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nightingiall · 5 years ago

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head in the clouds: part i

Rory Bhatt hates lifeguarding, hates the Shack kids, and hates Niall Horan. All she wants is to have a peaceful summer minding her own business and hopefully be able to find some much needed inspiration so she can finally start sketching things that look good again. But Niall Horan appears, with that annoying grin and a problem on his hands, and of course that plan goes out the window.

A story about tired lifeguards, a stolen cat, wild imaginations, and lots and lots of parties.

There is not a cloud in sight today.

The sky is endlessly blue, starting with a light, nearly white, color from the horizon that blends into the soft azure right over where Rory is sitting. It’s beautiful, she thinks, how one simple color can blend seamlessly into the gradients that make up that sea of vast nothingness above her. But today, she wishes that there was at least one cloud floating by.

She sighs to herself, turning her gaze to the large resort pool in front of her, also a shade of blue, but one caused by the blue tiles at the bottom and not nature itself. There are two children near the shallow end bickering with each other. They couldn’t be more than five and three years old. The oldest, a girl, shoves the youngest, a boy, causing him to wail in the direction of a woman who is presumably their mother. When she doesn’t give him the attention, the boy turns back to the little girl, and even from the distance, Rory can see the angry flash in his eyes. She places her whistle between her lips, readying herself for what he might do next.

Sure enough, he charges at the little girl, jumping on her with such force that her head gets submerged under the water. Rory’s whistle sounds off loudly, everyone’s head jerking towards her, and when they are assured her warning is not for them, they return to their poolside shenanigans. “No dunking!” Rory yells at the two children, removing her sunglasses so they can see her eyes trained on them. “This is your first warning!”

Their maybe-mother notices this exchange and quickly breaks them apart, dragging them towards the pool stairs and scolding them all the way. By the time Rory pushes her sunglasses back up her nose, they’re already walking towards a lounger where a man, presumably their father, is already watching them disapprovingly.

“No drawings today?” comes a voice from beside her, and she turns towards it only to find blue eyes that are entirely too close for comfort.

Niall Horan laughs when she flinches, and she rolls her eyes at the sound. But of course he cannot see that through her sunglasses, so he laughs even louder at her frown. He’s standing on one of the rungs of her lifeguard chair, his face level with hers, and she has half a mind to reach out to shove him off.

She doesn’t.

“Not inspired,” is what she mumbles instead, turning her attention towards her sketchbook, which stares back at her, the open page unbearably blank. She brought her nice charcoal pencils with her today after waking up feeling like sketching the clouds. But when she looks up at the sky again, the endless chasm of blue taunts her.

Niall Horan, for his part, simply grins in that wide, obnoxious way of his and hops off the rung to round the corner to the front of the lifeguard chair. He always offers a hand when she steps down and she never takes it, and the same thing happens today. She’s glaring at him now, as she always does when he does that, but she knows he can’t see it through her sunglasses. He must know it’s there though, because this exchange happens every single time, like clockwork.

Literally.

Niall has been behind her in the rotation for two whole weeks now, meaning he’s always the one nudge her out of this mind numbing job every twenty minutes when they have to move on to the next lifeguard chair.

“Well I’m sure you’ll come up with something!” he says cheerfully, just as she’s about to turn away to head over to the next chair. She chances a glance at him just in time to see him swing himself up onto the seat she just vacated, his sunnies, as he calls them, falling back onto his face. She rolls her eyes again, wondering how he manages to make everything seem so effortless yet so insufferably annoying.

She heads to her next post without another word.

***

Rory cannot stand Niall Horan.

She cannot stand him and his loud laugh and his annoying grin and his stupid jokes. She cannot stand him and the way he’s always peeking over her shoulder into her sketchbook and reaching out to trail his fingers along the pages, smearing her nice charcoal work that she’d meticulously smudge to her own liking.

Rory cannot stand him but there are still 60 days left of summer and she has no choice but to deal with him.

***

“You totally have a crush on him.”

Gigi is laughing and Rory is glaring and this is nothing new for the two of them.

Rory wonders how her roommate can be so cheery all the time. Her dark ringlets bounce with her giggles and her dark brown eyes glitter from the light hitting the tears that are starting to build up near her lashline. Leave it to Gigi to cry laughing at Rory’s expense.

“I do not,” Rory bites out. The sheer insinuation is so annoying that she can feel an angry heat spreading across her cheeks. “I don’t like him. At all.” Gigi is still cackling, hand clutching her tummy as she bows over on their tiny kitchen table. “Gigi! I don’t!”

Her roommate, after wiping her laughter induced tears from her face and taking a deep breath to calm herself, simply smiles at her, watching her knowingly. “Wow,” is what she says, shaking her head slightly as she leans back into her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “You are in such denial.”

Rory, for her part, attempts to send her as menacing a look as she can manage, because truthfully, she is absolutely fuming. Seething. Blindingly angry. All at the assertion that she could have a crush on the most annoying boy on the planet. “Gigi…” Her voice is dangerously low and measured. A warning for them to drop this subject before her anger gets out of hand. “I do not have a crush on Niall Horan.”

There’s a tense silence as they both stare each other down. And, if anything, the way Gigi is calmly smiling at her only makes her more upset. Regardless, a truce is drawn when Gigi brings her mug to her lips, sipping slowly from her coffee and shrugging her shoulders, effectively letting the topic go.

“So,” is what she says, all nonchalantly, as if they weren’t just having a heated conversation. “What are you wearing for the party this weekend?”

Rory lets out a sigh of relief, gladly accepting this change in subject and having no interest in giving Gigi any reason to return to the previous topic. So they drink their coffee together and talk about this party.

***

Rory has worked at The Hightstown Resort every summer since she was a sophomore in high school.

It’s a tradition at this point, and she feels like it’s not summer unless she’s at Hightstown. It feels like home, familiar in a way she needs to feel grounded sometimes. And for all the crap she talks about it, she always looks forward to coming back and seeing all the knowing faces that played a part in the story of her youth.

Her mom worked at Hightstown when she was younger too, so all the long-term staff knows who she and her family are. This is especially helpful after hours when she feels like having a midnight snack and the kitchen staffers will gladly let her into the pantry to choose whatever she wants.

Of course she is not the only returning seasonal employee of Hightstown. Gigi has been her roommate for the past three summers, and there are a few other high school to college-aged people who call this place their summer home too. But Rory likes to think that the rest of the staff likes her best.

Hightstown is a place that’s rife with tradition. For the seasonal kids, anyway.

One of those rituals is the summer bash up at the Shacks. Rory has always wondered which snob named the most glorious and expensive staff quarters at the resort the Shacks. Perhaps they thought they were being clever, because there is nothing grungy or shack-like about it at all. There are hot tubs and private chefs and room service and, most importantly, an endless supply of hot water.

Rory hates the Shack kids.

Not because they can afford the luxurious accommodations. She has nothing against rich people. But she does have something against rude rich people.

That fact doesn’t stop her from going to the summer bash, though.

Gigi made her change her clothes twice so Rory walks into the party sporting her signature snarl because she’s annoyed and her best friend is too preoccupied with worrying over how she’s going to impress one of the Shack boys she has a crush on to notice. “Just because you had a bad experience with one of them doesn’t mean I will,” was what she huffed at her as they walked out of their suite. “Loosen up, Rory!”

Rory hasn’t spoken to her since.

Now they’re in the Sunset Villa where the bash is always held and she’s long lost sight of her roommate. Somehow, Rory manages to find two people she can actually tolerate, standing near the makeshift bar area, and she heads straight towards them.

“There she is!” is what Harry says when she smiles at them, throwing an arm over her shoulders to pull her into his side and she gladly reciprocates by slinging an arm around his waist. “I feel like I never see you anymore!”

“Yeah, Rors, where have you been hiding?” chimes in Leslie. Her long, dark hair is pulled up into what looks like a very intricate crown braid and Rory nearly gets distracted admiring it.

She shrugs. “You know me. Not the social type.” They both frown at her because they know that a few years ago, that wouldn’t have been true at all. Rory was always the one dragging them to the parties and begging them to sneak off the grounds so they could go exploring. But she’s different now. The fact of it makes her heart twist strangely in her chest. So, she changes the subject. “Love your hair, Les! You need to teach me how to braid like that.”

They launch into a conversation about hair while Harry goes to get them all drinks. Finally things are starting to feel normal. After the rough way summer ended last year, Rory wasn’t sure she even wanted to come back to Hightstown. But Harry and Leslie, because she’s known them forever, can always be counted on to pull her out of a funk. They all started working at the resort in the same year and have stuck together ever since. Lately, though, they haven’t been able to spend as much time together because of all of their different placements: Rory’s a lifeguard, Harry’s in the kitchen, and Leslie does all the kids programming.

Harry comes back with beers and they catch up for a while. But somehow, the night transitions in such a way that they end up taking shots with some Shack kids, and then more beer, and then someone procures a joint from somewhere which they end up sharing on the back patio. By the time the night starts to wind down, Rory is pretty drunk and maybe a little high and she needs to get back to her room because she’s had enough of the socializing.

She waves goodbye to Harry and Leslie, leaving with a promise that they’d catch up again soon. Despite technically being outside the entire time, as she walks back through the villa and out the front door, she finds that she can breathe better the further she walks from the party. The breeze feels cooler on her heated skin and her head clears a bit. She briefly wonders whether she should have gone to look for Gigi but figures that she’s probably having fun making out with her new Shack boy toy somewhere so she decides against it. She also may or may not still be upset with her.

She’s halfway down the trail when she realizes that her head feels like it’s a disco ball spinning out of control, and before she knows it, she’s plopping down onto the curb rubbing her fingers against her temples as though that would help in quelling the beginnings of the headache she can feel coming. The night is quiet though, the air feeling all light and floaty around her, and she doesn’t mind relaxing here for a bit. The grass is soft against her hands as she leans back against it, her head lolling back until her eyes are trained towards the sky.

The darkness is a stark contrast to the beautiful blue she had been staring at this morning while perched atop her lifeguard chair. There are definitely no clouds in the sky now, but the beautiful thing about Hightstown is that it’s so sequestered from the city that the stars seem to glow a bit brighter here. She smiles, admiring the way they twinkle, almost wishing she could reach up and pluck one right out of the sky to keep.

“Rory?” comes a voice ahead of her, and when she rolls her head upright again to find its owner, she finds blue eyes that sort of glimmer just like the stars she was just looking at.

Then she blinks a few times and realizes it’s just Niall Horan emerging from the darkness.

Her smile falls, then she sighs. She may not like him, but she’s not a bitch, so she mumbles, “Hi, Horan,” in response.

He’s dressed all nice, like a typical Shack boy: dark wash denim jacket with the sleeves cuffed to his elbows, slim fit t-shirt, and some jeans. With his dark hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes, he reminds her of last summer. Reminds her of big brown eyes and a smile that can light up the whole resort. Reminds her of searing kisses and warm touches and giggling into a different denim jacket in some hidden away corner of the grounds

He reminds her of a different Shack boy who broke her heart.

As Niall makes himself comfortable on the curb next to her, she vows to herself that she will not allow a repeat of last summer to happen.

Just as a scowl is starting to form on her face, Niall turns to her, his own lips curling into that megawatt grin of his, and she has to stop herself from wincing because something about it makes her stomach turn. It reminds her too much of another her, in a different summer, where she might’ve been in this exact position with another boy who she didn’t know would rip her heart out of her chest and stomp all over it.

“Were you just at the party?” he asks, voice all soft and sweet and lilted in that Irish accent of his. Ugh, she thinks, internally rolling her eyes, because she’s drunk and that accent just made her heart stop for a second and she hates herself for it. Hates him for it.

She’s just about to say something snarky when she’s interrupted by a strange sound. It startles her for a moment. It sounded so nearby but her alcohol-muddled brain had been too distracted to determine what exactly it was. It happens again and Rory thinks that it sounds a lot like a cat meowing, which in itself is odd because Hightstown has a strict anti-pet policy.

She looks around to find the source when her eyes land on a rather large duffel near Niall’s feet. She hadn’t noticed it before and when she looks up at him to ask him about it, she finds that his face is flushed a bright crimson, visible despite the fact that they’re sitting in the darkness. “Horan,” she says slowly because she’s slightly suspicious now. “What’s in that bag?”

He chuckles nervously which only makes her narrow her eyes at him. “Uhh,” he gets out as he rubs his hands on his jeans, and Rory would bet her life that it’s because they’re sweating. “Nothing.”

He tries to move the duffel away discreetly but she notices. She couldn’t care less about what Niall Horan, of all people, was up to. But her interest is piqued now, so she can’t help the way she reaches over him to grab the bag. “You’re hiding something—”

“No!” He blocks her from being able to close her fingers around the strap, and when she looks at him again, there’s a bit of alarm swirling in his eyes. “I—uh...it’s nothing, I swear!”

Rory simply blinks at him. Honestly, the fact that he’s resisting only makes her more curious, so she says, “Niall Horan. What are you up to?”

She watches as he visibly gulps, chewing on his lips as he mulls it over. Finally, he takes a deep breath and says, “Okay. But if I show you then you have to promise not to say a word to anyone.”

At that, she actually laughs and rolls her eyes because that’s so dramatic. But when he doesn’t even crack a smile, doesn't even try to defend himself, she realizes that he’s totally serious. So, to placate him, she goes, “Yeah, okay whatever.”

He gives her a look and it looks a bit funny on him because she’s never seen him act in any way except obnoxiously bubbly all the time. “I mean it, Rory. Not a single soul.”

She groans, rolling her eyes again because this is ridiculous and she’s beginning to wonder whether this back and forth is even worth seeing what’s in the duffel. “Okay, I promise! Unless it’s something illegal like drugs. Then I’m snitching.” It’s telling how drunk she is because she grins at him before her next words leave her mouth. “Unless you’re sharing.”

Niall simply huffs, shaking his head. But he seems convinced enough because he reaches behind him for the bag and places it gently between them. He’s visibly nervous as he unzips it, constantly glancing up at her as if he’s afraid of how she might react. When the bag is finally open, he tosses the flap back and just looks at her. She shrugs him off, leaning over to peer inside. At first, she sees nothing interesting, but then, she catches movement and immediately recoils with a gasp.

“What is that!” She knows she’s drunk but damn it seems a bit crazy for it to be what she thinks it is.

Niall doesn’t have to reply to her because the creature is emerging from the bag. First, its head pops out, then, as if realizing it’s free from its confines, it attempts to step out before unceremoniously flopping over until it lands on the grass between them. It has muted orange fur with black stripes. Its eyes are pulled downwards, mouth—or snout?—curved in a way that resembles a frown. And it’s huge. Rory has never seen one that big and didn’t even know they were able to get to that size.

“Whoa,” is what leaves her mouth as she stares dumbly at it. She almost wants to laugh. She has to be absolutely wasted because surely her eyes are deceiving her. “That is...a big cat.” Niall is grinning stupidly at her, reaching out to nuzzle the creature’s face. It purrs at his touch but its frown seems to remain intact. Rory tilts her head at it. “Actually...is it really a cat? And not like...a baby tiger or something?”

“Nah, he’s just a regular ol’ cat. Reckon he’s just a bit big-boned or something.” The creature—Rory thinks she’ll just call it a cat—putters towards her and she leans away from it slightly which makes Niall laugh. “Go on, pet him! Isn’t he a cute little fella!” Niall is absolutely beaming now and Rory huffs. She wouldn’t call that thing little, but she reaches out regardless, cautiously rubbing a finger on its head. The cat closes its eyes and purrs at her touch. “Awww,” Niall coos, reaching out too, “he likes you!”

The shock is wearing off and her senses are finally coming back to her. “Uhhhh. Where did you even get this from? You know they’re not allowed on the grounds right?”

He shrugs, gently grabbing a hold of the cat and placing it back into the duffel. “Some lady left the poor little thing in her car out at valet. When she finally got back she got mad at him for leaping out.” Niall is looking at her all imploringly and all Rory can think about is how he really needs to stop calling that thing little. It is definitely not little. “She even raised her hand on him!” He huffs, getting all heated over it. “So,” he says matter of factly, “I saved him from her.”

Rory stares at him. “You stole a cat?”

He shakes his head at her. “No. I saved him.” He nuzzles the thing before apologizing to it softly as he closes the zipper again, leaving a small portion of it open, probably so it could breathe. “Besides, I’m sure the Dree-foos lady won’t miss him anyway.”

Now she’s gaping at him because she recognizes that name. She nearly hopes she misheard it because he’s in deep shit otherwise. “You stole Mrs. Dreyfuss’s cat?!” she asks in disbelief, eyes widened at him. All he does is shrug and she brings her hands to her mouth. “Horan!” she hisses, “don’t you know who she is?”

Niall gives her a look, reaching into the duffel to pet the stolen cat absentmindedly. “I don’t know? An animal abuser?”

Rory shakes her head, huffing exasperatedly. “No, dummy. She’s on the freakin’ board of directors!” She can see the exact moment the weight of this situation dawns on him, his eyes widening slightly. “If you get caught,” she says, because she feels like he needs to hear it verbalized too, “you’re not just getting fired. Dreyfuss will throw a fit and get the whole company in trouble.”

Silence engulfs them for a moment as Niall mulls over her words. “Damn,” is what he finally ends up saying, eyes glazed over in thought. Then, he turns to Rory, spirit all brightened now like he’s just gotten an idea. “Will you help me hide him from people?”

Rory makes an affronted sound because he is so delusional if he thinks she would ever do that. “Absolutely not! I am not getting fired over your stolen cat-tiger thing.”

He frowns at her, and she ignores the little swoop her tummy gives. “Please? You know the grounds better than anyone.”

She gets up from the curb, wobbling slightly because she’s still tipsy and this is all just ridiculous. “No,” she says firmly, turning around to face him only to realize that he’d gotten up too, the duffel now slung over his shoulder. But then, she feels bad because deep down, she knows he means no harm. Even if he’s being absolutely stupid. So she says, “I’ll walk you to the Shacks. But no more. I want nothing else to do with this.”

He grins at her, thanking her profusely as she starts to lead him through the alleyways to the Shacks. And all she can think about the entire time they’re walking is that if she were sober, this would have never happened.

***

Rory thinks Niall Horan is way in over his head.

She’s always been a dreamer, and her mom was always yelling at her to get her head out of the clouds, but no one, she thinks now, is more delusional than Niall Horan if he thinks he can just steal a gigantic cat and keep it safely in his suite at the Shacks.

But she supposes he has 56 days left of summer to deal with that.

tell me what you think! :)

#head in the clouds #writings #niall horan fanfiction #i FULLY intended this to be a oneshot #but then somehow it became over 30 pages long and i was like....maybe it's a fic #anyway wanted to write something fun and goofy and a little bit stupid #if you like it--great #if you don't pls don't tell me lmao #(unless its constructive criticism)#impulse posting tonight bc i'm bored #enjoy #k bye

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homeofjonicles · 2 years ago

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The Jonicles - Entry 19

image above drawn by me using a really cool technique i learned on tumblr!! (the reason it says 30 is because jon is 29 in the strip and i wanted to reference that)

It is currently the 28th of July, 2022 at 7:19 am! This date is a very special one all revolving around a very special boy - It's Jon's birthday! You have no idea how long I've been waiting to celebrate the birthday of this beautiful man! It is also officially day #70 of my Jon Arbuckle hyperfixation (and 7 is a lucky number!), making Jon's birthday extra special as it lands on a great milestone this year!

You know, I've been waiting to write this entry for so long, I know who I'm going to write about and I know that what I'm going to write has to to with the special significance Jon has, but I never knew ehat to actually write on the notes these are written on. But Jon, O Jon…

Jon has really been there throughout almost my entire life whether I have realised it or not. When I was merely a small tiny child sitting on the floor watching Garfield And Friends, his smiling face was there onscreen for 4 year old me to enjoy. When I was still just a young boy sitting in my room reading my dad's Garfield strips, Arbuckle was lovingly sprinkled throughout the pages, prodiving chuckles and smiles wherever he went. When I was a young prepubescent boy, I had discovered and became fascinated with the complexities of the Garfield Minus Garfield strips and was introduced to the sadder side of Jon Arbuckle. And again, when I was only 11, discovering the hilarious and fucked up Garfielf shitposts and binging a compilation of them, Jon was right there the whole way in various different depictions, all of them making me laugh and smile. Every bit of my life that popped up that was even slightly Garfield related, whether it was a fact, or a funny shitpost, a meme, a comic strip, Jon was there, even if he wasn't present, he still lingered and floated around in my thoughts by pure association alone like a gaurdian angel.

And now… now we're here. On that fateful day of May 19th, 2022 at 4:24 am when I witnessed that singular image of that man, Jon appeared in my life once again and this time as a hyperfixation on a fictional character that I never could have predicted. He showed up in my life in a very special way at a time where I'm still discovering things about myself and when I've been feeling my lowest. Confused, in denial, anxious, hopelessness, nothingness, all these things swirling around in my head, and then here comes Jon. That handsome devil, that dorky loveable goof, that relatable fun cartoonist, he had swept me away into an interest that I could have never known would actually keep me in a state of fascination and joy, I think it's even at special interest status at this point! Jon is here, in my heart and mind. And he kinda is like a guardian angel in a way. He's always in my thoughts, his adorable little face looking over me contently. And it's no wonder he's always there if he means so, so much…

Jon is relatable. Incredibly relatable. I have went through this time and time again in many entries, especially Entry 3 which I'm still debating on publishing. But Jon is relatable, sometimes even painfully so and even to the point of me jokingly questioning "hey, maybe i am jon, haha wouldn't that be cool". He's like a representation of me, and I know that's because Jon is written to be relatable, but he's just so much more to me. His quirks, whether it's sorting his socks alphabetically, wearing colourful tacky mismatched suits, playing silly games with his cat like "Guess The Burp", somehow gluing a blender to his face for a strange and inexplicable reason, I am that. And I don't mean that literally, I haven't managed to glue a blender to my face (yet), but it's those little things Jon has that mirror my own quirks. And you may think "well yeah, everyone has quirks!", and you're right. But because I have a strong connection to Jon, because my identity closely matches his in many aspects, those weird and wacky quirks of his feel incredibly familiar like I was the one with those behaviours. Like I was Jon.

And it even goes into feelings. My behavioural and emotional patterns remind me of Jon. He can go from happy and jovial (not matter how fake it is) to null in the difference of a single panel. He can go from being somewhat content with his life to suddenly waking up the next morning and deciding he's going to completely flip it on its head and move to… Antartica or something before dropping that idea too. He can be completely silent and quite depressed looking through an entire strip, paying no mind to the situations unfolding around him, completely unenthusiastic at all. And that… hurts sometimes, especially when Jon isn't upbeat or goofy or even just happy. When Jon is just quiet, solemn, deep in thought, feeling worthless in life, there's no joy to his expression… It not only hurts to see a character I care for and love so dearly in a state of unhappiness, but it hurts in a more personal way. I feel those things, I feel almost exactly like Jon. Unworthy, numb, solemn, confused, anxious. Sometimes I'm scared to pull that lever and continue forward, and I often question the point of doing so, that nagging question that always hangs around in my head. But knowing Jon feels the same, knowing the connection I have to this single character, it makes it easier. And yes, I know that looking to fictional men for help doesn't replace actual social interaction or any professional help, but it helps. Jon helps.

Jon is here for me in my thoughts, I know that for a fact. It's been 70 days already, I think that's well established. He's a friend, a guardian angel, a buddy, a metaphorical shoulder to cry on, no matter how fictional he is. He's been there through thick and thin, he's seen my grow and I've seen him grow as well, and between that barrier that separates reality from fiction is a single connection between he and I. I probably sound like I've lost the plot, but if one day that barrier were to shatter and crumble and I was able to actually see Jon in person, I would. I would be his friend, be able to talk to him, be able to see him right there, I could share my thoughts on the connection between us, and it would be swell. It would be special. It would be theoretically catastrophic if that barrier broke for all fictional characters but hey, at least Jon's there, lol (and maybe Lyman could finally be free from his void prison…..)

