same questions because it was always the same people. Time changed but war didn't.

The problem was that the island was small and close to the Earth Kingdom and there hadn't been much to do besides build factories and build weapons. So, many people had lost their jobs when the war ended. More people had lost everything when the Earth Kingdom had come in demanding reparations taking everything in sight. Most people had lost all hope when the Fire Lord sat idly by because there wasn't much he could do. And now there was hunger and sickness and poverty and Zuko couldn't do anything because his whole country was hungry and sick and poor.

The problem was, that he couldn't be everywhere at once. He had a palace and a throne in Caldera and honestly one island was a lot of responsibility for one person, not to speak of several dozen. That was the reason he had governors on every island. The problem was, some of them weren't very good. This one, Governor Yozin, wasn't very good at all. He was old and grey and fidgeting with the seam of his robes whenever Zuko so much as glanced in his direction. He was no leader. Zuko knew he had to replace him as soon as possible.

He had wanted to as soon as he arrived but he'd been heavily advised against doing so. Ten years ago, he'd done it anyways. Now he had grown a lot and learned even more so he knew that would be a bad move. He'd just wait a few months, shower him with honours and then offer him to retire on Ember Island of something. That always worked.

But right now, he had to deal with him and the cacophony of missteps that had led to the uprising in the first place. After the war the people who had returned had mostly been soldiers and child- and partnerless colonisers with only a little fight left in them - the war had wrung the Fire Nation dry, too. Those who had stayed in the colonies had been allowed to do so on grounds of happy marriages that resulted in children. And no child should be forced to leave their home for the wrongs of their ancestors - the Avatar and his global political leader and war hero friends had been quite adamant on that point.

Now however, the fighting spirit had returned fuelled by nearly a decade of deprivation and hopelessness. And it had returned with violence.

So, he was sat in the war room with the fool of a governor and his two oldest children who weren't very pleased of his arrival - no-one liked it when the Fire Lord showed up to take local politics into his own hand. There were other people, too, his own advisers who didn't like him much more than the governor sitting across from him.

And the worst part was the insufferable silence. He had attempted small talk at least, trying to remember what Sokka had drilled into his head about it, but Agni help him he hated those jokes, too, so he hadn't been too surprised by the icy silence the officials spared him.

"So," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "What exactly are we waiting for?" He knew the Avatar wasn't coming. He had tried to convince Aang - he really had - and he had promised to come but there was some spirit-related crisis somewhere on the other side of the world so that could take some time. He did, however, say that he would send someone from the old Team Avatar as form of authority. He really hoped for Suki. Or Sokka. Katara and Toph weren't exactly known for their diplomacy when their perception of justice was concerned.

"The rebels' leader," Yozin answered. "She agreed to come talk to us."

He nodded with a stony face resisting the urge to chew his advisers out. The rebels' leader? No-one had told him about that! But for the moment a displeased look with eyes that spit fire had to suffice - and it surely was enough to have his advisers sweating. "She's taking her time," he noted.

"She will come. We promised to hear her out."

Zuko repressed a sigh and went back to waiting.

He didn't know how long he had waited exactly when the doors opened and a woman stepped inside. No-one rose to greet her but that was really only because Zuko didn't recognise her for an embarrassingly long time.

The woman standing in front of him was tall and slender, her long curls tumbling freely down her back. She was wearing blue because of course she was, a short-sleeved tunic rimmed with fur and a long skirt with slits up to her hips over tight pants and boots. He counted four waterskins strapped to her broad belt and he gulped. The expression on her face was familiar and strange at the same time. It belonged to another time. A time of war that had ended ten years ago he never hoped to see again.

And yet, there it was and there she was of all people. "Katara!" he blurted out completely undignified before he could stop himself.

She turned to him slowly and there was only the tiniest gleam in her eyes as proof that she recognised him as anything other than the Fire Lord. "Hello, Zuko," she said with a voice that made the blood freeze in his veins, "nice of you to show up."

His expression froze on his face, mirroring her own. "Out," he ordered curtly. "Everyone." He heard the displeased grumbling of his advisers behind him shuffling uncomfortably where they knelt. "I won't repeat myself." That finally got them moving. "Not you!" He barked at the governor. This was his mess. He would solve it, too.

When the door shut behind them Zuko took a deep breath. For want of better ideas a deep breath was always a sound choice. Then he turned to Katara, his enemy, his friend, his saviour whom he hadn't seen for four years. "So, you are the leader of the rebellion," he stated calmly.

"I am their spokesperson. No more and no less."

He nodded grimly. "Your demands, Master Katara."

"Your majesty," the governor piped up, "I am not sure this is the right way to go about this situation."

"You agreed to her presence, now you will listen to her point of view. Please, Master Katara."

Without missing a beat, she started speaking: "We demand the immediate delivery of food, drinking water and medicine to end the prevalent crisis that threatens the livelihood of law-abiding Fire Nation citizens. We also demand a plan to be set up in order to solve the humanitarian crisis and rid the island of its economic emergency. Furthermore, we demand an end to the institutional violence executed by the brutal regime that is the Fire Nation legal code. And lastly, the removal of Governor Yozin from any position of power for incapacity. Permanently."

Zuko suppressed a sigh. That was just common sense. Still it was probably more than he could allow.

The governor's indignant gasp was proof enough for that. "This is unacceptable! I will never agree to such conditions."

"That is no longer your choice alone. Your incompetence to solve this crisis in a reasonable time frame proved this." He fixed him with a glare. "Your position, governor."

"There will be no allowances at all until the violence stops. The rebels were the first aggressors." He pointed at Katara. "She was the first aggressor! A rebel and a foreigner at that!"

"I will be the judge of that once I have heard several reports. Carry on. I want to get this over with."

"Once the violence stops and the rebels are brought to justice, I will gladly provide an economic plan. The rest of the demands lies outside of my power."

"Luckily, they are not outside of mine. I will have to think about them. You may leave now," Zuko told the governor who scurried to his feet in order to escape the tense situation. Once the door shut behind him the tension left Zuko's body and he sighed. "What in the name of all spirits, Katara?"

She chewed on her lip, still very silent. It was disturbing, really. The expression on her face didn't waver for even a moment.

He shook his head. She'd always been stubborn. "Can I at least tempt you for dinner? You look awful." She looked as if she wanted to retort something incredible clever so he quickly interrupted her: "I brought my own supplies. They're getting distributed as we speak."

She took a deep breath, then she fixed her eyes on his. "It would be my pleasure."

#zutara #zuko #katara #atla #atla fanfic #My writing #zutara week 2020 #day 1: reunion #zutara week #zutaraweek

54 notes · View notes

440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

The Other Guys

Pairing: Dean x Reader

You spent the weekend at Jody's catching up with Donna, Charlie, Jody and Eileen on a "Girls Only Weekend" in Sioux Falls. Facials and manicures were done, and the girls helped you put some golden highlights in your light chestnut hair. "I'm telling ya, girlie, if this doesn't turn Dean's head, nothing will," Donna remarked.

"Oh come on, Donna, let's get real, shall we? I'd have to change a hell of a lot more than my hair for Dean to notice me," you stated. "Besides, he's so wrapped up in the current crisis with Chuck, I doubt he sees anything but that. Let alone realize if something about me had changed," you replied softly. "But, enough about that, anyone hungry?" you said, desperate to change the subject.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your friends knew about your crush on the elder Winchester, and you think even Sam and possibly Castiel suspected something. Only the object of your affection seemed oblivious to this fact, and that's probably how it was meant to be. At least that what you told yourself to spare your heart the hurt every time he brought home a girl from the bar.

Each time you saw a girl leaving Dean's room in the morning, you pushed your feelings for him down a little farther. Then you grabbed your earbuds and headed to the bunker's gym for a morning workout. Sam was usually in there as well, doing some strength training after his run. Your workout mainly consisted of taking your frustrations out on the punching bag until you could punch and kick no more. Then you showered, got dressed and went about the business of saving people and hunting things.

Then it happened one morning, about a week before your "Girls Only Weekend". You exited your room at the same time as a busty blonde was leaving Dean's room. She had pulled him in for one last kiss and as she left up the stairs, Dean turned to you, winked then closed his door. That was the last straw. When Sam walked in, you were in the middle of one of your most intense workouts in quite some time. A fact which did not escape Sam's notice.

"Now, who or what are you fighting by taking it out on that poor punching bag?" he chuckled. You continued with your routine and ignored Sam's comment. "Whoa, you must really be pissed if you won't even talk to me," Sam observed.

"Stupid"--(punch)--"smug"--(punch/kick/punch)--"idiot"--(punch/punch/kick/punch)--"MALE"--(punch/punch/kick/kick/punch)--"YOUR BROTHER!" you yelled. You then sent a flurry of punches and kicks to the bag before finally dropping to your knees in exhaustion. Sam came over to sit beside you and rubbed your back to calm you down. "So, what did Dean do this time?" he asked.

You paused to collect your thoughts and to catch your breath. "I saw her. The chick from last night, as she was leaving his room. I'm used to seeing it, but this time? After she grabbed his shirt for one last kiss, she left. He saw me, winked and went back into his room. Then I came down here," you finished.

Sam shook his head in annoyance at how clueless Dean could be sometimes. He knew you had feelings for his older brother, but that you hadn't confessed them yet.

A heartbroken sob escaped your throat, followed by silent tears of frustration. "Why doesn't he want me, Sam?" you asked quietly. "On second thought, never mind. I shouldn't ask questions to which I don't want to know the answer," you remarked. Before Sam could respond, you jumped to your feet and ran out of the gym to shower and get ready for the day, just like you usually did.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You returned home from Sioux Falls in time to see Sam and Dean in preparation for leaving on a mission. When you reached the library, Sam noticed you had returned. "Oh, hey! Nice to see you back. Did you have a good time?" he asked.

"Yep, it was good to get away from here for a while, but it's also nice to be home. You guys headed out?" you inquired.

"We got a lead on something that may help us in the fight against Chuck, so we're going to check it out," Sam answered.

"Hang on, I'll go swap out my dirty clothes for some clean ones so that I can go with you guys," you replied.

Dean entered the library and heard you ask for them to wait for you. "Nope, we're almost ready to go, we can't wait for you. Besides, we need you to stay behind and entertain our 'guests'," he explained.

"What are you talking about, 'guests', and since when did I get demoted to the hostess around here?" you retorted. "I am a hunter, Dean, and I don't think it's fair I should be left behind," you finished.

"Listen, Princess, you just spent the weekend sitting around with the girls. Gossiping and doing whatever else you girls do when you get together. Meanwhile, Sam and I have been trying to figure out a way to, oh I don't know, SAVE THE FREAKIN' WORLD FROM CHUCK," Dean thundered.

You looked at him in shock, because you couldn't believe he was saying. He practically escorted you to the car so you'd go on this weekend to Jody's, saying you needed some time off. Now he's going to throw that back in your face and use it against you? "You're an ass," you spat out. You grabbed your bag, threw it in your room then slammed your door.

"Dude, what the hell? You told her to go to Jody's, almost had to push her out the door. She was going to stay home instead and research to help with the Chuck situation. Now you use it against her?" Sam snapped.

Dean gave his brother a hard look. "Let's go, Sam. We're burning daylight," he retorted.

"Be right there, Dean," Sam said as he walked down the hall to your door. He knocked but didn't hear an answer, so he tried the knob but it was locked.

"Go away, whoever is at my door. I don't want to talk to anyone right now," you yelled.

"It's me, Sam. I wanted to say goodbye before heading out," he said.

You unlocked the door and opened it enough to see that it indeed was Sam standing at your door. "Goodbye, Sam," you said then tried to close the door again, but he wouldn't let you.

"About these guests, they're our counterparts from another Earth. Chuck destroyed their world, but they got out before getting killed. We won't be gone long, we just need to keep them out of trouble and off of Chuck's radar until we get back," Sam explained. "Hey, did you do something to your hair at Jody's this weekend? Looks nice," he commented.

You smoothed your hand over your hair. "Thanks. Yeah, someone--Donna, I think--convinced me I should put some golden highlights in my hair to catch Dean's attention. I'll have to call and tell her it didn't work," you muttered.

"Hey, I'm sorry that he acted that way to you, it was uncalled for," he remarked.

"Thank you, but you don't need to apologize for your brother. He should do that himself, but I'm not going to hold my breath. I've decided that I'm done trying to get him to notice anything about me. Whether I change my appearance, or how I'm feeling, if I'm happy or upset or whatever. I know he'll never see me as more than a friend anyway. Doesn't matter, though, because he'll always hold my heart," you broke off. "You'd better get going. Dean's waiting, and you know how he doesn't like to wait," you reminded Sam, smiling through your tears.

You pushed Sam away from the door, then he took your hand and pulled you out of your room and into a hug. "Take care. We'll be back soon," he said. As you broke apart, you patted Sam's shoulder and sent him on his way.