So, Jon, on your special day, I celebrate the personal and emotional connection I have to you, as well as your birthday, because you mean so much to me. You mean so much to a random autistic kid from Australia who has a little too much time on its hands to write these, and I'm happy for that. I'm happy that you have been throughout my entire life and many other people's lives to share this similar connection with. You are a pretty underrated character, but you will not got underrated in my heart and in my thoughts, and I swear on that fact. You are special. You are worth something. You are Jon. So, happy birthday, Jon, from all of us. Whether some have been there since that first little strip in a small local paper in 1976, or whether some are just starting to read the comic today, we wish you a happy birthday. Love you, Jon <3

Last edited at 8:18 am

Happy birthday to our special boy from not only me, but many others in the Garfield fandom. Have a great day, Jon, you deserve it :)

Cheers,

Your Local Jonnoisseur

Posted on the 28th of July, 2022 at 8:43 am.

#jonicles 19 #happy birthday jon arbuckle!!!#you are so special to me jon #if only you knew how much you mean to me....#have a great birthday #love you jon <3

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anxiouspotatorants · 4 years ago

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Whoopsy daisy I made a Shadow and Bone random thoughts post:

The costumes in this show are impeccable. I was drooling over all the keftas and the ball gowns in 1.05 and the crow outfits. Hell, even the winter-camo outfits that Mal, Mikhael and Dubrov wore in 1.04 were amazing.

Am I the only one who isn’t surprised by the kruge pronounciation? Because I thought it would sound like how English people say Scandinavian words and I wasn’t wrong.

Coming in to this show as someone who had only read the Six of Crows duology, I expected to at least tolerate Malina based on the trailer clips. I kid you not: less than five minutes into the very first episode they owned my ass. That might be a new record for me.

Seriously the friendship? The pining? The finding home in each other and being able to acknowledge their faults and apologize to each other? Both of them having massive “fight me” energy and protecting each other? Hugs?? Why am I surprised that I ship this?

Some of those scene transitions/flashback edits were so good! Like I know they repeated that meadow scene a lot throughout the season, but the cuts from kid-Mal looking at the rabbit to grown up Mal psyching himself up for the fist fight? Poetic cinema.

The Darkling was horrible and I love it. He wasn’t a carbon copy villain, nor did his complexity redeem him. He was a perfectly complex and understandable monster and I am living for it. I have not been so happy to despise a character in ages and I genuinely bow in gratitude to both the writers and Ben Barnes, because I finally got to enjoy watching a character I did not for one second root for ( #writevillainswellagain)

Look I already loved Jesper in the book but his on-screen translation elevated him from a fave to the fave. I was worried that they would push him into a comedic relief-role, but he got to keep both his heart, his depth, and his humour. Kit Young did an amazing job bringing what was already a great character on page to an even greater character on screen and I once again applaud.

Am I a bit bitter that the casting had some interesting choices for certain roles (aka hiring light skin and mid-size actors for explicitly darker skin and plus-size roles)? Kind of. Do I think there are important discussions worth having about this? Yup. Do I also think that every actor hired for Shadow and Bone did an amazing job and deserve zero hate and massive amounts of love? Also yes.

I had Alexei for one episode and one episode only, and I still miss that poor sucker. This show did a surprisingly good job with making me care about a massive amount of characters considering the screen time they had and the amount of episodes this season had. Good job.

For some reason I expected Inej to be a lot more brooding based on how I perceived her in the books but I love what Amita Suman did with her. Her translation completely recontextualised everything I remember from the books and just brought this truly fresh character to life. Assassin with a conscience indeed.

Also I did love the Kaz we got in this season but I can barely contain myself as I wait for season 2 to be made and for a certain flashback to take place because that moment in the book was visceral and it stayed with me for a long time and I knew before the show announcement that this flashback could become a television moment.

Speaking of Kaz the crows were so chaotic and messy and I’m here for it. Their interactions with each other and their improvised back-up plans were everything. I somehow didn’t expect the crows to become the comedic relief of the season but it honestly makes so much sense.

A couple episodes in I still didn’t get the Zoya hype (remember I haven’t read the books) but was a massive Genya fan. By the end of the season I was like “oh both of these girls are getting redemption arcs and I am here for it”.

Speaking of redemption I still don’t like Matthias. I’m sorry but I just don’t. I get that he is important to many and that they like his relationship with Nina, but I just don’t have the patience for him and feel like Nina can do better. I still want him to get a redemption... but maybe not through a romance with the grisha woman he repeatedly slutshames, is bigoted towards and chokes at least once (twice if that SoC scene from book 1 happens). That being said this is just how I see him, so feel what ever you feel about him and ship to your heart’s content!

Alina’s journey through this season made complete sense to me. It hurt to see certain things, but they were necessary in my eyes. Seeing her go from this essentially insecure but brave girl to a manipulated pawn to an even stronger and more self reliant girl in spite of everything was amazing. It did feel like a well-written hero’s journey and I’m looking forward to seeing where she goes next.

Apparently a lot of book-readers don’t like Mal (and I am not here to change anyone’s mind about that) but the Mal I saw on the show was amazing. I actually kind of wish we had seen more of who he was outside of his relationship to Alina (f.ex. other flashbacks than the meadow, maybe something about any of his missions while separated from Alina pre-show), but I also loved what we got of him with Alina. We still got to see a guy who was brave, stubborn, flirtatious, a bit judgemental but with a strong sense of humour, and a lot of loyalty (to Alina but also to his friends). I can hardly wait to see what’s next for him.

Milo the goat. Where do I even begin. Not only did we get that Jesper-scene, but their farewell actually became a Chekhov’s gun for Mal in 1.07? Milo is the true hero of the season.

Speaking of 1.07 I loved the tent scene between Alina and the Darkling. She both got to be realistic about her feelings for the Darkling and stand up for herself and for others and call him out. The way I interpret the Darkling, he is the kind of villain who creates a saviour narrative around himself but cares more about power than anything else. He’ll say he’s doing everything to protect his people but is the first to kill the very people he claims to love. And Alina’s tent-speech really hammered that in for me.

I adore Baghra. Is she morally dubious? Yes. Was she incredibly mean to Alina during training to the point where it might have been excessive? Yes. Did she not take any of the Darkling’s bullshit and act as the proper mentor for Alina when the Darkling had said that he was going to train her? Yes. Am I kind of a Baghra stan now? I mean maybe.

The antler-collar was so evil and gross but from a visually narrative stand point it was perfect.

Also I still have no idea who David is but I want redemption for him too. Honestly I feel like half the supporting cast is gearing up for redemption arcs next season and I am excited for most of them.

Nina’s reaction when she hears Kaz on the boat? Priceless. Actually the whole boat scene from when she goes up on deck again to the cut back to the fold was priceless.

That being said the final scene had me even more ready for season 2.

Jesper kind of gave me messy period-fantasy James Bond? Does that make sense?

And Mal kind of gave me Lois Lane energy? As in he’s the mortal love interest that many assume is the hero/heroine’s weakness but actually functions as their emotional strength and inspiration? Am I reaching here or am I getting somewhere?

Mikhael and Dubrov. What a duo. Absolute madlads.

Also I’d like to see more Nadia if that is possible? Because the few scenes we had of her had me intrigued but then she sort of disappeared? Is she going to be important or was she just more of a temporary supporting character?

I entered this show a casual Six of Crows fan with mild interest in Kanej and I finished this season a mess. A mess who ships Kanej and Malina and Genya with that David guy even though they had about 30 seconds of screentime together and Zoya with redemption and Jesper with main-character status (hey we’re not getting Wylan until season 2 at least) and kind of those two Ravkan army guys and Nina with anyone else and Matthias with a better redemption storyline and the Darkling with karma! Also, a mess with a whole new set of comfort characters!

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lovelylexipedia · 4 years ago

Note

I would love a jackson avery x reader fic where the reader is pregnant and jackson is running around after her at the hospital to make sure she isn’t putting too much pressure on herself so he takes her to the on-call room for a rest and it’s really fluffy because he talks to her belly? i’m sorry if this was really long! welcome to tumblr!🥰❤️

Rest is For The Weak – Jackson Avery x Fem! Reader

Type: Imagine (2,200+ words)

Requested: Yes! by @elljmaybank

Summary: Expecting her to stay home, Jackson leaves his pregnant wife home alone to go to work. When he catches her at the hospital, he does everything in his power to get her to stop and relax.

Warning(s): Grey's Spoilers, Fluff (lots of it!), Protective Figure, minor Angst

Note(s): Reader is 30 weeks along with Jackson's baby. Thank you for the request! I really hope I did it justice. I kinda rushed it at the end, but I hope it's okay :)

———

I hear the bathroom door close slowly and scrunch up my face. I try to fall back asleep, but the small noises throughout Jackson and my's bedroom keep me from it. After a while, I let out a small yawn and open my eyes, blinking to adjust to the light coming in from the rising sun.

I make an attempt to sit up in bed, but my back protests, sore and achey. I let out a small groan and catch Jackson's face pop out from behind his closet's doorframe.

"Y/n, crap, did I wake you?" Jackson winces, taking quiet steps toward my side of the bed.

"No no no, my back is just killing me, this little stinker won't let me get comfortable. I tried reasoning with him, but he won't give." I groan again, laying on my right side.

Jackson sighs in relief and walks around the bed to my side. He kneels down and kisses me on the cheek, running a hand through my hair.

"Maybe he'll listen to me." He leans down to my tummy, removing the white comforter covering my body and lifting up my oversized pajama shirt. Jackson taps at my tummy and I giggle at the sight. "Hey, buddy," He whispers, "you gotta let your Momma rest... She's already cranky enough."

I laugh and roll my eyes, pushing Jackson's shoulder, and causing him to stumble over. "Okay, maybe no more talk time for you."

Jackson steadies himself with a chuckle and and stands up straight. He brushes off his dark jeans and zips up a grey jacket, fixing up the hood.

"I made breakfast and happened to have some left over. It's just some eggs and toast. I put it in a little container and left it on the island if you want it later." Jackson says as he makes his way to the other side of the bed to grab his keys from the nightstand.

"Thank you, you gonna be okay leaving me here alone?" I ask as Jackson walks over to the bedroom door.

"I don't know, are you gonna be okay alone?" Jackson replies sarcastically. I grin. "Alright, if you need anything, you can call me and I'll try to get here. If you can't reach me, try my mom."

"Okay, okay'" I say quietly, pushing myself up to sit up in bed despite the pain.

Jackson notices and frowns. He walks over again and leans down to kiss me. "Don't do anything too strenuous, okay? Just get your rest."

I scoot back against the headboard and nod, looking him in his bright green eyes. "Okay, I promise."

"I love you, Y/n." Jackson smiles, kissing me one last time before heading out.

I yell back an 'I love you' and wave as he leaves the room. I hear the front door shut a few seconds later and sit in silence. Every few seconds, I shift and scoot around, trying to find a way to ease the aches.

Jeez, bud, parenting better be less painful than this. I complain to myself.

After a few minutes of sitting alone with my thoughts, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I set my feet down and push myself up, holding onto my belly with my free hand in the process.

I decide to take a few steps, wobbling here and there. After what feels like hours, I finally make it into the kitchen. The eggs and toast sit inside a clear plastic container and I nearly gag at the smell.

No thanks...

I take it upon myself to make myself breakfast. I throw out the toast and eggs in the trash can and ponder what to eat. I find a nearly finished bag of Corn Flakes and take a bowl, pouring the cereal and eating it like popcorn. After that, I snack on a frozen Pop-Tart and drink a glass of milk.

Settling myself on the living room couch, I flick through TV channels, bored out of my mind. Minutes pass by like hours and I end up falling asleep on the couch.

The nap ends after an hour and a half, when I suddenly feel a few sharp pains in my right side. I rub my stomach and lean my head back, trying to calm myself down.

You're okay, bud. You're okay, Momma's okay. We're okay.

I take deep breaths, trying to keep my composure. I grip the arm of the couch with one hand and force myself to stand. I stumble across the house, still rubbing my side and making small, calming affirmations to myself and the baby.

This is the fourth time this month...

I make it back to the bedroom and force myself to change into some baggier clothing. The pain subsides slightly as I begin putting on my sneakers. I groan, taking my set of keys and phone from the dresser in front of our bed.

I make my way around and out of the house, locking the door behind me. I force my keys into my pocket and dial my OB, Carina DeLuca.

"Y/n! What's going on? Are you okay?" Carina answers quickly, concern laced in her voice.

"I just wanted to come in... as a precaution," I say as I walk into the building's elevator. "I've been, getting these shooting pains for the past month. I just want to check if the baby's okay."

"Do you want me to make you an appointment?" Carina asks.

"No- I don't want Jackson to know, he might find out somehow. Could you just squeeze me in quickly?" I bite my lip, tapping my foot as I wait for the elevator doors to open at the bottom floor.

"Okay... Okay, I can try. Right now is perfect. Just tell the nurses up front it's an emergency and they should let you right in." Carina explains.

"Oh, thank you, Carina. You're the best. I should be there in a few." I gush, trying to rush off the elevator.

"Y/n, are you gonna be driv-" I hang up the phone before Carina can finish and try to rush out to my car.

———

"Carina, is he okay? Is my baby okay?" I ask urgently, looking between her and the ultrasound machine.

Carina continues moving the wand around where the pain would be. "He looks buono e sano, good and healthy, Y/n/n."

I let out a sigh of relief, laying my head back against the headrest. "Oh, thank God... But what could those pains have been?"

Carina purses her lips and removes the wand from my stomach, cleaning off the residue. "Could be stress, could be the hormones, different foods, your muscles could be constricting because they've had to work so hard with supporting the baby."

I shake my head. "Oh, I was so scared. I didn't want to go into early labor. Thank you for squeezing me in, I really appreciate it."

"No problem, amica mia. Now are you sure you don't want to tell Jackson?" She removes her gloves and I can feel her gaze from behind me.

"No, it's okay. I'm probably just gonna head home." I say, scooching off the examination table and grabbing my clothes to change back into.

———

I tug on my baggy shirt and put my phone in my back pocket, looking up to decide which way to go to get to my car.

Before I can even make a decision, Schmitt runs up, panting like a madman.

"Dr. L/n! We need Ortho. We got a trauma in, motorcycle accident, rider's right and left legs broken in 4 places each, right shoulder dislocated and left arm broken in two places."

He looks me up and down and his face grows red. "You're supposed to be on maternity leave, aren't you?"

"Doesn't matter now, Glasses. Let's go!"

Schmitt ushers me towards the trauma bay and adrenlaine rushes through me. The pain immediately evades my body and everything after is a blur.

I pull on a trauma gown over my loose clothes and tie up my hair into a ponytail. The patient is located in Trauma 1 and I rush in, finding Owem, Meredith, and Amelia already assessing the biker.

"Y/n! Shouldn't you be at home? I thought you were on maternity leave?" Amelia cocks her head to the side and I shake my head.

"Just back for the day," I say quickly. I turn to Schmitt, asking for reassurance, "So, what do we have here?"

He begins, "Multiple broken bones, bruising and cuts everywhere, he's practically roadkill."

"Well by the time we're done with him, he'll be just fine. Let's get an OR booked, order an MRI and page Plastics too!"

———

Jackson and I met when I transfered from Seattle Presbyterian a few years back. I was a 5th year and he was a Plastics fellow.

By the time I became an Orthopedics fellow, we had already established ourselves as the power couple of the hospital, despite not being a couple yet.

Wherever he went, I was likely to follow. Our cases were often linked and we spent a lot of our time together outside of the hospital as well.

When he first asked me out, it was during a surgery of ours together. We spent our one year anniversary watching over an ICU patient. He proposed to me in an empty OR after a successful surgery. I told him I was pregnant in the Attendings lounge. Our whole story was based in the hospital.

I wait outside OR 4, eyeing the elevator from the corner of my view. Any second now our motorcycle guy would be wheeled in and I'd get to scrub in.

"Y/n! Y/n!" I hear him yell from the elevator, trying to get my attention.

Oh shit.

Jackson jogs over to me, concern washed over his face. I frown slightly, feeling bad that he's so worried about me.

"Jackson, hi, um, how...how did you find me?"

Jackson ushers me into the scrub room and closes the door behind us.

"Y/n, you can't be working, remember? You're on maternity leave. Go home." Jackson grabs me by my shoulders, looking me up and down.

"Jackson, I am fine! It's just one surgery, it's not that bad-" I pull out from his grasp and cross my arms under my chest.

"'Not that bad'? Y/n, that surgery could take more than a few hours. You could barely get out of bed this morning!" Jackson's motions to the operating room, raising his voice and I sigh.

"Jackson, we will continue this conversation at home. Preferably, after I finish this surgery." I say stubbornly. I turn to leave and Jackson follows me. I spot Owen and Amelia walking toward us and smile. "Hey, where's the patient?"

Amelia sucks in a breath. "We're holding off on surgery. He's very touch-and-go, so we're holding him in the ICU until tomorrow."

The both of them frown at me and I nod sadly. "Oh, okay. Thanks anyway, you guys."

"Y/n. Let's go." Jackson says sternly, looking only at me.

"I hope it all goes well tomorrow."

———

My breathing steadies after I sit on the bottom bunk in an on-call room. Jackson shuts the door behind us and opens the shutter slightly, letting a bit of the setting sun seep into the room.

I keep my head down, eyes closed. Afraid he'll be angry at me.

We're silent for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say to each other. He starts first.

"Y/n, you know that I love you, right?" Jackson kneels down in front of me, I can feel his gaze resting on me.

"Yeah," I mumble, slowly lifting my head so we can meet each other's eyes.

"And you know that I'm taking your maternity leave so seriously because I want what's best for you and the baby, right?"

I groan and nod, covering my face with my hands. "Yes."

"Is it wrong? To want you both to be stress-free and healthy? Look at me when you answer, please."

Jackson takes my hands off my face and holds them, kissing the the backs of them before I respond. "No, it's not."

"Carina paged me, she said you came in. That you were worried about the baby. She told me he's okay. That you're okay." I can see tears forming in Jackson's eyes. He bows his head down and still clutches my hands tightly.

"Please, just promise me you'll take these last 4 weeks off. Completely. No work, no stress. Just bed rest and someone waiting on you." Jackson pleads softly, searching my face for an answer.

I lean in and kiss him softly. I take my hands out of his and wipe his tears from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just miss being at the hospital, on my feet, ready to go wherever I need to be. This little guy just sucks the energy right out of me." I chuckle, holding Jackson close to me.

He kisses the top of my head and rests his cheek there for a few seconds. "Can I talk to him really quickly?" Jackson asks quietly, I'm barely able to hear him.

I let out a small laugh, remembering this morning. "Go ahead, but no Momma slander."

Jackson grins at me and we sit beside each other on the bottom bunk. He lifts my fresh navy scrubs up to the top of my belly and I hold them there for him. He taps again, lightly and clears his throat.

"Hi, bud. You doin' okay in there...?"

We stay there, taking turns talking to the little guy, excited for the day where we get to call ourselves parents.

#grey's anatomy x reader #grey's abc #grey's anatomy #jackson avery #jackson avery x reader

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hanijunk · 4 years ago

Text

Alright boys, girls, and nonbinary folks of the world. It’s 5:36am (1/30 when I first started) as I decide to give up on my attempt to continue to focus on learning statistics, avoid studying for my two upcoming midterms, and put off my two actual essays for two different classes.

Instead we’re going into a dive about ✨ KazuFuuma ✨ . Is this me telling you you gotta ship it? No of course not, you’re entitled to your own ships! You don’t really gotta care about it as a ship. But I do want people to recognize it’s THERE canonically, and how disregarding it is extremely unfair to Kazuki as a character particularly. Also, I’m working on the assumption anyone clicking this at least knows the bare bones about what KazuFuuma (ex. You know they are a ship of Kazuki/Fuuma from Dolce, you know they are childhood friends, you know who Dolce is, you know about Honeyworks, etc.) I’ll be making references to specific things, but I won’t always go into heavy detail. Might just hope you know it or take my word for what it is, and go into analyzing it. Some I’ll put direct references to find, but some I’ll trust you can find it yourself. If you somehow read this MAMMOTH and want reference to a specific thing mentioned, hmu I can help you find it!!

Also I hate tumblr formatting sm if you legit wanna read this 7 page essay but hate tumblr format lmk I'll add it as a google doc link instead too. anYWHO

Before actually getting into the meat of things lemme preface some stuff.

Again it’s like almost 6am so this will be disorganized and very train of thought (and likely long due to the fact when I fly by the seat of my pants I’m known to get unnecessarily extensive). It’s definitely gonna be in large part why it’s important to recognize as a romantic relationship foundation and what about it shapes Kazuki’s character in particular. Maybe a bit of how it’s been built up and its general focus and implications. Dunno yet. We’ll see LMAOO

I say f*ck. Not a lot, just a handful of times. This ain’t something scholarly this is for my own enjoyment so if you don’t like that might not wanna read. And it’s not like spitefully I just curse a lot if you haven’t...read my tags before lol

Again this is through the lens of a Kazuki stan. Of COURSE I’m going to have some level of bias, but if anything that bias may help more than hurt because that means I become FIXATED and think a lot about Kazuki. Which plays into establishing just how important it is that Kazufuuma’s relationship is recognized, especially in a romantic light at this point. Lmfao.

I’ll have a few more prefaces about the actual content below but to keep this from getting too long if you wanna read come below the cut owo

I have extremely limited knowledge of Japanese just taking a few classes in highschool (so like 3 yrs ago) and live in America. This means a lot of my knowledge is gathered through the english translations of the super duper incredible and lovely people in the Honeyworks fandom who provide translations (delaix and takanenene esp have provided so much for me being able to understand Dolce) and my own limited Japanese paired with Google Translate for things that remain untranslated.

This only will be drawing on information I have come in contact with and have access to and making assumptions based on that, most (if not all) of which is in the public domain. So things like the Dolce Manga Volumes released via Animate, exclusive 4komas, and Light Novels are out of my area for the most part (apart from again snippets of translations thanks to this fandom’s godlike and generous translators).

I will not be drawing on anything from the first Dolce album with the exception of Nade Nade. From a meta standpoint, I consider those songs as songs made as performance media as opposed to character explorations. Nade Nade is the exception because (1) it was released a whole year before the album and (2) you can tell it’s explicitly an exploration of Fuuma and Kazuki’s interpersonal relationship even if it’s in a slightly more performance based context than the songs that came out with the Dolce LNs. Easiest parallel I can make to show this is if you held Non-Fantasy, Yume Fanfare, and Samishigariya up against each other, you could tell the difference in intended audience and intended purpose the same way the Dolce 1st album, Nade Nade, and the songs of the LNs do respectively. Even if there is some basis to ground Kazufuuma, for the purposes of this essay I’ll be acting under the assumption the 1st album falls under the Non-Fantasy equivalent category.

THAT WAS A LOT OF PREFACING CONSIDERING LIKE 2 PPL WILL PROBABLY READ IT I just have a tendency to anytime I do anything analytical lay down ground acknowledgements for myself to work on just...cuz it makes me feel less guilty for any accidental misinformation even if I’m writing towards my future self to read lolll IM SORRY WITHOUT FURTHER TO DO HERE’S THE BRAIN DUMP

First let’s go ahead and establish why it needs to be recognized as an important relationship. Again, I’m a Kazuki stan. He’s my favorite character not only of Dolce but also of the entire Honeyworks series, and as much as I love him for reasons outside the ship, whether you like it or not Kazufuuma is an essential aspect of his character and narrative. Of course there’s the fact that him and Fuuma are childhood friends, so that’s going to in part define their characters and interactions with each other and those around them. They’re both going to be relevant to one another and important to one another’s stories to an even greater extent than the rest of the members of Dolce. But on Kazuki’s side at least, it’s an EXTREME amount. A running plotpoint in Dolce Diary is the sheer amount of dedication Kazuki has to Fuuma and how much his thoughts and decisions are influenced by Fuuma, whether it be how he feels happiest spending time with Fuuma, how he decided to get his piercing to represent he wanted to protect Fuuma, how he doesn’t want to dislike food so he can eat what Fuuma dislikes, etc. Not to mention running jokes about his borderline overprotectiveness and downright possessiveness of Fuuma, how proud he is when Fuuma gets praised, or that one 4koma that literally explicitly states he can read Fuuma’s mind when he thinks motherfucking ‘dirty thoughts’ about his childhood friend (Fuuma). I still don’t know what the fuck to make of that last bit. Genuinely. Or the fact it’s a fucking running joke. As in it’s not a one off. It’s been brought up multiple times. Kazuki what the fuck.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t have character outside of Fuuma or he doesn’t interact with people other than Fuuma. He’s great friends with Sara, Girisha, and Kippei and is shown time and time again to have fun interactions with all of them, generally acting as the best support friend for every member of the group, not Fuuma alone. For instance how he helps Kippei with his self confidence issues or stays over at Sara’s to protect him from a cockroach (which he fails at lol). Nor is that to say all his interactions involving Fuuma focus solely on his devotion to Fuuma, especially in instances where the manga focuses on Dolce as a group dynamic (though even in that setting there are times where jokes about his devotion are thrown in). He’s kind, he’s stupid, he’s friendly, he’s an amazing character in his own right, and I love him for all those reasons. But that doesn’t change the fact a major part of his character and his character interactions are rooted in Fuuma, and arguably some of his most interesting, eccentric, and notable behaviors and traits revolve around Fuuma (again the mind reading for example).

Hell let’s take it one step further. If you look at the character bios of the Dolce members, you get everyone’s motives for being an idol and interests. Of them, Kazuki is the only one to have another character mentioned directly, not to mention that supporting Fuuma is explicitly stated to be his primary motive as to why he became an idol. Not even Fuuma’s sister is mentioned, though two arguments can be made for this. The first would be that Fuuma’s backstory about wanting to fulfill his dream for himself and his sister was decided later to explain Fuuma’s choice to crossdress though it can be argued it was intentionally done to leave it as a reveal at a later date, to which I would argue I don’t think this backstory was a choice in post. While Fuuma’s dedicated Dolce Diary extra exploring that backstory was released a little less than a year after Dolce was revealed, the preview to set up Fuuma’s backstory was actually the first thing released after the character bios on the Dolce Official Twitter page if you exclude a drawing of Dolce from Yamako. The second argument could be that information about his sister was intentionally withheld to set up the reveal when Fuuma’s extra released to explore it. However, going by that logic (which I do agree with), that would also mean that Fuuma’s inclusion and importance in Kazuki’s character bio also set up his dedicated extra, which I don’t think would be incorrect to assume considering what his actual extra turned out being.

Which brings me to the thing that makes it inexplicable to write off the romantic implications behind Kazufuuma: Kazuki’s dedicated Dolce Diary extra, Suki. I shipped Kazufuuma before even knowing of Suki, sure. But the fact that Suki even exists is a shock to me and drove into me the fact that Kazufuuma wasn’t just my own projection. Again, it’s not a surprise that Fuuma shapes Kazuki’s life. They’re childhood friends, of course they’re going to be important to each other. But this extra explicitly brought Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma under a direct spotlight. At first I was thinking oh, this extra was just to acknowledge the fact that Kazuki and Fuuma’s relationship can have romantic implications, but the end of it the conclusion that we got was that it didn’t matter what type of “like” he felt for Fuuma. Originally, I thought it wasn’t anything more than saying there are all types of like, and it doesn’t always need to be explicitly defined, but I appreciated the fact they were aware that they were writing Kazuki in a way that conveyed romantic implications.

Then I thought about it because, again, I love Kazuki of course I’m going to think about his character extra, and realized...that’s not how these character extras have worked. There are only three character extras out as far as I know and have read: Fuuma, Kippei, and Kazuki. If we look at Fuuma and Kippei’s, each extra had a conclusion, sure, but they didn’t have a resolution. Rather, they were simply setting up explicitly what each character’s primary character arc and conflict were. Fuuma’s extra brought attention to the fact that he’s particularly a crossdressing idol by exploring the motives behind it. His choice to be a crossdressing idol is constantly under fire both by himself and the world around him. He’s not immune to those who consider his crossdressing strange, and a part of his story is both finding people who accept his decision to crossdress and to succeed for himself as a crossdressing idol. It’s an essential part of how we understand and define him as a character and it’s a central part of how he interacts with the world around him. For Kippei, it lays the severity of his insecurity under the spotlight and his journey and motives for improving himself. Again, this isn’t something isolated and resolved in the extra; his extreme insecurity and negativity is constantly affecting how he interacts with practically everyone from his fellow Dolce members to his fans despite the fact in all honesty? He’s fucking insanely talented in his own right, his own brother mentioning how smart he is and how he has amazing reflexes. For Kippei, his negativity is an essential part of how we understand and define him and central to how he interacts with the world as much as Fuuma’s decision to crossdress is to him.

Which brings us back to Kazuki, of course. In his dedicated extra, in the chapter that’s supposed to explore and establish and bring attention to an essential part of his character, the aspect of himself under investigation is how he feels about Fuuma. It’s not just how he behaves around Fuuma, it’s explicitly an exploration of his feelings, on top of the fact it’s explicitly an exploration about whether or not he likes Fuuma r o m a n t i c a l l y. Literally the conflict is spurred on by someone outright asking “Do you like him?” and having to clarify “I mean romantically.” What they decided to focus on for Kazuki’s character and emphasize and establish is that Kazuki’s like towards Fuuma toes the line between friendship and romance. His ambiguous feelings towards Fuuma (if we leave them inconclusive as Suki did) are just like Fuuma’s crossdressing and Kippei’s insecurity in the sense the weight of whatever those feelings may be are seen in how he interacts with the world around him and influences his behaviors. It would be another story if they introduced the potential and shut it down all within the extra, because then his central conflict would to me be less directly open to romantic potential and more simply about how his arc was meant to explore the dynamic of the behavior of an extremely dedicated best friend. The fact that he may be romantically attracted to Fuuma or may be only platonically dedicated to Fuuma is instead something that looms over Kazuki in the same way Fuuma’s decision to crossdress constantly looms over him. It’s what Dolce wanted to point to and say this is Kazuki’s central character conflict and central arc: exploring what type of feelings he has towards Fuuma.

Sure, it can be argued that there’s only three Dolce Diary character extras, there’s not enough to be sure about that being the purpose of the extras unless we get the other two’s extras. First, at this point I honestly don’t know if or when they’re going to release an extra revolving around Sara and Girisha just because not only has it been over a year and a half since the latest Dolce Diary Character Extra (Kazuki’s) was released despite the gap between the first and latest Dolce Diary Character Extra (Fuuma’s and Kazuki’s) were within a year of release but also because the Dolce 4komas and comics they’ve been posting to Twitter have decreased (last one being over half a year ago) potentially due to them deciding to focus on releasing Dolce manga content through the purchasable volumes instead. (This is not particularly related to the Kazufuuma argument, just wanted to put out there my two cents on what Sara and Girisha’s extra/focal arc would be. Based on a large part of the Dolce Diary in conjuncture with Can’t an Idol Fall in Love, I’d argue Sara’s would be his journey to regain his passion for performing, and if it’s not that I’d say it’d be coming out of his self-imposed isolation and opening up to people again. As for Girisha, I have less of a concrete idea but I’m assuming it’d be something pertaining to how people often misconceive him whether it be in tandem with his determination, his optimism and sociability, or his stupidity/ability to ignore those misconceptions and work past them. But Girisha is treated like the comedic relief 90% of the time so I’m not entirely sure, but his primary conflict is definitely rooted in misconceptions of him being his roadblock imo. #MoreGirishaContentPlz) That being said, I personally feel like the three are already enough evidence, especially considering it would be honestly even more cruel for Kazuki’s character-centric extra to be focusing on something that wasn’t essential to his character and character arc, anyway. And though it’s not explicitly stated that these chapters are extras exploring a central character, you can kind of tell based on how they are (to my knowledge) the only Dolce Diary updates with cover/title cards each which include their focal character front and center. So working off that fact, the Kazuki-centric chapter established that a pillar to his narrative was his feelings towards Fuuma and that those feelings are still open to romantic potential.

But if you follow me, this is why up until Can’t an Idol Fall in Love With Another Idol’s release, I was terrified of them writing that off. I would have been ok if it was just an arc that was given attention then continued to actively work in the background, as all the character arcs have been over all of Dolce’s content. The fact that they might be giving Fuuma a love interest and giving Fuuma a love arc while Kazuki’s feelings were still up in the air and were still the primary highlighted narrative for him would have been fucking scuffed. To me, it would be like… why would they make him so Fuuma-centric to the point that even his dedicated chapter was not just focused on Fuuma but focused on the ambiguity and potential of him having romantic feelings for Fuuma, yet reduce him to being Fuuma's designated right-hand man. Don’t get me wrong, friendships are just as important as romantic relationships. But again, rather than conclude Kazuki’s answer in Suki to be that his feelings were of friendship, they left it open ended and allow audience members to be actively aware that Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma still had potential to be romantically coded. It would just be so weird to quickly close off that narrative by giving Fuuma a love interest as opposed to letting Kazuki conclude it himself. It would be fucking beyond frustrating for me, at least Eventually, I kept trying to drive my hopes that they would explore Kazuki’s narrative at all down to the ground because it was a Fuuma-centric novel; maybe if anything they’d explore those feelings in his own novel after the fact. But then they kept having little drops here and there of Kazuki being even the slightest bit relevant and I’d go back to questioning “Are??? They??? Is this on purpose??? Do they know what they’re doing or are they just doing this because Kazuki’s just so important to Fuuma as his best friend that he’s there as his right-hand I genuinely can’t tell???” And um. Welp.

Safe to say Can’t An Idol Fall in Love sold me on the fact that they know what they’re doing LOL. And to anyone who thinks that Kazuki’s feelings can still be read as ambiguous in CAIFILWAI as opposed to explicitly romantic - whether it be due to a fear they may pull the “I like him as a friend” card or due to the disbelief that they have an explicit mlm main character in the Honeyworks series - I’d like to cover any bases that may make you think this way. If you think it’s just Kazuki acting like a protective friend, why do you think he calls Yui a rival? If you’ve only seen the MV and think it’s ambiguous or can be taken as the "likfe" for friend, then does that mean you think Yui’s feelings toward Fuuma are also ambiguous or as a friend? With the way Yui responds, she is trying to rival Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma. She and Kazuki recognize whatever feeling it is that they hold towards Fuuma, both of their feelings are the same type. I don’t think most people would argue that Yui’s confession about Fuuma was one of pure respect and friendship. Plus, if anything I’d argue of the three characters in the MV, Fuuma is the one whose feelings are left the most ambiguous despite him being the central character. It’s heavily implied that he may be forming feelings for Yui, but nowhere is it established either in the song or in the MV, especially if you compare it to Kazuki and Yui’s declarations or if you compare it to Sara’s feelings for Uru in Can’t An Idol Fall in Love. Fuuma’s romantic narrative here is trying to figure out how he feels for Yui, while for Kazuki and Yui they’ve established a rivalry because they both have mutually established they like Fuuma romantically.

If the MV isn’t enough for you and Suki isn’t enough for you for...some reason…??? You can check out the snippets of the light novel which the wonderful takanenene translated: one which revisits the conflict set up in Suki and one that covers the confession scene in the MV in more detail. If the fact that the conflict set up in Suki (aka the lurking feeling of not knowing if all he felt for Fuuma was only platonic or more than platonic) was specifically reestablished in the LN for anyone who didn’t keep up with Dolce Diary didn’t tip you off that it was something important, his behavior in the confession scene as depicted by the LN definitely should have. He’s possessive about his spot by Fuuma’s side. He doesn’t want that spot to be taken by anyone else. Even if he knows that they can help Fuuma, he wants it to be him. And this line: “Kazuki then trails off his words, quietly saying ‘That’s why…’ and then gave Yui a slightly painful smile, his cheeks turning red,” before he declares Yui a rival and states he likes Fuuma. If you can tell me you read that line and are still on the fence about Kazuki’s “like” towards Fuuma being romantic, please message me and I will see how I can get through to you. Like it wasn’t even just a romantically coded confession. It’s just a romantic confession. That “like” is romantic. And I’m so proud that he’s not only come to understand for himself how he feels, but that he’s confident enough to ask the person he sees as a romantic rival to speak in private and not only clarify her feelings for Fuuma but before she can even do that firmly establishes that he loves Fuuma with conviction. Kazuki my boy I’m so proud of you. *sniffs*

And that’s it for establishing Kazufuuma as at least canonically one-sidedly canon and why there’s not only no reason to deny it but also why denying it is a fucking disrespectful move towards Kazuki. He’s a character, sure, but that doesn’t change the fact you shouldn’t write off his struggle to come to be convicted enough to say it out loud. This has been something weighing on him at least a year, if not more (all I know is it started when both he and Fuuma were in some year in middle school). And as a character in a piece of media, I’ve been saying this the entire time, but brushing it off as non-romantic is literally chucking a fucking pillar of his character’s story into the gutter. And to those who may be saying Kazuki’s confession came out of nowhere and is pandering reread this entire fucking essay again I dare you to do it and tell me to my face it’s pandering. Again. Writing off the buildup as pandering is disrespectful to him, disrespectful to his character and narrative, and disrespectful to the wonderful people who have been creating Dolce so diligently and have crafted this narrative for us. Saying his “supposed feelings” and “ambiguous confession” is pandering is like saying Fuuma’s crossdressing is pandering which. If you say either of those I will find you and I will shank you in the fucking gut. Even if you’re not fully into Dolce, recognize these characters are actually very well developed and executed amazingly, as per every Honeyworks character that has come to exist. I don’t blame you if you weren’t aware of the weight of Kazufuuma, but now that you read this I hope you are. That’s mainly what I needed to get out there, but as follows will be me more exploring how Kazufuuma has been built up and generally waving my hand off at where it may be going. If you want you can dip, thanks for reading up to here because I know I repeated a lot because it’s just. So important to drill into your head and has been something I’ve been hung up about constantly. LOL

As for where exactly they’re taking it from this point on, I honestly don’t know. In all honesty, I didn’t even expect them to take it the direction they did. But honestly, I think the direction they went with it is really interesting and better than I could have imagined, in my opinion at least. Honeyworks never ceases to amaze me with their storytelling and narrative choices, and I don’t think there’s any that stand out to me as being severely questionable that they haven’t reapproached at some point down the line. And, again, I think they’re treating this with a lot of care and deserved respect. So I’m just gonna be gushing about how smart they set it up and how smart they’ve been executing it and maybe my own hopes on the direction it could go.

Whether they make Kazufuuma reciprocated I have no real clue or bearings, but to me my gut reaction is they will. Of course, I’m biased, but again if you trace things all the way back to 2018 and step through Dolce’s content and growth from there, I’d say even if they didn’t know if they could execute it like this and see it to fruition, I’d argue that Kazufuuma has been at least heavily implied since the beginning as a relationship they wanted to explore from both sides of the relationship. Obviously I brought up Kazuki’s character bio already, but if you look at the *goes to count* 5th Dolce Diary update already has a joke jabbing at the fact that Kazuki is technically Fuuma’s type (and the way Kippei and Kazuki excitedly react is so cute). The fifth update. And as stated before there are tons of Kazufuuma moments in Dolce Diary, whether it’s played for comedic effect or played straight (and this is post Suki but oh my god I’ve said it before I’ll say it again get yourself someone who looks at you the way Kazuki looks at Fuuma oh my jesus). But song-wise, I mentioned the one Dolce album song I would bring up is Nade Nade and this is where it comes!

Not only is Nade Nade specifically focused on Kazuki and Fuuma’s relationship as opposed to the whole of Dolce despite being the first song, it included the setup/preview of the Fuuma-centric extra prior to the full release of the Fuuma-centric extra itself and was released early as fuck. Literally between the 6th and 7th update to Dolce Diary. Sure, it could be to isolate them as a duo for marketing purposes (they’re very often the two promoted idols together if the whole of the group aren’t included), but the way it’s established as a perspective song as opposed to a general idol duet is what fascinates me. Anyone who didn’t know about Dolce prior and only followed Honeyworks for music would be first introduced to these characters through this song alone, and maybe this is where my Kazufuuma bias comes from but I was one of those people LOL. I thought it was just a cute one-off relationship that they had set up for the purpose of a song and that it was an implied friends-to-lovers story that would never get a conclusion. Also I mistakenly thought Fuuma was a girl oop-. In the full context of Dolce, this song in part helped establish Fuuma and Kazuki more solidly as a unique duo out of all of Dolce, but it also specifically explored through Fuuma’s eyes just how much Fuuma recognizes and appreciates the unwavering support Kazuki gives him to follow his dreams as he wishes. For Fuuma, he loves Kazuki too, though whether it holds any romantic potential in the same way Kazuki loves him has never been explored to nearly the same extent. But Fuuma appreciates how Kazuki’s remained by his side and does everything he can to support him, so Nade Nade explores how his way of expressing his love and thankfulness to Kazuki is by never saying that he needs Kazuki by his side. He’s glad Kazuki’s always been there for him, and his reciprocation takes on the form of being ready to unwaveringly support Kazuki and not ask for more than he already has, even if it meant Kazuki would be leaving his side, despite the fact that he really does wish they could remain together forever just as Kazuki does. The one point he lets himself say something vaguely close to always wanting to stay together, he gets a surprised expression out of Kazuki and says an ambiguous “suki dayo.” Of course, this it much less romantically coded than what we get from Kazuki in Suki and CAIFILWAI, but there is an interesting emphasis put on it nonetheless. Keep in mind, this is all established through the song, which released long before not only Fuuma’s character-centric extra released but also Kazuki’s character-centric extra released, so there is at least a substantial setup for Fuuma’s feelings towards Kazuki’s being strong as well and possibly grow to be reciprocated one day.

I think for me the most fascinating part about Nade Nade is how they tied it back around to Can’t An Idol Fall In Love with Another Idol. Again, without remembering Nade Nade, I still thought CAIFILWAI was brilliantly explored and executed, even if some people would have preferred no love triangle. But honestly, revisiting Nade Nade makes me trust even more the direction they’re taking with this. Whether or not they make Kazufuuma canon mutually (which. Even if they for some inexplicable reason didn’t I’m going down with this ship.), I’m sure they’re putting a lot of thought into the story, because the last bit of Nade Nade directly parallels the misunderstanding that arose from Fuuma mishearing the Kazuki and Yui. Fuuma is resolved to support Kazuki in any area he’s given the chance, and that explicitly includes if Kazuki had some girl he liked, which is what he assumes is going on. The fact that they tied this back around in the form of a misunderstanding was really really smart and Honeyworks is always so good at parallels and references back to their older songs, but for some reason I didn’t expect this. I don’t know how to say why, but the fact that the song that started it all, kicked off both Dolce and Kazufuuma, was directly referenced both visually in the MV with a cameo at the start and narratively despite the central dynamic being predominantly explored in this story in particular was that of Fuuma and another potential love interest and involves said potential love interest for some reason makes me think that (sorry Yui) this is all planned out for Kazufuuma in the grand scheme of things. That being said, I don’t know if me thinking it was planned all along is just me with shipper goggles, but the idea it’s come full circle nearly 3 years later is not shipper goggles and a very very well done parallel in my opinion, whether this trajectory was their plan for Kazufuuma from the beginning or not. Just wanted to gush about that some more.

There’s more I could go into especially if I went into specific details about interactions or specific implications established in Honeyworks' Dolce content about different characters that would be fascinating to explore in relation to and under the lens of Kazufuuma, but I think this is uh...plenty long enough. Plus, I doubt you'll stop seeing Kazufuuma posts from me so those ideas will probably just be miniposts or somethin.

Back to the overarching point of this segment, idk what they’ll do with this story in the end, but do I think Kazufuuma will canon? I’m used to looking at ships that aren’t explicitly apparent with a sliver of skepticism, but all things considered (as I stated before) yeah. I don’t see reason why they wouldn’t now that they’ve explicitly identified there is a romantic dimension to it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Like to me, the setup isn’t something that would be written off as unrequited? And this doesn’t have to play into why I don’t think it will canon, my personal opinion on the Fuuyui relationship (again albeit through the lens of a hard Kazufuuma shipper lmao) has it’s own merits and is really cute, I find it cute in the way I found Koyuhina cute. I personally never really shipped Koyuhina, and especially since they slipped Kotarou into Ima Suki Ni Naru I was more curious about who this kid was and how he played into things I didn’t really see Koyuhina as something that would come to fruition. Similarly, there’s more importance in the overall sense on Kazuki than there is Yui (considering he’s one of the 5 original and focal members of this generation of idols, this would be natural), as well as the fact there’s just way more foundation and exploration in Fuuma and Kazuki’s relationship than there is Fuuma and Yui. As for how much of a balance there is inside the LN itself, the fact that they seem to have spent a substantial amount relaying the foundation of Fuuma and Kazuki’s relationship and re-exploring it (at least in Kazuki’s perspective) at all on top of how much content there is covering their relationship prior to the LN ever since Dolce’s origin just feels like that relationship holds more weight. Pretty much Kazufuuma feels more established as a priority in general. The way I personally hope Fuuyui plays out is whether they wind up holding mutual feelings or not or whether Fuuma doesn’t feel that way towards Yui is they get a relationship akin to Kotarou and Arisa. Albeit, Kotarou and Arisa never viewed each other in a romantic light, but they had mutual respect and solidarity. That’s the type of friendship I hope comes out of Fuyui. And considering there hasn’t been a break-up in any Honeyworks’ canon relationships (nor do I expect there to be… they’re all perfect for each other LMAO) it would actually be interesting if Fuuyui get together but don’t endgame and Kazufuuma is established as the inseparable endgame after some realization or another, though I don’t expect them to go that route nor do I know if that’d be the best way to go about it anyway. Also final point, Honeyworks seems to have a thing for childhood friends trope anyway soooooo owo All in all, don’t know where they’re taking it, just excited to see where it goes.

TL;DR of this *counts* 7 page essay, stan Kazufuuma. Not gonna proof this. Maybe I’ll edit and repost but yall are getting a confusing clusterfuck of ramblings over 2-3 hr periods of me writing across 3 different days at around 5am each day. Uh. If you got this far like and subscribe and-- jk plz reply to this mammoth anywhere you see fit or tell me if you have stuffs to add or counter or whatnot I like hearing people talk about Kazufuuma ;w; I am Kazuki and Kazufuuma brainrot can you tell after reading this? No? Lemme just remind you I’m K--

#honeyworks #dolce #kazufuuma #kazuki haiga #fuuma shirayuki #long post #analysis #character analysis #kinda?#nobody cares trash #also keep in mind this is PURELY for self satisfaction LMFAO read it if u wanna dont if u dont idgaf either way #anyway kazufuuma canon fight me #or have intellectual conversation with me #if you want it on a google doc bc it's easier to read hmu #if you can't tell i think about kazufuuma too much #how much of this is repetitive? probably a lot...

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weepingvoidpenguin · 5 years ago

Text

The Gods’ Blessing (Pt. 5)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,

Summary: In your world, everyone had a soulmate. That’s just how things went. Everyone had some sort of Indicator that their other half was out there, be it telepathy or a red string that connected these two strangers. Yours was one unspoken of, in fact, you’d never heard anyone say that they had the same Indicator as you. And because of this rarity, you longed to meet the person who could gift you with what you lacked, maybe not so much so to be with the person but more so to finally see what others took for granted. Yet, you held onto the hope that one of your best friends was your Meant-To-Be but he has his eyes on another girls and the little green monster slowly engulfs you at the deterioration of your hope.