Little did either of you know, Dean overheard your entire conversation. He had gone back to his room for his phone charger and listened in as you poured your heart out to Sam. He didn't realize you felt this way about him, and started to ask himself about his own feelings.

Dean thought about the times he brought a girl home from the bar, and remembered following you one of those mornings after. He saw you in the gym in your workout gear with your earbuds in, punching and kicking the hell out of the bag. The way you were attacking it made him wonder which of whose body parts you were intent on destroying that day. If his being with other women bothered you, he wondered why you never told him.

When he got back to the garage, he noticed Sam was already in the passenger seat, ready to go. "Dean, I thought you were in the car, waiting on me, what happened?" Sam asked.

"Went back to my room for my phone charger," Dean muttered as the Impala's engine roared to life. Sam shrugged and settled in for the road trip.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You put your earbuds in, unpacked your bag and took a load of laundry to be washed. You looked at your watch and noticed it was late afternoon. You hadn't eaten anything since breakfast at Jody's, so you wandered into the kitchen for a snack. As you passed through the War Room, you saw two men who certainly looked like Sam and Dean. These must be the "guests" that I'm supposed to keep off of Chuck's radar, you muttered to yourself.

Both men were wearing flannel, blue jeans and boots. They both looked a little uncomfortable about it, but Alt!Sam looked the least comfortable of the two.

"I can't believe they suggested that I do anything remotely as drastic as cutting my hair," Alt!Sam muttered.

You chuckled softly, which alerted them to your presence, so you introduced yourself. Alt!Sam nodded in your direction and raised his teacup in salute.

On the other hand, Alt!Dean looked like he'd seen a ghost. He had his feet propped up on the table, and the laptop resting on his thighs. He followed you with his eyes as you made your way out of the War Room. Alt!Dean scrambled out of his chair, nearly dropping the laptop on the floor, and rushed to get a better look at you.

Your search of the fridge turned up empty, and the pantry's offerings were slim at best. You found some peanut butter and took out two slices of bread from the wrapper. As you moved throughout the kitchen, you were half-humming/half-singing the tune in your ears. Your hips swayed in time with the music as you spread the peanut butter on the bread. You didn't realize that Alt!Dean was watching your every move until you looked up. It caused you to drop the knife with a clatter.

Clutching your hand to your chest to slow your hammering heartbeat, you pulled the earbuds out of your ears. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Alt!Dean said gently, holding up his hands in surrender.

"That's all right, I was catching a quick snack. I didn't realize it had been so long since I'd last eaten something," you smiled. "Is there something I can help you with? I can make you a sandwich too, if you want, or did you need something else?" You realized you were rambling a bit.

"Oh, no, I don't want to trouble you," Alt!Dean quickly answered.

The silence between you was broken by the sound of a growling stomach, and it wasn't yours. You looked at each other and grinned. "Here, please have this. I'll make myself another," you said as you pushed your plate towards Alt!Dean.

As you prepared another sandwich, Alt!Dean dug into the one you gave him. After the first bite, though, he paused and looked at you. "You are so much like her, you know. Your eyes, hair, voice. Your kindness, generosity, your gentle, caring nature. The way you sing in the kitchen," he chuckled. "My brother and I are nothing like our counterparts from this universe. But you....the resemblance is remarkable," he commented.

"She was your girlfriend?" you asked cautiously as you continued to make your sandwich.

"My wife. We'd been married for five years when I lost her in a hunting accident. Vampire," he explained. "It's been three years since I last saw her smile, heard her voice or her laughter. Since I held her hand," Alt!Dean whispered. He reached for your hand, but you withdrew it out of nervousness. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable," he said quickly.

You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him. "I'm the one who should apologize. I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone you love the way you obviously loved her. It's just....my relationship with the Dean from this world is complicated at best. He definitely doesn't see me in that way. He mainly sees me as a friend, if he even sees me at all," you murmured, dropping your gaze to the floor.

Alt!Dean walked over and stood directly in front of you. He hooked his index finger under your chin and tilted it up to see tears streaming from your eyes. He gently wiped them away with his thumbs as he cupped your cheek. "If I had you, I'd never let you go. I would make sure you knew each and every day how much you were loved and cherished," he replied.

He inched forward until your lips were almost touching. At the last second, you dropped your gaze again. "I....can't. As often as I've imagined this, and as much as I may want this, I would want it with 'my' Dean. The one from this universe," you added with a small smile.

Alt!Dean returned your smile. "I understand. Thank you for being honest with me. Something else you have in common," he winked and tapped the end of your nose.

"I have an idea, and it'll take care of two things at once. Let's go into town and get some groceries. I was only gone over the weekend, but my boys managed to run this place out of food. Come on!" you urged, taking Alt!Dean's hand and going back to the War Room where you'd left Alt!Sam. At first, Alt!Sam rolled his eyes, as if grocery shopping was beneath him, but when you promised to make Fettuccine Alfredo, he changed his tune.

Soon, the three of you were in your 1968 Chevy Nova, rambling down the highway into town. You recently installed a new stereo with a CD player in your car. You knew that Dean hated it, because it wasn't keeping in line with such a classic car. However, it was your car, and since the driver picks the music, you had a CD player.

Alt!Sam was sitting in the shotgun seat, so you asked him to pull out your collection of CDs. "Now, normally, the person sitting shotgun doesn't get to decide what music we listen to. Since you're the guest, I'll let you choose," you said to Alt!Sam.

He unzipped the case and flipped through your choices. "Seems to be a lot of classic rock in here," Alt!Sam grumbled. "Like someone else I know," giving his brother in the back seat a sly grin.

"Samuel, face it. She obviously has good taste in music," Alt!Dean chuckled.

Alt!Sam chuckled as he continued to look through your CDs. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he gasped in surprise. He slid the CD out of its pocket and placed it in the slot. A satisfied smirk played on his lips as he folded his arms across his chest, waiting for the first song to play.

Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want So tell me what you want, what you really, really want I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want So tell me what you want, what you really, really want I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah

You couldn't stop the smile that broke out over your face as you started to sing along with the lyrics. As the car rolled down the road towards town, even Alt!Dean found at least one song to jam out to on the CD.

At the store, you picked up enough provisions to make spaghetti, Fettuccine Alfredo, chili and meat loaf. You also made sure to get a bag of apples to make a pie at a later date.

Back at the bunker, the boys helped you bring in the groceries. While they put things away, you got started on dinner by boiling the water for the pasta. You pulled out your special Alfredo sauce recipe and got to work on it while waiting for the water to boil.

Less than an hour later, dinner was served, and the boys were impressed with your culinary skills. While you ate, you shared stories and told jokes. It had been a while since you'd been able to relax like this, to not be consumed with preventing the end of the world. All of it came to an abrupt end when you heard the massive bunker door open and close. Heavy boots coming down the stairs signaled the return of the Winchesters from your world, along with Castiel and Jack.

Dean was the first to enter the dining room and witness your makeshift dinner party. "What the hell is all of this? I asked you to keep a low profile, not throw a party," he grumbled.

You stood up from your chair. "This is not a party, Dean. This is dinner. Somehow, over the weekend, you, Sam and Jack managed to nearly empty the pantry and the fridge," you started. "We went into town, got some supplies and I made dinner. Simple as that," you replied.

"Do you know how dangerous that was, for them to leave the bunker? This place is warded for a reason, to provide protection! Their world was already destroyed, and they barely got out with their lives. What, did you want Chuck to find them and finish the job?" Dean thundered.

You turned to Alt!Sam and Alt!Dean. "Gentlemen, it's been an honor to get to know you. I enjoyed the time we spent together, and I know I'll never forget you. I hope that you find happiness wherever you may go," you remarked softly. You gave each of them a peck on the cheek and turned to leave the dining room.

"Hold on there, I'm not finished talking with you," Dean said as he grabbed your arm.

You looked Dean straight in his eyes. "You may not be done talking with me, but for the foreseeable future, I'm done talking with you. Let go of my arm," you glared.

Something in your tone must have broken through because Dean released your arm. You entered your room and everyone jumped at the sound of your slamming door.

Sam and Dean walked their counterparts to the spiral staircase and handed them a set of keys. Dean told them which car the keys went with and bid them farewell.

Alt!Dean turned to face the scruffier hunter. "I know you and I don't have much in common. We're pretty much opposites of each other. But she is so much like my wife was, in every way. At first, it was difficult being around her, knowing it wasn't really my wife. Spending time with her, though, made me miss my wife just a little bit less. I lost her in a hunting accident, and there's nothing I wouldn't give to spend even one more second with her.

"Your girl is right here, right now. Don't lose her on purpose by taking her for granted," Alt!Dean finished before he followed his brother up the stairs.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean poured himself a glass of whiskey and propped his feet up on the table in the library. He thought about what Alt!Dean said, about you helping him a bit to get over the loss of his wife. You'd only met them that day. Yet, you helped him to get through a little of the unimaginable pain of losing a love partner. Even Alt!Sam seemed to have loosened up a bit since Dean had first met him, although he didn't get rid of the man-bun.

He thought back to when Jody asked you to visit her for the weekend. At first, you told him and Sam that given the current state of the world, you weren't going to go. You had wanted to stay behind and research the whole time instead of taking time for something fun. You were going to put the job ahead of yourself, like Dean had seen you do so many other times before. How often had you sacrificed your own needs or happiness for that of others? Dean wondered.

Dean recalled the times when Jack wanted to play a game with you or watch cartoons, or take a walk in the woods. Even if you were in the middle of a good book, you dropped it and paid attention to Jack. When Sam needed help with research, you made the time to help him, putting off whatever you were already doing. Or, when he grumbled that someone forgot the pie, you hopped into the kitchen and made one for him.

Then there were the other, more subtle ways you showed how much you cared for your boys. Buying someone his favorite cereal, or making a pie out of the blue. Making sure coffee was ready the moment one of them entered the kitchen. On a cold day, hanging a warm towel fresh from the dryer right outside the shower. Cooking their favorite meals on their birthdays. The list went on and on.

He tilted the crystal tumbler to invite the last of the amber liquid to slide down his throat. As he prepared to pour another, Dean saw you shuffle through the library. You didn't seem to notice his presence, or probably more accurately, you refused to acknowledge it. He saw you briefly wipe your eyes and heard you sniffle from crying.

Dean could hear you in the dining room, gathering the dishes to wash up from the evening meal. Such skilled hands both in and out of the kitchen. He wondered how it would feel to have them slide up his bare chest or for your fingers to comb through his hair. Earlier, when you were telling him off, he couldn't help but notice how your hazel eyes were ablaze with passion. And he longed to capture your lips with his to see if they were as soft and magical as he hoped they were.

It had been a long day, so Dean decided to call it a night. He figured that you would finish the dishes shortly, then you would return to your room for more sleep. He hoped you would be in his nightly dreams, since you were starting to occupy his thoughts during daylight hours.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Sam came back from his morning run to find a pot of coffee had recently been brewed. A towering pile of bacon sat waiting on a platter, and a steaming stack of pancakes were ready to be eaten. The pièce de resistance was a fresh apple pie sitting on the counter.

Dean wandered in to the kitchen nearly half-asleep, wearing his grey robe. As soon as he saw the feast gracing the kitchen counter, he snapped to full consciousness. Coffee, pancakes, bacon and pie. "Oh, man....she didn't. That sweet lovin' woman," he said softly, shaking his head.

"I think we both know who made the pie, but when would she have done it?" Sam wondered.

"Had to have been after she did the dishes last night," Dean replied. He explained last night's events to Sam, how he saw you but you didn't see him. That you must have been crying just before you came out, because you sniffled and were wiping your eyes.

"So, she stayed up late, doing dishes and making pie? Then she got up early and made breakfast?" Sam observed.

"Yeah. Have you seen her yet this morning?" Dean asked.

Jack and Castiel entered the kitchen for breakfast. "I saw her," Jack answered. "She was on her way to the shower. Her eyes were all red and puffy, though," he said, confused. "Is she okay?"

As if on cue, you joined the group gathering in the kitchen. Without a word or glance to anyone, you reached into the cupboard for your favorite cup. You poured yourself some coffee and fixed it the way you liked it. When you looked up, four pairs of eyes were on you. No one knew quite what to expect, given yesterday's events. You gave everyone a quick smile and walked back to your room.

Castiel was the first to speak. "No, Jack. She is not okay. She is upset at everything that happened yesterday after she returned from her weekend at Jody's. She is thinking about how to apologize to Dean and us for putting Alt!Sam and Alt!Dean in danger by taking them to town. The pie is meant to be a peace offering, and she hopes we enjoy the breakfast," Cas finished.

"Well, she didn't have to make breakfast, and I don't believe she has anything to apologize for, either," Sam remarked.

Jack looked at Cas. "How can we make her feel better?" he asked. "She's always so caring and does so much for everyone. I wish she didn't feel sad," Jack replied.

No one saw Dean as he slipped out of the kitchen and walked towards your room. He hesitated before knocking, and put his ear to the door. When he didn't hear anything, he knocked gently and waited for your response.

"Who is it?" you asked.

Dean cleared his throat. "Um, it's me, Dean," he answered.

"Go away, Dean. I already told you, I won't be speaking to you for the foreseeable future," you retorted.

"I know you said that, but will you please just listen? I promise I won't yell at you," he implored.

A minute passed, but it seemed like an eternity to Dean before he heard the door being unlocked. You opened it a crack then stepped out of the way so Dean could enter. You went back to sitting on your bed, with your back resting against your headboard. "So talk," you said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

"Mind if I sit here?" he pointed to the end of your bed. You gestured with your hand to give permission, so he sat on the edge.

"What's on your mind, Dean?" you sighed.

"I wanted to thank you for making breakfast for all of us. And for making the pie. When did you do that?" Dean asked.

"Late last night. I couldn't sleep, so I came out to clean up after dinner. Still wasn't tired, so as quietly as I could, I made the pie," you explained.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" he asked.

"If you must know, I was upset. It hasn't been exactly too friendly around here between you and me lately. First, it's like you're saying that me taking a break left you and Sam to do all the work concerning the Chuck situation. Next, you get upset that I entertained the alternate Sam and Dean by taking them into town to get food. It's like I can't do anything right in your eyes. And sometimes I think--never mind," you broke off.

Dean knew what you were going to say next, but he wanted to hear it from you anyway. "What? What were you going to say?" he asked.

"Never mind, Dean. Just drop it," you warned.

"Hey, you started it, you can't just not tell me now after you say something like that," he replied.

You lifted up your head and stared straight into those emerald eyes of his. "Fine. But be careful what you wish for. You see me as just a friend, if you see me at all," you started. "Let me tell you what I see of you. I see a man who fights tooth and nail for what he believes in. A man who is fiercely loyal to those he loves and would die to protect them. A man who is afraid to get too close to a woman because he thinks it's dangerous. I see a man who is intelligent, kind, witty, and sexy as hell. And I love him," you declared softly.

"Wow," was all he said.

"Yeah," you gave a short laugh. "Bet you're real glad you asked, huh? Well, now that you know, you're free to leave if you want to," you replied. You got up from the bed and walked over to your dresser to put away your recently laundered clothes. You heard Dean get up from the bed as well. You wanted to wait and hear the sound of the door opening and closing behind him before you completely broke down.

But the sound never came. Instead, you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind and give you a gentle squeeze. Dean rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath hot against your ear. You closed your eyes and melted into his embrace, enjoying the moment because you had no idea how long it would last.

"Now what kind of man would I be if I left after hearing such a heartfelt confession of love, hmm?" he asked. "Especially before I've had a chance to tell my side of the story," he started.

Then Dean turned you around in his arms so he could gaze into the honey-and-green of your eyes. "I'll tell you what I see of you. I see a woman who often sacrifices her own needs or happiness for that of others. A woman who has been knocked down so much by life, but she gets back up every time and keeps fighting. A woman that makes an indelible mark on every life she touches, leaving behind a small piece of herself in that person's heart. I see a woman who is strong, caring, smart and beautiful, both in body and in her soul. And I love her," he finished.

Dean's left hand came up and he brushed your face with the back of his fingers. He slowly closed the gap between you as he pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss. Dean pulled back a little to gaze into your hazel eyes before diving back in for another, deeper kiss.

When you finally broke apart, you both were trying to catch your breath with your foreheads touching. You grinned at each other, holding hands with interlaced fingers.

"By the way, I like what you did to your hair," Dean remarked.

"I'm glad you like it," you replied.

#au dean winchester #au dean x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #spn imagines #spn fluff

49 notes · View notes

fuckinuchihas · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do hcs for Team Karasuno finding their s/o crying? Ignore if you don’t want to

Never gonna ignore a request. There might be some I won’t do but I’ll be sure to let you know.

I chose a few of my favorites from team K but if you had someone else in mind or just want me to follow up with more I am 1000% down for that just let me know. Also, if you didn’t see the other post you should know these turned into drabbles more than HCS and I’m sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted. I’m happy to try again anytime!

There is a slight trigger warning for Daichi’s mentions of an elderly relative being sick. (no death, but implied possibility)

Also I might need some more practice with Tsuki to get him right, but I promise to try!

Okay here we go, the rest is under the cut!

Sugawara

Suga is absolutely the type of boyfriend that checks on you multiple times a day. He’s so used to doing it for his first year ‘children’ that he automatically pulls you into the group.

You actually have Tanaka to thank, though you probably won’t...that boy’s head doesn’t need to get any bigger. He must have caught onto your sniffling when he was pulling out a well worn copy of “Cat’s Cradle.” So when Suga shows up at the library out of breath and wearing a worried expression you know exactly what’s happened. Part of you is frustrated at Ryu for not minding his own business, but mostly you’re just grateful to see your gorgeous boyfriend.

“It's fine, it was just a book,” you say, though you still might not be 100% you are feeling much better.

Suga relaxes his shoulders just a bit but pulls you in tightly against his chest. “I know that you love to read and I’m happy about that but I don’t like to see you cry.”

“Well you could always look away,” you tease, the soft scent of his cologne calms you down almost immediately.

“Look away from you? I could never.”

-----------------------------------------------------<3-----------------------------------

Tsukishima

Tsuki can be such an asshole most days, and sarcastic as hell. Honestly, those are some of the things you love most about him but it’s not exactly the kind of characteristics you find helpful in your current situation.

It’s stupid, you know it’s stupid but you can’t feel any less embarrassed or upset about it no matter how hard you try.

Tsuki is not who you call in an emotional crisis, okay? He’s just not. So as much as you hate to do it, you send a text to Tadashi asking him politely to distract your boyfriend until 9 because you know that even Tsuki isn’t rude enough to show up at your house that late.

Tomorrow you’ll be fine, you just need a little time to adjust.

Tadashi seems skeptical but promises to do his best and really, that’s all you can ask for.

Despite his less than chauvinistic traits, Tsuki can be pretty observant, you’re not banking on anything but hopefully the call of volleyball will do the hard work for you.

When your phone flicks over to tell you it’s 9 pm you breathe out a sigh of relief and then just let yourself go. You cry harder than before, trying to push all your feelings out as fast as you can as if that’s going to make everything better again.

It doesn’t.

There’s a knock at your door at nearly ten when you were about half asleep, you think your mother will get it until you remember she has a late shift at the restaurant. You shuffle to the door in your pajamas, looking through the small window to see your boyfriend standing outside soaking wet and wearing a furious expression.

On instinct you jerk the door open wide eyed and in shock as Tsuki presses against you despite his half drowned state.

“Tssukii?” You ask, if it weren’t for the cold damp sinking into your clothes and touching your skin you’d swear it was a dream.

“You weren’t there…” he said, sternly like a father almost.

“Huh?”

“You weren’t there, at practice…”

“Well I don’t always-”

“You go when you say you’ll go and you weren’t there,” he says again, this time slowly emphasizing the words. “I knew something was wrong and then Dashi-Tedashi tried to keep me late. Then Suga wanted to go out for ‘a bite’ and then it was late and I tried to be respectful, I did.”

You’re growing more and more surprised by every word. “But you didn’t respond to my texts and it was raining and I- you weren’t there.” he growls out this time, shaking as he pulls you tighter against him to the point that it’s getting hard to breathe.

“Tsuki, I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to worry you. I was embarrassed...about the other day, and I didn’t know how to face you, or the guys.”

His eyes that had been full of something, heady changed. He relaxed his posture and his hold just a bit before he sighed dramatically. “You have nothing to worry about, it was cute and if anyone dares to say differently…” he paused, his eyes going dark. “They can deal with me.”

-----------------------------------------------------<3-----------------------------------

Diachi: Again Trigger Warning for sick grandfather!

Your boyfriend can be kind of rough on the guys but with you, he is the absolute softest. So when you find yourself unable to hold back the tears you try to keep your distance. He would absolutely comfort you but you don’t want him skipping practice or studying or anything else just because you’re upset.

You will handle this on your own, you think to yourself.

Going to school is out of the question, not only because you literally cannot stop crying, but also because you’re too tired to deal with things and you know you wouldn’t be able to escape him if you were nearby.

Instead you ignore the issue until you notice three missed texts on your phone.

Message from BF: Brought you a gift today, meet me for lunch?

Message from BF: Are you okay? Your classmate said you didn’t show up today.

Message from BF: Do you need me to bring you medicine or soup or...umm, y’know anything else?

You try to smile at the messages and you do because you absolutely adore him, but it doesn’t stop the tears. You text back a short, “I’m fine” before pulling the covers back over your head and trying to sleep your sadness away.

Daichi shows up at your house at 4:23 that afternoon meaning he must have ran the whole way there directly after school was over.

You answer the door with red rimmed eyes and tear tracks on your face and all he can do is engulf you in his arms.

Your surprised, “Practice?” catches him off guard but he quickly responds.

“I don’t know what’s wrong but I’m here...and I’m not going anywhere.”

You finally invite him in and tell him the news about your grandfather’s failing health and before you know it he’s cradled you in his arms again and is petting your head, playing with your hair, and any other methods he can think of to make you relax.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, and you know he means it wholeheartedly.

“What am I gonna do without him?” You ask softly, feeling your heart crack open in your chest.

“I don’t have all the answers but whatever it is, you won’t have to do it alone,” he says, like he’s swearing an oath and for the first time in what feels like hours, your tears gently slow to a stop.

Nothing has changed, your grandfather is still sick but knowing that Daichi has promised to stay by your side, well nothing could make you happier.

#hcs #turned drabbles #haikyuu #karasuno #daichi hcs #sugawara hcs #tsukishima hcs #i'll make a masterlist eventually #masterlist #onlyfortheplot #bless you my friend #hope you guys like it #feel free to ask for anything #check pinned post for fandoms

22 notes · View notes

bebepac · 4 years ago

Text

WIP 08.05.2020

Couldn’t resist using a Five Gif on the 5th for my WIP Wednesday post. I’m actually trying to see what I can do with a TRR/Umbrella Academy crossover. I really want Rumor to be the cause of something crazy to happen in TRR. We’ll see what i can come up with there.

Up first, the one that got all the Drama

The Crisis

Pop’s Place Chapter 8

* still in writing process*

Jason’s fatherly instincts kicked in immediately. He pulled Mia close to him. Jason was trying hard not to cry himself as they quickly wheeled Pop’s stretcher into the hospital as they were frantically working on him.

He gently stroked Mia’s back and hair trying to soothe her. Jason glanced at Liam. His eyes welled with tears. Both the kids were terribly upset.

When Mia composed herself a little more, they walked inside the hospital and were led to a private waiting room. The room made Jason immediately nervous. It was a small room, away from the main waiting rooms, and they were the only people in this room. It looked to him like the kind of room, the hospital used to deliver bad news in. Considering how Pops was brought in, they were probably preparing for the worst case scenario. Jason wasn’t at church often as he should mind you, but in this moment he felt he had to do something.

He looked at Mia, who still had a tight grip on his hand. “Would you like to pray with me?”

Mia nodded, as more tears fell down her cheeks.

Liam could count the number of times he’d ever been to church on one hand. But he nodded as well. Because he would do anything it took to help Pops make it.

Mia reached for Liam’s hand, and they stood in a small circle.

“Heavenly Father, we come to you not for ourselves, but for someone that is extremely close to us. We come to you for Kelvin Jones, Pops. He is a loving Father and Husband, Mentor, and Friend. We ask you to wrap your arms around him and touch his heart and heal it. His work on this earth is not done yet. Heal him Lord, so that he may continue his work here on earth surrounded by all those people he loves and loves him. Please give us this miracle Lord, as our hearts and souls are heavy right now. These things we ask of you, in the name of the Father, the son, and the holy spirit. Amen.”

“Amen,” Liam and Mia said together.

Jason wiped the tears from Mia’s eyes. “I’ll stay with you as long as I can okay?”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* next up *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Time to Say Goodbye

Fast Forward Chapter 14

*still in writing process*

(You may have been wondering what happened to Von after Chapter 9 the Round Table this chapter takes us through that as half of it is right after Liam got home from the hospital post surgery.)

“How is he?” Von asked.

“He’s asleep again. He was awake to eat, and shower, and hug the kids for a little bit. But he fell back asleep.”

“How are you Riley?”

“I’m a mess. He was dead. Liam was dead. And in those moments those minutes I thought he wasn’t coming back, something happened in me. I still love him Von, and we have to try to fix what is damaged about us. And I know in my heart that’s not what you want to hear. I know you came here for me. I knew it when you walked through the door. How you still feel about me, I feel it radiating off you. And I know you feel like you made a mistake when you left me that day in New York. But you didn’t.”