Warning: Like 1 F-Bomb, angst, reader being reckless

Word Count: 4.3K

Author’s Note: I’m literally so sorry this took so long to come out but I lost motivation to write and randomly got it back and now I know where I want to take this story so I’m dedicating some time to this series again. ALSO I wanted to thank EVERYONE from the bottom of my heart who has asked to be tagged or complimented my writing it means SO MUCH and helps me continue to write. Everyone who has requested to be tagged will be; I’m just dumb and didn’t know I could privately respond to asks and I didn’t want to spam my page with answers so... yeah I know, I’m dumb lol ENJOY

(CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO FIND THE ORIGINAL GIF FOR MY STORY BECAUSE WTF I SPENT LITERALLY 30 MINUTES LOOKING FOR THE RIGHT ONE BUT COULDN’T FIND IT AND I USED THE SAME TAGS AS ALWAYS AND YES THE GIFS ARE STILL THERE SOMEONE HELP PLS AND THANK YOU) (AND ALSO LITERALLY CAN’T ADD A READ MORE LINE BECAUSE I COPY AND PASTE FROM WORD SO IM SORRY TUMBLR IS JUST TRYING ME TODAY)

You let the thunderous knocks at your door rack for nearly five minutes before you trudged out of bed with your blanket still encased around you. You kept your eyes glued to your carpet, watching as your feet slid along the floor on your way to the door. Your hand hovered over the knob as hesitation ceased your actions.

What if it was Peter at your door? Your heart twisted at the thought and you couldn’t stop how your hand shot out and grasped the handle. Damn how your body could betray you.

You noticed how your actions slowly became less your own over the past few days. Naturally, you could sit, lay, stand, eat, drink and etc. on command but whenever the thought of the brunette boy shattered its way through the walls you’d created, your hands flew towards your phone every single time. You had desired Peter, desired for him to reach out to you and clear the air, answer the questions consuming your mind, just talk to you in any way. Maybe his words wouldn’t make you feel better but at least his voice would soothe the storm brewing in your stomach.

You had skipped school the last two days, claiming to have a fever to your mother who, as a doctor, knew better. But she was an understanding woman and gave you the time she suspected you needed to deal with whatever was bothering you. She’d tried to get you to talk but each attempt was met with silence and isolation so she left you be, only occasionally leaving a warm drink on your nightstand.

You hadn’t just isolated yourself from your mother though; you’d completely disregarded the messages you were getting from MJ and Ned. You tried to keep away from your phone, in all honesty. You wanted to disconnect, to just feel what you felt and ride the wave until the waters soothed themselves. But with the amount of times you’d checked your inbox for a new message from Peter or merely went back to read old texts that used to bring a smile to your face, you’d say disconnecting had failed miserably. In fact, every time you checked your phone only made the sinking feeling in your stomach liven with a fresh ache and you’d lay right back down.

Your window remained locked now. For the most part. Some nights, for about an hour or so, you’d unlatch it, idiotically hoping that somehow Peter would be aware of your actions and know that you, in a moment of weakness, wanted to see him again. That your silent invitation had been noticed and he would come running to you. But, of course, it didn’t work like that.

You were released from the deep constraints of your thoughts with another set of rapping on the door. You sighed and brought yourself to look through the peephole only to be met with an eye already glaring through it. You let out a quiet shriek at the expression strewn about MJ’s face and slowly unlocked the door.

She didn’t wait for you to open it though, taking matters into her own hands and flinging the entryway open to storm through and slam shut behind her. You stood frozen, watching as she glowered with her arms crossed over her chest. You two stood in silence like that for a few moments and she continued to stare, waiting for you to give an explanation for your behavior for the past few days.

She knew better than to think you were sick. Even when you were sick you always messaged her back but this mood was something she had yet to experience in all her years of friendship with you.

“So?” She practically snarled and you gulped.

You scanned her up and down. She was entirely on the defense here. Her arms crossed, foot tapping on the ground and the disapproving look of the century plastered on her face all scrambled together to serve you one very pissed off MJ.

She waited for a response, not breaking her composure for even a fraction of a second. The anger radiating off her body was more than you could handle in the moment, especially when it was accompanied with the sorrow encasing your very being.

Her expression softened in the slightest as she studied you, noting how you couldn’t meet her gaze, not that it had been a warm one to begin with but still. Your hair was in shambles and the deep, dark circles under your eyes conveyed more than you were willing to bring yourself to admit. And when you finally looked up at her she took your desperate embrace with ease; all of her anger diminishing as she held you.

“Hey,” She soothed, running her hand up and down your back through the blanket, “what’s going on?”

You looked up at her, only slightly pulling back from the hug, “There’s something I have to tell you,” ~ That first day that you had kicked Peter out of your apartment he didn’t go on patrol that night. He was too distraught. Instead, he trudged home with his head hung low and his thoughts drowning him in regret.

He’d been weak that afternoon. He couldn’t help it. It’d been so long since you two had hung out together alone, aside from the rare occasion last week, and so much had happened within that time.

That first night, when the two of you kissed and the stars had come to life for the first time in his existence, everything in those few moments had been perfect; no, better than perfect. The world had burst to life under your touch and suddenly his years of yearning and longing for you had made sense. The world had been right and just for once. For one goddamn minute.

And then, because of that moment that he hungered to relive again, he’d lost you. Maybe permanently.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have just given in to the desire pining for your touch? He couldn’t have helped it. The way you looked, the smile gleaming on your face, the way you were straddling and hovering above him; it all called out to him. You called out to him. His eyes traced down from your eyes to your neck and then lower to the bit of exposed cleavage in his face. He blushed in the moment, feeling guilty for letting his mind wander to those treacherous places that caused his imagination to spiral. And, oh, how his thoughts spiraled.

That need to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to be with you had made him weak in the moment. But had it really been so wrong to give in? After all, you are his soulmate and if it were okay to touch anyone the way his body had urged him to, why not the person that he was meant for and was meant for him?

No, it hadn’t wrong to give in because from the look that glazed your eyes and elicited your body when you connected, he knew you wanted to give in too. He knew you wanted to be with him just as much as he wanted to be with you.

And that’s why he wanted to go over that day. He had planned to tell you everything. He even had his suit in his backpack to show you but then it all went wrong. He’d prematurely exposed the truth but in a way that made it seem secretive. He hadn’t meant to be secretive; he was just scared.

Plus, he finally had the girl he’d been working to get for the past few months and he had to just throw that all away. At that point, his feeling for Liz were real just miniscule compared to the ones he attempted to drown out for you. Not to mention, Liz liked Peter as he was without the hero complex but (Y/N) liked Spider-Man, a literal superhero.

Maybe that had been the reason that (Y/N) had kicked him out so quickly. Was she disappointed that her mysterious hero had turned out to be none other than Peter Parker? Was being Peter really that bad in her eyes? No, (Y/N) loved Peter . . . platonically.

But Liz . . . Liz liked Peter, not Spider-Man. (Y/N) didn’t want her shy best friend, she wanted her mysterious hero. (Y/N) didn’t like Peter for who he was, only who he presented himself to be. Her feelings were solely based on a hidden character under the red and blue suit. She didn’t want Peter Parker. She couldn’t want Peter Parker. Peter Parker wasn’t enough for her and he never would be.

He shook his head at the thoughts, hating how his conclusion could tug at his chest so fiercely. Nonetheless, he let himself fester on that idea until it became his mentality.

(Y/N) was not interested in Peter. ~ You could hardly communicate everything that had happened over the course of the last few weeks to MJ with all the tears and sobs interrupting the story. She caught onto the gist of it, though. Peter was Spider-Man, Spider-Man was her soulmate, Peter was with Liz, etc.

She let you cry until you fell asleep that night and she stayed with you the next day so she could force you to go to school, even if it was Friday.

Her alarm woke you up the next morning and you groaned as you shoved your pillow over your ear to drown out the sound. MJ rolled around, cutting the alarm off and cuddling closer to you before shoving you out of bed.

“What the hell?” You asked, reaching out for the pillow that was pried from your hold.

MJ held the cushion just out of your reach and dangled it in the air, “Good morning!” She cheerily shouted, very unlike herself.

You groaned in response and shoved the blanket over your head just for that to be ripped away as well. “Get up, you’re coming to school,”

A huff escaped your lips as the sunlight shone even from behind closed eyelids. You wanted to argue and stay home but you would just get hell for it and end up going to school anyway so you used that time of argument to get ready instead. MJ had woken you up early enough to let you shower, as you hadn’t recently, and made breakfast while you got ready.

In the stillness of your room, you observed your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were still puffy from the crying and there was a slight dry rash from wiping your nose so much but other than that, you looked practically normal. You ran your hands down your body, hating that you put in a little extra effort in your looks to catch Peter’s attention. In the midst of shamefully admiring yourself, you caught a glimpse of the pictures tacked onto the wall behind you. You whirled around and your gaze landed on the brightest of them all. A picture of the four of you sitting in the grass, MJ on one side of you and Peter on the other. You removed the tack from the photo and smiled down at it. The picture had been taken the first time you all hung out together, the same day you’d told MJ about your feelings for Peter only to be met with a knowing look from her. She could read you like a book that woman.

“Hey, breakfast is ready-” MJ burst through the door and cut herself off at the sight of you. “What’s that?”

“Do you remember this photo?” You asked, holding it up for her to see. Her eyes softened and she had a small smile, “I have this same picture in a drawer somewhere,”

“Do you remember what I told you that day?”

MJ looked up at you, her eyebrows furrowed as she waited for an explanation.

“That’s the day I told you that I thought I liked Peter,” She looked down at the photo and handed it back to you, “It’s like . . . since the beginning it’s been him. It’s always been him.” You placed the photo back in its original place, “And now I know why,”

Later that day in the cafeteria, the table had been full of tension. MJ throwing glares at Peter, Peter brushing them off his shoulder, your head crammed into a textbook, Ned trying to break the tension and Liz having no idea what the hell was going on.

“You guys are so cute together,” MJ cheerily spoke up after a while, looking at Peter and Liz’s interlocked fingers.

“Thanks,” Peter stated bluntly, his gaze fixated on MJ.

“I just didn’t think you would end up dating a guy like that, Liz, but now that I’m looking at it, it makes sense,”

“A guy like what?” Liz raised an eyebrow, concerned there was something about Peter that she didn’t know.

“A liar-”

“MJ, can you help me with this equation?” You interjected, hoping she hadn’t heard what MJ said.

“I don’t know why you’d need my help, you’re the best one here at math,” she slyly retorted, not once breaking her eye contact with Peter.

“I’ll help you,” Ned spoke up and the both of you exchanged worried glances. It suddenly dawned on you that Ned probably already knows Peter’s secret; which means, he already knew about you as well.

“Anyway,” Liz spoke up after a few tense moments of silence, “I’m throwing a party tonight at my place, everyone’s invited!”

“And why would we-”

“Sounds fun! We’ll be there!” You spoke up quickly, glaring at MJ to shut her up. She rolled her eyes but sat back in her chair and complied.

You’d kept your head down for most of the lunch period but had to snap your attention up to keep MJ tamed. Your gaze wandered over to the direction you felt a pull coming from and was surprised when you met Peter’s gaze. You were almost frozen, caught in a mixture of crying, panicking and keeping it together. Still, you couldn’t pry your attention from Peter so you dwelled in it instead.

He looked tired. The dark circles under his eyes were more apparent than usual and his hair appeared to lack a bit of life, the curls on his face falling flat rather than their normal bounciness. You let yourself study the man before you and that’s when it happened again.

Instead of his normal physique, an outline of his person took form and the wounds on his body glowed to catch your attention. He had a few cuts and scrapes here and there, some bruises on his shins and forearms, not to mention the busted eyebrow that you’d failed to notice under what you assumed was makeup. You squinted your eyes at this and Peter seemed to catch on to what was happening. He grew uncomfortable under your gaze and forced yourself to retract it, fighting the urge to reach out your hand and place it over the split skin on his face. Not that he’d appreciate it.

You sighed and closed the textbook before shoving it in your bag and standing up seconds before the bell rang. MJ followed suit and walked you to your next class, knowing you usually take the route with Peter and punched your shoulder lightly when it was time for her to go.

“Meet at my locker after school? I need help picking an outfit and we can stop by your place to pick some stuff up,”

MJ nodded in agreement and you turned to enter the classroom but walked into a hastily walking Peter. You reached out your hand to steady yourself and grabbed his forearm which, unfortunately, was not covered in fabric.

The warmth in your fingertips soon sprawled all over your body and you could moan at the ease it brought along with it. The ache in your heart subsided and the strength of the pull towards him tripled until you really were being shoved against him, your chest pressed against his own and his arms wrapped around you as if to keep you there.

You wanted to pull away but the fact that Peter was even holding you right now soothed the agony in your bones and you needed this for just a few seconds more. You let the sensation overtake you, submitting yourself to its enticing comfort and when Peter’s hands gripped the back of your shirt tighter to pull you deeper into him, you let him.

This was right. Being with him was right. How could it not be? How could being with your soulmate be wrong? The two of you were literally made for each other as were all soulmates but there resided something deeper between both of you that caused a very physical gravitational pull to one another. Though you’d heard of instances similar to that, you’d never heard of it being physical, only an emotional pull. And that physical pull somehow forced you two into each other’s arms where you were fighting the urge to give in.

With the little strength that you could muster, you pried yourself from him and you exchanged a worried glance with each other, “Did you-”

“Feel that? Yeah,” he said, bewildered at what just happened.

“So, you didn’t-”

“Pull you? No. And you didn’t-”

“Suddenly forgive you and throw myself into your arms?” You spoke with venom and cocked your head to the side, the little distance between you allowing some of your anger to return. “No,”

Peter wanted to roll his eyes and brush off the comment, he really did but he could see through you. The pain you tried to hide was laid barren for him, he couldn’t miss it if he tried. It shouted for his attention, demanding his explanation and wanting nothing more than to dissipate and leave you at peace. But he couldn’t grant you that. He couldn’t bring himself to beg for you when you didn’t even want him; at least, not the real him.

You finally walked away and took your usual seat in class, forcing your gaze down so you wouldn’t accidentally make eye contact with Peter as he took his place next you. You chuckled at that. ~ Liz’s house buzzed with energy, most of the people already arrived and under some kind of influence. You had to give it to her, she knew how to throw a party. Not that you’d been to very many of them considering MJ was your best friend.

MJ appeared beside you with two cups in her hand and offered you one, “Oh, I figured you were going to chug them down simultaneously,”

“Don’t tempt me.” She laughed and you took a gulp from yours, finishing it off in a few seconds, “Maybe you would like to do that, though,”

You smiled sheepishly, “I’m gonna get another one,”

“Make sure you leave some for everybody else,” she hollered over the music.

You giggled and sauntered over to the table, ignoring the beginnings of a lure coming from your left. You plucked one of the cups up and brought the brim to your lips, letting the liquid burn its way down your throat and rejoined MJ.

“Hey, so I was thinking,” you started, keeping your focus anywhere other than where it wanted to be, “where did you hear that story about the gods and the stars and all that?”

“Huh?” She shouted over the music and despite the volume of the noise, you could still filter out Peter’s voice through it all.

You grabbed MJ’s arm and pulled her towards the door, “Outside!” You shouted and she followed.

Once the fresh breeze hit your face, you took a deep breath in, attempting to clear out any negative emotions. MJ took your hand and led you away from the front of the house where quite a few people were still crowding around and settled on the rooftop. She grabbed a ladder off the floor and held the ladder while you climbed up.

“What were you trying to say?” She asked once you two had gotten comfortable.

“I was asking about where you heard the story about being chosen by the Gods,” you stated, taking a sip from the cup and already feeling a slight warmth in your cheeks. This cup was definitely stronger than the previous one.

She cocked her head a little and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“You know! About the Gods’ choosing a few special spirits to have this intense love or something,”

“What are you talking about?”

“Like, about my Indicator and the stars and my soulmate,”

Her eyebrow remained raised in your direction.

Now it was your turn to get confused, “The story you told me when we were all at your house watching movies. The day I went on the first date with Brad,”

“Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she admitted, a concerned look on her face.

“Yes, you do! You’re the one that told me that story, how could you not remember it?” you practically yelled. “When I got mad because of Liz and Peter and went to your room, that’s when you told me!”

“I remember you being bothered but I figured you needed a breather so I let you have it,”

Was it MJ that had told you? You scoffed, yes, of course it was. Who else would it be? She was the one that walked into the room and comforted you. “MJ, stop playing,” you scolded.

“(Y/N) . . . are you feeling okay?” she asked and you glared at her in response. “Dude, I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You shot up from your spot and struggled to find footing so you raised your arms to balance yourself. You had drunk a little more than you thought but managed to steady yourself. MJ held out a hand to you in caution, raising them to catch you.

“Something’s not right,” you said, taking a small step back from your friend. You were certain it was MJ in the room with you, the memory was clear as day.

The reason you had even brought it up in the first place was because you wanted to know where she heard the lore from considering you’d never heard anything like it. You had been ashamed of your Indicator because you’d never come to know of any other person who had the same one as you ever. Not even in the history books. It was just completely unheard of. So, why would MJ know the legend?

“(Y/N), sit down.” MJ ordered, her words concrete.

“No, no, no, no, this doesn’t make sense,” you spoke aloud, your mind trying to understand the events of that night. You took half a step back from MJ as if the added distance would deny her truth. And it was her truth. You could always tell when MJ was lying, years of friendship could attest to that but her words were genuine and her confusion was too.

“Stop moving, (Y/N),” she growled, slowly coming closer to you.

You created the same distance from you as before and she stopped her movements altogether, her eyes glued to the back of your foot. You tried to wrack your brain around it but no matter how you tried to understand it, it just didn’t make sense. How would MJ know the lore for your Indicator when you’d studied extensively to try and find something-anything to make you feel less alone in your path. How had she just randomly come across such information and why hadn’t you asked her right then and there where she heard it from?

“(Y/N)!” You heard your name shouted from behind you and whipped around, the force of the action causing you to tip over the edge of the roof and your heart stopped as you watched MJ jump out to catch you.

The fall was quick but scarier than any rollercoaster you’d been on. It elicited the same sensations but held more finality to it.

“(Y/N)!” MJ screamed from above but you kept your eyes glued to the ground when a figure swung into your line of sight and clung onto you in midair before landing on a patch of grass on the side of the house.

The action had knocked the wind out of you and you struggled to regain your breath, your eyes glued to your feet and how they rested against the ground. MJ flew down the ladder and raced with Ned to get to your side. She hadn’t even reached it before she started yelling at you.

“Are you fucking crazy?” She yelled, kneeling by your side and encasing your face in her hands, failing to draw your attention to her.

Your body shook uncontrollably, the fear from before just now catching up to you. But it wasn’t the fear from nearly dying. It was from whoever the hell you spoke to in MJ’s house.

“Can’t you see she’s scared?” Peter yelled at MJ and you winced. You’d never heard Peter yell like that before.

Peter picked you up and placed you in his lap, his hands attempted to center you in on him but you merely looked through him. You were out of it and you couldn’t bring yourself to come back to the present.

“(Y/N),” Peter whispered, worry and fear laced in his tone, “Are you okay?” It took a minute of letting the fear make its course through you before you zeroed in on Peter’s expression. It was the warmth coming from his hands that brought you back.

“Who was she?”

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thedevildomdaily · 3 years ago

Text

Demonic Possessions Ch 8: Pizza, Prizes, & Panic

Note: Here’s the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

If you follow this page, you're seeing things correctly! There were in fact TWO chapters posted this week. It's a 'thank you' for being understanding about my hiatus. I appreciate the support.

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW implied, light stuff

Saturday morning arrived and The House of Lamentation was on the quieter side. No arguing nephilim or brotherly squabbles to grate on another’s nerves. Early risers like Lucifer, Satan, and Beelzebub were in the dining room awaiting Lilly’s breakfast. The four of them were always the first ones up, leaving the other half to crawl out at various times.

After giving the typical 30 minute wait, Lilly gave the go-ahead for Beel to dig in. She’d learned long ago not to serve all the food at once on the weekend, preparing for stragglers vs Beelzebub’s appetite. She did find it unusual that Leviathan was missing. He must have pulled an all-nighter waiting for some special or doing a special walk-through for Deviltube.

*************

Leviathan opened his eyes slowly. He was so exhausted and felt on the heavy side. There was also this nagging feeling that someone was talking about him.

Shuffling around in his bathtub bed, the demon realized that it wasn’t his imagination that made him feel heavy. It was the nephilim snuggling on top of him that was passed out.

The female nephilim just about fell off the bench as she grasped at her own heart. Of course he’d say something extremely otaku in this situation. And after a moment to think on this, she nodded as she stared straight ahead, “I'm not seeking-out multiple relationships intentionally. But I can't deny the temptation of that fantasy either..." she chuckled, "You know what Levi-kun. That’s exactly it. I want a reverse harem life. I spent centuries vying for suffrage right. Letting women take a stand for equality. Voting, working jobs outside the home, and for fucks sake the right to wear some jeans! So why can’t I have a harem on my own when Mr. King Solomon saunters around, leaving a city’s worth of women back home!!!!!!?!”

“Mmmmh…” Lena nuzzled against his chest, making Leviathan’s heart want to explode from all of this contact. He suddenly recalled a lot of sounds like that just now as well.

“Lena...you’re on top of me…” he said a little louder.

Her sky blue eyes slowly peeked open. A view of a blushing demon beneath her slowly became clearer. “Oh, good morning Levi…” Her left hand ran up his firm abs, caressing him sensually as she nuzzled him again. “You’re so comfortable to snuggle with. I think I slept better on top of you than I did in Asmo’s bed the other night.” There was a soft giggle and she closed her eyes again.

Leviathan didn’t know what to make of that statement or the state in which they were in. Pulling his blanket down from them, he realized Lena wasn’t wearing her shirt and neither was he. Images of her stripping him of his signature hoodie and undershirt flashed before his eyes. She kissed his chest and ran her tongue across…and he dared to remove her top! The bra...it was his hair color!

“Aaaagh!” he shouted in a panic.

“What’s the matter!?” Lena raised up, completely straddling him. She looked around the room and everything looked fine. She then looked down at the demon beneath her. “Are you okay? You’re not sick are you?”

“N-nooo….” he murmured, covering his crimson face with his hands.

She looked at him curiously for a moment, then realized what was going on. It was the shock of spending the night with someone. He probably thought he dreamed it all. How adorable could Leviathan get?

Setting-up completely, the nephilim looked down at him, then ran both hands up his torso, feeling that ripped, swimmer’s body of his. Gently, she removed his hands and asked for him to look at her. “Leee-vi kuuun….” His eyes opened. She was so sexy and beautiful; her eyes were hypnotizing.

“Wasn’t last night fun?” she asked. Levi nodded rapidly.

“I-it was fun.A LOT of fun…” he admitted. It made Lena giggle.

She took his hands and brought them up to her waist. “Levi-kun. You know now you can touch my body all that you want right? In fact I really want you to.”

Absent-mindedly, Leviathan felt up and down her sides and even dared to grip the nephilim’s ass. It was so firm, yet soft at the same time. It made her gasp and bite her bottom lip.

Lena lowered herself back down on him, pressing her breasts against his bare chest. “Your hands are so big and strong. You’re so incredibly sexy…”

He doubted that wholeheartedly, and yet there was a half-naked 3D woman, the prettiest he’d ever met on top of him. “L-Lena…” He moaned lightly as she kissed his chest again.

“I’d love to continue where we left off last night, but I probably have morning breath…” she pouted at him, but kissed his chest again. “Want to shower together?”

The question caused the demon to fully sit up and nearly toss the nephilim backwards. The sheer thought of him being naked and wet with her was more than any close-in otaku could take. As a precaution, Levi pinched his nose, knowing blood would gush out.

“No Lena….don’t say things like that!!!!” He whimpered.

She couldn’t help but give an evil little chuckle, “You don’t want to? But last night you dove face-first into my tiddies with an itadakimasu. I thought you’d love to get wet and wild with me today!!”

Truth was, although they did make out a lot and he did carry her to his bed. It took a moment, but Levi mustered up the courage to take off her shirt. He kissed and rubbed his face into her boobs, and then he went for the unhooking of the bra.