“Yes I did Riley, because I lost you.”

“I don’t think you would be where you are today with your music if I had gone to California with you Von. You wouldn’t have made it.”

“How do you figure?”

“I wouldn’t have waited this long, with so much inconsistency in my life. That part of me is just like my Dad, Von.”

“Yet you came to a foreign country for a man you had spent a night with.”

“My intent was only to spend a week here with him. A week turned into forever because I fell in love with him. I knew he was my forever. When you take vows Von, they’re for better and worse. I’ve hit the worst part. And I have to work through it with Liam, and I want to.”

Riley wiped her tears away.

“You think I’m making a mistake.”

“Yes, one that could end your life or the lives of your children. What if he doesn’t change Riley?!?!?!?! You’re pregnant, you have to think about the baby you’re carrying. Please come back with me.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* next up *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The Crown Visits the South

University Student Ellie Chapter 2

*still in writing process. nearly complete*

Riley went to Triangle Town Center to get Liam a few lighter weight lighter colored outfits. It had been a while since Riley had been at a clothing retailer as all the clothes she owned were tailor made to perfectly fit her body. Riley laughed thinking of her husband still stark naked standing in front of the air conditioning unit. Riley came back to the hotel room to still find Liam naked.

"You know… it's ironic now I am finally seeing you for who you are Liam Rys. When we had that time period where both Adam and Jaiden hated wearing clothes, you insisted they got it from me. That naked time wasn't a thing you did."

Liam sat up. "Because I get it, and this feels so good. Get naked with me Riley."

"I was born in the day Liam Rys not yesterday, and we legit have 45 minutes before dinner. That’s not going to be enough time for us, if I get naked.”

“You’re right my love.” He looked Riley over. “You’re all mine tonight, after we get back from dinner.”

Riley changed clothes, and Liam put on the light weight linen suit Riley had picked up for him. Liam sighed contentedly.

“No flaming balls?” Riley asked

“No flaming balls My Queen.”

They met Chris and Emily for dinner at Sullivan’s Steakhouse.

“You have to try the cheesesteak egg rolls, Riley you will love them.”

“They sound strange and weirdly delicious at the same time. I’m in.”

*^*^*^*^* end of chapter teasers *^*^*^*^*^*

Still in the pipeline: The thoughts are still bubbling on these, as I don’t have anything more concrete on them to do a teaser as of yet or since last week: Life of Riley Chapter 17: Summertime in the NYC , and At Long Last.

Tagging some peeps that might be interested in some teasers and some writers yo peeps what ya’ll up to

@queenjilian @dcbbw @burnsoslow @axwalker @indiacater @cordonianroyalty @glaimtruelovealways @sophie-and-shizuku @kingliam2019 @gabesmommie1130 @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @islandcrow @batgirlassociationofgothamcity @jared2612 @lovablegranny @queenwalton @sanchita012 @mom2000aggie @gkittylove99 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @choicesficwriterscreations @kimmiedoo5

#bebepac writes #fast forward #pops place #University student ellie #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trh fanfic #trh fandom #trr mc x drake #maybe trr mc x liam #trh mc x liam #king liam of cordonia #queen riley #riley brooks #umbrella academy #umbrella academy crossover

23 notes · View notes

danetobelieve · 4 years ago

Text

Game Night || Ariana, Rio, Todd and Winston

When: before the morgue scream, late september :) Who: @letsbenditlikebennett, @itsyaboytodd, @3starsquinn & @danetobelieve Where: Winston & Rio’s house. Summary: who doesn’t love a family game night? Warnings: n/a

Winston pulled the door of their place open. It’s hinges creaking slightly in the nighttime. It had been a nightmare recently and they were always one who would try and take the advice that they would give to their friends and they were sure that they would suggest that their friends keep busy. But all they could think about was how they hadn’t been able to change what had happened to Roland and to Orion and to Blanche. A forced smile cracked across their face that definitely didn’t quite reach their eyes. “Hey, I’m so glad you’re here, come in come in, it’s starting to get cold again and you should come into the warmth for sure.”

Todd didn’t usually read the news, but it had been hard to ignore all the stuff about the police guy who’d died in the fire at the funeral home. It had blown up all over Facebook and the town’s online noticeboard and he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Winston during all of this. That dude had been their boss-- and like, Winston really loved his job. It wasn’t like a shift manager at Friction had quit or anything like that. That guy had died.... That was some legit awful stuff. Which is why he had a case of Natty’s under one arm, his backpack full of games, and his favorite bucket hat on his head. He was gonna make this game night the best they’d had! “Haha, thanks, dude!” He said as he walked inside. Was he a little cold? Yeah. But, shorts and a bro tank were his go-to look and he wasn’t about to let the fall weather come and ruin that for him. “I got us beers! And, I’ve got a whole bunch of games in my bag-- brought my poker set, Cards against Humanity, and,” Todd reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and tossed the yellow sack excitedly in the air. “Bananagrams!”

Going to game night with her friends was the right thing to do. It was what Celeste and Winn would have wanted her to do, but still, Ariana felt as if she was just sort of floating by. Every day, things seemed to be getting darker and darker, including the sky. The way the trees seemed to blow the opposite direction of the wind and how the light seemed to flicker as she walked by painted a surreal picture that mirrored what she was feeling inside. Part of her wanted to return to the comfort of the fluffy blanket she had on her couch and snuggle up to Luna, but she had to move forward. Keep taking the right steps until things started to feel right. Plus, it had been entirely too long since she’d hung out with Winston and Todd and she wasn’t quick to forget she nearly lost Rio and Blanche, too. She’d brought an array of snacks with her since she didn’t have any games besides Dreamsnatcher and she couldn’t buy alcohol. She’d mustered enough energy to make some salsa and guacamole to go with the chips she brought. She didn’t bother knocking as she had a key to let herself in. As she twisted the knob, she took in a deep breath and put on the most convincing smile she could. “Hey guys,” she called out as she entered the house, “I brought snacks!”

It hadn’t been the best couple of weeks. Orion had felt just about tapped out, between the fire and the police officer dying and then Winn so shortly after. For the first time since Rio had left his family’s house, he had actually started to feel that familiar sense of hopelessness he had been so overcome with the last few years. Things had changed. Things had been getting better. Why was it now that things were going so terribly wrong? Just when Rio was starting to feel useful, like he finally had a purpose to help people. Turned out, after Roland and Winn, he had only reinforced the fact that he had been useless after all. But Winston hadn’t been the same since the fire either. Something was wrong, and Rio didn’t know how to fix that either. But maybe tonight could be a start, if they could just find some semblance of normalcy. With Winston’s friend Todd coming and Rio and Ariana finally talking again maybe the four of them could find a way to make things okay again. Even if it was only for a single night. It was a start. So despite how sore his body was, and the healing burn on his hands and neck, Rio plastered a smile onto his face, and jumped up from the couch when he heard them arrive. He scooted into the room where Winston was inviting them in and waved from the end of the hall, “Hey! Thanks for coming!” He couldn’t tell if it sounded genuine or like he was trying too hard, but hoped it was the former, “I really needed this after the fire.”

Todd was always a bright spot in Winston’s life. He seemed to exude vibrance, innocence and happiness. Exactly what Winston needed right now. The truth was of course that as Ariana came in behind him, they could tell that she was struggling just as much as they were. There was something about the fact that her eyes didn’t quite hold the smile that her face did. There was a slowness and forcedness to her reactions. She didn’t seem truly happy but then again who was nowadays? But Winston hadn’t forgotten having to abandon Todd when they were meant to be going to that concert, this was their way of making it up to their friend. “Duuuude!” Winston grinned and hoped it looked genuine, “thanks for bringing the Nattys! Can’t wait to get going on this, everyone come in come in, Rio obviously knows Ari, and so do you Todd, but Rio this is my friend Todd and Todd this is my boyfriend Orion but we all just call him Rio.” Winston held their smile until their back was turned to everyone as they shut the door to their lounge and had a brief moment of respite from the forced looks of elation. “Does anyone want a cold drink, I can put the beers in the freezer so they get cold faster.” Wasn’t Todd cold in a tank top? Winston was already wearing one of their favourite hoodies and they were considering turning the heating up.

“Oh hell yeah, Meg--Ariana!” Todd said with a grin as the girl mentioned snacks. He fucking loved chips and guac. Letting Winston take the beers from him, Todd held out his arms, offering Megan-- Ariana, a respectful side-hug if she wanted it. Just cuz he was a hugger didn’t mean that he was just gonna bear hug her, that wasn’t cool. “How ya been? When Winston told me that you’d be here, I was super hype.” Turning around, Todd looked at the young man who was walking up to him, looking a little hesitant. Ah, nah, that wouldn’t do! This was game night! “Duuuude! Rio! Nice to meet ya, Winston’s told me lots about you!” He said, arms still spread out wide as he offered a big hug. He wasn’t super sure what was going on, but he got the idea that this game night was a long time coming. And he just wanted everyone to have a good time.

There was no denying that she wasn’t the only one here feeling worse for wear, but Ariana couldn’t help but smile at Todd’s enthusiasm. He really did have such an energetic way about him that would normally be more contagious. It was funny, she’d almost forgotten he met her as Megan. With a small laugh, she joked, “Sorry for the name confusion there. One might say I was having a bit of an identity crisis.” She accepted Todd’s hug and felt a little bit better after the fact. Somehow, this was already working a bit and taking her mind off everything. The Natty would probably help even more, but for now, she grabbed some bowls from the kitchen and set up the chips and dips. “I won’t lie to you, I’ve been better, but I’m happy to be here with you guys. I had a lot of fun when Winston brought me to that party you played a few weeks ago,” she answered with her most convincing smile, “How have you been? Still seeing that cougar?” She hated that word, but she lit up a bit when Rio was introduced. “I legit forget his full name is Orion sometimes, but Rio is the best.”

Tonight was going to be nice. It had to be, for all of their sakes. Well maybe not Todd, he seemed to be doing fine actually. That was pretty refreshing, meeting someone so genuinely happy. Todd was obviously an affectionate person, trying to welcome Orion with open arms, literally. Rio accepted the hug, albeit a little more apprehensive than Todd was. His friendliness was contagious, making Rio want to smile despite the situation. That was what the night was for though, right? “It’s nice to meet you too! I’ve uh- heard a lot about you as well. And I guess in a way Winston and I have you to thank for us getting together. It sorta started at some club we went to to see you.” Would either of them ever have made a move if they hadn’t gotten drunk in that club? It was hard to tell. Rio glanced curiously over at Ariana when she mentioned an identity crisis. Rio had no idea what that meant, but he supposed the two hadn’t talked much until Rio had gone to the hospital. He felt a little out of the loop. “Ha. Well, it’s actually sorta weird now when people actually call me Orion. I feel like my parents are the only ones that do it.” Rio shrugged and scratched at the burn on his neck nervously. “But uh- Feel free to drink however much you want tonight! You can sleep here if you need or I can drive you home after.”

Keeping busy was the name of the game. Whether it was with work or with friends or with personal projects. Winston didn’t have time to think about everything that had been going on recently if they kept themselves busy. “You can crash in the spare room or on one of the sofas if you’d prefer dude,” Winston agreed from the kitchen as they sorted snacks into bowls, slid very drinks into fridges and made themselves their own drink. Swallowing half of it in one go, Winston winced. Alcohol didn't’ even really numb anything all that much. But it was harder to think about how fucked up things were at the moment. Looking over to Todd, Winston couldn’t help but smile. How the guy managed to stay so positive throughout was kind of beyond them. “You’ve yet to tell us that much about this girl you are dating,” Winston chimed in their back still turned to the group. They hoped that the emotion hadn’t completely left their voice. They had just been telling people that they were tired but they weren’t sure if anyone actually believed it.

Hugging Megan-Ariana first, then Rio, Todd couldn’t help how overwhelmingly happy he was to be hanging with one of his best buds, his best bud’s boyfriend, and a really dope chick. He hadn’t had a fun game night with the boys-- well, boy, non-binary bro, and a girl-- in a long time and he was hyped for it. “Haha, it’s all good, dude. And hey, no worries. That’s what game night’s for! How are we feeling on games?” He asked as he began to pull out the decks of cards from his bag and set the poker chip set on the table. Looking over at Rio, he grinned, “Oh, you guys came to the club? That’s so dope! Haha, I’m glad that you guys were able to like, connect and stuff! Friction is good for that.” He said with a nod, the innuendo of what he’d said going over his head. Grabbing a Natty, he popped the top and took a long drink before shrugging. “I’m not the kinda guy to kiss and tell,” He laughed and shook his head. He wanted to tell them all about Lydia, how he just… couldn’t get her out of his head. How all his music seemed to be about her. But, now didn’t feel like the right time for him to go all mushy with how much he liked her. “Besides! We’re here to have a good time, not hear about my relationship stuff.”

How Todd maintained his level of unbridled enthusiasm was a mystery to Ariana. Had life just been more kind to him? Was it because he wasn’t caught up in all the supernatural drama of the town? Had death not quite touched him like it had the rest of them? If it had, she certainly couldn’t see it. Tragedy struck her too young to be familiar in the ways of blind optimism, but she always persevered, right? She found little moments worth pushing forward for, like these. It was evident in Winston’s voice that things were taking a toll on them, too. As she prepared the last of the snacks she brought, she placed a comforting hand on their shoulder and gave Winston a meaningful look before following them out into the living room with snacks in tow. It was hard not to laugh along with Todd. He was sure secretive about this older woman he was seeing, which made her a bit weary, but she chalked it up to her own bleak outlook at this moment. With a coy grin, she threw in, “I mean, hearing about your dating life sounds fun to me, but fine, don’t tell us the juicy details. I’m not living vicariously through you.” Maybe she wasn’t, but that thought made her head spin. She didn’t like to think about how she felt about Ace. None of that mattered if she let Lydia kill him and thinking about it only made her sad, so she shook it away and asked, “So what are we starting with first? I’ve only really done board games with y’all, so I’m really game for anything.”

“I have no idea what you all are talking about, but I’m totally not going to pry into your dating life.” Orion shrugged, trying to feign the same light and airiness that Todd carried himself around with. Though the two weren’t close, and had only just met Rio realized that everyone needed a friend like Todd to keep this optimistic even in the worst of times. Rio just hoped for Todd’s sake that he never had to figure out how difficult things could get here in White Crest. But for the sake of tonight, Rio could try to forget it. Or if nothing else at least ignore it. “Some of us are trying to make good first impressions.” Rio grinned, hoping that by taking Todd’s side he won some points. Though it didn’t seem like it took much for Todd to make friends with someone. He seemed like a pretty personable guy. It was the same attitude that Adam held at times, though Rio was starting to figure out that there was more beneath that surface. “If we play video games, Winston is sure to stomp us all. Not that I’m complaining.” Wait… did that sound suggestive? He coughed into his arm and cleared his throat, trying to change things around, “But uh- we have cards. And board games. And can do anything that doesn’t involve me making a decision. Wow I’m thirsty. I mean parched. I mean… I’m gonna grab water now.”

“Todd is dating a mystery older woman,” they explained to Rio, “but he likes to keep things secret to build tension… apparently.” Winston had to admit that they found it a little strange that they hadn’t heard more about Todd’s girl, but they weren’t one to pry into their friend’s private business, as long as Todd was happy then so was Winston. Especially when he was apparently managing to continue to live a relatively normal life without the interference of any supernatural parties. Something that Winston kind of envied him for. Yet it was very weird that Todd wasn’t telling them more. Normally he liked to show off those that he was dating. Apparently not anymore, but then again maybe this was different. Sharing a brief look with Ariana, Winston felt their stomach flip. They weren’t sure if it was worse that they were having emotions or feeling numb all the time. When they had an overwhelming sense of loss they wanted to feel numb and when they felt numb they didn’t want to feel anything. Swallowing away the lump in their throat, Winston sighed gently. “Whenever you’re ready dude,” Winston assured him quietly, “you know that we all just want to get to know her but … you can’t rush these things.” It had taken Winston a while to admit the same things with Rio. Besides, every relationship was different. “We could start with something like cards against maybe?” Winston wasn’t sure that they really wanted to play anything, but it was games night and they had to make the effort, how were things going to go back to … well whatever normal had been before all of this?

As he was razzed by the others, Todd couldn’t help but grin sheepishly. It was nice to know that they cared about him-- not that he doubted Winston! He knew that work came first and people had to prioritize their stuff! But, it was still nice, feeling wanted like this. It was the way Lydia made him feel. Man, he wished that he could tell them about her. But, now just wasn’t the time. Maybe he’d have a party! Where he could invite his friends and have them meet Lydia, and he could tell them about how he’d met the lead singer of Ace of Cups. At Rio’s words, he offered a wink, “I like you, dude. I mean, I knew I’d like you given everything Winston’s told me about you, but you’re a good one. Keep this one around, bud!” He said, clapping a hand on Winston’s shoulder and giving him a teasing shake. “I just don’t wanna freak her out! She’s like… super high class and like, half the time we go on dates, I’m just like “wow, she’s so outta my league.”” He said and shrugged. When Winston suggested cards, he nodded. “Sounds good to me! Poker’s fun, but we can also do other games too! Blackjack, BS, I’m up for whatever!”

If Todd preferred to keep his love life a mystery, Ariana could try to understand. Still, something left her feeling uncertain, but she chalked it up to how shit everything had been lately. She hadn’t meant to become this cynical person and she straightened up realizing that Celeste would never have wanted this for her. With a brighter smile that still felt forced, she commented, “Well, whoever this classy mystery woman is, she’s lucky to have you. You’re super fucking cool.” It was hard not to be endeared by Rio’s ever consistent spazzy tendencies. One day, she hoped he felt more sure of himself, but around he seemed to be getting more comfortable with her personally. She’d just have to help take over decision making for him which was hardly difficult. “I don’t know how to play poker, but I do love Cards Against Humanity. There’s no numbers in that one which like, thank god,” she responded dramatically. Her and math were never going to be friends and that was fine by her. “What’s the ridiculous rule for who goes first again?”

“Don’t make me blush, it happens way too easily!” Orion cried out, but he was laughing as he shied away from Todd’s approval. It was weird, meeting one of Winston’s friends as their boyfriend instead of just being Rio. The two had been part of a connected group of friends, where most of them knew each other before Winston and Rio ever started dating. It was no longer telling the people that he was already friendly with that he and Winston were seeing each other now, but actually meeting someone new while being a couple. It was a small enough difference that it should have been completely inconsequential, however it still sparked excitement in Rio. “I agree. She sounds pretty cool, but you’re definitely a catch.” He had to admit that the two did sound like a semi odd pairing, but Rio didn’t know enough about Todd or this mystery woman to judge either way. As long as the two were happy, Rio didn’t see the problem. “Yay. A game full of sexual innuendos that I totally understand” Rio grinned sarcastically and resigned himself to his fate. He was going to be lobster red from blushing the entire night. At Ariana’s question, Rio groaned hating that he was the one that remembered the rules to this game, “It’s uh- Well I’m pretty sure the official rules say that it was the last one to like… go to the bathroom… number two style.”

Winston swallowed a mouthful of their drink. Why did everything taste kind of shitty now? Everything felt kind of shitty too. Winston felt like their throat always stuck together whenever they swallowed anything like there was a weird lump in it or something. “I guess we’ll all just have to wait in suspense to see what’s she’s like, something to look forward to … right bud?” Winston swallowed, were they convincing enough? Probably not. They were having a good time right? “Even if you don’t understand them Ri now is the time for you to learn right?” Winston chuckled, the sound was hollow and Winston did what they could to ignore that. “I did a number two this morning but I haven’t really had a chance to eat today soooo…. Anyway, anyone been more … regular then me?”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #chatzy para #p: todd #game night #p: ariana #p: orion

10 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 5 years ago

Text

Talking about the Season 3 finale time!

...yaaaaaay.

So I just want to start by saying how much of a shame it is that “Miracle Queen” was a terrible dumpster fire of an episode, because “Heart Hunter” legitimately had a lot of good things going for it. It had better pacing than usual, let Marinette have fun with Adrien and Kagami rather than be in a constant state of misery (she was miserable a few times, of course, but with good reason), gave Luka screentime and let him actually do things, built up suspense with Hawk Moth taking the Miracle Box, and it allowed Marinette to both have a breakdown and be comforted.

“Heart Hunter” was not a perfect episode, but for Season 3 standards, it was darn good. Its worst faults are things that I’ll get into soon, but most of them relate back to what “Miracle Queen” ends up being. I mean, despite how much “Miracle Queen” tries (and fails) to follow up on what “Heart Hunter” does, the two episodes feel as if they were written by completely different people; it’s like someone wrote “Heart Hunter,” got fired before they wrote the following episode, and someone else who hates Marinette and good storytelling in general was brought on and told to finish what the other writer started with no context as to what that other writer had actually planned.

But, anyway, yeah, just wanted to get that out of the way. Let’s get into the salt.

[Justice Delayed]

I'll just say it outright: I honestly didn't want Chloe to be redeemed. I'm not saying that she was outright irredeemable, but at the very least, I didn't want her getting her miraculous back.

The ultimate problem concerning Chloe is that the writers sent conflicting messages.

"Evillustrator" had Sabrina returning to Chloe, not because she's in a toxic relationship and doesn’t know how to deal with a better one, but because of a complete misunderstanding.

"Antibug" didn't have Chloe apologize for anything. Chloe gave Sabrina a gift instead of apologizing, and that's only because Ladybug brought up their relationship.

"Rogercop" completely ignored the possibility of Sabrina getting mad at Chloe for getting Roger fired.

“Despair Bear” had Chloe trying to be nice, but only to please Adrien. As soon as he was back on her side, she went back to being terrible.

"Zombizou" had Chloe feel bad, but for Miss Bustier. Like, oh, great, she sacrificed herself, but for what when Miraculous Ladybug fixes everything anyway and now Marinette is led on this idea that she has to be a good example for her bully when it was the bully getting consequences for their actions that made them react?

"Style Queen" threw in the “my mom hates me so i’m sad” card (far too late in the plot) and just had Chloe continuing to care only about the people who mattered to her: Ladybug and Adrien. They're people who are useful to her, and then "Queen Wasp" throws any intrigue into the trash by having her nearly kill dozens of people in a train crash (including Marinette’s parents, by the way) and not even feel bad about it yet still getting the sad sympathy music and the “feel bad for me” camera angles. The episode even goes further into confusing territory by having Marinette make Chloe and her mother bond over being mean to people.

After that, despite Chloe revealing herself to all of Paris, “Malediktator” has Adrien come in and make Marinette feel bad for being glad that her bully is gone, leading Ladybug to give Chloe another chance with the bee which just caused more chaos in “Catalyst” (where she insulted the one who brought it to her because he wasn’t Ladybug) when Hawk Moth used Queen Bee’s identity against her.

Then Season 3 comes along, and it is a mess. “Startrain” and “Stormy Weather 2″ featured Chloe being demanding of her miraculous (similar to “Catalyst” at least), then there was “Miraculer” which finally put the foot down on her only to do it in all the wrong ways by showing flashbacks of Chloe and Sabrina having good times (which might’ve worked had this been an episode trying to redeem Sabrina, showing why she’s attached to Chloe and going deeper into the themes of a toxic relationship with how a few nice things fool the mind) and showing Chloe resist an akuma, which no character has ever done before. It also revokes Chloe’s miraculous because she revealed her identity and not because she constantly acts like a terrible person.

And, might I add, how convenient it is that Chat Noir goes against the idea of Chloe continuing to be Queen Bee in the season where she gets her miraculous revoked. We had Miss Bustier's lesson which is presented like a good idea in "Zombizou," only for nothing to come of it, then Adrien scolding Marinette in "Malediktator," only for Marinette to take the fall for trusting Chloe in the first place.

The show can't do that. I mean, it can, but only if it wants to look hugely incompetent while doing so. This is even ignoring the fact that Ladybug had already said that Chloe was never getting the bee back. "Miraculer" stated, loud and clear, that Chloe wasn't getting it back, yet Chloe continues thinking that Ladybug is going to give it back to her.

"Miracle Queen" is not Ladybug's fault for not picking Chloe because it was Chloe who didn't listen and continued feeling entitled to the bee miraculous.

Like, first of all, Ladybug is not Chloe's babysitter. It's not Ladybug's job to coddle Chloe and give her what she wants. Had Ladybug given Chloe the bee, Chloe would've just continued believing that the bee miraculous was rightfully hers. It doesn’t matter if Chloe was good for the bee or not; they’re temporary holders and liable to replacement. “Style Queen” almost had Alya as the bee, after all, implying more of a miraculous rotation than one person on one miraculous. Even beyond that, no one who feels entitled to a miraculous should get it back, and Chloe not only falls under that category, but she trusted and liked Ladybug rather than the Miraculous team as a whole; that does not make her a viable team member.

(By the way, the fact that they had to cut the bee signal was a glaring issue; why did they not just have Mayura camp at Chloe's spot to prevent Ladybug from giving her the bee? Chloe could've easily been like, "YOU cut the bee signal because Ladybug would've come for me otherwise!" Having Mayura camp at the hotel while Hawk Moth follows Ladybug ensures the retrieval of the Miracle Box and that Ladybug won't go for Chloe even if she picks the bee. Furthermore, it was utterly pointless anyway because Hawk Moth's plan hinged on having the bee miraculous to bribe Chloe with. It banks on Ladybug grabbing a miraculous that isn't the bee - remember, the miraculous Ladybug took stayed with her to use later - and why would Ladybug care whether the bee signal was up or not? Chloe hangs at the hotel basically all the time.)