It was the saddest struggle she’d ever been involved with. He then cried into her chest after all the failed attempts and passed out. If he couldn’t recall that travesty, Lena wasn’t about to refresh his memory. She’d surprise him and not wear one next time. Or maybe she had a front-opening one for starters?

“Don’t tease me about it…” he whined, “I really went beyond my limits last night…”

“Plus ultra babe…” She couldn’t hold back her smirk.

“Stop it!”

“Never. It’s not my way of the ninja…”

“You’re not funny.”

****************

After playing around with Leviathan a little while longer, Lena urged him downstairs. They were both ravenous after all the fun they had the night before.

The two of them entered the dining room and felt eyes upon them. ALL eyes.

“WHAT. THE. HELL!!!!?” Asmo squealed at the top of his lungs.

Mammon, on the other hand, was silent. Dead silent. The rest gave the two of them a once over, save for Beelzebub. He did pause, but his dire need for food out-weighed any curiosity he held for the reason that Lena was a disheveled mess in Leviathan’s hoodie.

“Ah-hmm....I take it a congratulations big brother are in order?” Satan asked in a catty manner as he sipped his cup of coffee.

Leviathan was tomato red and his teeth were clenched. He had no idea how to respond to any of this, but somehow he had the urge to fight everyone if they said anything to Lena.

“Maybe so…” Lena said nonchalantly as she led Levi to his seat, holding his hand. She sat in the empty seat beside him, acting completely calm.

“You guys look so cute together, although I’m totally jealous and wish I could’ve joined the fun last night…” Asmo chimed. Lena giggled at him, but Levi gave him a glare. He’d never share her like that.

Finally, Lucifer had something to say on the matter. “Leviathan. Either ask for your jacket back or find another high neck top to put on later. Your love bites are unseemly…”

“My wha?”

Most of the brothers began to chuckle as Levi looked down. Mammon was roaring at his little brother the most.He was in his low neck tank. Lena had given him hickies all over and he never checked himself over for any.

“W-why didn;t you say anything?...” he asked the nephilim.

“Oh, I thought you knew…” she responded nonchalantly, “I mean, did you see the ones you left on me?”

Mammon wrapped his arm over his brother’s shoulder and pulled him over in a brotherly manner, “I’m happy for you lil bro. If you need any advice, just ask The Great Mammon. I’ll help you out!”

“What advice could you possibly give?” Belphegor called out to Mammon.

“What d’ya mean by that you lil brat?!” Mammon responded.

A lot of bickering began around the table. Leviathan was so embarrassed until a firm hand squeeze brought him to look at Lena.

She merely gave Leviathan a wink and continued to eat her breakfast. This made his face glow, but he managed a small smile. It also gave him enough courage to ignore his brothers through the rest of their meal.

***********

“So did you guys go all of the way?” Asmodeus was the first to ask. He followed the girls to Lilly’s room where they both got ready for the day. And of course they talked about the hottest gossip the house has had in a long time.

“That’s none of your business Mister!” Lena responded as she sorted between outfits.

Lilly lectured the demon for being too nosy, but they both watched a happy Lena decide on her clothes. The two smiled at each other, giving a knowing look.

“I can’t help but to ask,” Lilly finally spoke up, “What was he like?” Asmo perked-up, ready to learn everything.

Lena sighed, but her smile remained, “He was so sweet. Definitely terrified. But the way he kissed was so...gentle…” She gave a little sigh. “I honestly feel both happy and guilty at the same time.”

“How so?” Lilly asked.

Lena furrowed her brows, trying to find a way to describe it. “He was so nervous. But I find him so cute. And I feel guilty that I liked him...squirming around a bit. I’ve seldom been with a submissive male before. Or a nervous one.”

“You like it. So what?” Asmo commented, “There’s nothing wrong with that. No force was there?”

“Of course not. I even bluntly asked for consent and he pulled me into his lap!” Lena’s eyes widened and she covered her hand over her mouth for a moment. ‘You two better not say anything about this to anyone. You hear me!” Her eyes began to glow with killing intent, leaving both the demon and human nodding. “Good.”

Lilly thought about things for a moment, before asking a serious question, “Are the two of you dating now?...are you a couple?”

The nephilim thought about for a moment before responding, “Well, we really didn’t do a lot of talking about it...things just happened…”

“Do you want to be in a relationship with him? You definitely need to be upfront and talk with Levi about it before going forward with anything.” Lilly just wanted her new friend and Levi to remain happy and on the best of terms as possible.

Asmo, for the first time, looked at Lena with a serious expression. “Lilly is right. You need to talk to my brother about this as soon as possible. I’m the last person to be serious about this kind of thing, but Leviathan is the Avatar of Envy; the Admiral of the Devildom’s navy and when he’s mad enough he can summon Lotan to drown and destroy nearly everything in its path. Be careful.”

Lena took their words seriously. She really didn’t think things through before starting things with him. They had valid and, to be honest, horrifying points.

“I believe I’ve mentioned this to the both of you at one point or another. I’m not the type to be held down to one great romance. Not after my last relationship. And NO. I do not want to talk about that. Not ever!” She closed her eyes and sighed, “The best I can do is be honest with him and let him know that. I want an open relationship and I won’t go any further with him if he can’t accept that. I’m not going to make false promises or put effort into something I don’t want.”

Her eyes fell upon Asmodeus. The two of them were rather flirtatious enough. And to be honest, that night she’d have definitely went all the way with him had she not been so intent and excited about the gifts she had for Leviathan. He smiled back at her, although there was a darker look to his eyes. He definitely sensed what was on her mind.

***********

“Levi-kun, let’s go on a lunch date today.” Lena said when she entered his room. Both he and Mammon were playing Luariogi-cart with Belphie asleep as he waited to play the winner.

The sudden request caused the otaku demon to crash; he was frozen. Of course Mammon shouted and cheered, taking the win and began to gloat about it and tease his little brother. Belphegor yelled at him for waking him up and threw his pillow at him.

“D-d-d...d-d-DATE!?” Leviathan stuttered, sounding like he was being electrocuted.

Lena giggled then picked Belphie’s pillow up and slammed it into Mammon for his laughter at Levi and then puffed it up and gave it back to Belphegor. “Yes, a date. I would like to go out with you today..to get more acquainted and to see where things go. I’ll meet you down in the Foyer in half an hour. Casual dating attire only. I want to go to the arcade for sure!” She winked at the demon and waved at everyone before leaving.

Levi was catatonic again. Mammon and Belphegor exchanged evil grins and let their brother stand there for a few minutes before saying anything.

“Don’t you need to get ready?” Belphegor asked in a knowing tone.

“Yeah, for your d-d-d-date!? Ha ha!” Mammon mocked.

This caused their brother to panic, then yell at them to leave. He had no idea what he should wear, what he was supposed to do or anything. It was an absolute nightmare for the reclusive demon. He never pictured himself in this situation. The closest thing he’d ever been to a date was when he went to themed cafes or idol concerts, admiring his favorites from afar.

**********************

When Leviathan began down the stairs to the foyer, he stopped the moment he laid eyes upon Lena. She was standing there, waiting on him, in a cute black dress that had glowing jellyfish on it. She wore purple stockings and goth boots. She matched her aesthetic to match his. It made him blush.

Lena was looking at her DDD, researching where they could go and what they could do together. She was admittedly nervous after the conversation she’d had with Lilly and Asmo earlier. Who knew dating a demon could be so dangerous?

Feeling eyes upon her, the nephilim looked up to see Leviathan frozen on the stairs, blushing and staring down at her. “Well, hello there gorgeous.” She smiled and winked at him. “You ready to have some fun today?!”

When he only nodded and stood there, Lena ran up the stairs to meet him and took his hand, “well then let’s go cutie!” and pulled him with her.

“C-c-cutie…” he whispered, smiling to himself.

***************

Lena and Leviathan decided to get Screamin Berry Swirl slushies and hit the arcade first. The nephilim decided to start with things the demon was both familiar and comfortable with. She truly wanted things to work between the two of them and she also didn’t want him to be on edge the whole time they were together.

“Are the top 10 scores on this game all yours?” she asked.

“Of course they are. I’ve dominated the scores since they got this in.” he boasted.

Lena smiled and joined in laughter with him. “My favorite arcade games back home are the Dino Park Disaster games where you have to take down carnivores and outrun stampedes. Pretty much any shooting arcade games. Oh and racing ones. Pinball games as well…”

Listening to her go into a list of favorite arcade games brought a strong sense of joy in Leviathan’s heart. She really knew her stuff. And it seemed she was genuinely interested in hearing about all of the achievements he held in the games at the arcade. It made him feel a connection to someone that he hadn’t before.

“Hey, look!” Lena jumped with excitement after picking-up a massive sci-fi gun to an alien shooter game. “This looks badass! Let’s play two-player!”

********************

“That was so much fun! Look at our ticket haul!” Lena exclaimed. She was definitely in the moment, having so much fun with Leviathan.

“That was the only game I didn’t have a high score because none of my brothers or anyone could keep up with me.” Levi added.

The two were sitting down at a booth, counting their mega stacks of tickets, eating pizza and cheesy bread. “We make a great team!” she cheered, making Leviathan blush as he slurped his slush. He thought so too.

“If there’s a way for us to play human realm MMORPGs and other games like that here in the Devildom, I have a few that we need to team-up in. I don’t like to play with strangers...can't rely on them too much. I have a couple of friends from school that play and I think you’d get along with them well enough…”

This felt like a dream. He was on a date with a 3D female. One that was enthusiastic about anime, manga, comics, collecting memorabilia, and video games. Leviathan just watched and listened to Lena while in a dreamy-like state of mind.

After a while, the nephilim realized she’d been the only one to talk. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I kinda went off the deep end with excitement there….”

“No, I totally wanted to know what games you play!” Levi chuckled, “It’s so cool to finally have someone that wants to talk about non-normie things! And I’m really curious about these human realm games.”

The two talked shop for a while longer, then cashed their tickets in. Lena got a giant stuffed purple dragon creature that actually puffed smoke from it’s nose and mouth. It had ominous, glowing eyes that was totally something Lena would choose. She also got a matching dragon wing headband.

Leviathan chose some more figurines and a wall scroll of a Devildom anime icon. It was on the more colorful and cute side. It was a funny dynamic to see a demon with cute items and a half angel with scary monster stuff.

“Levi...you’re having a lot of fun today aren’t you?” Lena asked as they exited the arcade. She was looking down at her boots as she walked, not wanting to look at the demon. She had been weary of bringing him out since he’d made it clear that he was a shut-in and hated leaving his room.

There was hesitation, but Levi nodded and looked to the girl at his side. “I am…” There was a split second pause before he panicked and asked, ‘Are you not?! I bet you were bored; just being nice at doing this because I'm just a worthless otaku nerd!” He began huffing and wheezing as Lena stared at him wide-eyed and confused.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA dude. Chill!” She finally said, pressing her hand against his chest. She was sure he was about to have an actual panic attack and keel over. “Your brain is going into overdrive hun. I’ve had an absolute blast with you today. It’s been fun and refreshing and I’m loving getting to hang out with you.”

She wasn’t able to see his eyes, beyond the indigo bangs covering his face, but she could tell Leviathan was blushing and possibly staring down at her hand. She stepped in close and gave him a hug. “I would’ve been honest with you if I wasn’t having any fun. Trust me on that.” He nodded and hesitantly pressed his hand against her back, returning the hug. Lena couldn’t help but grin to herself at his trembling hand.

Pulling away, the nephilim took his hand and led him away from the Arcade, looking for a bench to sit on and watch a pretty fountain. It was the perfect atmosphere for their date she thought. A great place to talk quietly about their relationship.

“Levi, I want to be honest with you…” Lena began, “I want to talk about us...if you’d like there to be us.”

“Us…” he pondered for a moment and then bit his lip. Leviathan never thought he’d have a conversation like this. He’d never felt more nerve-wracking.

The nephilim gave him a moment to process before continuing, “Before we make any decisions, I want to be forward and honest with you. I think that’s the most important thing about a relationship. Keeping an open dialog with each other and always being honest about our feelings...ok?”

Leviathan was still reeling on the idea that there was a possibility for them to be an ‘us’. After she shook his arm to get his attention, the demon gasped and then nodded, “Uhm...yes. That’s good…”

“The thing I wanted to tell you first and foremost is where I stand on relationships in general.” She was beginning to feel nervous, thinking about Lilly and Asmo’s advice. “I believe in open relationships...especially since we are eternal beings...forever is a long time.”

The demon’s eye widened just enough that Lena could see them. He was still. “So you’re like Asmo….totally into being lots of other people…?”

“Well, comparing myself to the Avatar of Lust is a little extreme, but sorta.” Lena bit her bottom lip and shifted around uncomfortably. She was self-conscious about this part of herself, but nonetheless she wanted to be open with him. “I-I uh understand if it’s not something you’re okay with...it’s why I wanted to say something up front before we established a….deep connection…”

And there went Leviathan’s poor demonic heart again. Ready to yeet from his chest.

“You could totally see anyone you want to...both in reality or otherwise. However, I can’t promise you complete monogamy. It’s just not my nature. And I don’t want you to ever get upset if I choose to flirt and mingle with someone else.”

“So you are telling me...you’re interested in….living your life like…” Leviathan said quietly. Drawing it out made Lena’s eyes widen with anticipation. “Like a….REVERSE HAREM!?!”

The female nephilim just about fell off the bench as she grasped at her own heart. Of course he’d say something extremely otaku in this situation. And after a moment to think on this, she nodded as she stared straight ahead, “I'm not seeking-out multiple relationships intentionally. But I can't deny the temptation of that fantasy either..." she chuckled, "You know what Levi-kun. That’s exactly it. I want a reverse harem life. I spent centuries vying for suffrage right. Letting women take a stand for equality. Voting, working jobs outside the home, and for fucks sakes the right to wear some jeans! So why can’t I have a harem on my own when Mr. King Solomon saunters around, leaving a city’s worth of women back home!!!!!!?!”

Lena shook her fist in anger thinking about it. She could do what the fuck she wanted with whom the fuck she wanted damn it. “But in all seriousness. Levi…” she returned her attention to the demon, “I’m giving you the option of being my first ever demon lover. I will be as committed to you as I possibly can. You can’t even begin to imagine the benefits of that. You just have the right to know what you'd be getting into if you want to be in a relationship with me.”

She let him stew over those bold words for a while, resting her head on his shoulder gently as she watched the dancing waters before them. “I really like you Levi…”

“I...like you too Lena...chan.”

His head gently rested atop hers. The two sat in silence as the imitation sun of Diavolo’s slowly disappeared from the Devildom sky.

**************

It was dusk by the time Leviathan and Lena returned to The House of Lamentation. The two stood outside the front door like high-schoolers not wanting their date to end. Lena took both of Leviathan’s hands, while their prizes sat on the steps. “Thank you for a lovely date at the arcade today. It was a lot of fun.”

“Your welcome….” Leviathan was looking away from her, completely embarrassed. She was the one that asked him out and planned the whole day. He should thank her for even considering a date with someone like him.

Feeling that he was about to go deep into unsavory thoughts, Lena stood on her tiptoes and kissed the demon. It was soft and sweet. Just like him. “Hey, we can do more of what we did last night if...we can sneak past all of the others…”

Wide eyes stared at the nephilim. If there was something Leviathan wanted, it was definitely more of what they did last night. Just imagining the feeling of her….and the way she….and how they both…

Leviathan in his boldest move of his eternal life, grabbed their loot in one hand and took Lena by the other and raced inside the manor. No man, demon, nephilim, or ghostly was gonna keep this otaku from getting to feel 3D oppas again!

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thathopelessromantic · 3 years ago

Text

Reckless Good (3/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Fic Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku

Note: Thanks so much for the great response so far! And if you haven’t already, please check out some of the other great pieces for the TDDK Big Bang this year!

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family’s history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he’ll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x) Chapter One: (X) Chapter Two: (X)

Shouto is, regrettably, not unfamiliar with the process of checking into the hospital, or the protocols in the burn unit, but things seem to go surprisingly quick with a doctor at his side, explaining not only the extent of his injury but the cause. Just a few moments after they’ve arrived, Shouto is whisked away from Dr. Midoriya and Kou to have his burn cleaned and dressed. They run the usual battery of tests, poke him for blood what feels like a dozen times, and after about half a dozen reassurances to various doctors and nurses that, yes, he does know how to care for a burn at home, he’s told he might be able to go home later that night.

The room he’s put in is, admittedly, one of the nicer hospital rooms that he’s visited. It’s part of a private wing made specifically for pro-heroes to get a little peace from fans and the media while recovering, but it doesn’t make him hate it any less. He’s only been alone in the room for twenty minutes or so, but he’s already contemplating a prison break. Let Momo handle the paperwork for his unconventional discharge on her next day at the office and call it good. But the risk of being put on some extra mandatory leave is too great. His doctor and Momo have been on his case about taking care of himself properly for months now and they’d love any excuse to bench him for a few extra weeks, instead of the couple of days he’ll need for the burn to heal enough that he can cover it securely and get back to work.

There’s a short knock on the door. Shouto starts to mentally prepare himself for another argument with a doctor when the door inches open and Kou peeks in. Surprised, Shouto waves to her. Kou smiles back, turning to motion at someone behind her. A moment later the door opens the rest of the way and Kou rushes in, followed by Dr. Midoriya.

“Dr. Midoriya and I are on a secret adventure.” Kou announces in a whisper. There’s a Uravity-themed spacesuit sticker on her cheek and she looks as if she’s recovered from the evening’s events, but her clothes have been replaced by a colorful hospital gown and fuzzy bathrobe.

Dr. Midoriya hasn’t changed his clothes, but he has a white lab coat on over top.

“Oh? What is your secret adventure?” Shouto asks. He shifts to the side and makes room for Kou to climb onto the bed besides him.

“Visiting you!” She announces, happily. “It’s a secret because I’m not supposed to leave the quirk ward, but Dr. Midoriya snuck me out. This is for you. Dr. Midoriya said you were friends!” She pulls two more stickers out of a pocket in her robe and hands them to him; a music note that says Earphone Jack and a nesting doll in Creati’s costume.

“Thank you,” Shouto says genuinely, though he has no idea what he’s going to do with the stickers. But his mind is distracted by Kou’s other words. The quirk ward? Obviously there was a reason the villains had targeted the girl, but that detail had gotten buried in the chaos of everything else. Now he’s reminded of the villain’s words…something about her being the key.

He looks up but Dr. Midoriya meets his eye with a subtle shake of his head.

Shouto lets the subject drop for now, but he’s determined to stay a part of this investigation. He’ll get his answers eventually.

Turning back to Kou, he tries a hesitant smile. “Would you still like that autograph?”

Her whole being lights up. “Really?” She reaches into the pocket of her robe again only for her face to drop. “Oh. I forgot my notebook.”

Dr. Midoriya taps her on the shoulder, holding out a small, heart-shaped notepad and a glittery gel pen.

Kou gasps, taking the items from him with excited thanks. She flips through the notebook quickly looking for a blank page, and Shouto is surprised by how many signatures she’s already amassed. Satisfied with the location, she hands the notebook and pen to him. She’s practically vibrating in excitement as he writes a quick note to her, trying to make it sound a little more personal than his usual scribbled signature.

Just as Shouto finishes his note, there’s another knock on the door. Yet another doctor steps into the room, reading through something in a folder. Her long, silver hair is draped over her shoulder in a thick braid and there’s a sharp horn coming out of her forehead. She seems faintly familiar to Shouto but he can’t place why he would recognize her. At the very least he doesn’t think he’s ever had her as a doctor before. She stops in her tracks when she sees Dr. Midoriya and Kou gathered around his hospital bed.

“Izuku!” she scolds, crossing her arms over her chest.

It takes Shouto a moment to remember Izuku is Dr. Midoriya’s first name. He glances up at him.

Dr. Midoriya leans close to Kou, covering his mouth with one hand to stage whisper to her. “I think we got caught.”

Kou copies him with a quiet giggle. “Oops.”

Shouto closes her notebook carefully and slides it across the bed. Kou covertly slips it into her robe.

“What are you even doing here?” The new doctor asks, exasperated. There’s no way she didn’t hear the two of them whispering, but she seems to be ignoring it.

“Kou just wanted to thank Entropy for saving her!” Dr. Midoriya insists, apparently choosing to take no blame in their “secret adventure.”

“Dr. Aizawa has a quirk kind of like mine,” Kou tells Shouto in a hushed voice while the two doctors argue. “She and Dr. Midoriya are really nice. And funny.”

Dr. Aizawa makes it all click. The light hair and the horn. She was the same little girl Aizawa had adopted during Shouto’s first year.

“We were just leaving, Dr. Aizawa!” Kou chimes in suddenly, sliding off the bed and grabbing Dr. Midoriya’s hand. “Bye!”

Dr. Aizawa shakes her head as Dr. Midoriya is pulled out of the room by a girl a quarter his size. “This isn’t over just because you have a patient protecting you, Izuku.”

Dr. Midoriya sends a bright smile back at her just as the door closes on the two of them.

“I hope they weren’t bothering you too much,” Dr. Aizawa says as she comes over to Shouto’s bed.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m glad I got to see her again. I was worried she’d be a little more upset after everything.”

“Kou’s a strong girl. She’s going to be okay.” Dr. Aizawa says with certainty. “Anyways, I’m Aizawa Eri, I’m part of the hero staff here.”

“Aizawa, er...Eraserhead’s daughter, right?”

Dr. Aizawa smiles and it looks so shockingly like Dr. Midoriya’s, Shouto can’t help but wonder about what their connection to each other is. Especially with how casually she spoke to him. Could they be related? It seems like he would have known if his homeroom teacher had also had or adopted a son his age, wouldn’t he? “That’s right, you were one of his students! Nice to see you again.”

Shouto bows his head in acknowledgement. He knows he met the young girl Aizawa adopted a few times, but his memories of her are fuzzy at best.

Dr. Aizawa checks him over again, asking him a few questions about how he’s feeling and what’s been done already. Finally, she gets to why she’s here to see him. “I’m not sure if you would remember, but my quirk is Rewind. It’s delicate but helpful for healing, especially for many pros. If you remember about how long ago you were burned, I should be able to heal your arm so that you can get back to work without too much fuss.”

“Really?”

Dr. Aizawa nods. “I can rewind your body back to before it happened, but it will rewind your whole body so the closer to the exact time it happened the better, otherwise too many things could change. Do you have a good idea of when it happened?”

“What time is it now?”

Dr. Aizawa glances at her watch. “Almost ten.”

Shouto is briefly surprised by that information. He hadn’t realized how long he had been in the hospital already. “I left the agency after the first alerts came in around 6:30, so it was probably around 7 that I made contact with the villain. I can’t be more exact than that, unfortunately.”

“That should work alright. Would you like to be rewound, or would you prefer to let it heal naturally?”

Shouto shakes his head. Anything to speed up the process. “No, please rewind it if you can.”

She smiles. “Okay, it will be just a moment then.”

Dr. Aizawa pulls on a pair of gloves and takes his arm in her hands, gently, mindful of the injury and the loose bandages protecting it.

A moment later the horn at her temple begins to glow, Shouto has to look away as the warm light grows brighter and then, just like that, it’s over. When he looks back at the doctor, her horn has shrunk a little, losing some of the sharp edge at the top.

“Okay! You should be good to go. How does it feel?”

Shouto moves his arm a few times, relieved that there’s no pain as he moves it. Carefully he peels off the bandages. It looks as if he was never injured, not even a small scar left behind.

Dr. Aizawa looks pleased with the results. “Perfect. Unfortunately it doesn’t work on non-living things so you will have to have your costume repaired separately.”

“That’s fine,” Shouto says. He was more worried about being forced to take some sick leave than repairing his costume to begin with. “Thank you.”

Dr. Aizawa smiles again. “Of course. I’m happy to help.” She pulls a few papers out of her folder and hands them to him. “If you are ready, you can take these to the desk out front and you’ll be discharged.”