Secondly, if the issue is that Ladybug didn’t de-transform, she had no choice. Mayura had lingered around the town before, but Hawk Moth doesn't often go outside aside from the bigger battles. Ladybug knew that she’d lost Mayura and had no idea that Hawk Moth was on her tail. Had she gone somewhere to quickly de-transform, Hawk Moth could’ve either figured out her identity or at least suspected her and followed after her just to confirm, which would’ve outted both Marinette and Fu. Narratively speaking, Marinette could not have made any other choice without the show having to deal with the crisis of Hawk Moth knowing Ladybug’s identity.

Thirdly, even outside of Ladybug potentially choosing the dragon due to wanting to get Kagami away from Adrien, the dragon ended up being the right choice in the end. Ladybug had a plan put together with her Lucky Charm before Hawk Moth de-akumatized Heart Hunter, and she didn’t stutter or seem unsure of herself at all. Kagami is also completely unlike Chloe in that she accepted when Ladybug told her in “Ikari Gozen” that she wasn’t going to get the miraculous back; Kagami was even respectful and greeted Longg politely when they met back up the second time.

Kagami is a legitimately good dragon, and was also the only other miraculous wielder that Ladybug currently knew the location of. Plus, Kagami needed to be taken away by Ladybug anyway because Adrien didn’t know that there was an akuma running loose until Kagami was whisked away to help fight. Had Ladybug chosen Chloe, the team would’ve been short one cat.

(Also, y’know, dragon was the right choice again later because dragon is awesome and was used to create the water shield; as far as I’m concerned, that was Ladybug’s intuition kicking in when she picked dragon.)

Point being, I don’t blame Ladybug for Chloe’s akumatization.

Still, the fact stands that it’s all of this just to make a big deal out of whether Chloe is going to turn good or bad. All of these episodes focusing on Chloe and Chloe’s problems and giving her a sad backstory about her mom not caring about her, just to throw it all away and have her go back to the dark side.

No, I didn’t want Chloe redeemed, but even if she had been, my problem is that so much time was wasted on a bully character when the show had tons of other characters ready and willing to wear a miraculous without feeling entitled to it. We already have a rich white blond character with a sad backstory - Adrien - and he’s the deuteragonist of the show!

The reality is that, wherever Chloe ended up in the end, it never could have been properly satisfying because--

1 - There were too many conflicting messages of Chloe having some good in her and her being outright evil.

2 - It took too long to reach the conclusion of her nonexistent arc. Either it was a tedious exercise in making a Season 3 villain happen or it was a redemption that took so long to happen that people stopped caring about it.

3 - Chloe didn’t have any of the necessary steps that a good redemption arc would require (like actually feeling bad when she bullies someone and appreciating Marinette after Marinette went through so much effort to throw her a party). Miss Bustier didn’t promote giving Chloe actual consequences and even “Miraculer” refused to point out that her being a bad person was part of the problem (Chloe can’t do anything about her identity being revealed, but she could’ve done something about her attitude), which would’ve just made a redemption for her feel hollow and incomplete.

I’d rather have a dropped redemption arc than a failed one (i.e: where she’d get “redeemed” but it was too clumsy getting there), but the fact that we had to deal with episode upon episode of this girl bullying people, treating her “best friend” like trash, and constantly going back to her old ways no matter what happened... it’s infuriating, and wasted time that could’ve gone to characters who needed that screentime.

Another weird thing about it is when Miracle Queen is de-akumatized into Queen Bee. I understand that Chloe is rather childish and probably not thinking clearly, but it just goes to show how little time this two-parter has when, instead of choosing to fight Ladybug with Venom, Queen Bee tries to run away with the box, not even using her spinning top to get away.

Then, almost immediately after being tripped up, Queen Bee basically gives up all of the miraculouses except the bee on the spot, not even trying to keep them out of pure spite for Ladybug. Afterward, all Ladybug has to do it pluck the bee from Queen Bee’s head and it’s over; Chloe didn’t even try to fight back or run from Ladybug.

Heck, even the akumatization itself wasn’t satisfying...

[Satirical Queen]

I never liked mind-control akuma.

Like, ever.

Dark Cupid at least did something by not explicitly mind-controlling and just turning people into evil versions of themselves, but after so many mind-control akumas in this entire show, it gets tiring. Akumatization itself is already a form of mind-control, but it at least leaves a semblance of the original personality sometimes. This is just mind-control on mind-control.

Miracle Queen is just the next typical mind-control akuma, and she’s not even good at it. For starters, the aqua powers were already used in the last finale (as was the butterfly sentimonster but that’s not important, only aggravating) and water is the only place that the bees can’t go. Yes, Ladybug and Chat Noir would eventually be forced to leave the water in order to rescue Fu, but it’s just Queen Wasp all over again with (hive)mind-control instead of paralysis

...and a crown.

It’s also just... boring. Like, really boring, not to mention way too easy.

Hawk Moth gets the Miracle Box by beating up an old man (who basically did nothing but got turned into a ping pong ball), Chloe is literally just handed the miraculous and the Miracle Box, and then Miracle Queen can just call for anyone who’s used a miraculous before.

There’s not even any way to break the mind-control. I’ve talked about this over Princess Fragrance too, but it’s just not fun when there’s no way out besides Miraculous Ladybug, especially when Miracle Queen sweeps the city so quickly and puts almost all of Paris under her control in an instant (and she doesn’t even do anything with the civilians).

When it was just “Heart Hunter,” it was fine because we - as an audience - didn’t know the repercussions of what was happening. For me personally, I thought that the Miracle Box would be reclaimed, Chloe would get her miraculous revoked (...again), no identity reveals would happen, and Marinette would become the new guardian while Fu retires.

Nothing overly dramatic, but Hawk Moth had the miraculouses AND Fu. That was enough. Adding things on made the whole situation feel extremely unrealistic because the amount of effort Hawk Moth put into his plan gave him way more of a reward than he deserved.

He got to see the identity of every hero (Nino could be figured out by process of elimination), essentially forced the guardian to revoke his guardianship (which sounded bad on his end but put Ladybug at a huge disadvantage emotionally and just by virtue of likely not having full training), got the entire translated grimoire, and got to fix the peacock miraculous.

All he did was basically leave his house and everything just fell into his hands.

Even Miracle Queen as an akuma is laughable; Chloe in general is a laughable akuma. Antibug lasted about six and a half minutes, Queen Wasp lasted a pathetic four (her Scarlet akumatization did about double that), and Miracle Queen lasted for ten if you cut out the extra instances of Second Chance.

In order for Chloe to work as an akuma, she can’t be taken head-on. Antibug only lasted as long as she did because Marinette was de-transformed and had to renew her energy after fighting Vanisher. Miracle Queen was the same where she had several people fighting for her; as soon as there was an opening in the water shield leading to her, she was basically done.

A massive issue with Chloe’s akumatizations is that she always ends up sharing the spotlight with someone else, which cuts both her time and threat level.

Scarlet Queen Wasp was basically irrelevant but like--

Antibug had to share her episode with Vanisher,

Queen Wasp had to share her episode with herself (i.e: Queen Bee),

and Miracle Queen couldn’t even get an entire two-parter to herself; Heart Hunter was the akuma in part one and then Miracle Queen brought in her Miraculous Henchmen as soon as she could while she did nothing in the background.

At least in “Mayura,” even though not splitting the akuma up into groups was a mistake (would’ve made the plan look more thought-through and easier to follow visually), Hawk Moth was at least the mastermind of it. Miracle Queen is just Hawk Moth’s lackey, so it’s like getting a downgrade.

And... okay, while I know this doesn’t have anything to do with Miracle Queen’s competency, I have to ask: why didn’t Hawk Moth akumatize the Miracle Box? Why akumatize one superhero’s weapon when he could’ve akumatized the box that contains the things that make the superheroes what they are? Hawk Moth doesn’t try to keep the Miracle Box away from the heroes anyway because Miracle Queen keeps holding onto it, so it’s not like he was trying to protect it from being taken back.

It also would’ve given us potential mind-controlled kwami, which is far more interesting than standard human mind-control. There’s no need for identity reveals if the kwami (who can’t say their holders’ names; Miracle Queen and Hawk Moth would be very frustrated by this) are the ones who deliver the “infected” miraculouses (which then cause mind control) to their holders and possibly force them to transform under Miracle Queen’s command. Heck, maybe it’s a matter of purifying the miraculouses in the light of Ladybug’s yoyo or it being the power of de-transformation that “fixes” them, and it becomes a matter of slowly evening out the playing field as the infected heroes start to switch sides (bonus if Ladybug and Chat are working hard to protect their teammates’ identities so they have to choose wisely and lure the hero to someplace discreet first).

The other reason I’d be for akumatizing the Miracle Box instead is that it means we don’t get a season finale villain that’s just an edit of Queen Bee.

I mean, sure, Miracle Queen is technically the most creative compared to what the original form was, but that’s not saying much of anything, and it leaves “Miracle Queen” with a villain who isn’t even new-looking. It’s just more typical “akumatized miraculous holder that’s supposed to be a crazy special event until you realize that they just turn into recolors and edits of themselves” stuff. The new material in the episode is mainly Dragon Bug and Snake Noir and...

*sigh*

[Bad Things Come to Writers Who wAIT TOO LONG TO DO THEIR JOB]

Remember “Kwamibuster,” where all plots meshed together seamlessly because they were all created by one action (Ms. Mendeleiev seeing the kwami, leading Adrien and Marinette to have to protect their identities, which led to Marinette using a new miraculous to accomplish multiple tasks)?

Yeah, the two-parter doesn’t do this. Fitting the continuation of the romance plot in is coincidence at best and contrived at worst.

For one thing, Luka and Kagami are taken out of the plot as soon as “Miracle Queen” hits. Luka pulls a Chat (i.e: “let me shield this person with my body”) to protect Marinette instead of acting more thoughtfully like in “Captain Hardrock” (the bakery is literally right next to them), which makes no sense because it requires one of the bees to be ahead of all the others, thus stabbing only one of them and giving Marinette time to react to Luka being mind-controlled while also being able to get away. If Luka had demanded that she run and then picked up his guitar or something as a weapon to try and keep the bees away from her for as long as possible, that’d be different, but it just doesn’t seem very “Luka” to shield Marinette like that without doing anything else.

Kagami’s is more believable, but it’s still a matter of one bee being ahead of the others to give Adrien time to react. Adrien could've just been running away and glanced behind him to see Kagami getting mind-controlled.

It’s also a weird trade-off in general. It’s like the writers thought that Viperion appearing in part two made things equal between him and Ryuko despite the fact that Viperion was under mind-control at the time. (I acknowledge that Viperion appeared in “Party Crasher,” but that episode was literally just an excuse to throw all the male heroes together and Viperion didn’t get to do much anyway nor did Luka get any significant screentime.)

It means that both Luka and Kagami have no proper involvement with the plot going on despite the fact that they play a huge role in the romance side of things and the fact that both dragon and snake are used in the battle against Miracle Queen.

At the very least, Miracle Queen could’ve ordered Luka and Kagami (in civilian form) to fight Dragon Bug and Snake Noir, which could’ve led to a realization moment between Marinette and Adrien over just how much they really care about their alternative love interests due to just how unwilling they are to fight them and how much it hurts to see them under enemy control.

For two, I question both Dragon Bug and Snake Noir’s appearance in general. Like, just on Snake Noir, “Desperada” happened in this season and showed that Adrien wasn’t good at using the snake. While it’s totally possible that he was better at it because of the situation change or because he felt more confident having an aggressive miraculous to go with it, it’s jarring seeing him not only use the snake without question, but succeed in using it after failing at the snake so many times before.

(Also, just saying, snake and cat is a terrible combination considering that Cataclysm can destroy miraculouses and the hand used to flick the snake head is the hand that’s used for Cataclysm; the animators clearly noticed this as well and had Chat put the miraculous on the wrist that the turtle miraculous would’ve gone on.)

And while I don’t doubt that Marinette can use the dragon skillfully, it seems like the water shield - and a shield that forces out Miracle Queen at will too - is somehow a power gained by using the dragon and ladybug together, which... doesn’t really make sense? “Water Shield” screams dragon and turtle, not dragon and ladybug. While the yoyo can be spun to be used as a shield, it’s not the same type of shield that Dragon Bug creates. It could’ve been the same disc-shaped shield that the yoyo creates, but just hovering above them and making it rain over the battlefield for protection; Miracle Queen could’ve still been too afraid to intervene since she’s too valuable.

It’s also just a woefully missed opportunity that Luka and Kagami didn’t get to fight alongside Ladybug and Chat because it would’ve been a beautiful team. Chat knows both Ryuko and Viperion’s identities, so it would’ve been a team where Ladybug and Chat have the same information and it really feels even.

Unfortunately, the opening to “Miracle Queen” just summarizes how out of the main plot Luka and Kagami are forced to be. “Heart Hunter” seemed to really care about both of them, giving them sweet moments with their respective love interests (though, granted, I would’ve liked it if Luka was free after riding Marinette to the hotel and joined her in helping, so he got to participate in the fun too; would’ve been amazing as a callback of sorts to “Frozer,” showing how the interactions have changed from way back then), but as soon as “Miracle Queen” kicks in, both Marinette and Adrien recoil from them and watch them get stung by Miracle Queen’s bees soon after. Luka and Kagami go from being a comforting presence in the story to being an afterthought.

And it’s just made more confusing by things that are either dropped or added between the two parts. One would think that Chat’s line about having a girlfriend would come back in "Miracle Queen” (like, he and Kagami actually getting together and him proclaiming cheerfully this time that he really does have a girlfriend), but it’s just there and gone as if the audience needs a reminder (we don’t) that Chat can be really petty with getting Ladybug’s attention. On the opposite end, Luka playing Marinette’s song seems like typical “Captain Hardrock” Luka in “Heart Hunter,” only to turn into some sort of metaphor in “Miracle Queen.” The two parts are just so disjointed compared to the other two-parters, not helped by the fact that previous two-parters maintained focus on one/two akuma (Stoneheart in “Origins” and then Catalyst + Scarlet Moth in “Heroes’ Day”). While “Heart Hunter” and “Miracle Queen” do forward the plot in a significant way, they feel more like “Style Queen” and “Queen Wasp” in terms of execution.

Or, rather the failure in execution, along with both two-parters heavily featuring Chloe.

Speaking of Chloe, actually, the romance plot suffers from the same problem that Chloe’s did; the episodes dedicated to it weren’t given the treatment they needed. In order to save the next step of the romance plot for the finale, the show meandered around the topic, keeping Luka strangely away from Marinette during episodes where it didn’t make sense (”Gamer 2.0″) and having “Ikari Gozen” happen late so the show could dance around the topic of Marinette and Kagami’s relationship (like, just throwing this out there, but it would’ve been nice to have that “we’re friends but I still want Adrien” conversation to happen in another episode).

It’s... yeah, it’s not great. “Heart Hunter” almost succeeded in making the romance plot more relevant to the main plot by having the akuma be love-based (Kagami’s line after the fact almost makes that connection, in fact), but it was ultimately just a piece of Hawk Moth’s plan and not based on anything, like Mayura learning in “Ladybug” that Ladybug already liked another boy. The two-parter ends up feeling more like two stories going on at once and fighting to see whose turn it is, rather than one cohesive plot that ties everything together.

It’s also weird to have the Adrimi ship be in the position it is by the end of “Miracle Queen.” There were multiple episodes showing a significant attraction between Adrien and Kagami, and “Heart Hunter” had Adrien readily leaning in to kiss her and not flirting with Ladybug when Ryuko was around, but then “Miracle Queen” gives completely mixed messages by having Adrien pull away and feel conflicted by the almost kiss, only to then have him lovingly caress Kagami’s cheek by the end of the episode. “Heart Hunter” and the end of “Miracle Queen” scream “ADRIMI IS CANON,” but that one part where Adrien pulls away leaves things in the dark and hurts Kagami’s feelings because Adrien keeps doing all these things with her (HI, “FROZER”) but they don’t go anywhere romantically. It feels like a last-minute change where Adrimi was meant to be an official couple by the end of Season 3, but it was decided against because... I don’t know, they wanted it to be on roughly the same level as Lukanette by then instead?

I have no idea, but it’s a weird decision. “Miracle Queen” is full of weird decisions.

And also, you know, really dumb decisions too.

[Remember to Write (Well)]

So...

Okay, now it’s time to talk about Fu; both Fu in general and “the thing” that happens by the end of “Miracle Queen.”

For Fu in general, ever since he’s been on the run, it’s been a confusing experience figuring out what exactly he’s trying to accomplish. Hawk Moth knows his identity apparently, yet Fu - an old man who can hardly defend himself even while transformed - continues holding onto the Miracle Box, doing odd jobs here and there while Marinette undergoes guardian training...

I presume, anyway, because we literally don’t know. Basically all of Marinette’s training (both concerning the Miracle Box and overall) has been off-screen, and most of Fu’s appearances post-”Feast” were just him handing off miraculouses that Marinette needed.

I say this because Fu could’ve passed on the Miracle Box to Marinette and just visited whenever he needed to train her. Sabine is Chinese, so Fu could've easily struck up a conversation and made friends with her, giving him an excuse to visit.

Would it have stopped Hawk Moth from trying to steal the Miracle Box? Maybe, maybe not, but my point is that a guardian who can’t guard is essentially worthless and just ends up placing a giant target on their head.

In addition, while we don’t know the extent of the other kwami powers outside of the miraculous, I don’t understand why Wayzz didn’t at least try to protect Fu himself. Would the shield have been too large? The only case of a kwami using their powers outside of the miraculous is Plagg, the kwami with possibly the least self-control, and even he managed to save Adrien without destroying the city in the process, so I’m sure Wayzz could do it.

Anyway, even beyond that, I’m stunned that Fu didn’t notice Mayura’s ill state and realize that the peacock miraculous was broken (presuming that he didn’t know it was broken before). It could’ve been a great moment where Fu talks about the dangers of wearing a broken miraculous, then shouting that information to Ladybug and Chat Noir. It would’ve helped in finding Hawk Moth because they’d know to look for those kinds of symptoms (looking at you, Adrien, please get involved here) in order to find the peacock holder. Even if Gabriel still fixed the peacock miraculous in the end, I doubt that the illness just goes away, because that’d mean that Emilie would be alive and kicking by the start of Season 4.

I mean, just in general, if Fu was going to leave by the end of “Miracle Queen” anyway, why not have him and Hawk Moth engage in a battle of wits? If this was going to be Fu’s last stand, why not have Hawk Moth beat him down, taunt him, boast about how he’s a pathetic guardian since he doesn’t have all the miraculouses, then give Fu a single shot at touching the Miracle Box before promptly sending an akuma at it?

Fu doesn’t have to actually get fully akumatized - he can resist it (though considering “Feast,” the man seems terrible under pressure) - but STILL, GIVE ME SOMETHING.

Instead, Fu just kinda... goes out on a whimper. “Origins,” “Syren,” and “Feast” teased Fu’s transformation into Jade Turtle, but when we finally see it, it’s Fu hiding inside Shell-ter for the entire time.

It’s so disappointing. It’s Fu’s last chance to do anything, but in the end, he renounces himself as guardian which does... something, I guess?

Like, let’s just actually look at what happens for a moment.

Miracle Queen is defeated. The mind-control bees that Hawk Moth probably planned to use on Master Fu are gone. The best he can do is either kidnap Fu, use him as a hostage (either of these options being once the shield is down), or continue beating him senseless.

But the heroes can, like, jump. Queen Bee might have the Miracle Box, but she’s not doing anything about it; the kwami aren’t even listening to her because she doesn’t know their names. There’s no reason why Dragon Bug and Snake Noir can’t go up to Hawk Moth and Mayura and take them on face-to-face.

Yeah, Hawk Moth beat them up in “Mayura,” but they’re wielding two miraculouses now. Ladybug also wasn’t afraid to take on the butterfly sentimonster head-on in “Mayura,” so it can’t be that they’re too scared to fight it.

Hawk Moth and Mayura are literally just... chilling on the rooftop. Hawk Moth had to jump up there himself to join Mayura so like--

why not go fight them?

And while Snake Noir dismissing Sass makes sense because Second Chance was already used, Dragon Bug dismissing Longg makes no sense whatsoever.

The dragon still had two powers left in it: wind and lightning. The dragon also seems to give enhanced speed (judging from Ryuko in “Ikari Gozen”), so Dragon Bug can just rush up to everyone and take them on directly.

But instead, Dragon Bug dismisses Longg for no verbally explained reason, thus leaving Ladybug twice as helpless to stop what’s happening. Multimouse handled multiple miraculouses and was just fine, so it can’t be that two miraculouses was too much strain on her (I’ll forgive Chat warning Ladybug about unifying with Longg since he doesn’t know that she was Multimouse).

Furthermore, now that Miracle Queen is de-akumatized, she presumably can’t order around the remaining mind-controlled heroes, yeah? I mean, Queen Bee doesn’t even try and they’re just standing there motionless (Sidenote: this is why Ladybug is actually overpowered in the sense of saving people. It’s one thing to heal the damage an akuma caused, but it’s another thing for basic stuff like mind-control to not wear off unless Ladybug uses Miraculous Ladybug; that’s messed up).

Anyway, Fu is still protected in Shell-ter. Nothing is stopping Ladybug or Chat from grabbing the horse miraculous off of Pegasus, feeding Kaalki, unifying, then teleporting inside of Shell-ter to grab Fu.

Like, there, done, mission accomplished. Now Fu is back with Ladybug and Chat at the very least.

I mean, Fu renouncing the Miracle Box doesn’t even seem to do anything. Yes, it gives the ownership to Ladybug, but Queen Bee doesn’t even try to open it back up and she’s in the same state as before where she has all the miraculouses but doesn’t know the kwami names to use them.

Hawk Moth also seems to know what Fu was doing, and... I don’t know why? Yes, Hawk Moth took the tablet (we’ll get to that soon enough, just you wait) and it has the translated grimoire on it, but we never saw him read it. Like, was he doing some light reading conveniently off-screen?

This show just has a terrible habit of not showing things before they come into play. Queen Bee makes a big deal about the Miracle Box changing, but we don’t know what difference it makes. Hawk Moth and Mayura are apparently too afraid to even try to fight Ladybug and Chat even though both heroes are on a timer already, so my point about them rescuing Fu with the horse stands even stronger (plus, if Viperion and Ryuko had been there, would’ve given reason for Hawk Moth and Mayura to retreat, fearing that they’re outnumbered).

And all this - ALL OF THIS - just so that Fu can get his memory wiped because that’s the “fate of the guardians” apparently; to get their memories erased to protect the secret identities of the heroes.

Like--just...

I have a few questions.

...Sorry, did I say a few?

Because NO, I HAVE MANY, MANY QUESTIONS.

Question number one: Wasn’t Fu the one in “Feast” who said that he was trashing the guardian traditions? If so, why go for the memory wipe at all? Again, it does nothing, we had no idea that Hawk Moth would know to give up on Fu (seriously, a shot of him reading the tablet and taunting Fu about it would’ve sufficed), and the bees were gone, so Hawk Moth had no way of forcing the information out of Fu (that line was so vague, it was irritating; what, is Fu seriously going to give in to a little torture?).

Question number two: Do all guardians throughout all of history do this since Wayzz said it was a rule? How is that efficient, like, at all? What happens if a guardian trains their protege, gives up the box, and that protege dies soon after, leaving no one who would know where the box is? Are there literally guardians in the temple who just know all this guardian knowledge and keep passing it down to other guardians who will never own a Miracle Box because they just need to know it in case the guardians of a specific Miracle Box die or lose the grimoire?

Question number three: Following up on two, what happens if a guardian perishes before they’re able to relinquish the box? What happens to the box? Does ownership go to the next person who touches it?

Question number four: If the guardians’ memories are erased to protect the secret identities of the miraculous holders (according to Wayzz), why does everything else about the miraculouses need to be erased too? Hawk Moth was making a big deal out of using Fu to tell him their identities, but was Fu good for nothing else?? Marianne still presumably knows about all this miraculous stuff and there’s no big deal made about that. Heck, she even seems to know Marinette’s identity too since it was Marinette, not Ladybug, who dropped Fu off at the station.

Question number five: Why do guardians have to erase their memories if there’s no danger involved and they just need to pass down the box due to old age, especially if there’s no one else who knows about them being a guardian? Like, “better safe than sorry” or whatever, but why have a rule that basically forces them to relinquish valuable memories? If their protege is the only one who knows about them being a guardian, it’s not like the guardian would be useful at all since they already trained their protege. Thus, even if their protege went bad, there’s no need to go after the guardian.

Question number six: What if there was something important in those memories? Like, seriously, Fu didn’t even know who Ladybug and Chat were; if Fu went walking around the street not even knowing basic facts about the heroes of Paris, people would deem him senile and put him in a home or something.

Question number seven: Is renouncing the Miracle Box like, the last thing a guardian learns? If not, what’s stopping salty guardian teenagers from constantly renouncing the Miracle Box in hopes that the temple will give up on them? Fu knew about the memory loss, but did he learn it from the grimoire, and if so, where are the hints of him realizing what he’d have to do? He clearly had plans to get back together with Marianne, so what gives?

Question number eight: With how much gets erased when renouncing the Miracle Box, it ends up leaving such a risk of putting the guardian in a state of cruel confusion. Journal entries they can’t explain, pictures of people they can’t remember... it’d be a mess.