Shouto hesitates as he takes the papers from her. An hour ago he was ready to run at the first chance, but now…she was someone who might have some answers…

“Kou mentioned that the two of you had similar quirks,”

“I’m sorry. If you become a part of the investigation I’m sure you’ll find out more information, but for now I can’t disclose a patient’s information.” Dr. Aizawa says before he can even finish figuring out exactly what he wants to ask.

“Right. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I don’t blame you for being curious, not after everything that’s happened.”

Dr. Aizawa looks ready to leave, but there’s one more thing Shouto has to ask. At least while he still has a chance.

“Can I ask about Dr. Midoriya, then?”

Dr. Aizawa stops with a puzzled look. “Izuku? What about him?”

Shouto's mind goes blank. Everything doesn’t seem like a plausible response. At least not one that would get him anywhere. “Uh, I…I was just surprised to hear you call him Izuku. Are you close?”

Dr. Aizawa studies him for a long time as if she could determine whatever ulterior motives he had for asking just by staring him down. Maybe she could if even he knew what he was doing asking these questions.

“I’ve known Izuku for a long time,” she finally says. “He’s like family.”

The answer is careful, guarded. With the slightest undertone of a threat.

“…Right.” Shouto replies awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Dr. Aizawa inclines her head to him. “Have a nice night, Entropy.”

After checking out with Dr. Aizawa’s discharge papers, Shouto heads back to the agency. Sunspot practically tackles him in the lobby.

“Entropy! You’re okay! I thought you were just going to check on the kidnapped civilian, but then Ingenium told me his friend was taking you to the hospital and that I had nothing to worry about so I should just go back to the agency but I didn’t know why you were going to the hospital or what was happening,” she stutters over her words for a moment, taking a breath. “Was it okay to leave? I didn’t know what else to do but I didn’t know what hospital you went to or why. Were you injured? You don’t look hurt. Is that how you damaged your costume?”

Shouto lets her run on while he goes to his office. He knows she’ll follow. And that it’s pointless to try and get a word in until she runs out of breath.

Sunspot sinks into one of his office chairs as he goes to turn his computer on. He lifts a brow at her slumped form in the armchair.

“Are you done?”

She opens her mouth to speak again but after a moment shuts it again and nods.

“The villain who took the hostage burned me. I hadn’t realized the extent of the injury until later. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you personally so that you knew it was okay to come back, but it was fine that you came back. It wasn’t serious.” Shouto explains calmly. “You said Ingenium told you to come back?” Shouto thinks back to Dr. Midoriya texting in the ambulance and he wonders if the two know each other.

Sunspot nods again. “He came and found me and told me a friend was taking you to the hospital. I assumed he meant one of the paramedics. I didn’t know he was friends with the paramedics. Was that part of U.A. training? Getting to know first-responders closely? Or just a coincidence?”

“I think it’s just a coincidence on Ingenium’s part. Not something you’re missing out on.” Shouto says. “You did good tonight. Go home and get some rest.”

“But-”

Shouto gestures to her before she can argue. “You expended a lot of your reserve helping the rescue crews with civilians trapped under the rubble and then helping me melt the ice. It’s okay.”

Sunspot looks down at herself. The faint glow she normally gives off as a result of having excess energy saved up by her quirk is almost completely extinguished. At the late hour, she wouldn’t be able to get any more energy even if they needed to go out into the field again. Not until the sun was up again.

Sunspot pushes herself out of the chair. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help tonight.” She says with a short bow.

Shouto waves her off. “It’s okay.”

“Good night, Entropy.”

“Good night, Sunspot. Good work tonight.” Shouto says. He catches just a glimpse of her relieved smile as his office door closes quietly behind her.

Alone, Shouto settles into his desk chair, already mentally preparing for a long night. He considers going against doctor’s orders and getting some coffee but just barely resists the temptation. Caffeine might end up making him too jittery to focus and this is important. Writing up a more in-depth report of the event for the police and the agency records is the first priority of the night. But after that, Shouto has some research to do.

Momo finds him like that in the morning. Sometime in the night the combination of the late hour and bright computer screen got to him and he went in search of his rarely-worn glasses to take some of the stress off. His final report and the accompanying paperwork are tucked in a folder for safe keeping, but the rest of his desk is a disaster zone of scattered pages, printed news reports of the attack last night with any information he might have missed, any police reports on the matter he could get his hands on with his current clearance, his own compiled notes.

He doesn’t even realize someone else is in the office with him until Momo clears her throat, placing a paper to-go cup of tea in the middle of his desk, on top of the latest piece he’s reading.

“Shouto,” she says seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. “ When did you last take a break?”

Shouto tries to come up with an answer but his brain is fuzzy at best, street names and potential identities floating at the forefront of his consciousness. “Uh, what time is it?”

Momo sighs, rubbing at her temple with one hand. “ Go home, Shouto.”

“I just need to-"

“No.” Momo comes around the other side of his desk, pulling him up and out of his desk chair by one arm. “It’s almost eight o'clock. You need to go home and go to bed.”

Momo might have had a point, his shift was supposed to end at six that morning and he hadn’t even noticed the time, but he digs his heels in, resisting being dragged from the office to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, Momo is stronger than she looks, and has the advantage of a full-night’s sleep on him.

“Go home. Go to sleep. Don’t come back until Saturday.”

“But-”

“You were injured! You should have called me as soon as you were taken to the hospital,” Momo scolds.

“I got better.”

Momo looks at him curiously. She comes to a stop, scanning him over. Shouto’s sure he looks a mess, still half-dressed in his damaged hero-suit, the top unzipped and tied around his waist. His hair has started to escape the braid he had it in for work and he can see the loose hair floating in his peripheral vision. Not to mention how exhausted he probably looks after spending the whole night scouring the police database. But – he’s not injured.

“What do you mean you ‘got better’? You weren’t really injured?”

Shouto sighs. “No, I was. There was a doctor at the hospital with a quirk who fixed it. Aizawa’s daughter, actually.”

Momo’s brows shoot up in surprise. “I didn’t realize she became a doctor. That’s wonderful.” She pauses. “But not the point. You still should have called someone. Though I suppose I should be grateful you went to get help, at all.”

Shouto rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well…there was a doctor on the scene when I was talking to the girl who was targeted who saw my burn.”

“A doctor?”

“Uh…Dr. Midoriya.” Shouto explains. He isn’t sure if Momo will recognize the name, not entirely sure if he wants her to remember or not.

“The professor from the lecture series?” Momo asks in surprise. “What was he doing there?”

“Apparently he’s not just a professor.”

Momo studies him for a few moments, trying to figure something out. Shouto doesn’t blame her. He’d like some answers about his behavior too. He just hopes she comes to an easy conclusion, like Shouto cooperated with Dr. Midoriya because he sort-of knew him, and not anything else ridiculous. Or revealing. Or uncomfortable.

Finally, Momo shakes her head, brushing off whatever conclusions she may have come to. “I don’t care. Go home. Sleep. Eat something. I’ll finish submitting your reports to the police and I’ll make sure they know you are interested in joining the case searching for the villains who escaped last night, but other than talking to anyone who contacts you about the case, I don’t want to hear about you working again until this weekend.”

Shouto wants to keep arguing, he’s not even hurt anymore, but he knows this is the best he’s going to get from her. He is also unbelievably grateful for all the years they’ve known each other and how Momo knows exactly what he needs to hear to relax, even just a little. “Okay. Thank you.”

Momo nods. “We’ll get whoever it is, Shouto. But you don’t have to do it alone. And you can’t do it in one night. So please take care of yourself. I’ll see you on Friday for dinner.”

Momo waves to an intern, instructing them to escort Shouto to the exit. Shouto wants to protest being babysat the rest of the way to the door, but Momo pins him with a hard look before he can even open his mouth and he lets it happen. Admittedly, now that he’s not pouring over his research to keep himself moving, he can feel exhaustion settling over him.

Though he could still find the way to the damn door himself.

Shouto stumbles into his dark apartment twenty minutes later. He leaves the lights off as he comes through the entrance. The morning sun has started to fill the front room with light, and its enough for him to make his way to the bedroom without tripping over anything. His bed is cool, the sheets still ruffled from the previous morning. Shouto just barely remembers to strip off his ruined hero-suit before he drops into the bed, using his left side to warm up the sheets quicker. In a minute, he’s asleep.

When he wakes again, warm golden light pours into the room from his half-open window. He runs a hand over his face, trying to will away the strange, disorienting feeling of waking up. He reaches to his bedside table, knocking a few things to the side until he connects with his alarm clock. Pulling it close, he squints at the lit screen. It was almost five in the afternoon. Shouto tosses the offending thing away. He takes just a few moments to reorient himself before he forces himself out of bed and into the shower.

He only remembers after stepping into the spray that half of his hair is still twisted into a braid. He swears as he tears the now-wet strands free of the stubborn rubber-band, tugging at the knots there unhappily. He doesn’t mean to stay in the shower for long, but after fighting with his hair for who knows how long, the heat and relaxing pound of the spray against his shoulders eases some of the tension from his body and he wastes time under the comforting water until it starts to run cold. The temperature change doesn’t bother him much, but he figures he’s wasted enough water like that and climbs out.

After drying off a little, Shouto brushes his teeth, and that, combined with washing off the grime of the previous day, helps make him feel a little more awake. A little more human.

Shouto dresses in casual civilian clothes. He finds his phone, dead, in a pocket of his hero-suit before tossing the ruined thing in a bag to give to the support team. They’ll probably just have to make him a new one, but he feels bad throwing it away without trying to salvage it.

His charger is plugged in near the bed, so he goes to grab it so he can charge his phone in the kitchen while he makes something to eat. But in fumbling around looking for the charger, he spots his forgotten glasses in the mess of sheets and pillows on his bed. The ear piece on the right side is bent at a strange angle and one of the lenses is cracked. Shit. Well, he supposes, that’s what he gets for wearing them for the first time in months while running on fumes. He tosses the damaged glasses on his side table and leaves for the kitchen.

Finally, he switches on a few lights.

His apartment is mostly bare, plain white walls with just a few basic pieces of furniture, mostly just there to fill the empty space. The occasional dirty glass or dish that gets left behind if he’s in a rush on his way to work are the only signs of the life in the otherwise dull place. Those, and the three picture frames hanging on the wall in his living room; one of his mother and siblings, one of his graduating class with their teachers mixed in with the colorful crowd, and one of the day he and Momo started their agency. They’re the only decoration he needs. They represent all the important people in his life.

There are a few containers of leftovers in the fridge, and while it would be easier to warm something up and leave it at that, Shouto takes the time to pull out some fresh ingredients. Washing off the vegetables and prepping them while rice cooks is a simple, familiar routine and it helps ground him.

He starts a simple stir fry with chicken just as his phone finally comes back to life, chiming with a number of missed notifications. Lowering the heat slightly, Shouto lets it simmer for a minute while he checks his phone.

A few of the notifications are basic news reports he usually dismisses, though today he saves any about last night’s attack incase there’s been any updated information. There are two texts from Momo asking if he got home safe and if he ate anything. He shoots of a quick reply to her, apologizing for not letting her know right away and reassuring her he’s making food now. He takes a picture of the pan and sends it as an after thought, just in case she doesn’t believe him. There are also a few texts from Kyouka telling him to stop worrying her wife and to stop being an idiot. He responds to those with a few choice emojis and nothing else. She’ll get the message.

Finally, he looks at the emails he missed. There’s one from an Officer Uchida he doesn’t recognize, confirming he (Momo) submitted the right paper work to join the case against the villains from the night before and once the task force has been officially formed he would be contacted with more information. Relieved, Shotuo saves the contact information and sets it as a priority so he’ll be sure to get any future notifications right away. The only other missed email is from Dr. Midoriya.

Shouto goes back to checking his food, stirring it for a few minutes and adding a few more ingredients. His attention goes back to his phone a few times, but he resists going back to it. He’s not sure why, he’s been waiting for this stupid email basically since he left the professor’s office, but suddenly he’s nervous about opening it. He’s not sure what to expect once he opens the list of the professor’s topics. What if he imagined all of this and the professor still wants him to talk about his family? What if Shouto can’t answer any of his questions about how his quirk works? Is it even a good idea for him to talk publicly about how his quirk works? Couldn’t someone use that against him?

Shouto turns his phone upside down, hiding the blinking notification.

He’ll look at it after he eats.

He finishes cooking a little while later. Scooping out a generous serving of rice into a bowl and getting a plate for the stir fry he settles in the living room. He has a perfectly good table he could eat at in the kitchen, but there’s something satisfying in breaking the rules and eating on the couch. Out in the open, casually. He hasn’t lived with his father since he was a first year, but he still takes satisfaction in all the ways he can defy him and the rules he kept in that house.

Shouto turns on the local news channel to watch while he eats. Unsurprisingly, the attack from last night is still the focus of the station. There’s a reporter discussing the widespread damage through downtown on the screen. In the background, heroes and clean up crews are still working to clear the rubble. Shouto recognizes Uravity’s bright pink costume amongst all the grey and black. She’s moving two giant pieces of concrete overhead, some kind of broken metal rods coming from one look particularly dangerous.

A scrolling banner runs across the bottom of the broadcast, asking anyone who might have information about the villains to call in to a hotline, and a separate call for anyone with quirks that might help in fixing the damage done to the roads. There are also short headlines for stories meant to air later that night and a small graphic with the weather.

The camera view changes suddenly and the report comes back into view with a police officer, answering questions about the attack.

What did they know about it? Not much yet, but they don’t think it was random.

Was anyone seriously injured? Thankfully most casualties were only minor injuries and the paramedics on scene took care of most of the civilians who were hurt.

Who were the villains? No one in particular. They don’t think this is an organized group starting attacks. Not like in the past. No one needs to worry.

All safe answers that tell them basically nothing about what happened. Shouto learned more in the two minutes he spent on the radio before pursuing the villain than the news report. He changes the channel. A talk show re-run is showing an old interview with Hawks. Shouto hesitates changing the channel again.

“So, Hawks, it’s no secret that you’ve been a fan of Endeavor’s basically since your debut, and the two of you made a good team as Number 1 and 2 for a while,” the interviewer says in a fake cheerful voice. Hawks gives a stiff smile, placating but revealing nothing about how he actually feels about the subject. “What are your thoughts on the rumors brewing about a civil trial after the allegations against Endeavor from his family?”

‘Tis the season.

Shouto clicks the TV off before Hawks can reply.

Not hungry anymore, Shouto puts his plate down. He ate most of what he had taken anyways. The rest will be fine for leftovers.

Getting up from the couch, Shouto goes back to the kitchen for his phone. The same ignored email is still waiting for him with that mocking, blinking notification light. Taking a deep breath, as if preparing for a fight, he opens it.

Entropy,

I hope you are doing better after Dr. Aizawa’s visit with you at the hospital. Sorry I couldn’t see you off. Here is the list of possible topics we discussed the other day. This is just an abbreviated list of some basic things to talk about. You can obviously go into more detail about anything that might interest you or that you think might be important information for anyone with two or dual quirks to consider.

Thank you for considering being a part of the Hero Talks Series.

Thank you, also, for your help with the attacks last night and with Kou.

Midoriya

Shouto isn’t sure what to focus on first. The dropped title from the professor’s name? Midoriya thanking him for doing his job of all things?

Making the executive decision to focus on none of them for the time being, Shouto opens the attached document with the lecture topics. Dr. Midoriya’s “abbreviated list" is still two pages long.

Somehow, it’s exactly what Shouto was expecting.

#bnha #mha #tododeku #tddk #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #tododeku big bang 2021 #fic #rita writes #6.24.21 #fic: reckless good

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wolfstarflowerpottstarchaser · 3 years ago

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How I imagine Rose Granger-Weasley

She grew up playing in WWW

Ron was a stay-at-home Dad with Rose until Hermione fell pregnant with Hugo, and he took on a role at WWW to help with bills (more on this in an old post)

Rose gets on with both of her parents, but she’s definitely a Daddy’s Girl and Hugo is a big Mummy’s boy

Rose and Hugo fall out sometimes like all siblings do, but she’s very protective of him for the most part

She is a very stereotypical big sister and she definitely inherited her mother’s knack for bossiness, ordering Hugo about whenever they played games

But she made the most fun games and Hugo didn’t mind letting her take charge because she was the best at imagining

Of all her cousins, she’s closest with Albus. Maybe because they were the closest in age, they would often get sat together at family events and they became very close, but really she was close with all her cousins

When she’s at Hogwarts, she hangs around mostly with Albus and Scorpius, but (since they’re in a different house) she doesn’t see them all the time. That’s okay with her, though, because she likes to have time to herself, reading and painting

Like Ron says, she takes after her mother

She’s definitely a bright witch so no one’s real surprised initially when the Sorting hat places her in Ravenclaw

“Hermione Granger’s daughter, you know? Just like her mother, I’m sure”

But classes start and her teachers are surprised by her behaviour. They expected her to be just like Hermione, but her behaviour is much more like Ron

In class, she’s often told off for daydreaming and letters were definitely sent home fairly often informing Ron and Hermione that she wasn’t paying attention in class

Instead, more often than not, she would sketch instead of take notes. She was a good little artist

In her first class with McGonagall, she drew a picture of her animagus form in her witch’s hat, and it was confiscated

Sometimes she would enchant the pictures to move, but other times she would prefer to keep them still and admire the world she created trapped in a single moment

When end of year exams came, her teachers were pleasantly shocked she had passed most of her subjects with mostly ‘Exceeds Expectations,’ a couple ‘Acceptables’ and even one ‘Outstanding’ in astronomy after a year of late homework and not paying attention

Around third year, she started feeling more anxious about her academic performance. Her whole life, she was being compared to her mother and now that Hermione was the Minister, the pressure was worse than ever

She felt as though people met her, daughter of Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, and Ron Weasley, also one of the bravest fighters during the war, and they expected something… better

It was an impossible life to live up to

She tried to do better, push herself to get those top marks in subjects. She really tried her hardest in class, asking questions and taking notes, and she stayed up late into the night to get more studying done

Rose stopped drawing, stopped painting, stopped everything that made her happy, including seeing her friends and cousins. There was no time anymore

James was the one who finally wrote to her parents, but apparently he hadn’t been the only one who had noticed

Rose was asked to stay behind after transfiguration with McGonagall. Minnie poured them some tea and offered Rose a biscuit, which she took quite happily

“I’ve noticed a change in your behaviour, Ms Granger-Weasley,” she said. “Apparently I’m not the only one. Professor Longbottom has conveyed similar changes in herbology. It’s almost as if your mother is back in my class.”

Rose smiled, tired from lack of sleep, but pleased. “Thank you!”

“I also noticed a few other differences,” she continued. “For example, I have seen you falling asleep in the Great Hall during meal times, and it’s been a long time since you’ve shown me one of your wonderful pictures.”

“Well, Professor, I’ve been trying a lot harder in all my classes,” Rose said. “There’s time for silly hobbies after I’ve completed my education. I need to be focused like my mum was.”

And then McGonagall went on to tell Rose the importance of not overexerting oneself and the toll it can take on your mental health

“I imagine that it’s not always easy being the child of two famous parents, especially when they achieved so much at a young age, but… you are your own person. Not your mother or father and nor would they want you to be. You are Rose Minerva Granger-Weasley, and you have your own wonderful destiny.”

Rose was stunned. As she left, McGonagall added, “For the record, I have never considered your art a silly hobby,” and Rose noticed her slip something into her desk drawer. The same picture she had confiscated from her two years ago

She really listened to her that day. She was not Hermione or Ron. She was a little bit of both and then some. She was Rose and she had her own path to take

That night, she used a paintbrush for the first time in months and felt herself again

Something occurred to her. She wasn’t the only one who loved art. If they teach it in muggle schools, why could they not have art classes in Hogwarts?

That said, why stop there? What about things like music?

A few days later, she went to see McGonagall again, this time with five pages filled with signatures

“These are the students who think we should have an arts and music programme at Hogwarts. There are so many empty classrooms and the school definitely has the funding.”

McGonagall smiled proudly. “This is quite something you’ve put together, I’ll propose it to the board.”

It took some time, but eventually the board had to agree because so many students were demanding it

Obviously, Hermione and Ron were so proud

Fifth year starts and Rose joins the quidditch team, chaser like her Aunt Ginny

Around this time, she becomes friends with a fourth-year muggleborn witch also new on the team, Darlene

She realises (or, more accurately, let’s herself realise) that she’s got feelings for Darlene

She tries to ignore it, but one day, Darlene kisses her and she can’t ignore it anymore

Over Christmas break, she comes out to her family, and holds her breath

But, of course, they’re all so supportive

Ron is especially eager to meet her new girlfriend, insisting she stay with them for a week over the summer

When Albus and Scorpius come out a year later, she’s the only one who’s shocked

She’s seen them together more than anyone, but somehow was the only one who missed it entirely

Like her Uncle Harry, she can be totally oblivious

(Except this time, even he knew)

When Rose left school, she became an artist… but decided she wanted to explore her Muggle heritage

She stayed with her maternal grandparents for a while, and then started to sell her paintings in muggle art galleries

After Darlene finished Hogwarts, they got a small place together, and saved for several years until they could afford…

Their own café on Diagon Alley. Darlene loved to bake and her cakes quickly became famous, and Rose’s artwork (now painted with magic again) we’re selling more than ever, and other artists were showcasing their work there now, too

They lived above the café in a small flat

It wasn’t until they were in their late 30s that they decided to get married, and it was a small, intimate wedding

(Yes, Ron cried his eyes out)

They never had kids, neither of them wanted to be mothers and were quite happy just being aunties

But they did have a cat. Her name was Minnie

#rose granger weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #headcanon #Darlene #wlw #my version of…

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silver-embersss · 3 years ago

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Broken Horns and Broken Hearts Chapter 8

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

Tubbo had collapsed into bed only a few moments before, but the next the boy knew, he was sitting in yet another meeting, with the rest of the cabinet casting him slightly strange looks as they argued.

He internally panicked, scouring his brain for any memories of getting up, or even walking to the meeting - but there was nothing. A quick check of his timetable confirmed that he’d only lost a few hours this time, instead of two whole days, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. Where were these sudden gaps in his memory coming from? And why was Quackity staring at him like he’d grown a second head? He shook it off as nothing, perhaps their confrontation last night.

The meeting was followed by another speech, where Schlatt announced a festival to be held in a week, the organising of which was probably going to be delegated to Tubbo on top of the rest. The teen scanned the cityline in boredom, and he was pleasantly surprised to see Wilbur duck behind a parapet. Thankfully, the ex-president couldn’t see him - specifically his horns - from where he stood next to Quackity, but he took a small step back anyway to make sure. Remembering the conversation he had with Tommy yesterday, Tubbo made a mental note to write down the ambush plans they’d discussed earlier and deliver it to the hidden chest.

The gaps in his memory became more frequent as the festival drew near, but Tubbo somehow managed to keep his act together, ignoring the strange looks he got as his horns grew and his patience diminished. The teen also ignored the way his friends talked about him behind his back, denouncing him just because of Schlatt. He simply pretended not to hear the hurt remarks about his grumpiness.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tommy slashed wildly with a stone blade, shards of granite screeching off the wall, and he heard Techno chuckle condescendingly from behind. The teen spun around in irritated tiredness to snap at his older brother.

“At least I’m preparing and not just farming fuckin’ potatoes for three hours straight, dipshit!”

The mocking smile on Techno’s face widened.

“The thing is, Tommy, I don’t need the training - you clearly do.”

“Oh, shut up. Stupid pig bastard.”

Tommy glanced worriedly upwards towards the ravine entrance, where Wilbur stood, currently fucking up his sleep schedule even more. The pig followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow, silently judging his hypocrisy, but Tommy ignored the hint and went back to attempting to massacre the granite wall. L’Mandog could look after Wilbur. They had a war to fight, and if The Blade was going to slack off, well. Then it was down to Tommy to carry their rebellion, wasn’t it?

3 bites of a baked potato later, Techno was back in his farm, both him and Tommy trying their best to pretend each other didn’t exist.

Strangely, it didn’t work.

Eventually, Tommy gave the wall a break and swapped his stone sword out for iron, strapping the bare blade to his hip.

“I’m gonna go check the notebook chest!”

The teen called to Techno, trying not to disturb Wilbur in his moonstruck reverie as he left. Despite his efforts, Tommy felt his brother’s eyes on his back as he crept through the undergrowth.

A few hasty ducks and desperate, pleading headshakes at Niki later, the teen made it to the hillside underneath the prime path that hid the chest. For a split second, he thought he saw a flash of black - Tubbo, maybe? - dash around the corner, but it was gone before he could call out to whoever it was.

A quick glance in ‘the mailbox’ (as Techno called it) revealed the notebook they'd been writing correspondences in, but thrown hastily down on its front, bending the spine. The messy placement was at odds with how it normally lay when it was Tubbo’s turn, but the teen didn’t think much of it other than a muttered curse at the dictator who was keeping his best friend busy doing everything that Schlatt should have been doing.

Tommy skimmed through the rushed explanation of the festival’s weaknesses and snapped a picture of the map Tubbo had painstakingly sketched of the proposed layout. They’d agreed not to use names in the book in case one of them was caught with it, so Tommy just scribbled ‘Thx bitch, hang in there’ on the next page and replaced the book.

For a moment, he entertained the crazy idea of abducting Tubbo so he wouldn’t have to deal with the drunken tyrant, but the thought was soon brushed off due to its impossible nature. Plus, who would be their spy then? Will tried to get in contact with Fundy, but was left on read - the fox was still seemingly bitter about losing the election, even if he did cheat.

After a wistful glance at the half-broken walls, Tommy shoved his communicator back in his pocket, took a step back and fell into a creeper hole.

“Fuck!”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t long until Tommy came back from the mailbox, but it was 11:30 at night, so Techno once again tried to convince Wilbur to come into the relatively warmer Pogtopia. The ex-president was mumbling a steady stream of nonsense (which was slightly concerning, to say the least) but it wasn’t exactly a strange occurrence.

“Wilbur? Will?”

No response.

“I’ll make you stew if you come in.”

Food usually got the attention of his siblings, especially Tommy, but still Wilbur ignored him. With a sigh, Techno gave up and went back to his farm, giving L’Mandog a pat on the head as he turned away. It wasn’t the best result, but at least he tried, right?

Casting his memory back, the piglin couldn’t remember Tommy eating that day either, so he pulled a cauldron on top of the campfire anyway, letting the water boil while he rummaged in the chests for some steak. Cutting the meat into small cubes, he threw it into the pot alongside some salt and half a clove of chopped garlic. While the pot simmered, Techno sat cross-legged on the ground next to it and got to peeling and chopping some of the potatoes he’d farmed, throwing the peel in a nearby bucket. It didn’t take long for Tommy to come barreling down the narrow stairs, an ecstatic look on his face as he sniffed the air.

“It’ll be ready in a bit.” Techno grunted at him, ignoring his excited yell.

“Do me a favour and get Wilbur.”

The teen raised an eyebrow at him.

“Bet you already tried.”

The piglin glared at him, and Tommy raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay okay, I’m going!”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The festival date was set. Planning was under way. All the information had been leaked to the rebels - and yet Tubbo couldn’t help but feel he was missing something important. The feeling was so urgent, he’d checked off lists a million times and gone over everything with Quackity a million-and-one, and it still hadn’t gone away. That, combined with the memory gaps, bleeding horns, and the alcoholic president, weighed on him more heavily than he’d admit. Sleep was a rare luxury, not a necessity. Fundy took every opportunity he had to glare menacingly at him, and even the recently-released Niki kept her distance. It hurt, to be so isolated from these people he’d fought beside for months, but there was no time for moping. There was barely even time for breathing.

“Tubbo! Get me a coffee!”

“Yes, Mr. Schlatt!”

As he sped down the hall, clipboard and a stack of papers in hand, Quackity called him from outside. He set the papers down on the hallway table and stuck his head out the door.

“What?!”

Big Q motioned towards the square, where a large hole sat in the centre of the seating.

“A creeper blew up the square, can you fix it?”

“Yeah, just-” “TUBBO! COFFEE!”

The teen bit his lip and gestured awkwardly over his shoulder.

“I gotta go-”

Without waiting for a response, he dashed back to the small break area where the coffee maker was kept. He set it going before rushing to collect the stack of forms left on the table. While the coffee brewed, he read through as many as he could. This was the usual routine - multitasking, never taking more than a second’s break, trying to stay on Schlatt’s good side - and he’d gotten used to it. As Tubbo grabbed a stack of cobble from his chest, a message buzzed through his communicator. Cobble in one hand, communicator in the other, he typed a reply in snatches, mostly looking forward as he hurried towards the creeper hole.

TommyInnit whispered to you: Tubso

You whispered to TommyInnit: What?

TommyInnit whispered to you: I need you

He sighed angrily.

You whispered to TommyInnit: tf do you want???? m busy!!!!!

TommyInnit whispered to you: is schlatt being a dick again? We need more info on the festical

You whispered to TommyInnit: well im actually doing stuf unlike some ppl!!!!! TommyInnit whispered to you: ???? u good?

You whispered to TommyInnit: lok i dont have the time!! get yor own fuckin informton!

Another message pinged through but Tubbo ignored it, shoving the little black box back in his pocket and continuing with his tasks. The next thing he knew, it was the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window of his room. A slight jolt of nausea accompanied the sudden change in his surroundings, but the teen shrugged it off. It was routine, after all. It was a struggle to pull his pyjama top over his head, as his horns grew bigger every day. Surely they’ll stop growing at some point. The sharp points protruded about a centimetre past his chin, and were a lot thicker than before. Succumbing to his exhaustion, Tubbo let out an ear-shattering yawn and fell into bed, digging his nails into the itchy skin around the base of the horns. A jolt of pain made him yelp, and something warm trickled down his hand.

Blood.

Note to self: Invest in bandages for these things!

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whatsherfacewrites · 4 years ago

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First Lines

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Tagged by @fandomn00blr and @cassandra-pentughasst - thanks! ❤️❤️

Lmao, have I written 20 things, like ever? I’m awed by people who can be so prolific. Me, I just flog the same old fics all the damn time. So here we go! In reverse chronological order!

City of Magic (WIP, modern AU)

They didn’t call it Adamant for nothing.

The gates of the Grey Warden bunker on the western outskirts of March City took two hundred pounds of gaatlok to breach. That was the easy part, it turned out. The Wardens inside were outnumbered three to one, but not one of them was giving ground without a fight.

Words Not Voiced (one shot Divine!Cass angst)

You could give up the Sunburst Throne for the love of a great man. For a king or a prince, maybe. Or the Inquisitor, the savior of Thedas.

But for a nameless mage from Ostwick? Even a veteran of the Inquisition?

Clean Burn (canon longfic)

Senior Enchanter Owain Trevelyan leaned against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose, absently running his thumb along the scar on his right cheek. It had been a long day, and, somehow, it wasn’t over yet.

Ok, so some light cheating here... The lines above were literally the first fic I ever wrote, so here are a few later *chapter* openers.

Mirror, Mirror (Clean Burn, Ch. 28)

Memory was a strange thing.

There were the big moments, of course, the obvious ones, the things he expected to remember. But sometimes, the details were what stayed with him. Sometimes, just by saying to himself, “Remember this,” the mundane could be made momentous, the ordinary, significant.

Never Let Me Go (Clean Burn, Ch. 29)

He was moving, but not of his own strength.

Carried, then. Strong arms supported his shoulders and knees. When his head rolled, his cheek came to rest on cool steel.

Cassandra.

Sunrise, Sunset (Clean Burn, Ch. 30)

He had good days, and he had bad days.

Returning to Skyhold should have helped, and in some ways it did, but the comfort of familiar surroundings was tempered by constant reminders of his newfound limitations. They sprang on him when he least expected, these ghosts of what he was and would never be again, even in the smallest details, like the sticky door that was easy with two hands but now had to be wrenched open with one, or the heavy chair he had to push, not lift, across the floor, or the once-reliable stair rail he could no longer count on.

After (Clean Burn, Epilogue)

Cassandra had always known her husband to be an emotional man, prone to feeling deeply, even if it was seldom evident on the surface. She herself had learnt all the signs over their years together, but even an unpracticed eye could see he became freer with his tears after the end of the Inquisition, following the loss of his hand.

If Only (one shot smut-if-you-squint)

Cassandra shut the book and shoved it under the corner of her bedroll, blowing the spent candle out of its misery. With so little light, squinting at the page was giving her a headache. She could fetch a fresh candle from her pack, but doing so would mean leaving this hard-won huddle of warmth. She rubbed the tip of her nose. So cold.

Nothing Wagered (one shot fluff)

She should never have agreed to this.

Cullen shifted in the seat across the table and carefully rolled his sleeve past his elbow.

Cassandra huffed and did the same, pushing up the fabric of her tunic and folding it in place with a deft twist.

A terrible idea.

Victoria (one shot Divine!Cass angst)

Owain tilted his head at the armed sentries that stood watch by her door.

“Are they always in here?”

“They are here for my protection.”

He arched a brow and smirked, an increasingly rare sight these days. “You? Protection?”

City of Lies (modern!AU)

Cassandra Pentaghast hated being late.

Her meeting with Seeker-Commander Corin had run over, and now there was no way she would make it downtown for the start of the Conclave.

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts (one shot fluff)

Late afternoon sun dazzled off the snowdrifts that lined the mountain path below Skyhold. Owain watched stray flakes dance across them on the wind and was so lost in his thoughts that he had no warning before something cold and hard hit him squarely between the shoulder blades. He reached a gloved hand to his back, and it came away covered in powder.

Patterns? I guess I like to start by establishing the POV and dumping you in their head. If you’re familiar with my characters, it should be pretty clear who’s “speaking,” and if you’re not, you’ll get the idea. Then we set the scene.

Favorites? I generally have stronger feelings about last lines than firsts, but today I’ll say Nothing Wagered, just because it feels very Cassandra to me. And City of Magic, because it’s my current favorite and most special baby. 😬

#*fewer #tag meme #first lines #writer meta #I need to finish CoM #it's killing me

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nikstersss · 3 years ago

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Not How To Pass The PLE

Before I go into the main gist of this post, let me give you a small background story. I was a mid-year post-graduate intern in Manila who started in January 2021. I lived alone in our condo unit near the hospital I went to. My usual routine was to get up early, prep, take a short walk to the trike station where I’d take a tricycle to the hospital, go on duty, insert a coffee or carioca break in between, walk all the way home at the end of the day, then maybe have a short study session with a couple friends after dinner or just chill at home. It was a pretty good setup. But then COVID happened. Suddenly, I was a pandemic e-ntern stuck at home listening to Zoom endorsements and lectures all day. At first I was hopeful that things would somehow go back to normal and maybe I wouldn’t be spending the rest of my internship in front of a screen, but we all know how that turned out.

I finished the first half of my internship with the regular year PGIs online. While they were prepping for their boards, I was on my second half with the new batch of interns (that’s probably you, dear reader)—still online. Now you might think that it would have been wise of me to use all that “free” time to start early with my own boards prep and you would be correct. I thought the exact same thing. And trust me, I tried. And failed. Countless times. I won’t even try to justify it. Admittedly, I still think it was a wasted opportunity to read more and make notes, but then again, there’s no use crying over spilled milk. Besides, while it would have been nice and probably less stressful, I still survived without it. Which means that you can, too. So if you’re one of those who’s berating himself because you “didn’t make the most out of your time”, cut it out. You’ll be fine.

Towards the end of my internship, I enrolled in a review center. Despite the asynchronous setup, the review schedule was super tight and the sessions already started while I was still in the middle of final reports and exams. Needless to say, I was already behind on that before it even began. In fact, I didn’t even get to focus on reviewing itself until maybe around early February because of clearance, paperwork, and application stuff. So if you were to ask me how long I really reviewed for the March 2021 boards, I’d say just a little over a month. Kasalanan ko. Wag po tularan. Stressful siya. Nakakaloka.

And even when I did get to really buckle down and do some intense reading, I didn’t follow the program anymore. I tried to catch up at first, but I was already way behind. But I am grateful for all the summarized material because that meant I didn’t have to pore over the mother books anymore. What I will say, though, is that because I didn’t exactly follow the recommended study hours etcetera, I was able to enjoy the whole process because I did it at my own pace. Sure, there was still that dread that maybe I wasn’t on the same level as the others, but I learned to tune those thoughts out eventually. And that’s where goal-setting and discipline comes in, I guess.

The most common question I’ve been getting is what was my day like during the PLE review season. Honestly, I’d like to say I had a routine I followed, but that’s only half-true. While I did have a structure for my day, I rarely followed it exactly. Nevertheless, allow me to share what it would have been like if I did:

Ideally, I’d wake up at 5:00 A.M. then do my morning routine which included prayer and meditation, making my bed, taking a shower, and brewing coffee. And because I’m the type of person who enjoys these mundane activities and slow mornings, I also took this opportunity to get myself in the zone before all the studying that’s to come. I’d plan out my study goals and outline (something you can do the night before, actually) then maybe have breakfast while watching some videos (could be review-related, or those self-motivational vids, or maybe even Korean street food). I’d do whatever I wanted to wake my brain up without stressing it out too much until around 6:30 A.M. By this time, I’d work on backlogs for about an hour and study until about 10 or 11 A.M.—it depends how in the zone I am. I’d prep and cook lunch and then eat while watching Netflix maybe or even play a bit of Fortnite or Paladins until about 1:00 P.M. At this point, I’m pretty certain to be quite sleepy so it’s either I make coffee or tea, or maybe even go out to study at a coffee shop, and then it’s study all the way until 7 P.M. I then take a break to get some exercise, take a shower, have a light dinner, and if I feel like I deserve it, nap for a little bit. At around 8:30, my family usually calls and then we pray the rosary together. After this, I study again, but more of a recall and review session for the day’s progress until about 11:30. I then have my night self-care routine and then go to sleep around midnight.

The main takeaway from the previous paragraph? “Ideally.”

During the first few days of setting up my schedule or routine, following it was already challenging, but still doable. But then the backlogs started piling up and no matter how much I tried to streamline the whole study process, I just couldn’t keep up. I did what I could to follow study habits and schedules, but the setup was falling apart. And you know what? That was okay.

Normally, my type A self would have been so frustrated already with how poorly I was handling my review season. Admittedly, there were a few meltdowns and anxiety attacks as the exam drew nearer, but for the most part, I just let things happen as they did. I still adjusted, sure, but I wasn’t hard on myself for always having to. I kept changing goals when I didn’t meet them (which was probably 80% of the time). There were even instances where I’d finish a handout and then I’d say that okay, I’ll watch an episode for a reward, but that episode became the entire season. While I considered myself to be the most chill reviewee, I also thought I was the worst because I refused to give up any of my wants for my needs. I resisted, of course, but then they’d bug me the entire time I was studying so instead of staying productive, I’d just annoy the hell out of myself. I was probably just lazy and stubborn. LOL. Long story, short, it was a constant battle.

There were times when I felt confident enough to power through the whole thing. I enjoyed the whole process of studying, actually. Making notes and my own ways of memorizing things was fun. I made use of different study strategies, self-checks, and motivational boosters (more on these on a different post). Aside from these, having review-mates who were just a chat away made things bearable. Breakdown session muna tas aral na ulit. And how could I forget all my sweet friends who would send over coffee ayuda every now and then? To me, passing the boards, while mainly should be for oneself and one’s self-actualization, is also about not letting down these people who have been with you throughout your journey.

But it wasn’t always a hyped-90s-movie-transformation-montage kind of environment. Other times, I was just worn out and dejected by my lack of progress. In the already meager time I had to study, I still had plenty of off-days. Concepts just wouldn’t stick and it was disappointing how I’d already forgotten what I just read a couple days ago. It got really tiring even if I was staying indoors all the time. I missed the comfort of coffee shops and the company of study buddies. I missed my family. I wanted to hug our dog. There were days when I couldn’t even bring myself to make coffee and open my notes. I even reached a point where I was sure that I wouldn’t finish reading all the material. (I kid you not, I have handouts I never got to open.)

Yet here I am. Here I am writing about how I survived all that and got those two letters attached to my name. I am not a good example, obviously. There are hundreds better than me and you probably should be taking advice from them instead. I’m simply writing this to tell you that you don’t have to worry. This is all just to ease your anxieties about the PLE. I’m not saying it’s an easy feat that you can just achieve just like that. While I seemed rather complacent, I still put in the work, after all. Admittedly, I know I could have done more, but again, I’m not going to dwell on that anymore. It’s done.

My goal in writing this is to let you know, my dear future doctor, that you’re going to be just fine. Here’s someone who understands the huge disconnect that stemmed from being a pandemic e-ntern. Here’s someone who’s always been doubtful and full of anxieties about the PLE even before she filed her application at the PRC. Here’s someone who constantly prayed that the PLE be moved even for just a month (or kahit two weeks lang masaya na ako nun) up to the week before the exam along with a rising number of cases. Here’s someone who barely has the capability to maintain focus for more than an hour. Here’s someone whose reading pace was literally at 10 minutes per page (yes, I actually timed it and IDK if that’s slow or really slow). Here’s someone who still allowed herself to study at coffee shops and even have samgyup (with proper health protocols, of course) even if she knew she was drowning in backlogs.

My point is that if I managed to pass despite all that, you can, too. My close friends know that I developed a rather funny mentality to ease the jitters as the boards drew nearer. I knew and claimed it for myself that I would already pass. I viewed the whole PLE as just a “formality”--a means for His plans of me becoming a doctor to manifest in this realm. I believed it so much to the point that I thought that no matter what bloopers and slip-ups I have during the test, I’d still see my name on the list of board passers. I’m not saying you should totally ease up and just have a come-what-may attitude. Again, I’m not the model student you should be following here. What I’m saying is to have faith in yourself, your capabilities, and in God. So chin up, Doc. Just a little more ‘til you get to legally practice with that MD at the end of your name.

#nikstersss #PLE

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 4 years ago

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Chapter 50: Insecurity Abounds

Becoming The Mask

Why wasn't it working?!

Jim ducked the fire jets and somersaulted out of their path.

The Forge floor tilted, sending him sliding back to where he’d started from. He braced his feet against the pop-up turret that spewed fire and launched himself up to grab the next turret, the one that shot darts. He used the higher turret to swing himself back to level ground. Jim blocked the darts that followed him with his sword.

Gunmar’s Eye hadn’t had any noticeable effect on the Amulet yet.

Jim wove through and around the pendulum axes.

When he’d put the Heartstone chip in the Amulet, he’d been able to summon a knife in minutes.

He threw several knives at a target and used his sword to cut another in half.

Of course, he’d been actively hoping for a knife when he’d cleaved that stone, and he didn’t have any solid idea what this new one was supposed to do.

Jim made it to the Soothscryer and inserted his hand.

The Forge’s mechanisms shut down. The past Trollhunters did not draw him into the Void to advise him on how to find out the properties of a newly cleaved stone.

“Okay, let’s break down the possibilities,” Jim said out loud, in case the Ghost Council decided to chime in after all. He paced around the Soothscryer. “It’s supposed to help defeat Gunmar. It’s an eye, so … insight to his strategies? Can I spy on him through it somehow?”

Except, hadn’t Vendel said there was a stone for that already? A glimpse into your enemy’s mind …

Well, a backup would be helpful to have if it turned out they did the same thing.

“Or is it like those old superstitions where you can use a piece of somebody to harm them remotely?”

Some human cultures advised caution in disposing of one’s shed hair and nail clippings for that reason. Jim didn’t know if any other trolls had analogous beliefs, but since stone flesh was literally magical it did come up among Changelings sometimes.

“Or like magnets. Can he not touch me if I armour up with the Eye in the Amulet? Not like I can test that, or like it’ll be any use in letting me kill him.” And the Triumbric Stones were supposed to be key to defeating Gunmar, not having a stalemate with Gunmar.

“Or is the legend just inaccurate?”

Not the most appealing thought, but now that it had occurred to him it would be stressing Jim out. What if they put all that time and energy into tracking down and cleaving the Triumbric Stones and they didn’t even turn out to do anything?

“Any time you guys wanna weigh in on this,” he hinted at the previous Trollhunters.

Jim sat on the Forge floor, leaned back against the Soothscryer, and closed his eyes. The Soothscryer dropped into the floor, sending Jim sprawling back with a yelp.

“… Very funny.”

“Jim?” AAARRRGGHH entered the Forge. His steps were slow at first, and then Jim heard him hurrying across the bridge. “Jim okay?”

“Yeah, just, aggravated.” He knocked on his breastplate beside the Amulet. “Stricklander got Gunmar’s Eye for me, and Vendel taught me how to cleave it, but I – I can’t figure out what it does. I thought it would – would make me stronger, or tougher, or give me a new weapon, but – nothing! I’ve been training for hours and, and I haven’t been able to do anything I couldn’t before, and apparently the Ghost Council wants me to figure this out on my own, so they’re no help.”

“AAARRRGGHH help,” said the bigger troll decisively. He picked up the human-shaped Changeling and plopped him on his shoulders. “Jim tired. Sore. Anger-vated. Hard to think. Need rest.”

And he started carrying Jim out of the Forge.

“… Where are we going?”

“Library. Quiet there.”

AAARRRGGHH was tall, and his fur was thick. Jim was mostly hidden by it. He wasn’t sure anyone noticed him as AAARRRGGHH walked through Trollmarket.

Why was AAARRRGGHH carrying him? Jim had been sure AAARRRGGHH no longer trusted him that much, but here he was, giving Jim easy access to his scruff, his neck, all the vulnerable spots on his back …

Inside the library, AAARRRGGHH did not shrug Jim off. He simply settled into his usual corner – a space relatively clear of shelves, so AAARRRGGHH wouldn’t block access to anything important if he dozed off – and opened one of the larger, less delicate books to where it was bookmarked.

“Rest,” he said. “Talk when ready.”

It was always sort of comical to see AAARRRGGHH reading. Even the tallest and widest volumes, books that the humans had to leave on tables and turn pages of both-handed, looked small in his hands.

Jim climbed further up AAARRRGGHH’s back to read over his shoulder. AAARRRGGHH noticed, and repositioned the book so they could both see it better.

It was one that Blinky had written. Possibly one he’d written for AAARRRGGHH, considering the dimensions. It was about Blinky’s observations of human culture. The current chapter was about different gardens Blinky had seen around human homes, identifying some plants that were beneficial or harmful to trolls, and speculating on the purpose of the others.

They read in silence for a while.

“It’s just,” said Jim, when they reached the end of the chapter, “I can’t afford to mess this up.”

AAARRRGGHH moved the flattened strip of braided leather to its new place and closed the book.

“I can’t take Gunmar in a straight fight, which leaves assassination. So if there’s a specific weapon I need to kill him for real, and nothing else is gonna work, then I have to know how to use it. And I have to get it right the first time, because I probably won’t get a second shot.”

And because, if Jim failed and Gunmar realized a Changeling was behind the assassination attempt, then all the other Changelings still trapped in the Darklands were as good as dead.

“And … and if I can’t unlock the first Triumbric Stone, what does that say about my chances with the other two? And what if I messed up cleaving the Eye, so now I can’t unlock that stone, and Gunmar’s gonna live forever and it’s my fault?”

“He won’t,” said AAARRRGGHH. “Wizards live long, age slow, but can die.”

“… I don’t suppose you know any weaknesses of his?”

“Hm … Not good at trusting, so won’t have guards to sleep.”

“Huh. You know, I honestly never realized he slept? Like, logically he has to, but I’d never thought about it. I’ve only ever seen him on his throne or leading hunting parties. If the stones really do give me a new weapon, that would probably be my best shot at him.” Jim sighed and sagged. “If.”

“Maybe stones only work with all three,” AAARRRGGHH suggested.

“That could be it. I hope so.” Jim drummed his fingers against the Amulet. “I’m going to take the Eye out and train some more without it. Just in case it’s messing with my head. Would you hold onto it for me?”