Question number WHY: How is it a good system to take people who are basically children, essentially force them to be guardians, have them waste their lives away learning all this stuff they might not even want, and then expect them to follow the rules and not be resentful of the fact that they’re going to lose a giant chunk of their memories when they pass the box down? If you ask me, that’s just begging for villains to happen.

And this whole memory loss nonsense is just character death in disguise. Fu has vague feelings towards people like Marianne and that’s it; he has no memories of even the love of his life.

It’s a cheap excuse for ANGST and nothing more. It’s supposed to be the big tear-jerker of the episode yet I’m too busy seething at how utterly lazy and stupid it is.

Like, for something that’s supposed to be so magical or whatever, the actual memory loss process is extremely basic. There is no reason for the memories to be completely erased when they could just as easily be adjusted.

For example: instead of Fu remembering Ladybug coming to him for miraculouses, he remembers her coming to him to ask if he’s okay since there’s an akuma on the loose. Instead of Fu remembering talking to Marianne about miraculouses over tea... he just remembers having a pleasant conversation with her over tea.

But instead, the Miracle Box - apparently the laziest magical object in the universe - just erases the memories completely and leaves only the strongest feelings behind, casually having Fu forget all the terrible things he did and all the lessons he learned because of those things.

Oh, oh, oh, and then there’s the tablet that Hawk Moth and Mayura stole. The one with all the grimoire information on it.

Did Fu seriously not have any security on that tablet? Like, at all? If we’re going off the logic that Hawk Moth knew what renouncing the box meant because he read about it, I can only imagine the look on his and Mayura’s faces when they expected to have to do some serious hacking, only for the tablet to open right up and them to be like, “Oh, that was way easier than we thought.”

Nathalie even said right at the end of the episode that the tablet had the method to fix the peacock in it, so they must’ve already read through it (because, with just knowing that the grimoire is on it, there was no guarantee that the miraculous-fixing method would be in it).

And this episode leaves so many things vague that we don’t even know if Marinette has any of that information. As stated before, we never even saw Fu train her to be guardian.

Does she know the grimoire by heart? Did Fu email her all the data just in case something like this happened? Fu was even the one to give her the potions, so what happens when her supply of macarons and cheese run out?

Outside of Nathalie mentioning that they have the translated grimoire, the episode just leaves us hanging. Just like how “Mayura” ignored Marinette and Fu talking about the peacock being active now, this episode ignores all the things we should be aware of so we know exactly how screwed the heroes are going to be starting next season.

It’s not leaving us in suspense; it’s leaving us questioning things that we should already know.

“Miracle Queen” fails as a follow-up to “Heart Hunter” because, instead of building on the things that “Heart Hunter” chose, it dumps every single thing it can think of onto its audience while leaving no time to explain any of them.

Adrien pulled away from Kagami’s kiss, but the endcard implies that he’s still going forward with his crush on her over Ladybug despite there being no discussion on this at all. Where is the turning point of Chat deciding to give up on Ladybug even though he wasn’t ready for Kagami?

All the heroes got their identities revealed, but what does that really mean anymore? Mayura can’t camp at everyone’s houses waiting for Ladybug to throw them a miraculous. Also, it was Chloe who did this in the first place, so is there any evidence or hints that there will be repercussions for her actions outside of getting her miraculous revoked yet again?

Hawk Moth has the grimoire, but even though Marinette’s first thought should be on it because she’s guardian now, we have no idea how much she knows or even if Fu had a backup plan for something like this happening.

Ultimately, Fu losing his memory was for shock value. That’s why it was never discussed even in the episode itself until it happened, and if angst needs that shock value to touch its audience’s hearts, it’s not doing its job.

Oh, and let’s not forget the effect this has on Marinette.

[Fool’s Marigold]

...I’m baffled.

Just... truly, honestly baffled.

I’ve been doing critiques of so many episodes of Season 3 because, honestly, most of them torment Marinette in someway, but...

Geez, if this isn’t just a culmination of all the misery she’s been through, put in a blender and set to ‘high’...

Let’s begin with “Heart Hunter;” specifically, how the episode throws blame on Ladybug for not de-transforming. Outside of, again, Ladybug really having no choice narratively (because Hawk Moth was following her and really, how was she supposed to know that when there was nothing out of the ordinary with that akuma?), it’s just ridiculous to toss even more stuff for Marinette to fret over.

Marinette has already been through more than enough this season, and there was build-up for Fu to be the one to make the mistake instead.

Like, Fu has a history of not trusting Ladybug. There’s “Feast” and also “Kwamibuster” where Fu is doubtful of Marinette’s capabilities while Wayzz has to be the voice of reason. The exception is “Queen Wasp,” but since that’s in Season 2, one could argue that something made Fu nervous about trusting Marinette (perhaps “Malediktator”? Marinette was convinced by others to give Chloe another chance, but Fu doesn’t know that).

Even in "Heart Hunter” itself, Fu questions Ladybug’s choice in the dragon. Like, yes, Ladybug may be choosing it for reasons outside of the akuma, but again, dragon ended up being a good pick in the end and Marinette has almost never failed before, so what right does Fu have to ask?

Anyway, point being, it could’ve been a matter of Fu being too anxious - too nervous about Ladybug’s capabilities - and he ends up leaving his hiding spot (maybe believing that dragon was the wrong choice), which then allows Hawk Moth to swoop in and swipe the box.

I mean, hey, if Fu’s going to just forget everything anyway, why does it matter what mistake he makes? Marinette can still blame herself for it and there could even be a lesson about thinking things through and not blaming oneself for everything (A LESSON THAT MARINETTE DESPERATELY NEEDS).

And this is basically the moment that sets everything else in motion; Ladybug accidentally leading Hawk Moth to Fu is the moment that causes all the identities to be revealed (excluding Ladybug and Chat Noir’s) and causes Master Fu to both lose his memory and make Marinette the new guardian.

It’s extreme, and--like--look. Regardless of how much Ladybug is at fault, the punishment given for it is far too severe for such a small error. Had this been almost any other episode where Ladybug went to Master Fu, there would’ve been no issues with Ladybug forgetting to de-transform.

The fact of the matter is that Ladybug is a 14-year-old girl who just gave up the person she saw as the love of her life to someone else, and even when she was trying to have a good cry about it, it’s almost immediately interrupted by Heart Hunter showing up and forcing her into action. Then, while she was heading towards Fu to get a miraculous, the show found it necessary to have her coincidentally swing by the exact two people that she didn’t want to see, throwing her off entirely.

After seeing that Fu is no longer around, she finally gets to break down and be comforted by someone who actually knows what to say to her, but her quiet moment is interrupted yet again by an akuma.

She just finished having a breakdown, and it was already time for her to swing back into action after watching as the person who comforted her got mind-controlled because he protected her.

I could really go on and on about all the mental stress Marinette goes through in Season 3 alone, but the point is that needlessly guilting Marinette when she already has the weight of Paris on her shoulders isn’t constructive.

It’s sadistic, only serving to pile on the angst and make Marinette miserable. She has a total of four moments where she’s either breaking down or about to break down, which is insane for a proper story but also completely understandable with everything she’s going through.

The breakdown in which Luka was comforting her was the closest thing to dignity she got, but she’s not able to vent to Luka about what the actual problem is, so when she sees how bad everything really is, of course she breaks down again.

But... well, Chat...

Chat is bad at it. Like, really bad at it.

The episode tries to present both of Chat’s comfortings as touching, but they both fail and fail hard.

The first time, Ladybug is venting about what happened and how she forgot to de-transform, apologizing and calling herself a failure. Chat’s response, essentially, is to remind her of their current mission, tell her how they need her focused.for it, and to request that she just forget about it for the moment.

The second time, Ladybug is freaking out about how she can’t figure out the Lucky Charm, apologizing again and calling herself useless. Chat’s response this time is to first tell her to focus, then simply place his hands on her shoulders and say, “Ladybug, no.”

Neither of his comfortings involved him telling her that she either wasn’t a failure and/or wasn’t useless.

And just by the way, I have a serious bone to pick with that Lucky Charm she summoned. This somewhat correlates with what I was saying about shock value, but why would Fu keep that key with him? Why wouldn’t he give it to Marinette at the very end of “Feast” and go, “if something happens to me, you’ll need this”? It’s banking on Ladybug either summoning the key as her Lucky Charm (and Fu recognizing it, because apparently he can’t remember the woman he shared his guardian secrets with but he can remember that he has a key to a locker that contains the thing he kept the Miracle Box in), or that Marinette/Ladybug happens to be there when this happens to him and he happens to have just the right prompting to give her the key in the first place.

And for another thing, the Lucky Charm is just another excuse for Ladybug to freak out and self-deprecate. Of course Ladybug would have no idea what to do with it; she doesn’t even know what it’s for, which is something no other Lucky Charm has been established to do.

Now, if the Lucky Charm had been seen by Fu, giving him the realization that he needs to renounce the Miracle Box, that’d be different, but that’s not what happens. Instead, Ladybug is looking around frantically for a way to make a Lucky Charm work when it’s not supposed to work, and either way, Fu had no way of knowing that she’d hold onto it long enough for his amnesiac self to see it and know what it was.

And Ladybug clearly didn’t know about the memory erasure. Hawk Moth and the kwami were the ones to react to Fu preparing to renounce the Miracle Box.

This means that Marinette has been training to become guardian with no knowledge of eventually having to give up her memories. Unless Fu had a plan (perhaps involving the box being revoked to Ladybug instead of Marinette, but in the moment, it seems more like something that just made sense for the sake of protecting her identity), he essentially gave Marinette no warning about this when he started training her, subjecting her to the same fate that he didn’t want himself.

And this just furthers the idea that Ladybug isn't allowed to feel anything because the slightest missteps end up causing disastrous consequences. Marinette has to constantly bottle up and suppress how she feels because it means either getting akumatized or the universe fighting back against her, which just leads to her feeling more emotional down the line because that way of thinking is unhealthy no matter how necessary it might be for her to do her job.

Now, if I were Marinette, the FIRST question I would have after becoming guardian is if I'll have to erase my memories too, but we all know that it'll either never be addressed or come out of nowhere if/when Marinette has to renounce the Miracle Box herself.

And while I feel terrible for the poor girl, she doesn't deserve to have all of those memories scrubbed away when there are valuable memories in there. It's sad that she's going through this, but it'd be sadder for her to be forced to let go of memories that she might want to hold onto.

Not to mention, it's all this just because she was hurt that she had to let go of the person she loved. Fu even acknowledges it as her mistake without putting any semblance of blame on himself, so the plot clearly blames Ladybug for this.

Because of her, the identities of all her temporary heroes became known to Hawk Moth.

Because of her, Hawk Moth has the translated grimoire that she might not even have herself.

Because of her, Fu renounced the Miracle Box and gave up his memories in the process (oh, and of course they have to add in a line where he says that he'll never forget about her; twist the knife even more, why don't you?).

Because of her, she now has the role of guardian and has to keep the miraculouses protected. She was sobbing in "Heart Hunter" over all the responsibilities she had and how she couldn't be who she truly was, and the show's apparent solution to that is to give her more responsibilities and take away the one person who knew her secret,

Because, let's be honest, Marinette can't talk to Marianne about this. It's apparently all Marinette's fault that this happened, so Marinette can hardly throw any of her troubles at her when this whole situation caused the man Marianne loved to forget about her.

And Tikki doesn't even do anything. Even when Marinette is all alone, reading Fu's letter, Tikki doesn't come out to offer comfort or just generally be there for her holder. The show chose to have Tikki do nothing while even more weight is being put on Marinette's shoulders. Yeah, maybe Tikki is busy mourning the loss of Fu, but we don't know because they didn't show it.

And just thinking about it, the show literally punished Marinette for doing the right thing.

All throughout the series, Marinette has been repeatedly punished for trying to make progress in her life. Attempts to drop Adrien as a crush led to her friends arguing about it, and attempts to confess to Adrien either ended in failure or embarrassment. Her being happy that Chloe was gone led to a scolding from Adrien, and when she tries to give Chloe a chance, it doesn't work out for her. When she then tries to respectfully revoke Chloe's miraculous, she gets stabbed in the back by Chloe allowing herself to be akumatized so the identities of the temporary holders can be revealed. When she tries to out Lila, she's yelled at and told by Adrien not to do anything, eventually leading to her expulsion that was only reversed because Adrien did just enough to get Lila to undo the damage.

Marinette knew that Adrien had feelings for someone that wasn't her; he told her as much. She recognized that Adrien and Kagami had a bond and decided to let them be together because it was the right thing to do.

And she was punished for it. She was punished for having a reaction; for having feelings.

We don't know what Season 4 holds for her, but judging from how she's treated in Season 3, it can't be anything good.

Buckle up, people.

#category: salt #category: critique #category: long post #word count: over 9000 #episode: Heart Hunter #episode: Miracle Queen #((I'm too tired to live.))

204 notes · View notes