“I help.” AAARRRGGHH shrugged. Jim nearly fell off his shoulder. “But Eye very small. Might leave with Blinky instead.”

“Where is Blinky, anyway?”

“Doing errands,” said AAARRRGGHH in trollish. “Haggling takes time.”

+=+

Tobias Domzalski, ‘Toby’, age 16, sophomore student at Arcadia Oaks Public High School. Orphaned age two, raised by paternal grandmother Nancy.

Closest friend, boy from across the street, Jim Lake; no close friends besides that, though occasional mentions of friendly acquaintanceship with classmate Eli Pepperjack.

Fond of geology, video games, stage magic. Natural predisposition to showmanship.

Family history of clinical depression. Personal history of emotional eating, being mocked by peers for braces and weight. Probable fear of rejection/abandonment.

Next appointment rescheduled to earlier date for unclarified reasons, severe enough for guardian to call in at 5:30 in the morning but not severe enough for guardian to feel immediate emergency response was needed.

“Good afternoon, Toby. Come on in.”

“Hi, Doctor A.”

He wandered over to the window first. There was a tree between the building and the parking lot. She wasn’t sure which, if either, he looked at. He sat in the squashy armchair.

Dr Tiffany Archenn had three chairs in her office besides her desk chair, with various degrees of softness. There was a well-stuffed armchair that the sitter noticeably sank into, a stiffer but still upholstered one, and a sturdy wooden armchair that patients with joint problems invariably chose because it was the easiest to get up from.

“Anything in particular you’d like to start with today?” she asked, in her cultivated gentle tone.

“Well, I’ve made some new friends.” He smiled, showing a glint of metal. “Some girls from school decided to start hanging out with me and Jimbo. One of them, Claire, had a crush on him at first, but they kept having lunch with us after he turned her down. They’re a lot of fun.”

Tiffany nodded. After centuries of practice, writing notes was like knitting for her; she no longer needed to look at what she was doing, though sometimes she did anyway if a patient was bothered by prolonged eye contact.

“What sorts of things have you been doing together?”

“Well, lunch, like I said, and Darci and I have been playing Mobile Go-Go Sushi. Sometimes we all go out and explore – uh, the trails around town, or the museum, or, like, little stores we’ve never been in before. And we’ve been … LARPing. That’s ‘live-action role play’.”

She knew that already, but she just nodded.

“It’s a fantasy game. Jim’s the most into it. He was actually doing it solo for a while before we found out, but now we’re all involved.”

‘Before we found out’. Not ‘before he told us’ or ‘invited us’. Now that was interesting.

How was Toby handling his closest friend having done something alone instead of sharing it with him, until Toby and the new additions to their social circle became involved all at once? How was he handling suddenly having to share his friend?

“Are you enjoying this game?” she asked leadingly.

“… Mostly. It can get pretty intense sometimes.”

“How do you mean?”

Toby twisted his hands in his lap. There were some fidgets on the windowsill and the side of the desk her patients sat on, but he didn’t use them often anymore.

“A couple weeks ago, we had a school play,” he said. “Claire and Mary were in it. Claire’s character died. Seeing that was like – like the stakes of, of the game, just got real. I had a nightmare that she died for real. It shook me up a lot. That’s when Nana called you.”

“I can see why that would be distressing.”

Emotional conflation was different from delusion, so this was probably not a sign that Toby was beginning to struggle with telling fiction from reality. Fearing for a friend’s wellbeing in a play or game and having that spill over into genuine concern for that friend’s safety was more likely related to Toby’s fear of abandonment.

She was surprised the fear was centred around one of the new friends rather than around his friend of longest standing, but it sounded like the death scene in the play had been the tipping point.

“Has this changed how you’ve been acting in your game?” Dr Archenn asked. “Or how you’ve interacted with your friends in general?”

“I’ve been more careful. Taken my training more seriously. I switched weapons – picked one I could actually use now instead of just the one I thought was coolest.”

“Has that helped?”

“A little.”

“Would you prefer a different game?”

“I couldn’t!” He shook his head. “Jimbo’s gonna do this with or without us – I can’t just leave him.”

Okay, now Tiffany was wondering if ‘LARPing’ was really a cover for some illegal activity these kids had stumbled into. Stupid Walter, leaving town right before she needed intel on some of his students.

“You don’t feel able to change overall aspects of this … game, only how you play?”

“… Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“And you’re confident that your friends wouldn’t” – or can’t – “drop it to play something else?”

“Jim’s committed.” Tobias’ eyes widened at his own words. “I mean, he’s like, really emotionally invested in this fantasy world, you know? He’d feel really bad about giving it up. I can’t ask him to do that.”

Okay, so clearly Tobias’ friend Jim was the key to all of this. Considering the boys had been each other’s only friend for ten years, it was unlikely Tobias would be easily convinced to let go to save himself. He’d said twice in five minutes that he could not abandon Jim to whatever they were really doing, nor extract Jim from it.

She might be reading too much into this, Tiffany reminded herself. Toby might be being entirely literal, especially since he’d already volunteered so much information with so little prompting.

“Tell me some more about this game you’ve been playing.”

“Uh … well … it kind of started as Jim trying to write a fantasy novel, I think. He’s, like, this destined hero, a magical knight chosen to defeat an evil troll king. The rest of us are, um, fellow questers who’ve joined up with him. He wants to protect us by fighting alone, but …” he trailed off.

But you don’t want to be left behind by being cut out of something your friend is investing time in? Tiffany did not suggest. It would distort the accuracy of her analysis if she put words in her patient’s mouth.

“But none of us want to give it up,” Toby settled on.

He didn’t say more. Maybe the tension between Jim and Toby was because Jim had wanted to write this story alone and resented his friends inserting themselves into the narrative? Tiffany set out another prompt.

“You mentioned you chose a new weapon recently. Do you all have weapons?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a warhammer. I had one to start with, I just, switched to a lighter one. Because, um, my character stats meant I couldn’t lift the first one yet. Jim and Mary both have swords, Claire’s got a spear, Darci has a crossbow.”

“No spellcasters in your party?”

Toby laughed nervously. “Sometimes there’s magic artifacts, but, no, no spellcasters.”

+=+

Claire got her bleach and developer out of the cupboard, adding them to the rest of her materials.

“Whatcha doin’?” Not Enrique asked her.

“Seriously? Do you have no concept of privacy? I’m in the bathroom right now!”

“You didn’t shut the door.” He tapped the join between the hardwood floor he was standing on and the bathroom tiles.

Okay, fair point, not that she’d being saying so to him.

“I’m touching up my roots.”

“I got no idea what that means.” He stood up on his back legs (or just ‘legs’? He went on all fours most of the time, like AAARRRGGHH, but most trolls Claire had seen were bipeds) and squinted past her. “You got a plant in there?”

“No, I mean my hair.” She crouched on the floor and tugged her blue streak. “It’s growing out, so I have to dye the parts that don’t have colour yet.”

Not Enrique just blinked at her. “You … kill your hair to change its colour? But, Ma and Pa take me with ’em to the hairdressers sometimes, and none of the stuff on the floor turns different colours.”

Claire grit her teeth at hearing him refer to her and Enrique’s parents like they were his too.

“It’s not that kind of dye. Dee-why-ee, not dee-eye-ee. It’s like a paint.” She sighed. “Look, I’ll show you.”

She pulled on her rubber gloves and separated her dyed streak from the rest of her hair with foil.

“I’m just bleaching it today. I have to do that a couple of days in a row, because it takes a while to get it light enough for the colour to show up.”

She mixed the bleach with the developer, which helped bleach to penetrate hair, and some red-gold corrector, which made it more effective on dark hair. Claire carefully painted the goop into her hair.

“In about half an hour, I’ll wash this off, and the hair it was in will be lighter brown instead of black.”

“Wild.”

“So, what, did you think some of my hair was just naturally blue?”

“Yeah? I’ve seen lots of humans around with more than one hair colour.”

“… Fair point,” she admitted. Between the people with hair streaks like her, and anyone starting to go grey, and people with fully-dyed hair whose roots were showing, not to mention how technicolour troll hair could be, he’d have no reason to suspect some human hair colours or patterns were unnatural.

Claire folded the foil around her hair and carefully clipped it so it wouldn’t slip off. She wiped out the bowl she’d mixed the bleach in using paper towels and wrapped them in a bag to throw in the trash, rather than dumping bleach down the drain. It wasn’t good for the local water table. Claire took off her gloves and tidied everything else away. She set her phone timer so she wouldn’t damage her hair by leaving the bleach in for too long.

“What was that you were saying earlier?” asked Not Enrique. “Bout the different kinds of die. Dee-why-dee-eye?”

“They’re spelled differently,” said Claire. “So if you see it written down, you can tell which kind somebody means. It’s called a homophone when a word’s like that,” she remembered from an elementary school grammar class on the different kinds of words.

Claire left the bathroom. “Come on.” She went to their – her – mother’s home office, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. She wrote ‘die’ and ‘dye’ on the paper and handed it to Not Enrique, who held the page upside down. “Other way up. See the difference?”

He flipped the page. “Which one’s for hair and which is for killing?”

“D-Y-E is for recolouring stuff. It’s not just hair, you can do with cloth too.”

He pointed at the correct word. “That one’s the Y? Like in the alphabet videos.”

“Yeah. You know what?” Claire decided. “I’m gonna teach you to read. I know, I know, you’re picking it up,” seeing his insulted look, “but you’ll learn faster with a teacher.”

“You just wanna use me to spell-check the trollish homework Blinkous gives you.”

“Like you’d be useful for that when I’m the one teaching you.”

+=+

Previous Chapter (Jim gets and cleaves the Eye of Gunmar)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Visiting the Quagawumps to ask for the Killstone)

I learned how to dye hair streaks for this chapter! I’ve been thinking about doing them in my hair for a long time but never bothered because my hair’s really dark brown and all the bleaching sounded like a nuisance. Now that I’ve looked into how it’s done, it still sounds like a nuisance, but I might try it.

Dr Archenn does not suspect Toby knows about real trolls yet, because ‘fighting an evil troll’ is pretty standard fantasy fodder. Even if he’d mentioned Jim being ‘the Trollhunter’, that sounds like a generic term, so she wouldn’t get truly suspicious without further evidence. If he’d mentioned Gunmar by name, on the other hand, that would have been enough for her to call in some favours and put this kid under surveillance.

So, how about Wizards, huh? Deya’s portrayal gave me a bunch of ideas for her portrayal in this fic! Since I am not going with the idea of her being the first Trollhunter, I’ve also developed a whole bunch of backstory that will be revealed later about the Trollhunter job’s origins in this timeline. I’ll be sticking with some plans I already had as to the timing and motives of Morgana inventing Changelings.

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Becoming The Mask chapters #Changeling Jim #Amulet of Daylight #AAARRRGGHH #rocks minerals crystals and gemstones #Tobias Domzalski #Changelings #original character #role-playing game #lies #Claire Nuñez #Not Enrique #Hair #colours #My Fanfiction #Monday is fanfic day!

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sunfloweradoring · 5 years ago

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the one with the terrible first date

Hi! So if you were wondering I was thinking of structuring the page like the stories with ‘the one with...’ being in chronological order. Obviously it’s totally fine to dip in & out whenever & to whichever story but I’ll refer back to events or things that happened in previous pieces. However, if you guys had specific requests whether they’re about one of the ‘the one with...’ stories or just in general I was thinking of doing some blurbs or mini one shots potentially connected to one of the stories if you just dropped me a message of what you were thinking. I hope this makes sense!

Anyway, enjoy this disastrous first date :) xx

masterlist

word count: 2.8k

Ever since the party 10 days ago Harry and I had been in contact almost nonstop. We’d only spent a matter of hours chatting that night, but I felt like I’d managed to gain some sort of understanding of him as a person in that time; whilst I was kind of right about that, in the days we’d been texting and sharing the occasional phone call, I was starting to realise what a genuinely kind-hearted guy he really was.

Each call or initiating message from him always started asking about me: how I was, how my day had been, what I was going to be doing the next day. Somehow he also managed to shift the focus off himself to me, making me feel like not only did he really care about the answers to these queries, but that I was the centre of his attention.

Therefore, when one Tuesday evening (after a particularly boring day trawling through a couple of scripts sent to me by my agent) Harry asked if I wanted to ‘go out sometime over the weekend’ I felt an eruption of butterflies in my tummy and a stupidly big grin take over my features.

‘yeah, that’d be cool :)’ I replied, trying to vastly underplay the amount of ‘cool’ it would be.

‘great :D’ He responded, ‘what are you doing saturday night? would you maybe wanna come round mine?’

‘that sounds like fun, do you want me to bring anything? we could have a movie night or something’ I texted back, already starting to feel slightly overcome with excitement as my hands felt a little sweaty as they tightly grasped my phone.

‘you let me worry about everything! send me your address and i’ll pick you up at 6:30, just bring yourself and your beautiful face ;)’

--------

“What are you gonna wear, then?” Saoirse questioned, leaning back against my headboard with her legs crossed out in front of her. I stood with my hands clamped to my hips, nearly half my wardrobe strewn out across the floor as I’d panicked earlier to find something to wear Saturday.

“Well, that’s the million pound question, isn’t it?” I huffed, pushing my hair out of my face as I inspected the various items of clothing cluttering up my bedroom carpet. “I don’t actually know what we’re doing so how am I supposed to know what to wear!”

Saoirse let out a little laugh as she swung her legs off the bed, pushing herself away from the mattress to stand beside me. “Okay, no need to get stressy. We’ve got the rest of the evening and all of tomorrow if we need it so just calm down.” She soothed, gently placing her hands on my arms as she guided me to take a seat on the bed. “What about this?” She questioned, leaning down and retrieving an emerald green knitted jumper from the pile and holding it up to her chest. “You could wear it with a skirt, or some trousers, jeans maybe. It would look really cute. Brings out your eyes.” Her words seemed to flow like a stream of conscious, her mind running away with her as she chucked it onto the bed beside me. I gathered it, holding it on my lap. It was my favourite jumper, but did it really shout first date?

“Those jeans are nice.” I spoke, leaning over the little rail at the end of my bed and pointing down to a blue pair of jeans. Saoirse glanced up at me, her eyebrows pulled together. “Um, no.” Was all she responded with.

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“Right, so you’re both going to the cinema and then having some food?” My aunt, Rose, confirmed, hands submerged in the sink as she washed up the dishes. I nodded tentatively. I’d lived with her long enough for her to see straight through me and now exactly when I was lying; thus I hoped if I kept my speech to a bare minimum I may be able to get away with it. “Alright, well I hope you and Saoirse have a nice time, say hello to her for me.” Rose smiled, glancing at me before returning to her task. I released a silent breath before leaving the kitchen, going to the front door.

At 6:28 I wanted to be at the front of the drive to avoid anyone from the house seeing Harry picking me up. As far as they knew, Saoirse and I were having a friend date and that’s all they needed to know.

“Bye!” I shouted behind me as I pulled the door closed, zipped up my blue puffer jacket and ran down the two porch steps and stood at the end of the drive. With my hands stuffed in my pockets to protect me from the late winter chill, I tried to shield my face as best I could in the top of my jacket.

I’d barely been standing there five minutes before a car slowed in front of me, the passenger window lowering and a head popping out over the passenger seat. I bent my knees a little to allow me to see inside the car.

“Hiya! Sorry I’m a little late. I think it’s the universe’s law that if you’re going somewhere for a certain time, every single red light has to hit you first.” Harry chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the handle of the driver’s door.

“It’s fine! Don’t worry.” I giggled, reaching for the handle of the passenger door. “Only like two-”

“Wait!” Harry squawked, shooting out of the car at the speed of light and running round in time to gently bat my hand away from the handle. “That’s my job.” He grinned, pulling open the door and gesturing with his hand for me to get in. I blushed a deep crimson. Fingers crossed he couldn’t see as I nipped into the car.

“Thank you.” I spoke shyly as he himself got back into the driver’s seat. He shot me a smirk as he started the car again.

“What kinda gentleman would I be if I let m’lady open a door for herself?” Harry joked, adopting a both accent as he drove away from the front of my house. The butterflies that had been dancing away inside my tummy since Tuesday suddenly became a frenzied explosion at his words; how on earth was I supposed to come with him saying things like this the rest of the night?

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Harry’s little apartment was warm an cozy - a needed escape from the frosty outside. It was small and quaint, but what more could you expect of a 17 year old, really?

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Harry spoke, flicking on the light to illuminate a modestly decorated studio flat. He closed the door, removing his coat as he gestured to take mine too.

“Thank you.” I repeated in the same tone as before, shimmying out of my jacket.

“So I made us dinner, and we can watch something afterwards if you still wanted to. But let me just put the food back in the oven to warm it up, yeah?” He smiled, his hand ghosting over the the bottom of my back as a way to guide me through the flat.

“It already smells really nice in here.” I complimented, breathing in the aromas of the food he’d obviously prepared earlier.

“Ye haven’t tried it yet.” Harry jested with a little laugh. “But thanks, it’s one of my mum’s recipes I think. She told me it would be a good thing to make for a first date.” He explained, placing two covered dishes into the oven and turning it on.

“Can I ask what it is, or is it a surprise?” I questioned, attempting to glance under the foil before the oven was promptly closed.

“Oi, no it’s a surprise!” He interjected, quickly moving his body in front of the oven. There was only a matter of inches between our faces, causing (for the second but most certainly not the last time) a blush to sweep my cheeks. “Right let’s see what film we can start while we wait for that to heat up.” His voice was far softer than usual, his eyes momentarily darting between mine and my lips.

--------

I sat on his little sofa, flicking through the little booklet of DVDs he had stored.

“When In Rome?” I questioned with a little laugh. “What’s a guy like you doing with a film like that?” I teased, looking up at him as he stood in front of the telly, hands holding the remote.

“Heyyy,” Harry laughed, voice a little whiney. “I can be in touch with my feminine side, you know. I actually quite enjoy the odd RomCom.” He said, taking a seat next to me, his knee grazing the side of my jean covered leg.

“Sorry.” I giggled, continuing to flick through the pages. “Just never put you down for someone like that.” I shrugged.

“Oh? Then what kinda person did you put me down for then?” He smirked, leaning back into the sofa, his head propped in his hand as he elbow rested on the back of the cushion.

“I don’t really know, maybe like every other teenage boy: too cool for this, and too busy with girls for that.” My words were intended as a joke, but there was a little part of me that perhaps thought there was some truth in it.

“No, no, no, definitely not.” Harry shook his head and sending his curls in every which direction, sitting up straighter. “My mother taught me to respect women, taught me to be kind to others and that you’re never too good for anything.” He said. A smile formed on my lips. He really was a true gentleman, wasn’t he?

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“And then it just kinda went from there.” Harry summarised, sipping from the glass bottle of coke. “Just went on there as myself but I think it’s pretty cool I’ve come out in a band. Who knows, could be the next Beatles.” He laughed. “Nah, we may get somewhere but nothing like them. They’re legends.”

Before I could reply, my nose scrunched in displeasure at the new waft of smells assaulting my nostrils. “What’s tha-” The shrill beeping noise of the fire alarm cut me off.

“Shit!” Harry shouted, leaping up from the sofa and dashing towards the oven. As he wrenched open the oven door, a pillow of smoke tumbled out, causing him to cover his mouth and nose with his elbow as he attempted to turn off any heat source making the situation worse. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He chanted to himself, grabbing the oven gloves and pulling the two dishes out of the oven, placing them on the side and pulling of the foil covering. “Well that looks delicious.” He sarcastically observed, standing to the side as I walked up next to him. The food was entirely black, charred beyond belief.

“Oh my god, Harry.” I pursed my lips together to prevent the laugh that was attempting to escape. “I’m sorry. I thought it was gonna be really nice.” I cleared my throat, wafting the air around with my hand.

“You can laugh.” Harry spoke with a grin, bumping his hip into mine playfully. This seemed to unleash the giggles that had been hiding in my throat. “I just wanted to impress you.” He quietly whined. I slowly calmed down, holding out my arms in a offered hug. He pushed the oven gloves off his hands, walking towards me and wrapping his arms around my wait as mine encircled the back of his neck.

“You don’t need to try and impress me, Harry.” I spoke quietly, my lips near his ear. “I wanted to come on this date because I like you, not because I think you’re the next Jamie Oliver.”

“Well I clearly showed that’s not in the near future, didn’t I!” He chuckled, his chest rumbling a little against mine.

“Let’s just order a pizza or something, yeah?” I offered, pulling away enough to see his face before he eagerly nodded.

“You go sit down, I’ll get you another coke and I’ll order the pizza.” He smiled, quickly stealing a kiss from my cheek before he released me. “Anything in particular you want?”

“Honestly anything, just not mushrooms.” I replied, turning around and taking my place on the sofa once more.

“No mushrooms? Are you like 5?” He joked, shooting me a wink as he picked up the phone to order the replacement food. I just giggled, shaking my head at him.

He quickly ordered the pizza, going to the fridge and retrieving another bottle of coke. “Here ye go. Thanks for not freaking out about the food.” He smiled, getting a bottle opener to remove the top before walking in the direction of the sofa. What he hadn’t foreseen was that, in his panic to get to the oven only moments before, he’d managed to move the edge of the carpet into a folded position.

“Har-” I began but before anything else could leave my lips his sock covered toes connected with the dislodged carpet. His eyes widened in shock as he tripped forward towards the sofa, his hands going out to protect his fall, the bottle of coke flying forwards and spilling all over me. I shot up from the sofa, gasping at the sudden event.

“Oh my god! Oh my- Fuck, Y/N I’m so so so so sorry!” He panicked, jumping to his feet and approaching me with his hands held out to do something, yet he didn’t know what to do.

“Um... it’s okay... uh do you have a towel or something before it goes everywhere?” I asked, looking down at my soaking jeans and the darkened material of the bottom half of my green jumper.

“Uh, of course, yeah, let me just grab one.” Harry quickly ran off into the bathroom, coming back a second later with a towel. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. God this is terrible.” He muttered the second part of his sentence, handing me the towel as he stared at me. I wrapped it around myself, trying to soak up any of the liquid it could. “Here, let me get you something to change into. Can’t be sat there in those now.”

“Harry, it’s fine, honest-”

“No! I’ve been a twat, one sec.” Again he dashed off, coming back a moment later with a hoodie and a pair of joggers.

“Thanks, Harry.” I gave me a reassuring smile as I took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change. As I closed the door I could see him sat on the dry part of the sofa, head in hands. Poor boy. I looked at myself in the mirror, silently laughing to myself. This was certainly not how I was expecting tonight to go!

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“God I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Harry spoke, both our bellies now full with pizza as he walked with me to the door, grabbing both our jackets. I giggled at him as I put my jacket back on.

“Seriously, Harry, don’t worry about it. I’m literally the clumsiest person ever. It could have happened to anyone.” I replied.

“Really, the clumsiest?”

“Okay,” I laughed. “The second clumsiest.” I jested, gently poking him with my elbow. “But you could do something to make it up.” I shyly added, avoiding eye contact. I could see his head snap in my direction.

“Anything! Yes, what is it?” He asked, stepping a little closer, but still remaining respectful with at least a few feet between us.

“You could give me a goodnight kiss.” I looked at his face, watching as his features seemed to light up.

“You still want to kiss me after I burned the food and tried to drown you in coke?” He asked, tone somewhat hopeful as he closed a little more of the space between us. I simply nodded my head, a little smile curving my lips.

Harry’s grin remained prominent, his hands gentle as that came onto my waist, removing all the distance that was left between us. The intensity of his stare I had felt at the party was back, but I didn’t really have time to process it before we were both slowly leaning in to one another.

His lips slowly pressed against my lips. The warmth of his skin against mine and the way neither of our mouths were entirely closed due to the fact we couldn’t stop grinning sent shivers shooting across my skin. His right hand left my waist, moving to cup my left cheek. My arms went around his middle, a sigh of pleasure leaving my lips as he pulled away, just enough to put a small amount of space between us so he could look me in the eye.

I think I could get used to that.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #one direction #one direction imagines #fanfic

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